Part 3 (1/2)
CHAPTER IV
THE RANGE WOLVES
That same winter Lord Balshannon came down from Lordsburgh on the railroad, by way of Bryant's ranche, and tracked my round-up outfit to our camp at Laguna. That was the spot where the patrone and I fought the Apache raiders, but since then we had built corrals beside the pool, the ring-fences which are used for handling livestock. I had twenty Mexican _vaqueros_ with me, branding calves; and the patrone found us all at supper.
While we ate he told me the news--how d.i.c.k Bryant was elected Sheriff of the county; how Mr. Ryan's eldest son had left college and gone into business in New York; how three bad men had been lynched by the Vigilance Committee at Grave City; and how Low-Lived Joe had shot up two Mexicans for being too obstreperous at cards. The boss had always some gossip for me at tea-time.
After supper he pa.s.sed me a cigar. ”Chalkeye,” said he, ”give these boys as much sleep as you can. At midnight you pull out of camp for Wolf Gap; strike in there at the first streak of dawn, gather the whole of our horses, then run them as hard as you can to Holy Cross, and throw them into the house.”
”Indians?” I asked.
”No, horse rustlers. Bryant gave me the office that some outlaws have come down from Utah. They've heard of our half-bred ponies, and they're in need of remounts.”
”We've only two days' forage at the house.”
”After to-morrow let the herd into the home pasture under a strong guard by day. Throw them into the house every night, and post a relief of sentries on the roof. We mustn't--haw, allow the poor robbers to fall into temptation, so see that the men have--er plenty of ammunition.”
”These robbers may round up our cattle.”
”If they do they will have to drive slow, and Bryant will hold the railway-line in force, with troops if necessary, er--Chalkeye!”
”Yessir.”
”A friend of mine has turned this gang loose on my stock. There's been crooked work.”
”Ryan work, sir?”
”What makes you think that?”
”The birds. I want leave to go shoot Ryan.”
”Indeed, ah! I've promised my wife not to--er shoot Mr. Ryan.” He stood up and grabbed my paw. ”Chalkeye, we must try to behave like--er Christians, for her sake. Now I must be off. You'll find me at Holy Cross.”
At noon next day I brought our herd to Holy Cross, and watered all the horses at the dam below the house. This dam crossed a small hollow holding some two or three acres of water, directly under the western wall of the Hacienda. Some old trees sheltered the water, and one of these had been blown down by a gust of wind. As I drove the _remuda_ to the gates, one of the mares got snarled up in the wrecked tree, broke her leg, and had to be shot. Then I threw the herd into the stable-court, and went to my quarters.
I reckon that I had been thirty-four hours in the saddle, and used up five horses, so I wanted much to get my eye down for a little sleep.
While the _peon_ pulled off my boots I gave orders mixed with yawns to my segundo.
”Take charge, Teniente, and report my obedience to El Senor Don Rex.
Post a guard of four in the gate-house, close the gates, and place a relief of sentries on the North-west Bastion. If the sentry sees anybody coming, the guard is to call me at once. See that my riders get sleep till sundown, then send a couple of them to haul that dead mare from the water-hole.”
I had not slept an hour when a man from the guard-house came running to wake me up. I jumped into my boots, grabbed my gun, and bolted to the gates, where Balshannon joined me at the spy-hole.
”Who's coming?” he asked.
”A white man, patrone, and a boy, on the dead run.”
”Message from Bryant, eh? Let them in.”
I swung the gates wide open, and we stood watching the riders--a middle-aged stockman and a young cowboy, burning the trail from the north. As they came surging up the approach I reckon their horses smelt a whiff of blood from that dead mare beside the water-hole. Horses go crazy at the smell of blood, and though the man held straight on at a plunging run for the gates, the boy lacked strength to control his mare.