CHAPTER VII IN A TREE

All this passed in much less time than has been necessary to describe it.  Not until Fred Munson saw that the Apaches were repulsed did he reflect upon the startling fact that there was no one among all the settlers that was placed in as perilous a position as he.

The red-skins were between him and the houses, or fortifications, as they may be considered.  He was alone, and although he had no gun in his possession, yet it cannot be supposed that his situation would have been any less dangerous on that account.  In the excitement of interest, he had climbed to the highest attainable portion of the tree, where he not only had a good view of the thrilling contest going on under his very eyes, but where the contestants themselves, had they chosen to glance toward him, could have obtained an equally good view of him.  Whether or not they had done so remained to be seen.

“My stars!  I hope they have n’t seen me,” muttered the terrified lad, as he began retreating toward the trunk, with the intent of descending to the ground.  “If they have, I’m a goner, that’s certain.”

The Apaches, although defeated, and driven beyond range of the settlers’ rifles, did not withdraw altogether.  Reaching a point several hundred yards from the houses, they continued moving about on their horses, as though reconnoitering from that distance.  The red-skins did not go together, as would have seemed natural under circumstances, but kept up that peculiar restless movement, as though it were impossible for them to settle down into anything like quiet.  This action upon their part threw a number of the red horsemen among the woods, where Fred was perched, so that he had every reason for being alarmed.

He was a skillful climber, however, and when he reached the trunk he moved down it, with the nimbleness of a monkey, taking care, however, not to be too rapid or sudden, as the movement might attract notice.  Then, too, he had the benefit of a denser vegetable growth, in which he thought it quite possible to conceal himself even from an Indian passing beneath.

“If they have n’t noticed me,” he reflected, as he crouched upon a limb, and looked and listened, “I’ve a good chance of keeping out of their sight altogether.  It’s a pity I had n’t had enough sense to think of all this before.”

He continued creeping down the tree, until he was within twenty feet or so of the ground, when he paused, deeming it hardly safe to descend to the solid earth until matters looked a little less threatening.  Fred was in a bad predicament, and he was sorely puzzled to decide what was best to do.  There could be no doubt that numbers of Indians were in the wood around him, and if he descended to the ground he ran that much more danger of falling into their hands.  He could not avoid a strong suspicion that he had been seen, and that his movements had been watched and understood for some time past.