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Frank Merriwell's Bravery, a novel by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 19. Old Solitary |
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_ CHAPTER XIX. OLD SOLITARY Frank uttered a low cry, causing Barney to start up. "Pwhat's th' matter?" asked the Irish boy, reaching for his rifle. "Is it Injuns, Oi dunno?" "Easy, Barney!" cried Frank. "You will frighten her away from--Caesar's ghost! She's gone!" "Pwhat's thot? Who is she, me b'y? Is it dramin' ye wur, or have ye wheels in yer head?" "Neither. She was here a moment ago, and I was talking with her." "Who is she?" "Miskel." "An' a broth av a name thot is! It's wheels ye have in yer head, me b'y; Oi can hear thim goin' round." Frank sprang up and passed round the fire. "She disappeared like a phantom. I cannot understand how she came here, or how she went away so swiftly." Not a trace of her could be seen. All at once, Frank whirled about and kicked the burning brands in all directions. "That fire shall provide no beacon for Uric Dugan and the Danites!" exclaimed the boy. "Pwhat do yez mane by thot?" asked the puzzled Irish lad. "Is it daft ye have gone all at wance?" Frank came swiftly to the side of his companion, a hand falling on Barney's shoulder, as he said: "We must get out of this, for it is likely our fire has been seen by the Danites, who are somewhere near at hand." "How do yez know thot, Frankie?" "Know it? Why, she told me. She was here a minute ago, and you frightened her away when you awoke." Barney looked at his friend in a doubting way. "Be aisy now, Frankie, and if ye can't be aisy, whoy jist be aisy as ye can. This loife has affected yer brain, me b'y." Frank saw Barney really thought he spoke the truth. "You are wrong," he said. "I will explain what I mean, and I assure you that I am in my sober senses." Whereupon, he told Barney everything, and the Irish lad listened with drooping jaw. "Th' saints protict us!" he cried. "Pwhat are we goin' to do, Frankie?" "Get out of this before Uric Dugan and his gang make us a call." "They move swiftly as an arrow, and strike deep and sure. You have no time to spare." The voice was hollow and blood-chilling, coming out of the darkness as from the depths of a mighty cavern, causing both lads to whirl, clutching their weapons, ready for an attack. "Who is there?" challenged Frank, sharply. "One who will do you no harm," was the answer. "And I alone am able to save you from Uric Dugan." "Who are you?" "I am known as Old Solitary." Not far away could be seen the figure of a man, who seemed to be leaning on a stout staff. He made no menacing move. Barney's teeth were chattering. "Tin to wan it is th' Ould B'y himsilf!" gasped the Irish lad. Barney was very superstitious. While he was not afraid of anything made of flesh and blood, whatever seemed supernatural filled him with the greatest terror. "Steady," warned Frank. "It is a human being, and he seems to be alone. One man will not harm us." "Not av he is a man." "I am a man, and I mean you no harm," declared the same deep voice. "If you will trust me, I may be able to save you. Look--I will advance, and you may keep your weapons turned upon me." The figure came forward through the gloom, and in a few moments he stood close at hand, so they could see he was a man whose head was bare, and whose white beard flowed over his chest. What seemed to be a staff at first glance, proved to be a long-barreled rifle. Barney was intensely relieved. "It must be Santy Claus himsilf!" exclaimed the Irish lad. "You must not linger here," said the stranger. "Even now the Destroying Ones may be moving to fall upon you. They would wipe you from the face of the earth, as they have wiped away hundreds and thousands. They are terrible, and they are merciless. Their tongues are forked, and the poison of adders lies beneath their lips. For the Gentile they know not mercy. If the Mormon Church decrees that they destroy the babe at its mother's breast, they snatch it away and dash out its brains. On their knees innocent girls have pleaded in vain to be spared. Fathers and mothers have fallen before them. Old men with snowy hair have been slaughtered without pity. And chief among these inhuman monsters is Dugan of the dark face. I know him, and I know that his heart is made of adamant. But he shall not always escape the wrath to come. His days are numbered, and the days of his merciless comrades are numbered! All are doomed! Not one shall escape!" "Easy, old man!" warned Frank. "Do you wish to bring them upon us? I shall think you are in league with them." "Not I! Come; I will lead you to a place of safety." The boys hesitated. "Shall we thrust th' spalpane?" whispered Barney, doubtfully. "I don't see as we can do better," returned Frank. "We must take chances." "He may be wan av th' Danites, me b'y." "He may be, but something tells me he is not." "Thin how does it happen thot he is here?" "That is something you can answer as well as I. Come, we will follow him. Keep your weapons ready for instant use." So they followed, and, old man though he was, they found it no easy task, for he moved with a swinging cat-like step that carried him swiftly over the ground. All at once, he turned, with a low hiss, motioned for them to follow, and, crouching low, crept behind some bowlders. The boys followed, ready for a trap. When they were behind the bowlders, the stranger whispered: "They are coming--I hear their footsteps afar. They