“ON to the gorge!” exclaimed Scarred Eagle, hurriedly. And forthwith, all were gliding back in that direction.
A few minutes brought them into the denser section of woods beside the opening. Here they halted and listened, but heard as yet no sound of pursuit.
Mace hurriedly explained what had taken place, together with the fact revealed by the Indian girl, that Brom was a prisoner.
“What!” said Scarred Eagle, hoarsely. “The boy took?” The revelation of Hulet’s treachery and death was as nothing to this.
“Thar’s no doubt on’t, Rhodan,” replied Mace. “He dud ’is arrant at the fort an’ got nabbed in the neighborhood of the village on his way back.”
At this moment, Goodbrand, who had remained in the rear, glided up.
“Bes’ go!” he whispered. “Comin’ ag’in, an’ more from village, guess!”
“You that kin, find the body of poor Hank an’ hide it from their devilish ways!” said Scarred Eagle.
This was soon done. The friendly Miami kept somewhat in the rear of the rest, who pressed cautiously on toward the gorge.
For some time not even a whisper was uttered. A terrible anxiety filled the heart of Scarred Eagle. All knew the cause was Brom Vail. But they knew a present attempt to reach the village and endeavor to release the latter, would be worse than useless. It would be an extremely dangerous undertaking under far more favorable circumstances. But one thought gave a ray of hope, and that was what the Indian girl had promised. But would she alone be able to effect Brom’s release?
They were nearing the retreat when Scarred Eagle suddenly halted and listened anxiously.
“Goodbrand orter j’ined us by this time,” he said. “But thar’s one thing, men. Whatever news he may bring of the mad devils, we must git close to their camp afore mornin’ ef the boy’s tu be saved. Mebbe he kain’t be. It’ll be an oncommon job to undertake, an’ I ask no man tu go that ain’t parfictly willin’.”
“’Tain’t a fair way o’ puttin’ it!” said Mace. “Ye’d orter know thar ain’t a man of us thet won’t stan’ by ye an’ him till the last!” This resolve was echoed by the rest.
“I knowed it, men, I knowed it!” said Scarred Eagle, hopefully. “Our mission as scouts is done, mostly. The major at the fort’s got his cue, an’ thar’s nothin’ but to wait till Bradstreet comes up, when a sally kin be made. Ay, here’s Goodbrand!”
The latter glided up with the news that quite a reinforcement had arrived from the direction of the Indian village. Some of these were seeking out their dead warriors; others were lurking in the woods near the scene of conflict.
“No danger come here afore light,” added Goodbrand. “They keep big watch an’ look for trail in mornin’!”
“Afore then, we’ll make indivors to help a boy that’s never flinched a duty on account of danger,” said Rhodan. “We’ll git to the gorge fust, an’ consider our plans.”
The mouth of this was soon reached. They stole cautiously up to the bivouac, guided only by sense of touch and a previous knowledge of the place. The darkness of midnight reigned. Goodbrand remained a short distance away, as sentinel. The rest sought for the victim of Hulet’s treachery; but for some time the search was vain. At last it was found and brought into a recess in the cliff where a torch had been lit. Exclamations of horror burst from the rangers as the light shone upon the body. It told a fearful story better than words could have done.
The victim had been mangled about the head, breast and arms by some wild beast—a panther, probably. It was well known this animal never preys upon a dead body! The inference was horrible! The animal must have hovered near, and, attracted by the smell of blood, attacked the unfortunate man while the latter was dying. His rifle was found discharged, and he had evidently made one desperate effort to keep the monster at bay!
The men looked at each other with faces blanched.
“The curse of every honest man light on the head of the wretch that caused this!” said Scarred Eagle, breathing hard. “But—ay, the wretch has gone to his account, an’ ’ll be judged accordin’ to his deeds. Take the body out, men, an’ place it where it’ll never be distarbed.”
They obeyed, with sad and gloomy feelings. The body was placed in one of the nooks with which the sides of the cliff abounded. This being securely closed, the midnight burial was over.
The rangers stood consulting with their leader, when suddenly Goodbrand came in.
“They comin’—find!” he said, excitedly. “We bes’ go quick, ’fore surround!”
They immediately glided out and passed down to the mouth of the gorge. Then, turning to the right, they struck into a narrow by-path leading to the rear of the high cliffs.
“Now, Goodbrand,” said Scarred Eagle, pausing, “tell us the lay o’ the denger that we may use our wits to the purpus.”
