He had lost his horses by my first action. If he had recovered them, or some of them, I must act to disperse them once more. What was it Sun Tzu had said in 496 B.C.? Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of your enemy's unreadiness, move by unexpected routes, and attack unguarded spots.
Well... if possible. And in the morning.
I went to sleep.
Within me was wariness... fear, if you like. My eyes opened upon a cold light, the gray, dim light before the sunrise. Lying still, I listened and heard nothing. Slowly, group by group I began to flex my muscles, pumping blood into them that my actions upon rising would be quicker. Carefully, I sat up.
A quail called... another answered.
Wiping the Ferguson clean of dew, I crept away from the bole of the tree to a better view. First I swept the area with a quick glance, then a more searching one. Then I directed my attention toward where Davy lay, but could see nothing of him, which was as it should be.
Rafen Falvey would try to assemble those men who remained with him. I believed he had lost at least four, but there had been further shooting, and the numbers might have been trimmed still more.
First, Lucinda.
Easing from my cover after a careful study of my surroundings, I went back toward the place I had left her. The log where we had rested was there.
Getting to my feet, I looked all around.
Our tracks were plain enough, but she was gone.
A stir in the brush across from me and my Ferguson came level at waist height. Then a man emerged from the brush and it was Cusbe Ebitt. Behind him was Heath.
"They're movin'," Ebitt said. "Falvey has a skirmish line started up the slope.
maybe two hundred yards back. Looks like they're aimin' to sweep the woods clean." "Where are the others?" "Search me. Ain't seen anybody but Isaac in hours. Where's she?" My explanation was brief. Turning suddenly, the log came into my range of vision again. What was it Van Runkle had said? Something about a bare log, the bark fallen off... the cave was behind it, up the hill somewhat.
Beckoning them, I went into the trees. We worked our way up, and in low tones I explained what we were looking for. If we could hide in the cave, and then attack after they had passed.
There! Under an aspen, clearly cut into the earth, the right side of a heel print--the corner of the heel, the line of the side, and a slight bit of the curve at back. A small sign, but sufficient. Lucinda had come up the slope then, and through the trees in the darkness. Why?
Looking ahead, I saw nothing but the slim columns of the aspen, a few young spruce growing in their shelter, and a crisscrossing of fallen trees. The slope was steep. The light was better now.
A camp-robber jay was keeping us company on the lower branches. Once we heard a faint sound and saw an elk moving away, just vanishing.
The trees thinned out. Before us was a rocky face, some broken, fallen rock on the ground, and in the sandy soil near the cliff face another track, a moccasin track of a wide foot, toeing out somewhat.
Van Runkle! We followed on and found Lucinda's track, well defined, again.
Van Runkle had Lucinda. I said it aloud and Isaac looked over at me. "Who is he?" Explaining, I added, "He's been looking for the treasure, too. And he means to have it." "We'd better find 'em then, an' almighty quick. You can't tell about a man like that." We started again, searching for the cave, following the tracks.
And startled by this discovery, we forgot what we should have remembered.
Rafen Falvey and his men were coming up behind us.
CHAPTER 19
It was a moment of carelessness that saved us. They were still a good thirty yards off and most of them were among the trees when one of them stepped on a dry branch. It cracked, and I turned more swiftly than I have ever turned, and dropping to one knee, I fired.
The bullet took the first man high in the chest.
Ebitt was a dozen feet to my right, and at the crack of the dead branch, he dove into the brush.
Isaac, only an instant behind me, fired also.
It was point-blank range and I believe they had not seen us for they were slow in returning our fire. Isaac went into the trees only a step behind me, and the crack of Ebitt's rifle from the brush caused another man to reel and fall. He scrambled up and ran, however, injured but not seriously. But our fire made them all take to the brush.
Once under cover, we scrambled to find the cave, which must be within a few yards of us. Oddly enough we passed its opening several times before we saw it, and then it was Isaac who glimpsed it first.
One after another we crawled in. The opening was large enough for one man only, and nobody was going to try to enter there with armed men waiting inside. That would not preclude them firing into the cave, however.
We looked around, straining our eyes against the gloom. The rear wall of the cavern was no more than thirty feet from the opening, but there was a wide gap to the left and several openings led off from it.
Ebitt crouched, studying the sandy floor in the dim light.
"There's tracks," he said, "and they go into t one!" We walked to the opening. There was a faint stir of cool air from the opening. "We'll need a torch," Heath commented. "Back from the opening, a body can't see nothing." "Wait," I said, loading my Ferguson.
One hand felt for my pistol, and it was there.
We could hear shouts and yells from outside, the sounds of men crashing in the brush. Heath moved closer to me. "Seen some small boot-tracks.
Likely to be Lucinda's." "All right," I said. "Look around, Isaac. You might find something for a torch.
Others have come this way and they'd need light." Suddenly I remembered. "Be careful! There may be a drop off!" Their voices receded, and for the moment I was alone. The temperature of the cave was cool, but not unpleasant. Rifle in hand, I sat watching the circle of light that was the entrance. I was tired. For days I had been riding, running, climbing, and now it was reaching me. No sound came from outside. Had they gone away? Or were they sitting outside, waiting for us to appear? And where were the others? Where were Solomon, Bob, Degory and Jorge?
Isaac returned. For several minutes I heard his feet coming along the passage before I saw him. "We've found some pine knots. Quite a store of them." "Then we'll go." He turned and I straightened up, stretching a little. The butt of the Ferguson touched the rock wall and I turned to look.
A Maltese Cross.
Chipped into the wall, and not recently, by the look of it. A Maltese Cross with one side of a cross bar longer than the other. Accident?
Or intent?
No footprints in the sand led into t tunnel. I hesitated, staring into the blackness.
From down the other passage, Heath called, "You comin'?" "In a minute." Van Runkle had warned of deep wells within this cave. Was it true? Or merely a means to prevent my wandering and searching?
I took a step into the blackness. The air was cool. It seemed to be dead air... or did I feel a ghost of movement? Another step, my hand upon the wall, my rifle point probing ahead of me.
Nothing. I took another step, and my foot kicked a small fragment fallen from the wall, or carried in on the mud of a boot. The stone hit something, then fell. A long time later I heard it hit, something far down below me, and then again, still farther. A still longer time, then a splash.