"No," replied the chief, smiling; "because the Apache dogs would carry all away."

"Well," said the Doctor, "we must not risk it. Let us go out and cut as much grass as we can to-day, for the poor brutes are in great distress."

The chief nodded, and said that it was good; and while strict watch was kept from the rock, three parts of the men were hurried down to the nearest point where there was an abundance of buffalo-grass really in a state of naturally-made hay, and bundles of this were cut and carried to the starving cattle.

It was a terribly arduous job in the hot sun; and it made the Doctor think that if matters went on in this way, the silver procured from the mine would be very dearly bought.

Even with all their efforts there was but a very scanty supply obtained, and of that Joses declared the mules got by far the best share, biting and kicking at the horses whenever they approached, and driving the more timid quite away.

Strict watch was kept that night, but no Apaches came, and as soon as it was light the next morning the horizon was swept in the hope of finding that they were gone; but no such good fortune attended the silver-miners, and instead, to the Doctor's chagrin, of their being able to continue their toil of obtaining the precious metal, it was thought advisable to go out and cut more fodder for the starving beasts.

The next day came, and no Apaches were visible.

"We can drive the cattle out to-day, Beaver," said the Doctor; "the enemy are gone."

"The Apache dogs are only hiding," replied the chief, "and will ride down as soon as the cattle are feeding by the lake."

The Doctor uttered an impatient ejaculation and turned to Joses.

"What do you say?" he asked.

"Beaver's right, master."

"Well, perhaps he is; but we can't go on like this," cried the Doctor, impatiently. "No silver can be dug if the men are to be always cutting grass. Here! you and Harry and a dozen greasers, drive out half the cattle to feed. Bart, you take the glass, and keep watch from high up the path. The signal of danger directly you see the Indians is the firing of your piece. If you hear that fired, Joses, you are to drive in the cattle directly, and we will cover your return."

"Good!" said Joses; and without a word he summoned Harry and a dozen men, going off directly after through the gateway to the corral, saying to Bart, as he went, "Of course, I do as master tells me, but you keep a sharp look-out, Master Bart, or we shan't get them bullocks and cows back."

Bart promised, and took his station, rifle across his knee and glass in hand, to look out for danger, while before he had been there long the Beaver came and sat beside him, making Bart hurriedly apologise for the risk he had caused on the day of their adventure, he never having been alone since with the chief.

"Master Bart, brave young chief," was all the Indian said; and then he sat silently gazing out over the plain, while no sooner were the cattle released than they set off lowing towards the pastures at a long lumbering gallop, Joses and his followers having hard work to keep up with them, for they needed no driving.

In less than half an hour they were all munching away contentedly enough, with Joses and his men on the far side to keep the drove from going too far out towards the plain, and then all at once the Beaver started up, pointing right away.

"Apache dogs!" he shouted.

Bart brought the glass to bear, and saw that the chief was right.

In an instant he had cocked and fired his piece, giving the alarm, when the garrison ran to their places ready to cover the coming in of the cattle-drivers and their herd, Bart, seeing that Joses had taken the alarm, and with his men was trying to drive the feeding animals back.

But the Doctor had not calculated upon hunger and bovine obstinacy. The poor brutes after much fasting were where they could eat their fill, and though Joses and his men drove them from one place, they blundered back to another, lowing, bellowing, and getting more and more excited, but never a step nearer to their corral.

And all this while the Apaches were coming on at full speed, sweeping over the level plain like a cloud.

The Doctor grew frantic.

"Quick!" he cried; "we must go out to help Joses and his men. No, it would be madness. Good heavens! what a mistake!"

"Let me go with the Beaver and his men to his help," cried Bart excitedly.

"My dear Bart, the Indians will be upon them before you could reach the horses, let alone saddle and bridle and mount."

"It is true," said the Beaver, sternly. "Chief Joses must fight the Apache dogs himself."

Bart knew they could do nothing, and just then he saw that the Mexican greasers had left the cattle, and were coming at full speed as hard as they could run towards the shelter of the rock.

"The cattle must go," cried the Doctor, bitterly. "It is my fault. Why does not Joses leave them? Harry is running with the others."

"Because poor Joses is too brave a fellow," cried Bart in despair. "I must go to his help; I must indeed," he cried piteously.

"Young chief Bart must stay," said the Beaver, sternly, as he seized the lad's arm. "He would be killed. Let chief Joses be. He is wise, and can laugh at the Apache dogs."

It was an exciting scene, the Mexican labourers fleeing over the plain, the cattle calmly resuming their grazing, and the cloud of Indian horsemen tearing along like a whirlwind.

The occupants of the rock were helpless, and the loss of the cattle was forgotten in the peril of Joses, though murmurs long and deep were uttered by the Englishmen against him who had sent them out to graze.

In spite, too, of the terrible loss, there was something interesting and wonderfully exciting in the way in which the Apaches charged down with lowered lances, the cattle calmly grazing till they were near; then lifting up their heads in wonder, and as the Indians swooped round, they wheeled about, and went off at a gallop, but only to be cleverly headed and driven back; and then with the Apaches behind, and forming a crescent which partly enclosed the lumbering beasts, they were driven off at full speed fight away towards the plain, gradually disappearing from their owners' eyes.

"Only half as many to feed," said the Doctor, bitterly.

"Poor Joses!" groaned Bart with a piteous sigh.

"Chief Joses coming," said the Beaver pointing; and to the delight of all they could see Joses in the distance, his rifle shouldered, marching quietly towards them, and evidently making himself a cigarette as he came.

Half an hour later he was in their midst.

"Couldn't save the obstinate beasts, master," he said quietly; "they were worse than buffler."

"But how did you manage to escape?" cried the Doctor and Bart in a breath.

"Oh! when I see it was all over, I just crept under a bush, and waited till the Indian dogs had gone."

"Chief Joses too wise for Apache dog," said the Beaver, with a calm smile. "Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth told young chief Bart so."

"Yes," said Bart; "and I can't tell you how glad I am."

"Just about as glad as I am, Master Bart," said Joses, gruffly. "I did my best, master, and I couldn't do no more."

"I know, Joses," replied the Doctor. "It was my fault; and the greasers ran away?"

"Lord, master, if we'd had five hundred thousand greasers there it would have been all the same. Nothing but a troop of horse would have brought the obstinate cattle back to their corral. You won't send out no more?"

"No, Joses, not a hoof," said the Doctor, gloomily; and he went to his tent on the top of the mountain to ponder upon the gloomy state of their affairs.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

ANOTHER FRIEND COMES BACK.

Watch was set that night as usual, but it came on so pitchy dark that nothing could be made out distinctly a yard away. Bart was with the Beaver and Joses in their old place in the gallery, fortunately well-sheltered by the rock overhead, for the rain came down in torrents, and gurgled loudly as it rushed in and out of the crevices of the rock, finding its way to the plains.

"How uneasy the cattle seem!" said Bart once, as they could be heard lowing down below in the darkness.

"'Nough to make 'em," said Joses, with a chuckle; "they'll have got wet through to-night, and I daresay there'll be water enough in the stable for the horses to nearly swim."

"What a night for the Apaches!" said Bart after a pause, as they crouched there listening to the hiss and roar of the falling waters. "Suppose they were to come; we would never see them."

"But they wouldn't in a night like this," replied Joses. "Would they, Beaver?"

"Beaver don't know. Beaver think much," replied the chief. "He and his men would come if they wanted their enemies' horses; but perhaps the Apaches are dogs and cowards, and would fear the rain."

Towards morning the rain ceased, and with the rising sun the clouds cleared away, the sun shining out brilliantly; and as the Beaver strained over the stones to get a good look into the corral, he uttered a hoarse cry.

"What's wrong?" cried Bart and Joses, starting up from their wearying cramped position.

"Cattle gone!" cried the Beaver; and a moment later, "Horses are gone!"

It was too true; for, taking advantage of the darkness and the heavy rain, the Apaches had sent in a party of their cleverest warriors, who had quietly removed the barriers of rock, and the cattle had followed their natural instinct, and gone quietly out to the last hoof, the horses the same, making their way down to the pastures, where, at the first breaking of day, there was a strong band of mounted men ready to drive them right away into the plain, where the Beaver pointed them out miles away, moving slowly in the bright sunshiny morning.

The alarm was given, but nothing could be done, and the Doctor looked with dismay at the lowering faces of the men who had agreed to follow his fortunes out there into the wilderness.

