CHAPTER V. RIVAL DEER HUNTERS.

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“It don’t seem to be any use,” observed Broncho Billie, after they had called out invitingly several times, without getting any sign of a reply; nor seeing so much as the first indication that the unknown might be even then advancing in the direction of the spot where the tent stood.

“Looks like he didn’t care to make our acquaintance very much,” grunted Donald, still acting peevish, something out of the usual run with him.

“Oh! well, I reckon we can get along without knowing him,” remarked Adrian. “And perhaps after all that shot wasn’t meant to help us so much.”

“Eh? What d’ye mean by saying that?” asked Billie.

“Why, the fellow who fired may have meant to send in a random bullet, just to help scare us; but by mistake, perhaps it went the wrong way, and wounded one of his friends,” Adrian concluded; though from his manner it was apparent he himself had very little faith in this rather far-fetched theory.

Donald laughed.

“Oh! no, that don’t go down worth a cent, Adrian,” he went on to declare. “Why, I tell you there couldn’t have been one chance of it in ten thousand. Whoever it was fired that shot, he was quick as a flash on the trigger; and he had a good eye in the bargain. Not many men could have nailed that Injun in the moonlight, and when he just exposed himself a little bit, while crawling along from rock to rock.”

They decided that it was useless thinking of sleeping after such an experience. So they sat there in the shadows as time passed on, now and then exchanging low remarks, but always keeping the horses under observation; and their fingers were in close contact with the triggers of their quick-firing guns, so as to be ready for any sort of emergency that might arise.

But that only applied to two of the boys. For poor Billie, in spite of all his good intentions, could not keep awake to save his life; and during the balance of the night he enjoyed quite a number of lengthy naps all to himself. But between these he let the others know that he was awake by asking numerous questions; and secretly he hoped that neither of them noticed his regular breathing whenever he fell into a doze.

There are lots of just such fellows in this queer world of ours, filled with good intentions, but singularly weak when it comes to trying to put them into practice. Billie always meant well, and did the best he knew how. With him it was indeed a case of the “spirit being willing, but the flesh weak.”

There was no further alarm that night.

Why this should be so they could only hazard one of several guesses. The young adventure-loving bucks may have realized that they were up against a snag after having one of their number wounded in that strange way; and concluded that the possible reward was hardly worth the risk of their lives. Then again, since the shot came from a quarter behind them, they may have been seized with a sudden panic, to the effect that they were literally surrounded, and concluded that they had better make off while a chance remained.

Little the boys cared which reason it was that actuated the movements of the Apache braves who had threatened to give them all sorts of trouble.

“I’m going out there and take a little look around this morning, after the light gets better,” announced Donald, as they resurrected the fire, and Billie generously offered to do the cooking for breakfast for the crowd.

“I’d like to go along,” remarked Adrian.

“Hope now you ain’t thinking of trying to follow them fellows up, and leave me here all alone, to attend to breakfast, and guard the ponies at the same time,” ventured the anxious Billie, looking up quickly.

“We don’t expect to wander out of sight of the tent, make sure of that, Billie,” Adrian told him, understanding that the other must feel a little nervous about being left by himself which, under the circumstances, could hardly be wondered at.

“Oh! all right,” mumbled the fat boy; “I’ll keep my gun handy, and if anything comes along to bother me, why, I’ll let you know. But when you hear me give a cooee, just trot this way, because I’d hate to have to eat all this breakfast by myself.”

They assured him that there was no chance of such a dreadful catastrophe happening; and then, taking their guns with them, started off to scout around the spot where, according to Donald, the Indian had been at the time the shot came.

“See here, you can make out where he crawled along, for his toes made a track; and here’s where his knee knuckled down in the earth,” Adrian quickly remarked as they bent low over the ground, the better to pick up the signs.

“Right you are,” echoed Donald, coming to his side immediately; “and if ever you felt inclined to wonder whether I dreamed all that about the young buck over here, I reckon now you know it was real, don’t you, Ad?”

“I never doubted it in the beginning,” replied the other; “because I knew you weren’t given to such things. And then, besides, I heard both the shot, and that screech after it. What have you found now, Donald?”

