Part 14 (1/2)
”What?”
”The whistle of a locomotive engine; there it is again! How far off it seems!”
”Sound travels a long way over these plains; there's nothing to intercept it--but I didn't hear it.”
”Listen. It will sound again, perhaps, when the train reaches another crossing. It must be way down on the Huerfano. There, didn't you hear that?”
”Yes; do keep still, Guard.”
Guard, aroused from his nap, was sitting up and looking around with an occasional low growl.
”Seems to me that they must have railway crossings pretty thick down on the Huerfano,” Jessie remarked, after a moment's silence. ”That makes three whistles--if they are whistles--that we've heard within as many minutes.”
”That's true, Jessie--I hadn't thought of that. It may not be an engine. It sounds louder, instead of diminis.h.i.+ng as it would if--keep still, Guard! What in the world is the matter with you!”
For answer, Guard, with every hair on his back erect and standing up like the quills of a porcupine, got up, and wriggled himself under the seat on which we were sitting, making his way to the end of the wagon-box, where he stood with legs braced to keep himself steady, his chin resting on the edge of the tailboard, and his eyes fixed on the darkening roadway over which we had just pa.s.sed. Every now and then he gave a low, sullen growl, and, even from where we sat, and in the increasing gloom we could see that his white fangs were bared.
”How strangely Guard acts!” exclaimed Jessie, with a sudden catch in her voice, and a dawning fear of--she knew not what--in her eyes.
At that instant the sound that I had taken for the far-off, dying whistle of a locomotive, came again to my ears; nearer, more distinct, in increasing volume--a weird, melancholy call--a pursuing cry. The lines were in my hands, and at that instant the horses suddenly sprang forward, faster, faster, until their pace became a tearing run, and then some words of my own, spoken weeks before, flashed into my mind, bringing with them a mental illumination.
”There are wolves!” I had said. I was conscious of an effort to steady my voice, to keep it from shaking, as I thrust the lines into Jessie's hands. ”Try to keep the horses in the road, Jessie; do not check them.
I am going back there by Guard.”
”What for?” Jessie's tones were sharp with apprehension, and again, as if in explanation, came that pursuing chorus. I sprang over the back of the seat, and knelt in the bottom of the wagon-box, securing the rifle and cartridge-belt. Jessie, holding the lines firmly in either hand, s.h.i.+fted her position to look down on me. Her face gleamed white in the dusk as she breathed, rather than spoke: ”Wolves, Leslie?”
”Yes.” I had the gun now and staggered to my feet. ”Watch the horses, Jessie.” Jessie nodded.
Ralph, roused by the rapid motion, had awakened. He struggled to a sitting posture. ”What for is us doin' so fas'?” he inquired, with interest.
Jessie made no reply, but she put one foot on his short skirt, holding him in place. Some intuition told him what was taking place, perhaps, what might take place. Clasping both chubby hands around Jessie's foot to steady himself, he sat in silence, making no complaint. The brave spirit within his baby body had risen to meet the crisis as gallantly as could that of any Gordon over whose head a score of years had pa.s.sed.
Reaching the end of the wagon, I crouched down beside Guard, with rifle poised and finger on the trigger, waiting for the pursuing outcry to resolve itself into tangible shape. I had not long to wait.
Dusky shadows came stealing out from either side of the roadway.
