The Silent Rifleman! A tale of the Texan prairies Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  THE NIGHT ALARM.

  All day they rode across the open plains, presenting still the sameinvariable aspect of rich prairie land, for the most part nearly level,but now very rich and fertile, and becoming more and more so, withevery mile our party traversed.

  At noon, they halted for three hours under the shelter of a clump ofmagnificent oaks over-canopying a little pool, the well-head of asclear a streamlet as ever was the haunt of Grecian woodnymph. Thesylvan meal was spread with all the simple luxury of a frontiers-man'sfare.

  After the meal was over, the Partisan said:

  "Now try to sleep for an hour or so, while I go and take a round onthe prairie. I see a flock of buzzards yonder, whose motives I don'texactly understand, and I would have a nearer look at them."

  And with the word, he took up his rifle, tried it with the ramrodto see that the ball had not fallen out, from the speed at which hehad ridden, as the gun hung muzzle downward at his back; renewed thecopper caps, loosened his wood-knife in its sheath, and walked offunaccompanied toward the spot in the plain above which a flight of theblack vultures, commonly known as Turkey Buzzards, were hovering andswooping, at a distance so great that they looked no larger than flies,and that no ordinary eye could have distinguished what they were.

  As he moved away slowly, Julia's eyes followed his departing figure,and her face wore a very thoughtful expression, as she turned round toher husband.

  "There goes an extraordinary man," she said, with an expression of deepfeeling. "A very singular, and very noble character. I never have seenand very seldom read of anything like him."

  "By Heaven! I believe he is in love with you, Julia," replied FrankGordon, half laughing, half in earnest. "I have thought so all themorning."

  "Silly, silly, Frank!" she answered, slapping his hand playfully. "Doyou know that they say jealous husbands make false wives? and that youshould not imagine that I could like any man but you."

  About an hour elapsed before the Partisan returned, bearing on hisshoulders the saddle of a fat buck, which he had shot during hisreconnaissance, wrapped in his own hide, and in his right hand,together with his rifle, a long Comanche arrow reddened with dry gore.

  He found the whole party sleeping so soundly that he walked into thevery midst of them without disturbing one of the number.

  For many hours, not a sound was heard in the neighbourhood of thelittle encampment. The moon rose and soared above it in her silverbeauty, and bathed everything for miles and miles around in softlustre--the stars rose and set--and the first grey ray of morning wasjust beginning to pale the eastern horizon, when a deep, continuous,hollow sound, like the roar of the distant surf, aroused every one inan instant.

  "Indians! it is Indians!" exclaimed Gordon. "Stand to the horses, lads.Strike the tent like lightning. If one of the beasts neigh or stir, weare lost."

  Three of the dragoons, who had risen to their feet on the first alarm,obeyed his orders in an instant, as regarded the horses; Gordon himselfstruck the tent, and in deep silence, speechless and almost breathless,they awaited the result.

  Nearer and nearer drew the din. Gordon was right; it was the fastfalling tramp of unshodden horse hoofs. Five minutes, or less, afterthe first alarm, the mounted horde swept by the mouth of the gorge,so near that the travellers could see their shaven and plumed scalps,their easy martial seats on their wild horses, and their long lances inrelief against the sky. But the darkness which brooded over the littlebasin protected them, and almost as soon as it was there, the dangerhad passed over.

  But as it ended, and the men had time to look around them, it wasperceived at once that one of their number--Pierre, the Partisan--wasmissing, and that the sergeant, although that din might have arousedthe dead, still lay asleep on the greensward.

  Asleep, indeed! in that sleep which knows no waking. Three deepknife-wounds in his bosom, his throat cut from ear to ear, the cordssevered which had bound him to the prisoner--these sufficed to tell thetale.

  But the Mexican and the sergeant's charger had vanished, and thePartisan and brown Emperor were absent.

  Horror, and a sense near akin to despair, fell on the party thusabandoned. For a little while they gazed in each other's faces, muteand white with surprise, if not with terror. Gordon was the first torecover from his consternation, and he spoke cheeringly.

  "The prisoner has escaped, and the Partisan has gone in pursuit ofhim, that is clear," he said. "We have nothing to do but to wait hereuntil he returns. We have food in abundance; and water and forage forthe horses, and we can keep this pass against all the Indians in theuniverse, so long as our ammunition lasts--and we can fire five hundredrounds, if the Comanches find us out, which I think they will not.Keep good heart, therefore, men, and, trust me, Pierre Delacroix willbe back here before sunset."

  "But the Comanches! have not they cut him off?" whispered Julia, whohad not spoken one word since the first alarm, but had behaved with thecool, passive fortitude of a brave, noble woman, awaiting the end insilent resignation.

  "Surely not," replied Gordon, confidently. "Had they fallen in withhim, his brave horse would surely have outstripped them, and in hisflight he would surely have led them in a contrary direction from this,our stronghold."

  "Sure he would. You are right! you are right!" said the quick-wittedgirl--"God's name be praised; you are right, Frank; he is safe."