"You never said that we should meet with enemies like this," said one man, threateningly. "You said you'd bring us where silver was in plenty, that was all."

"And have I not?" cried the Doctor, sharply. "There, now, get to your work; we have plenty of food and water, and we are relieved of the care of our horses and cattle. The Apaches will not interfere with us perhaps now, and when they have gone, we must communicate with Lerisco, and get more cattle. Have we not silver enough to buy all the cattle in the province?"

This quieted the complainers, and they went quietly to their tasks, getting out the ore in large quantities, though it was, of course, impossible to touch the vein in the canyon. That had to be reserved for more peaceful times.

It almost seemed as if the Doctor was right, and that the Apaches would go away contented now; but when Bart asked the Beaver for his opinion, he only laughed grimly.

"As long as we are here they will come," he said. "They will never stay away."

"That's pleasant, Joses," said Bart; and then he began to bemoan the loss of his little favourite, Black Boy.

"Ah! it's a bad job, my lad," said Joses, philosophically; "but when you go out into the wilderness, you never know what's coming. For my part, I don't think I should ever take to silver-getting as a trade."

It was a serious matter this loss of the horses and cattle, but somehow the Indians seemed to bear it better than the whites. Whatever they felt they kept to themselves, stolidly bearing their trouble, while the Englishmen and Mexicans never ceased to murmur and complain.

"How is it, Joses?" asked Bart one day, as they two were keeping guard by the gate. "One would think that the Indians would feel it more than any one else."

"Well, yes, my lad, one would think so; but don't you see how it is? An Indian takes these things coolly, for this reason; his horse is stolen to-day, to-morrow his turn will come, and he'll carry off perhaps a dozen horses belonging to some one else."

Their task was easy, for the Apaches seemed to have forsaken them in spite of the Beaver's prophecy, and several days went by in peace, not a sign being discovered of the enemy. The little colony worked hard at getting silver, and this proved to be so remunerative, that there was no more murmuring about the loss of the cattle and horses; but all the same, Bart saw that the Doctor went about in a very moody spirit, for he knew that matters could not go on as they were. Before long they must have fresh stores, and it was absolutely necessary for communications to be opened up with Lerisco if they were to exist at the mountain.

"I don't know what is to be done, Bart," the Doctor said one day. "I cannot ask the Indians to go without horses, and if a message is not conveyed to the governor asking him for help, the time will come, and is not far distant, when we shall be in a state of open revolution, because the men will be starving."

"Not so bad as that, sir," cried Bart.

"Yes, my dear boy, it is as bad as that I begin to repent of coming upon this silver expedition, for I am very helpless here with these wretched savages to mar all my plans."

It was the very next morning that, after being on guard at the gate all night, Bart was thinking of the times when, for the sake of protecting the cattle, they had kept guard in the gallery over the corral and by the cavern stable, when, out in the bright sunshine at the foot of the mountain, he saw a sight which made him rub his eyes and ask himself whether he was dreaming.

For there, calmly cropping what herbage he could find, was his old favourite who had carried him so often and so well—Black Boy.

"He must have escaped," cried Bart excitedly, "or else it is a trap to get us to go out, and the Indians are waiting for us."

With this idea in his mind he called Joses and the Beaver, showing them the little horse, and they both agreeing that it was no trap or plan on the Indians' part, Bart eagerly ran out and called the docile little steed, which came trotting up and laid its soft muzzle in his hand.

"If he could only have coaxed the others into coming with him," said Bart, "we should have been all right;" and leading his favourite up to the gateway, he coaxed it to enter and climb carefully up over the rugged stones till it was well in a state of safety, for he felt that he dared not risk leaving it outside.

It was almost absurd to see the curious way in which the little horse placed one foot before another, pawing at the road to make sure of its being safe before he trusted it and planted it firmly down, and so on with the others; but Bart's word seemed to give him confidence, and step by step he climbed up till he was in the spot where his master intended him to stay, when he gave a loud snort as if of relief, and stood perfectly still while he was haltered to a peg.



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

A WILD NIGHT-RIDE.

"Yes, Bart," said the Doctor, "we have a horse now for a messenger, but I dare not send you; and if you lent Black Boy to the Beaver and sent him, I am sure the governor would never respond to my appeal for help. I should be doubtful even if I sent Joses."

"Black Boy would not let Joses mount him, sir," replied Bart; "he never would."

"I dare not send you," said the Doctor again.

"Why not, sir? I could find my way," replied Bart excitedly. "Trust me, and I will go and tell the governor such a tale that you will see he will send us a squadron or two of lancers, and horses and cattle for our help."

"I do not like sending you, Bart," said the Doctor again, shaking his head. "No, we will wait and see how matters turn out."

The silver-mining went on merrily, and universal satisfaction was felt by the people, who were too busy to think of the rate at which provisions were failing; but the Doctor thought of it deeply, and he knew that help must be sent for if they were to exist.

They had made two or three excursions into the canyon and brought up large quantities of salmon, and what was dearer to the hearts of all, large pieces of virgin silver; and after the last excursion it had been determined to risk the coming of the Indians, and work the rich deposits of silver below, when, the very next morning at daybreak, the Beaver announced the coming of the Apaches.

"And now," he said quietly to Bart and Joses, "the Beaver's young men will get back many horses."

"Yes, I thought that," said Joses, "and I'm willing; but take care of yourselves, my lads; there is danger in the task."

The Beaver nodded and smiled and went his way, while Bart joined the Doctor, who was eagerly watching the coming savages as they rode slowly across the distant plains.

"Bart," he said at last, shutting up his glass, "you are very young."

Bart nodded.

"But I find myself compelled to send you on a very dangerous errand."

"To ride on to Lerisco, sir?" said Bart promptly. "I'm ready, sir; when shall I go?"

"Not so fast," said the Doctor, smiling at the lad's bravery and eagerness. "You must make some preparations first."

"Oh, that will soon be done, sir; a few pieces of dried bison-meat and a bag of meal, and I shall be ready."

"I was thinking," said the Doctor, "that I ought to have sent you off before the Indians came, but I have since thought that it is better as it is, for we know now where our enemies are. If I had sent you yesterday, you might have ridden right into their midst."

"That's true, sir. But when shall I go?"

"If I send you, Bart, it must be to-night, with a letter for the governor, one which, I am sure, he will respond to, when he hears from you of the enormous wealth of the canyon and the mine. Now go and consult with the Beaver as to the track you had better follow so as to avoid the Indians. I must take a few precautions against attack, for they seem to be coming straight on, and I sadly fear that they mean to invest us now."

Bart found the Beaver, who was watching his natural foes, the Apaches, along with Joses, as they talked together in a low tone.

"I am going to ride back to Lerisco for help," said Bart suddenly.

"You are, my lad?" cried Joses. "I shall go too."

"But you have no horse, Joses," said Bart smiling, and the rough fellow smote himself heavily on the chest.

"It is good," said the Beaver in his calm way. "My young men would like to ride with you, but it cannot be."

"Tell me, Beaver, how I had better go so as to escape the Apaches."

"The young chief must ride out as soon as it is dark, and go straight for the lake, and round its end, then straight away. The Apache dogs will not see him; if they do, they will not catch him in the dark. Ugh!" he ejaculated with a look of contempt, "the Apache dogs are no match for the young chief."

Bart could not help feeling very strangely excited as the evening approached, the more especially that the Apaches had come close on several hundred strong, and they could see them from the rock lead their horses down into the lake for water, and then remount them again, while a couple of small parties remained on foot, and it seemed possible that they intended to make an attack upon the fortress, for they were all well-armed.

"I shouldn't wonder if we have a bad storm to-night, Master Bart," said Joses, as the sun set in a band of curious coppery-coloured clouds, while others began to form rapidly all over the face of the heavens, with a strangely weird effect. "You won't go if the weather's bad, I s'pose, my lad?"

"Indeed but I shall," said Bart excitedly. "If I am to go, I shall go."

The Doctor came up then and seemed torn by two opinions, speaking out frankly to the lad upon the point.

"I don't want to send you, Bart, and yet I do," he said, rather excitedly. "It seems an act of cruelty to send you forth on such a mission, but it is my only hope."

"I'll go, sir," cried Bart, earnestly. "I'll go for your sake and Maude's."

"Thank you, my brave lad," cried the Doctor with emotion, "but it is going to be a terrible night."

