CHAPTER XXII.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 170, 18 September 1886, Page 7

CHAPTER XXII.

GONE ! ' , Eyery precaution was taken against an attack by the Comanches the night following the surprise on the prairie. The guard was doubled about the camp, and every man slept on his arms. Fortunately there was a full moon ; and in that, southern latitude, with an air as dry and pure as that 6f this upland prairie, its splendour was such as to make a softer day in which a person could read er write, it was bo luminous. , , * John was restless ;, made ' so not only ; by the pain v of hiß wound, which, was mitigatvd by the opiate the doctor had administered, but by apprehensions of an attack.' 'He would rather have enjoyed a' tussle with the redskins had he been in good condition, feeling that their force was ample to successfully, repel an invasion'; biVt'^nd^r'the circumatanceVhe would juati as soon they eihould keep away. " The only tent' in the camp*/ waV that oe-, "cupied by tha "ladles. . In that dry atmo-' spheVe no^ohe 'was afraid to sle^p but j 'and JqHeed.'th^la,dieBVleeping-pla'c l e'qqald v tia'rdly ' W called '-'a' f te'iit; 11 being a, cbver'ofeanvaa * ¥ mi^aggq^mi P Jacerd 4 in?ths qgnibre)of the camp, defended, on all sides. Anatole slept in the other one with the doctor. His one regret on t;ha* night was that he had

not been in the fight. He kept rliingr up <dhd Popping overt he ed^e of, the waggon to.< see* if he could detect/any signs * of Indians; wriggling! like rattlesnake* through the long pfelrto'ffraati If^a breath of air stirred, he nudged the doctor and whispered "There !" until that patient gentleman became a little annoyed at go many false alarms and ad-, i vised his young companion to go to jleep. ' ".What would you do, supposing they did come, Anatole?" ' *fl)ofend the ladies 1" , . , .. ."You, are a gallant little gentleman, Sebastian. I've no doubt you would die in ,their defence. But go to sleep now, and you! will be the better able to give chase should we catch sight of them,to»niorrow." Romeyn had made a soft bed for his friend out of fresh hay, 1 with blankets thrown ovtr it, and a cloak for a pillow, nnd had stretched himself out" by his side, lying.flat on) his back, his S face turned to tbe eky, hie hand on his rifle. He. was not thinking much of the Comanches, although he.,wa* prepared for instant actiou. .The glory of that Southern night entered his soul. < How beautiful, how calm, how heavenly ! What a thrilling .rapture juet to live, could one have been with him there ; and . he • sighed , a • low, tremulous sigh, instantly echoed by John Harrip. > f* What is it, John ? Are ycu in pain ?" "I think my heart hurts me more than ray arm," returned his companion, half gioaning. half laughing. "I've been looking at that-white waggon-cover for the last hour. How beautiful her sweet face must look aeleop in the moonlight !" " I've no doubt of it, old fellow," responded Oscar absently, thinking of another face fairer than a lily ; and presently he began to hum a rondeau, which floated into hid memory like a thistle-down wafted from far away, over sea and land, into a strange country. He bummed it softly, so as not te disturb th<3 camp ; but John made out a . goodxnany of the words, and knew of whom his friend was dreaming. "Between thy he^rfcnnd mine. Chrigtine, i Sweet, uweei the luvo wnich once has been. " Between thee, then and now, Christine, Theru frowu- a lovele.-s bavrioraereeii ; One year's lonjr, lonely rorfd is spread wir,h cruel, false words carpeted ; No hand stretched out to haud is pen 1 Between ttyee, then and now, Chi i-stma. t \ ■ i i " Between thy heart and mine*, Christine, A uea 1h wide and winde are keen ; For lovo is dead that once has been Between thy htan and mine, Christine." Bang ! bang S Every man in the corral j-umped to his feet. Komeyn had finished hie rondeau with a rattling chorus not appropriate to tbe sentiment of the music. He had turned on hist side a little when he spoke to John ; and ever since he had been vaguely watching a curious, vibratory motion iv the grrass coma little distance off. He went on humming his song, while it gradually occurred to him that ie was odd the grass should be moving in one place and nowhere olee ; there was no wind to stir it, He was not at all experienced in Indian modes of warfare ; but he remembered in time something which John had told him ; ■and as the noiseless commotion reached a spot about a rod distant, he very gently. with scarcely a perceptible movement, brought his rifle into range with that particular place and fired two shots, one after the other. "What is it? What is it?" each man was asking the other, seeing no caupe for alarm, as they looked about in the peaceful moonlight. " A skeer for nothin'. " "The shot waß fired in the captain* quarter." " What's up, comrades?" The captain eat up j the doctor ran forward ; there was a general hullabaloo. ' , " What did you see?" asked Harris. " I saw something creeping through the grass," answered Romeyn, feeling intensely foolish at the sensation he had created. " I dare say it was a wild turkey pr a praii iedog." u Green !"