CHAPTER X.

PREPARING FOR THE PURSUIT.

Just as day was breaking over prairie and mountain, a succession of ear-splitting shrieks issued from the wagon in which Miss Sillingsby had passed the night. They were so terrific and rapid that in a few minutes the whole camp was active, and the people hurrying toward the poor lady, and anxiously inquiring the cause of her alarming terror.

“Oh! Florence! Florence! Florence! I shall die! I shall die! Oh! what will Mr. Brandon say! I wish I was dead! I wish I was dead!”

It was a long time before she could be quieted, and then the dreadful truth became known. Florence Brandon was missing!

With the first shriek of Miss Sillingsby, a suspicion of what had occurred flashed through the minds of Lancaster and Wainwright with the instantaneousness of an electric thrill. They were sleeping together near one of the large camp fires, and they instantly sprang to their feet; but, instead of running to the wagon toward the shrieker, they hurried outside the encampment and the grove, and gazed around in search of some evidence of this excessive fright. It is scarcely necessary to say that they discovered nothing at all.

“Maybe it isn’t as bad as we imagine!” said the young hunter, addressing his elder companion, for the first time since they had risen from their sleep. “It may not be _that_.”

Lancaster shook his head.

“I’ve been a fool to go to sleep; we’ve been outwitted by that infernal Apache. I feel it in my bones. He has stolen in on her while we were asleep and walked off with that critter.”

“But let us find out the truth from Miss Sillingsby.”

“I ’spose we may as well, ’though I know what it is,” muttered the trapper, as he sullenly complied with the request.

Miss Sillingsby, in answer to the clamorous demands made upon her, finally let the truth ooze out. Near the middle of the night, as she imagined, she dreamed of seeing a terrible Indian crawl into the back part of the wagon and carry off her ward. It was so dark that she could only catch a glimpse of him as he came in and went out.

She woke up with a conviction that her dream was true; and now that she was awake long enough, she was satisfied that it was no dream at all, but an actual occurrence that had taken place before her eyes. Hence her excitement.

Then did the cheeks of the females blanch with terror. Florence Brandon spirited away in the night by an Apache Indian! The very thought was enough to fill one with shuddering terror.

“Yes, she is gone,” exclaimed Miss Sillingsby, wringing her hands and threatening to go into hysterics again. “She is gone, and what is to become of me and her poor father?”

“Yes, by jingo!” wailed Leonidas Swipes, darting hither and thither and fairly dancing in excitement to the tune of the lamentations around him. “What’s to become of the Fort Mifflin Institute for the Education of the Youths of Both Sexes? Gone up, and my hopes and fortunes dashed to the ground; jest as they always get dashed when they are about to bud and blossom; I swan if they don’t.”

“See here, my man,” called out Fred Wainwright, “you acted as sentinel last night—didn’t you!”

“I believe—come to think, I am almost sure I did.”

“And you took this wagon of Miss Brandon’s under your special charge, as you were satisfied that was the only way of making her safe; you did this, didn’t you?”

“I believe—come to think I s’pect I did do something like that.”

“Then what kind of a sentinel are you?” demanded the young hunter, contemptuously, “to allow an Indian to come in here at night and steal her away.”

“By jingo, I don’t understand it; I swan if I do; I must have been—ah—have been—”

“Asleep of course.”

“No, no, oh no; I was abstracted at the time—absorbed in the investigation of some great truth which made me oblivious, as it were, to what else was going on around me.”

By this time the first fever of excitement was over, and the people began to converse rationally upon the all-absorbing subject, while the trappers occupied themselves in searching through the camp for some evidence of the direction taken by the audacious Apache with his prize.

When it was stated that the entire grove had been traversed back and forth by the men and animals, it will be seen that this was about impossible, even when all three of the keen-eyed hunters set themselves to work at the task, passing back and forth and scrutinizing every foot of ground.

But upon the outside of the encampment, beyond the range of the travel by the whites, Lancaster detected the print of a moccasin in the dusty earth. He followed it for twenty yards out upon the prairie, and then looking up, saw that it led directly toward a clump of trees about a quarter of a mile distant, and along the branches of the creek on which they were encamped—the stream making a sharp bend just above where the train halted.

“We’ll find something there,” said the old hunter, pointing toward the tree, “the snip has made for that point.”

“And left it as soon as he reached it.”

“I s’pose so; but he wouldn’t have gone there, if it wasn’t for something particular. Let’s go and see.”

