CHAPTER XXII. AN ENCOUNTER WITH “BLOODS.”

The Indians appeared to be in no hurry, and from the fact that the carcass of a deer lay across the back of one of their ponies Ralph judged that they were a hunting party. But the appraising glances that they cast at the tethered ponies were by no means reassuring.

They looked about them cautiously for a time, and exchanged some hasty words in their guttural dialect. Then the one who wore the odd-looking frock coat and the eagle feather slipped from his pony and approached those that were tied.

It was high time to interfere apparently; but still Ralph hung back. Unarmed as he was, he was unwilling to show himself until actual necessity called for it. But when the frock-coated[211] Indian deliberately began to unknot the tie ropes of their ponies his intention was only too plain and the boy cast all prudence aside.

“Hey, you, let go of that pony!” he exclaimed, coming out from the shelter of the alders.

The Indian started and turned, and his two companions did the same. For a minute they were considerably startled, for “red coats” (mounted police) occasionally rode through that part of the country.

But when they saw that it was only a boy who faced them, they quickly recovered their composure.

“Hullo, white boy,” said the one that appeared to be the leader, speaking a dialect that cannot be reproduced on paper. “Hullo, white boy, what you want, eh?”

“I want you to leave those ponies alone,” spoke back Ralph boldly, “they belong to me and my partner.”

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“That so, eh? Well, we take them ’long small piece, savee?”

The rascal coolly bent over the rope and went on unfastening it. Ralph was, for a minute, at a loss what to do. Then he bethought himself of Jim in the cave.

“Jim! oh, Jim!” he cried shrilly.

“Hullo,” came a hearty voice in reply, “what’s up?”

“Some rascals are stealing——” began Ralph, when one of the mounted Bloods slipped swiftly from his pony and, before the boy could utter an other syllable, grasped him by the throat. Ralph was a powerful boy, but in the hands of the wiry, muscular Blood he was no more than an infant The man drew an ugly looking knife.

“You keep quiet, eh? Me plentee stickee you, you make any more chac-chac (talk).”

Whether the Indian would really have carried out his threat or not Ralph had no means of guessing, but he deemed it most prudent under[213] the circumstances to obey. The Indian smelled most abominably of liquor, and was evidently in no docile mood. A sort of reckless deviltry danced in his eyes that warned Ralph not to cross him.

But the next instant, to his unspeakable relief, he heard Jim’s voice again.

“I’m trying to climb up the rock. I’ll be there in a jiffy. Confound it, but it’s slippery!”

Of course Ralph could not reply, but the words cheered him. If Jim would only appear with his rifle maybe he could scare the Bloods off. In an agony of impatience he waited. Luckily the rain had wetted the knots so that they were hard to untie and the Blood leader was having a lot of trouble with them.

Suddenly Ralph heard a sharp cry from the Indian that still remained on horseback. The one that was bending over the knots heard the exclamation and glanced up, as did the one that[214] was threatening Ralph. The boy, too, looked around and soon saw what had alarmed them.

Creeping into the clearing were two immense, tawny forms. The female cougar had returned with her mate!

The Indians gave a series of sharp cries, and the one that held Ralph released his hold and ran for his pony. So did the one that had been bent on stealing the white men’s mounts.

Lashing the ground with their tails the lions began to give utterance to a sort of whining snarl.

This was answered from within the cave by a chorus of mewings and squeals from the cubs. The sound of her young appeared to drive the lioness to fury. She leaped full at the nearest Indian, and landed on the haunches of his terrified pony.

One of the others snatched a rifle from his saddle and fired at the animal, but before he could aim properly the male cougar had attacked him, and the bullet went wild. Evidently the[215] lions thought the Indians were responsible for keeping them from their cubs.

The rifle was an old, single-barrelled one, and having fired the one shot the Indian had no chance to reload. But as the bullet sang by her, the lioness had relaxed her hold on the terrified pony’s haunches and slipped to the ground to face this new antagonist. Ralph gazed on with fascinated horror. The scene was unreal, fantastic almost. The three Indians, an instant before bent on thievery, were now fighting for their lives against two creatures urged to fury by the most powerful motive known to the animal kingdom—the love of their young.

“Cheysoyo tamya!” cried the one with the eagle feather, and, urging their ponies to mad flight, the Indians made off at top speed. The lions made two or three bounds after them, but then stopped to listen to the appealing cries of the cubs inside the cave.

They were a badly embarrassed pair of felines.[216] Evidently the manner in which the cave had been sealed up during their absence was a mystery to them. They walked about in front of it sniffing, growling and lashing their tails like gigantic cats in a rage. Dangerous as his position was, Ralph could not but admire the restless grace of the tawny creatures with their smooth, yellowish coats and great green savage eyes.

Suddenly, and without any particular reason that Ralph could see, although they had undoubtedly smelled him, the two cougars came bounding toward the alder thicket into which he had crouched back when first they appeared. Ralph’s heart almost stopped beating as they came. He looked toward the cave despairingly.

As he gazed he saw Jim’s rugged face appear in the crack above the rock. The mountaineer took in the scene instantly, and, although he could not see Ralph, he called to him.

“Come on the rock, boy! I’ll hold them back.”

Ralph saw the muzzle of Jim’s rifle gleam in[217] the afternoon sun as he thrust it through the crack and sighted with his keen eyes along the barrel.

Instantly his mind was made up as to what he would do. As the lions dived into the alders not far from him he dashed out and made for the rock. In the meantime the tethered ponies were plunging and rearing as if they would break their ropes. But the lions paid no attention to them. Apparently they were only seeking those who had invaded their den.

As Ralph made his dart for safety the lions spied him. With crashing bounds they came out of the underbrush.

Ralph felt a bullet whiz by his ear, but he heard no howl to tell that one of the lions had been hit. Instead, came Jim’s voice from above.

“Oh, Lord! This plagued rock juts out too far for me to aim down on ’em.”

“Throw me down the rifle, quick!” cried Ralph, an agony in his voice.

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He knew he could not clamber up the rock in time to avoid the lions’ claws. His one chance lay in the desperate plan he had formed as Jim’s exclamation came to his ears.

Jim let the rifle come sliding and clattering down the rock and Ralph caught it up. The strange noise of the weapon as it came to the ground after the startling report halted the lions for an instant. But as he turned to face them Ralph saw that they were all ready for another attack.

He bravely prepared to meet it, although his pulses throbbed and his breath came so fast that he could hardly hold the rifle in the proper position.