“The plain imprint of a moccasin,” came from the other boy. “Looks like this is where he jumped to his feet after that shot came that winged him, for you can see that it heads back and away from our camp. Yes, and here are specks of dried blood on this rock.”

“Yes, and notice the smartness of them, would you, creeping up to leeward of our camp, so the horses couldn’t scent them?” Adrian went on to say. “You ought to know the mark of a moccasin pretty well, Donald; how about this one?”

“Made by an Apache squaw, for a cooky, I’d take my affidavy on that,” the ranchman’s son decided, after minutely examining the imprint; for different tribes have their own way of making elk-skin foot gear, so that it is not a difficult task, under ordinary circumstances, to recognize these peculiar characteristics.

A minute later and they stood on the spot where, according to Donald, the wounded brave had managed to straddle a pony, and make off with his friends.

“Just three of them, and all young bucks,” Donald decided, after he had carefully inspected the marks around them.

With that amount of knowledge they had to rest content; because it would have been foolish to think of following the would-be horse thieves, even had they not promised Billie not to go outside of sight of the tent.

Accordingly they turned back, and arrived at the camp just as the cook was getting his lips pursed up so as to give vent to a loud “cooee,” that was to serve as notice that breakfast was awaiting their attention; and how any mortal boy could linger after that, Billie would never be able to understand, judging others by his own standard.

After they had done full justice to the meal, they saddled up, and having placed the pack on the treacherous Bray, despite his serious objections and swelling of his body to prevent the bands from meeting, they again took up the line of march.

Donald had held several conversations with the one who knew the route to the Zuni village. He had also made a rough map of the trail, and this he verified on every possible occasion. Now it was by means of three queer-looking stones that stood like a tripod; again it was a row of stunted cedars that seemed as though they had originally been planted by some gardener of the wilds long years ago; and later on they were able to make sure they were on the right path by a most remarkable natural stone bridge that the trail passed under; all of which were objects of interest on his rude chart.

But they did not always keep up here on the sides of the mountain ranges. Presently their route trended down into the valley, where they found trees growing, and there was always a chance of striking game.

The boys had declared their willingness to go after the very first deer they might spy. Fresh venison would taste splendid, they assured each other. Even Billie stood ready to sacrifice his comfort and make a try, if the others failed to show an intention of taking up the burden.

When Billie first came out into the Southwest, bearing that fine new repeating Marlin firearm, he had never been much of a sportsman. But ambition seized him; and of late he had been doing wonderful stunts, even to shooting a grizzly bear that had threatened to make things interesting for him, unless he proceeded to turn the tables.

Hence Billie felt that he had a perfect right to inflate his chest, and look of some consequence whenever they talked of hunters’ exploits. He might be a clumsy hand with a good many things; but he did know how to ride, and also shoot.

It was Adrian who first sighted the black-tailed deer down there amidst the trees, and suggested that he take a try at the animal; so the others halted to rest the horses, while the young Nimrod crept away.

He knew all about stalking game, and his first thought was to work around, so as to approach from leeward, because in that way the deer would not be so apt to catch his scent as if he remained to windward.

So Adrian kept on creeping up, until he began to feel that he was certainly as close as any reasonable being would hope to get in order to make positively sure of his quarry.

After that all he had to do was to gently raise his head until he could see the feeding deer, and then taking a quick aim, let fly.

Even while he was glancing along the barrel of his rifle Adrian was half conscious of the fact that there was certainly something moving among the branches of a tree just to one side of his. But he had reached the point where his quivering finger was already pressing the trigger of his gun; and nothing could stop him then.

With the report he saw the deer give a leap into the air; but Adrian knew instinctively that he had done himself proud, for he was well versed in the ways of deer and understood that the animal had received a fatal wound. It would not run a dozen yards before falling dead, of that he felt positive, even as he started to get his rifle in readiness for another shot if necessary, as a true hunter always should.

As in a dream the boy saw some furry object shooting straight toward him, coming through the air like a meteor. That one glance was enough to tell him that he had stolen in ahead of a hungry panther that at the time was stalking the deer; and in a rage the aroused beast was now springing straight toward him, meaning to settle the question of hunting rights in that patch of woods then and there.

Adrian, more through instinct than anything else, dropped to his knees, and the leaping panther passed just over him, so that he even felt the wind of its flying body.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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