by H. V. Elkin
Still laughing, so hard that he choked a couple of times, Chase got to his feet. Then he stood, feet wide apart and steady, some soberness having been knocked back into him. He looked at Ellen and smiled in that insinuating way of his.
Her response to this was to take off her shoes and hold one of them ready like a tomahawk, or that hatchet she wanted to bury in Chase’s head.
“Go get him, Ellen!” called a cowboy who worked on a neighboring ranch, the very thing that the ones who worked for Harmon would have liked to say themselves.
Another cowboy who did not know Chase very well yelled, “Give her a kiss, why don’t you?”
To Chase it sounded like a dare and, since he did not know what else he was going to do but knew he had to do something if he was ever going to hold his head up in these parts again, he figured a kiss was what it had to be. She could hit and scratch at him all she liked, but as long as he got that kiss, he could walk away, laughing, sharing the joke with everyone else. He threw a quick look at Harmon and saw the boss grinning. So there was nothing to stop him, except Ellen herself.
There was a knocking at the door but no one heard it.
Keeping Ellen’s shoe in sight, Chase circled around her toward her left, like a hawk who circled the prey and came in closer each time. Ellen just turned so she was always facing him. When he got close enough to reach her, he feinted to her left making himself a target for the shoe heel. As she whipped it down toward his head, he dodged to her right, reached around her side and grabbed her right wrist. But she held onto the shoe. Now he stood behind her, holding her right hand at her left side with his left hand, and with his right he reached up and grabbed her chin and tried to turn her head back toward him. She resisted with strong neck muscles and tried to wrench away.
The knocking came again.
“Come on, Ellen,” Chase encouraged her. “You got to get kissed by a man someday and it might as well be now. Come on, get it over with, and then I’ll turn you loose.”
“Like hell, you sonofabitch!” she hissed.
The ladies were beside themselves, and some of them retreated to another room to preserve their delicate states of mind. The ones who did not want to miss anything pretended to be too shocked to move. When the view of one of them was obscured by a man, she pushed him aside and explained, “I just can’t believe what I’m seeing,” then looked at more of it to confirm it was really happening.
The man who had been pushed aside looked over at Harmon. Well, if the old man was going to let this go on, it wasn’t any of the man’s business to interfere. He wasn’t enjoying it and thought this was no way to treat a woman of any kind, no matter how ornery she might be or how much some folks might figure she was getting what she deserved.
It was still a standoff. Ellen still managed to resist her head being turned to the point of contact.
“Back off, Chase!” The command cut through the hubbub with sharp authority. A deep, rich strong voice. The kind of voice that sounded like it belonged to a man who was holding a gun.
Chase stiffened and looked over his shoulder toward the voice. “Mind your own damned business!”
“I said back off! And I meant it.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Harmon said. ‘They’re just havin’ a little fun.”
“Maybe one of ’em is. The other one ain’t. Back off, Chase, and I’m not gonna say it again.” There would be no more words. The next sound, if there had to be one, was going to be a gunshot.
Chase hesitated only a moment, then released Ellen and jumped back to avoid the shoe heel which missed his head and grazed his shoulder. Chase found himself in the middle between the lady who had become a tiger and the man who had spoken.
Now Harmon stepped between Chase and Ellen and held her off. “Ease up, Ellen! It’s all over now.”
“You call yourself my father, and you stand by and watch this!”
“Now, Ellen, I figure you can take care of yourself the way you always did.”
“Damned right I can if you just let me at him!”
“Now, now. Cool down, will you? We got ourselves another problem right now.”
Ellen let out an exasperated snort, then looked at the man whose voice had stopped the tussle with Chase. Chase was looking at the man, too. Everyone in the room was looking at the man, and the room had gone silent.
The man was black, almost as tall as Chase and equally well built. He wore a six-gun on his right hip and had not drawn it. He stood there confident in his Stetson, denim jacket and pants. He had this thumbs hooked into his belt and stared with big challenging eyes at Chase.
“Who is he?” a lady asked. “What’s he doing here?”
“His name’s Dave Baker,” she was told. “Guess he’s here for the party just like the rest of us.”
“He’s not dressed for it.”
Ellen was still angry but no longer swinging with the shoe. She padded up to Baker in her bare feet, taking long angry strides. “I don’t need you to look out for me, or anyone else.”
Dave smiled a broad smile but kept his eyes on Chase. “Expect that’s true, Miss Harmon. I apologize for not lettin’ you handle things your way. You got to forgive me, but a man’s just got to do some things, and I couldn’t stand by and watch without doin’ something.”
“What are you doin’ here?” Chase asked.
“Well now, Tom, I see you got a party goin’. Figured it was just an oversight I wasn’t invited.”
“You know damned well it wasn’t an oversight.”
“Now, Dave,” Harmon said. “I know how busy you always are on that spread of yours ...”
“Sorry to barge in, Ben. I knocked, but I guess you were all too busy here to hear me, ain’t that right?”
