Shoot-out at Split Rock Page 8

  "They'U get him too—damn the crooked luck," he dejectedly repHed. "How's Jeff makin' it?"

  Hammering hoofs brought the answer and the Infant pulled his panting pony to a sHding stop by the wagon.

  "We druv 'em off," he announced triumphantly. "Got six at the first rattle. That discouraged 'em some, an' they started circlin'. It didn't help 'em none, for we got two-three more. Then the ol' chief lets out a whoop an' they scoops up their dead an' vanishes—complete. Jeff said for to tell you the herd ain't scattered much an' we'll be ready to start in 'bout an hour."

  Sudden explained why this would not be possible and the youth's face lengthened.

  "Hell, that's bad," he said. "Sandy went after her?"

  "Yeah, an' as he ain't back, it's possible they got him too."

  The rancher's querulous voice came from the wagon: "Get Jeff an' the boys an' go after these damned women-stealers."

  Sudden shook his head. "Listen to me, seh," he said earnestly. "That Black Bear is a wise hombre an' he'll figure on us doin' that very thing, which is why he didn't stay an' fight it out; Comanches ain't cowards, you savvy. If they can trap the outfit they get the herd easy."

  "To hell with the herd," Eden snapped. "I'd sooner lose every hoof than harm should happen to Carol."

  "Shore, but that ain't the way to go about it," the cowboy urged. "We gotta walk in the water some."

  "He's right, boss," Peg-leg put in. "Let Jim trail 'em an' see how things is. No sense in runnin' our heads into a yeller-jacket's nest."

  The old man gave a grudging assent; he knew they were advising him wisely.

  Sudden's preparations were soon made. He decided to

  take the black, for if he could liberate the captives, speed would be essential. He was mounting when Jeff rode in; Sudden explained his errand.

  "O' course, it's on the cards they'll gather me in too,*' he said. "Then it'll be up to you an' the boys. I'll leave a plain trail."

  The foreman's face was somber. "It looks bad, Jim," he said. "Them skunks was on'y there to keep the boys busy while the others raided the camp. Why should they be so sot on gittin' a white woman, huh?"

  Sudden did not reply to the question. He could have offered a reason but he feared the foreman would deem it fantastic. But his knowledge of redskin nature, relentless and untiring in its pursuit of vengeance, told him that it was possible. All he said was:

  "Well, they paid a price. So long, ol'-timer. See you soon—mebbe."

  Following Sandy's trail, his mind was busy with the idea he had forborne to mention to the foreman. It had suggested itself when he learned the girl had been carried off. The braves from whom he had rescued her on the day he had first ridden to the S-E had been Comanches, and there was a chance that they belonged to Black Bear's tribe. In any case, they were chiefs, men of importance. Had the one who escaped remained in the neighborhood, watching the preparations for the drive, following it day by day, waiting for the opportunity to avenge his comrade? Sudden's thoughts reverted to the moccasin prints he had found when Eden was stricken down. No Indian had fired that shot, but one might have been spying on the camp and driven away by the advent of the assassin. If this theory were correct, the gLrl's peril was indeed dire.

  He experienced no difficulty in following the trail since neither pursuer nor pursued had any other thought than speed. The deeper indentations of the animal carrying the double burden could be distinguished.

  At a point where the foliage overhead made the wood almost dark, he came upon evidences that a struggle had taken place; the carpet of pine needles had been violenUy disturbed, and on the bole of a tree was a blotch of blood. Had Sandy caught his man? Sudden did not think so—the indications suggested that it was the other way

  about. A careful examination of the nearby tree trunks showed that the ground behind several was slightly flattened. Moreover, the trail of the two horses continued on through the wood.

  "That hombre had it all planned out," the cowboy muttered. "They were waitin' here for a pursuin' party. Well, Sandy ain't dead, seemin'ly, or they'd 'a' scalped an' left him."

  Somewhat cheered by this reflection, he rode on, noting that the bloodstains recurred at intervals. Presentiy he emerged from the timber and at once pulled up; an increase in the hoofprints showed that other riders had joined the pair he was following.

