CHAPTER V
STRATEGY AND A SURPRISE
"Gub pi-i-i-le!" yelled the cook at the top of his voice.
The weary herders with Sims and Larkin answered the cry as one man, forthey were spent with the exertions of the night, and heavy-eyed from wantof sleep. The meal of mutton, camp-bread, beans, and Spanish onions wasdispatched with the speed that usually accompanied such ceremonies, andSims told off the herders to watch the flock while the others slept.
A general commanding soldiers would have pressed forward, thus increasingthe advantage gained in the enemy's country, but when sheep compose themarching column, human desires are the last thing consulted. After theirlong thirst and forced drive it was necessary that the animals recovertheir strength for a day amid abundant feed and water.
Immediately after breakfast Larkin called a small, close-knit herder tohim.
"Can you ride a horse?" he asked.
"_Si, senor_," replied the man, who came originally from the southernrange.
"Then saddle that piebald mare and take provisions for four days. Travelday and night until you reach the Larkin ranch in Montana, and give thisletter to the man who is in charge there."
Bud drew a penciled note from the pocket of his shirt and handed it to theother. Then he produced a rough map of the country he had drawn and addedit to the letter, explaining a number of times the distances from point topoint, and tracing the route with his pencil. At last the herderunderstood.
"Tell them to hurry," was Larkin's parting injunction, as the other turnedaway to saddle the mare.
"_Si, senor_. Hurry like blazes, eh?" said Miguel, comprehending, with aflash of white teeth.
"Exactly."
Hardly had the man galloped away north, following the bank of the riverfor the better concealment past the Bar T range, when Sims languidlyapproached.
"I reckon we're in for trouble, boss," he remarked, yawning sleepily, "an'I'm plumb dyin' for rest, but I s'pose I better look over the countryahead if we're goin' to get these muttons out o' here."
"I was just going to suggest it," said Larkin. "I am going to stay by thecamp and meet some friends of mine that I expect very shortly. Come back_pronto_, Hardy, for there's no telling what we may have to do beforenight."
Larkin's predictions of a visit were soon enough fulfilled. It was barelyten o'clock when several horsemen were seen riding toward the banks of theBig Horn. Bud mounted Pinte and advanced to meet them.
First came Beef Bissell, closely attended by Stelton, and after them, fouror five of the Bar T punchers. The actual encounter took place half a milefrom the camp. Looking back, Larkin could see his sheep feeding in plainsight amid the green of the river bottoms.
"Howdy," snapped Bissell, by way of greeting. And then, without waitingfor a reply: "What does this mean?" He indicated the placid sheep.
"My flock was dying of thirst, and I brought them up last night," saidBud. "They crossed the river early this morning."
"Why didn't you keep them on the other side? I warned you about this."
"I warned you first, Mr. Bissell. My sheep have got to goNorth and the range West of the Big Horn is the only practicable way todrive them."]
"I warned you first, Mr. Bissell. My sheep have got to go north, and therange west of the Big Horn is the only practicable way to drive them. Theywould never come through if I started them through the mountains. Youought to know that."
"Never mind what I ought to know," cried Bissell angrily, his red faceflaming with fury. "There's one thing I do know, and that is, that thoserange-killers don't go a step farther north on my side of the river."
"If you can show me clear title to ownership of this part of the range Iwill risk them in the mountains; otherwise not," replied Bud,imperturbably. "This range is free, and as much mine as yours. There's nouse going into this question again."
"That's the first true thing you've said," snarled the cowman. "Now, youlisten here. I don't go hunting trouble nowhere, but there ain't a manbetween the Rio Grande and the Columbia that can say I don't meet ithalf-way when I see it headed in my direction. Now, I've given you fairwarnin' before. I'll give it to you again, but this is the last time.Either you have them sheep t'other side of the river by this timeto-morrow, or you take the consequences."
"Is that your final word on the matter?"
"Yes. An' I've got witnesses to prove that you were given a chance toclear out."
"Then you give me only twenty-four hours?"
"Yes."
Bud's face took on a look of discouragement and failure, and he sat for atime as though seeking a loophole of escape from his ultimatum. At last helifted his head and looked at the cowman with a listless eye.
"All right," he said, hopelessly; "I'll be gone by that time."
And, without further words, he wheeled his horse slowly and rode back tothe camp. As he rode he maintained his dejected attitude, but his mind wasactively laying plans for the overthrow of Bissell. Under the mask ofseeming defeat he sought to find means for an unexpected victory.