“You figurin’ to take me on now, are you, Dave?” Chase asked. For him, nothing was worse than an unfinished fight, and if he was not going to finish it with Ellen, Baker would do fine as a substitute.
“I wasn’t exactly figurin’ on it,” Baker said. “But I’ll oblige you if you want. Then again, maybe you’d all like to go after your horses. Either way’s okay with me.”
Ellen lost her anger suddenly. “What horses?”
“Ones you had out in the corral, Miss Harmon. Most of ’em ain’t there no more.”
Harmon came over to Baker and stood beside his daughter. “What happened, Dave?”
“Can’t tell you about the beginnin’ of it ‘cause I didn’t see it. But I was ridin’ by for the end of it. And I saw maybe six of them runnin’ off toward the hill out there. Some of the fence rails got knocked down. One of ’em’s broke in half.”
Harmon looked at Chase, and they both knew what had probably happened.
“Toward the hill, you say?” Harmon asked.
“Yep. Toward the hill.”
“Did you notice a special one leadin’?”
“Not leadin’, no. But followin’. More like herdin’, I’d say. Runnin’ behind and waggin’ his head, makin’ those horses go faster than they probably ever went before, I guess. My guess is the ones he’s herdin’ away are all the mares that was in the corral. Wouldn’t that be your guess, Ben?”
Harmon turned to the others. “Listen, men! It’s got to be Mesteño again. There ain’t a man here who hasn’t lost a mare to that mustang stallion, and this might be our chance to put an end to it, get back the horses we lost and a few others to boot.”
“Never mind that,” Chase said. “Never mind a few mares. I say we go after them shootin’, gun down every one of them. They’re all wild now and more trouble than they’re worth.”
“The ones he just got ain’t wild yet,” Harmon said.
“You’re the boss, Ben, and what you say goes. But I’m tellin’ you, we oughtn’t go off with a mind to catch horses, even the ones that got away tonight. We got to go huntin’ to kill everything out there on four feet. We got to gun ’em down, all of ’em, because if we don’t we won’t get Mesteño, and we’re gonna just keep on losin’ mounts to him
. We either lose a few horses tonight, or we’re gonna lose a lot more in the future. That stallion’s got them, they’re as good as dead to us anyway.”
Harmon turned to Baker. “What do you say, Dave?”
“I say make any decision fast. Or we won’t have any decision to make.”
“Pa,” Ellen said, “we’re not going to kill Mesteño!” And with that she ran upstairs.
“That’s it!” Harmon said. “Tom, we got to try once more gettin’ them alive.”
Chase shook his head and shrugged.
“Okay!” Harmon shouted to the others. “Those that can still find a horse, mount up, and let’s go. Every minute puts too much distance between us and a lot of valuable horseflesh. There’s a little snow on the ground, so they won’t be hard to follow.”
There was scurrying to find guns among the articles left in a room off the large parlor, the things that no one thought he’d be needing at a party to celebrate Statehood. After some confusion, the men were outside, improbably dressed for a hunt in their suits and with their guns strapped around their jackets. Some could not find horses to saddle. By the time the party was ready to take off, Ellen, dressed in pants and shirt and mackinaw, came riding out of the barn on her horse.
“Let’s go,” she said.
And they took off on the snowy trail of the horses, racing in the moonlight toward the hill.
Ellen raced beside her father. “Let’s try a surround. It used to work for the Indians. Maybe it’ll work for us.”
“You’re never gonna get them into the canyon. They’ll head for high country.”
“I know that, Pa. But maybe we can chase ’em down.”
For three miles, all they saw was trail. Then Harmon pulled up. “Hold it!” The rest reined up their own horses. Harmon pointed toward a cliff just ahead. At the top of it, silhouetted in the moonlight, was Mesteño. The stallion had its neck arched and was looking at them, and Chase felt like the stallion was challenging, even daring the riders to catch him. “That sonofabitch!” Chase whispered. “Look at him up there!”
“The rest’ll be close by,” Harmon said. “Might still be runnin’.”
“He’s beautiful!” Ellen said.
Harmon turned around in his saddle. “If we can drive ’em into the canyon, we’ll try a surround. Everybody know what that is?”
They all did.
“Okay, six of you go around the other side and try to force ’em down. The rest of us’ll come from the south to meet you. Don’t none of you gallop. A fast walk like you’d given up the hunt. Don’t race your mounts as long as Mesteño can see you. And remember, he can see you a hell of a lot easier than you can see him once you get on the other side.”
As six of the cowboys moved off to the north, the others sat and waited. There was nothing else to do at the moment. A direct assault would have been fruitless, as had been proven many times before with Mesteño.
“He’s just beautiful!” Ellen repeated.
“That he is,” Baker said. “It’s almost a shame we can’t just leave him be, ain’t it?”
“You’re as crazy as he is,” Chase snarled.
“No,” Baker said. “I’m just as different as he is, that’s all. Think I know how he feels.”
“Horses don’t feel!”
“That a fact, Tom? I didn’t know that. Well, I guess you learn something new every day. Now, who’d’ve thought today’s lesson was gonna come from you.”
