“We must keep them at a distance,” said Thurstane.
“You bet! The first Injun that comes nigh us. I’ll shute him. They mustn’t be ‘lowed to git among us. First you know you’d hear a yell, an’ find yourself speared in the back. An’ them that’s speared right off is the lucky ones.”
“Not one of us must fall into their hands,” muttered the officer, thinking of Clara.
“Cap, that’s so,” returned Texas grimly. “When I fight Injuns, I never empty my revolver. I keep one barl for myself. You’d better do the same. Furthermore, thar oughter be somebody detailed to shute the women folks when it comes to the last pinch. I say this as a friend.”
As a friend! It was the utmost stretch of Texas Smith’s humanity and sympathy. Obviously the fellow had a soft side to him.
The fact is that he had taken a fancy to Thurstane since he had learned his fighting qualities, and would rather have done him a favor than murder him. At all events his hatred to “Injuns” was such that he wanted the lieutenant to kill a great many of them before his own turn came.
“So you think we’ll have a tough job of it?” inferred Ralph.
“Cap, we ain’t so many as we was. An’ if Manga Colorada comes up, thar’ll be a pile of red-skins. It may be they’ll outlast us; an’ so I say as a friend, save one shot; save it for yourself, Cap.”
But the Apaches did not advance. They watched the train steadily; they held a long consultation which evidently referred to it; at last they seemed to decide that it was in too good order to fall an easy prey; there was some wild capering along its flanks, at a safe distance; and then, little by little, the gang resettled in its bivouac. It was like a swarm of hornets, which should sally out to reconnoitre an enemy, buzz about threateningly for a while, and sail back to their nest.
The plain, usually dotted with flocks of sheep, was now a solitude. The Moquis had evidently withdrawn their woolly wealth either to the summit of the bluff, or to the partially sheltered pasturage around its base. The only objects which varied the verdant level were scattered white rocks, probably gypsum or oxide of manganese, which glistened surprisingly in the sunlight, reminding one of pearls sown on a mantel of green velvet. But already the travellers could see the peach orchards of the Moquis, and the sides of the lofty butte laid out in gardens supported by terrace-walls of dressed stone, the whole mass surmounted by the solid ramparts of the pueblos.
At this moment, while the train was still a little over two miles from the foot of the bluff, and the Apache camp more than three miles to the rear, Texas Smith shouted, “The cusses hev got the news.”
It was true; the foremost riders, or perhaps only the messengers, of Manga Colorada had readied Delgadito; and a hundred warriors were swarming after the train to avenge their fallen comrades.