Though his whole being rose in revolt against the arbitrary claims of thecattle king, he had become so hardened to this injustice everywhere thathe no longer wasted his time or strength in vain railings against it.Instinctively he felt that this was to be a struggle of strength againstcunning, for the very thought of physical resistance to thirty fightingcowboys by half a dozen herders was ridiculous.
Many similar skirmishes, both on his home ranch and on the trail, hadsharpened Larkin's wits for emergencies, and it was with really no spiritof humble complaisance that he faced the future. Much, however, dependedon the result of Sim's explorations.
By the time Larkin arrived at the camp the visiting cowmen haddisappeared. But this did not mean for a moment that they had all returnedto the Bar T ranch house. Merely to top the first hill would have been tosee a horse with hanging bridle, and a cow-puncher near by camped on thetrail that led to the north.
As fortune would have it, Sims slunk into camp just at the dinner hour.
"What'd they say to yuh?" he asked abruptly. "I seen the confab from overon that hogback yonder."
The herder's respect for his employer sometimes diminished to thevanishing point.
"Got to clear out in twenty-four hours or take what's comin'."
"What'd'ye tell 'em?"
"I said we would."
The lank herder started back in amazement.
"Oh, blazes!" he grieved. "That I should've ever took on with a milksopboss. I'm plumb disgraced--" His voice trailed off into silence as herecognized the twinkle in Larkin's eye. "Oh, I see what yuh mean," heapologized, with a wide grin. "We'll clear out all right. Oh, yes! Sure!"
He sat down.
"Depends on you a good deal," remarked Bud, shoving the beans toward him."What did you find this morning?"
"Found a new way north," was the muffled and laconic reply. "Yaas," hecontinued presently, after regarding his reflection in the bottom of a tincup that had been full of coffee the moment before, "an' it's over on thathogback."
A "hogback," be it understood, is a rugged rocky mound, carved by weathererosion. It is the result of the level rock strata of the plains suddenlybending upward and protruding out of the earth.
"That ridge runs north for about two mile, and at the end seems to turneast into the Big Horn foothills. So far as I can see, no man or critterhas ever been there, for there ain't any water in that crotch, and nothin'else but heat and rattlers. The point of the thing is this: Spring rainsfor a couple of million years have wore a regular watercourse down thatcrotch, and I think we can run the sheep over it, single file."
"Yes, but won't they be out on the open Bar T range when we get themover?"
"No, boss. D'ye think I'd do a thing like that? Honest, the way youmisjudge a man! Well, across that hogback, where it turns to the east,there is a string of range hills covered with good feed, and leadin'north, for twenty miles. My idea's this:
"I'll send Pedro with about a hu
ndred rams and wethers directly north fromhere, as they're expecting we will. All of them will have bells on, andPedro'll have to prod 'em some to make 'em bawl. While he is drawing allthe trouble, we'll hustle the rest of the flock along behind the hogback,over the pass, and north behind the shelter of the hills."
"Fine, Sims; just the thing!" exclaimed Larkin, taking up with the ideaenthusiastically. "It will be a thundering brute of a man who won't letthe flock north once it has gone twenty miles."
"I allow that perhaps the Bar T punchers will be watchin' that hogback,although I couldn't find tracks there, new or old. If they ever catch thesheep in that gully, you're due to wish you'd stayed East."
"Well, that's our risk, and we've got to take it. Now, I think we'd betterroll up for a few hours this afternoon, for we didn't sleep last night,and I don't believe we will to-night. Have Pedro call us at half-pastfour, and have him round up the sheep about five."
Sheep, because of some perverse twist in their natures, cannot grazestanding still. They must walk slowly forward a few steps every fewmoments. To-day, however, because of the luxuriant grass along the river,the progress of the flock had been comparatively slow. Their day's "walk"would bring them, Larkin figured, to a point less than a mile distant fromthe hogback, and an ideal spot from which to start the march.
Pedro called the two men at the appointed hour, and they reached the flockjust in time for the bedding down. Immediately all hands went through thesheep, removing bells from the animals that usually wore them, andfastening them about the necks of those delegated to act as a blind andcover the advance of the main body.
To a Bar T cow-puncher who knew anything about sheep, the evening scenewould have exhibited nothing out of the ordinary. From the reclininghundreds came the soft bleating of ewes calling their young, which is onlyheard at the daily bedding, the low-toned blethering of the others of theflock, and the tinkle of bells.
Beside the cook wagon the fire glowed in the trench, and everything seemedto be progressing normally.
Twilight came early among the trees and brush near the river, but it wasnot until absolute darkness had descended over the vast expanse of prairiethat Larkin gave the order to march. Then the main body of the herd, withSims at its head, the dogs flanking and Bud bringing up the rear onhorseback, moved silently out toward the unknown hazards of the hogbackpass.
