A Waif of the Mountains

“If they make fools of themselves and upset all my plans, what can I do to help ’em? Why didn’t they stay where they promised to stay, and why didn’t they kill that blamed dog afore he played this trick on ’em?”

Timon stood for two or three minutes so immovable that he suggested a stone image of himself, carved out of the rock on which he was perched. Then he emitted a single husky bark and leaped lightly down from where he had been standing. It was no more than a dozen feet, and he alighted as gracefully as a panther. He trotted part way to the horsemen, who were closely watching his movements, stopped, barked again and wheeling, trotted forward over precisely the course Vose Adams was taking when checked by the appearance of the canine.

The men looked at one another in astonishment. The action of the dog was unaccountable, but Captain Dawson’s explanation sounded reasonable.

“That shows we are on the right track and he has come to guide us to where they are awaiting him.”

There could be no doubt of it. The actions of the brute said as plainly as so many words: “Come with me and I will take you straight to the people you want to see.”

Instead of following Timon at once, the party kept watch of him. He trotted a dozen steps and then paused and looked back. Observing that he was not understood, he emitted several more barks, took a couple of steps and then repeated the performance. His object was so evident that Captain Dawson said:

“That’s as plain as the nose on your face; the animal is worth a dozen guides like you, Vose.”

“Then why don’t you foller him?” sulkily asked the latter.

“That’s what we shall do; come on.”

Observing that the captain left his horse standing, the parson inquired the reason.

“They are of no use to us and will be only a bother; leave them here until we need them; I will follow the dog and you can take what order you choose, but,” he added with unmistakable earnestness, “every one of you must keep in the background till I’m through.”

Timon held his motionless position until the four men had taken several steps toward him and there could be no error as to their intention. Vose Adams observed that he was following, without a hair’s variation, the course he had in mind.

“It serves ’em right,” was his angry reflection; “when the leftenant spoke ’bout hunting up a new trail through the mountains, I oughter knowed he hain’t no sense and was sure to make a mess of things. Now’s he gone and sneaked off where these folks will stub their toes agin him; I’m ’sprised that the Queen didn’t hammer a little sense into his head.”

The guide was in a torture of apprehension. The impending outcome was likely to betray the deception he had used, but it was not for that he cared. There could be no mistaking the deadly mood of Captain Dawson and the equally intense hatred of Ruggles and Brush. A meeting with Lieutenant Russell made a frightful tragedy inevitable, and no one could be more vividly aware of the fact than the young officer himself, for Vose had impressed it upon him, but the guide in his anguish of spirit, saw no possible escape from it. He stolidly followed, striving to brace himself for what must soon come.

Meanwhile, the strange leadership continued. Timon seemed to be impatient, for occasionally he broke into a trot, abruptly pausing and looking back, as if to urge his followers to use more haste. Since they did not do so, he checked himself, when about to pass beyond sight and waited for them to draw near. He led them around boulders and masses of rocks, over ridges, down declivities, across one small stream, through a ravine and again among the precipitous piles of stone, until even the hardy men were well nigh exhausted. They had traveled fully a mile over a route that was of the most trying nature.

It was about this time that an extraordinary suspicion began forming in the mind of Vose Adams. He hardly dared give credence to it, but it took greater hold upon him with every few rods of advance. Nothing in the world would have induced him to make known his suspicion, but it continued to grow.

Suddenly Captain Dawson stopped. As he looked around his face was agitated.

“Boys,” said he, “there’s something infernally strange about this.”

Vose Adams saw that his own suspicion had entered the mind of their leader, but the countenance of the guide was as blank as that of a child.

“It’s the worst tramp I ever had,” remarked the parson, removing his hat and mopping his forehead.

“If there’s any harder work,” added Ruggles, “count me out.”

Captain Dawson looked angrily at Vose.

“Do you know the meaning of this?”

Vose shook his head and prevaricated still further by adding:

“Nor what you’re driving at either.”

“That dog has misled us; instead of conducting us to the couple he has taken us away from them.”

It was true and every one of the four knew it. The suspicion of the guide had become certainty. Was it instinct or reason that controlled the animal? Who shall draw the line in explaining many of the actions of the brute creation?

Vose Adams was silent a moment and then emitted a low whistle.

