"I wonder if it can hold me after such a supper? It is a little lower in the water, but I guess it can stand it."

Whither the stream was tending was a question for the wanderer to consider; but as he was without any possible means of determining, he did not devote much time to the consideration thereof. His purpose was to get ahead without leaving a trail behind, and that was what he was doing.

CHAPTER XV.

IN THE SOLITUDE.

Ned designed to drift down stream for a mile or so, by which time he expected to be at such a distance that there was no further possible danger of pursuit. It would then be necessary for him to get forward as fast as he could, taking care to avoid the redskins who were in front, rather than those in the rear.

He was a little alarmed to find, after going scarcely half that distance, that the stream was broadening very rapidly. The current as a consequence, became slower, and when he descried seemingly a large forest looming up before him, he concluded that the time had about come for him to disembark, and use his heels. But, prompted somewhat by curiosity, he remained a while longer, until, before he was aware, he discovered that the stream had debouched into a lake, nearly circular in shape, and fully a couple of hundred yards in diameter. The impetus of the current kept the tree moving slowly and still more slowly, until it had reached a point near the middle, when it gradually settled down to a complete standstill.

"That's odd!" exclaimed the lad, looking about him, and seeing the broad sweep of water on every hand. "If I knew this I think I should have got off."

It only remained for him to work his way to land, and this he began doing by using his hands as paddles. It was slow progress; and he was of the opinion that he had made a rather foolish blunder in permitting himself to be "carried out to sea" in this fashion. He was disturbed still further by the appearance of the sky. Dark, threatening clouds were gathering and sweeping across it, frequently shutting out the light of the moon and causing the most grotesque shadows to whisk over the surface of the lake.

The indications were that a violent storm was close at hand, and he used both hands with all the vigor at his command, and saw himself gradually nearing land--the rate being so moderate that it could not keep pace with his impatience. He was tempted more than once to leap into the water and swim or wade ash.o.r.e, but he restrained himself. On one of these occasions, just as a heavy cloud approached the moon, and while his raft was a dozen yards or so from sh.o.r.e, he was alarmed at sight of something approaching him through the water. What it was he could not conjecture, as it was low down, and very indistinct on account of the gathering gloom.

As the cloud touched the moon and obscured the light, this suspicious object disappeared, and he awaited with no little alarm the outcome of the mystery. He was sitting motionless, looking and listening, when the end of the tree was suddenly elevated a full foot, while the other correspondingly descended.

With a gasp of terror, Ned clutched the limb near him and held on, not knowing whither he was about to be flung. A muttering growl at the same instant explained what it all meant, and he hastily retreated still further upon the tree, expecting every moment to feel the claws of the wild animal fastened upon him.

"It seems to me that these beasts are after me more than the Indians,"

was his thought, as he drew out his revolver, and awaited the necessity of using it.

Further than placing his paws upon one end of the trunk, and giving out a threatening growl, the animal did nothing for a few minutes, while the boy, fully sensible of the value of his ammunition, was equally lacking in offensive proceedings. Thus matters stood, while the great heavy cloud floated slowly by the moon, and the head of the unwelcome stranger gradually came to view.

It was some wild beast, beyond question, but it wasn't a bear. Its eyes, shining with a phosph.o.r.escent glow, and the cavernous growling that issued from the red jaws, made it seem the most frightful kind of a monster. Hoping that it was not particularly hungry, Ned tried the scare game again, flinging up his arms and shouting, and making noises horrible enough to frighten any one to whom they remained unexplained.

In this case it succeeded admirably. The creature, whatever it was, must have concluded that it was something besides a boy with which it had taken pa.s.sage, and, after indulging in one prolonged stare, dropped back into the water and paddled straight for sh.o.r.e.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NED TRIED THE SCARE GAME AGAIN, FLINGING UP HIS ARMS AND SHOUTING]

"I don't think Lone Wolf can follow me all along this route," concluded the boy, as he resumed his paddling toward sh.o.r.e, and reached it in the course of the next ten minutes. He had been cramped up in one position so long that he felt the need of exercise, and started off at a rapid pace, with no more idea of the precise direction he was following than if he were blind.

