Boy Ranchers in Camp; Or, The Water Fight at Diamond X

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XIV

  A NIGHT ATTACK

  Instantly the boy ranchers came to a halt, standing there in thetunnel, beside the running water. They had nearly reached the otherend of the flume, and could dimly see, ahead of them, a faint glow,which told of daylight to come. Bud, who was carrying the lantern,made shift to hide it behind the bodies of himself and his cousins, sothat the unknown, approaching, might not have them at a disadvantage,he being in the dark.

  "Who you reckon it is?" asked Nort. He and his brother were rapidlyfalling into the custom of using the picturesque if not always eleganttalk of the west. Nort spoke in a whisper, and Bud answered in thesame tone.

  "Can't imagine who it may be," spoke the western lad, "but if it'sHank, Del Pinzo, or any of their gang----"

  He did not finish, but a slight movement told that he was freeing his.45 in its holster, an example quickly followed by Nort and Dick.

  Meanwhile the steps continued to approach, echoing loudly in thevaulted tunnel, as if the maker of them had no design to conceal hismovements. In another few seconds the boys saw, looming in front ofthem, as displayed by the gleam of their half-hidden lantern, a bulkyfigure. At the same moment the figure seemed to become aware of thepresence in the tunnel of others besides himself.

  "Who's there?" came in sharp challenge.

  And what a relief it was to the boy ranchers when they heard that voice.

  "Slim!" cried Bud. "Slim Degnan!"

  "That you, Bud?" called the foreman of Diamond X ranch, as herecognized the voice of his employer's son, while Bud, in turn, sensedwhom the looming figure was.

  "Sure!" Bud joyously answered. "And Nort and Dick are here! Say,what's the matter with our water? Is there a stoppage at the dam?"

  "Nary a stop, but your dad got a telephone from your side-partners atthe valley camp, saying you'd started through the tunnel to see whatcaused the shut-off. I happened to be over near Square M, seeing if Icould get on the track of that cattle epidemic, and they relayed yourdad's message on to me. So I hit the trail for here."

  "What was dad's message?" Bud wanted to know.

  "Why, he said you, and them tenderfeet---- No, I'll take _that_ back!"Slim hastened to say as he recalled all that Nort and Dick had done."Anyhow, he said they shouldn't have allowed you to come in the tunnelalone, and he asked some of the men, from this end, to go in and see ifthey could locate you."

  "You found us," said Bud.

  "Well," resumed Slim, "I just got here, heard the news and I startedin. Some of the others are coming, but I guess we don't need to makeany search. You're here!"

  "And more by good luck than good management," asserted Dick.

  "How's that?" asked Slim, as they all started for the opening at theriver end of the tunnel, where daylight dimly showed.

  "Why, when we started in at the other side the stream was dry,"explained Bud. "There wasn't a drop coming through the pipe into thereservoir, and we left, early this morning, to see what the troublewas. When we got half way through the stream suddenly began flowing,and there was a regular flood. Only that we found a ledge to climb upon, we'd been drowned!"

  "As bad as that!" gasped Slim.

  "Every bit!" Dick asserted.

  "But tell me," went on Bud, "did the water stop at the river end, Slim?Was there any stoppage at the dam or pipe?"

  "Nary a stop, Bud," Slim answered. "They told me, when I started in,that the water had been flowing all night, as usual, and they didn'tsee why you claimed there was none at your end."

  "By Zip Foster! But there's something mighty strange here!" cried theboy rancher.

  "You intimated good and plenty that time!" declared Slim as he and theboys reached the river end of the tunnel, where the intake pipe tookthe water from the Pocut stream, delivering it to the tunnel.

  "But here's a queer part of it," went on Dick, as they joined the othercowboys who were preparing to follow Slim in, and search for theDiamond X lads. "No such body of water, as so nearly overwhelmed us,ever came through this pipe," and he pointed to the one that tapped thedammed-up water of the river.

  "That's right!" agreed Bud. "This thing gets worse and worse! We'llnever get to the bottom of this mystery!"

  "You're right!" declared one of the cowboys. "When you're dealing withthem underground water-courses you never know what you're up against.The old Indians and Spaniards who lived here hundreds of years ago hadtheir own troubles, and maybe they wished them same troubles on to you."

  "What you mean?" asked Slim. "That's all bosh!"

  "Bosh nothin'!" declared another. "You read history an' you'll getlots of cases where streams showed up, and then vanished undermountains, more than once."

  "A heap sight you know about _hist'ry_!" laughed Slim in good-naturedraillery.

  "Well, this is sure queer, anyhow!" declared Bud. "Is there anyhistory of the stream that waters our valley?" he asked the cowboy whohad made the assertion.

  "Not your particular one," was the answer, "but there's lots of justsuch cases mentioned--hidden water-courses and all that."