"The safer for our purpose, sir," replied Bart. "There, sir, I won't tell a lie, and say I do not feel timid, because I do; but I mean to mount and ride off boldly, and you'll see I'll bring back plenty of help, and as quickly as I can."

"But wait another night, my lad; it will be finer perhaps. There is no moon, and if it clouds over, you will never find your way to the lake."

"Black Boy will, sir, I know," said Bart laughing. "I am keeping him without water on purpose."

"A clever idea, Bart," said the Doctor.

"Yes, sir," said Bart, "but it is not mine. It was the Beaver's notion. Those dismounted Indians are coming right in, sir, I think," he said.

"Yes, without doubt, Bart," exclaimed the Doctor, watching them. "Yes, they mean to get somewhere close up. There will be an attack to-night."

"Then I shall gallop away from it," said Bart laughing, "for I am afraid of fighting."

Two hours later, Black Boy, already saddled and bridled, a good blanket rolled up on his saddle-bow, and a bag of meal and some dried bison-flesh attached to his pad behind, was led down the rugged way to the gate, which had been opened out ready. Joses and the Indians were on either side ready with their rifles as the lad mounted in the outer darkness and silence; a few farewell words were uttered, and he made his plans as to the direction in which he meant to ride, which was pretty close in to the side of the mountain for about a quarter of a mile, and then away at right angles for the end of the lake.

"Good-bye, my boy, and God be with you," whispered the Doctor, pressing one hand.

"Take care of yourself, dear lad," whispered Joses, pressing the other, and then giving way to the chief, who bent forward, saying, in his low, grave voice—

"The Beaver-with-Sharp-Teeth would like to ride beside the brave young chief, but the Great Spirit says it must not be. Go; you can laugh at the Apache dogs."

Bart could not answer, but pressed his steed's sides, and the brave little animal would have gone off through the intense darkness at a gallop; but this was not what Bart wished, and checking him, Black Boy ambled over the soft ground, avoiding the rocks and tall prickly cacti with wonderful skill, while Bart sat there, his ears attent and nostrils distended, listening for the slightest sound of danger, as the Indians might be swarming round him for aught he knew; and as he thought it possible that one of the dismounted bodies might be creeping up towards the gateway close beneath the rocks, he found himself hoping that the party had gone in and were blocking up the entrance well with stones.

The darkness was terrible, and still there was a strange lurid aspect above him, showing dimly the edge of the top of the mountain. That there was going to be a storm he felt sure—everything was so still, the heat was so great, and the strange oppression of the air foretold its coming; but he hoped to be far on his way and beyond the Indians ere it came, for the flashes of lightning might betray him to the watchful eyes of the enemy, and then he knew it meant a ride for life, as it would not take the Apaches long to mount.

All at once, as he was riding cautiously along, his rifle slung behind him, and his head bent forward to peer into the darkness, there was a sharp flash, and what seemed to be a great star of fire struck the rock, shedding a brilliant light which revealed all around for a short distance, as if a light had suddenly appeared from an opening in the mountain; and then, close in beneath where the electric bolt had struck, he could see a knot of about a dozen Indians, who uttered a tremendous yell as they caught sight of him, making Black Boy tear off at full speed, while the next moment there was a deafening crash, and it seemed to Bart that a huge mass of the mountain-side had fallen crumbling down.

That one flash which struck the mountain seemed as if it had been the signal for the elements to commence their strife, for directly after the heavens were in a blaze. Forked lightning darted here and there; the dense clouds opened and shut, as if to reveal the wondrously vivid glories beyond, and the thunder kept up a series of deafening peals that nearly drove the little steed frantic.

As to his direction, Bart was ignorant. All he knew was that he ought to have ridden some distance farther before turning off, but that awful flash had made the cob turn and bound away at once; and as far as the rider could make out, they were going straight for the lake with the dismounted Indians running and yelling madly behind.

At least that was what he fancied, for, as he listened, all he could hear was the deafening roar of the thunder, and the sharp crackling sound of the lightning as it descended in rugged streaks, or ran along the ground, one flash showing him the lake right ahead, and enabling him to turn a little off to the left, so as to pass its end.

He knew now that the pealing thunder would effectually prevent the Indians from hearing him, but the lightning was a terrible danger when it lit up the plains; and as he peered ahead, he fully expected to see a body of horsemen riding to cut him off. But no; he went on through the storm at a good swinging gallop, having his steed well now in hand, a few pats on its arching neck and some encouraging words chasing away its dread of the lightning, which grew more vivid and the thunder more awful as he rode on.

After a time he heard a low rushing, murmuring sound in the intervals when the thunder was not bellowing, so that it seemed to rock the very foundations of the earth. It was a strange low murmur, that sounded like the galloping of horsemen at a great distance; and hearing this, Bart went off at a stretching gallop, crashing through bushes and tall fleshy plants, some of which pierced the stout leggings that he wore, giving him painful thrusts from their thorns, till, all at once, the rushing sound as of horsemen ceased, and he realised the fact that it was the noise of a storm of rain sweeping across the plain, borne upon the wind to fall almost in sheets of water, though he passed quite upon its outskirts, and felt only a few heavy pattering drops.

He had passed the end of the lake in safety, and was beginning to be hopeful that he would escape the Indians altogether, but still he could not understand how it was that the little dismounted body of men had not spread the alarm, for he knew that they must have seen him, the ball of light that struck the rock having lit up everything, and he knew that he seemed to be standing out in the middle of a regular glare of light; but after the deafening crash that followed he had heard no more—no distant shouts—no war-whoop. They would be sure to communicate with their nearest scouts, and their bodies of mounted men would have begun to scour the plain in spite of the storm; for he could not think that the Apaches, who were constantly exposed to the warfare of the elements, would be too much alarmed to attempt the pursuit.

"They would not be more cowardly than I am," he said with a half laugh, as he galloped on, with Black Boy going easily, and with a long swinging stride that carried him well over the plain, but whether into safety or danger he could not tell.

All he knew was that chance must to a great extent direct his steps, and so he galloped on with the rain left behind and a soft sweet breeze playing upon his face, the oppression of the storm seeming to pass away, while it was plain enough that the thunder and lightning were momentarily growing more distant, as if he were riding right out of it towards where the air and sky were clearer. Before long, he felt sure, the stars would be out, and he could see his way, instead of galloping on in this reckless chance manner, leaving everything to his horse.

"I can't quite understand it," said Bart; "there must have been some mistake. Of course, I see now. I was riding straight along under the mountain-side when Black Boy swerved almost right round and went off in another direction: that and the darkness threw them off the track, but they will be sure to strike my trail in the morning. Black Boy's hoof-prints will be plain enough in the soft earth where the rain has not washed them away, and they'll come on after me like a pack of hungry wolves. How I wish I knew whether I was going right! It would be so valuable now to get right away before morning."

Bart was getting well ahead, but not in the best direction. He had, however, no occasion to fear present pursuit, for the knot of dismounted Indians whom he had seen close under the rock when the lightning fell lay crushed and mangled amongst a pile of shattered rocks which the electric discharge had sent thundering down, while as Bart was cantering on, full of surmises, where not a drop of rain was falling, the storm seemed to have chosen the mountain as its gathering point, around which the lightning was playing, the thunder crashing, and the water streaming down, so that in places regular cascades swept over the sides of the rock, and tore away like little rivers over the plain.

For the time being, then, Bart had nothing to fear from these unfortunate Apaches; but, as the storm lulled, and another little body of dismounted Indians crept cautiously up to the fallen rocks, their object being to surprise the guards at the gateway, they learned from one of their dying friends of the appearance of the young chief upon his little black horse, and that he had gone right off over the plain.

The sequel to this was that the dead and dying soon were borne away, and a party was formed at daybreak to take steps that would have made Bart had he known, feel terribly uncomfortable, instead of growing hour by hour more confident and at his ease.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

HUNTED BY INDIANS.

There's something wonderfully inspiriting in sunshine—something that makes the heart leap and the blood course through the veins, raising the spirits, and sending trouble along with darkness far away into the background.

As the sun rose, flooding the wild plains with heat, and Bart drew rein and looked about after his long night-ride to see that there was hardly a cloud in sight, and, better still, no sign of Indians, he uttered a cry of joy, and bent down and smoothed and patted his brave little steed, which had carried him so far and so well.