The clouds sweeping across the sky grew heavier and darker, and the wind, strong and chilling, soughed through the trees of the forest with a dismal, wailing sound that would have frightened one of more years than young Chadmund. Even he would have shrunk from the task of going through the wood had the circ.u.mstances been different, but he was so actuated by the one all-controlling desire of escape that he forgot the real danger which encompa.s.sed him. Besides the risk of encountering the Apaches, there was the ever-present peril from wild beasts and venomous serpents. None of the latter as yet had disturbed him, but he was likely to step upon some coiling reptile, unseen in the dark, whose sting was certain death.

It soon became apparent that a storm of a most violent character was about to burst forth. The wind grew stronger and colder, lightning flashed athwart the darkening sky, and the thunder boomed with an increasing power peculiar to warm countries. The wanderer had been fortunate thus far in preserving himself from a ducking, and he was still desirous of doing so. There was nothing to be gained by pressing forward, and he began groping around for some kind of a shelter. This was difficult to find, as the gloom was so dense that eyesight was useless, and he could only use his hands.

"I guess I'll have to climb a tree," he thought, running his hand along the bark of one.

But at this juncture he ran against a rock, striking with such violence that he saw stars. As soon as he recovered he began an examination, and was not a little pleased to find that under one portion of it there was a hollow big enough for him to crawl in and protect himself from the tempest. He had scarcely done so when the storm burst forth.

First a few large drops pattered upon the leaves, and then it seemed as if the windows of Heaven had been opened. The rain descended in torrents, the firmament flamed with a blinding intensity--and the earth trembled with the reverberating thunder. The vivid sheets of electric fire made the darkness and gloom deeper by contrast. The trees, with their swaying branches, and the spear-like columns of rain, stood out and vanished again so rapidly that the vision of the appalled lad was dazzled and bewildered. The terrific shocks coming simultaneously with the lightning, proved that the thunderbolts were falling all around him, and again and again he thanked that Providence which had dissuaded him from taking refuge in some of the trees.

_Crash!_

Directly in front of him, an immense giant of the forest was smitten from top to base, the limbs, leaves, and splinters hurled in every direction, as if a thousand pounds of powder had been exploded within.

The air was so surcharged with electricity that Ned felt the effect. A p.r.i.c.kling sensation down one entire side of his body was followed by a partial numbness and paralysis that alarmed him. With his other hand he hastily rubbed his limbs, and turned and twisted, fearing that he was becoming helpless.

In a few minutes he regained the strength which had temporarily departed, and then noticed that the storm was subsiding as rapidly as it had arisen. The thunder died out in sullen mutterings; the lightning flashed fitfully, often without any perceptible report following, and the deluge diminished to a few drops.

"The storm is over, thank heaven!" he exclaimed. "As I have such a good bed, I may as well stay here till morning."

But at this instant his blood almost froze at the sudden discovery of a new and deadly peril.

CHAPTER XVI.

AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.

Young Chadmund heard the unmistakable warning of a rattlesnake that was somewhere near him, and on the very point of striking. Precisely where it was, it was impossible to determine with any certainty; but there was no time to consider the matter. It seemed to him in that brief second he devoted to thought that the venomous reptile lay a little to the left, and he scrambled out of his place with all the celerity at his command.

The wonderful quickness of this usually sluggish snake, when about to deal its deadly blow is well known, and, had the boy moved with twice the rapidity that he did, Ned could not have escaped that lightning-like dart of the snake, which was aimed straight at his foot, that being the part of the body which was nearest his coil. The fangs struck the side of his shoe, which happened to move at the very instant the blow was made, and, piercing the leather, held the reptile fast,--"Hoist by his own petard," as it were,--so that, when Ned scrambled out from his shelter, he felt the horrid thing dangling at his heels.

With presence of mind hardly to be expected at such a time, he arose to his feet, and holding the attached foot motionless, with the other he hastily stamped all the life from the writhing rattlesnake. This done he freed the shoe by a jerk, although it tore the fangs of the reptile from its jaws.

"I think I'd better dust out of here," said the lad, breathlessly. "I remember that Corporal Hugg told me that where you found one of those things you are pretty sure of running against another close by, and I don't care about seeing any, especially when it's so dark you can't see at all."

He stepped carefully forth in the darkness, and, moving a few feet, paused to listen. The rain had ceased falling entirely, and only the faintest mutter of the distant thunder reached his ears. The darkness was absolutely impenetrable, and the wind, as it soughed through the wet branches, made the most dreary and dismal wailing--enough to strike despair to the bravest heart.

