CHAPTER XLVI
THE END OF A CROOKED TRAIL
In the grim faces of the Utes Houck read his doom. He had not the leastdoubt of it. His trail ended here.
The terror in his heart rose less out of the fact itself than thecircumstances which surrounded it. The gray dawn, the grim,copper-colored faces, the unknown torment waiting for him, stimulated hisimagination. He could have faced his own kind, the cattlemen of the RioBlanco, without this clutching horror that gripped him. They would havedone what they thought necessary, but without any unnecessary cruelty.What the Utes would do he did not know. They would make sure of theirvengeance, but they would not be merciful about it.
He repressed a shudder and showed his yellow teeth in a grin of defiance."I reckon you're right glad to see me," he jeered.
Still they said nothing, only looked at their captive with an aspect thatdaunted him.
"Not dumb, are you? Speak up, some of you," Houck snarled, fighting downthe panic within him.
A wrinkled old Ute spoke quietly. "Man-with-loud-tongue die. He killIndian--give him no chance. Indians kill him now."
Houck nodded his head. "Sure I killed him. He'd stolen my horse, hadn'the?"
The old fellow touched his chest. "Black Arrow my son. You kill him. Hetake your horse mebbe. You take Ute horse." He pointed to the pinto. "Utekill Man-with-loud-tongue."
"Black Arrow reached for his gun. I had to shoot. It was an even break."Houck's voice pleaded in spite of his resolution not to weaken.
The spokesman for the Indians still showed an impassive face, but hisvoice was scornful. "Is Man-with-loud-tongue a yellow coyote? Does hecarry the heart of a squaw? Will he cry like a pappoose?"
Houck's salient jaw jutted out. The man was a mass of vanity. Moreover,he was game. "Who told you I was yellow? Where did you get that? I ain'tscared of all the damned Utes that ever came outa hell."
And to prove it--perhaps, too, by way of bolstering up his courage--hecursed the redskins with a string of blistering oaths till he was out ofbreath.
The captive needed no explanation of the situation. He knew that thesoldiers had failed to round up and drive back to the reservation a bandof the Utes that had split from the main body and taken to the hills. Bysome unlucky chance or evil fate he had come straight from Bear Cat totheir night camp.
The Utes left Houck pegged out to the ground while they sat at a littledistance and held a pow-wow. The outlaw knew they were deciding his fate.He knew them better than to expect anything less than death. What shookhis nerve was the uncertainty as to the form it would take. Like allfrontiersmen, he had heard horrible stories of Apache torture. In generalthe Utes did not do much of that sort of thing. But they had a specialgrudge against him. What he had done to one of them had been at least acontributory cause of the outbreak that had resulted so disastrously forthem. He would have to pay the debt he owed. But how? He sweated bloodwhile the Indians squatted before the fire and came to a decision.
The council did not last long. When it broke up Houck braced his will toface what he must. It would not be long now. Soon he would know theworst.
Two of the braves went up the hill toward the cavvy. The rest came backto their captive.
They stood beside him in silence. Houck scowled up at them, stilldefiant.
"Well?" he demanded.
The Utes said nothing. They stood there stolid. Their victim read in thatvoiceless condemnation an awful menace.
"Onload it," he jeered. "I'm no squaw. Shoot it at me. Jake Houck ain'tscared."
Still they waited, the father of Black Arrow with folded arms, a sultryfire burning in his dark eyes.
The two men who had gone to the cavvy returned. They were leading a horsewith a rope around its neck. Houck recognized the animal with a thrill ofsuperstitious terror. It was the one about the possession of which he hadshot Black Arrow.
The old chief spoke again. "Man-with-loud-tongue claim this horse. Utesgive it him. Horse his. Man-with-loud-tongue satisfied then maybe."
"What are you aimin' to do, you red devils?" Houck shouted.
Already he guessed vaguely at the truth. Men were arranging a kind ofharness of rope and rawhide on the animal.
Others stooped to drag the captive forward. He set his teeth to keep backthe shriek of terror that rose to his throat.
He knew now what form the vengeance of the savages was to take.
The Fighting Edge Page 46
