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THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS

OR

Trailing The Yaquis



By

WILLARD F. BAKER



Author of "The Boy Ranchers," "The Boy Ranchers In Camp," "The Boy
Ranchers on The Trail," etc.




ILLUSTRATED



NEW YORK

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY




COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY


THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS




CONTENTS


CHAPTER

I COMPANY COMING
II THE TELEGRAM
III "GET READY, BOYS!"
IV ON THE TRAIL
V ROSEMARY AND FLOYD
VI PRISONERS
VII INTO THE MOUNTAINS
VIII SHOOTING STARS
IX A LONE INDIAN
X SHOTS FROM AMBUSH
XI THE SURPRISE
XII FORWARD AGAIN
XIII WEARY CAPTIVES
XIV SURROUNDED
XV WITH THE TROOPERS
XVI INDIAN "SIGN"
XVII AN ALARM
XVIII SEPARATED
XIX THE FIGHT
XX THE WHITE FLAG
XXI THE TRICK DISCOVERED
XXII ANXIOUS HOURS
XXIII THE LAST STAND
XXIV THE RUSE OF ROSEMARY
XXV "ALL'S WELL!"




THE BOY RANCHERS AMONG THE INDIANS


CHAPTER I

COMPANY COMING

High and clear the sweet, western wind brought over the rolling hills
the sound of singing. At least it was singing of a sort, for there was
a certain swing and rhythm accompanying the words. As the melody
floated toward them, three young cowboys, seated at ease in their
saddles, looked up and in the direction of the singer.

Thus the song.

"Oh, bury me out on th' lonesome prairie!
Put a stone under my haid!
Cover me up with a rope an' a saddle!
'Cause why? My true-love is daid * * * * * *"


It is impossible in cold print to indicate the mournful and
long-drawn-out accent on the word "dead," to rhyme with head.

"Here comes Slim!" exclaimed one of the youthful cow punchers to his
companions.

"As if we didn't know that, Dick!" laughed the slighter of two lads
who, from their close resemblance, could be nothing less than brothers.

"His voice doesn't improve with age; does it, Nort?" asked Bud Merkel,
smiling at his cousins, Norton and Richard Shannon.

"But he means well," declared Nort with a chuckle. "Oh, you Slim!" he
shouted, as a tall lanky individual, mounted on a pony of like
proportions, ambled into view, topping a slight rise of the trail.
"Oh, you Slim!"

The older cowboy--a man, to be exact--who had been about to break forth
into the second, or forty-second verse of his song (there being in all
seventy-two stanzas, so it doesn't much matter which one is
designated)--the older cowboy, I say, paused with his mouth open, and a
blank look on his face. Then he grinned--that is the only word for
it--and cried:

"Well, I'm a second cousin to a ham sandwich! Where'd you fellows come
from?"

"We haven't come--we're just going!" laughed Bud. "We're going over to
see Dad and the folks. How are they all?"

"Oh, they're sittin' pretty! Sittin' pretty!" affirmed Slim Degnan,
with a mingled smile and grin. "How'd you fellows come out with your
spring round-up?"

"Pretty fair," admitted Bud. "A few steers short of what we figured
on, but that's nothing."

"I should say not!" chuckled Slim. "Your paw was a heap sight worse
off'n that."

"Rustlers again?" asked Nort quickly, as he and his brother glanced at
one another. They had not forgotten the stirring times when they were
on the trail of the ruthless men who had raided Diamond X ranch, and
their own cattle range.

"No, nothin' like that," answered Slim easily. "Just natural
depravity, so to speak. Some of 'em ate loco weed and others jest got
too tired of livin' I reckon. But we come out pretty fair. Just got
th' last bunch shipped, an' I'm mighty glad of it."

"Same here!" spoke Dick. "That's why we came over here--on a sort of
vacation."

"I reckon some other folks is headin' this way on th' same sort of
ideas," remarked Slim Degnan, as he rolled a cigarette with one hand, a
trick for which the boys had no use, though they could but admire the
skill of the foreman.

