Oliver Strange - Sudden Westerns 04 - Sudden Outlawed(1934) Page 11

  “What about sendin’ to Jeff for help?” Jed asked.

  “Too risky—the rustlers may be showin’ up any moment. We’ll go while the goin’s good.”

  For the next few hours all four riders were far too busy to think of anything but the work in hand. It was a big bunch for so small a crew, and the cattle—loth to leave the peaceful, sheltered valley, made frequent efforts to break back. By the time the arroyo was reached the men were limp, drenched with perspiration, and utterly profane.

  They found the foreman and Carol at the entrance to the arroyo, and the little man’s slitted eyes widened when he saw the cattle pouring through.

  “Christ-opher Columbus!” he ejaculated, remembering just in time that his employer’s daughter was present. “Whose ranch yu bin raidin’, Jim?”

  But the girl had seen the brand. “They are our own cows, Jeff,” she cried. “Won’t Dad be pleased!”

  “I’ll say he will,” the foreman grinned. “This’ll do him more good than all the nussin’. How come, Jim?”

  Sudden told the tale, while Jeff swore delightedly to himself as he listened.

  “Yu shore got nerve, boy,” he commented. “Lettin’ them thieves collect our cows for us was one great scheme.”

  “Seemed fair to me,” Sudden smiled. “They scattered ‘em.”

  Jeff’s eyes had been busy and as the last of the herd trotted by he slapped his thigh joyously. “Damn near a thousand head,” he said. “Why, we won’t be more’n three-four hundred shy after all, an’ we owe it to yu, Jim.”

  “Shucks,” Sudden said lightly, and jerked a thumb at his friend. “There’s the fella yu gotta thank.”

  “I was meanin’ both,” the foreman replied. “It was shorely a good day for the S E that brought yu boys along.” Sandy cared nothing for the little man’s praise; the look of gratitude the girl gave him as she rode away to tell her father the news was all the reward he wanted.

  “We’ll be all fixed to take the trail in the mornin’,” Jeff went on. Sudden’s eyebrows rose and he shot a whimsical glance at the sun overhead. The foreman read it. “yo’re figurin’ we oughta start now?” he asked.-

  “Think it over,” the cowboy replied. “We don’t know how soon them hombres will discover their loss, but yu can bet they won’t waste no time high-tailin’ it after us—follerin’ the cattle won’t be no trick a-tall, we couldn’t blind our tracks. Any lead we can get will be all to the good.”

  “Yo’re damn right,” Jeff agreed. “We want to be plenty absent when they arrive. Sandy, go tell the boys we’ll be settin’ out pronto.”

  In less than an hour the herd was again on the move, heading away from where they conjectured the rustlers to be encamped. Despite the disaster, cheerfulness reigned. The loss had proved far less than had seemed likely, and the riders, with the optimism born of their hardy natures, had already transformed the incident into a victory; they had “put one over” the cattlethieves. Pebbles expressed his satisfaction in song:

  “Roll yore tails an’ roll ‘em high, We’ll all be angels by an’ by.”

  The foreman’s face creased in a smile. “Hark to him,” he said. “He’s wore to a frazzle—as we all are–his clothes is sca’cely decent, an’ he ain’t got a dollar to his name, but he’s happy. Yu can’t heat them fellas.”

  Chapter XIV

  SUDDEN reined in his horse on the top of a broken-backed ridge and surveyed the surrounding scenery; the indentation between his level brows denoted that he was not entirely pleased with what he saw. Since the stampede and the events which followed it, day after day had passed in wearying but satisfactory monotony.

  For the last day or so Sudden had been wondering whether, in their search for easy going, they had veered too much to the west. Now, it was clear that the surface of the prairie was changing, the grass was becoming sparse and sand was taking its place. Ahead of him, a giant cactus, its candelabra-like arms curving upwards, stood like a warning sentinel. Far away, almost on the horizon, a swarm of black dots moved slowly nearer. He rode back to the herd.

