Rebel Spurs

by Andre Norton

  6

  He worked in the dust of the smaller corral, with Croaker's help, adaptinghis knowledge of eastern gentling the way he had mentally planned itduring the days since he had accepted the job. With the excited andfrightened colt roped to the steady mule Drew tried to think horse, feelhorse, even be horse, shutting out all the rest of the world just as hehad on the day of the race. He must sense the colt's terror of the rope,his horror of the strange human smell--the man odor which was sofrightening that a blanket hung up at a water hole could keep wild horsesaway from the liquid they craved.

  Drew talked as he had to Shiloh, as if this black could understand everyword. He twitched the lead rope, and Croaker paced sedately about in awide circle, dragging the colt with him. Drew then reached across the bonyback of the mule, pressed his hand up and down the sweaty, shivering hideof the black. No hurry, must not rush the steady, mild gesture to thehorse that here was a friend.

  The Kentuckian had no idea of the passing of time; it was all part of theknowledge that slow movements, not swift ones, would prevent new panic.The blanket was shown, allowing the black to sniff down its surface,before it was flapped back and forth across the colt's back, and finallyleft there. Now the saddle. And with that cinched into place, the blackstood quietly beside Croaker.

  Drew mounted the mule and rode. The saddled black, loosened from the twintie, followed the mule twice around the corral. The rider dismounted fromCroaker, was up on the black. For perilous seconds he felt flesh andmuscles tense under his weight; then the body relaxed.

  His hand went up. "Open the gate!" he called softly.

  Seeming to realize he was free of the pole walls, the black exploded in aburst of speed which was close to Shiloh's racing spurt. Drew let him go.Three-quarters of an hour later he rode back, the black blowing foam, butanswering the rein.

  He found _Don_ Cazar, Bartolome, and Hilario Trinfan waiting for him bythe corral. The mustanger walked forward with a lurch, his head thrown farback so he could look up at Drew from under the wide brim of his sombrero.

  "This you could not do with a true wild one," he commented.

  "I know that, _senor_. This colt was not an enemy, one who has alreadybeen hunted by man. He was only afraid...."

  "But you have the gift. It is born in one--the gift. A man has it, and thehorse always knows, answers to it. Ride with me, _senor_, and try thatgift on the wild ones!"

  "Someday--" That was true. Someday Drew did want to ride after the wildones. Anse's stories of horse hunting on the Texas plains had firststirred that desire. Now it was fully awake in him.

  _Don_ Cazar inspected the black closely. "Well, Bartolome, what have youto say now?"

  "_Senor_ Kirby knows his business," the Mexican admitted. "Though I thinkalso that this was no true wild one. He will make a good remount, but heis no fighter such as others I have seen here."

  Drew unsaddled and left the black in with Croaker; he fed both animals abait of oats. In the morning he would be at this again. And he still hadnot solved the problem of roping. He could not expect Teodoro to come tohis aid a second time. He started slowly back to the bunkhouse.

  "_Senor_--?"

  Drew raised his wet head from the bunkhouse basin and reached out for asacking towel. "Yes?"

  Leon sat on a near-by bunk. "I have thought of something--"

  "Sounds as if it might be important," Drew commented.

  "_Don_ Cazar, he has offered money--a hundred dollars in gold--to have offthe Range that killer pinto stud. But that one, he is like the Apache; heis not to be caught."

  "Can't someone pick him off with a rifle?"

  "Perhaps. Only that has also been tried several times, _senor_. My father,he thought he had killed him only two months ago. But the very next weekdid not the pinto come to steal mares from the bay _manada_? It must havebeen that he was only creased. No, he is a _diablo_, and he hides in therocks where he cannot easily be seen. But there is a plan I have thoughtof--" Leon hesitated, and Drew guessed he was about to make a suggestionwhich he believed might meet with disapproval.

  "And this plan of yours?" Why had Leon come to him with it? Surely youngRivas had better and closer friends at the Stronghold. Why approach anewcomer?

  "That pinto--he is a fighter; he likes to fight. He will not allow anotherstud on the ground he claims."

  Drew was beginning to understand. Wild ones were sometimes trapped by abelled mare staked out to draw them in. But a stud to catch a fightingstud was another plan altogether.

  "You would offer him a fight?"

  "_Si_, but not a real fight. Just allow him to believe that there would beone. Pull him so out of hiding in the rocks--"

  "Using what stud for bait?"

  "_Senor_ Juanito--he said a stud that would fight too, like Shiloh."

  "Shiloh!" Drew wadded the towel in his fist and pitched it across theroom. "Shiloh!"

  Leon must have read something of Drew's blazing anger in his face, for theMexican's mouth went a little slack and his hand came up in an involuntarygesture as if to ward off a blow.

  "It is a good plan!" His boy's voice was thin in protest against Drew'sexpression.

  "It is a harebrained, dangerous scheme," began Drew; then he switched to aquestion. "Did Johnny Shannon suggest using Shiloh for bait, or was thatyour idea?"

  "_Senor_ Juanito--he said one must have a good horse, a fighter. But such ahorse would not be hurt. We would wait with rifles and shoot the pintoquickly before he attacked. There would be no harm to Shiloh, none at all._Senor_ Juanito said that. Only a trick to get the _diablo_ where we couldshoot. Maybe--" Leon's eyes dropped, a flush rose slowly on his browncheeks--"maybe it was very foolish. But when _Senor_ Juanito told it, itsounded well."

  "Did he tell you to ask me about it?"

  The flush darkened. "He did not say so, _senor_. But one would not do sucha thing without permission. Also, you should be one of the hunters, no?How else could we go?"

  "Well, there won't be any huntin' of that kind, Leon. Trinfan knows whathe's doin', and I don't think that pinto is goin' to be runnin' loose--oralive--much longer."

  Drew pulled a clean shirt over his head. What kind of game was JohnnyShannon trying to play? Apparently he had almost talked Leon into usingShiloh as bait in this fool stunt. Had he expected the kid to take thehorse without Drew's knowledge? Or for some reason had he wanted Leon tospill this? A trick to get Shiloh out of the Stronghold? But why?

  He buckled on his gun belt, settled the twin holsters comfortably.Shannon--what and why, he repeated silently. Nothing sorted out in hismind. Drew only felt a prickle of uneasiness which began between hisshoulder blades and ran a chill down his spine, as if rifle sights were onhim.

  But Shannon did not return to the Stronghold, and Drew was kept busy atthe corrals from dawn to dusk. In a month of hard work it was easy toforget what might only be fancies.