Then he had a good look round, to see if he could make out his position, and, after a while, came to the conclusion that he was not so very far out of his way, and that by turning off a little more to the west he would soon be in the direct route.

In patting and making much of Black Boy, Bart found that the little horse was dripping with perspiration, many, many miles running having been got over in the night; and if the journey was to be satisfactorily performed, he knew that there must be some time for rest.

With this idea, then, Bart turned a little to the east, and rode straight for a clump of trees about a couple of miles away, a spot that promised ample herbage and shade, perhaps water, while, unseen, he could keep a good look-out over the open plain.

The patch Bart reached was only of a few acres in extent, and it offered more than he had bargained for, there being a pleasantly clear pool of water in an open spot, while the grass was so tempting that he had hardly time to remove Black Boy's bit, so eager was he to begin. He was soon tethered to a stout sapling, however, feeding away to his heart's content, while, pretty well wearied out by his long night-ride, Bart sat down beneath a tree where he could have a good view of the plain over which he had ridden, and began to refresh himself, after a good draught of pure cool water, with one of the long dry strips of bison-meat that formed his store.

Nature will have her own way. Take away from her the night's rest that she has ordained for man's use and refreshment, and she is sure to try and get it back. And so it was here; for as Bart sat munching there in the delicious restfulness of his position, with the soft warm breeze just playing through the leaves, the golden sunshine raining down amongst the leaves and branches in dazzling streams, while the pleasant whirr and hum of insects was mingled with the gentle crop, crop, crop of Black Boy's teeth as he feasted on the succulent growth around, all tended to produce drowsiness, and in a short time he found himself nodding.

Then he roused himself very angrily, telling himself that he must watch; and he swept the plain with his eyes. But, directly after, as he thought that he must hurry on, as it was a case of life and death, he was obliged to own that the more haste he exercised the less speed there would be, for his horse could not do the journey without food and rest.

That word rest seemed to have a strange effect upon him, and he repeated it two or three times over, his hand dropping wearily at his side as he did so, and his eyes half closing while he listened to the pleasant hum of the insects all around.

Then he started into wakefulness again, determined to watch and wait until a better time for sleep; but as he came to this determination, the sound of the insects, the soft cropping and munching noise made by Black Boy, and the pleasant breath of the morning as it came through the trees, were too sweet to be resisted, and before poor Bart could realise the fact that he was ready to doze, he was fast asleep with his head upon his breast.

The sun grew higher and hotter, and Black Boy, who did not seem to require sleep, cropped away at the grass till he had finished all that was good within his reach, after which he made a dessert of green leaves and twigs, and then, having eaten as much as he possibly could, he stood at the end of his tether, with his head hanging down as if thinking about the past night's storm or some other object of interest, ending by propping his legs out a little farther, and, imitating his master, going off fast asleep.

Then the sun grew higher still, and reached the highest point before beginning to descend, and then down, down, down, all through the hot afternoon, till its light began to grow softer and more mellow, and the shadows cast by the tree-trunks went out in a different direction to that which they had taken when Bart dropped asleep.

All at once he awoke in a fright, for something hard was thumping and pawing at his chest, and on looking up, there was Black Boy right over him, scraping and pawing at him as if impatient to go on.

"Why, I must have been asleep," cried Bart, catching at the horse's head-stall and thrusting him away. "Gently, old boy; your hoofs are not very soft. You hurt."

He raised himself up, stretching the while.

"How tiresome to sleep like that!" he muttered. "Why, I had not finished my breakfast, and—"

Bart said no more, but stood there motionless staring straight before him, where the plain was now ruddy and glowing with the rays of the evening sun.

For there, about a mile away, he could see a body of some twenty or thirty Indians coming over the plain at an easy rate, guided evidently by one on foot who ran before them with bended head, and Bart knew as well as if he had heard the words shouted in his ear that they were following him by his trail.

There was not a moment to lose, and with trembling hands he secured the buckles of his saddle-girths, and strapped on the various little articles that formed his luggage, slung his rifle, and then leading the cob to the other side of the patch of woodland, where he would be out of sight of the Indians, he mounted, marked a spot on the horizon which would keep him in a direct line and the woodland clump as long as possible between him and his enemies, and rode swiftly off.

The inclination was upon him to gaze back, but he knew in doing so he might swerve from the bee-line he had marked out, and he resisted the temptation, riding on as swiftly as his cob could go, and wondering all the while why it was that he had not been seen.

If he had been with the Apaches he would have ceased to wonder, for while Bart was galloping off on the other side, his well-rested and refreshed horse going faster and faster each minute as he got into swing, the Indians began to slacken their pace. There was no doubt about the trail, they knew: it led straight into the patch of woodland; and as this afforded ample cover, they might at any moment find themselves the objects of some able rifle-firing; and as they had suffered a good deal lately in their ranks, they were extra cautious.

The trail showed that only one fugitive was on the way, him of whom their dying comrade had spoken; but then the fugitive had made straight for this clump of trees, and how were they to know but that he expected to meet friends there, whose first volley would empty half the saddles of the little troop?

Indians can be brave at times, but for the most part they are cowardly and extremely cautious. Naturally enough an Indian, no matter to what tribe he belongs, has a great objection to being shot at, and a greater objection to being hit. So instead of riding boldly up, and finding out that Bart had just galloped away, the Apaches approached by means of three or four dismounted men, who crept slowly from clump of brush to patch of long grass, and so on and on, till first one and then another reached the edge of the woody place, where they rested for a time, eagerly scanning each leaf and tree-trunk for an enemy at whom to fire, or who would fire at them.

Then they crept on a little farther, and found Bart's halting-place and the feeding-ground of the horse. Then they came by degrees upon his trail through the wood, all very fresh, and still they went on cautiously, and like men to whom a false step meant a fatal bullet-wound, while all the time their companions sat there upon the plain, keen and watchful, ready for action at a moment's notice, and waiting the signal to come on.

At last this came, for the advanced dismounted scouts had traced the trail to the farther edge of the wood, and seen even the deep impression made by Bart's foot as he sprang upon his steed.

Then the mounted Apaches came on at a great rate, dashed through the wood and came up to their friends, who triumphantly pointed to the emerging trail, and on they all went once more, one man only remaining dismounted to lead the party, while the rest followed close behind.

This little piece of caution had given poor Bart two hours' start, and when the Indians came out of the wood, he had been a long time out of sight; but there was his plainly marked trail, and that they could follow, and meant to follow to the end.



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE END OF THE RACE.

Bart had the advantage of his enemies in this, that as long as he could keep well out of sight across the plains, he could go on as fast as his horse could gallop, while they had to cautiously track his every step. Then, too, when he came to dry, rocky, or stony portions, he took advantage thereof, for he knew that his horse's hoof-prints would be indistinct, and sometimes disappear altogether. These portions of the trail gave the Apaches endless difficulty, but they kept on tracking him step by step, and one slip on the lad's part would have been fatal.

Fortune favoured him, though, and he pressed on, hitting the backward route pretty accurately, and recognising the various mountains and hills they had passed under the Beaver's guidance; and every stride taken by the untiring little horse had its effect upon the lad, for it was one nearer to safety.

Still it was a terrible ride, for it was only after traversing some stony plain or patch of rock that he dared draw rein and take a few hours' rest, while his steed fed and recruited its energies as well.

He would lie down merely meaning to rest, and then drop off fast asleep, to awake in an agony of dread, tighten his saddle-girths, and go on again at speed, gazing fearfully behind him, expecting to see the Apaches ready to spring upon him and end his career.

But they were still, though he knew it not, far behind. All the same, though, they kept up their untiring tracking of the trail day after day till it was too dark to see, and the moment it was light enough to distinguish a footprint they were after him again.

Such a pertinacious quest could apparently have but one result—that of the quarry of these wolves being hunted down at last.

The days glided by, and Bart's store of provisions held out, for he could hardly eat, only drink with avidity whenever he reached water. The terrible strain had made his face thin and haggard, his eyes bloodshot, and his hands trembled as he grasped the rein—not from fear, but from nervous excitement consequent upon the little sleep he obtained, his want of regular food, and the feeling of certainty that he was being dogged by his untiring foes.

Sometimes to rest himself—a strange kind of rest, it may be said, and yet it did give him great relief—he would spring from Black Boy's back, and walk by his side as he toiled up some rough slope, talking to him and encouraging him with pats of the hand, when the willing little creature strove again with all its might on being mounted; in fact, instead of having to whip and spur, Bart found more occasion to hold in his patient little steed.

