Part 15 (1/2)

As if to prove that he was a true prophet, the herd split against a rocky pinnacle, and on this we stranded. So much, at least, we had gained--we were no longer being carried w.i.l.l.y-nilly out of our way.

”If they'd only scatter a little,” MacRae muttered.

But for a long two hours the bison streamed by our island, dividing before and closing behind the insensate peak that alone had power to break their close-packed ranks. Then came an opening, a falling apart; slight as it was, we plunged into it with joy. Thereafter we were buffeted like chips in the swirling maw of a whirlpool; we fought our way rod by rod. Here an opening, and we shot through; there a solid wall of flesh for whose pa.s.sing we halted, las.h.i.+ng out with quirts and spurring desperately to hold our own--a war for the open road against an enemy whose only weapon was his unswerving bulk. And we won. We pushed, twisted, spurred our way through the ranks of a hundred thousand bison.

Jostling, cursing the brute swarm, we crowded our horses against the press, and lo! of a sudden we reined up on open ground--the bison, like a nightmare, were gone. Off in the gloom to one side of us a myriad of hoofs beat the earth, the hoa.r.s.e coughings continued, the animal odor exhaled--but it was no longer a force to be reckoned with. We were free.

We had outflanked the herd.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A WAR FOR THE OPEN ROAD AGAINST AN ENEMY WHOSE ONLY WEAPON WAS HIS UNSWERVING BULK.

_Page 256._]

CHAPTER XX.

THE MOUTH OF SAGE CREEK.

With that opposing force behind us, we bore away across the shrouded benches, straight for the mouth of Sage Creek. What method we would pursue when we got there was not altogether clear to me, and the same thing evidently bothered Piegan, for, after a long interval, he addressed himself pointedly to MacRae.

”We ought t' hit the river in an hour or so,” he said. ”It's time we figured on how we're goin' t' work, eh? I wish t' the Lord it was daylight.”

”So do I,” MacRae moodily responded. ”For that matter, it won't be long.

I've been thinking that the best way would be to get down on the flat at the north of the creek and _cache_ our horses in the timber. Then we can sneak around without making any noise. If they're not camped on the flat, we'll find them somewhere up the gorge. Of course, there's a chance that they have crossed the river--but if they didn't get there in daylight, and the river is still high, I hardly think they'd risk fording in the dark.”

”That's about the way I had sized it up,” Piegan replied. ”The flat ain't bigger'n a good-sized flapjack, nohow, an' if they're on that or up in Sage Creek canyon, we're bound t' locate 'em; kain't help hearin'

their hosses snort or cough or make some sort uh noise, if we go careful. The worst of it is, we kain't start the ball a-rollin' till we get that girl spotted--that's the h.e.l.l of it! Like as not she'd be the first one t' get hurt. An' if we get rambunctious an' stir 'em up in the dark, an' _don't_ put the finis.h.i.+n' to 'em right then an' there--why, they got all the show in the world t' make a hot-foot getaway. _Sabe?_ While I ain't lookin' for a chance t' sidestep the game, for I know how yuh feel, I'd say locate 'em if we can, an' then back up a little and wait for day.”

”Oh, I know, I know!” Mac burst out. ”That's sense. But it gives me the creeps to think--to think----”

”Sure; we know it,” Piegan answered softly. ”We kain't tell till we get there, anyway. Maybe we'll get 'em dead t' rights. No tellin' what'll come up when we get into that canyon. When we get 'em spotted we c'n make up our minds what t' do--if we have any time t' talk about it,” he finished, in an undertone.

As we rode, the crimson-yellow reflection of burning prairies began to tint the eastern sky; once, from the crest of a hill, we saw the wavering line of flame, rising and falling in beautiful undulations. And presently we galloped across a mile or two of level gra.s.sland and pulled up on the very brink of Sage Creek canyon.

”Easy, easy, from here on,” Piegan whispered caution. ”We may be right above 'em, for all we know. We hit it a little too high up. How far d'yuh reckon it is t' the mouth, Mac?”

”Not more than half a mile,” MacRae returned. ”We're not far out. I know where there's a good place to get down.”

We turned sharply to the right, coming out on a narrow point. Without mishap we reached the foot of the steep hill. At the bottom the wind was almost wholly shut off, so that sounds were easier to distinguish. The moon had pa.s.sed its zenith long since, and half of the flat lay in dense shadow. Beyond the shadow a pall of smoke lay over everything, a s.h.i.+fting haze that made objects near at hand indefinite of outline, impossible to cla.s.sify at a glance. A horse or a tree or a clump of brush loomed up grotesquely in the vaporous blur.

Mac, to whom the topography of that gloomy place was perfectly familiar, led the way. A black, menacing wall that rose before us suddenly resolved itself into a grove of trees, great four-foot cottonwoods. He stole into the heart of the grove and satisfied himself that our game had not appropriated it as a camping-place. That a.s.sured, we followed with our horses and tied them securely, removing saddles and bridles, lest the clank of steel or creaking of leather betray our presence to listening ears. On any noise our horses might make we had no choice but to take a chance. Then we looked to our guns and set out on a stealthy search.

A complete circle of that tiny bottom--it was only a shelf of sage-brown land lying between the river and the steep bank--profited us nothing, and Piegan whispered that now we must seek for them in the gorge.

Cautiously we retraced our steps from the lower end of the flat, and turned into the narrow mouth of the canyon. We had no more than got fairly between the straight-up-and-down walls of it than Piegan halted us with a warning hand. We squatted in the sage-brush and listened.

Behind us, from the river, came a gentle plas.h.i.+ng.

”Beaver,” I hazarded.