Read Online Skeleton Lode by Ralph Compton - Free Book Online Page A

Arlo unsaddled their horses, unloaded the pack mule, and leading their animals, followed Paiute and his mule out of the cavern. The Indian understood the need for graze, and once they again reached a plateau, Paiute mounted his mule. There was nothing for Dallas and Arlo to do but mount their horses bareback, and leading the pack mule, follow the Indian. Paiute took them to yet another exit from the mountain, a dangerously steep one that a rider unfamiliar with the trail wouldn’t have dared. They emerged on a grassy plateau that seemed unreachable from the parapets above or from the foothills far below. If the grazing animals strayed, it would have to be back to the hazardous trail down which they’d come.
     
    “Not a lot of graze here,” Arlo noted, “but enough for our horses and mules for a few days. If we’re here longer than that, one of us will have to slip into town after dark for another sack of barley and some grub for ourselves.”
     
    Dallas and Arlo loosed the animals to graze and followed Paiute back up the side of the mountain on foot. Even in the cool of the night, they were sweating by the time they reached the rim.
     
    “By God,” Dallas panted, “that Indian’s a better man than I am. We’ll still have to climb back down here for the horses and mules before dawn.”
     
    The trio returned to their hidden camp and slept. Dallas and Arlo awoke long before first light, preparing to go for the horses, but the Indian was gone.
     
    “Well, that beats the goose a-gobblin’,” Dallas said. “I doubt we can even
find
that straight-down drop-off in the dark.”
     
    But by the time they got their boots on, they could hear the
clop-clop-clop
of hooves, and they soon saw Paiute leading the horses and mules into the cavern. While the old Indian could not or would not help them in their search for the mine, his knowledge of the Superstitions was proving invaluable. Though it was still dark outside, so well were they concealed that Dallas was able to start their breakfast fire.
     
    * * *
     
    Come the dawn, Gary Davis turned his eyes downriver, where Dallas and Arlo had set up their camp the night before. His angry bellow alerted his own camp that something was wrong, and he turned on Yavapai and Sanchez.
     
    “Damn it, get down there and find their trail!”
     
    “We have no breakfast yet, Señor,” said Yavapai, unperturbed.
     
    “By God,” Davis shouted, “find that trail!
Then
you can eat.” Furious, he glared at Kelly and Kelsey just as they were starting the breakfast fire. The look in their eyes warned him to back off.
     
    By the time Yavapai and Sanchez reached the deserted camp; the remaining gold seekers from town—fifteen men in all—were there, cursing, shouting, and destroying what trail there was, even as they sought it. The two Mexicans fought their way into the thickets of the Superstitions and eventually found tracks.
     
    “I think per’ap it is yesterday’s trail,” Yavapai said.
     
    “Por Dios,”
said Sanchez in disgust, “it is a trail. He do not say it must be
today’s
trail. Let us eat.”
     
    Davis ignored breakfast himself and hurried his companions through the meal. By the time they were saddled and ready to ride, the rest of the gold seekers were already well into the thorny thickets of the Superstitions.
     
    “Where the hell
is
that trail?” Davis demanded.
     
    “The others have ridden over it,” said Yavapai.
     
    “Well, follow them,” Davis snarled.
     
    For three endless hours, Davis and his disgruntled companions struggled to penetrate the undergrowth of the Superstitions, eventually catching up to the frustrated men who had gone before them. The bunch sat in their saddles in silence, wiping sweaty faces on their shirtsleeves.
     
    “If you men can’t follow the trail,” Davis growled, “get out of the way and let us have it.”
     
    “It’s all yours,” said one of the disgusted men. “It’ll take you right to Saguaro