“Where’s the little ’un?” Eli asked, riding up to them as they were ready to proceed.
“Right over there,” Carole said. “He’d just gotten tangled in some grass. I cut it off his hooves. He’s fine now.”
Eli regarded her curiously. “Didn’t the cow give you some trouble?”
“She didn’t trust me at first, but we got along okay in the end.”
“I guess you did,” Eli said. With that, he urged his horse into a trot and got back to the work of herding.
“I think you just got an A-plus in roundups,” Stevie said.
“I think you’re right. I was expecting him to say, ‘Not bad—for a dude.’ ” Stevie giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Lisa asked, riding up to join them.
“Oh, it’s just Eli,” Stevie told her. “Carole just practically saved the life of a calf, risking her own at the same time, and Eli just gives her a nod.”
“Way to go!” Lisa said. “You must have been something to get a whole nod from Eli.”
Carole wanted to change the subject. “Come on,” she said. “We’re going to cross the creek a couple of hundred yards ahead. That should be interesting.”
The three girls and their horses hurried to catch up with the others, keeping a sharp eye out for strays as they went.
Stevie could see the creek when they rounded the next hillside. Eli had warned them that some of the calves could have trouble with the water, but this was a shallow crossing. She didn’t think any of the animals would have a problem with the rocks and water.
Like the other riders, Stevie had gotten used to the constant noise of the cattle. It sounded a bit like a traffic jam at rush hour. The moos were like honking horns, all indistinguishable from one another, all just part of the general herd noise.
But then she heard another honking, this one louder, more insistent, somehow more serious. Stevie looked over her shoulder to where she thought the sound came from. At first, all she saw was a dry patch of brush. Then she saw it wiggle. She turned Stewball around to get a better look. Soon she realized that some of what she thought was just brown bush was actually brown calf. There was a frightened bleating sound as the calf bellowed for attention once again. He was in trouble and he was scared.
Stevie and Stewball rode over to the calf. Before she dismounted, she wanted to have a plan so that she wouldn’t frighten the calf before she could be sure she could help him. She realized that the brown bush was a thorny bush, and that the thorns seemed to have caught in the calf’s soft hair. It was going to take a lot of work to get him loose. She thought she’d better get started right away.
Stevie spotted a place where she could hitch Stewball while she worked. It wouldn’t do to have him wander off. Carole and Lisa were farther ahead, and Kate was riding with her father. Stevie swung her right leg over the saddle and was about to lower herself to the ground when she heard a sound she couldn’t confuse with anything else in the whole wide world.
It was the sound of a rattlesnake, shaking his rattle furiously, about to strike!
Stewball knew the sound, too, and it scared him. He reared in terror, tossing Stevie to the ground like a sack of potatoes, then galloped off as fast as his legs could carry him.
At that instant, the little calf broke loose all by himself and trotted off to find his mother.
Stevie landed in the dusty earth by the thornbush. She landed hard on her side and hit her head on the ground. She was dizzy, and sore, and confused. For a moment, the world was a haze in which there was the distant bellowing of an unhappy calf, the vague pain in her ribs, and the sound of a horse’s hoofbeats, retreating. But one thing was clear. The rattling hadn’t stopped. When Stevie turned her head, she saw it.
There, not two feet from her, coiled to strike, was a diamondback rattler.
And his target was Stevie!
THE ONLY SOUND Stevie could hear was the viper’s rattling. The mooing of the herd and the thump of their hooves on the dry ground faded to a distant sound, insignificant compared to the insistent danger warning of the snake.
Then she heard a dog bark. Stevie’s eyes were riveted on the snake’s, and his to hers. She couldn’t see a dog, she was only barely aware of its presence. The dog growled.
The snake rose up, as if to see better. Every instinct Stevie had told her to flee, but she had the feeling that this snake liked moving targets. She was frozen where she sat in the dust, just a few feet away from the deadly creature.