“Baker!” Chase sounded like he was offering a challenge of his own. “I think you and me’s got us some unfinished business.”
“Put a damper on it,” Harmon said. “It won’t take much to spook those horses now, and all we need is an argument amongst us to do the job up real neat. Now no more talkin’ of any kind from anybody.”
So they sat on their horses in silence for half an hour, looking up at the stallion that never moved and looked back at them. Then the stallion turned his head toward the north. If he saw anything there was no indication of it. He looked down at the riders once more, then turned and disappeared from view.
“He’s given up on us,” Ellen whispered.
Then they knew that was not it at all. There were gunshots from beyond the crest, and they knew the stallion had seen the other six men riding toward him. By now there would be a chase, and they heard the thunder of hoofs moving down toward the canyon.
“That’s it!” Harmon said. “Let’s finish the job.”
They raced off toward the canyon. As they approached it, they saw a mass of animals, impossible to tell how many, running down toward the trap, with the sounds of guns fired in the air behind them. The stallion could be seen in the rear, wagging its head in the herding motion, nipping an occasional mare in the flank to make her go faster. The lead mare could be seen four lengths ahead of the others that were running in a single file.
And Harmon’s group was racing toward the lead mare. As they neared the entrance of the canyon, they fanned out, forming a line, a kind of wall of people and horses. They fired their guns into the air.
The horses veered away from the line of riders and toward the canyon wall, from which they veered again only to come up against the riders who had chased them from the hill in the first place. These riders fired into the air.
The lead mare arched her neck away and led the herd away from the second set of riders. As she arched her neck in that particular way, a new regret stirred in Dave Baker. It was such a beautiful movement, one that would surely be tamed away if the mare was captured. And there was something else about it. Something very familiar. He remembered then it was like Ellen at the party, the way her neck arched as she resisted Chase’s bullying efforts to get a kiss. Baker was not sure if the resemblance of Ellen to the lead mare went any further than the arch of the neck in battle. For one thing, Baker could not picture Ellen under the domination of a man, as the lead mare was dominated by Mesteño. He could picture her leading a group of women, like the mare, but not being one of the herd to a single man. That might be acceptable for a Mormon woman; those people had their ways that Baker could not understand. But Ellen was no Mormon. And Baker thought he could understand Ellen.
Now the herd was headed back toward Baker and the others. They fired into the air, and the herd once more veered back toward the canyon wall, once more back toward the other riders, and again back to Baker and his group. It went on in that way for twenty minutes.
This was a “surround.” The herd was trapped with a canyon wall on one side, and men on horses were on the open sides. The riders would not move in toward the horses, for that would make a break in their line and give the herd an opening for escape. Instead, the strategy was to keep the wild herd moving at its breakneck pace, around and around in a circle, until the horses had become exhausted and could be captured.
If it had not been dark, each rider could have seen something revealing in the faces of the other riders. But, if it had not been dark, the riders would have been more careful about hiding their emotions, as the horses circled endlessly.
Hope. A mare that had been lost and depleted the ranch remuda might now be returned, and that was like lost money being found. Losing a good horse was worse than losing money. A horse could get you out of tight situations where money was meaningless. A horse could save your life. That was why a man who swung a wide loop in the old days was likely to wind up swinging at the end of one, the whole judicial process having been carried out without much ceremony beneath a good hanging tree. Maybe rustlers were not hanged so much anymore, but the value of the horse was the same and the need of a man to keep his herd together was the same. Getting a horse back that had been lost was more cause for celebration than Statehood. Nobody ever had a party about it, but that was the way they felt about it.
Hate. Tom Chase wanted to shoot them all. He felt a personal need for revenge against Mesteño because this was an animal that had got the better of the man. Tom Chase ran Harmon’s ranch with an iron hand, and when something did not go his
way he could get violent to bring the situation around in his favor again. As far as he was concerned, as long as Mesteño was alive, the mustang would remain a threat to Chase’s control of everything around him. He was not about to kill any horses with the boss around, but he would not be happy until someday when Mesteño was dead. His hatred even extended to the mares in the herd. They had proved themselves unworthy of the care they had gotten from man and run off with the stallion as though they had never belonged to men.
Greed. Ben Harmon did not think of himself as a greedy man, but the value of horses to him was measured in dollars. He wanted his own returned because they were a part of his estate and represented the value of that estate. He wanted to capture one or two extra for the same reason. He wanted Ellen to marry Tom because that way they’d both stay on the ranch, and he would not lose either of them. He would be keeping a foreman without losing a daughter.
Respect. Ellen could not help admiring the independence of the wild mustangs. She especially thought well of those who had run away from their domestic lives on the local ranches, even though it took the persuasion of a stallion to make them do so. She thought she might be able to live a life with a man if she could do so in the same kind of freedom, but without being part of a harem. If the horses were to be captured, Ellen had to be a part of that because right now the most important thing was to maintain her equal status with the men, but she had mixed feelings about ending the freedom of the wild horses just the same.
