21 A Signal from Bonneau
Our mine at last began to show signs of exhaustion, but that fact brought to us no affliction. We were not grasping after the whole world, and there was enough gold for us all stored in our hut. We had begun to talk of our departure for San Francisco, when one morning all of us except Bonneau left for the mine. The Frenchman excelled the remainder of us so much as a housekeeper that it usually fell to his part to remain at the hut, an arrangement in which he acquiesed with willingness.
We had thrown off our coats and were absorbed in our labors when we were aroused by the report of a rifle shot. Pike started up, alarm stamped on his face. “Didn’t that shot come from the hut?” he exclaimed. “Undoubtedly,” replied Mr. Sheldon. Even as the latter spoke, there was the sound of a half-dozen reports, coming like a ragged volley. We looked at each other, and Pike uttered the thought which had come instantly to the minds of all of us:
“Halftrigger!”
A rifle-shot was to be the signal for help from whomsoever might be on guard in case danger came, and we had no doubt that the first report was intended as such by Bonneau. The human mind is a curious thing, and we felt little surprise when we heard the sound of this shot, though our success in finding the gold had caused us to forget Halftrigger and his band for the time.
“Grab your guns, boys, an’ come on!” cried Pike. We had never neglected to bring our rifles and pistols with us, and they were lying on the bank only a few feet away. We seized them and, led by Pike, ran towards the house. We were much alarmed. We feared both for Bonneau and the safety of our gold. What if the desperadoes had killed or captured Bonneau, seized the hut and now held all our treasure!
Our view of the hut was cut off by the shoulder of the hill, and we slackened speed before coming into view, in order that we might avoid an ambush. Pike stole forward, made a brief reconnoissance and returned with news that the coast was clear. Then we ran to the top of the hill and found nobody in sight.
The hut appeared to be undisturbed, and nowhere in the vicinity were there indications of intruders. For all we saw, Bonneau might have been inside the hut, peacefully engaged in his cooking. But we knew the shots meant something serious, and were not deceived by these appearances of quiet.
“What do you think of it?” asked Mr. Sheldon of Pike.
“Either they’ve taken Bonneau an’ the hut,” said Pike, “an’ are waitin’ inside fur us to come up whar they kin plunk us, or Bonneau has fortified himself in thar, hevin’ druv ’em off. But we’ll find out mighty soon. I think we kin go a little closer without comin’ in range uv the hut.”
Obeying the suggestion, we walked forward. The grass was rather thick and long at this place, and as I was watching the hut for movements there I stumbled against something and barely saved myself from a fall. I turned to see what the obstacle was, and beheld the face of a dead man upturned in the grass. The others, attracted by the noise of my stumble, had seen the ghastly object at the same moment.
I recognized the face of one of Halftrigger’s men. There was a bullet-hole through the forehead, and the body was still warm.
“I guess this is Bonneau’s work,” said Pike. “The Frenchmen must hev been outside an’ some distance from the hut when he saw ’em comin’. I didn’t think he wuz sech a good shot.”
There was a loaded pistol in the man’s belt, and Pike took it out and put it into his own pocket, saying he would probably find use for it. Then we turned our attention once more to the hut. We watched it for many minutes, but we could discover no signs of life. We could see that the rude door which we had made was tightly closed, and we were sure the place was not without a tenant. But which, Bonneau or the desperadoes?
Our position was in some respects unfortunate. The cabin stood about two-thirds of the way up the slope. The crest of the hill was wooded. Riflemen could easily lie concealed there and spread themselves out in such a manner that we could not approach the cabin without exposing ourselves to their fire, granting that such men were concealed there. Thus whether in the house or on the hill they held us at an advantage.
“If Bonneau is in there we ought to let him know of our presence,” said Mr. Sheldon.
“Yes, ef he’s thar,” said Pike, “but ef he isn’t thar an’ our enemies are thar instead, ’taint wuth while fur us to make ourselves marks fur thar bullets. No, we’ve got to wait fur a sign uv some kind.”
The situation was most puzzling, and there was nothing to do but wait. Waiting is a trying business at best, and it was almost unbearable now as our anxiety about Bonneau and our gold was increasing. We lay in the long grass, which concealed us very well. Pike scouted about a bit, but there was not enough grass and undergrowth for him to approach either the hut or the crest of the hill to see whether the enemy were concealed in either place.
