CHAPTER XIII.
A WILD RIDE.
It was morning now in the cañon. Heroes and heroines require sleep—in that they resemble other more commonplace individuals. Perhaps Blaze had slept some; but, wearied as he had been for some days with a constant round of dangerous adventures and hairbreadth escapes, at daylight he was wide awake, ready to face whatever dangers and difficulties the morning might bring. The woman was still as a statue. Her breath came quietly; her slumber was sweet. Blaze sat at a little distance from her, just by the horses, with his rifle close at hand, and looked at his fair charge. There was something in the face of Edith that seemed to be worth studying. As he thought how frail and nerveless she looked in the first pale light of the morning, he was afraid that he had his hands full.
"Blamed ef the little woman looks es though she'd stand carryin'. Kinder sorter 'pears of glass, like. Shouldn't wonder ef she'd break all up into small bits afore I git her a rod. She ain't put up as solid es a Blackfoot squaw. Es fur as the fakilty of transportin' goes, I'd kinder sooner she war. Cur'ous how tastes does differ! Howsomever, Bill Blaze will do his level best, an' ef luck don't run too all-fired rough it may be on the keerds to—blast it, yes! To what? Ef I ain't keerful the copper-skins'll take my ha'r, an' Dick Martin shoot me on sight. As fur that crazy Winkle, I dunno how soon he'll come crawlin' up an' lettin' drive on s'picion that I'm his man. There's a three-cornered state of affairs here, an' no mistake. It's a kinder blessin' maybe, after all, that the gal herself ain't likely to give much trouble." Then he gave a start. "She must 'a' knowed I war thinkin' on her, fur she's got her eyes wide open."
Edith had opened her eyes. She looked around for a moment with an air of quiet bewilderment. Then, apparently comprehending the status of things, she slowly raised her head from the rude pillow; something like the shadow of a blush flitted across her cheek, and she turned to the trapper.
"Well, sir, the morning is here; what do you propose doing?"
"I'd sooner hev Chep Carter draw a bead on me with his finger all ready on the trigger and him dead set on shootin', than answer that question. Blamed ef I know what to do."
"One of us must decide what is to be done, and that right quickly. If you think you can find a way to get beyond our enemies to a place of safety, at Back Load Clearing, or elsewhere, say so. If you think you can not, say so; and I'll try what my wits are worth in this emergency."
Blaze scratched his nose dubiously. It was not that he had not full confidence in himself, but rather it was an unexpectedly amusing thing for this woman, on whose frailty he had but lately been passing mental criticisms, to speak in such short, decisive and self-reliant tones.
"Mebbe the best thing would be to do nothin'. I've know'd persons as war in a box to git out by just sittin' still—an' I've know'd others, that war bound to keep movin', to run right slap onto the biggest kind o' a hornet's nest. In course, I kin find a way out. That's my name—jest what I war made fur. Only, don't push a willin' hoss. Let me roominate a bit."
"Last night you said, wait till morning. It's morning now, and having waited patiently I am anxious to be up and off. Think quickly, then; I'm not a friend to slow going."
"Wal, yer see, ther's several bearin's on this yere. We know whar we've bin, whar we are, but don't know whar we're goin', an' more particularly, who's wantin' to go with us. The end to this trail's a ticklish spot to travel over, that wants daylight or full moonlight to git safely through. Then, I've a couple ov chums somewhars in this region, that I can't leave without seein'. I don't feel afeard of the red-skins. My narves is es steady as a shootin'-match, and they's a sure sign. Ye wouldn't like to stay here a day longer, would ye?"
"I am on the side of safe boldness, whatever that may be. I wish to make my way from this region as quickly as may be convenient and safe!"
"Jest one minnit. This yere's how the land lays: Es I told yer, I've a couple of chums somewhars nigh. We was a-lookin' fur you, ye see, an' there's two other lots on the same biz, an' one on 'em is comin' up Straight Cañon ef there's any faith in signs. The other lot may be goin' on the same road, or we may stumble acrost 'em on our way down. Blest ef I don't wish I knowed which are on this trail an' which on t'other. Now, we'll take a bite o' somethin' to stay our in'ards, an' then be movin'. I hope I've cut it short."