come swiftly, but they will not find their prey. They are the last of the Danites, and they are in hiding here amid these mountains, but they have not forgotten how to strike and destroy. Crouch low, keep still, and you shall see them pass." It seemed that the old man's ears must be good, for it was quite a while before the boys heard a sound. At length, with a sudden rush of feet, six or eight dark figures flitted past and quickly disappeared. "They come like shadows, and like shadows they go," softly breathed Old Solitary. "The day has passed forever when their power is felt and dreaded throughout Utah. Once they were far more dreadful than a pestilence. Started upon the trail of a man who had been doomed by the church, there was not one chance in ten thousand for him to escape. No man could seek his bed at night and be sure he would not become the victim of the Destroying Angels before dawn. No man could be sure he had not done something to offend Brigham Young. If by any means he became aware that 'the decree of death' had been made against him, it was no better than useless for him to take to flight. He might flee to the desert, but the Destroyers tracked him through shifting sands and across waterless wastes till he was run to earth and his body was left for the vultures and coyotes. If he plunged into the mountains, the canyons and ravines were not deep enough or dark enough to hide him from the keen eyes of the death-dealers on his track. Knowing his doom had been decreed, he might flee madly from his home and his loved ones, his heart alternating between hope and despair, knowing all the while that those deadly pursuers were on his track, hurrying on and on when he was in desperate need of rest, fearing to close his eyes in sleep, lest he open them to look upon his murderers, weak for want of food, his throat parched for a swallow of water, his blood pouring like melted lead through his veins, his brain on fire, and still all his struggles were unavailing. Relentless, unwearying, bloodthirsty and sure as death, the Destroying Ones tracked him down. He might begin to fancy that he had escaped, that he had thrown them off his trail. At last, overcome by his terrible exertions, he might sleep, feeling certain that in a few more hours he would be beyond their reach. They would come upon him like shadows, and they would leave him weltering in his gore. A curse they have been, and a curse they shall remain till the last one of them all is perished from the face of the fair earth which they have polluted." The boys were spellbound by the intense language of the strange man. All fears that he might be one of the Danites departed from their minds. "Begobs!" gasped Barney; "it's Satan's oun brewing they must be!" "Come," said Old Solitary, "we must move on again. They will not find you, and the morning will see them on your trail." "If what you say is true, it were better to be trailed by bloodhounds or wild Indians," said Frank. "Far better. The Destroying Ones hastened to the slaughter with no more mercy in their hearts than is to be found in the heart of a fierce Apache. If they were instructed to kill, they believed it their duty--more than that, they would suffer the tortures of hell if they shirked or shrank from committing the deed." "Oi'm not faling well at all, at all!" sighed Barney. "An' it's caught we are in a place where such craythurs be! Och, hone! Whoy didn't we shtay with th' profissor?" Old Solitary again flitted away, and they hastened along at his heels. Now he was silent of lip and silent of foot. He seemed more like a shadow than anything else. For more than an hour he led them forward with great swiftness, and then they came to a small stream. "You must cover your trail," said the old man. "Follow me." He stepped into the running water, walking along the bed of the stream. They did not hesitate to follow in his footsteps. Before long they came to where the stream fell splashing and tinkling down the mountain. "Up," said Old Solitary. It was a difficult climb, but the boys were young athletes, and they would have been ashamed to let the man with the white hair and beard climb where they could not go. The stream was left, and, clinging to the points of rock with hands and feet, the old man still mounted higher and higher. He seemed to know every inch of the way, which became more and more difficult for the lads. "Begorra!" gurgled Barney; "we'll nivver get down from here, Frankie, me jool." "Well, we'll have no call to kick, if the Danites do not get up to us." "Thot's right." "But I cannot help thinking of Miskel's words. She declared that we were hopelessly snared." "She may have troied to scare ye to death, lad." "Well, what Old Solitary has said about the Destroying Angels has not made me feel any easier." At last they came to a shelf of rock, along which they crept, inch by inch, clinging fast and feeling their way, with a blue void of night above and beneath them. All at once a black opening in the face of the bluff yawned before them, and they saw the man of the white hair and beard standing in the mouth of a cave. "This is my home," declared Old Solitary. "They have not dared attack me here, even though they know where to find me. They consider me harmless, but some day they shall know the difference. Uric Dugan shall know my power!" He turned and entered the cave, and, still trusting all to him, they felt their way along after him. _ |
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