CHAPTER VIII.

THE LAST HOPE.

It was the morning of the fourth day since the Indians had discovered the cave. The beleaguered whites had repeatedly endeavored to reach the opening in the last cavern, and had dug a tunnel in two directions, but were stopped both times after going a short distance by immense rocks. Their food was very nearly consumed, in spite of the fact that they had placed themselves on limited rations.

Vic, Wild Nat and Scip were prowling about the various rooms, endeavoring for the hundredth time, to discover some mode of escape, while in the outer cavern Marion and Kent, sat engaged in conversation.

“I could meet death bravely for myself,” Kent was saying, “but for you to die in such a fearful manner, away in this wilderness—oh, my darling, it is so hard!”

Marion looked up with a brave smile.

“Death will not seem hard, knowing that you love me,” she said, simply. “We will go together.”

He bent and kissed her.

“God bless you!” he said.

Silence fell between them then, broken by the entrance of Wild Nat, followed by the others. The tall form of the old hunter looked taller and more lank than ever, as he strode into the room and sat down with a sort of snort.

“This ’ere thin’ is gittin’ ruther tiresome,” he said, giving his speech emphasis by a series of nods. “I’ll be teetotally flumbustercated ’fore very long. _Wouldn’t_ I jist like tew git a chance at them yaller-skinned coots out yonder! I’ll bet my jack-knife ag’in a chunk of lead, thet they’d wish they’d died years ago! Fact is,” went on the hunter, with a benignant grin, “I don’t believe it agrees with me tew not have ’nough tew eat. Some folks may git along ’ithout grub, but I sw’ar I can’t! My constertution ain’t adapted, so tew speak, tew livin’ on air. It ain’t, I vum!”

“Nor me nuther,” said Scip, lugubriously. “I hain’t had a square meal in four days. I can’t live on nuffin, an’ dar’s no use in t’inkin’ ob it. Ef I can’t hab suffin eatable ’fore long I shell be dwindled away to a skilleton. I wished I’d nebber come West.”

“We have heard nothing of the Indians since day before yesterday,” said Kent. “Is it not possible that they may have left?”

“Humph!” said Vic, who sat near; “ef you knowed ’em as well as I dew, ye wouldn’t think of sich a thing. They are layin’ low, in hopes thet we’ll be fools enough tew think they’re gone, an’ come out. A tomahawk waits for the fust man thet shows his head.”

Scip noticed Kent’s remark, but did not hear Vic’s reply, and appeared to be busily considering the chances of such a thing.

“Like ’nough dey have gone,” he said, after a little; “’twouldn’t do no hurt to see.”

“Wal,” said Vic, “s’posen ye go out an’ see.”

“Oh Lor’!” ejaculated Scip, “I can’t. S’pose dey was dar, whar’d I be? You g’long!”

“Wal,” said Vic, “I’m about caved in for want of some grub, an’ we are all in the same fix. I’m a-goin’ tew take jist one more tower of this honeycomb, an’ see ef I can’t find a hole out. Ef I can’t, we’ll begin another tunnel. We won’t stop tryin’; it’s root hog or die.”

“It is useless to try to find an opening,” remarked Kent. “We have searched over and again, and had there been one we must have found it.”

Vic took a survey of the cave, however, as he had done a dozen times before, and without success.

“Now, then,” he said, “let’s dig another tunnel. It’s doubtful, but thar’s a chance for success. Let’s begin here.”

It was with hope at a very low ebb that the men began the work. Their success had been so poor hitherto, that they were beginning to despair. One man worked at a time, and in order to advance as rapidly as possible they changed every twenty minutes, and the digger fell back to help to remove the dirt. For instance, Vic dug, pushing the dirt a little behind him. Scip came next, who pushed the dirt still further back to Kent, who advanced it to Wild Nat, whose business it was to keep the mouth of the hole clear. In this way they progressed rapidly, and in four hours had tunneled the distance of eighteen feet. Hope now began to rise. The soil was quite easily removed with their knives, and they had as yet experienced no difficulty with stones.

“We’re gittin’ along purty well,” remarked Wild Nat, as he industriously plunged his knife in the soil. “At this rate— Hello!”

His knife had struck something that sounded like stone. A gloom fell on the little party at the sound. Without a word the trapper continued his work, and in a moment the cause stood revealed. A huge rock—how large it was impossible to tell—obstructed the tunnel, and effectually cut off all hope in that direction. Dead silence reigned for a moment; then:

“Couldn’t we dig round it?” suggested Kent, eagerly.

“Not much use to try,” said Vic.

“We’ll see,” said Wild Nat.