And so the time went on, till it was as in a dream that Bart recognised the various halting-places they had stayed at in the journey out, while the distance seemed to have become indefinitely prolonged. All the while, too, there was that terrible nightmare-like dread haunting him that the enemy were close behind, and scores of times some deer or other animal was magnified into a mounted Indian in full war-paint ready to bound upon his prey.

It was a terrible journey—terrible in its loneliness as well as in its real and imaginary dangers; for there was a good deal of fancied dread towards the latter part of the time, when Bart had reached a point where the Apaches gave up their chase, civilisation being too near at hand for them to venture farther.

On two occasions, though, the lad was in deadly peril; once when, growing impatient, the Apaches, in hunting fashion, had made a cast or two to recover the trail they had lost, galloping on some miles, and taking it up again pretty close to where Bart had been resting again somewhat too long for safety, though far from being long enough to recoup the losses he had sustained.

The next time was under similar circumstances, the Apaches picking up the sign of his having passed over the plain close beside a patch of rising ground, where he had been tempted into shooting a prong-horn antelope, lighting a fire, and making a hearty meal, of which he stood sadly in need.

The meal ended, a feeling of drowsiness came over the feaster, and this time Bart did not yield to it, for he felt that he must place many more miles behind him before it grew dark; so, rolling up the horse-hair lariat by which Black Boy had been tethered, once again he tightened the girths, and was just giving his final look round before mounting, congratulating himself with the thought that he had enough good roasted venison to last him for a couple more days, when his horse pricked his ears and uttered an impatient snort.

Just at the same moment there was the heavy thud, thud, thud, of horses' hoofs, and, without stopping to look, Bart swung himself up on his horse's back and urged him forward with hand, heel, and voice.

The plain before him was as level as a meadow, not a stone being in sight for miles, so that unless the cob should put his foot in some burrow, there was nothing to hinder his racing off and escaping by sheer speed.

There was this advantage too: Black Boy had been having a good rest and feed, while the pursuers had doubtless been making a long effort to overtake him.

The Apaches set up a furious yell as they caught sight of their prey, and urged on their horses, drawing so near before Bart could get anything like a good speed on, that they were not more than fifty yards behind, and thundering along as fast as they could urge their ponies.

This went on for half a mile, Bart feeling as if his heart was in his mouth, and that the chances of escape were all over; but somehow, in spite of the terrible peril he was in, he thought more about the Doctor and the fate of his expedition than he did of his own. For it seemed so terrible that his old friend and guardian—one who had behaved to him almost as a father should be waiting there day after day expecting help in vain, and perhaps thinking that his messenger had failed to do his duty.

"No, he won't, nor Joses neither, think that of me," muttered Bart. "I wish the Beaver were here to cheer one up a bit, as he did that other time when these bloodthirsty demons were after us."

"How their ponies can go!" he panted, as he turned his head to gaze back at the fierce savages, who tore along with feathers and long hair streaming behind them, as wild and rugged as the manes and tails of their ponies.

As they saw him look round, the Apaches uttered a tremendous yell, intended to intimidate him. It was just as he had begun to fancy that Black Boy was flagging, and that, though no faster, the Indians' ponies were harder and more enduring; but, at the sound of that yell and the following shouts of the insatiate demons who tore on in his wake, the little black cob gathered itself together, gave three or four tremendous bounds, stretched out racing fashion, and went away at a speed that astonished his rider as much as it did the savages, who began to fire at them now, bullet after bullet whizzing by as they continued their headlong flight.

The sound of the firing, too, had its effect on Black Boy, whose ear was still sore from the effect of the bullet that had passed through it, and he tore away more furiously than ever, till, finding that the Indians were losing ground, Bart eased up a little, but only to let the cob go again, for he was fretting at being held in, and two or three times a bullet came in pretty close proximity to their heads.

When night fell, the Apaches were on the other side of a long low ridge, down whose near slope the cob had come at a tremendous rate; and now that the Indians would not be able to follow him for some hours to come either by sight or trail, Bart altered his course, feeling sure that he could save ground by going to the right instead of to the left of the mountain-clump before him; and for the next few hours he breathed more freely, though he dared not stop to rest.

The next day he saw nothing of his pursuers, and the next they were pursuers no longer, but Bart knew it not, flying still for his life, though he was now in the region that would be swept by the lancers of the Government.

He did not draw rein till the light-coloured houses of the town were well within sight, and then he was too much excited to do more than ease up into a canter, for his nerves were all on the strain, his cheeks sunken, and his eyes starting and dull from exhaustion.

But there was the town at last, looking indistinct, though, and misty. All seemed to be like a dream now, and the crowd of swarthy, ragged Mexicans in their blankets, sombreros, and rugs were all part of his dream, too, as with his last effort he thrust his hand into his breast, and took out the letter of which he was the bearer. Then it seemed to him that, as he cantered through the crowd, with his cob throwing up the dust of the plaza, it was some one else who waved a letter over his head, shouting, "The governor! the governor!" to the swarthy staring mob; and, lastly, that it was somebody else who, worn out with exhaustion now that the task was done, felt as if everything had gone from him, every nerve and fibre had become relaxed, and fell heavily from the cob he rode into the dust.



CHAPTER FORTY.

BART TRIES CIVILISATION FOR A CHANGE.

For some hours all was blank to the brave young fellow, and then he seemed to struggle back into half-consciousness sufficient to enable him to drink from a glass held to his lips, and then once more all was blank for many hours.

When Bart awoke from the long sleep, it was to find Maude seated by his bedside looking very anxious and pale; and as soon as she saw his eyes open, she rose and glided from the room, when in a few minutes the governor and a tall quiet-looking fair-haired man, whom Bart had never before seen, entered the apartment.

"Ah! my young friend," exclaimed the governor, "how are you now?"

"Did you get the letter?" cried Bart excitedly.

"Yes; and I have given orders for a strong relief party to be mustered ready for going to our friend's help," replied the governor, "but we must get you strong first."

"I am strong enough, sir," cried Bart, sitting up. "I will guide them to the place. We must start at once."

"Really, my young friend," said the governor, "I don't think you could manage to sit a horse just yet."

"Indeed I can, sir," cried Bart. "I was only tired out, and hungry and sleepy. The Apaches have been hard upon my trail ever since I started a week—ten days—I'm afraid I don't know how many days ago."

"Here! you must not get excited," said the tall pale man, taking Bart's hand and feeling his pulse, and then laying his hand upon his forehead.

"Are you a doctor?" said Bart eagerly.

"Yes," said the governor, "this is Doctor Maclane."

"Yes, I am Doctor Maclane," said the tall fair man; "and Miss Maude, yonder, said I was to be sure and cure you."

"But I'm not ill," cried Bart, flushing.

"No," said Doctor Maclane, "you are not ill. No fever, my lad, nothing but exhaustion."

"I'll tell you what to prescribe for that," cried Bart excitedly.

"Well, tell me," said the Doctor, smiling.

"The same as Doctor Lascelles does, and used to when Joses and he and I had been hunting up cattle and were overdone."

"Well, what did he prescribe?" said Doctor Maclane.

"Plenty of the strongest soup that could be made," said Bart. "And now, please sir, when may we start—to-night?"

"No, no—impossible."

"But the Doctor is surrounded by enemies, sir, and hard pushed; every hour will be like so much suffering to him till he is relieved."

"To-morrow night, my lad, is the very earliest time we can be ready. The men could set out at once, but we must have store waggons prepared, and a sufficiency of things to enable the Doctor to hold his own when these savage beasts have been tamed down. They do not deserve to be called men."

"But you will lose no time, sir?" cried Bart.

"Not a minute, my lad; and so you had better eat and sleep all you can till we are quite ready to start."

"But you will not let them go without me, sir?" cried Bart imploringly.

"Not likely, my lad, that I should send my men out into the desert without a guide. There! I think he may get up, Doctor, eh?"

"Get up! yes," said the Doctor, laughing. "He has a constitution like a horse. Feed well and sleep well, my lad, and lie down a good deal in one of the waggons on your way back."

"Oh, no, sir, I must ride."

"No, my lad, you must do as the Doctor advises you," said the governor, sternly. "Besides, your horse will want all the rest it can have after so terrible a ride as you seem to have had."