“Hang me, if I don’t b’leve you’re right, captain. I’ve been told that that dog knowed more than a good many folks and there ain’t no doubt of it now.”

The disgusted parson exclaimed:

“Why didn’t one of us think of that? The idea of all four being fooled by a dog!”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if there had been two dogs,” said Ruggles, who saw the grim humor of the thing, “but it is tough to have our eyes shet by only one.”

It was impossible for Vose Adams wholly to restrain all evidence of his pleasure. When in the depths of despair, he was awakened to the fact that the canine had performed one of the most brilliant exploits conceivable. He could not help smiling. The captain was in an ugly mood and in a threatening voice asked:

“Did you have anything to do with this?”

“Certainly; me and Timon fixed up the thing afore he left Dead Man’s Gulch; it took us a good while; the dog didn’t think it would work, but I stuck to it and finally he promised to have a try at it; certainly we fixed it up atween us.”

The guide did a clever thing in thus turning the fantastic belief of the captain into ridicule. Had he protested, he might have added to the suspicion against himself. It was further in his favor that it was known he had never had much to do with Timon. As already related, the brute had few friends among the miners and Vose Adams never sought his acquaintance.

Nevertheless, it was impossible to brush out of sight one significant fact,–the long absence of Adams the day before. But for the last occurrence, nothing would have been thought of the former, but it was clear that Captain Dawson had begun to entertain doubts of the loyalty of his guide.

“He’ll never repeat his trick anyway,” exclaimed the officer, facing about and bringing his rifle to his shoulder. But his intention of shooting Timon was frustrated, for the brute was nowhere in sight. Unreasonable as it might sound, it looked as if he suspected how things would turn out and took the occasion to place himself beyond danger from the indignant men.

“In the army we shoot spies and traitors,” remarked the captain, so angered by his repeated disappointments that he could not govern his feelings. In giving expression to the remark, the officer made a serious mistake, which he saw the moment the words left his lips. He was suspicious of Vose Adams, but he should have concealed all evidence of it, until the proof appeared. When that took place, he would shoot the man with no more hesitation that he would have shot the dog. But he had now put Vose on his guard and the difficulty of detecting him was increased tenfold.

As if to obliterate the memory of his words, the captain said in the most matter of fact tone he could assume:

“The mistake we made has taken us from the right spot; they must have been near the rocks where Timon showed himself.”

“No doubt,” said the parson, “and were watching us.”

“The one thing to do is to retrace our steps; perhaps the two may be fools enough,” bitterly added the captain, “to wait for us, since that seems to be the only way by which we shall ever come up with them.”

A single short bark startled them. The captain wheeled like a flash with his gun at his shoulder. But Timon was too cunning to show himself. It is not improbable that he meant the expression for a note of triumph over his inimitable exploit, while such a wonderful dog was too wise to run any risk of punishment from his indignant victims.

The hunter is sustained against fatigue by the excitement of the chase; and, despite the severe labor of following the canine guide, all four men stood it far better than the return to the spot where the pursuit began. Angered, chagrined and in desperate mood, even the grim leader was forced occasionally to stop and rest. Nearly two hours passed before they descried the familiar pile of rocks in their front.

“That’s the spot,” he said, “but what good can it do us? It’s a wonder if they have not run off with our horses; it would be a fitting climax to this folly.”

It was the secret wish of Adams, from the moment of discovering the cleverness of Timon, that this very thing should be done. If Lieutenant Russell took such a precaution, it could not fail to be effective. Returning to the main trail after his pursuers were out of the way, he would have an open path through the mountains to Sacramento. If the lameness of Nellie’s pony continued, her saddle could be transferred to one of the other horses, and, leading or driving the remainder of the animals, the four men would soon find their task a hopeless one.

But the young officer was restrained from such action by a certain chivalry that governed all his actions. He could not consent to take so unfair an advantage of an enemy, even though the fate of one dearer than his own life was at stake. And yet it must be confessed that the lieutenant drew it very fine. His course did not win the respect of his enemies, who were inclined to attribute it to stupidity, rather than courtesy.

But no time was to be lost in deciding their line of action.

“I think we’d better make a hunt among them rocks,” suggested Wade Ruggles.