"What do you mean?" asked Bud. "Is Dad going to take a vacation? If
he does--"

"Don't worry, son! Don't worry!" laughed Slim, as he ignited a match
by the simple process of scratching the head with his thumb nail.
"Cattle will have to fetch a heap sight more'n they do now when he
takes a few days off," declared the foreman. "What I meant was that
some tenderfeet individuals are headin'--"

Slim did not finish the sentence for he was nearly thrown from his
saddle (something most unusual with him) as his pony gave a sudden leap
to one side, following a peculiar noise in a bunch of grass on which
the animal almost stepped.

The noise was not unlike that made by a locust in a tree on a hot day,
but there was in the vibrations a more sinister sound. And well did
Slim's horse know what it indicated.

"A rattler!" yelled Bud, and close on the heels of his words followed
action.

He whipped out his .45, there was a sliver of flame, a sharp crack at
which the three steeds of the trio of youthful cowboys jumped slightly,
and there writhed on the trail a venomous rattle-snake, its head now a
shapeless mass where the bullet from Bud's gun had almost obliterated
it.

"Whew! A big one!" exclaimed Slim, who had quickly gotten his pony
under control again, and turned it back toward the scene of action. It
spoke well for his ability that he had not lost his cigarette, and was
puffing on it, though the sudden leap of his steed, to avoid a bite
that probably would have meant death, had jarred the words from his
mouth.

"First of the season," added Bud, slipping his gun back into the
holster.

"Are they more poisonous then than at other times?" asked Nort.

"Guess there isn't much difference, son," affirmed Slim. "I don't want
to be nipped by one at any time. Much obliged, Bud," he said, easily
enough, though there was a world of meaning in his voice. "I shore
plum would hate to have to shoot Pinto, and that's what I'd a done if
that serpent had set its fangs in his leg."

"Why'd he shoot him?" asked Dick, for he and his brother, though far
removed from the tenderfoot class, were not wise to all western ways
yet.

"There isn't much chance for a horse after it's been bit deep by a
rattler," Bud explained. "Of course I don't say every horse that's
bitten will die, but it's harder to doctor them than it is a man. And
Slim meant he wouldn't want to see Pinto suffer."

"You're right there, Bud!" drawled Slim Degnan. "They do say this
new-fangled treatment is better'n whisky for snake bites, but I don't
reckon I want to chance it."

"The permanganate of potash is almost a sure cure for the ordinary
snake bite, if you use it in time," declared Bud. "But I don't know
that it would work after a _fer de lance_ set his fangs into you.
Anyhow I'm glad we haven't anything worse than rattlers and copperheads
around here."

"They're bad enough!" affirmed Slim, as he gave a backward glance
toward the still writhing form of the big rattler, which was now past
all power of doing harm.

The incident seemed to cause the foreman to forget what he had been
about to say when his horse shied, and the boy ranchers, by which title
is indicated Bud, Nort and Dick, did not attach enough importance to it
to cause them to question their companion. Yet what Slim had been
about to say was destined to have a great influence on their lives in
the immediate future, and was to cause them to ride forward into
danger. But then danger was nothing new to them.

"Well, things are right peaceful since we got rid of Del Pinzo and his
gang of greasers," observed Slim, as he rode on with the boys down the
trail that led to Diamond X ranch, the property of Bud's father.

"But I'm always worrying for fear they'll come back, or we'll have some
sort of trouble with our cattle," observed Dick. "It doesn't seem
possible that over at our Happy Valley ranch we'll be let alone to do
as we please."

"Don't cross a bridge until you hear the rattling of the planks!"
paraphrased Nort to his brother. "We're all right so far."

"Yes, things are sittin' right pretty for the present," declared Slim.
"Well, here we are," he added, as a turn of the trail brought them
within sight of the corrals and other parts of Diamond X ranch. "And
there's your folks," he added, as a woman and girl, standing in the
yard of a red ranch house, began to wave their hands to the boys.