Shadows that, as I strained my eyes upon them, seemed to grow and multiply, until, in less time than it takes to tell it, we were close beset by a pack of wolves in full cry. The terrified horses were bounding along and the wagon was bouncing after them, at a rate that threatened momentarily to either shatter the wagon or set the horses free from it, but Jessie still kept them in the road. A moment more and the wolves were upon us, and had ceased howling; their quarry was at hand. I could see their eyes flaming in the darkness, and with the rifle muzzle directed toward a couple of those flaming points, I fired. There was a terrific clamor again as the report of the gun died away, and a score or more of our pursuers halted, sniffing at a fallen comrade. But one gaunt long-limbed creature disdained to stop for such a matter. He kept after the wagon. Guard was young and, moreover, this was his first experience with wolves. He had stopped growling, but his eyes seemed to dart fire, and as the wolf that had outstripped its mates sprang up, with gnas.h.i.+ng teeth, hurling himself at the tailboard in a determined effort to spring into the wagon, Guard attempted to spring out and grapple with him. I was leaning against the dog, ready to meet the wolf's closer approach with a bullet, and, in consequence, I felt the impetus of his leap before he could accomplish it. The gun dropped from my hand with a crash as I threw both arms around Guard, intent on holding him in the wagon. I was so far successful that his leap was checked; he fell across the tailboard, his head and forelegs outside. My grip about his body tightened as I felt him slipping. I pulled back mightily, and had the satisfaction of tumbling backward with him into the wagon-box, but not before he had briefly sampled the wolf. The creature's savage head and cruel eyes appeared above the tailboard, even as I dragged at Guard, who, not to be deterred by my interference, made a vicious lunge at the enemy, and fell back with me, his mouth and throat so full of wolf-hair and hide that he was nearly strangled. But that particular wolf had drawn off. I regained my feet and admonished Guard: ”Stay there, sir! Stay right there!” I gasped, and again secured the gun. The wolves, on each side of us now, were running close to the front wheels and to the galloping horses, and one was again trying to leap into the box from the rear. The rifle spoke, and he fell motionless on the road, at the same instant I heard Ralph saying, imperatively: ”Do away! Do away I tells 'oo!” I looked around. Ralph was on his knees--no one could have kept footing in that wagon-box just then--a pair of wolves were leaping up wildly beside the near wheel, making futile springs and snaps at him, and just then he lifted something, some dark object from the bottom of the wagon-box, and hurled it at them with all the power of his baby hands.
Whatever the object was, its effect on the wolves was instantaneous.
The pack had not stopped to look at the wolf brought down by my second shot, but they all stopped, snarling and fighting over Ralph's missile. A few took on after us, and then Ralph threw another; they stopped again at that, and then I saw that the child was throwing out the game that Phillips had given us. With another command to Guard to remain where he was, I crept back to the pile of game yet remaining, and tossed out what was left. Then I crept on to Jessie.
”Can you slow the horses down?” I shouted in her ear. ”The wolves will not follow us again; they have got what they were after.”
The horses knew me, and by dint of much pulling and many soothing words I had them partially quieted, but it took so long to gain even that much control over them that the wolves were far out of sight and sound behind us when I at length ventured to look back. The horses were walking at last, but it was a walk so full of frightened starts and nervous glances that it threatened at any moment to break into a run. By the moonlight Jessie and I looked into each others' white faces, and, with Ralph cuddled between us, clung together for a breathless instant of thanksgiving. Then--”'Ose dogs was hundry,”
Ralph observed, philosophically, adding, as an afterthought: ”Me hundry, too; is we mos' 'ome, 'Essie?”
”We'll be there soon,” I answered, tremulously. We saw or heard nothing more of the wolves, which were of that cowardly species--a compromise between the skulking coyote and the savage gray wolf, known as ”Loafers.” A loafer very seldom attacks man, but he will, if numerous enough, run down and destroy cattle--sometimes horses. In this instance it was undoubtedly the scent of the game in the wagon that attracted them. Once attracted and bent on capture, they are as fiercely determined as their gray cousins, and but for the fortunate accident of Ralph's using a duck for a projectile they would have kept up the chase until the horses were exhausted, and they were able to help themselves.
It was after nine when we reached home, and never had home seemed a dearer or safer place. The ch.o.r.es all done, Ralph asleep in his little crib, and Guard sleeping the sleep of the just on the kitchen doorstep, Jessie and I sat down by the table to eat a belated supper, and count our hard-won gains. The melon crop was all sold, and it had netted us forty dollars.
CHAPTER XVI