The dog barked again. This time it was very close. Stevie could hear him panting excitedly as he approached her and the snake. She didn’t even dare to turn and see what kind of dog it was, but there was something familiar about the bark. And then, there was something even more familiar about the whistle that followed it.
Tomahawk barked again and then growled at the snake. The dog crept between Stevie and the snake and bared his teeth at the rattler.
Stevie looked up and behind her. Christine Lonetree was there, on her horse.
“It’s a rattler,” Stevie said. “Please help me!”
“You’re going to have to help yourself,” Christine said. “Back up slowly. Get out of the snake’s range. And get out of Tomahawk’s way.”
Stevie inched backward slowly but steadily, keeping her eye on the dog who stood between her and the rattlesnake. When she could, she stood up and retreated, still watching the two animals face off.
When she was about fifteen feet away, she circled the scene, standing near to where Christine was holding her horse still. Even the horse could sense danger. His nostrils flared and his ears lay back almost flat on his head.
When Christine was sure Stevie was safe, she whistled for Tomahawk. The dog’s ears flicked at the sound, but his body didn’t move and his eyes never left the snake.
Christine and Stevie watched in horror.
Tomahawk took a step forward, sniffing. The snake backed up. Its tongue flicked out. When it moved forward again, Tomahawk withdrew. The snake held still. Tomahawk advanced again. The snake remained where it was. Tomahawk growled. The snake snapped backward. Tomahawk bared his teeth. The snake shifted forward again. Tomahawk barked. The snake stood still for a second, then shifted backward.
It was like a primitive dance, acted out between ancient enemies. Neither seemed to want to strike. Neither seemed to want to back down.
The snake shook its rattle harder. That distracted Tomahawk. He glanced at the creature’s tail and reached forward with his nose. But this time he’d gone too far.
In an instant, the rattlesnake shot forward and punctured the dog’s shiny black nose with his deadly fangs. Later Stevie wondered if she’d actually seen it happen, or if it had been too fast for the human eye.
Tomahawk yowled, first in surprise, then in pain. He shook his head violently while the snake hung on, injecting his deadly poison into Christine’s German shepherd.
“Oh, no!” Stevie screamed. “It can’t be!” She wanted to run to the dog to help him. She wanted to kill the murderous snake with her bare hands. She wanted revenge.
“Don’t move!” Christine commanded.
Stevie froze.
It was over in a few seconds. The snake removed itself from Tomahawk, sank to the ground, and slithered off into the underbrush. Tomahawk, already weak from the poison, stumbled over to his mistress. Stevie was closer to the dog and caught him before he fell. She sat down and held the dog’s head in her lap.
“You saved my life, boy!” Stevie said to Tomahawk, patting him gently on his shoulder. Tears came to her eyes. “The snake got you, not me. You saved my life!”
The dog panted, breathing irregularly. He looked up into Stevie’s eyes and blinked. It almost seemed as if he were trying to reassure her, to tell her it was right that he should die and she should live. Then he shuddered.
Stevie cradled him gently, patting him, talking to him. Christine knelt next to them, frozen in shock, listening blankly to Stevie’s comforting words to Tomahawk. Stevie didn�
�t know what she was saying, but she wanted the dog to know that he was with someone who knew what he’d done, how he’d chosen to die in her place, and how thankful she was.
His tongue came out once to lick her hand. And then his eyes closed forever.
There was a silence then, more profound than any Stevie had ever known in her life. She held the dog as his life left him. Tears streamed down her face.
“He’s dead,” she told Christine when she looked up. “Tomahawk died saving me. He was a wonderful dog, and now he’s dead,” she finished desolately.
Christine’s face was filled with the same deep sadness that Stevie felt. Christine didn’t even like Stevie, but her dog had given up his life for hers.
“I’m sorry,” Stevie said. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was the only thing she could say.