We lay for two or three hours, staring at the hut and the trees beyond until our eyes grew weary. During all this time there was a silence that oppressed us. The cabin stood in the opening, as innocent in appearance as if it had never harbored anything that savored of danger. We expected to see a gun muzzle thrust now and then from a loophole, but no such sight greeted our eyes.
“Suppose, they have killed Bonneau and taken the treasure and gone?” suggested Henry.
“’Tain’t possible,” said Pike. “They never could hev gethered up the mules an’ our gold an’ hev got away so quick and so clean after the firin’ uv them shots.”
“But the mules are gone,” said Henry.
This was a fact. They usually grazed on the grass near the hut, and they had seemed so much content with their surroundings that we had ceased to tether them. But they were gone now.
“The gang is here, shore,” said Pike emphatically; “either in the cabin or on the hill. The mules may hev been skeered by the shots an’ run away. Besides bein’ so much stronger than we are in number, I don’t think that crowd would run away, even ef all the gold had been packed on the backs uv the mules waitin’ fur ’em. I think I’ll try the old hat trick an’ see ef anythin’ will come uv it. It kain’t hurt nuthin’ anyway.”
He crawled considerably nearer to the cabin, put his hat on the muzzle of his gun-barrel and thrust it up until the crown showed above the grass. It remained exposed within fair rifle-shot of the cabin for a full minute, but there was no response. No shot was fired. No gun-muzzle showed through the loopholes. Pike showed the hat again and again, but the result was always the same. Finally he came back to us and expressed his disgust at his failure.
“It leads me to believe that the cabin is deserted,” said Mr. Sheldon, “and that the bandits have gone with our gold.”
“No, no,” said Pike earnestly. “You are mistaken. Thar’s somebody in thet cabin, but whether it’s Bonneau or Halftrigger’s gang is more’n I kin tell. Ef it’s Bonneau he thought the hat was on the head uv one uv the gang, an’ concluded to save hisself fur a rush. He’s got everythin’ to gain by waitin’, fur he knows we’ll come to his help. But ef the gang is in thar they don’t want to warn’us, but are waitin’ fur us to come up. No, we mustn’t take sech a risk ez to walk up to that cabin door, turnin’ ourselves into targets ez easy to shoot et ez a barn. I guess we’ll hev to wait fur night now, an’ that won’t be so very long.”
The sun was about three hours high and we had made up our minds that there would be no developments until it went down behind the hills. Acting upon that supposition, we sought as comfortable positions as we could find in the grass, though we were on our guard to prevent the silent approach of an enemy.
We were resting thus when Pike told us to look closely at the cabin.
“Thar’s somethin’ movin’ on the roof,” he said.
The roof of the cabin was nothing but bark and thin canvas. It could hardly support a man’s weight, and we did not believe that any one would be so bold as to thrust his head through. Consequently we awaited developments with eagerness.
Something that looked like the end of a stick was projecting through the roof, and was being twisted about in a queer fashion, as if an effort were being made to enlarge the aperture. This effort became a success, for suddenly an object shot high above the roof and remained stationary. Pike uttered a low whistle and followed it with an exclamation:
“Wa’al, I’ll be darned!”
A pole projected about ten feet above the roof. To the end of the pole was tied a piece of white cloth about a foot square and about six inches below was fastened another piece of cloth of about the same size. A slight wind blew out the small pieces of cloth, and they fluttered like streamers at a masthead. In an upper corner of the first strip were daubed a number of spots, and horizontal stripes were drawn in the remainder of the space.
The lower strip as we could see when the wind fluttered it out, was made of three separate pieces of clothing. The top piece was red, the middle one white and the lower one blue.
“What in thunder does it mean?” asked Pike.
Henry was laughing and we turned to him in wonderment.
“Why, don’t you see?” he replied. “It’s Bonneau holding the fort and he’s telling us so. That strip of cloth at the top is the stars and stripes, or, rather, an attempted imitation of it. The strip, below it is the red, white and blue, the tri-color, the flag of France. The red is a piece of Bonneau’s handkerchief, the blue is his hat lining, and I guess an undergarment furnished the white. Bully for Bonneau! He hasn’t got brains for nothing.”
“Why, it’s all explain ez the nose on your face, now that it’s explained,” said Pike.
“Since Bonneau has signalled us there is no reason why we should not signal back to him,” I said.
“How?” asked Pike.
“Why, as you did to me when I was a prisoner. There are five of us. Hoist our five hats where he can see them, and he is quick-witted enough to know what it means.”
