第104章

The sun was fully up when Raven ordered a halt, and in a sunny valley, deep with grass, unsaddling the wearied animals, he turned them loose to feed and rest. Apparently careless of danger and highly contented with their night's achievement, he and his Indian partner abandoned themselves to sleep. Cameron, too, though his indignation and chagrin prevented sleep for a time, was finally forced to yield to the genial influences of the warm sun and the languid airs of the spring day, and, firmly resolving to keep awake, he fell into dreamless slumber.

The sun was riding high noon when he was awakened by a hand upon his arm. It was Raven.

"Hush!" he said. "Not a word. Mount and quick!"

Looking about Cameron observed that the pack horses were ready loaded and Raven standing by his broncho ready to mount. Little Thunder was nowhere to be seen.

"What's up?" said Cameron.

For answer Raven pointed up the long sloping trail down which they had come. There three horsemen could be seen riding hard, but still distant more than half a mile.

"Saw them three miles away, luckily enough," said Raven.

"Where's Little Thunder?" enquired Cameron.

"Oh, rounding up the bunch," answered Raven carelessly, waving his hand toward the valley. "Those men are coming some," he added, swinging into his saddle.

As he spoke a rifle shot shattered the stillness of the valley.

The first of the riders threw up his hands, clutched wildly at the vacant air and pitched headlong out of the saddle. "Good God!

What's that?" gasped Cameron. The other two wheeled in their course. Before they could turn a second shot rang out and another of the riders fell upon his horse's neck, clung there for a moment, then gently slid to the ground. The third, throwing himself over the side of his pony, rode back for dear life.

A third and a fourth shot were heard, but the fleeing rider escaped unhurt.

"What does that mean?" again asked Cameron, weak and sick with horror.

"Mount!" yelled Raven with a terrible oath and flourishing a revolver in his hand. "Mount quick!" His face was pale, his eyes burned with a fierce glare, while his voice rang with the blast of a bugle.

"Lead those pack horses down that trail!" he yelled, thrusting the line into Cameron's hand. "Quick, I tell you!"

"Crack-crack!" Twice a bullet sang savagely past Cameron's ears.

"Quicker!" shouted Raven, circling round the bunch of ponies with wild cries and oaths like a man gone mad. Again and again the revolver spat wickedly and here and there a pony plunged recklessly forward, nicked in the ear by one of those venomous singing pellets. Helpless to defend himself and expecting every moment to feel the sting of a bullet somewhere in his body, Cameron hurried his pony with all his might down the trail, dragging the pack animals after him. In huddled confusion the terrified brutes followed after him in a mad rush, for hard upon their rear, like a beast devil-possessed, Nighthawk pressed, biting, kicking, squealing, to the accompaniment of his rider's oaths and yells and pistol shots. Down the long sloping trail to the very end of the valley the mad rush continued. There the ascent checked the fury of the speed and forced a quieter pace. But through the afternoon there was no weakening of the pressure from the rear till the evening shadows and the frequent falling of the worn-out beasts forced a slackening of the pace and finally a halt.

Sick with horror and loathing, Cameron dismounted and unsaddled his broncho. He had hardly finished this operation when Little Thunder rode up upon a strange pony, leading a beautiful white broncho behind. Cameron could not repress an exclamation of disgust as the Indian drew near him.

"Beautiful beast that," said Raven carelessly, pointing to the white pony.

Cameron turned his eyes upon the pony and stood transfixed with horror.

"My God!" he exclaimed. "Look at that!" Across the beautiful white shoulders and reaching down clear to the fetlock there ran a broad stain, dull red and horrible. Then through his teeth, hard clenched together, these words came forth: "Some day, by God's help, I shall wipe out that stain."

The trader shrugged his shoulders carelessly, but made no reply.