The Boy Scouts of the Air in Indian Land Part 20

"We're here," came the answer.

"That's Phipps." The captain breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's not badly hurt," Carlito was saying as they drew up to where the Indian and Tender Gray were bending over Herb, bandaging his arm while the father held the boy's hand.

"I'll be all right," faintly a.s.sured Herb. "Don't you--" but his voice trailed off into silence, and the upraised arm grew limp.

"Here, I brought some ammonia," exclaimed Fred, springing forward, and placing a small bottle to Herb's nostrils, while Gray and Carl rubbed his arms and legs vigorously.

"I wish we had a stretcher," exclaimed Mr. Phipps, his voice shaking with anxiety.

"Dunk and Fly are coming along with one," responded the captain.

"Thank heaven for that," exclaimed the rancher gratefully. "Carl s.n.a.t.c.hed some branches off of the trees coming along," he continued "and made some splints on the run." He laid his hand affectionately on the Indian's bent shoulders.

A few moments later Dunk and Fly came up, bearing a stretcher between them. Riding had been rather difficult with this clumsy load.

It was not long before Herb was comfortably stretched out on the improvised bed, and, resuscitated by the liberal whiffs of ammonia which Fred faithfully applied, and the constant ma.s.sage, he soon opened his eyes and smiled, as a sign that he had regained consciousness.

"It's mostly jolt," said Dunk, who began applying more bandages. When the arm was well bound up, he went over Herb's body carefully in search of more injuries.

Finding none, Mr. Phipps suggested that they start for the ranch.

Carl, Dunk, Fly and Fred immediately picked up the stretcher.

"Feeling better, son?" asked the father gently as they started off, the four boys carrying the stretcher, while those on horseback led the ponies.

"Better all the time," answered Herb, trying to speak firmly. While his voice was not normal, it was stronger than when he first spoke.

"What happened anyway?" asked Fly of Tender Gray.

"All I can say is, it's just about like that time you got mixed up when you met Windy at Silver City," answered Tender. "I didn't know anything was wrong until I heard Herb yell, and the next minute he was thrown from his horse, while the critter ran off like wild."

"Didn't you see anything?" urged Fred.

"It was too dark--anyhow I didn't look for anything. I got busy with Herb," responded Gray.

"That's right," approved Mr. Phipps. "But it looks to me as if it was the same devil that's been botherin' my sheep--horse's back is cut pretty deep."

When they reached the ranch-house, Sing informed them that Dr. Rivers had telephoned, and was on his way over. They had scarcely put Herb on the bed before the doctor arrived. After listening to a hasty explanation, he made a thorough examination of the wounded boy.

"Well, it's just a minor fracture of the forearm," he announced finally.

"Nothing serious. I'll have to set it though.

"It may hurt you a little," he warned Herb, as he removed the bandages and splints, but, though his patient did wince once or twice, he set his lips tightly, and did not emit a sound of complaint.

After it was all over, however, he sank back with a sigh of relief and exhaustion. With the aid of a sleeping potion, he was soon quietly resting.

Mr. Phipps, though relieved by the doctor's rea.s.surance, was greatly agitated over the accident, and continually paced the floor in the big library, his face pale and his lips set.

"I'll be over early to-morrow," the doctor told him. "It's only a green stick break and will soon knit. The bandaging was splendidly done--I couldn't have put those splints on better myself," he added. "By the way, did you do it?"

"The boys did," answered the rancher, with a faint smile, looking affectionately around the anxious group.

"You certainly did well," said the doctor heartily. "I had some doubts about instructing you at first, but I must admit you have profited by your lessons wonderfully."

As there was nothing more to be done, the party from the fort prepared to start back, the doctor going ahead with his machine.

"We've got to get that confounded animal that's causing all this trouble," exclaimed Phipps as vigorously as his shaking voice would permit.

"We're goin' to get him, all right!" responded Jerry heartily.

"You bet we are," reiterated Fred, with determination, while the other boys made similar a.s.surances.

It was a sober party that rode slowly away, and for a long time nothing was said.

"It's so quiet to-night it makes me think of spooks," remarked Jerry, finally breaking the silence.

"Something makes me feel queer too," said Fred.

Just then a shrill, weird inhuman shriek came from somewhere in the direction of the mountains: "Kreee-kreee-ee," almost blood-curdling in its penetrating sharpness, cutting through the air like a keen knife blade, and sending unpleasant s.h.i.+vers down the backs of all who heard.

Again and again it came, threatening, foreboding, like some evil spirit about to swoop upon its prey.

They listened, spellbound, thrilled in every nerve. It was not fear that seemed to clutch at their hearts and make them pound, or that struck them silent, it was an awing sense of something supernatural, something not quite real. It was as though they had suddenly caught a glimpse of a demon of the underworld.

The dread cry continued for some minutes, then gradually grew fainter, until it seemed smothered by the intervening hills.

Before any of the party gathered courage to speak, a tall figure, like a fleeting shadow, glided across the path in front of them, and rapidly disappeared into the darkness. He seemed bent on an errand and was going toward the northeast mountain ranges.

"It's the Indian," whispered Carl, as the form hurried into the darkness.

"What do you suppose that noise was?" queried Jerry in a low tone.

"Was it a hawk?" asked Fly cautiously, crowding nearer to Carl.

"I've heard hawks cry and eagles scream, but never like that," returned the Indian, his voice growing louder.

"What was it then?" asked Fly in a natural voice, gathering courage as the conversation progressed.

"I never heard one, of course," replied Carl slowly, "but I think that was the Thunder Bird."

"That's just what it was," exclaimed Dunk at once.

For some moments n.o.body spoke, then Carl said reflectively: "I suppose that Indian friend of ours heard it too, and is on the trail."

"You'd better look out or he'll get it before you do," commented the captain, who had heard of the mysterious stranger.