• ejaculated one of tbe men, eyeing his lieutenant with disgust. "Kicking up a rumpus about a rabbit !" " Hold your tongue," eaid the captain, sharply. " Smith, you and five others go out and bring in the game, if you can -find it." The men eelectcd, carefully holding their guna in one hand, wont down on their stomachs and crawled along in the direction which Romoyn pointed out to them. In about fifteen minutes they returned dragging with them and throwing down in front of their leader a fine, large - Comanche ! He was stone-dead, with a ride-ball in his brain. " How about the green ?" asked Harris of the man who had growled. "I axes his pardme, returned the fellow, | nodding grimly ab Komeyn. I The Captain now ordered out a scouting ! party to search the errass about the camp ; but not another red skin, dead or alive,could be found. It was evident that this one was ! reconnoiteriog, and probable that' the whole ! band were stationed Bomewhere in some small hollow, within a mile or two. Harris did not care to risk the lives of his men, some of whom would be certain to fall j did thoy attempt to find and rout the ! savages. Sure that these wily creatures would not venture nearer, now that their spy was killed and the camp aroused, he [ ordered his fellows to remain quietly within the corral, but to redouble their vigilance. There was no further alarm that night The ladies,' who had come, trembling, from their waggon, were persuaded to lie down again. In the morning, despite of the fact that he had considerable fever, the result of his" wound, the captain insisted on moving on, declaring that; it would not fxofc him half as much to ride as to keep still. After a breakfast on coffee, slap-jacks, hard tack, and the remainder of the buffalo, the expedition moved on, leaving the dead body of the unfortunate savage as a warning to his companions. Either because they stood in wholesome awe of the ''big thunder" and other superior arms of the whites, or for some other reason^ the Comanches did not again molest them. Strict guard waa kept by day and night until they had left the plains and entered upon the more toilsome portion, of their journey among the mountains, When night after night slioped away withiout anything whatever.ocourring to disturb them, they^ relaxed, very slightly, their extreme caution. \\. " * ,' ,' They may havei been haunted more than once during this time, by eaVage or guerilla bands, who found, them, after reconnoitering, too strong and well prepared -toirisk,* an attack. r Be that . as it may; ith'ey •journeyed on in feafety,. though-very slowly, until they •'< found themselves within two days' march tofJthe »<m.ines,> tand three days .only from Signor Sebastian's ranch. A .•* < Anatole .Was snow*, in: a, >high < state pi excitement.* iHei prattled alll.day long to his , aunt iuJulietta'. and 1 <his,> Cousin Bella about the; fino times) they would have when tlfcy reached homo.fi -<* «:*•• , t ». ..<.>' \}n)ti \~i M^'Oh/jbutjwon't^apa' bei jolly surprißeid,' !l A ; unt' IJqlietta>?HyOh,i'if©ella,-.won?t3wr)-race«1 Jqlietta>?HyOh,i'if©ella,-.won?t3wr)-race« "pvjer theplaqe.tolq^irjheirV.s 1 content- ?**,'* I\\ *' He has improved wonderfully since we started," observed Romeyn, looking with 1 , pleasure At the glowing eager face,

?f HoehaHflive to'a ; green old: age,'?, laid. Harris, pattine the pale cheek, which could not even, yet -boast the roey hue of health. " We will make » mountaineer of him — that will cure his dyspepsia." Ab he made this, playful remark, bo> chanced to look toward Mrs Jardine. Did his censes deceive him ? Was that * sinister smile in her black eyes, or Was it*, only his fancy, always playing him tricka with regard to this, woman ? She had been very trieodly with him ever since they started on this journey — ever . since - th«* night on which he had twice startled her* first with his, reference to the H. murder,and secondly by his report of his visit to Alameda. She had been more friendly than, eve.r before ; there had been something deprecating and conciliatory in her manner, usually so reserved ; jet he could not help believing that she.dipliked him* and that secretly she was working agalnefc hie interest with her daughter. This fear troubled him a good deal. He had enough to contend with in Bella's own preference for another ; to have her mother influencing her against him made the odda too overwhelming. Constantly, without wishing it, he found himself watching Mra Jardine — studying her words, expressions* He feared that she was conscious of this habit of his, of, which he tried to break himsell. There was something wrong between these two. Their natures did not assimilate