  "Well, there's something wrong," agreed Bud, "and I believe there mustbe some place along the tunnel where our water shunts itself off attimes, and turns itself on again. We were looking for just such aplace."

  "And you didn't find it?" asked Slim.

  "Nary a find!" asserted Bud.

  "But we aren't going to give up, just on that account!" said Nort.

  "Bet you not!" added his brother. "We'll try it again, and take acanoe with us, so if the dry water-course suddenly turns wet, we canpaddle along it."

  "Well, it seems to be all right now," spoke Slim. "And you'd better'phone your father that you're all right, Bud. He'll be anxious tohear."

  And after Mr. Merkel had been assured, over the wire, of the safetransit of his son and nephews through the tunnel, the boys' camp wascalled up, to let Old Billee and the others know that no accident hadhappened.

  "Gosh! I'm glad to hear that!" said the veteran cowboy over the wire."When we see that there water come gushin' out, we thought sure you wasgoners, Bud!"

  "Then the water is running again?" Bud asked.

  "Absolutely!" declared Billee. "You comin' back here?"

  "Sure! But _over_ the mountain--not _under_ it."

  Bud and his boy rancher chums remained that night at the storesettlement near the dam, getting beds in what passed for a hotel. Itwas too late to secure horses and ride over Snake Mountain trail backto Flume Valley.

  While thus having a night of leisure, and seeing such sights as were tobe viewed in the little town, Bud and his chums discussed the queersituation of the mysteriously disappearing and reappearing water. But,talk as they did, and venture opinions as they and their cowboy friendsdid, no one could hit on a solution.

  "We'll just have to make another and more careful inspection," declaredNort.

  "That's what!" agreed Bud.

  They learned from Slim that the situation regarding the cattle epidemicat Square M ranch was not much better. All stock which had not beenexposed to the infection had been removed, either to Diamond X,Triangle B or Flume Valley, and the infected steers remaining therewere being treated by a veterinarian whom Mr. Merkel had engaged.

  "But they're slowly dying off," Slim reported. "And I don't believeSquare M ranch will ever be safe to use again."

  "Why not?" asked Bud.

  "Because there must be some infection in the grass there to have madeso many of the cattle sicken and die."

  "Maybe it was something else," suggested Nort.

  "Well, maybe," assented the foreman. "It's about as mysterious as thatunderground river of yours. Had any more warnings, Bud?"

  "No, I guess they're done with. And I believe it's a natural cause,and not due to any work of enemies, that accounts for the queer way ourflume acts."

  "Um!" spoke Slim musingly, and that was all he would say.

  Borrowing horses from their friends, the boy ranchers next day m
ade thetrip over Snake Mountain and returned to camp, finding matters there ingood shape. There was an abundance of water in the reservoir, and thepipe was flowing freely.

  For more than a week nothing happened. The cattle at Flume Valley,including those of the boy ranchers, and the herd transferred fromSquare M to save it from the epidemic, were doing well, abundant grassand water being their portions.

  There was no lack of hard work for the boys and their cowboyassistants, for it was not all easy sailing. Occasionally bunches ofsteers would stray, and have to be driven back by hard riding. Therewere night watches to be carried on, and another bunch of cattle wasshipped away.

  Bud, Dick and Nort hazed them over to the railroad, and on the trip asmall-sized stampede gave them all they wanted to handle. But theywere true sons of the west, and did not complain.

  "Whew! That was hot, while it lasted!" exclaimed Bud, as he andcousins managed to get the stampeding animals quieted, after they hadtried so hard to run off by themselves, in varying directions.

  "Yes, a thing like that gives you an appetite," remarked Dick.

  "As if _you_ ever needed any stimulant!" laughed Nort. "I never sawthe time yet when you had to be offered an inducement to sit up togrub!"

  "You either!" retorted the stout lad. "But, speaking of grub, when dowe eat, Bud?"

  "Might as well make it right soon," was the answer. "Now that we havethe steers quieted they'll be glad enough to take it easy. I plannedto water 'em at the next stopping place, and that will give us a chanceto see what Buck Tooth put up for us."

  "Stay there all night; will we?" asked Nort.

  "Might as well," assented his cousin. "No use running all the fat offour stock. We want 'em to weigh as heavy as possible."

  This was good business tact on the part of the boy ranchers. Forcattle are generally sold by weight, either "on the hoof," which meansalive and as they stand in the stock yards, or by weight after beingslaughtered. In the case of ranchers "on the hoof" is generallyunderstood.

  And driving a bunch of steers at too great a speed from the ranch tothe railroad would make them thin, "running off their fat," so tospeak, thus losing all the advantages of the rich fodder to which theyhad had access. And when it is considered that it is not at alldifficult to cause a steer to lose from ten to fifteen pounds by meansof poor driving, and when to this statement is added the fact that thisloss is multiplied in hundreds of steers, Bud's state of mind caneasily be imagined.

