Chapter XIII: The Return of Kah-Go-Mish

There were no alarms of cougars nor of any human wild people around the Santa Lucia ranch. Even the dogs could hardly get up an excuse for healthy barking after dark.

Just in the dawn of that next morning, however, the cowboy on guard at the stockade gate was taken by surprise. Nobody rode up to the wooden barrier, but his quick ears caught a stealthy footstep behind him, and he turned sharply around with his hand on the lock of his rifle.

Did she mean to murder him?

There she stood, Norah McLory, with a double-barrelled gun in one hand and a cleaver in the other, and a red shawl pinned all around her. She made a very striking picture, and the look on her face was very much as if she were ready to strike.

"What's up, Norah?" exclaimed the cowboy.

"Faith an' I'm oop mesilf," said she. "I couldn't slape for thinking of thim red villains."

"No redskins 'round here," almost yawned the weary sentry.

"Ye don't know that," said Norah, "and I wanted to see was you watchin'. We moight all be murdhered in bed."

"The dogs'd take care o' that," said he, "and, oh, but I'm hungry."

"I'll have you the cup of hot coffee right soon," said Norah, "and you needn't tell the byes I watched ye."

That was a bargain, but before the coffee boiled there was proof of other wakefulness besides Norah's. Mrs. Evans and Vic were out to look at the garden and to feed the chickens and to talk about what might be going on in the far-away camp which contained the red mustang.

After breakfast the cowboys went to their duties. So did Norah and the Mexican servants. Vic and her mother took a brisk horseback ride, and came back to their home.

"Everything is too quiet, mother," said Vic, impatiently. "There isn't anything going on! I want to see somebody! I want to see something! I hate this waiting."

"I'm afraid it will be days and days before we can hear from your father or Cal," said Mrs. Evans, "but I hope it will be good news when it comes."

The entire garrison of Santa Lucia, ladies, servants, and cowboys, talked of the men on the trail of Kah-go-mish, and wondered where and under what circumstances their camp might be getting breakfast.

Cal Evans himself, although he awoke in the camp they were talking about, did not clearly know where it was, and while he was grooming the red mustang he said as much to Sam Herrick.

"Colorado!" remarked Sam; "you're just like everybody else. I believe those Chiricahuas have lost the trail, or else they don't mean we shall find the Mescaleros."

"What's going to be done?" asked Cal.

"Your father and Captain Moore mean to push right on," said Sam. "They've got some plan or other. Tell you what, though, if I was an Apache chief, and if I'd gobbled a drove of horses, as they did, I'd take my chances over in Mexico. I wouldn't come loafing out hereaway, to be followed by cavalry and caught napping. There's a plain of awfully dry gravel a little west of where we are now."

Cal finished Dick, and then he carried his questions to his father.

"Sam's right," said the colonel. "He's an old hand at trailing. We believe the redskins have crossed the line."

"Into Mexico? Shall we miss 'em?"

"No, Cal, I think not. Captain Moore knows something of what the Mexicans are doing. The Apaches won't be comfortable there. What we're guessing at is the place where they're likely to come out again. We're pretty sure we know about where it's got to be."

He might have been less positive if he could have seen how very comfortable the band of Kah-go-mish looked in their camp among the Mexican mountains at that very hour.

It was a safe place, but it was not one to remain in for any great length of time, for the horses had already eaten up nearly all the grass. Some of the braves had gone out after game successfully, while others had brought in fish, so that the human beings had food enough, but the quadrupeds would soon wear out the pasturage of so small a valley.

Ping's cougar was regarded as capital game, the best kind of meat in the world to Indian tastes, as far as he would go.

The discovery had already been made that more plentiful grass could not safely be sought for under the Mexican flag. Too many lancers and rancheros were out on the war-path, and the thoughts of all the band were turning towards some better refuge north of the United States line. Everybody was contented for the day, however, or until about the middle of the afternoon. Even Wah-wah-o-be was astonished then, and Ping for a moment forgot his cougar. The little valley rang with a great whoop, which came from its southerly end. Every brave within hearing did his best to answer that whoop, and the whole camp was at once in a state of excitement, for it was the voice of the returning Kah-go-mish, and it was thrilling with triumph.

Here he came, not astride of the doleful pony that had carried him away, but riding an elegantly caparisoned steed. Some other horses followed him. He had gone out almost weaponless, and he was now overloaded with weapons. He had gone bareheaded, and now he wore a gorgeously gold-laced and yellow-plumed cocked hat, recently the special pride of a major of Mexican militia. Even the Reservation chimney-pot silk beauty, green veil and all, was altogether nothing compared with this.

Kah-go-mish had not exactly played Cortes, and conquered Mexico, but what he had done was very nearly the same to Wah-wah-o-be, Tah-nu-nu, and The-boy-whose-ear-pushed-away-a-piece-of-lead.

It was a great time, but the chief had the plans of a general in his head. No Mexican force would follow him into the Sierra, but one might try to head him off on the other side, and take away his horses, and it was time to be moving.

The band broke camp at once, to push on through the rugged mountain-paths as long as there might be daylight enough to go by. That was why the darkness, when it came, found them scattered all along the bottom of a tremendous gorge, walled in by vast perpendicular faces of quartz and granite rock. Even Ping thought it wonderful, when the straggling camp-fires were kindled, that their light did not stream half-way up those walls, and left the rest in shadow until the moon rose high enough to show them.