  "The ambushin' braves picked up their bosses 'bout here," he surmised. "Must be near a dozen of 'em. Now we gotta watch out."

  He went on cautiously. But he had to take some risks,* for the day was advancing and it would be hopeless to follow the trail in the dark. A Uttie later he came to a narrow ravine littered with boulders, debris wrested by the weather from the rock walls. Pacing slowly along, eyes alert for any sound or movement, he saw something which brought an oath to his hps lying face downward at the side of the gully was a bound and gagged man. Sudden shd from his saddle and turned him over; it was Sandy. As he stooped to remove the gag, a rope swished, he was flung violentiy backwards, and a savage war cry pealed out. Realizing that he, too, had been tricked, he grabbed at a gun but a crashing blow from behmd robbed him of reason.

  When Sudden regained his senses he was lying on his back, hands tied and unable to find out the extent of his injury. In the semi-darkness he could see that he was inside an Indian wigwam.

  "So they got me," he said aloud. "If my head didn't hurt so much I'd say it was sohd bone. Wonder where Sandy is?"

  " 'Lo, Jim," a low voice answered. "You come to life again?"

  "No, I'm dead from the neck up," was the disgusted reply. "Of aU tiie fools "

  "It was neat, allasame," Sandy consoled. "They knowed

  you'd hop off to tend to me—any fella would. All they had to do was squat behind the rocks an' rope you. First time I ever figured as the bait in a trap."

  "Where's Miss Carol?"

  "Right here, wore out an' sleepin'. What d'you reckon they'll do to us, Jim?"

  "Cuff our ears an' tell us to be good boys in the future, don't you reckon?" was his sarcastic reply, and then, "Shucks, we'll find a way out." After a pause, "There was blood on the trail; you hurt?"

  "No, I winged one when they jumped me," Sandy explained.

  "Jeff an' the boys'll search us out," Sudden said.

  "Don't bet on it. Soon after they collected you the main bunch branched off, takin' your boss an' mine. One brave reckoned on ridin' the black but that pet o' yores just planted both hind hoofs on his chest. After that, they elected to lead him. Well, the rest of us struck a stream, waded down it for near half a mile, an' then went along a stony gulch where a herd o' buffalo wouldn't leave a trace."

  Sudden was sUent; this put a different complexion on matters. The rescue party would follow the prints of the shod horses and probably blunder into a trap just as he and Sandy had done.

  There was a sHght movement in the gloom on the far side of the wigwam; the third prisoner had awakened.

  "Sandy," the girl whispered. "Did I hear Mister Green's voice?"

  "Shore, I'm here. Miss Carol," Sudden replied.

  "Thank heaven," she said. "I feared you were—killed.'* He smiled grimly into the darkness; she did not realize that death might yet be a boon to crave for. Still speaking in a low voice, she went on, "Mister Green, the Indian who brought me here is the other—the one who got away."

  It gave Sudden no pleasure to find that his conjecture had proved correct. Affecting a jocularity he did not feel, he said:

  "Persevering beggar; we'll have to discourage him some."

  "I'm—scared," she confessed.

  "Don't you be," he urged, and then lied nobly, "the

  boys'll be along any time now an' snake us outa this mess."

  The flap of the tent was flung aside and a savage, carrying a lighted pine knot, stalked in. He shot one triumphant glance at the girl, strode across to Sudden and stooped, thrusting the torch almost into the cowboy's face. For an instant he gazed and then a flash of ferocious joy illumined the dark eyes
.

  "Danmation, he remembers me," the captive reflected. "Trust an Injun for that."

  Spitting out a few rapid sentences in his own tongue, the Indian, after testing the bonds of all three, ghded away.

  "What did he say?" Sandy thoughtlessly inquired.

  Sudden, though he could not have given a hteral translation, gathered sufficient to know that he had been promised a slow and very agonizing end. Not wishing to further alarm the girl, his reply was evasive:

  "He's goin' to have a pow-wow with me in the momin'."

  Daylight brought them visitors, an armed brave and a squaw bearing platters of food, pieces of cooked flesh and cakes of meal, with which they had to deal as best they could with bound hands. One unacquainted with Indians might have argued from this that they were not yet to die, but Sudden knew it was but a refinement of cruelty; a man weak from want of food would succumb to torture sooner.