  “Desert ahead,” he said briefly. “Ain’t drifted on to the Staked Plain, have we?”

  The question put a perturbed expression on the foreman’s lined features.

  “Hell, Jim, I can’t say,” Jeff confessed. “That cussed stampede throwed us right out, an’ I dunno nothin’ about this blame’ country. Mebbe we’re on’y on the fringe of it.”

  “Better swing to the east anyways,” Sudden advised.

  Jeff gave the necessary instruction to the point men and then rode ahead with Sudden after the herd. When they sighted it, Jeff bit on an oath; the cattle were floundering through a sea of sand, hummocks, ridges, and long rolling swells stretched out unendingly until they merged with the pale blue of the cloudless sky. As they were about to pass the wagon, Peg-leg jerked a thumb backwards.

  “The Ol’ Man has been askin’ for yu, Jeff,” he grunted. “Wanted to know what we was doin’ in this fry-pan? I done told him it was better’n bein’ in the fire, but he on’y cussed me.”

  Sam Eden, propped up inside the conveyance, greeted them peevishly; with returning strength, he was beginning to chafe at inaction, as a sick man will. The foreman set out the situation.

  “At least we’ve dodged the redskins an’ mebbe this sand ain’t but a strip,” he finished. “yu got the best of it in here, Sam; the air outside would choke a wooden image.” The cattleman’s reply was a wholesale condemnation of the Indians, the desert, the wagon, and the man who was responsible for his being confined to it. Though he spoke in a low voice, one of the women sitting beside the driver heard and promptly parted the curtains which screened the front of the vehicle.

  “Make tracks,” Judy ordered. “How’n hell am I to git that fella fit if yu come around upsettin’ him? Take yore damn troubles somewhere else.”

  “He’s here ‘cause I wanted to see him,” the invalid said. “Then yu got no more sense than he has,” the lady retorted. “Did I hear yu cough?”

  “No,” Eden replied quickly, and clutched his cherished pipe.

  He knew the threat behind the question. With a feeble grin at his foreman, he added, “Better fade, Jeff; she’s the doc, yu know, bl—ess her.”

  Mile upon mile under the pitiless sun they crawled, both men and beasts choking in the clouds of dust churned up by thousands of tramping feet. On all sides lay the arid waste of bleached sand, the powdery particles of which covered them with a coating of dirty white, invaded eyes, mouth, and nostrils, and getting between the skin and clothing, caused intolerable discomfort. Progress was painfully slow, for the cattle sank knee-deep in the soft surface and riders had to tie their ropes to the wagon in order to pull it up the slopes. Here and there a bare shoulder of rock, a stunted mesquite, or a cactus, its spines gleaming frostily, broke the soul-sickening sameness of the scene. The sand flung the sun’s rays back in their faces and they seemed to be wading through a lake of shimmering heat.

  The cool night air brought some slight mitigation of their sufferings but instead of being baked they were nearly frozen. Some of the cook’s cherished fuel and a few dead mesquite branches supplied a poor fire, round which those not watching the herd huddled in humorous discontent. The two barrels of water slung to the wagon were all of the precious liquid they possessed; the horses were given a bare swallow apiece but the cattle had to go thirsty. One mug of coffee was the allowance for each man.

  “D’j’ever see such a durned country?” Jed complained, as he ruefully finished his drink.

  “Fella told me once that more’n two-thirds o’ the earth is covered with water an’ we gotta come to a bit where there ain’t enough to rust a nail.”

  At the first glimmer of grey in the east they arose, shivering, swallowed a scanty breakfast, and set out; the foreman was anxious to get as far as possible ere the sun’s rays attained their full force. The day proved to be a repetition of the preceding, the discomfort intensified by the fact that even the miserable
ration of water they had then enjoyed was no longer available; a quart or so, reserved for the invalid and the women, was all that remained.

