Wyoming Part 13

Another whoop was heard, then others at the rear, and those who glanced back caught sight of several warriors flitting among the trees and within the toss of a stone of them.

Brainerd would have fired again had it been in his power, but his gun was unloaded and it was impossible to ram a charge home, and pour the powder in the pan, without coming to a standstill for a minute or two, and such hesitation would be death.

Had the place of refuge toward which they were hastening been a dozen rods farther, not one of the fugitives would have reached it alive, but, at the critical moment, Gimp, the African, told the joyous news that it was at hand, and a general scramble followed.

The servant paused at the head of the elevated path, and turning around, beckoned excitedly for the others to hurry, when they were already doing their utmost, while he danced about and waited the few seconds necessary for them to reach him.

While he was doing so, Habakkuk McEwen suddenly vanished from sight, evidently concluding that the "time for disappearing" had come.

He had caught sight of the refuge, and with one bound he went down the declivity and was first to enter.

He took a sweeping glance of the interior, and was disappointed, for it was not what he expected, but it was far better than the open wilderness. He dashed for the narrow path on the outside, to take his part in yelling for the others to hurry up, or rather down.

"Be quick! Quick!"

It was Aunt Peggy who came panting into the opening with a rush, and, colliding with McEwen, sent him tumbling backwards.

By the time the bewildered New Englander was on his feet again, Maggie Brainerd, Eva, her father, and Gravity Gimp came crowding into the narrow place, all nearly out of breath.

There was a general looking around in the semi-gloom, and Habakkuk's disappointment was shared by those who had not seen the place before.

It was of little account, and, although it might be made to answer as a temporary refuge, it could hardly be expected to furnish secure defense for an extended time.

Descending a narrow path for twenty feet, and all the time along the face of the ravine, as it may be called, they reached a spot which looked as if it had been scooped out of the solid stone wall.

It ran back a dozen feet or more, and was about the same breadth and height, but the difficulty was that the opening was fully as great, so that, viewed from the front, the person or animal who might seek shelter there was in plain sight.

The spot was one of the many romantic ones that abound in the mountains fringing the Wyoming Valley. The rapidly sloping path that the fugitives followed terminated in front of the cave, which, therefore, could only be approached from the single direction. Beyond, the path narrowed off to nothing, leaving a perpendicular wall of stone for twenty feet below, and almost as much overhead.

The ravine on which this bordered was fifty feet across, but directly opposite was the weak point of the defense.

A ma.s.s of rocks rose fully as high, if not a few feet higher, than the cavern in which the fugitives had taken refuge; consequently, if an enemy could gain a position behind these boulders, he could fire down into the opening, where our friends had no means of protecting themselves from the shots.

But it was no easy matter to reach this monument-like pile, though it could be done at much risk to the one attempting it. The configuration was so peculiar that one man at a time could creep along behind the other stones, until a point was almost reached which commanded the retreat, though the inmates, by pressing close against one side of the cavern, could escape the fire of an enemy.

On the other side there was no means of approach to such a position.

If a foe would climb up the rocks, and steal forward to a certain point, an active Indian could make a leap that would carry him to the cover of the pile, where he could aim and shoot into the cavern without risk to himself, provided he used ordinary caution.

Furthermore, it was unlikely that the Indians, skilled as they were in woodcraft, would fail to see this vulnerable point and their own coigne of vantage.

In truth they detected it almost on the same instant the fugitives hurried into the cavern.

CHAPTER XIX.

Fortunately both Gravity Gimp and Mr. Brainerd knew the peculiar construction of their refuge, and instant precautions were taken.

"Keep back as far as you can," said the elder, "and stay close to the wall on the right."

His order was obeyed, Habakkuk McEwen and the African both moving in that direction.

"You come too, papa," insisted Eva, catching hold of the arm of her father, who smilingly took a step or two.

"Yes," added Maggie, "if we all place ourselves beyond reach, why should not _you_ do the same?"

He explained the situation.

"If the Indians get to that ma.s.s of rocks opposite, they can shelter themselves and shoot into the cavern until there is not one of us left."

"But is it necessary for you to stay out there, and draw their fire to keep them away from us?"

"Not exactly, but we must see that they do not creep to the spot; before doing so, they must pa.s.s under our aim, and it will require no great marksmans.h.i.+p to prevent them."

Thereupon, directing Gravity and Habakkuk to keep strict watch upon the place, with their rifles c.o.c.ked, Mr. Brainerd deliberately reloaded his gun, and s.h.i.+fting his position so as to screen himself from the bullets that were certain to be sent into the place, he sat like a cat watching for a rat to come out of its hole.

The fugitives talked in low tones, for there was something in the uncertainty that was impressive.

Now that they were removed from imminent danger, they could breathe with some satisfaction, though sobered by their peril.

"It's all that Jake Golcher's doings," said Aunt Peggy, who was at the extreme rear of the cavern, with one arm around the neck of Eva and the other inclosing that of Maggie.

"I shouldn't wonder if you are right," replied Maggie; "he must be a wicked man indeed."

"Umph!" exclaimed the maiden, with a sniff, "there ain't a more scand'lous villain that ever drawed the breath of life, and I know what I'm saying, and jus' to think, you had a chance and didn't shoot him."

"But, aunty--"

"Shet up, don't interrupt me," broke in the relative, with a vigorous shake of the arm inclosing the neck of Maggie.

"How many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I am talking?

Don't you know what's good manners?"

"But, aunty," said Maggie, softly, "I don't see how I can talk at _any_ time without interrupting you."

Eva giggled, but fortunately Aunt Peggy did not catch the full meaning of the demure remark, and she said, rather sharply:

"It's easy enough to tell when I'm talking by just listening, and when I'm talking you must keep still; but I want you to remember that that piece of burglary on your part has got to be settled."

"What do you mean, aunty?"

"I told you you deserved your ears cuffed, and when we get to a place where I can do it with some comfort to myself, I am going to cuff them, _that_ you can depend on."

There could be no question about the earnestness of these words, and Maggie, like an obedient child, said nothing, glad to await the time when her aunt should punish her for sparing the wretch who was now trying to hound them to their death.