Slowly, Stevie stood up. She lifted Tomahawk’s limp body, still warm with the life he’d lived so joyously. She carried the dog solemnly over to where Christine had hitched Arrow. “You’ll want to bury him, won’t you?” Stevie asked.
Christine nodded.
Together, Stevie and Christine lifted the dog’s body carefully and placed him across the horse’s back.
“One of the wranglers will have a shovel,” Stevie told Christine. “I bet Tomahawk would like to rest on the shore of that creek over there. There’s a nice green patch at the base of the hill.”
Christine was silent.
“HEY, STEVIE, ARE you all right?”
It was Carole. Stevie turned around from Christine’s horse to see her leading Stewball.
“Stewball came running around the hill like he’d gone crazy—and when we didn’t see you … Well, I’m glad to see you’re okay. Did he throw you? Did you get hurt? Shall we get the first-aid kit from Eli?”
“I’m all—”
“Oh, there you are, Stevie,” Lisa said, arriving breathlessly on Chocolate. “I’m so relieved that everything’s all right! You can’t imagine what we …” She looked at Stevie’s face and knew immediately that everything was not all right.
“What happened?” Carole asked, deeply concerned.
Just then, Kate pulled up on her horse. “Hello, Christine,” she said politely, acknowledging the girl’s presence. Then she, too, asked what had happened.
Stevie had been standing in front of Arrow. Until she stepped aside, none of the girls could see Tomahawk’s lifeless body across the horse’s back.
“Oh, no!” Carole said, looking stricken at the sight. “Is he …?”
Christine nodded. “It was a rattlesnake,” she said. Then she paused to compose herself. “She was on the ground,” she said, pointing to Stevie, “and the snake was about to strike, and …” She had trouble going on.
“What she means is that Tomahawk saved my life,” Stevie said simply. Then she described the terrible events that led to the snake’s attack on the dog.
Christine took over. “And she held my dog,” she told the girls. “She held him through his painful last minutes, and let him know he wasn’t alone.”
“It was the least I could do,” Stevie said, surprised that Christine was apparently touched by her own kindness to Tomahawk. “Now, I’d like to help you bury him. Do you girls want to help, too, or do you have to keep up with the herd?”
“The herd’ll do just fine without us for a while,” Kate assured Stevie. “In fact, I get the impression from Eli sometimes that the roundup actually goes better without the dudes along.”
Stevie smiled slightly. That was just like Eli. But she wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. “Yep, he thinks we’re just dumb dudes,” she said.
Christine looked at Stevie thoughtfully for a moment. “I think I’ve been guilty of that, too,” she said. There was an awkward silence.
“I’ll go get the shovel from Eli,” Kate offered after a moment. “I’ll tell him we’ll be with them at the lunch stop. I’ll meet you guys down by the creek.”
Kate turned Spot around to catch up with the herd. The other girls dismounted and walked their horses across the range to the creek.
As they walked, they introduced themselves to Christine, since they’d never even had a chance to tell her their names. Stevie was very aware of the sad task ahead of them, but she couldn’t help feeling that Tomahawk’s death was signaling a birth of friendship between The Saddle Club and Christine Lonetree. Certainly, the girls were coming to understand one another as they never could have done before.
“Say, where did you girls learn to ride?” Christine asked. Stevie and her friends understood that Christine was trying to keep from showing her emotions by changing the subject. They followed her lead.
Lisa explained that they were friends because they all studied riding at Pine Hollow Stables in Willow Creek, Virginia.
“English?” Christine asked.
“Of course,” Carole said. “But you know, horses are horses. And while there are differences in riding styles, there are a lot more similarities.”
“I think I’m learning that it’s the same with people,” Christine said, drawing to a stop at the bank of the creek.
“The main problem seems to be when people start thinking things about other people when they don’t have the facts,” Stevie added.
“You mean like the Western idea that ‘dumb dude’ is really one word?”
“Or the idea that a Native American girl riding in the early dawn must be on some ancient tribal mission.”