The hunter hurried over the prairie, and in a few minutes reached the trees. Here, upon looking down at the ground, they were rewarded with another sight of the trail, proving the correctness of the conclusion at which Lancaster had jumped.

“And we’ll soon see what it all means,” he said, as he passed in among the trees.

It required but a moment indeed; a sudden “Ah!” was heard from the old hunter and he pointed down to the ground.

“Do you see that?”

“Horse tracks, I believe.”

“Yes, that tells the whole story; the scamp had his horse fastened among the trees, and has toted the gal here as fast as he could travel, mounted his critter and then put.”

“Shall we follow any further?”

“No; I don’t see as there is any use just now, as we haint got our horses; we’ll go back to camp and let ’em know what we’ve learned.”

Fred Wainwright all this time was in a fever of excitement, although he had made superhuman efforts to conceal it from his practical companion thus far; but he began to be seriously alarmed at the coolness and indifference which he manifested.

“Ward,” said he, endeavoring to speak in a matter-of-fact tone, “we’re going to follow these scamps, are we not?”

“I’ll promise you they’ll get such a chase as they never dreamed of; but you know enough to understand it’s going to be work and not play. That Apache having got his hands upon the gal, won’t let her go in a hurry.”

“You know the Apaches are an ugly set of people. How do you suppose they will treat her?”

“Just as the folks out east would treat General Washington’s mother, if she was alive and should go through the country. Cherouka wants to make her his squaw, and the old fool will try and win her love by kindness. No; we may take a week to capture her in and bring her back just as unharmed and free from insult as she was before she heard of Cherouka.”

“O heavens! Ward, you cannot imagine how much you have relieved me.”

“I seed you was kinder worked over it, though your’ne been trying mighty hard to keep it from me,” replied Lancaster with a sly grin.

“Of course; who is there in our whole party that doesn’t feel terrible over it?”

“Y—a—s, I know, but I reckon you feel a little terribler than the rest.”

“I don’t know as I do.”

“But I do though; don’t try to play any of your foriniky tricks on me, Fred; I’m an old enough coon to know what it all means.”

“If that is the case where is the use of any reference being made to it, by either you or me?” asked Wainwright.

Lancaster and Wainwright made their way back to camp, where they had found the excitement among the females had increased, while upon the men it had settled into a determination, that if it were possible for mortal man to rescue the fair captive, it should be done. Not a man among them all but was ready and anxious to join in the pursuit.

Time was precious, the guide, who from his position, naturally fell into that of a guide in other matters, determined to organize the pursuit at once. It would be madness to think of allowing all the men or a majority to undertake the business, as the train was in a dangerous part of the country, and such a proceeding would invite their destruction by the thieving hordes who would be very quick to discover their defenceless condition, and take advantage of it.

Ten men well mounted and armed were all he needed, and he selected these at once. It is hardly necessary to say that himself and Wainwright were the first two. Harling, it was concluded best, to leave with the train, where his knowledge and watchfulness would detect the very first opinion. Mr. Templeton and seven others, whose appearance struck the trapper as being favorable, were then selected—he expressing the belief that each of them possessed the requisite amount of “grit” for the business before them.

Leonidas Swipes insisted that he should accompany the expedition. It may have been that he felt an obligation in the matter, thus to seek to repair, in so far as possible, his shame or rather remissness as a sentinel; or, it may be, that his shrewd mind saw a slight opportunity of gaining some knowledge of the five thousand and odd sheep which had been so unceremoniously taken from him.

But Lancaster would not count him as an effective man, and as it came about that the Yankee made the eleventh or odd man, a matter which created much merriment, but no ill will upon the individual concerned.

Mr. Bonfield remained with the emigrant train. At the advice of the guide he agreed to throw up some temporary fortifications, to insure safety in case of attack. It was not at all improbable that the eleven men would be seen as they rode away, by the sharp eye of some prowling Indians, who might deem the occasion just the one, in which to make an attack on the remaining ones in the hope of securing plunder, and perhaps destroying the whole party. The loss of their animals would be an irreparable one just as they were entering that mighty wall of rocks and chasms which separate California from the territories, where every ounce of their animal strength would be needed.

Mr. Bonfield’s intention was to make a sort of “outer wall” to inclose the entire encampment, and from behind which, in case of attack, he and his men could rain their bullets upon the redskins, without fear of return.

The eleven men were mounted on the fleetest and best animals that could be selected from the party, and the sun was hardly above the horizon, when they rode forth in their attempt to rescue Miss Florence Brandon from the hands of Cherouka, the Apache chief.