Shoot-out at Split Rock (9 page)

"Jim, if we don't git outa this Devil's oven mighty soon it's our fimish. That black o' yores 'pears to be in better shape than any o' the bosses; ride on an' take a look-see.'*

Sudden nodded and forged ahead. He had covered about a mile when a flat hummock of rock attracted his attention and he rode to the top of it. From there he had a more extended view. Wiping the bitter alkaU dust from his smarting eyes he stared unbelievingly. Was it a mirage, that maddening mockery of the desert, or did he really see a dark, irregular line between the sky and the sand? He gazed again, intently, but the vision persisted. He tried to utter a whoop, but his swollen tongue and parched throat produced only a hoarse cackle. When the herd came in sight, a straggling string of grey ghosts, he waved an arm and Jeff joined him. The foreman's squinting eyes followed the pointing finger, and he managed to articulate:

"If them's trees, it means runnin' water. Ride on, Jim, there may be Injuns about."

Sudden departed, taking his own and Jeff's empty canteens. Gradually, as he approached it, the dark line thickened and presentiy took the form of foliage. At the same

time, the sand was disappearing, tussocks of grass, clumps of cactus, dwarfed mesquite and sage taking its place. In a few moments they saw the river, a sluggish stream less than a hundred yards across, passing between wide sloping banks. Sudden drank sparingly, dipped his head in the water, and then dragged his unwilUng mount from it. At the top of the bank, Sudden mounted and rode back to carry the good news. The foreman's face brightened, and when he had moistened his aching throat and sent the canteens back down the line, he looked at the stumbling beasts beside him, and said:

"They'll just about make it—we'll lose some, mebbe, but that can't be helped. They's perkin' up a'ready. See ol' Show-'em-how there; he can smell that damn water."

At the head of the herd the big longhom was striding gallantly along, nose us, nostrils distended, and from time to time he gave vent to a feeble bellow, as of a leader encouraging his followers.

"We'll have to rest 'em for a day or so," the foreman continued. "She ain't much of a river, you say?"

"That's so, but I'd rest 'em on the other side," Sudden advised. "She's low now, but come a storm, she'd be a rii>-roaring devil. Get 'em over, pronto, ol'-timer."

"Any special reason for sayin' that, Jim?" Jeff inquired. "Them steers is plenty tuckered out for swimmin'."

"There ain't much o' that an' they'll feel different after a swill," Sudden told him. "See here, Jeff; the water is risin'—on'y by inches yet—^but that means more to come." The other nodded agreement; he knew how quickly a stream showing a mere trickle of water could become a raging torrent. They had almost reached the river when Sudden's restless eyes lighted on the remains of a fire, almost hidden behind a big cactus. They rode to the spot. "Injuns?" the foreman inquired, indicating a moccasin track.

Sudden shook his head. "The sticks is laid criss-cross an' burned in the middle, white man fashion; a redskin lays 'em all pointin' to the center an' bums the ends." He searched die surrounding ground. "Ain't no hoofprints. What's a white man on foot doin' in these parts?"

"I got riddles enough a'ready," Jeff said drily. "Best git that cussed wagon an' bosses over first, I s'pose."

So the herd was held buck till this was done. Fortunately the bed of the stream was firm, and—as Sudden had guessed—^there was not, as yet, much deep water, so the imwieldly vehicle was transported without undue difficulty. The remuda followed, and then came the cattle. Tumbling pell-mell down the bank, the parched brutes staggered into the water and stood there as though rooted.

"G'wan, you can drink an' swim one time," Dumpy yelled, jabbing a spear into obstinate ribs.

But even the pitiless application of quirts and rope ends failed to stir the stubborn steers, and the foreman scratched his head in perplexity. It was Sudden who saw the solution.

"Keep on pilin' 'em in, Jeff," he cried.

The plan worked. The pressure of the thirsty ones behind forced the leaders into deep water and soon they were swimming for the other bank. The foreman breathed again, but his troubles were not yet at an end. The crossing was only nearing completion when a warning came from Sandy:

"Hurry 'em up, Jeff; she's risin' rapid."

It was true; the span of the river was twice what it had been, and the outfit, recognizing the danger, made desperate efforts to hustle over the rest of the herd. Sluggishly, as it seemed, the jaded longhoms fought their way through the deepening water and climbed the opposing slope, reluctant to leave the Uquid they had for forty-eight hours been without.