"Yes, sir," said Bart, who saw how much reason there was in the advice, "I will do what you wish."

"That's right, my lad," said the governor. "Now then we will leave you, and you may dress and join us in the next room, where Donna Maude is, like me, very anxious to learn all about the Doctor's adventures and your own. You can tell us and rest as well."

Bart was not long in dressing, and as he did so, he began to realise how terribly worn and travel-stained his rough hunting costume had become. It was a subject that he had never thought of out in the plains, for what did dress matter so long as it was a stout covering that would protect his body from the thorns? But now that he was to appear before the governor's lady and Maude, he felt a curious kind of shame that made him at last sit down in a chair, asking himself whether he had not better go off and hide somewhere—anywhere, so as to be out of his present quandary.

Sitting down in a chair too! How strange it seemed! He had not seated himself in a chair now for a very, very long time, and it seemed almost tiresome and awkward; but all the same it did nothing to help him out of his dilemma.

"Whatever shall I do?" thought Bart. "And how wretched it is for me to be waiting here when the Doctor is perhaps in a terrible state, expecting help!"

"He is in safety, though," he mused the next minute, "for nothing but neglect would make the place unsafe. How glad I am that I ran that risk, and went all round to make sure that there was no other way up to the mountain-top!"

Just then there was a soft tapping at the door, and a voice said—

"Are you ready to come, Bart? The governor is waiting."

"Yes—no, yes—no," cried Bart, in confusion, as he ran and opened the door. "I cannot come, Maude. Tell them I cannot come."

"You cannot come!" she cried, wonderingly. "And why not, pray?"

"Why not! Just look at my miserable clothes. I'm only fit to go and have dinner with the greasers."

Maude laughed and took hold of his hand.

"You don't know what our friends are like," she said, merrily. "They know how bravely you rode over the plains with dear father's message, and they don't expect you to be dressed in velvet and silver like a Mexican Don. Come along, sir, at once."

"Must I?" said Bart, shrinkingly.

"Must you! Why, of course, you foolish fellow! What does it matter about your clothes?"

Bart thought that it mattered a great deal, but he said no more, only ruefully followed Maude into the next room, where he met with so pleasantly cordial a reception that he forgot all his troubles about garments, and thoroughly enjoyed the meal spread before him whenever he could drag his mind away from thoughts of the Doctor in the desert waiting for help.

Then he had to relate all his adventures to the governor's lady, who, being childless, seemed to have made Maude fill the vacancy in her affections.

And so the time faded away, there being so much in Bart's modest narrative of his adventures that evening arrived before he could believe the fact, and this was succeeded by so long and deep a sleep, that it was several hours after sunrise before the lad awoke, feeling grieved and ashamed that he should have slept so calmly there while his friends were in such distress.

Springing from his couch, and having a good bath, he found to his great delight that all the weary stiffness had passed away, that he was bright and vigorous as ever, and ready to spring upon his horse at any time.

This made him think of Black Boy, to whose stable he hurried, the brave little animal greeting him with a snort that sounded full of welcome, while he rattled and tugged at his halter, and seemed eager to get out once more into the open.

The cob had been well groomed and fed, and to his master's great joy seemed to be no worse than when he started for his long journey to Lerisco. In fact, when Bart began to examine him attentively, so far from being exhausted or strained, the cob was full of play, pawing gently at his master and playfully pretending to bite, neighing loudly his disgust afterwards when he turned to leave the stables.

"There! be patient, old lad," he said, turning back to pat the little nag's glossy arched neck once more; "I'll soon be back. Eat away and rest, for you've got another long journey before you."

Whither Black Boy understood his master's words or not, it is impossible to say.

What! Is it ridiculous to suppose such a thing?

Perhaps so, most worthy disputant; but you cannot prove that the nag did not understand.

At all events, he thrust his velvety nose into the Indian-corn that had been placed for his meal, and went on contentedly crunching up the flinty grain, while Bart hurried away now to see how the preparations for starting were going on; for he felt, he could not explain why, neglectful of his friend's interests.

To his great delight, he found that great progress had been made: a dozen waggons had been filled with stores, thirty horses had been provided with drivers and caretakers, and a troop of fifty lancers, with their baggage-waggons and an ample supply of ammunition, were being prepared for their march, their captain carefully inspecting his men's accoutrements the while.

A finer body of bronzed and active men it would have been impossible to select. Every one was armed with a short heavy bore rifle, a keen sabre, and a long sharply pointed lance; while their horses were the very perfection of chargers, swift, full of bone and sinew, and looking as if, could their riders but get a chance, four times the number of Indians would go down before them like dry reeds in a furious gale.

"Are you only going to take fifty?" said Bart to the captain.

"That's all, my lad," was the reply. "Is it not enough?"

"There must have been five hundred Indians before the camp," replied Bart.

"Well, that's only ten times as many," said the captain laughingly, "Fifty are more than enough for such an attack, for we have discipline on our side, while they are only a mob. Don't you be afraid, my boy. I daresay we shall prove too many for them."

"I am not afraid," said Bart, stoutly; "but I don't want to see your party overwhelmed."

"And you shall not see it overwhelmed, my boy," replied the captain. "Do you see this sabre?"

"Yes," said Bart, gazing with interest at the keen weapon the officer held out for his inspection. "It looks very sharp."

"Well," said the captain, smiling, "experience has taught that this is a more dangerous weapon than the great heavy two-handed swords men used to wield. Do you know why?"

"Oh! yes," cried Bart; "while a man was swinging round a great two-handed sword, you could jump in and cut him down, or run him through with that."

"Exactly," said the captain, "and that's why I only take fifty men with me into the desert instead of two hundred. My troop of fifty represent this keen sharp sword, with which blade I can strike and thrust at the Indians again and again, when a larger one would be awkward and slow. Do you see?"

"Ye-e-es!" said Bart, hesitating.

"You forget, my boy, how difficult it is to carry stores over the plain. All these waggons have to go as it is, and my experience teaches me that the lighter an attacking party is the better, especially when it has to deal with Indians."

"And have these men ever fought with Indians?"

"A dozen—a score of times," replied the captain. "Ah! here is our friend the governor. Why, he is dressed up as if he meant to ride part of the way with us."

"Ah! captain! Well, my young Indian runner," said the governor, laughing, "are you ready for another skirmish?"

"Yes, sir, I'm ready now," said Bart promptly. "I can saddle up in five minutes."

"I shall be ready at sunset," said the captain. "My men are ready now."

"I've made up my mind to go with you," said the governor.

"You, sir?" cried Bart.

"Yes, my lad. I want to see the silver canyon and your mountain fortress. And besides, it seems to me that a brush with the Indians will do me good. I want them to have a severe lesson, for they are getting more daring in their encroachments every day. Can you make room for me?"

The captain expressed his delight, and Bart's eyes flashed as he felt that it was one more well-armed, active, fighting man; and when evening came, after an affectionate farewell, and amidst plenty of cheers from the swarthy mob of idlers, the well-mounted little party rode out along the road leading to the plains, with the lancers' accoutrements jingling, their lance-points gilded by the setting sun, and their black-and-yellow pennons fluttering in the pleasant evening breeze.

"At last," said Bart to himself, as he reined up and drew aside to see the gallant little array pass. "Oh! if we can only get one good chance at the cowardly demons! They won't hunt me now."

And in imagination he saw himself riding in the line of horsemen, going at full speed for a body of bloodthirsty Indians, and driving them helter-skelter like chaff before a storm.



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE LANCERS' LESSONS.

With Bart for a guide, the relief party made good progress, but they were, of course, kept back a great deal by the waggons, well horsed as they were. Alone the lancer troop could have gone rapidly over the ground, but the sight of hovering knots of Apaches appearing to right and left and in their rear, told that they were well watched, and that if the baggage was left for a few hours, a descent would be certain to follow.

In fact, several attempts were made as they got farther out into the plains to lure the lancers away from their stores, but Captain Miguel was too well versed in plain-fighting to be led astray.

"No," he said, "I have been bitten once. They'd get us miles away feigning attacks and leading us on, and at last, when we made ready for a charge, they'd break up and gallop in all directions, while, when we came back, tired out and savage, the waggons would have been rifled and their guards all slain. I think we'll get our stores safe at the silver canyon fort, and then, if the Apaches will show fight, why, we shall be there."

