Part 30 (2/2)

”Ye ain't a-goin' to leave me yere alone, are ye, Sergeant?”

”No; there 'll be two horses to keep you company. You've got a snap, man; plenty to eat, and a good fire--what more do you want--a nurse?

Hughes, what, in the name of Heaven, are you standing there for?

Perhaps you would like to have me stir you up. I will if those horses are not here in ten minutes.”

The cowman, m.u.f.fled to the ears in a buffalo coat, plunged profanely into the drift, slamming the door behind him. Hamlin hastily glanced over the few articles piled in readiness on the bench--ammunition, blankets, food--paying no heed to Carroll's muttering of discontent.

By the time Hughes returned, he had everything strapped for the saddles. He thrust the cowman's rifle under his own flap, but handed the latter a revolver, staring straight into his eyes as he did so.

”I reckon you and I have got enough in common in this chase to play square,” he said grimly. ”We 're both out after Le Fevre, ain't we?”

”You bet.”

”All right, then; here 's your gun. If you try any trickery, Hughes, I 'd advise that you get me the first shot, for if you miss you 'll never have another.”

The man drew the sleeve of his coat over his lips, his eyes s.h.i.+fting before the Sergeant's steady gaze.

”I ain't thet sort,” he muttered uneasily. ”Yer don't need to think thet o' me.”

”Maybe not,” and Hamlin swung into the saddle carelessly. ”Only I thought I 'd tell you beforehand what would happen if you attempt any fool gun-play. Take the lead, you know the trail.”

Carroll, supporting himself by the table, crept across to the door and watched them, reckless as to the entering cold. The glare of the white snow revealed clearly the outlines of the disappearing hors.e.m.e.n, as they rode cautiously down the bank. The thin fringe of sh.o.r.e ice broke under the weight of the ponies' hoofs, as the riders forced them forward into the icy water. A moment later the two crept up the sharp incline of the opposite sh.o.r.e, appearing distinct against the sky as they attained the summit. Hamlin waved his hand, and then, on a lope, the figures vanished into the gloom. Crying, and swearing at his helplessness, the deserted soldier closed the door, and crept back s.h.i.+vering into his blankets.

Hughes turned his horse's head to the southwest, and rode steadily forward, the buffalo overcoat giving him a s.h.a.ggy, grotesque appearance in the spectral light reflected from the snow. Without a word Hamlin followed, a pace behind. Their route lay for the first few miles across a comparatively level plateau, over which the fierce wind of the late storm had swept with such violence as to leave the surface packed firm. The night shut them in silently, giving to their immediate surroundings a mournful loneliness most depressing. There were no shadows, only the dull snow-gleam across which they pa.s.sed like spectres, the only sound the crunching of their horses' hoofs on the crust. The Sergeant, staring about, felt that he had never looked upon a more depressing spectacle than this gloomy landscape, desolate and wind-swept, still over-arched with low-lying storm clouds, black and ominous.

They advanced thus for two hours, making no attempt to force their animals, and scarcely exchanging a word, both men watchful of the snow underfoot in search of a possible trail, when the character of the country began to change. The level plain broke into a series of ridges of irregular formation, all evidently heading toward some more southern valley. In the depressions the snow lay banked in deep drifts, and, after plunging desperately through two of these, unable to judge correctly in the dim light where to ride, Hughes turned more to the south, skirting along the bare slope of a ridge, trusting some turn lower down would yield them the necessary westerning.

”It's over the ponies' heads down thar, Sergeant,” he said, pointing sideways into the dark hollow, ”an' we 're bound to strike a cross-ridge afore we come to the bluffs.”

”What bluffs? The Canadian?”

”Yep; it 's badly broken kintry a long ways west o' yere. Bad lands, mostly, an' a h.e.l.l o' a place for cattle to hide out.”

”Hughes, do you know where Black Kettle's camp is?”

”Well, no, not exactly. Las' winter the Cheyennes was settled 'bout opposite the mouth o' Buffalo Creek, an' thar 're down thar somewhar now. Thar 's one thing sure--they ain't any east o' thet. As we ain't hit no trail, I reckon as how Le Fevre's outfit must hev drifted further then I calc'lated.”

”I thought so at the time,” commented the other quietly. ”However, we will have to make the circle, and, if the country out yonder is as you describe, they will be no better off. They 'll have to follow the ridges to get through. We may get a glimpse when daylight comes.”

They rode on steadily, keeping down below the crest of the hills, yet picking a pa.s.sage where the snow had been swept clear. The slipperiness of the incline made their progress slow, as they dared not risk the breaking of a horse's leg in that wilderness, and the faint light glimmer was most confusing. The wind had ceased, the calm was impressive after the wild tumult, but the cold seemed to strengthen as the dawn advanced, viciously biting the exposed faces of the men. The straining ponies were white with frost. In the gray of a cheerless dawn they reached the first line of bluffs, and drew rein just below the summit, where they could look on across the lower ridges to the westward.

It was a wild, desolate scene, the dull gray sky overhead, the black and white shading below. Mile on mile the picture unrolled to the horizon, the vista widening slowly as the light increased, bringing forth the details of barren, wind-swept ridges and shallow valleys choked with snow. Not a tree, not a shrub, not even a rock broke the dead monotony. All was loneliness and silence. The snow lay gleaming and untrampled, except as here and there a dull brown patch of dead gra.s.s darkened the side of a hill. Hamlin shadowed his eyes with gloved hands, studying intently inch by inch the wide domain. Suddenly he arose in his stirrups, bending eagerly forward.

”By heaven! There they are, Hughes,” he exclaimed, feeling the hot blood course through his veins. ”See, on the incline of that third ridge. There is a shadow there, and they are not moving. Here; draw in back of me; now you can see. It looks as though they had a horse down.”

Hughes stared long in the direction indicated, his eyes narrowed into mere slits.

”Ah! that's it,” he said at last. ”Horse broke a leg; shot it jest then--I seen the flash. Now they 're goin' on. See! One fellow climbin' up behind 'nother, an' the horse left lyin' thar on the snow.”

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