They fell to work with a will. Fifteen minutes’ effort proved that it was impossible, and the work was abandoned. With sinking hearts the men returned to the cave to relate to the waiting Marion the result of their undertaking.

“Wal, what next?” said Vic, throwing himself at full length on the cave-floor.

No one replied. “Next” looked very much like starvation to all. Silence reigned for some time, then Kent said:

“I propose that we take some method to find out if the Indians are really there yet.”

“In course they be,” said Wild Nat; “but it’ll do no hurt tew see.”

There was a stout stick in the cave about six feet in length. Taking this, the old trapper walked into the passageway.

“Stand behind me, Vic, and be reddy to shoot the first critter ye see. Stand out of sight, the rest of ye.”

The trapper then advanced, closely followed by Vic, till he could reach the entrance by means of the pole he held. Then he took off his cap and hung it on the end of the stick, and pushed gently against the stone. It gave way after a moment, and the trapper pushed his pole forward till the top of the cap was in sight from outside. Silence followed, and he advanced it a few inches. Instantly a wild whoop rent the air, and half a dozen tomahawks were buried in the cap, as the savages dashed forward to the opening. One of the Indians exposed his person to view, and instantly Vic sent a bullet into him. The howl that followed proved that the wound was fatal. Wild Nat instantly drew back his stick, and the half-raised stone fell back to its place, while the two trappers backed into the cave.

“That’s over,” said Vic, “an’ jist as I told ye. Thar’s one red-skin less tew dance over our bodies, an’ thet’s one comfort.”

“I’m clean dun starved,” said Scip, after a pause, with a sidelong glance toward the little pile of dried buffalo-meat, all that remained of their provisions.

“Wal,” said Wild Nat, “so be we all, an’ as it’s now purty near night, I don’t know but we mought as well finish the meat. We may as well eat while thar’s vittals, as thar’s only ’nough for one meal anyway, an’ not half a one at thet. Fall to!”

The half-starved party needed no second bidding, and in a short time the last morsel had vanished.

“Marion,” said Vic, “yer as near starved as eny of us, an’ ye don’t say a word. Yer the bravest gal I ever see’d.”

“No use in complaining, when it’s unavoidable,” she said, with a faint smile.

“Wal,” said Wild Nat, “I’ve got one more idee. Ef thet fails, then good-by tew Betsey. Our epertaphs is writ!”

“What’s the thin’ tew be done?” asked Vic, while the others listened eagerly for the reply.

“Ye all know thet hole in the furder cave? Wal, we’ve tried tew reach it an’ couldn’t. Now, in place of rocks an’ thin’s to stan’ on, which we hain’t got, only ’nough in all tew reach ’bout seven feet, tharfore I purpose tew let ’em reach thet fur, an’ thet two of us, Vic an’ I, as we’re tallest, stan’ on thar, an’ one of ye climb up on us an’ reach thet hole. It kin be done, an’ it shell.”

“And if we could get out there, no more of us than two could go, and Marion not at all,” said Kent.

“In course not, but, ef it goes to the outer world, I’ll go an’ git some game, an’ throw in for ye tew eat while I’m gone, an’ then I’ll p’int for somewhar arter help, ef I can’t dew no better. But ef I kin git out thar I’ll soon find a way tew git ye all out. Make a bark ladder or something like it, tew climb on. Whar thar’s a will thar’s a way. It only remains tew be seen ef one of us kin git out. So no more jabber till thet’s decided.”

Wild Nat and Scip repaired to the spot, leaving Kent to watch, lest the Indians should suddenly make a dash into the cave, of which, however, there was little danger.

The men first piled up all the rocks and stones they could find in the cavern, and when completed the platform was between seven and eight feet high.

“Now then, Scip,” said Wild Nat, “ye must climb on our shoulders. Think ye kin do it?”

“Guess so,” responded the negro; “used to be great hand to shin up de trees arter coons.”

The two trappers placed themselves side by side, in a convenient position, and, though Nathan was considerably taller than Vic, an extra stone under the latter’s feet made up the deficiency. Scip was an expert climber, and he soon stood upright on their shoulders, whence he could reach the hole.

“Now ’vestigate, an’ be quick,” said Wild Nat, as the negro straightened himself up.

Scip ran his arm into the dark hole the whole length without touching any thing. Then, having been given the torch, he turned it so that the light should reveal the interior of the passage. It seemed to be a long one—how long it was impossible to say, since it extended beyond sight; but narrow, so very narrow after the first two feet as to render it impossible for a person to pass through.

Scip related these facts to the others, who were considerably discouraged by his report.

“Is thar any light at the other end?” asked Vic.

“Not dat I can see,” replied Scip; “it’s jist as dark as a pocket.”