any more than oil and water. If he looked up by chance, her eye waa upon him ; if she looked up by chance, hia eye was upon her. It had been go all tha time, John quarrelled with himself every day about , it. He felt that this Spanish ladycould have no connection with that otherwoman who had made that grim impression upon his boyish mind. He was annoyed to think that he* could not see Mrs . Jurdine without thinking o£ that handsome murderess of other days. The mother of the girl he loved ! He desired to give her all respect, esteem, admiration ; for he was a loyal, generous spirit. He wished the ghost of the murderess would go where it belonged. John's wound had done remarkably well. His blood waa healthy, and the pure fresh, air was like bairn. The fever had subsided in a day or two almost entiiely, and th& wound was rapidly healing ; but he waah obliged to carry his arm in a sling, and aa Itt was his night on, he was considerably disabled. The party had now left behind all apprehensions of Indian?, and were not afraid of: guerillas, for they wero in a wild part of tho mountains, which, being uninhabited and untravelled.presentedno temptation tothoeot roving band of robbers which infested other parts of the country. Some parts of the road were so difficult* that the ladies were compelled to dismount and clamber along ledges of rock looking: down into frightful ravines, or over obstructions co difficult that their horses could only be urged over them without their riders and led by the halter. But thesa rude portions of the way being varied by miles of comparatively easy travel, and made shorter by anticipation of a speedy ending, were endured not only with a good * grace by the ladies, but were tha cause off much merriment. Small mishaps wera laughed at, while they gave the gentlemen occasion to show their courage, their gallantry, or their wit, as the caee might be. On the last night but two before reaching the mince, tho expedition camped in a littler circular valley, high up above the plain,, hidden in tho mountains— co high that tho air was cool to discomfort after the heat of: the prairies. It was a cunning little plaoa of gholter, however, considering the, altitude, for the hills towering around it kept off the sharp mountain breeze ; there was green grass ior the animals : the sound of waterfalls filled the air with dreamy melody, while, to enhance their comfort, t the men soon found a dead pine tree, which made a crackling, flashing, glorious fire, the red core of which promised to last all night. "This is like a faiiy world," murmured Anatole, when, after on excellent, refresh* ing hot supper, the little party eat around the fire to enjoy a social hour before " turning in "' to their blankets. He was sitting uext to Harrif, of whom he had becomo very fond, and his delicate* thin hand was slipped iuto his friend's well one. John looked down lovingly into the re-* fined, animated face, roey for once with tha reflection of the fiie. The child's great eyes were preternaturally bright as he looked up at. the close-pres3ipg hills, from. some of which torrerta were leaping and flashing in the fitful light, alternating with. deepest shadow. The mysterious beauty and grandeur of the hour was evidently impressing Rim wich awe and vague wonder. " Oo you like it ?" "Yes. If it would not change I could sit here for ever. " "How that cataract ' leaps in glory' as Tennyson call 1 * it ' " Beautiful, beautiful ! Bel'a, sing Tennyson's Bugle Soug." She Fang it, tho gentlemen joining in. with their rich voice?. The deep, far away roar and murmur of streams and waterfalls made a fitting accompaniment. The men came away from their own fir*, and stood about, in the background listening. They encored so heartily when it was done that Bella had to sing the eong again* Then the men gave one of their rousing; camp choruKes, returning to their own flee. And Bella sang one or two love*d tlies very softly and sweetly. Everybody was happy that evenir*r, wecept Mrs Jardine, who tat apart, her chin in her hand, thinking very hard, and staring straight into the fire with those inscrutable dark eyes. Romeyn was mildly melancholy ; but thacharm of the hour touched him to something; like pleasure. While John wae Bupremely content, having Anatole on one side and. Mies Bella on the other, who was in. a mood to be good to him, and did not once snub him, even when he told her that her hair poemed full of fire-fiiea when the light of tha fiatneß went glimmering over its wavy gold. It was a happy evening they passed, the/ last, in a" long while, for any' of thtm. The moon did not now rise until the after part of the night. When "Anatole's lips hegnn to droop the* ' doctor picked him up in his strong arme^ wrapped him in his blanket, and laid him away for the night. The waggons had been, abandoned before this, it being impossible^ to bring them through' the mountain-passes where even tho mule" had a sorry time, But the waggon -cover Had been transformed jnto flj tent which sheltered the two ladiQa 'And" the 1 child,* and where, with plenty of blankets, 'they could still feol comfortable. Here thedoctor laid the child, tucking hinx up' with tender care ;'fbr he was tho pet at the whole company, 1 ' Soon afterward tha ladies retired under the same shelter ; tha fire was replenished ; deep repose,' the profound sleep^wh'ich comes after toil ) and weariness and is enhanced by a bracing atmosphere, settled upon the entire camp. -{n | ~tW ' -- ;« , -„." ; ■ r •i \t\,V '- w"»« V rt,y< i-, r£> >. <* 5p "• 4* ' V <*; ■> jr ;i\tV ,'*. ■"s;h'foi i h">\ T ?