  "Yes, we'll get 'em quieted down, and take it easy ourselves,"suggested the Western lad. And, a little later when some of the steersbroke into a run, Nort exclaimed:

  "Are they stampeding again?"

  "No. I reckon they just smell water," Bud answered.

  This proved to be true, and this contagion spread all through the herd,though with no ill effects, for the water hole was not far off and,reaching it, the animals stopped to drink.

  There was some confusion and excitement because so many thirsty cattleall wanted to drink at once, but it did not last long, and Bud, Nortand Dick were glad when they could slip from their saddles, tossing thereins over their ponies' heads as an intimation to the animals not tostray.

  "Oh boy! But I'm tired!" exclaimed Nort, sighing.

  "Add hungry to that and I'm with you," said his brother. For there hadbeen days of long and difficult work in preparing this bunch of cattlefor shipment.

  "Getting tired of the game?" asked Bud, as he rustled up some sticks ofgreasewood to make a fire over which they might boil coffee and frybacon.

  "Not on your life!" laughed Nort. "We're in the game to stick!"

  "Sure thing!" asserted Dick.

  They made a simple but ample meal over the camp fire and then, asevening settled down over the vast prairies, and quiet enfolded themlike some soft mantle, they lay on their blankets and gazed at thefeeding cattle.

  The steers were very quiet now, evidently feeling quite satisfied withthe manner in which they had been treated, and having, of course, nointimation of the fate in store for them. They had food and water andthat is all they required. Overhead was the cloudless sky, in whichsparkling stars were beginning to stud themselves.

  "I hope the market is well up in price when we get to the yards,"observed Bud, idly chewing on a spear of grass.

  "Yes, it would be dandy to get a big price for this stock," agreed Nort.

  The boy ranchers were rapidly becoming interested in the business endof their venture, as they had been, for some time, in the morepicturesque side. The difference of a fraction of a cent in the priceof cattle on the hoof meant the difference of several hundred ofdollars where there were many tons of meat to be considered.

  "Well, we'd better ride herd a little while, to make sure they getbedded down quietly," suggested Bud, as it began to get darker. "Thenwe'll roll up and snooze ourselves."

  This "bedding down" of the cattle, meaning thereby inducing them to getquiet enough so they would lie down contentedly chewing their cuds, waspart of the routine of a cowboy's life.

  "Some of 'em have already started in," observed Nort, as he went up tohis pony, which, with the other two animals, had been contentedlygrazing. "Looks like they'd lived here all their lives."

  He indicated a score or more of the steer's that were stretched out onthe rich grass which at once formed their food and their bed.

  "Yes, I reckon we'll have a quiet night," observed Bud.

  The three chums slowly rode around the bunch of cattle, the ladsoccasionally breaking into the chorus of some song.

  The cattle seemed to like this singing--not that this is to beconsidered a compliment to the voices of Nort, Dick and Bud, thoughtheir tones were far from unmusical. But the fact is that animals ofmost sorts are fond of music in any form, and nothing so seems tosoothe and quiet a bunch of cattle, especially at night, as the singingof the herders.

  Perhaps it is due to this fact that we have so many cowboy songs withan interminable number of verses, in which there is little sense orsequence--a mere jumble of words, often repeated. The cattle seem tocare more for the tune than for the sentiment.

  At any rate the bunch from Flume Valley grew more quiet as the nightbecame darker, and when the remains of their camp fire gleamed dully inthe blackness, as they made their way back to it, Bud and his cousinsconsidered their work done for the day.

  "We won't stand any regular watch," Bud said. "I think they'll be allright. But if we should hear a disturbance--I mean any one of us--hecan awaken the others, and we'll do whatever we have to."

  "And if we have any luck we won't have to roll out," observed Nort, ashe spread out his blankets and tarpaulin, which last was to keep thedampness of the ground away.

  "Then I'm going to cross my fingers for luck," observed Dick.

  Save for the occasional distant howl of a coyote, or the uneasymovement of an occasional steer, with, now and then, the clashing ofthe horns of some of the beasts, there was silence in the camp. Budwas the first to fall asleep, because he was more accustomed to thissort of life than were his cousins. But they were rapidly falling inwith the ways of the west, which teaches a wayfarer to consider homewherever he hangs up his hat, and his bed any place he can throw hisblanket and saddle.

  But finally Nort and Dick dropped off into slumber, which becamesounder as the hours of night passed. All three of the boy rancherswere tired and they were in the most healthful state imaginable,brought about by their life in the open.

  "What hour it was Dick had no idea, but he was suddenly awakened bysensing some movement near him--too near for comfort considering hisexposed sleeping position. For he felt something cold and clammy atthe back of his neck, as though a chunk of ice, or a hand dipped incold water, had touched him.