"I see Dad!" exclaimed End.

"Where?" asked Nort.

"Over by the pony corral, talking to Yellin' Kid. Looks like Kid just
came in with the mail."

"He started after it when I rode out to look for a couple of strays,"
said Slim. "Beckon he jest come back. You boys'll hear more
partic'lars now, I reckon."

"Particulars of what?" asked Nort. "Was that what you started to say
when Bud shot the rattler?"

Slim did not answer, the reason being that a moment later he was
surrounded by a knot of laughing, pushing, jostling and shouting
cowboys, who seemed to want the foreman to settle some disputed point.

Bud and his two cousin chums rode on and greeted Mr. Merkel and his
wife, who was "Ma" to every cowboy within fifty miles, and Nell, who
was Bud's pretty sister.

"Hello, Dad! Hello, Uncle Henry!" was the greeting. "Hello, Sis!"

"Got any pie, Nell?" added Bud.

"For Nort and Dick--yes," the girl answered. "But you won't want pie
when you hear--"

"Say, what's all this mysterious news?" broke out Bud. "First Slim
starts to tell us and then--"

"Rosemary and Floyd are coming!" merrily cried Nell.

"Rosemary and Floyd?" questioned Bud.

"Your cousins, or, to be more exact, your second cousins," explained
Mrs. Merkel. "We had a letter last week saying they might come on from
California, and now your father has just had a special delivery letter,
saying they're on their way. They'll be here any time."

"Company's coming! Company's coming!" joyously sang Nell, for she was
delighted with the news.

"Rosemary and Floyd," repeated Bud, "I don't seem--"

"You haven't seen them in some years," his mother said. "But I'm sure
you'll like them."

"Especially Rosemary," laughed Nort, and Nell stuck out her tongue at
him.

"Well, I'm glad they didn't come until after the spring round-up,"
spoke Mr. Merkel, looking at a letter he held. "We'll have more time,
now, to be with 'em and show 'em around. I wonder--"

But, as in the case of Slim, he did not finish what he started to say,
for there came an interruption, in its way almost as sinister as the
whirring of the rattle-snake's tail.

Toward the ranch buildings came the sound of rapidly galloping hoofs,
and as they all looked in the direction of the sound they saw, riding
in toward them, one of the cowboys.

"It's Old Billee Dobb!" exclaimed Yellin' Kid in a voice that was, as
usual, unnecessarily loud. "Looks like rustlers were after him!"

But none rode in pursuit of the veteran cowpuncher, though he was
spurring his steed to its utmost.

"They've broke out!" he yelled as soon as he was within hearing
distance. "They've broke out! Scatter my watermelon seeds, but
they've broke out!"

"What has?" demanded Mr. Merkel. "Our steers?"

"No! The Yaquis!"

"Indians!" snapped out Bud.

"That's them, son! They've broke out--left the reservation, and
they're headed this way! Oh, rattle-snakes! Get your guns ready! The
Yaquis have broke out!"

The boy ranchers looked at each other and it can not be denied that
there was a joyous light in their eyes. Nell shrank closer to her
father, and Mr. Merkel reached over and placed his hand in reassuring
fashion on his wife's ample shoulder.

"Indians!" murmured Dick. "I wonder--"

"Sure we can help fight 'em!" exclaimed Nort, rightly guessing that
this was his brother's question.




CHAPTER II

THE TELEGRAM

While the wind fluttered in his hand the letter from Rosemary, telling
of her plans to visit Diamond X with her brother, and while Mr. Merkel
looked anxiously at Billee Dobb on his panting steed, a far-off look
was in the eyes of the ranchman. Bud thought he knew what his father's
air portended, and he was eager to speak, but he, as well as the
others, felt the tenseness of the situation, and waited for what might
come next.

Nell was about to speak, to voice her gladness that a girl companion
was to come to the ranch, when Mr. Merkel remarked:

"How come you heard all this, Bill--I mean about the Yaquis? None of
it filtered here until you come up sweating lather!"

