Chapter 6 JACK IS DESERTED.

Jack stood on the forsaken camping-ground, and the truth dawned slowly on him-his companions had gone on and left him behind! He noticed the still damp embers of the extinguished fire, and though there was every indication of their recent presence, not a sign could he see of the two men.

He was very indignant at this unkind way of treating him.

'That's Lem's doing,' he muttered. 'He's done it on purpose to spite me. I don't care much; they'll go very slow, an' I guess I can overtake them by night. I hope Jeff will be right again by then.'

All the same, it gave him a feeling of forlornness to know he was absolutely alone on the prairie. He felt very hungry, and of course there was nothing to eat, as all the provisions had gone on in the waggon.

How glad he now felt that he had a little money of his own-the precious packet Steve had given him. He took a quarter-dollar (about one shilling in our English money) out of his store and returned the rest to a safe place inside his shirt. He knew his road lay through the Mexican village, and decided to follow it, hoping to see a shop where he could buy some bread.

Lem and Jeff had picked up a few Mexican words, but, of course, Jack neither understood nor could speak any of the language. He lost no time in entering the village, trusting to make someone understand what he wanted; but he had not proceeded a couple of hundred yards up the main street of the place when he found himself surrounded by a crowd of Mexican boys, all shouting at him in a tongue he did not know.

He tried at first to show them he was hungry, by pointing to his mouth, but they only jeered and laughed, instead of helping him. He got out of patience at last, and endeavoured to make his way through the noisy band towards the centre of the village; but the boys pushed him back each time, evidently thinking it great sport to tease an unprotected little lad.

Jack appealed in English to two Mexican men who were lounging near, but they seemed to enjoy watching the group of cruel boys tormenting him. Jack was no coward, although he was so young, and after receiving a hard push from a bigger boy than himself, he lost his temper, and hit his opponent a good blow between the eyes.

This was the signal for a general outburst. The Mexicans are a fierce, passionate race, and the boys retaliated on poor Jack by all setting on him at once. Jack fought hard, and dealt out many a telling blow; but they were too many and strong for him, and at last he found himself being hustled out of the village where he had entered it, while his tormentors formed a long line to prevent his coming in again. Bleeding and bruised, Jack felt too worn out and faint from hunger and the fight to attempt another tussle with the enemy, so, like a wise boy, he deemed 'discretion the better part of valour,' and skirting the village, he recommenced his weary trudge along the road leading towards the mountains.

"JACK FOUGHT HARD, BUT THEY WERE TOO MANY FOR HIM."

The range loomed up at no great distance in front of him, and the peaks towered up so high, they seemed to pierce the bright blue sky. But as the afternoon lengthened, Jack noticed that the sky was assuming a very threatening aspect. Big clouds came rolling up over the mountains, making them look almost black in the shadow. Jack went on bravely, hoping to reach some place of shelter before the storm broke, but it was getting rapidly darker, and his heart began to sink at the prospect ahead.

Blacker and blacker it grew around him. Bright flashes of lightning shot from the murky clouds, followed by loud, crashing thunder, which shook the ground, and echoed and re-echoed through the rocky ca?ons. In a short time Jack was in the midst of a bad specimen of a Rocky Mountain thunderstorm, and no shelter near him. The poor lad was terrified, and crouched near the ground, while the lightning played about him and the thunder roared overhead.

'Oh, dear! oh, dear! I'm so frightened!' cried the little fellow; and then he remembered his mother's words: 'Ask God to take care of us until we meet again'-an injunction he had followed every day since she left. Now he knelt down and prayed to God, Who rules the storms, asking Him to send him help and keep him safe, and he felt comforted in his fear. Soon the rain began to come down in torrents, and Jack was quickly drenched to the skin. The rain, however, broke the power of the storm, and before long the thunder-clouds rolled away and the sky began to clear.

Chilled to the bone and tired out, Jack rose from his crouching position and moved on again, not knowing whither he was going. He had wandered off the road, and was aimlessly walking on over the prairie.

He began to feel very queer. First he shivered, and his teeth chattered with cold, and a few minutes after he was burning hot all over. His head ached and throbbed as if it would burst, and at times a feeling of giddiness came over him. He tried to think what direction he ought to move in, but everything was buzzing and humming in his brain. He thought he heard people shouting after him, and suddenly imagined he could distinguish his Uncle Mat's harsh voice calling him. How it seemed to ring through his head! It struck terror into his weak, over-strained mind, and he rushed on wildly into the gathering darkness. Poor Jack! It was only the fatigue and hunger, combined with the soaking he had endured, that was bringing on an attack of fever, and all these pursuing noises were purely imaginary. He ran on, trying to get away from the mocking sounds, which seemed to grow louder and nearer every minute.