  "Hi! Who's doing that?" yelled Dick, for he had a sudden dream that hewas back at school, and some one was playing a trick on him. "Cut itout!"

  No sooner had he spoken than he realized that he had awakened Nort andBud, for by the flickering l
ight of the embers of the fire he could seethem sitting up and staring over at him.

  "What's the matter?" demanded Bud.

  "Something tickled the back of my neck," declared Dick. "I guess acoyote must have been picking up scraps of food, and smelled of me.Hope he didn't take me for a dead one!"

  "Coyote!" exclaimed Bud. "I don't believe you could get one to comenear you, not as long as you breathed. It must have been a----"

  "Snake!" broke in Nort, without thinking of what the word might mean.

  "Wow! Don't say that!" cried Dick, and he leaped up, scattering hisblanket and tarpaulin each in a different direction.

  "Shut up!" commanded Bud, laughing. "Do you want to start the cattleoff again? If it was a snake it won't hurt you, and it was probablymore scared than you, Dick."

  "Yes--maybe!" said the other. He lighted a stick of greasewood at thefire, and looked about his part of the sleeping ground. But he foundnothing in the animal line.

  "Guess you dreamed it!" said Nort.

  "I certainly did not!" emphatically declared his brother.

  "Well, go to sleep again," advised Bud. "If you feel it a second timecall me!"

  "Huh! I'll do that all right!" declared Dick. He carefully shiftedhis sleeping place, making a searching examination of the ground beforespreading out his tarpaulin. And he was some little time in droppingoff to slumber again.

  But there was no further disturbance in the night, and in the morningBud looked for marks on the ground, declaring the visitor had been aprairie dog, which Dick declared his unbelief in, sticking to the snaketheory as being more sensational.

  After breakfast they started to drive the cattle again, reaching therailroad yards and successfully transacting the business of sellingtheir stock.

  It was the night that Bud and his cousins returned from having driventhe steers to the railroad yard that something happened which againbrought to the front all their worries and anxieties.

  They were all seated about the camp fire, and Pocut Pete had justarisen, remarking that he would get ready for his turn at night-riding,when there was a sort of hissing in the air over the heads of thosegathered about the blaze, and something hit the ground in the midst ofthe circle.

  "What's that?" exclaimed Nort

  "An arrow!" answered Bud, and so it proved. An Indian arrow--of thesort used by the Redmen years ago, and hard to pick up now, even asrelics--quivered in the ground near the blaze. And by the flickeringflames it was seen that a paper was rolled about it.

  In an instant Bud had leaped to his feet, plucked the arrow from theground, and torn off the paper. By the light of the fire he read it.

  "Another warning!" cried Bud.

  "What does it say?" demanded Dick.

  Bud read:

  "Two wasn't enough. This is the third and last! Leave Flume Valley!"

  There was silence for a moment, and then Bud, crushing the scrawledwarning in his hand, cried:

  "I'd like to see 'em drive me out!"

  "That's th' way to talk!" shouted Yellin' Kid. "We'll stick!"

  They gathered about, discussing the sinister warning that had been sentto them in such a sensational manner. There was no clue to tell whereit had come from, for no one had noticed the direction whence the arrowhad been shot. The message itself was written, or, rather, printed ona piece torn from a paper bag, and the writing was in pencil. Thepaper was common enough in those parts, and the use of printing, inplace of handwriting, would, it seemed, preclude any tracing.

  "We'd better keep a double watch to-night," suggested Bud, when a hastyinspection in the vicinity of the camp had revealed no one.

  "We shore will!" asserted Old Billee.

  The night hours passed, a double guard watching with keen eyes for anysign of strangers approaching the reservoir or the cattle. But, inspite of all precautions, the half-expected happened.

  It was toward morning, when Nort and Dick had turned out of warm bedsto relieve Pocut Pete and Snake Purdee that a confused noise at theextreme end of the valley gave notice that something was wrong.

  "What's that?" asked Bud, who had ridden into camp at the conclusion ofhis tour of duty.

  As if in answer came distant shots, the howls of coyotes and thesnorting of cattle, mingled with a rush which told its own story.

  "Stampede!" yelled Bud. "They're trying to stampede our herd and drive'em off! Come on, fellows!"

  And all within the sound of his voice rallied to repel the nightattack, for such it proved to be.

  Leaping into their saddles, Nort and Dick followed Bud toward the sceneof the disturbance. They saw the cattle running to and fro, and in theslivers of light that leaped from the muzzles of guns which were shotoff at intervals, they descried figures swiftly riding backward andforward, evidently trying to cut out bunches of cattle.

  Action had followed rapidly on the heels of the sinister arrow warning.