The boy had listened but a moment when a slight rustling among the leaves at his feet filled him with a sudden conviction that a second rattlesnake was after him. He left the spot expeditiously, not halting until he was sure that he was beyond reach of the unwelcome visitant, which, it is well known, is not much given to pursuing its prey.

"Hang it!" he exclaimed, "there ain't much fun in this. I wish daylight would come, so that I could see what to do."

His situation was exceedingly uncomfortable. Everything was soaked with water, and he could not walk without shaking down the moisture from the laden branches and undergrowth. He knew of but one place wherein he could secure protection and that was beneath the rock where he had so narrowly escaped the rattlesnake, but he was not very anxious to make his way back there.

While he stood debating what to do, he noticed that the sky was rapidly clearing, the black, tumultuous clouds rolling away from the face of the moon, which soon shone out with all its wonted power. This was a vast help, for, despite the dense shadows made by the heavy branches overhead, he was able to see enough to pick his way and noticed that the forest directly in front was quite open, indicating that he was close to the termination. Thus encouraged, he pressed ahead and soon had the satisfaction of finding that he was through the woods and on the border of an open, rocky ravine, through which he could hear a stream rushing with great violence, and which he took to be the outlet of the little lake that had been overcharged by the recent severe storm. So far as he could see by the moonlight, great ma.s.ses of rock, boulders and broken prairie stretched out before him, and he asked himself how he was to make his way.

He concluded not to make the attempt just then, but, hunting out a place among the rocks, he crawled into it, first making sure, by a careful reconnaissance that no rattlesnakes had crept in ahead of him. He was permitted to remain undisturbed through the night, and when he opened his eyes the sun was shining directly in upon him. The boy then hastily sprang up, his heart full of grat.i.tude to G.o.d for the wondrous manner in which his life had been preserved, and the remarkable success which had followed his attempt at escape from the Apaches.

With the coming of the glorious sunlight, Ned naturally felt buoyant and hopeful. He was not without considerable appet.i.te, but he had eaten so heartily, on the previous evening, that he felt that he could afford to wait until night again; and he still had that impatient, almost unreasoning desire to get forward, which made him feel like breaking into a run, and keeping it up until he was out of breath.

But, young as was the little fellow, he was old enough to feel that the time had come when he must use all the brains in his command. Up to that hour, as will be understood, he had been journeying entirely at random, his sole purpose being to get beyond reach of Lone Wolf and his band. He had accomplished this, and a radical change of tactics must be made.

If Ned Chadmund had been a half dozen years older, he would have recoiled at the prospect before him; but he was so young and full of animal spirits that he did not really comprehend the difficulty and danger. He had traveled very little more than half the distance between Santa Fe and Fort Havens, and his purpose was to press ahead until the latter was reached. To do this, it was necessary that he should make his way through the mountains in which he now found himself, and then to journey a couple of hundred miles through or over prairie, and across streams, before he could reach the frontier post, where his father was so anxiously awaiting his coming. The project seemed nothing short of madness; but its justification lay in the fact that the wanderer had the choice of attempting that or lying down and dying where he was. He could do nothing but choose the former.

Ned climbed up to an elevated position and took an observation--his purpose, after learning whether any present danger threatened, being to learn the direction it was necessary to follow in order to reach Fort Havens.

"Corporal Hugg told me that after we reached Devil's Pa.s.s, it was in a straight line West. The trail winds in and out, as it has to do, but all one had to do was to dig ahead, and he would be sure to come out right in the end--that is, if the Indians and wild animals would only let him.

Well, right yonder rose the sun," he continued, very carefully continuing his observation. "That must be the east, and all I have to do is to keep that at my back until it gets over my head and wears round to the front. So off we go."

There was one favorable accompaniment of this first thoughtful effort to reach home. The valley-like depression that had caught his eye upon rising ran precisely in the direction to be desired--due east and west--so that he had the best facility in the world for getting through the mountains. Still another favorable augury was that the general direction pursued by the Apaches was the same, and the fact was, there was very little still intervening between him and the open prairie beyond. Should his progress remain uninterrupted through the day, by nightfall he would be close to the prairie, which stretched away so many miles in the direction of the frontier post.