"I met one of the deputy sheriffs in town," explained the veteran cow
puncher. "He'd just got a telegraph message tellin' him to be on the
lookout, as the redskins might be headed this way."

"Whoop-ee!" yelled Bud, flapping his hat down on his pony's flank,
thereby causing the animal to leap sideways. "Think of it! Indians!
Whoop-ee!"

"It's dreadful!" murmured Ma Merkel. "I don't like to think about it!"

"But, Aunt, we have to think of it if the Yaquis are coming this way,"
spoke Nort. "We want to think of it to protect you and Nell!"

"That's right!" added Dick, while some of the cowboys grinned at the
eagerness and impetuosity of the boys.

"Shucks!" exclaimed Mrs. Merkel, getting back her nerve. "Those Yaquis
are nothing more than a lot of Greasers, anyhow. They'll turn home at
the first sight of a few of the sheriff's posse. I don't believe I'll
worry after all."

"That's right!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "No need to worry when the bunch
from Happy Valley joins with the Diamond X outfit! We're a match for
all the Yaquis that never washed!"

"Let's don't be too sure of that, boys," cautioned Mr. Merkel. "What
more did you hear, Billee Dobb? Is it at all serious? How many of the
imps broke loose?"

"That I don't know, there's enough of 'em to make the government take
action. Some of the regular troops have received orders to move, and
they're on their way now. If there were only a scattered few of the
Yaquis, Uncle Sam wouldn't be so anxious. They've raided one Arizona
town, I heard."

"They have!" cried Nort, Dick and Bud in a breath.

"Why this must have happened several days ago," exclaimed Mr. Merkel.
"The Yaquis are quartered some distance from here, and news doesn't
travel as fast as all that. How do you account for it, Billee?"

"Well, the fellow who told me got his information from one of those
scavengers," explained Billee.

"_Scavengers_!" cried Bud.

"Yes, you know--one of them fellers that go up in flyin' machines,"
explained the old cow puncher.

"Oh, you mean _aviators_!" exploded Bud, trying not to laugh.

"Well, something like that, yes," admitted Billee. "Word of the rising
of the Indians was sent out by wireless, and some of the flying
machines were ordered to the border. One of 'em who was flying around
here had tire trouble, or something like that, and had to come down.
It was from him the boys back in town got some of the news, and the
deputy sheriff gave out the rest.

"Oh, the Yaquis are risin' up all right, and they may come out here. I
rode over like a prairie fire to let you folks know. We've had trouble
enough here at Diamond X and I didn't want any more."

"Much obliged to you, Billee," said Mr. Merkel. "Did you happen to
hear what town it was in Arizona that the Yaquis raided?"

"It was La--La--wait a minute now. It was one of those crazy Spanish
names. I'll tell you--La--La--La Nogalique--that's it!"

"La Nogalique!" cried Mr. Merkel, and he looked at the letter from
Rosemary.

"That's her!" affirmed the cowboy.

"Why--why!" exclaimed the ranchman, "that's the way they were
coming--in their auto! La Nogalique! They might have been there--"

"Who were coming?" asked his wife quickly.

"Rosemary and Floyd; They'd be there just about--when was that raid,
Billee Dobb?" cried Mr. Merkel.

"Last Friday!"

The ranchman whistled.

"That's bad!" he murmured. "Bad!"

"Would Rosemary and her brother have reached there by then?" asked Mrs.
Merkel.

"Just about," her husband replied slowly. "Just about! This looks
bad! Boys, we've got to do something! Those Yaquis may just be off on
a little harmless jamboree, or they may be excited by a lot of their
Medicine Men, or whatever they call 'em! Once let 'em get on the
rampage, half Mexicans as they are, and we won't know what to expect!
It looks bad! I'm glad the round-up is over. It gives us time. Boys,
I think--"

But what he thought Mr. Merkel did not disclose--at least for the time
being. The attention of all was again attracted by the sound of rapid
hoofbeats, and, looking toward the trail that led to town, a horseman
was seen riding toward Diamond X. By the manner of his approach it was
easily assumed that he came on no ordinary errand.

