Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 04 - Sudden Outlawed(1934) (21 page)

 
          
Sudden
shook his head. “Listen to me, seh,” he said earnestly. “That Black Bear is a
wise hombre an’ he’ll figure on us doin’ that very thing, which is why he
didn’t stay an’ fight it out; Comanches ain’t cowards, yu savvy. If they can
trap the outfit they get the herd easy.”

 
          
“To
hell with the herd,” Eden snapped. “I’d sooner lose every hoof than harm should
happen to Carol.”

 
          
“Shore,
but that ain’t the way to go about it,” the cowboy urged. “We gotta walk in the
water some.”

 
          
“He’s
right, boss,” Peg-leg put in. “Let Jim trail ‘em an’ see how things is.
No sense in runnin’ our heads into a yeller-jackets’ nest.”

 
          
The
old man gave a grudging assent; he knew they were advising him widely but his
fiery disposition, and the contempt of the frontier men for the redskin called
for something more aggressive; the thought of his girl at the mercy of those
painted devils filled him with fury.

 
          
Sudden’s
preparations were soon made. He decided to take the black, for if he could
liberate the captives, speed would be essential. He was mounting when Jeff rode
in; Sudden explained his errand.

 
          
“O’
course, it’s on the cards they’ll gather me in too,” he aid. “Then it’ll be up
to yu an’ the boys. I’ll leave a plain trail.”

 
          
The
foreman’s face was sombre. “It looks bad, Jim,” he said.
“Why
should they be so sot on gittin’ a white woman, huh?”

 
          
Sudden
did not reply to the question. He could have offered a reason, but he feared
the foreman would deem it fantastic. But his knowledge of redskin nature,
relentless and untiring in its pursuit of vengeance, told him that it was
possible.

 
          
Following
Sandy’s trail, his mind was busy with the idea he had forborne to mention to
the foreman. It had suggested itself when he learned the girl had been carried
off. The braves from whom he had rescued her on the day he had first ridden to
the S E had been Comanches, and there was a chance that they belonged to Black
Bear’s tribe. Had the one who escaped remained in the neighbourhood, watching
the preparations for the drive, following it day by day, waiting for the
‘opportunity to avenge his comrade? Sudden’s thoughts reverted to the moccasin
prints he had found when Eden was stricken down. No Indian had fired that shot,
but one might have been spying on the camp and driven away by the advent of the
assassin. The cowboy’s lips set grimly. If this theory was correct, the girl’s
peril was indeed dire.

 
          
He
experienced no difficulty in following the trail since neither pursuer nor
pursued had any other thought than speed. The deeper indentations of the animal
carrying the double burden could be distinguished. The tracks led him towards a
forest of pines, the plumed heads of which shut out the sun. He paused for a
moment and pulled out a pistol before plunging into the shadowy depths. The
ghostly, bared trunks of the trees, rank after rank, were most of them large
enough to conceal a lurking enemy. An ideal spot, the cowboy decided, for an
ambush.

 
          
He
had not gone far when his intuition appeared to be justified. At a point where
the foliage overhead made the wood almost dark, he came upon evidence that a
struggle had taken place; the carpet of pine-needles had been violently
disturbed, and on the bole of a tree was a blotch of blood. Had Sandy caught
his man? Sudden did not think so—the indications suggested that it was the
other way about. A careful examination of the nearby tree-trunks showed that
the ground behind several was slightly flattened. Moreover, the trail of the
two horses continued on through the wood.

 
          
“That
hombre had it all planned out,” the cowboy muttered. “They were waitin’ here
for a pursuin’ party. Well, Sandy ain’t dead, seemin’ly, or they’d ‘a’ scalped
an’ left him.”

 
          
Somewhat
cheered by this reflection, he rode on, noting that the bloodstains recurred at
intervals. Presently he emerged from the timber and at once pulled up; an
increase in the hoofprints showed that other riders had joined the pair he was
following.

 
          
“The
ambushin’ braves picked up their hosses ‘bout here,” he surmised.
“Must be near a dozen of ‘em.
Nig, we gotta watch out.”

 
          
He
went on cautiously, keeping well away from any spot which offered a likely
hiding-place. But he had to take some risks, for the day was advancing and it
would be hopeless to follow the trail in the dark. A little later he came to a
narrow ravine littered with boulders, debris wrested by the weather from the
rock walls. Pacing slowly along, eyes alert for any sound or movement, he saw
something which brought an oath to his lips: lying face downwards at the side
of the gully was a bound and gagged man. Sudden slid from his saddle and turned
him over; it was Sandy. As he stooped to remove the gag a rope swished, he was
flung violently backwards, and a savage war-cry pealed out. Realizing that he
too had been tricked he grabbed at a gun but a crashing blow from behind robbed
him of reason.

 
          
WHEN
Sudden regained his senses his first impression was that someone was kicking
him on the head, but he soon realized that the throbbing jars he felt were the
result of the blow he had received. Lying on his back, his hands tied, he was
unable to find out the extent of the injury.

 
          
In
the semi-darkness he could see that he was inside a kind of inverted funnel and
knew it for an Indian tepee. Outside, the weird wail of a woman rose above the
barking of dogs and guttural voices of men.

 
          
“So
they got me,” he said aloud. “If my head didn’t hurt so much I’d say it was
solid bone. Wonder where Sandy is?”