“Oh, yeah, like protecting the treasure from the marauding settlers,” Christine said, smiling at last. “To tell you the truth, I really liked that one!” She began laughing and the girls were only too pleased to laugh with her—at themselves.
Kate arrived then with the shovel. Their thoughts returned to their sad mission. They took turns digging a grave in the cool earth. It didn’t take long and as they worked, the girls found consolation in the idea that Tomahawk’s resting place was a beautiful one.
When the grave was finished, Christine and Stevie placed the dog in it. Then they looked awkwardly at each other, wondering if they should say a prayer. Stevie answered the question for them. She spoke to the dog.
“Tomahawk,” she began. “We’re going to leave you here in this beautiful place. If you can hear us, wherever you are now, you’ll know that Christine thanks you for your wonderful life, and I thank you for saving me with your death. If there’s a god of dogs, he’ll take care of you. Amen.”
The girls echoed Stevie’s “Amen,” and then quickly filled in the grave. When they were done, only a soft mound of earth marked Tomahawk’s resting place. But where he lay in death didn’t seem to matter anywhere near as much as what he had done in life.
Solemnly, the girls turned and led their horses away from Tomahawk’s grave.
“Time to catch up with the wranglers,” Kate said. “They’ll be moving along any minute now.” She turned to their new friend. “Christine,” she said, “we’ll be back at The Bar None tomorrow. Would you like to come over to visit?”
Christine smiled. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “I’ll answer your questions about my morning ride. I’ll come for you at four-thirty the next morning. Be ready to ride. Bareback.”
With that, Christine turned to Arrow and boosted herself up onto his back. Taking his reins in one hand, she turned from her new friends and the horse took off at a lope.
The Saddle Club turned to their own horses. It was time to get on with the roundup.
“Git along little dogie!” Lisa began to sing, off-key.
“I think I like the one about ‘Yippie ki yi yay’ better,” Stevie remarked as they began their return to the herd.
“I think I like it better when you can’t hear her over the moos of the cattle,” Carole said.
The girls laughed together.
THE GIRLS WERE very busy for the rest of the roundup. Before they got to the next creek crossing, they had to cover a vast open section of the range. The herd began to spread out and wander. Also, since t
here had been a number of strays remaining in this section, the herd tended to wander toward the strays, instead of the other way around.
Eli directed all the riders to surround the herd while he and Jeff rounded up strays, bringing them into the main herd. But while they were waiting, the herd seemed to sense the nearness of the creek ahead and there was no containing it. The cattle headed straight for the water and then spread out along the banks of the creek so they could all get drinks.
The girls circled back and forth along the edge of the herd just as they’d seen Eli and Jeff doing. It was very different riding from anything they’d ever done before. Not only did they have to be careful what they were doing as riders, controlling their horses, but they also had to keep eagle eyes on the herd as it meandered this way and that.
Stevie was breathing hard with fatigue and excitement as she and Stewball trotted after a cow and her calf who were wandering downstream. Stewball seemed to know what to do with very little prompting from Stevie. She let him take charge—and when the cow decided to dodge him, Stewball really took charge. He leapt to the left, blocking the cow’s escape. The cow stopped short, and gave Stewball a look. Stevie couldn’t see Stewball’s face, but from the way the cow then sheepishly returned to the herd, she figured it must have been something!
“Good boy,” she said, patting him affectionately on the neck.
Finally, the herd was assembled at the edge of the creek and they began the crossing. The girls were assigned spots in the middle of the creek and on either side of the herd, to see that none of the cattle would stray in the middle of the crossing. The horses stood contentedly in the water. The girls suspected the cool creek felt good on the animals’ hot feet.
Stevie watched while the herd sloshed across the creek. It had rained the week before so the water level was quite high and the stream was flowing rapidly. Most of the cattle didn’t even seem to notice the water at all, except to take a sip at the bank. But there was one calf who was having trouble. Its mother watched it with apparent concern.
Dude Ranch Page 6