We adopted this suggestion, raising all five of our hats in a row on our gun barrels. Before the hats were in sight a half minute the pole containing the flags was waved about and jerked up and down.
“He understands us and is applauding,” said Henry.
“Trust Bonneau!”
We took down the hats presently, and then the flags also disappeared. The experiment seemed conclusive to us, and we were greatly cheered, for we felt sure that Bonneau was alive and holding the fort and our gold with it.
“We must manage to join Bonneau in thar somehow,” said Pike, “fur the gold’s thar, and that’s what we’ve got to fight fur, and ef our enemies don’t’ know we are here they at least kin guess it, and they’ll try thar best to keep us out uv the house.”
The report of a rifle fired from the cabin interrupted Pike’s remarks. A whiff of smoke on the far side rose above the roof and floated away.
“That shot wuz fired towards the summit uv the hill,” said Pike. “Them outlaws are thar in the woods, shore.”
The truth of Pike’s assertion was confirmed instantly by several shots from the woods. We heard the bullets go kerplunk against the logs of the cabin. But Bonneau was content evidently with his single shot.
This demonstration was succeeded by complete silence. We sunk into easy attitudes again and awaited the coming of the night. But darkness was not far away now. The long shadows began to fall across the grass and the hills crept up between the earth and the sun. The outlines of the cabin grew indistinct, and soon the little fort was nothing but a darker blur in the darkness.
“We must try to creep up to the hut now,” said Pike, “but we must be awful keerful, boys, ’cause in the darkness Bonneau himself won’t know whether we are friends or enemies, and he might plunk one uv us with a bullet. Come along now, and don’t make any more noise than you kin help.”
Following Pike, we began to crawl on all fours towards the cabin, stopping at frequent intervals to listen for suspicious sounds. The darkness was now so heavy that we could not see the wood in which we supposed the outlaws had been concealed throughout the day. But Pike was uneasy, and expressed his fears in a whisper to me.
“I hope,” he said, “we hev started ahead uv our enemies. Like ez not they are creepin’ up on the cabin, too, and thar’s no tellin’ which will git thar fust. Be keerful, boys! Be keerful!”
We passed out of the stretch of grass and reached the space of earth in the centre of which the cabin stood. Additional caution now became necessary, and we crouched as close to the earth as was possible without entirely checking our forward movement. The darkness had increased, and although we were within a hundred feet of the cabin, it’s outlines were so faint that they would have escaped our notice altogether had we not known the cabin was there. We were not a hundred feet distant from it when Pike whispered: “Close up boys. We must keep mighty nigh each other in this darkness, ’specially as we may hev to make a rush fur it. We want to know our friends from our enemies. Come on in a bunch, now.”
We were huddled up like a covey of partridges. Nevertheless, we managed to make some progress. But the deep silence puzzled Pike and added to his uneasiness. After putting his ear to the ground and listening he whispered discontentedly:
“This is too easy and smooth to last. Knowin’ that we must be about somewhars, Halftrigger ain’t the kind uv man to go to sleep. I’d give one uv them bags uv gold to know what trick that feller is up to.”
But we were approaching the cabin and the cautious Pike ceased to whisper. Soon we were within twenty feet of the door, when Pike motioned to us to halt.
Evidently he was at a loss how to communicate with Bonneau. The cabin was not more than twenty feet away. I wondered what Bonneau was doing. His position was one of extraordinary difficulties. In the thick darkness it was possible for a wary enemy to come even to the cabin walls unseen by him. A violent attempt to burst the door might be the first warning to him of attack. I did not envy the Frenchman’s situation.
Pike, looking like a huge bullfrog, began to crawl towards the house again and we obediently followed. In five minutes we were able to reach out our hands and place them on the log walls. Before attempting to signal Bonneau Pike put his ear to the earth again and listened. I was closest to him, and when he raised his head he whispered to me:
“This hez been a close race, by the Eternal. I hear the voices uv men who are crawlin’ about on the other side uv the cabin, an’ uv course it’s them outlaws.”
This news was communicated quickly to the others, and all recognized how critical our position had become. If we made any noise in an attempt to attract the attention of Bonneau it would also be heard by the outlaws and bloodshed would follow. We pressed close against the logs and shrank into as small a space as possible. Fortunately, the darkness of the night and the shadow of the walls together were sufficient to conceal us from any one more than a few feet away.