Pedro and his hundred had been ordered to wait fifteen minutes, until thehead of the column should have almost reached the shelter of the hogback.This he did, and then headed his small flock straight up the open prairieof the range, amid a chorus of bells and loud-voiced protest. Larkin, halfa mile away, heard these sounds and smiled grimly, for the flocks beforehim made scarcely any sound at all.
In the darkness ahead he could hear the low voices of the men talking tothe dogs and encouraging the unresponsive sheep. Overhead were thebrilliant, low-swinging stars that gave just enough light to show him thetrend of the long, heaving line.
For another half-hour there was silence. The sounds of Pedro and hisflock became fainter as the two bodies diverged from each other. Now thedark wall of the hogback rose up on Larkin's left; the last of the flockwas behind shelter. The going was rough and Pinte chose each stepcarefully, but the sheep made good progress, because there was no grass totempt them.
After another long space, broken only by the clatter of hard little feeton stone, distant shots rang out, accompanied by faint yells, and Larkinknew that Pedro had met with the first of the Bar T outfit.
The sheepman was resigned to losing the hundred, just as cattlemen do nothesitate to cut out and abandon all weak animals on a long drive. It is aloss credited to the ultimate good of the business, but Bud had notconsented to this sacrifice if it meant also the sacrifice of the herder.
Pedro had, however, with many winks and glintings of teeth, made it clearthat he did not expect to depart this life yet a while, hintingmysteriously at certain charms, amulets and saints that made it a businessto keep him among the living.
Pedro, to Bud's knowledge, had been in numerous seamy affairs before, andhad always reappeared, rather the worse for wear, but perfectly sound inall respects. He did not doubt but what the Spaniard would turn up at thecook wagon for breakfast.
The sounds of distant conflict continued for perhaps five or ten minutes,at the end of which time perfect silence reigned again. Larkin wonderedhow many of the animals had been killed, or whether they had been merelyscattered--the equivalent of death, for a sheep is unable to find water,and if frightened, will back against a face of rock and starve to death.
Another half-hour passed, and now Larkin could see the dim white backs ofthe herd rising before him as they climbed the steep watercourse. Hejudged that more than half the flock must be down the precipitous otherside, and his heart beat with exultation at the success of Sim's strategy.The plan was to hide the sheep in some little green valley during the dayand march them at night until discovered or until the upper range wasreached.
Suddenly, just as the last of the flock was mounting the ascent, Larkindrew Pinte up short and listened intently. Then he quickly dismounted andplaced his ear to the ground only to leap into the saddle again, swing hishorse quickly and ride back along the trail.
He had heard the unmistakable pounding of feet, and an instant's sickeningfear flashed before him the possibility that the Bar T cowboys haddiscovered the ruse after all; either that or they had extorted the secretof it from Pedro.
Larkin loosened the pistol in his holster, one of those big, single-actionwooden-handled forty-fives that have settled so many unrecorded disputes,and prepared to cover the rear of the herd until it had safely crossed thehogback.
Pinte's ears twitched forward. The sound of galloping feet was nearer now.Larkin clapped on spurs and trotted to meet it.
Closer and closer it came, a mingled clatter of hoofs. Then suddenly thererang out the frightened bawl of a bewildered calf.
The aspects of the situation took on another hue. If these had been cattlestampeded by the shots and shouting on the plain, they would have made avastly different thundering along the earth. Cattle never ran this way bythemselves; therefore the obvious inference was that they were driven.
Again, the Bar T punchers had no call to drive cattle at night,particularly this night. Who, then, was driving them? In an instantLarkin's mind had leaped these various steps of reasoning and recalled oldBeef Bissell's vehement arraignment of rustlers in the State. The answerwas plain. The calves were being driven off the range into concealment bycattle-thieves.
Larkin knew that all the sheep had not yet passed the top of the hogback.It was absolutely necessary that their passage be unknown and unobserved.There was but one thing to do.
Spurring his horse, he charged toward the oncoming animals, whose darkforms he could now discern a hundred yards away. As he rode, he shoutedand drew his revolver, firing into their faces. When at last it seemedthat he must come into violent collision with them, they turned, snorting,to the east and made off in the direction of the river.
His purpose accomplished, Larkin wheeled Pinte sharply and dug in hisspurs, but at that instant two dark forms loomed close, one on each side,and seized the bridle.
"Hands up!" said a gruff voice. "You're covered."
The Free Range Page 5