  When they had eaten, the redskin removed the bonds from Sudden's ankles and pointed to the entrance of the tent. The cowboy saw the alarm in the girl's eyes and forced a grin on his set Ups.

  "Goin' to have a word with Foxy," he said. "Back soon."

  "What does it really mean?" Carol's white Ups whispered, as the pair went out.

  Sandy was cursing softly but vividly. "It means—hell," he groaned.

  They heard a fierce yell of execration as the captive appeared, and in an agony of fear, dragged themselves to the opening of the wigwam. The sight they saw did not reassure them.

  The camp was of fair size, consisting of more than a score of tents, set in a rude circle, and hedged in by trees and brush. Round the open space in the center the whole tribe was gathered, men, women, and children, shrieking and yeUing. The hubbub increased as the white man was conducted to a large tree on the edge of the clearing. Two more warriors now joined the first. Releasing his hands, they gripped a wrist apiece, forced his arms back and again secured them behind the tree trunk. The position was intensely painful and rendered the sufferer as helpless as a tied steer.

  No sooner was this done than the onlookers surged forward, broke into an eerie chant, and began to circle the tree in a wild dance. Though they shook their weapons in his face, not one of tiie dancers attempted to touch the prisoner. Interminably, as it seemed to the object of it, the monotonous dirge went on. All the tribe were not taking part; on the far side of the clearing stood a group of Indians whose plumed heads showed that they were chiefs; among them was Black Bear.

  Wooden-faced, the bound man stared stolidly at the dancing devils who mocked as they passed him. His head still throbbed from the rough treatment of yesterday and his arm muscles ached under the unnatural strain to which they were being subjected, but he knew he must show no sign of weakness. It would be Sandy's turn next, and then the girl; the eyes of Red Fox had plainly told her fate.

  A raucous command rang out and the droning ring broke and swept back, forming in a half-circle on the far side of the clearing. From among the chiefs Red Fox strode, his feathers fluttering in the faint breeze, to pause a few paces from the prisoner. His dark face was ahght with savage triumph.

  "Paleface dog!" he hissed.

  "For the slaying of Running Deer, my brother, you shall die many times," the chief went on, and the cowboy knew the reason for the long delay and carefully prepared vengeance. "On your knees and shall beg for death and it shall not come."

  Sudden's expression was contemptuous. "Red Fox has a big mouth," he said. "He might frighten a papoose."

  He knew that the shaft had gone home, though only a tremor of rage betrayed the fact; the redskin was crafty.

  "Red Fox has sharp teeth but will not bite too soon," he countered. "Yet if Ae white dog desires a speedy death, he shall have his chance."

  He stepped back, drew a short, heavy-shafted knife from his belt, and glanced pridefully round at his audience. Then his right arm swung up, down, and like a streak of silver the blade flashed through the sunlight and embedded itself in the tree trunk. Sudden felt a trickle of warm blood and realized that the keen edge, missing his head by a hair's breadth, had nicked his ear. The thrower, bent sUghtly forward, watched the result of his effort with evil enjoyment.

  "Move, and earn the death you will presently pray for," he called out.

  A medley of mocking yeUs came from the spectators and a score of voices repeated the taunt; they and the cunning devil who had uttered it knew that the invitation could not be accepted. However desperate his situation, a sane, healthy man will hold on to life as long as possible, and though Sudden could see no chance of escape, he cherished a hope that he might somehow get free and go down fighting. So he schooled his aching muscles and became as motionless as the tree against which he stood.

  With steady, imwinking eyes, he saw the fling ol the brown arm again, the gleam of the twinkling steel, and felt the wind of the blade on his cheek. The second knife missed him by less than an inch. Amid the shouts of admiration for the prowess of their chief, were jeers for the man who had declined to die. Sudden was concerned with something else; from behind had come a hoarse whisper:

  "Yore ban's is free. When that varmint comes to git his stickers, grab one an' let him have it. Then jump for the tepee, git yore guns, and gimme a chance to start the gal an' yore friend off. There'll be a boss waitin' for you."