'They'll catch me, I'm feared,' he moaned in an agony of mind as he tore on, but suddenly his headlong career was stopped. His foot tripped, and he fell heavily, knocking his head against a stone.

'Oh! Mother, Mother, save me!' he shrieked; 'he'll get me and take me back!' And the next moment he lost all consciousness.

In the meantime our readers may wonder how it came to pass that Jeff had deserted his little friend, and in order to tell you I must go back to the time when Jack left the camp to look for the horse. Soon after he had set out for the clump of trees, Lem had saddled Yankee Boy, and after riding a few miles, came upon Nigger, whom he at once secured and brought back to camp. He then harnessed up the four horses ready to start, and as Jack did not return, he grew very impatient, and while idling about doing nothing an evil thought took possession of him. What a good opportunity he had now to pay off an old score against Steve Byrne by leaving Jack behind! It was a cruel thing to think of doing, but Lem was an unprincipled fellow who cared little who suffered as long as he got his revenge.

He quickly finished his preparations for starting, the last being to hoist Jeff into the waggon, where he immediately dozed off again, quite unconscious of what was going on. All day he remained half-stupefied, and as Lem drove the horses a long way before making a halt, it was not far off evening when Jeff discovered what had happened.

The indignation it roused in him cleared his torpid brain as if by magic.

'D'ye mean to say as you've been and left the young un behind?' he demanded.

'That's so,' returned Lem coolly; 'I found as he'd been at some tricks, so I guessed we'd get rid of him. I sent him to look for Nigger, and skipped out afore he got back.'

'I don't believe it,' declared Jeff. 'Jack wasn't a kid to play tricks, and I call it a crying shame to desert him. You daren't have done it if I'd known what was goin' on. I blame mysel' for it most, and I'm agoing right back to look for him.'

'Eat your supper first, man, and don't be a fool,' said Lem, somewhat staggered at Jeff's concern over his desertion of Jack; but the miner heeded him not. He mounted one of the tired horses and rode all the weary way back to the place they had camped at, but not a sign did he see of the boy. On the way he endured the whole of the awful storm, which he hardly noticed. In his anxiety he pressed on, arriving late in the Mexican village, where he made inquiries, but received such purposely conflicting answers to his questions about the way the boy had gone, that he got quite confused, and in the end had to turn back and retrace his steps. He stopped at short intervals to shout, but no reply came out of the darkness, and at last he got back to the waggon utterly wearied out, and as unhappy as a man could be.

Lena's surly voice sounded out from the blankets asking, 'Well, I suppose you've got the precious kid all right, haven't you?'

'No, I haven't,' returned Jeff savagely; 'and I'm feared as he's come to grief somewhere, for there ain't a house 'twixt here and the village for him to shelter in. I'll never forgive mysel' nor you either for this day's work, and the sooner we part company the better I'm pleased. I knew you were a cranky chap, but I didn't reckon ye were as mean as this.'

Lem angrily growled out something about making such a fuss over a bit of a kid, but poor Jeff's conscience was at work, and he blamed himself over and over again for Jack's misfortune.

'It's the drink that has done it,' he murmured, 'and I swear I'll never touch another drop again as long as I live. But that won't bring back the little lad,' he went on sadly to himself, 'and I'm scared as a night up so high 'll kill him, with nothing to keep him warm, for it gets terrible cold towards daybreak.'

Jeff could not sleep. He tossed about, listening to Lem's deep breathing.

'I promised to see to him, and I might have known Lem wasn't to be trusted. He did it for spite, I'm pretty sure, and nothin' else,' he argued to himself; and he was right, as we already know.

He and Lem parted company on the first opportunity, and certain it was, from the day Jack was lost, Jeff was a changed man. He kept his word, and never touched a drop of drink. It was no easy matter to break off a long-indulged habit, but when he found the desire for it growing too strong, and felt inclined to yield to the temptation, he would think of little Jack sitting by the camp fire singing his hymns, and as the bright face of the boy rose before him, it would break the evil spell and the longing for drink would pass away. He stayed about for some days, hoping to hear something of Jack, but he was obliged at last to believe that in all human probability the boy had died of exposure on the prairie.

'We may never know for certain,' said he, 'but I'm feared as his mother 'll never see him again, for I think he's dead.'