"More news of the Indians, or I miss my guess!" murmured Bud.

And while the solitary horseman is rapidly approaching, I will endeavor
to imitate his speed in acquainting my new readers with a little of the
past history concerning the boy ranchers as they have played their
parts in the previous books of this series.

The initial volume is entitled "The Boy Ranchers," and tells how Nort
and Dick Shannon went to visit their cousin, Bud Merkel, on the ranch
of the latter's father. This ranch, Diamond X, was in a western state,
not far from the Mexican border. And, as you know, the Yaqui Indians
were, in the main, a tribe of Mexican Redmen, who made their home
partly in the Land of Montezuma and partly in Arizona, as best pleased
them. Efforts were made by the Mexican Government to keep the Yaquis
on a reservation, but the efforts were not always successful.

Mr. Merkel was a ranchman of experience, and planned to have his son
follow in his footsteps. This Bud was eager to do, and when his
cousins came he saw a chance for them to get into the cattle raising
business on their own account.

This they did, but not before they had solved a strange mystery
centering about Diamond X. As you may recall, the ranch was named
after the brand used to mark its cattle--an X within a diamond outline.

The mystery solved, the boy ranchers turned their attention to other
matters, and these are related in the second volume, "The Boy Ranchers
In Camp." Mr. Merkel, by using an ancient underground water course
beneath Snake Mountain, had brought much-needed moisture to a distant
valley he owned, thus making it possible to use it as a place for
raising cattle. This new ranch, variously called Happy Valley, Diamond
X Second, and Buffalo Wallow, was given in charge of the boys to
experiment with. They were allowed to raise cattle on their own
responsibility. Without water Diamond X Second was out of the
question. And the story in the second book has to do with the efforts
of Del Pinzo, a dangerous character, and others, to drive away the
boys. There was a fight over water rights, and another desperate
fight, involving some strange ancient secrets.

The third book, "The Boy Ranchers on the Trail," deals with the boy
ranchers after they have become full-fledged "cow punchers." So
successful were they in Happy Valley that they incurred the enmity of
Del Pinzo and his followers. Cattle rustlers stole many valuable
steers from Bud and his cousins, and it was not until after a desperate
encounter that the unscrupulous men were defeated.

Then, for a time, peace settled down over Diamond X and the boys'
ranch. The spring round-up was over, and a successful year begun, when
the ordinary course of events was interrupted in the manner I have set
down in the beginning of this book--by news that the Yaquis had risen.

All eyes were turned on the solitary horseman, who rode fast on the
heels of Billee Dobb. As this rider came nearer, it could be seen that
a paper fluttered in his hand.

"Special delivery letter, maybe," ventured Dick.

"Maybe," admitted Bud.

"I--I have a feeling that it's bad news," murmured Mrs. Merkel to Nell.

"Maybe not," Bud's sister whispered. "It may be only a rush order for
cattle to be shipped.

"All that were fit have been shipped," her mother said. "I'm
afraid--I'm afraid--"

With a shower of gravel, scattered by the sliding feet of his
hastily-reined pony, the man drew up in front of the group.

"Mr. Henry Merkel here?" he asked, crisply.

"Here," said Bud's father, quietly.

"Got a telegraph message for you. It's from La Nogalique!"

"La Nogalique!" murmured Mr. Merkel. "Oh, I hope Rosemary--"

With a rapid motion Mr. Merkel tore open the yellow envelope.




CHAPTER III

"GET HEADY, BOYS!"

Anxiously the boy ranchers and the others watched the face of the
stockman as he read the message. It was rather lengthy, which
accounted for the somewhat protracted time it took Mr. Merkel to get at
the meaning of the words. But when he had read to the end he passed
the missive to his wife, exclaiming, as he did so:

"Couldn't be much worse!"

"Are they killed?" cried Nell, clasping her hands.

