CHAPTER VII
THE SECRET VALLEY
“What’s the programme, Frank?” asked the Kentucky boy, a short timelater, after they had taken the horses into a little bay, which theColonel called a cul-de-sac, where they could be easily kept bypiling up some of the big rocks at the mouth; though one cowboy must beleft to guard them.
“As I understand it,” replied Frank, “it’s first a bite to eat, and thendown the canyon for ours. When we come to that hole in the wall, we’llslip through, and find out where we bring up.”
“But Frank, do you really believe all that herd passed through thatlittle opening? Why, they’d fill any sort of cave; and besides, howunder the sun would they get anything to eat?”
“Well, remember that I’m only guessing,” returned his chum; “but here’sthe way I figure it out. That cleft in the wall runs back some littleway, and perhaps keeps getting bigger all the while. Presently it turnsinto a regular trail over the rocks, that the cattle will follow singlefile. And mark me, Bob, sooner or later they’ll turn up in a valleyamong the mountains here, that no cowboy has ever set eyes on—that is,unless he’s in with Mendoza.”
“Sounds like a fairy story, Frank,” objected Bob, who was verypractical.
“Lots of things do, until you really pass through the experience, andthen you know they are the real article. I feel that my dad believes thesame way I do; and Bart Heminway, too. But we’ll know after a while,Bob, if we just hold our horses. There, get busy with some of that grubyou’re carrying. We don’t have to depend on getting game this time, inorder to make sure of a supper.”
The moon was up when they prepared to quit the spot. One rider was leftbehind to guard the saddle band.
Down the canyon then, they went like a bunch of shadows, flittingsilently along. All talking above whispers was positively forbidden.Reaching the spot where that mysterious opening occurred in the wall ofthe canyon, Scotty slipped inside without a moment’s delay, the othersfollowing after, one at a time.
Bob kept close behind his chum. He had several good reasons for that. Inthe first place Frank was sure-footed, and would serve as a guide to hisless experienced comrade. Then again, if there arose any occasion forcommunications, Bob wanted to be where he could whisper in his chum’sear.
Just as Frank had said he believed would prove to be the case, thatcleft in the rocks did turn out to be a narrow passage. It wound in andout for some distance. Once Bob saw the man in the lead strike a match,and look at the rocks at his feet. Scotty appeared quite satisfied withthe result of his examination; and Bob saw him showing something that hehad picked up, to the stockman.
Then the match went out; and the march was resumed.
“Look up, Bob!” whispered Frank, presently.
“Why, I can see the stars!” answered the other, also keeping his voicedown.
“Sure you can; which shows that we’ve come out from the passage and oncemore stand in the open. We’ve passed through one of the walls of themountains. This is some narrow valley back of the outer part. And it’ssure going to lead us to the hidden corral where Mendoza keeps all hisstolen stock!”
As they kept on Bob was fortified to undergo any amount of fatigue. Thethought of being connected with the expedition that might unearth thelong cherished secret of the rustlers was enough to give anyoneadditional courage and endurance.
Still, when an hour had passed, and they were still on the move, headmitted that he was getting a little tired.
Now and then they could get glimpses of the moon, though as a rule theirpassage was continued through dense shadows, where the overhanging rocksshut out the light; or the same result was obtained through the treesunder which the trail led.
Looking up from time to time Bob could see the outline of a ridge oneither side. He could not remember ever having looked upon such apeculiar formation during his previous visit to Thunder Mountain. ThenFrank’s surmise must have hit near the truth, and they were now movingalong a narrow little valley that was artfully concealed behind thecrest of the mountain.
“How about it, getting tired?” questioned Frank, when an opportunityarose that brought their heads close together.
“Oh! nothing to speak of,” replied the other; for Bob was proud, andwould never willingly admit that he lacked in nerve or ability to equalothers in anything undertaken.
“I’ve got a hunch that we must be near the turning-off place,” Frankwent on, with the idea of bolstering up the waning powers of his chum.
“That sounds as if you didn’t believe this might be the valley wherethey keep their stock,” remarked Bob, wondering a little.
“No more do I believe that it is,” Frank replied. “It’s lonely enough,all right, but there’s little save bare rock here; and cattle have tograze, you understand, Bob. Hold out a little longer, and I reckon we’regoing to run up against another quick turn. Perhaps it’ll be in theshape of a second passage under this ridge here on the left, that willshow us into this Mendoza’s retreat.”
The words, somehow, thrilled Bob. He realized that this was indeed aserious business upon which, in company with the Circle Ranch cowpunchers, he was now fully embarked. What the end would be it wasimpossible to more than conjecture.
Scotty was constantly on the watch, as though he, too, anticipated achange in the conditions, sooner or later, and did not mean to pass theturn by. Whenever the moon served, he would try to examine the groundmost carefully, evidently looking for signs that would tell of cattlehaving passed this way many times.
Once, when they had not been able to take advantage of the moon’s lightfor almost ten minutes, Scotty grew restless.
“He’s going to strike another match,” remarked Frank in his chum’s ear,as he saw the trailer getting down on hands and knees close to therocks.
His prediction proved to be true, for immediately afterward Bob saw asmall glow, with the face of Scotty pressed close to the ground, as hemoved back and forth, eagerly looking for something that seemed to bemissing.
“He don’t seem able to find it, Frank,” said Bob, guessing the truthfrom these signs.
“That’s what,” echoed his chum, who had arrived at that conclusion halfa minute before it struck Bob.
“What would that mean, then?” continued the Kentucky boy.
“Only that we must have passed by the place where the trail turnedaside,” Frank answered, quickly.
“Then we’ll have to go back again, and find it; is that so, Frank?”
“Just what we’ll do,” answered the other, adding: “There, Scotty istalking it over with dad and Bart. He’s telling them no stock have evercome up as high in the valley as this, and that we must go back to findwhere they broke out. But we’re bound to find it, you know, Bob.”
They did, and without any great trouble. Scotty, knowing that the secretpassage must be just a little below, was on the watch every foot of theway. And in the end he discovered another crevice in the side of themountain, through which undoubtedly the stock had been driven.
“Say, but there must have been considerable excitement around here, whenall those steers, cows and half-grown calves were hustled along thistrail,” Frank whispered, as in imagination he could see Mendoza’sMexican rustlers heading the drove off, and compelling the frightenedanimals to enter the second opening.
“I take off my hat to such drivers of cattle as those fellows,” remarkedBob, who did not understand how the thing could have been done.
This time they were only a short while in the narrow cut. All they hadto do was to follow straight ahead, and keep in single file. Every manwas also warned not to try to make haste, for they did not wish tobetray their presence by any unlucky stumble.
Scotty, in the van, was on the lookout for signs of a trap. He knew thatMendoza had long ago earned the name of the “Mexican rat” because of hiscunning; not only in hoodwinking those who tried to camp on his trail,but on account of his skill in laying snares for the feet of pursuers.More than one party had come to grief in
times past just when theyexpected they had the rustler chief in a hole.
Bob became suddenly aware of the fact that the creeping line hadstopped. On his arm he felt the hand of Frank Haywood; and this pressurewas the signal understood among them.
“Look up ahead!” was whispered in Bob’s ear; and as he turned his eyesobediently upward, he discovered what he took to be a giant fireflyglowing in the darkness of the mountainside—it would vanish, only toagain appear, like a small star!
The Saddle Boys at Circle Ranch; Or, In at the Grand Round-Up Page 7