}- -^ ' vM-hoi*-' ' Breakfast was nearly ready, the bacon was boiling, the biscuit toastibg, the coffee . steaming, i the gentlemen, were endeavour,-

ing, as u«ual, to have everything as com-HkHtable-as possible - for the ladles. - They had spread a small cloth, and got out 'apoori*/ forks',' and tin plateV+va k* 0 ? 9 J 'fend; were having a jolly time with their -amateur cooking, when Bella and her mother stepped oat from their little tent, ■and both of them looked about^ >" - - ,»« Where <;ia 'Tole?" asked Bella, half ' 'Carelessly. "Bure enough," echoed Mrs Jardihe, ■* : •• Where ia the child ?" " I did not know that he had risen," replied aßomeyn,a Romeyn, looking around from the piece of bacon he was holding on a long fork, to the 'ladies. ''I have not seen him this morning." - "Nor I," echoed the doctor. • ; "Nor I," added Harris. " He must have strolled over to the men," remarked his aunt, placing a camp-stool by the fire, sitting down and stretching out her bands to .warm them, for the mornings in that high altitude were chilly, "I will go take a look," said the goodnatured doctor; "the coffee is boiled, and all is ready." He went off to the second fire around which tho men were clustered. " Where'a Master ,Sebastian ?" " Haven't seen hide nor hair o' the little chap this morning. " **He hain't been round these diggings." ** Bless hia bright eyes, no • Why, doctor, hain't missed him, hoy' ye ?" The dootor looked sharply about, and his colour changed. Then he put his hands to his mouth, and xs&lled again and again. " Ya-whoop ! ya-whoop ! Sebastian " By this time breakfast was quite ready to be served, and everybody was looking about Mm for the missing child. " One of his mischievous tricks. He'll rise up from behind some pile of baggage, ,or out of some corner, when he has teased ■us sufficiently," commented Mrs Jardine. 41 The quickest way to bring him will be to take no further notice." " If you think so, madam, you had better take your coffee, then," and the captain handed her a cuoful of the hot beverage *« You too, Miaa Bella." The ladles sipped their coffee. Mrs Jardine waB particularly hungry and made a hearty breakfast. Bella kept looking about wistfully. " Mamma," she said in a few moment?, ■** I don't like 'Tole'a staying away so. I feel worried." *• The child certainly ought to have made his appearance before this," answered her mother, sotting aside her plate, rising to her feet and looking about. " That's what Pye been thinking about tor the last fifteen minutes," instantly responded Harris, flingIng his tin cup into the grass; "come, gentlemen, if the boy is lost, it is* time we were looking him up." "I'll be derned if I like the look of things," he muttered aside to Romeyn, who was aetonibhed to hear such vigorous language from his gentle-tongued iziend ; but who, also, was beginning to feel uneasy. " You don't think anything could have hap. pened to my boy ?" exclaimed Mrs Jardine, beginning to tremble, and catching Harris by the arm in her excitement. He shook her off almost roughly. " It is high time to think something and dosomeihing. Come, Romeyn.' *« What shall we do ?" We will look about while the men are finishing their breakfast. If we do not find him by that time, we will organise into squads, and search thoroughly. Madam, how long since Anatole left our tent ?" By this time both the women were crying. " I really do not know, captain. I did not awaken until later than usual. When I looked up my darling was not in the tent. I thought nothing of it ; for the dear child is so considerate, he .has slipped out every morning to give us an opportunity to dress." • " Yes," said Bella, half choked with tears. " he usually wakens me before he creeps out, either by tickling me with a bit oi grass, or come other trick of his. Thi& morning he did nothing of the kind." The three gentlemen took up their jriflee and started off, each going in a different direction, agreeingto return in half an hour, with or without the little fellow. " If he is lost, it cannot be far from camp ; as he could not have travelled far since daylight," remarked Romeyn, cheerfully to the ladies, as he turned away. But when he returned at the expiration of the half hour he was very grave ; both the