The days glided on, with plenty of alarms, for, from being harassed by the presence of about a dozen Indians, these increased and grew till there would be nearly a hundred hovering around and constantly on the watch to cut off any stragglers from the little camp.

They never succeeded, however, for the captain was too watchful. He never attempted any charges; but when the savages grew too daring, he gave a few short sharp orders, and half a dozen of the best marksmen dismounted and made such practice with their short rifles, that pony after pony went galloping riderless over the plain.

This checked the enemy, but after a few hours they would come on again, and it seemed as if messengers were sent far and wide, for the Indians grew in numbers, till at the time when half the distance was covered, it seemed as if at least four hundred were always hovering around in bands of twenty or forty, making dashes down as if they meant to ride through the camp or cut the body of lancers in two. For they would come on yelling and uttering derisive cries till pretty close, and then wheel round like a flock of birds and gallop off again into the plain.

"I'm saving it all up for them," said Captain Miguel, laughingly, as a low murmur of impatience under so much insult ran through his men. "Wait a bit, and they will not find us such cowards as they think."

"I should like your lancers to make one dash at them though, captain," said Bart one evening when, evidently growing more confident as their numbers increased, the Apaches had been more daring than usual, swooping down, riding round and round as if a ring of riderless horses were circling about the camp, for the savages hung along their horses so that only a leg and arm would be visible, while they kept up a desultory fire from beneath their horses' necks.

"Bah! let the miserable mosquitoes be," said the captain, contemptuously. "We have not much farther to go, I suppose."

"I hope to show you the mountain to-morrow," replied Bart.

"Then they can wait for their chastisement for another day or two. Come now, my excitable young friend, you think I have been rather quiet and tame with these wretches, don't you?"

Bart's face grew scarlet.

"Well, sir, yes, I do," he said, frankly.

"Well spoken," said the governor, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Yes," said Captain Miguel, "well spoken; but you are wrong, my boy. I have longed for days past to lead my men in a good dashing charge, and drive these savage animals back to their dens; but I am a soldier in command, and I have to think of my men as well as my own feelings. These fifty men are to me worth all the Indian nations, and I cannot spare one life, no, not one drop of blood, unless it is to give these creatures such a blow as will cow them and teach them to respect a civilised people, who ask nothing of them but to be left alone. Wait a little longer, my lad; the time has not yet come."

That night strong outposts were formed, for the Indians were about in great force; but no attack was made, and at daybreak, on a lovely morning, they were once more in motion, while, to Bart's great surprise, though he swept the plain in every direction, not an Indian was to be seen.

"What does that mean, think you?" said the governor, smiling.

"An ambush," replied Bart. "They are waiting for us somewhere."

"Right," exclaimed the Captain, carefully inspecting the plain; "but there is little chance of ambush here, the ground is too open, unless they await us on the other side of that rolling range of hills. You are right though, my lad; it is to take effect later on. This is to lull us into security; they have not gone far."

A couple of hours brought them to the foot of the low ridge, when scouts were sent forward; but they signalled with their lances that the coast was clear, and the party rode on till the top was reached, and spurring a little in advance of the troop in company with the captain and the governor, Bart reined up and pointed right away over the gleaming lake to where the mountain stood up like some huge keep built in the middle of the plain.

"There is the rock fortress," he cried.

"And where is the silver canyon?" said the governor, looking eagerly over the plain.

"Running east and west, sir, quite out of sight till you are at its edge, and passing close behind the mountain yonder."

"Forward, then," cried the captain; "we must be there to-night. Keep up well with the waggons, and—halt! Yes, I expected so; there are our friends away there in the distance. They will be down upon us before long, like so many swarms of bees."

The greatest caution was now observed, and they rode steadily on for a few miles farther, when Bart joyfully pointed out that the occupants of the rock fortress were still safe.

"How can you tell that?" said the governor, eagerly.

"By the flag, sir," said Bart. "There it is out upon the extreme right of the mountain. If the Indians had got the better of the Doctor's party, they would have torn it down."

"Or perhaps kept it up as a lure to entrap us," said the captain, smiling; "but I think you are right about that."

"What a splendid position for a city!" exclaimed the Governor, as they rode on towards where the waters of the lake gleamed brightly in the sun.

"Yes; a great town might be placed there," said the captain, thoughtfully; "but you would want some large barracks and a little army," he added with a smile, "to keep our friends there at a distance."

For, as they neared the mountain, it seemed ominously like a certainty that the savages now meant to make a tremendous onslaught upon the band, for they were steadily coming on in large numbers, as if to meet the new-comers before they could form a junction with the holders of the rock.

"I don't want to fight them if I can help it," said Captain Miguel, scanning the approaching Indians carefully as they advanced—"not until the waggons are in safety. If we do have to charge them, you drivers are all to make for the rock, so as to get under the cover of our friends' fire. That is, if it comes to a serious attack, but I do not think it will."

The watchfulness and care now exercised by their leader showed how well worthy he was of being placed in such a position, and the men, even to the governor, obeyed him without a word, though at times his orders seemed to run in opposition to their own ideas. For he seemed to be almost skirmishing from the Indians, instead of making a bold stand, and the result was that when, after a couple of hours, they came on in strength, their insolence increased with the seeming timidity of the relieving force.

"You underrated the numbers, young gentleman," said Captain Miguel at last, when the Apaches were in full force. "You said five hundred. I should say there are quite six, and as fine a body of well-mounted warriors as I have seen upon the plains."

"Well, Miguel," said the governor, "it seems to me that, unless you attack them, we shall all be swept into the lake."

"I don't think you will, sir," replied the captain, calmly; "they are only bragging now, many as they are; they do not mean to attack us yet."

Captain Miguel was right, for though the Apaches came yelling on, threatening first one flank and then the other, their object was only to goad the lancers into a charge before which they would have scattered, and then gone on leading the troops away. But the captain was not to be tricked in that manner; and calmly ignoring the badly aimed rifle-bullets, he made Bart lead, and getting the waggon-horses into a sharp trot, they made straight now for the fortress-gate.

"Steady, steady!" shouted the captain; "no stampeding. Every man in his place, and ready to turn when I cry Halt!—to fire, if needs be. Steady there!"

His words were needed, for once set in motion like this, and seeing safety so near, the waggon-drivers were eager to push on faster, and made gaps in the waggon-train; but they were checked by the lancers, who rode on either side, till at last faces began to appear on the various ledges and the zigzag path up the mountain, and a loud cheer was heard, telling that all was right.

Then came the fierce yelling of the Indians, who suddenly awoke to the fact that they had put off their attack too long, and that the waggon-train would escape them if they delayed much more.

Captain Miguel read the signs of their movements as if they were part of an open book, and with a cry of satisfaction he shouted out, "At last!"

Then to the waggon-drivers, "Forward there, forward, and wheel to your right under the rock. Then behind your waggons and horses for an earth-work, and fire when it is necessary. You, my lad, see to that, and get your friends to help."

This was shouted amidst the tramp of horses and the rattle and bumping of the waggons, while the Indians were coming on in force not half a mile away.

"Steady, steady!" shouted the captain, and then, almost imperceptibly, he drew his men away from the sides of the waggon-train, which passed thundering on towards the rock, while the lancers, as if by magic, formed into a compact body, and cantered off by fours towards the canyon.

"They've run; they've left us," yelled some of the drivers, in their Spanish patois. "Forward, or we shall be killed."

But they were wrong; for all at once the little body of lancers swung round and formed into a line, which came back over the same ground like a wall, that kept on increasing in speed till the horses literally raced over the level plain.

The Indians were at full gallop now, coming on like a cloud of horse, yelling furiously as they stood up in their stirrups and waved their lances, their course being such that the lancers would strike them, if they charged home, at an angle.

All at once there was a fluttering of pennons, and the lances of the little Mexican force dropped from the perpendicular to the level, the spear-points glistening like lightning in the evening sun.

This evolution startled the Apaches, some of whom began to draw rein, others rode over them, and the great cloud of horsemen began to exhibit signs of confusion. Some, however, charged on towards the waggons, and thus escaped the impact, as, with a hearty cheer and their horses at racing pace, the lancers dashed at, into, and over the swarm of Indians, driving their way right through, and seeming to take flight on the other side as if meaning to go right away.

Their course was strewed with Apaches and their ponies, but not a Mexican was left behind; and then, before the savages could recover from their astonishment, the gallant little band had wheeled round, and were coming back, trot—canter—gallop, once more at racing speed.