 
          
“‘Lo,
Jim,” a low voice answered. “Yu come to life again?”

 
          
“No,
I’m dead from the neck up,” was the disgusted reply. “Of all the fools …”

 
          
“It
was neat, allasame,” Sandy consoled. “They knowed yu’d hop off to tend to
me—any fella would. All they had to do was squat behind the rocks an’ rope yu.
First time I ever figured as the bait in a trap.”

 
          
“Where’s
Miss Carol?”

 
          
“Right
here, wore out an’ sleepin’. What
d’yu reckon
they’ll
do to us, Jim?”

 
          
Sudden
was still sore in both body and mind. “Cuff our ears an’ tell us to be good
boys in future, don’t yu reckon?” was his sarcastic reply, and then, “Shucks,
we’ll find a way out.” After a pause, “There was blood on the trail; yu hurt?”

 
          
“No,
I winged one when they jumped me,” Sandy explained.

 
          
“Jeff
an’ the boys’ll search us out,” Sudden said.

 
          
“Don’t
bet on it. Soon after they collected yu the main bunch branched off, taking
yore hoss an’ mine. One brave reckoned on ridin’ the black but that pet o’
yores just planted both hind hoofs on his chest an’ if he ain’t stopped
breathin’ altogether, I’ll lay he’s findin’ it a painful process. After that,
they elected to lead him.”

 
          
“Nigger
don’t
like Injuns.”

 
          
“I’m
believin’ yu. Well, the rest of us struck a stream, waded down it for near half
a mile, an’ then went along a stony gulch where a herd o’ buffalo wouldn’t
leave a trace.”

 
          
Sudden
was silent; this put a different complexion on matters. The rescue party would
follow the prints of the shod horses and probably blunder into a trap just as
he and Sandy had done. The commotion outside increased in volume and other
wailing voices joined the first.

 
          
“Black
Bear’s band has got back an’ some more squaws have learned they are widders,”

 
          
Sudden
surmised.

 
          
There
was a slight movement in the gloom on the far side of the tepee; the noise had
awakened the third prisoner.

 
          
“Sandy,”
the girl whispered. “Did I hear Mister Green’s voice?”

 
          
“Shore,
I’m here, Miss Carol,” Sudden replied.

 
          
“Thank
heaven,” she said. “I feared you were—killed.” He trailed grimly into the
darkness; she did not realize that death might yet be a boon to crave for.
Still speaking in a low voice, she went on, “Mister Green, the Indian who
brought me here is the other—the one who got away.”

 
          
It
gave Sudden no pleasure to find that his conjecture had proved correct.
Affecting a jocularity he did not feel, he said: “Persevering beggar; we’ll
have to discourage him some.”

 
          
“I’m—scared,”
she confessed.

 
          
“Don’t
yu be,” he urged, and then lied nobly, “the boys’ll be along any time now an’
snake us outa this mess.”

 
          
His
confident tone was comforting and she uttered a sigh of relief; somehow she
felt that with these two men beside her, tied though they were, the situation
was not quite hopeless.

 
          
The
flap of the tent was flung aside and a savage, carrying a lighted pine-knot,
stalked in.

 
          
Of
medium height, his headdress of eagle-plumes and erect bearing made him appear
taller. He was young, less than thirty, Sudden estimated, and moved with the
agile sinuosity of a snake. On his bare breast the mask of a fox was crudely
pictured in red, and the streaks of paint on his face intensified its sinister
expression of cruelty. He shot one triumphant glance at the girl, strode across
to Sudden and stooped, thrusting the torch almost into the cowboy’s face. For
an instant he gazed and then a flash of ferocious joy illumined the dark eyes.

 
          
“Damnation,
he remembers me,” the captive reflected. “Trust an Injun for that.”

 
          
Spitting
out a few rapid sentences in his own tongue, the Indian, after testing the
bonds of all three, glided away.

 
          
“What
did he say?” Sandy thoughtlessly inquired.

 
          
Sudden,
though he could not have given a literal translation gathered sufficient to
know that he had been promised a slow and very agonizing end. Not wishing to
further alarm the girl, his reply was evasive:

 
          
“He’s
goin’ to have a pow-wow with me in the mornin’.” Sandy’s tone was incredulous.

 
          
“A
pow” he began, and stopped. “Shore, he’ll want to talk things over,” he went
on. “Mebbe he’ll dicker with us for beeves.”

 
          
Long
into the night the shrieks of the women mourning their dead endured. Sudden
could vision them, kneeling on the bare earth, their bodies streaming with
blood from the gashes they inflicted upon themselves. The spectacle would rouse
resentment against the hated paleface prisoners to the highest pitch, and
unless a miracle happened … In a gust of revolt, he strained at his bonds, but
the man who had tied them knew his business. He tried to sleep, well aware that
he would need all his nerve for the coming ordeal.

 
          
Daylight
brought
them
visitors, an armed brave and a squaw
bearing platters of food, pieces of cooked flesh and cakes of meal, with which
they had to deal as best they could with bound hands. One unacquainted with
Indians might have argued from this that they were not yet to die, but Sudden
knew it was but a refinement of cruelty; a man weak from want of food would
succumb to torture sooner.

 
          
When
they had eaten, the redskin removed the bonds from Sudden’s ankles and pointed
to the entrance of the tent. The cowboy saw the alarm in the girl’s eyes and
forced a grin on his set lips.