I put my head to the ground, and though my ears had not the trained acuteness of Pike’s, I was now to hear a shuffling noise on the other side of the cabin, which I knew was made by men crawling about. Once or twice also I thought I heard whispers, but I was not sure. I wondered what Pike would do in this emergency. He was a man of many resources, but the danger was so threatening it could well prove too much even for the wisdom of Solomon.
Uttering a faint and slightly perceptible h-sh-sh as a warning for us to remain motionless, Pike began a snake-like creeping towards the corner. But he had got only a foot or two when another form appeared around the side of the hut. It was that of a man crawling on his hands and feet. He stopped when he saw Pike. Apparently we escaped his notice, as we lay in the shadow so close up against the cabin. Pike stopped also and began to make gestures with great vigor. He waved the man back, and his motions indicated some pressing reason why the other should retreat.
We could not see the man’s face, all except the outlines of his figure being hidden by the darkness, but he paused as if impressed by Pike’s actions. I thought Pike’s boldness and readiness caused him to mistake the hunter for his leader, Halftrigger, as the two men were nearly of a size, both being very large.
Seeing that he hesitated, Pike approached a little nearer to, the fellow and made very violent gestures. Then the man turned about and crept out of sight around the hut. Pike returned to us.
“I guess that feller saved his life when he went back roun’ the corner,” he whispered. “I’d made up my mind ef he found us out to blaze away at him with a pistol, holler to Bonneau to open the door and then hold the gang off with our weepins or die tryin’. But we kain’t wait any longer. Another feller may come pokin’ his nose ’roun’ the corner thar any minute and we mightn’t be able to fool him so easy.”
He crept to the door of the hut and, placing his powerful hand against it, shook it slightly. Then putting his mouth to a loophole, he whispered: “Bonneau! Bonneau! Open the door! It’s me, Pike, and your friends! Let us in! Hurry up! Hurry up!”
Though these words were in a whisper, they were uttered in a sharp, sibilant tone which an attentive listener in the hut could hardly fail to understand. In a moment, and to our great joy, the answer came:
“Eet ees all right! Bonneau knew you would not desert him and has been expecting you! When I unbar the door and open it, run in, jump in for your lives, for ze brigands are on ze ozzer side of ze house, and zey thirst for our blood and our gold!”
There was a slight rustling inside the hut, a sliding sound as the heavy bar was lifted out of place, and then the door—or, rather, shutter—was shoved aside. At the same moment a gigantic form appeared at the corner of the house. We had risen from our crouching posture and were in a group at the doorway, where we were no longer protected by the shadows.
“By the great hornspoon, it’s them!” cried the new-comer. “Come on, boys; wipe ’em out—every last son-of-a-gun!”
Halftrigger raised his pistol and fired point-blank at us. But the light was so bad that his bullet swished past us and buried itself in a log. I was nearest to him and threw up my rifle and fired a return shot, but a second man, who suddenly appeared around the corner, received the bullet, for he uttered a howl of pain, followed by a scorching curse.
Then the whole band came swarming upon us. There was a volley of shots, the thud of bullets, cries of pain and the sharp command of Pike, “Git in! Git in, ez quick ez you kin!” I heared Pike counting, “One, two, three, four,” All our party were inside except Pike and myself. I paused a moment, but the hunter seized me by the shoulder and fairly hurled me into the hut. Then he sprang lightly after me. There was a rush of feet close behind us, but instinctively reaching out in the darkness I seized one side of the heavy door, and as three or four of us grasped it at the same time, we threw it into place. But a dozen heavy bodies were slammed against it like a battering ram, and we were borne almost off our feet. Nevertheless, nerved by desperation and the knowledge of our great danger, we swung to the door and with a mighty effort pushed it back into place.
“The bar, Bonneau! Quick, quick; the bar!” cried Pike, “or they’ll beat us down!”
Never did I rejoice so much in my youthful strength as on that occasion. I set my heel against the floor and my back against the door and strained until my bones felt like cracking. Beside me the mighty form of Pike was pushing and heaving in an effort to bear up against the accumulated mass of the bandits.
“Shove, lads! Shove!” cried Halftrigger on the outside. “A good shove all together and down goes this door!”
“Hurry up, Bonneau! Hurry up with that bar!” cried Pike again. “Ef they push all together we kaint Hold the door!”
“Yes, Yes!” cried Bonneau, “but zee door is pushed in several inches and I cannot get ze bar in ze fastenings! You must push eet back!”
We made one more prodigious effort and bore the door back. Then the bar fell in its place, the door was tight and fast, and exhausted by our strain we sank panting on the floor.