There was another tremendous impact, for there were so many of the savages that they could not avoid the charge, and once more the lancers rode right through them, leaving the ground strewn with dead and wounded men and ponies. Their riderless steeds added to the confusion, while no sooner were the lancers clear, and forming up once more a couple of hundred yards away, than a tremendous fire was opened from the rock fortress and the waggon-train, making men fall fast.

The lancers were soon in motion once more for their third charge, but this was only a feint, for the firing would have been fatal to friend as well as foe, there being no one to signal a stay. Still the Apaches did not know this, and having had two experiences—their first—of the charge of a body of heavily mounted, well-disciplined men, they were satisfied, and as the lancers began to canter, were in full flight over the plain, men and ponies dropping beneath the fire and from previously received lance-wounds, while the ground for a broad space was literally spotted with the injured and the dead.

"Oh, if I could have been with you!" cried Bart, riding up to the captain rifle in hand.

"Let soldiers do soldiers' work, my young friend," said the captain, bluntly. "You are excited now; perhaps you will think differently another time."



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

THE SILVER CITY IN THE PLAINS.

Bart did think differently when he cooled down, and, after a warm greeting from the Doctor, who praised his bravery and thanked him for bringing help, saw the dreary business of burying the fallen in those fierce charges; for he shuddered and thought of the horrors of such an occupation, even when the fights were in thorough self-defence.

Joses was full of excitement, and kept on shaking hands with the Beaver instead of with Bart.

"I knew he'd do it. I knew he'd do it," he kept on saying. "There arn't a braver lad nowhere, that I will say."

There was but little time for talking and congratulations, however, for the waggons had to be unloaded and camp formed for the lancers and Mexicans, the former being out in the plains driving in the Indian ponies that had not gone off with the Apaches, the result being that thirty were enclosed in the corral before dark, being some little compensation for the former loss.

Bart learned that night, when the captain and the governor were the guests of the Doctor, that beyond occasional alarms but little had gone on during his absence. The Indians had been there all the time, and his friends had always been in full expectation of an attack, night or day, but none had come.

The most serious threatening had been on the night when Bart set off, but the terrible storm had evidently stopped it, and the Doctor related how the rock had been struck by lightning, a large portion shattered, and the bodies of several Indians found there the next morning.

There was good watch set that night, not that there was much likelihood of the Indians returning, but to make sure; and then many hours were spent in rejoicing, for several of the adventurers had been giving way to despair, feeling that they had done wrong in coming, and were asking in dismay what was to become of them when the stores were exhausted.

"We can't eat silver," they had reproachfully said to the Doctor; and when he had reminded them how he had sent for help, they laughed him to scorn.

All murmurers were now silenced, and, light-hearted and joyous, the future of the silver canyon became the principal topic of conversation with all.

The next morning, as it was found that the Indians were still hovering about, Captain Miguel showed himself ready for any emergency. The Beaver and his men were at once mounted on the pick of the Indian ponies, and a start was made to meet the enemy.

So well was this expedition carried out, that, after a good deal of feinting and manoeuvring, the captain was enabled to charge home once more, scattering the Indians like chaff, and this time pursuing them to their temporary camp, with the result that the Apaches, thoroughly cowed by the attacks of these horsemen, who fought altogether like one man, continued their flight, and the whole of the horses and cattle, with many Indian ponies as well, were taken and driven back in triumph to the corral by the rocks.

This encounter with the Indians proved most effectual, for the portion of the nation to which they belonged had never before encountered disciplined troops; and so stern was the lesson they received, that, though predatory parties were seen from time to time, it was quite a year before any other serious encounter took place.

In the meantime, the governor had been so impressed with the value of the Doctor's discovery, that, without interfering in the slightest degree with his prospects, communications were at once opened up with Lerisco; more people were invited to come out, smelting furnaces were erected, the silver purified, and in less than six months a regular traffic had been established across the plains, over which mules laden with the precious metal, escorted by troops, were constantly going, and returning with stores for use in the mining town.

A town began to spring up rapidly, with warehouses and stores; for the mountain was no longer standing in solitary silence in the middle of the great plain. The hum of industry was ever to be heard; the picks of the miners were constantly at work; the great stamps that had been erected loudly pounded up the ore; and the nights that had been dark and lonely out there in the plains were now illumined, and watched with wonder by the roving Apaches, when the great silver furnaces glowed and roared as the precious metal was heated in the crucibles before being poured into the ingot-making moulds.

The growth of the place was marvellous, the canyon proving to be so rich in the finest kinds of silver, that the ore had but to be roughly torn out of the great rift that was first shown by the chief, and the profits were so enormous that Doctor Lascelles became as great a man in his way as the governor, while Bart, as his head officer and superintendent of the mine, had rule over quite a host.

Houses rose rapidly, many of them being of a most substantial kind, and in addition a large barrack was built for the accommodation of fifty men, who worked as miners, but had certain privileges besides for forming the troop of well-mounted lancers, whose duty it was to protect the mining town and the silver canyon from predatory bands of Apaches.

These lancers were raised and drilled by Captain Miguel, Bart being appointed their leader when he had grown to years of discretion—that is to say, of greater discretion than of old, and that was soon after Doctor Lascelles had said to him one day:

"Well, yes, Bart; you always have seemed to be like my son. I think it will be as well;" and, as a matter of course, that conversation related to Bart's marriage with Maude.

But, in spite of his prosperity and the constant demand for his services in connection with the mines and the increase of the town, Bart never forgot his delight in a ramble in the wilds; and whenever time allowed, and the Beaver and some of his followers had come in from some hunting expedition, there was just a hint to Joses, when before daybreak next morning a start was made either to hunt bison and prong-horn, the black-tailed deer in the woods at the foot of the mountain, or to fish in some part of the canyon. Unfortunately, though, the sparkling river became spoiled by degrees, owing to the enormous quantities of mine-refuse that ran in, poisoning the fish, and preventing them from coming anywhere near the mountain.

Still there were plenty to be had by those daring enough to risk an encounter with the Indians, and many were the excursions Bart enjoyed with Joses and the Beaver, both remaining his attached followers, though the latter used to look sadly at the change that had come over the land.

And truly it was a wondrous change; for, as years passed on, the town grew enormously—works sprang up with towering chimneys and furnaces, the former ever belching out their smoke; while of such importance did Silver Canyon City grow, and so great was the traffic, that mules and waggons could no longer do the work.

The result is easy to guess. There was a vast range of rolling plain to cross, a few deviations enabling the engineer, who surveyed the country with Apaches watching him, to avoid the mountains; and this being done, and capital abundant, a railway soon crept, like a sinuous serpent, from Lerisco to the mountain foot, along which panted and raced the heavily laden trains.

The Apaches scouted, and there was some little trouble with them at first, but they were punished pretty severely, though they took no lesson so deeply to heart as the one read their chief upon seeing the first train run along the rails.

Poor wretch! he had not much more sense than a bison; for he galloped his little pony right on to the line, and pressed forward to meet the engine after firing his rifle—he rode no more!

"Well, I dare say it's all right, Master Bart," said Joses one day; "everybody's getting rich and happy, and all the rest of it; but somehow I liked the good old times."

"Why, Joses?" said Bart.

"Because, you see, Master Bart, we seem to be so horrid safe now."

"Safe, Joses?"

"Yes, Master Bart," grumbled the old fellow; "there arn't no risks, no keeping watch o' nights, no feeling as it arn't likely that you'll ever see another morning, and it isn't exciting enough for me."

But then the Beaver came up with some news that made Joses' eyes sparkle.

"There's buffalo out on the far plain, captain," he said; "and I've seen sign of mountain sheep three days' journey up the canyon. Will the young chief Bart go?"

"That I will, Beaver," cried Bart. "To-morrow at daybreak."

"No; to-night," said the Beaver.

"That's the way," growled Joses. "Say yes, Master Bart."

Bart did say yes, as he generally would upon hearing such news as this— these excursions carrying him back to the old adventurous days, when, quite a lad, he joined in a hunt to find provision for the little camp.

Then Black Boy would be saddled, for the sturdy little cob never seemed to grow old, except that there were a few grey hairs in his black coat; provisions were prepared, ammunition packed, good-byes said, and for a few days Bart and his friends would be off into the wilderness, away from the bustle and toil always in progress now at the silver canyon.

THE END.