  Like a dazed man, the cowboy listened. The voice was one he had heard before but in the stress of the moment he could not place it. He could feel that his wrists had

  been loosed and lowered his arms slightly to relieve the numbing ache. He looked at Red Fox; the chief was strutting to and fro, enjoying his triumph, and seemed to be in no hurry to fetch his weapons. Sudden wanted him nearer.

  "Red Fox is clumsy," he announced loudly. "An Apache or Kiowa boy could throw the knife better."

  Like a stimg man the savage whirled, his dusky features aflame with fury.

  "White spawn!" he cried. "I will cut off your ears with the knives; I will pin your fingers one by one to the tree."

  He stepped forward and that was the moment the victim had been waiting for. Snatching one of the knives, he balanced it on his palm for an instant, and then hurled it at the advancing savage. With a strangled cry Red Fox crumpled up, the steel buried to the haft in his throat.

  For one staggering moment there was silence and then the petrified onlookers saw the man they had beUeved to be securely tied leap across the open space and vanish into one of the wigwams. The sight restored their power to move and with a ferocious threatening howl, they rushed in pursuit.

  Sudden found the tent empty. Buckling on his belt, he drew both guns and sprang to the entrance. A surging wave of maddened redskins was sweeping down upon him, and a cloud of arrows greeted his appearance, piercing the bufl[alo hide walls of the wigwam, and whistling past his ears. His Colts spouted flame and before that continuous hail of hurtling lead the charge withered and broke, the Indians scattering in all directions. But he knew the respite was but momentary; they would surround him, and then. ... Reloading Ins weapons, he became aware that someone had entered, and swung about. He saw a brown-paint-smeared face, feathered scalp-lock, and his thumb was on the point of releasing the hammer when the intruder spoke:

  "Hold on thar, friend; I ain't no war-whoop."

  It was the voice of the man who had freed him, and now he remembered it as that of the "still-hunter" who had come into their camp on the Colorado. Tyson gave him no time for questions.

  "The gal is away on yore black an' yore friend with

  her, though he balked some at leavin' you," he said. "There's a hoss waitin' an' you ain't got but a minit— them devils is closin' in, which is why they've stopped yappin'." He pointed to the back of the wigwam, where a long slit in the hide covering provided an exit, adding, "It'll be nip an' tuck as it is."

  "What about you?" the cowboy asked,

  "I'm stayin'," was the jaunty reply. "I c'n pass as one of 'em."

  Sudden did not attempt to dissuade him; Tyson eviden
tly knew what he was about. He held out a hand.

  "This puts me deep in yore debt," he said.

  "Nary a bit—I ain't forgot that grub an' smokin'," was the reply. "Head due west an' hump yoreself."

  Sudden shd through the opening and found the horse. Being Indian property there was no saddle, but the hack-amore bridle was all the cowboy needed and in a trice he was on the beast's back and spurring for the open. A shout of rage and a few spasmodic arrows greeted his appearance and a redskin rose out of the long grass and sprang at him, only to go down with a shriek under the plunging feet. A score of leaping strides and the fugitive knew that he was safe for tiie time. He would be pursued, but the Indians had first to secure their ponies and this would give him a fair start. Nevertheless, he pressed on at full speed, casting an occasional glance at the trail, where the prints of shod horses seemed to indicate that he was following his friends.

  Sudden had covered but a few miles when, from the crest of a long slope, he saw the pair he was in search of, and uttered a man-sized curse when he realized that they were waiting for him. With a violent gesture he signed them to go on and let his own mount feel the spurs. His greeting, when he ranged alongside, was hardly one of gratitude.

  "Have you lost yore wits?" he asked Sandy. "You oughta be a coupla miles further away right now."

  "We were anxious about you," the girl explained. "I insisted on waiting."

  Sudden looked around disgustedly. "There ain't a hole we could hide in," he said.

  As they surmounted another incline a faint whoop was borne to them on the breeze, and back on the trail was a billowing cloud of dust in which tiny dark forms could be dimly distinguished. Sudden's Ups clamped together as he studied the animal he bestrode. Sandy was riding his own horse, which was a good one.