"No, but maybe they'd better be," grimly answered her father.
"Rosemary and Floyd are carried off by the Yaquis!" he added.

"How do you know?"

"Does the message say so?"

"Which way did they go?"

These were the questions, fired in rapid succession, by Bud, Nort and
Dick.

"That information's in the telegram," explained Mr. Merkel. "The
message is to me from the Sheriff of La Nogalique, or at least from
some one in his service, for it's signed with his name. I know him,
slightly."

"Did he see Rosemary and Floyd carried off?" Dick wanted to know.

"Not exactly. But wait. I'll read it so you may all hear," said Mr.
Merkel, taking the missive from his wife's trembling hand. "Old Hank
Fowler didn't try to get it all in ten words so we have a pretty fair
idea of what went on. Reckon he knew he didn't have to pay for that
message. It come out of the county funds I take it. Listen to this,
boys!"

Mr. Merkel read:

"'I regret to inform you that some relatives of yours were carried off
in the last raid of the Yaquis here. The Indians came over the border
from Mexico and shot up this place (La Nogalique). I was away, but
some of the boys give them a fight, and drove them off. But they took
with them some guns, cattle, what money they could steal and a young
lady and gentleman who claim to know you. The way it happened was
this. This young lady, named Rosemary Boyd, and her brother Floyd,
came here in an auto, from California. They give it out they were on
their way to Diamond X. But they hadn't more than reached town than
the Yaquis came in and shot things up.

"'The Indians took this young couple, and it was owing to the pluck of
the girl that we knew what happened.'"

"Good for Rosemary!" cried Nell. "How did it happen?"

"I'm coming to it," her father said, having paused to get his breath.
It was dry work, talking so much and under the stress of excitement,
and Nell had broken in on him.

"'As the Indians were riding away, with this young lady and her
brother,'" the message went on, "'she managed to scribble something on
a piece of paper she tore from a note book. She tossed it to one of
the cowboys who was shot in fighting the Yaquis. He brought the girl's
message to me after the fight, when I'd sent some of my men to trail
the devils. This is what the message said, and I'm sending the actual
message to you by mail. "Get word to my uncle, Henry Merkel, Diamond X
Ranch, that Floyd and I are taken. Ask him to send help." That's what
the message said and I'm doing as requested. I've sent all the help I
can, but the Yaquis got the start on us, owing to the fact that I was
out of town with a posse after rustlers. But we'll get that girl and
boy back or bust every leg we've got, Mr. Merkel. And you can send on
help if you want to and join us.'"

The lengthy message was signed with the name "Hank Fowler," and when
the reading was finished, Mr. Merkel glanced around at his listeners.

"These young folks are some kin of yours, I take it?" asked Old Billee
Dobb.

"Sure," assented the ranchman. "More of my wife's than mine, but it's
all the same. They were coming here on a visit, coming all the way
from California by auto. I thought it was rather risky when they first
wrote of it, but my wife says Rosemary is a good driver, and Floyd
almost as good."

"Is he a Westerner?" asked Yellin' Kid.

"Not born and raised here," said Mr. Merkel, "but Floyd is no
tenderfoot, and as for Rosemary--"

"She's a whole can of peaches! That's what she is!" cried Bud. "To
have the nerve to stop and scribble a message to dad when the Yaquis
had her and her brother. Clear grit I call that!"

"Sure thing!" assented Nort.

"Gee! I wish I'd been there!" sighed Dick.

"What! To be captured by the Indians and made into sausage meat?"
joked Mr. Merkel, for at times they poked a bit of fun at Dick on
account of his plumpness. Though, truth to tell, he was now not too
stout, and the life of the west had greatly hardened him.

"They wouldn't have caught me without a fight!" he bruskly declared.

"That's right! A fight!" cried Bud. "What are we going to do about
this, Dad? We can't let our cousins be carried off this way; can we,
fellows?" he demanded of his boy rancher companions.

"I should say not!" was the instant response, duet fashion.

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