Part 9 (1/2)

The few minutes occupied in making this change were those which Mickey felt were of great danger; for, if he should reach the wood and find himself opposed to but a single man, or even two, the situation would not be so uneven by any means. No shots were fired, and he drew a great sigh of relief when he gained the desired covert.

”Now I can dodge back and forth, and work me way up to them,” he concluded; ”and when they stick their heads out from behind the trees, I'll whack 'em for 'em, just as we used to do at Donnybrook when the fun began.”

He waited where he was for some time, in the expectation that his foe would reveal himself by an attempt to draw out. But if there is any one thing which distinguishes a scout, whether white or red, at such a time, it is his patience. It is like that of the Esquimaux, who will sit for sixteen hours, without stirring, beside an airhole in the ice, waiting for a seal to appear. Mickey O'Rooney was not burdened with overmuch patience, and acted upon the principle of Mohammed going to the mountain. He began picking his way through the shadows and among the trees, determined to keep forward until the mystery was solved.

CHAPTER XII.

THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS. CONTINUED.

When Mickey found himself under the shelter of the trees, something like his old confidence returned.

”As I obsarved some minutes ago, it's mesilf that's not going to stand any fooling,” he added, loud enough for the redskins to hear. ”Whither ye're there or not, ye ought to spake, and come out and smoke the calomel of peace, and give a spalpeen a chance to crack your head, as though ye're his brother; but if ye're up to any of your thricks, make ready to go to your hunting-grounds.”

By this time he was within a dozen feet of the spot whence came the rustling that so disturbed him, and was staring with all his eyes in quest of the redskins. In spite of the bright moonlight, the Irishman could not be certain of anything he saw. There were trees of large size, behind any of which an Indian might have s.h.i.+elded himself effectually, and it was useless for Mickey to look unless his man chose to show himself.

The Irishman had all the natural recklessness of his race, but he had been in the Apache country long enough to learn to tone it down, for that was the country where the most fatal attribute a man could have was recklessness or rashness. In many instances of conflict with Indians it is worse than cowardice.

But, in the face of Mickey's a.s.surance to the contrary, he did not feel altogether easy about the Apaches he had left at the cave. His humanity had prevented him from depriving them of means of escape, and although he was inclined to believe that they were not likely to climb the la.s.so until many hours should elapse, there could be no certainty about it. They might do so within an hour after the departure of the man and boy.

It was this reflection that caused Mickey to act with something of his natural rashness. He felt that he could not afford to wait to fight the thing out on scientific principles, so he determined, since he was so close, to force it to an issue without delay. Accordingly, he prepared himself to charge.

”I've been too kind already in giving ye warnings,” he added, gathering himself for the effort, ”and if your indifference causes your ruin, it's your own fault, as the bull remarked when he come down on a b.u.t.t agin the engine.”

Compressing his lips, Mickey made his start, forcing out a few words, as he would shoot bullets on the way.

”n.o.body but a spalpeen of a coward would keep out of sight when he saw a head coming down on him in such tempting style as mine. I can't understand how he could.”

In his furious hunt for antagonists, the belligerent fellow did not think of looking upon the ground. He made the blunder of Captain John Smith, of the Jamestown Colony, who, in retreating from Powhatan's warriors, became mired, with the eventual result of making Pocahontas famous, and securing an infinite number of namesakes of the captain himself.

Mickey O'Rooney had scarcely begun his charge when his feet came into violent collision with a body upon the ground, and he turned a complete somersault over it.

”Be the powers! but that's a dirty thrick!” he exclaimed, gathering himself up as hurriedly as possible, and recovering very speedily from his natural bewilderment. ”A man who drops in the ring without a blow is always ruled out, and be that token ye're not ent.i.tled to the respect of illegant gintlemen.”

During the utterance of these words the Irishman had carefully returned, boiling over with indignation and fight, and at this juncture he discovered the obstruction which had brought him to grief.

So far as appearances went, there was no Indian nearer than the cave. It was his own horse that had made the noise which first alarmed him. While the equine was stretched upon the ground, peacefully sleeping, his b.u.mptious owner, in charging over his body, had stumbled and fallen.

Mickey was thrown ”all in a heap” for a minute or two, when he found how the case stood, and then he laughed to himself as he fully appreciated the situation.

”Well, well, well, I feel as chape as Jerry McConnell when he hugged and kissed a gal for two hours, one evening, and found it was his wife, and she felt chaaper yet, for she thought all the time that it was Mickey O'Shaughnessy. I suppose me old swateheart,” he added, as he stooped down and patted the head of his horse, ”that ye've been living so high here for two or three days that ye're too fat to be good for anything. Come, up wid ye, ye old spalpeen!”

The mustang recognized the voice of his master, and obeyed as promptly as a child, coming upon his feet with the nimbleness of a racer, and ready to do what he was bidden. Mickey led him out into the moonlight, when he left him standing, while he went a short distance for the saddle and bridle, which he had concealed at the time of leaving the spot. They were found just as he had left them, and he returned in high feather, secured them in a twinkling upon his animal and galloped back to where the lad was waiting.

”Ye haven't seen or heard anything of redskins, have ye, while I was procuring my cratur?”

”Nothing at all,” replied the lad; ”but I heard you talking pretty loud, so I suppose you must have found several.”

”No,” answered Mickey, who did not care about explaining the whole affair.