other gentlemen were in before him. "This look 3 serious," said Harris, whose face had a eet, hard expression which no one before had ever seen upon it. " Oh, captain, you can find <him," cried Bella, catching his hands. Her poor young face was white and frightened ; be felt a thrill of ploasure run through all his pain to think that she had -appealed to him. "Heaven willing, I will find him," he eaid, earnestly. ' The whole camp was now astir. Consternation sat upon the bronzed faces of the men, who. were all ready and eager to join in the search. We have said that the camping-ground was a small, nearly circular valley— a sort of dimple in the rugged face of the mountain. They had entered it by a rocky defile winding up from the plains and hills below, and purposed leaving it by a break in the opposite side corresponding with the one by which they came. There was no other opening whatever ; except in one place a rift, as if the solid stone had been blasted asunder by some explosive force in nature - a gap, only a few feet wide, and entirely impassable, as it ran many feet down, and from the bottom of the dark and narrow fissure" came up the sound of roaring waters pushing their way through. ; It chanced that Harris and Romeyn met here. " Could his curiosity have prompted him so far in exploring the valley, and has he made a misstep and fallen into this infernal crevice ?" aeked the latter. . "It is not probable : still it is not impossible." They got on their hands and knees, and looked over. Nothing but perpendicular rock, with here and there a email pine which had found root in the scant soil of some fieaure or projection ; beneath that, , darkness, resounding with the everlasting fret and fume of a rushing torrent. They called ; they fired off their rifles ; but' well they knew that if Anatole had stumbled on that brink his voice would never more respond to earthly summons. / Then they climbed every accessible part of the rock-faced mountain — not because they expected to find him in such, but because they could not keep still while the child remained undiscovered. Meantime the men hod divided into two parties, one of which went forward along the defile, the other returning backward on their yesterday's track. , In the courae of two hours both had returned without tidings. As the child .could not possibly have strayed, on foot farther than they had been, a feeling of , despair now began to be general. Bella, half-wild with grief, did nothing bat wring her hands and sob. Mrs Jardine was comparatively calm j hut her blanched face and, shaking hands proved by what an effort she remained so, "I have* been thinking of the Comanchee," she eaid, raising her dark eyes from * troubled reverie, and looking at Harris. •May they aot have been on our traok all

' "* Xf vt "T"!l r * % this Urn©, have orept into 'camp the §ame* wAy^M-thftt^on* .WAa-«or«opiDK<«h«n ; .Mr Romoyn shot him, and have stolen our darling ?v» k,/J ..n ninit vi «i t «4v s -ivif ( •'I have been thinking of 'Answered. ' **Thfy wwi^/ 'Have don* such a thing. There ia nothing ' againstiti' except that • nothing is > .missing but * the * lobi,! ol.^ They would shave attempted to robJue of some of oue goods." »»**-, • «»<* •■ H> , , 11 They may have done it out of revenge," "It way be, aayou suggest, Mrs Jar*i dine. I wish I could believe it. 'Inthftt case there might be a forlorn, hope for our boy, for the savages do not, usually, kill, their child captives. I wish we had acted on that suspicion at once, and pursued any I track we might have discovered, on i our best horses." > < > " It is not too late," said* Royemn. «• No, we will try it. It is the only thing left to try. I will take twenty men,- and lead them noyeelf. Romeyn, I detail you to remain here and protect the camp, with fifteen men and the cannon. Doctor, you can take the remainder of our brave fellows,, and search' where and how you please. It is altogether likely that I shall not return tonight ; that ie if I think lam on the right trail. If the Comanches have the bay, tbey will kill him, if they ccc us approaching- to re take him. The only way to dp, is to lie low until night, and; then attempt a stolen rescue." ,' Tho captain ordered, and thejrest obeyed. Ac tho camp, with all the .valuable goods, and the two ladies, was to be left with so few men, the cannon — a little six-pounder which they had contrived to bring with them, even abandoning the waggons, having to stop in one . place and blow- up a rock to make a passage for its carriage — was to be loaded and placed so as to cover tho entrance from the defile. Captain Harris selected the best Indianfighters out of his company, and the fleetest horses, even dressing poor Anatole'a into the service ; they took a day's rations with them, getting off a little before noon, with a loud cheer of encouragement from the men and a wail of passionate distress from the women. (To be Continued.)