Clearly then, to the ears of both, came the unmistakable sound of someone or something approaching. There was the crunching of gravel, and the noise of some hard substance moving on a rock.

"It's the Yaquis!" whispered Nort, as he brought his rifle to bear on the blackness in front of him. "They're creeping up to make an attack!"

d.i.c.k also got his gun in readiness for instant action, and the boys were just about to fire when a noise, best described as "unearthly,"

smote their ears. It was a long drawn out cry, weird and blood-curdling. That it was the warwhoop of the Yaquis both boys were beginning to believe, in spite of knowing that these Mexicans seldom if ever used such romantic if terrible means of terrifying their enemies.

I say the boys were on the verge of accepting the noise as that, when its character suddenly changed, and the stillness of the night was fairly shattered by a loud:

"Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Hee-haw!"

The reaction was so great that Nort and d.i.c.k nearly dropped their guns, and they turned to look one at the other with sheepish grins that would have been visible had the light been stronger. And then, with one voice the brothers exclaimed:

"Maud!"

It was one of the army transport mules, an animal that helped carry the camp baggage! She had strayed.

Again rose the cry, not so weird now that its nature was known.

"Hee-haw! Hee-haw!"

And from the camp came a disgusted complaint from some sleepy trooper as he shouted: "The chump who tied that mule so he could wander ought to be made to go get him!"

There was laughter at this, for many had been awakened by the braying of the animal. And then one of the men in charge of the animals came out and managed to corral the wanderer.

"Gosh! I'm glad we didn't shoot!" exclaimed Nort, as their tour of duty ended and their relief came.

"Same here!" added his brother. "How they would have laughed at us if we had plugged old Maud!"

This was the only disturbing incident of the night, the remainder of which pa.s.sed quietly.

With the first streak of dawn the troopers were up, as were the cowboys, for Rolling Stone had said, and Buck Tooth agreed with him, that if the Yaquis did attack it would be at dawn, since they seldom fought after nightfall.

But no attack came, and breakfast was served, with sentries on the watch to guard against surprise. Some steaming hot coffee, crisp bacon the odor of which was an aroma in the morning air, flapjacks and sour dough bread for those who wanted it, made the meal, which well fortified those who partook of it for the day's events, which were destined to be strenuous.

Once again the order was:

"Forward--march!"

Again they were on the trail of the Yaquis.

As they advanced the "sign" became more p.r.o.nounced that the band had pa.s.sed that way. Whether they had the captives with them could, of course, only be guessed at.

But the trail had been carefully scanned, and there was no evidence that Rosemary and Floyd had been put out of the way. As far as could be told the captives were still the prisoners of the Indians. And there were no marks to show that any smaller body had branched off from this band of Yaquis that had the unfortunate youth and maiden in charge.

So it was with the hope of finding their cousins safe, though perhaps in dire distress, that the boy ranchers pressed on with their friends the troopers and the cowboys.

As the trail became more p.r.o.nounced, greater precautions were taken against a surprise. And a surprise in the rocky defiles through which they were pa.s.sing would have been well nigh fatal. So scouts were constantly in the lead, ready at the first suspicious sign to send back word to the main body to be on the alert.

The morning pa.s.sed without incident, save for one or two false alarms, and there was a sigh of relief when the midday meal was served without interruption in the shape of hostile bullets. Then, after a brief rest for the horses, the march was again taken up.

"I wonder when we'll find them?" asked Nort.

"It's been quite a while now," added d.i.c.k.

"Poor Rosemary," sighed Bud, trying to find an easy position for his wounded hand. "She must have had a tough time."

"Yet she had a lot of grit to send that message the way she did,"

commented Nort.

"Yes, only for that we wouldn't have known about it for a long time--maybe too late," agreed Bud.

It was but a few minutes after this talk that, suddenly, a shot rang out well up ahead. Instantly every nerve tingled for it might mean the beginning of the last fight. The shot was almost at once followed by others, and then a scout came clattering back.

"We've found 'em!" he cried. "And it's going to be a d.i.c.kens of a fight! They're in a regular fort!"

The firing in front became more brisk. Clearly all the van guard was now engaged, and quick orders were issued to send up a squad or two of the troopers, while the main body prepared for what they hoped would be the last battle.

Captain Marshall rapidly questioned the messenger who had come back.

The man told how he and his companions had been riding along when they were suddenly fired upon. The shot came from a ledge at one side of the defile through which the trail ran, and they had a glimpse of a Yaqui warrior shaking his fist at them in defiance as he disappeared amid the rocks after delivering his warning shot.

Then the shooting between the outposts of the Indians and the advance guard of the rescue party became general as the scout rode back to report.

Captain Marshall hurried to the front with his first band of fighters, the cowboys and our youthful heroes being bidden to remain where they were until the officer had made an observation. In a little while Captain Marshall came back.

"It will be their last stand!" he exclaimed.

"How so?" asked Snake.

"Well, they're there with their backs to the wall. They can't get out at the rear and we're here in front to stop them if they come this way.

It will be a fight to a finish!"

And as the boy ranchers wondered at the fate of Rosemary and Floyd there came from the front a burst of firing.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE RUSE OF ROSEMARY

Well it was that a body of fighters with the experience of the United States troopers and the cowboys from Diamond X ranch went up against the Yaquis, and not some brave but rash band of rescuers. The latter would have been defeated almost at once for the Indians had picked out an admirable place in which to make their last stand.

They had retreated into the mountains, along a trail that only the most hardy could follow. Then, finding, as they doubtless did, that their pursuers were ever at their heels, they hastened to what was, virtually, a natural fortress--a nook among the rocky walls of the defile. From there they shot at the approaching troopers and cowboys.

"No useless risks!" ordered Captain Marshall, as he and his men came up to the attack.

The Yaquis had several distinct advantages in their favor. They were up above the rescuers and could fire down on them, while the boy ranchers and their friends had not only to fight but to climb up, and the latter was a handicap.

Then the Indians had what was almost like a rocky fort to protect them, while those making the attack had to approach pretty much in the open.