Part 5 (1/2)
”Maybe upon the judgment day; When all sinners their debt must pay; They'll find me and bind me and judge poor me; All in my grave, on the lone prair-e-e-e-e-e-e!”
As the last words of this dismal chant rang out, an echo seemed to be flung back at the singer from behind a neighboring ridge, upon which the lone yuccas stood upright, like, so many figures of formed bits of humanity.
”Ye-e-e-e-e-e-e!”
It came in a long drawn out wail that fairly seemed to make the desert ring with its gruesome echoes. All at once it was taken up from another point. Then another echoed it back. It seemed to be proceeding from a dozen quarters of the compa.s.s at once.
Strong nerved as all three of the riders were, it appeared to make a strange impression on them.
”What in the name of Kit Carson wuz that?” demanded Red Bill drawing rein.
”Dunno. It sounded like someone havin' fun with that ther cheerful little song of yourn,” said the black-mustached man.
”That's what it did. I'd like to find the varmint. I'd make some fun fer him.”
The man scowled savagely. His nerves had been unpleasantly shaken by the wild, unearthly cries.
”It didn't sound human,” he said at length; ”tell you what, let's jes' look aroun' and see if we kin find any trace of who done it.”
Buck Bellew said nothing but he grinned to himself. Plainly something amused him hugely.
”All right;” he said, ”we'll look.”
They rode about among the desert dips and gullies for some time, but they could discover no trace of any agency that could have produced the weird cries. Both Red Bill and the black-mustached man were plainly nonplussed.
”This beats all,” opined Summers. ”I don't even see a track any place.”
”Nor don't I,” rejoined his companion seriously. Both were superst.i.tious men, a failing apparently not shared by Bellew, who stood regarding them, seated easily sideways in his saddle, with an amused look.
”Hey Bellew, why don't you come an' look. You alters wuz a good tracker?” demanded Red Bill looking up suddenly.
”Not fer me, thanks,” was the easy response, ”ef you want to hunt spooks--”
”Who said it wuz a spook or any such pack uv nonsense?” glared back Summers.
”I didn't,” declared the black-mustached man with great positiveness.
”No more did I,” angrily sputtered Red Bill ”thar ain't no such things nohow.”
”I dunno,” said the black-mustached man seriously. ”I do recollec'
hearing my old grandmother, back East, tell about a ghost what she seen once. Want ter hear about it?”
No one replied, and taking silence for consent, he went on.
”Grandmother was married to a decent old chap that was a teamster.
He used to haul farm stuff to the city in the day and it was often pretty late afore he got out again. Well, on his way he had to pa.s.s a cemetery, a buryin' ground you know, and I tell you he didn't like it. It sort of got on his nerves to think that some night one of them dead folks lying there all so quiet might arise from ther graves.
”It seems as how it allers haunted him ter think that some night as he wuz drivin' by that ther buryin' ground--”