“This right way!” was the other’s whispered reply. “They comin’ from way we came. Very slow come, so’s take sure.”
“Hish!” interrupted Scarred Eagle. “We’re surrounded now! Drop close, every man, an’ not stir for your lives!”
As he gave this order, he glided from their midst directly back toward the gorge. Perhaps not more than two of the men imagined his object. But not one of them moved or even whispered.
Hardly a minute passed before he was again beside them. Meantime they had heard abundant evidence that the gorge retreat was indeed surrounded, though not closely.
“The bloody-minded whelps ar’ drawin’ the circle closer,” said Scarred Eagle. “They’ll see a torch prisently, which I’ve took good care to fix in the rocks. It’s a great p’int that they think they ain’t suspected here. The light’ll burn out afore half an hour. When it does, they’ll think it’s snatched away by our hands. They won’t dare to enter the gorge afore light, thinkin’ their enemy is prepared. But they’ll watch about here till then. Ef we k’n git clear ’ithout a tussle, our chance at the village ’ll be all that a reasonable man orter expect. Ye see how much depends.”
A moment later the men were stealing forward, each one by himself. Not a dry leaf rustled under a hand or knee; not a bush was caused to vibrate; even their breaths were drawn slowly as their bodies were. The least accident would prove fatal, and all realized it.
Twenty minutes passed, as time is counted; but, to each of the men, it seemed an hour. Then they found themselves together near a brook whose waters caught the glimmer of the starlight. And as yet they had not moved more than fifty yards. At this moment several Indian signals were heard. As by magic the rangers, who had partly risen, sunk to the ground.
It was well they did so in time. Between them and the space along the banks of the brook, several figures glided by and disappeared in the gloom above. One passed so near, they might have touched him.
They did not venture to move again for several minutes. Scarred Eagle was the first to set the example—all following him silently. They had gone but a short distance further when a chorus of triumphant signal-shouts came from the vicinity of the gorge.
“That tells it,” said Scarred Eagle, pausing. “The skunks think they’ve got us caged, an’ now we must work fast. Ar’ ye sure ye killed the tretor, Mace?”
The sudden question made the men glance into each other’s faces in surprise.
“The blow I gin ’im orter done it,” answered Mace, with a savage imprecation. “I didn’t hev any time ter look close.”
“I’m ’fear’d ye didn’t,” said the veteran scout. “Least wise, he must ’a’ lived long enough ter told some on ’em whar our bivouac was. But, thar’s no time ter talk of that, now. We must siperate. ’Tain’t more’n half a mile to the p’int of shore where the canoe’s hid. You, Goodbrand, take Hill and Revel with ye, an’ bring the canoe ter the place ye know of nigh the village. Me an’ Mace’ll go stret through an’ git thar long enough afore ye to see what’s to be done. Hicks an’ Tim’ll stay behind an—”
“Divil a fut behint!” interrupted the Irishman, stoutly. “No, be gobs! Phat’ll I stay behint for? I’ll take me share in the worst as well as the best, so!”
“Ef by the wust ye mean denger, ye’ll find enough o’ that, both on ye,” said Scarred Eagle. “This hyur neighboorhood ’ll be thoroughly s’arched by mornin’. Ef, in the course of two hours after the rest are gone, you an’ Hicks sh’u’d be convinced these devils war goin’ back toward the village, it’ll be y’ur part ter draw ’em back, so’s to give us a better chance to work for the boy.”
“A chance, is it? Pwhat c’u’d the two of us alone do?”
“I needn’t say thar’s no time to lose, Tim,” said the other, “an’ I trust ye won’t hender us.”
“I’ll sthay,” said Tim, spitefully. “Ownly—look now: suppose yees all git in dthe lurch! S’posin’ yees all fail! Dthat’s it—how are we to know?”
“By comin’ to a place that I’ve told Hicks of,” said Scarred Eagle. “We’ll have the boy out o’ thar clutches afore three hours, I hope. Keep a sharp look-out about here. Ef ye should ondertake to draw ’em after ye, take good care ye don’t git nabbed y’urselves. You’ll find y’ur task dengerous enough.”
Goodbrand and his two companions glided away in the gloom toward the point of shore where lay the hidden canoe. Scarred Eagle and Mace stood a few moments listening, till sure that Hicks and the Irishman were well off toward a spot where they had been directed to take a position to wait and watch. Then they themselves started on their perilous mission to the Indian village.