“Try yer knife an’ see ef the rock can be cut,” said Wild Nat.

“Can’t make no ’pression on it,” was the answer.

“Wal, git down then. _That’s_ all bu’sted.”

Scip turned to descend, but, somehow, in the act he lost his footing and rolled heavily down, striking the wall a hard thump with his head, and bringing up on the floor of the cave.

“Golly,” he muttered, rising to his feet, and rubbing himself dolefully, “dat ar’ war a hard tumble. Like to broke my skull.”

Wild Nat paid no attention to the negro’s complaints. He was looking at the wall with a new idea. Jerking out his tomahawk he hit the wall several times, and then jumped off the platform with a subdued yell.

“Wagh!” he ejaculated, “thet are’s wuth a fortune. Whoop!”

“What’s up?” queried Vic, who had been looking at Scip, and had not noticed Nathan’s maneuver.

“Suthin’ wuth while,” responded the trapper; “jest hear this, will ye?” and he tapped the wall a second time.

“Varmints!” ejaculated Vic, “it’s holler!”

“In course it is, an’ thar’s a cave t’other side. Maybe thar’s an openin’ out on’t tew. Ye see, the wall is limestone, I s’pose. What d’ye think o’ thet?”

“Whar’s my knife?” replied Vic, rather irrelevantly. “Let’s _dig_.”

All three fell to work resolutely. The limestone crumbled away under their knives slowly but surely; slowly but surely the cavity grew, till in fifteen minutes the point of Vic’s knife went through with a plunge to the other side. This was a fresh stimulus, and the knives flew fast. In a few moments, during which no one spoke, an opening sufficiently large to admit a man’s head was made; then Wild Nat took the torch and thrust it through the hole, and by its light anxiously surveyed the cavity. It was a room, about fifteen feet in length, and of an oval shape. The trapper only waited to take a hasty survey of the place, and then fell to work again with renewed energy. In fifteen minutes more, under their united efforts, the hole was sufficiently large to allow them to pass through.

“We won’t bother to tell Kent and the little ’un, till we see ef our molasses ain’t all soap,” said Wild Nat, as he crawled into the room, followed by the others. Seeing that there was an outlet to the room, the explorers did not wait to examine it, but hurried forward into the passage. It was a narrow, winding corridor, with damp, moldy walls, which terminated in a series of small caves opening one into the other by means of small openings at a little distance from the floor.

The party gave a brief glance to each successive room as they passed through, and soon reached the fifth and last one of the series. Here they found another narrow passage, differing from the other only in the fact that they appeared to be steadily ascending.

“Best tew keep purty still,” said Vic, in reply to some remark of Scip’s; “thar’s no knowin’ how clus we may be tew the painted devils outside. Ef we’re only fortunate enough tew— Varmints, thar’s a glimmer of daylight!”

The little party hurried forward, keeping as still as possible, and soon reached the opening. A faint ray, only, of light entered, and Vic dropped beside the hole, and placing his head as near as possible, listened attentively.

“Silent as the grave,” he said, after a moment. “I guess we’re quite a ways from the mouth of t’other cave.”

He reached out his hand and tore away the weeds and stones that obstructed the way, and then cautiously advanced his head until he could see into the world beyond.

Twilight was settling down, but it was still light enough to enable him to see that they were much further up the hill than the entrance to the other cave, and some distance to the left of it. He could not see the Indians at the mouth of the cave, but could hear their voices. Taking a closer look of the place, he recognized it, and knew they were about a hundred yards from the other cave mouth; Deep Creek flowed tranquilly along about forty feet below him.

“We’re all right,” he whispered, as he drew back and Wild Nat took his place. “As soon as it’s dark we’ll bid adoo to this hole, an’ turn toes for Fort Laramie. We’ll hev tew keep powerful still, an’ work our passage with shut-off steam, or we’ll hev a score of red devils arter us in jest no time.”

“Look here,” said Nat, as he concluded his survey, “ye see it’s gittin’ dark fast. In half an hour it’ll be as dark as a pocket. Tharfore ye go back an’ tell Kent an’ Marion, an’ git reddy tew tramp, an’ I’ll stay here, an’ purty shortly go out to the gulch whar the animiles war hid, an’ git them ef the reds hasn’t made off with ’em.”

“Tain’t likely the hosses is disturbed, as the reds wouldn’t take ’em till they cl’ared the kitchen for good, an’ they hain’t done thet yit.”

“Ye know whar that all-fired big cottonwood leans over the creek?” added Wild Nat. “Wal, steer for thar as soon as it’s dark. I won’t be fur off. Signal, owl’s hoot.”

Vic nodded, and started for the first cave, followed by Scip.