  By mid-day it was evident the cows could not go much farther. Already a few had fallen and had, perforce, to be abandoned; the rest still staggered weakly on, tongues protruding, sullenly lowing, and many of them nearly blind. The foreman ranged up beside Sudden, who was leading the herd. His voice was little more than a whisper:

  “Jim, if we don’t git outa this Devil’s oven mighty soon it’s our finish. That black o’ yores ‘pears to be in better shape than any o’ the hosses; ride on an’ take a look-see.”

  Sudden nodded and forged ahead, quickly leaving the labouring herd behind, though his own pace was no more than a walk. 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 alkali 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 presently took the form of foliage. The trees were but half a mile distant now, a long wall of them, pine, oak, cottonwood, with a close undergrowth of thorny bushes. The nearness of them put new life into both horse and rider. 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 unwilling mount away from it.

  “Yu’ve had enough, for now, yu old soak,” he admonished. “Wanta give yoreself a colic or somethin’?”

  The black rubbed its wet, silken nostrils against his shoulder and gave in. 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 of Show’em-how there; he can smell that damn water.”

  At the head of the herd the big longhorn was striding gallantly along, nose up, 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 up for a day or so,” the foreman continued. “She ain’t much of a river, yu say?”

  “That’s so, but I’d rest ‘em the other side,” Sudden advised. “She’s low now, but come a storm, she’d be a rip-roarin’ 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 centre an’ burns the ends.” He searched the 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 dryly. “Best git that cussed wagon an’ hosses over first, I s’pose.”

  So the herd was held back 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 unwieldy 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. 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 longhorns fought their way through the deepening water and climbed the opposing slope, reluctant to leave the liquid 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 charge of Jed, was little more than halfway across when a dull 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 wall of water twenty feet high, the foaming crested lip of which bristled with driftwood, great branches and even whole trees, torn up bodily by the torrent.

  The cowboy saw the danger, and leaving his charges to fend for themselves, spurred his mount in an endeavour to reach the bank. But the peril was advancing too swiftly. With a thunderous crash the avalanche of water broke upon the struggling 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 glimpse 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 limb 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 relief when the rescued man opened his eyes and sat up.

  “So yu ain’t drowned?” he said fatuously.

  “Course I am, yu chump,” Jed retorted. “My insides is, anyway. Damn this country, there ain’t no reasonableness in it; yu either gits too much or none a-tall o’ most things. yu needn’t look so glad I ain’t gone neither.”

  Dumpy, fearing he had shown too much so licitude, promptly went to the other extreme.

  “I mighta knowed yu couldn’t drown’d a fella born to have his neck stretched,” he retorted.

  “Well, yo’re safe thataway, seein’ yu ain’t got no neck,” his friend grinned. He stood up and held out a hand to Sudden. “Jim, I’m rememberin’ it,” he said. “When yu pitched yore rope I was wonderin’ if playin’ a harp was difficult.”

  “Huh!” Dumpy grunted. “Shovellin’ coal is what yu wanta practise.”

  This restored the normal atmosphere of a cow-camp and made them all feel more comfortable, The foreman answered Jed’s question:

  “Yeah, we lost the cows an’ yore bronc an’ got off light at that. Wonder if this cussed country has any
more surprises for us?”

  The “cussed country” had, as they were to discover ere long.

  Chapter XV

  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, and, being thoroughly “trail-broke,” gave little trouble. Beyond the certainty that they were still in Indian territory and were heading north, they had no knowledge of their position. This did not trouble them; in their own phrase, “Time to ford a river is when yu come to it.” Sandy shared in the general optimism.

  “That little of desert done us a good turn after all,” he remarked, as he paused for a moment beside his friend. They were rounding up tHe herd for the day’s drive. The slanting rays of the rising sun were dispersing the haze over the bedding-ground, a little savannah of rich grass entirely shut in by timber and brush. The camp was at the far end, some half-mile distant. “We’ve shook off Mister Rogue.”

  “Someone’s been smilin’ at yu,” Sudden replied, with gentle sarcasm, and then, “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 this view. “I’ve a hunch we’re bein’ watched,” he said.

  “Yu’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 inwards, 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 colour.