"We'll make it," Jeff said, relief in his tone.

He spoke too soon. The last of the "drag"—consisting of the weaker animals in the charge of Jed, was littie more than halfway across when a duU, booming sound which grew louder every moment sent all eyes up-stream. There, at a narrow bend where the banks rose steeply, they saw a sight to make the bravest quail. Piled up between the bluffs was a great waU of water twenty feet high, the foaming crest Up of which bristied with driftwood, great branches and even whole trees, torn up bodily by tiie torrent.

The cowboy saw the danger, and leaving his charges to fend for themselves, spurred his mount in an endeavor to reach the bank. But the peril was advancing too swift-

ly. With a thunderous crash the avalanche of water broke upon the struggUng forms and swept them from sight. Cursing in their helplessness, the rest of the outfit watched their comrade go to his doom. All save Sudden, who, at the first ghmpse of the threatening deluge, had raced his horse to a jutting point in the bank and, at the risk of being swept away himself, had swung his rope. The loop dropped over Jed's shoulders just as the hmb of a tree struck him from his saddle and buried him in a seething welter of tormented water.

Feeling that the rope, already tied to the horn, was taut, Sudden backed his horse slowly away from the river. A cheer greeted him when it was seen that the limp figure of the cowboy was at the end of the lariat. Willing hands carried him to a dry spot and sought for injuries; beyond a scratch or two, there was none. Dumpy, who with a strangely pale face, had been feeling anxiously for broken bones, gasped with rehef when the rescued man suddenly opened his eyes and sat up.

"So you ain't drowned?" he said fatuously.

"Course I am, you chump," Jed retorted. "My insides is, anyway. Damn this country, there ain't no reasonableness in it; you either gits too much or none at all o' most things. You needn't look so glad I ain't gone neither."

Seven

The days that followed seemed like a dream after the rude experience of the desert. The character of the country had changed; there were still stretches of grass-covered prairie but they were not so extensive, and varied by hills and dales, some of them thickly wooded. Creeks were frequent, and with abundant feed and water, the cattle quickly recovered. Beyond the certainty that they were still in Indian territory and were heading north, they had no knowledge of their position.

"We've shook off Mister Rogue," Sandy remarked to Jim.

"Rogue knows where we're makin' for—he don't have to follow us. What's worryin' me is not seein' any Injuns."

"Well, that's a misfortune I can bear easy," the boy returned lightly. "Mebbe we've just been lucky."

Sudden declined to accept tiiis view. "I've a hunch we're bein' watched," he said.

"You've been rubbin' noses with Jed," Sandy chaffed. "The war-whoops is all busy chasin' the festive buffalo."

Sudden started to grin, changed his mind, and gripped a gun instead. "Here's some that ain't," he said quietly.

Out of the brush a line of horsemen had silently emerged, pulling up in the form of a half-circle about two hundred yards from the herd. They were Indians, big, well-built fellows, sitting their mettlesome little ponies like bronze statues. Each brave carried a long lance, bow and arrows, and on the left arm a round shield of buffalo hide, hair inward, stretched on hickory, with pictures of the moon, stars, serpents, and other symbolic devices painted on the front. Their fierce faces, and their chests, were daubed with color.

At the sight of them the cowboys pulled out their rifles, but the Indians showed no hostility. Only one advanced, a tail oldish man, gaily bedecked with eagle plumes. His right hand was raised, palm outwards, in token that he came on a peaceful mission. He rode straight to the foreman—having doubtless observed him giving orders— uttered a guttural "How!" and began to speak. Jeff listened for a moment and shook his head.

"No savvy," he said, and beckoned to Sudden,

"Mebbe you can find out what he's after."

The redskin repeated his statment and the cowboy was able to gather the gist of it.

"He says he is Black Bear, a great chief, that this is Comanche country, an' we got no right to take cattle through it," he translated. "He wants tribute in cows." The forman's face grew bleak. "How many?" he asked.

Sudden put the question and the Indian, resting his lance across his knees, pointed first to himself, then to Sudden, and raised both hands. The cowboy explained:

"Redskins reckon this away; one is a finger, five a hand, ten, two hands, twenty, a man. You can figure it yourself."

Jeff, who had been watching the chiefs movements

r

closely, did so, and swore. "Give him fifty steers?" he snarled. "Tell him to go to hell."

"Don't know enough o' the lingo," Sudden said. "I'll offer him five."