The bite was soon taken, and taken almost in silence. From time to time Edith asked a question, and at length understood that Blaze was of the opinion that Martin and his men had followed in pursuit, and it was their approach that had alarmed the Indians. He told Edith, as briefly as it was in his nature to speak, that War Hawk had not ventured to bring his wished-for bride into the village of his tribe; that, in all probability, save the chance of a stray hunter, there was not an Indian outside of War Hawk's small party, within thirty miles of them. Their journey for the day, he thought, would be one of comparative safety. Their greatest danger lay away out upon the plain, beyond the opening of the cañon; and for that reason he was anxious to augment the strength of their party, even though he felt able, if his "luck held," to carry her through in safety by himself.
Having said this much, in his strange and rather uncouth way, the two sought saddle and Blaze led his charge down the cañon.
They rode along, at first, rapidly and in silence.
Before long Edith became satisfied that Blaze had been wise in thinking that they needed daylight to make their way over that part of their journey. The road, before so smooth, became rougher and rougher, until, finally it seemed to her that it would grow absolutely impassable. Here and there, to the side, she saw gulches and ravines that invited them by their evenness, but her guide resolutely withstood their wooings, and kept straight on. Around and over rocks, across dykes and gullies, up and down they went, till at last, meeting with obstacles more serious than any they had as yet encountered, they dismounted and toiled upward on foot.
"Ef we're spry now," encouraged Blaze, "half an hour more will take us over the roughest, an' then we'll hev level road, clean down to the mouth of the cañon."
Accustomed as Edith was to exertion and exercise, she was heartily glad when the most toilsome part of the road was passed, and, seated once more on Whirlwind, she could pursue her journey with more ease, though Blaze, still on foot, was piloting her carefully.
"Here we come," said he, as, turning a sharp corner, they found themselves at the beginning of a better path. Then in a different tone of voice, in a voice that partook of mingled excitement and uneasiness, he shouted: "The devil! Here he comes!" and, quick as light, firing his rifle, he sprung forward, while the steed of Edith, which had been giving hitherto unnoticed tokens of dissatisfaction, with a scream of fright, gave a mighty plunge, and then, in an uncontrollable frenzy, rushed like a thunderbolt away! As she was borne on in this mad career she heard the voice of Blaze, mingled with the snarl and roar of a wild beast, and, over her shoulder, for a moment, saw him closing in in mortal conflict with a deadly monarch of the mountains—an immense grizzly bear.
Only for a moment the scene flashed across her vision—just long enough to bring a cold chill of terror to her heart, then she was out of sight.
Crooked Cañon did not then belie its name. It swept away to the right with a long curve, and, as she was whirled, breathless and horror-stricken along it, she could catch no glimpse of what might happen to Blaze behind, or any new danger in the way ahead. She saw only the rocks and trees that, circling in, seemed as she advanced an ever-lifting barrier that changed with the shifting sameness and speed of a kaleidoscope. The ring of Whirlwind's hoofs was flung far ahead and behind; it echoed lonesomely in the cañon. And it fell upon listening ears!
A man had halted just in the shade of the scrubby trees that lined the edge of the cañon. He started up at the noise of flying feet, and, still shading himself, gazed in the direction of the sound. What he saw was a woman on a maddened horse, keeping her seat with the skill of a practiced rider, yet being borne with dreadful speed toward the jagged rocks and almost impassable precipices which he knew lay at the entrance, not so very far beyond. As she came nearer he looked again, and then sprung madly forward. Had he been a moment sooner he might have grasped the bridle of the animal. As it was, Whirlwind flitted past him like a dream; in front of him was only the opposite wall of the chasm.
He heard the sound of an exclamation; then the crack of a rifle, and felt a something on his cheek as though a hot iron had been laid there. His arms were dropped by his side; they raised again convulsively. He cast a look around, and, as by instinct, he saw on the crown of the bank before him Charles Endicott, with a smoking rifle and a sneer on his face.
When Blaze came rushing down Crooked Cañon, hard on the trail of Edith, his blood trickling from numberless sharp scratches, though yet strong and nervous, he came suddenly upon a man lying stretched out at full length upon the ground, his face resting upon one of the very tracks of Edith's flying steed. When he had turned him over he found that this man was Harry Winkle. It did not take long to examine his hurts. He was still alive, though partially stunned, and he saw at a glance there was a wound on the side of his face from which the blood was slowly oozing.
When he had noted this much, Winkle gathered himself up, rose to a sitting posture and looked around with a wild stare.
"Right there," he muttered, pointing up the slope, "I saw him—Endicott! And Edith she went down the cañon. Let me go, I must find her first."
He got to his feet, looked around, caught up his rifle, moved off with a step rapidly growing firmer.