Black Bear listened gravely to the white man's explanation, haltingly told in a mixture of Indian tongues, and ending with the raising of one hand only. Then he drew himself up haughtily, flashed a meaning glance at his followers, and fiixed his savage eyes on this paleface who had insulted him with so paltry an offer. Sudden met the stare with one equally steady. For one long moment the black eyes battled with the blue and then the redskin wrenched his pony round and trotted back to his band. The cowboys, who had allowed the herd to drift toward the other end of the valley, waited, rifles ready, for the expected charge. They saw Black Bear rejoin his men and face about but he gave no signal.

"What's the game, Jim?" the foreman asked, anxiously scanning the line of silent savages.

"Damned if I know," Sudden repUed. "Lx)oks like they're waitin' for somethin'."

The crash of a gun, followed by the fainter report of a pistol, came from where the camp lay and instandy a rider whirled his mount and spurred in that direction; it was Sandy. The Indians were gesticulating, waving their weapons, and reining in their eager ponies. Sudden turned to the foreman.

"They're attackin' the camp—that's why these devils were holdin' back. I'll follow Sandy; you can handle this bunch."

A pressure of his knees and he was off, threading his way through the scared cattle. He had covered but a short distance when a burst of yells, mingled with the spiteful crack of exploding powder, told him that the enemy had charged.

Sandy reached the camping ground just in time to see a tall, hthe warrior, with a limp form draped over his shoulder, disappear in the brush, and oblivious to everything else, dashed in pursuit. He knew that his friend was just behind him, for he had seen the big black pounding down the vaUey. The trees hampered him and he arrived in the open only to see the abductor sling his burden

like a sack of meal across the back of a waiting pony, spring up behind it, and dart away. The cowboy dared not risk a shot lest he hit the girl; he could but try to run the redskin down.

Sudden arrived on the heels of Sandy, saw him vanish, and turned his attention to what was happening, A dead Indian—^his head half blown away—sprawled in his path, and another lay huddled by the wagon, from which a steady string of curses issued. Near the fire, Peg-leg was outstretched, a smear of blood on his face, and over his body Aunt Judy was struggling desperately with a squat, bow-legged savage, whose hideously-painted features she had further decorated with several vivid red streaks. Fighting like a wildcat, and spitting oaths of which a cowboy might weU have been proud, she was giving the Comanche brave plenty to think about. Try as he might, he could not clutch those long bony arms with their fearsome claws.

"Knock my man over, huh, ye Gawd-damned, misbegotten, copper-colored heathen," she yelled, and with a quick stoop, snatched a skQlet from the fire and whanged him across the face.

Driven back by the blow, the redskin drew his knife. His hand swung up and then a bullet from Sudden's gun toppled him to the ground. Aunt Judy staggered weakly to her husband, flinging herself on her knees beside him. As she wiped away the blood, the cook opened his eyes and sat up.

"I'm awright," he said. "One o' them got me with the butt of his lance an' I took the count." His eyes roamed round the Uttle clearing. "There was four of 'em. Where's the other?"

"Got away, takin' Miss Carol," Axmt Judy told him.

Sudden interrupted by putting a question. It appeared the raiders had approached the camp on foot. Peg-leg had seen one stepping to the wagon and laid him out with a shotgun. Then he had been struck down from behind. His wife took up the tale. The women had been in the tent and when Peg-leg fired, the girl ran out, to be immediately seized, overpowered, and tied. Aunt Judy following, was attacked by a third savage, while a fourth attempted to climb into the wagon.

"Sam blowed his light out an' he's liable to do the same to us if he ain't attended to," she finished.

They found the cattleman propped up on one elbow, a six-shooter gripped in his right hand. The fury in his rugged face gave way to fear when he heard of Carol's capture, and he cursed anew the man whose bullet had laid him low. Sudden tried to soothe him by pointing out that Sandy was in pursuit, but the effort; failed.

"They'U get him too—damn the crooked luck," he dejectedly repHed. "How's Jeff makin' it?"

Hammering hoofs brought the answer and the Infant pulled his panting pony to a sHding stop by the wagon.

"We druv 'em off," he announced triumphantly. "Got six at the first rattle. That discouraged 'em some, an' they started circlin'. It didn't help 'em none, for we got two-three more. Then the ol' chief lets out a whoop an' they scoops up their dead an' vanishes—complete. Jeff said for to tell you the herd ain't scattered much an' we'll be ready to start in 'bout an hour."