The Light of the Western Stars by Zane Grey
XIX. Don Carlos
Stewart took Nels, Monty, and Nick Steele aside out of earshot, and theyevidently entered upon an earnest colloquy. Presently the other cowboyswere called. They all talked more or less, but the deep voice of Stewartpredominated over the others. Then the consultation broke up, and thecowboys scattered.
"Rustle, you Indians!" ordered Stewart.
The ensuing scene of action was not reassuring to Madeline and herfriends. They were quiet, awaiting some one to tell them what to do. Atthe offset the cowboys appeared to have forgotten Madeline. Some of themran off into the woods, others into the open, grassy places, where theyrounded up the horses and burros. Several cowboys spread tarpaulinsupon the ground and began to select and roll small packs, evidently forhurried travel. Nels mounted his horse to ride down the trail. Montyand Nick Steele went off into the grove, leading their horses. Stewartclimbed up a steep jumble of stone between two sections of low, crackedcliff back of the camp.
Castleton offered to help the packers, and was curtly told he wouldbe in the way. Madeline's friends all importuned her: Was there realdanger? Were the guerrillas coming? Would a start be made at once forthe ranch? Why had the cowboys suddenly become so different? Madelineanswered as best she could; but her replies were only conjecture, andmodified to allay the fears of her guests. Helen was in a white glow ofexcitement.
Soon cowboys appeared riding barebacked horses, driving in others andthe burros. Some of these horses were taken away and evidently hiddenin deep recesses between the crags. The string of burros were packedand sent off down the trail in charge of a cowboy. Nick Steele and Montyreturned. Then Stewart appeared, clambering down the break between thecliffs.
His next move was to order all the baggage belonging to Madeline and herguests taken up the cliff. This was strenuous toil, requiring the needof lassoes to haul up the effects.
"Get ready to climb," said Stewart, turning to Madelines party.
"Where?" asked Helen.
He waved his hand at the ascent to be made. Exclamations of dismayfollowed his gesture.
"Mr. Stewart, is there danger?" asked Dorothy; and her voice trembled.
This was the question Madeline had upon her lips to ask Stewart, but shecould not speak it.
"No, there's no danger," replied Stewart, "but we're taking precautionswe all agreed on as best."
Dorothy whispered that she believed Stewart lied. Castleton askedanother question, and then Harvey followed suit. Mrs. Beck made a timidquery.
"Please keep quiet and do as you're told," said Stewart, bluntly.
At this juncture, when the last of the baggage was being hauled up thecliff, Monty approached Madeline and removed his sombrero. His blackface seemed the same, yet this was a vastly changed Monty.
"Miss Hammond, I'm givin' notice I resign my job," he said.
"Monty! What do you mean? What does Nels mean now, when dangerthreatens?"
"We jest quit. Thet's all," replied Monty, tersely. He was stern andsomber; he could not stand still; his eyes roved everywhere.
Castleton jumped up from the log where he had been sitting, and his facewas very red.
"Mr. Price, does all this blooming fuss mean we are to be robbed orattacked or abducted by a lot of ragamuffin guerrillas?"
"You've called the bet."
Dorothy turned a very pale face toward Monty.
"Mr. Price, you wouldn't--you couldn't desert us now? You and Mr.Nels--"
"Desert you?" asked Monty, blankly.
"Yes, desert us. Leave us when we may need you so much, with somethingdreadful coming."
Monty uttered a short, hard laugh as he bent a strange look upon thegirl.
"Me an' Nels is purty much scared, an' we're goin' to slope. MissDorothy, bein' as we've rustled round so much; it sorta hurts us to seenice young girls dragged off by the hair."
Dorothy uttered a little cry and then became hysterical. Castleton foronce was fully aroused.
"By Gad! You and your partner are a couple of blooming cowards. Wherenow is that courage you boasted of?"
Monty's dark face expressed extreme sarcasm.
"Dook, in my time I've seen some bright fellers, but you take thecake. It's most marvelous how bright you are. Figger'n' me an' Nels socorrect. Say, Dook, if you don't git rustled off to Mexico an' roped toa cactus-bush you'll hev a swell story fer your English chums. BahJove! You'll tell 'em how you seen two old-time gun-men run like scaredjack-rabbits from a lot of Greasers. Like hell you will! Unless youlie like the time you told about proddin' the lion. That there storyallus--"
"Monty, shut up!" yelled Stewart, as he came hurriedly up. Then Montyslouched away, cursing to himself.
Madeline and Helen, assisted by Castleton, worked over Dorothy, andwith some difficulty quieted her. Stewart passed several times withoutnoticing them, and Monty, who had been so ridiculously eager to payevery little attention to Dorothy, did not see her at all. Rude itseemed; in Monty's ease more than that. Madeline hardly knew what tomake of it.
Stewart directed cowboys to go to the head of the open place in thecliff and let down lassoes. Then, with little waste of words, he urgedthe women toward this rough ladder of stones.
"We want to hide you," he said, when they demurred. "If the guerrillascome we'll tell them you've all gone down to the ranch. If we have tofight you'll be safe up there."
Helen stepped boldly forward and let Stewart put the loop of a lassoround her and tighten it. He waved his hand to the cowboys above.
"Just walk up, now," he directed Helen.
It proved to the watchers to be an easy, safe, and rapid means ofscaling the steep passage. The men climbed up without assistance. Mrs.Beck, as usual, had hysteria; she half walked and was half dragged up.Stewart supported Dorothy with one arm, while with the other he held tothe lasso. Ambrose had to carry Christine. The Mexican women requiredno assistance. Edith Wayne and Madeline climbed last; and, once up,Madeline saw a narrow bench, thick with shrubs, and overshadowed byhuge, leaning crags. There were holes in the rock, and dark fissuresleading back. It was a rough, wild place. Tarpaulins and bedding werethen hauled up, and food and water. The cowboys spread comfortable bedsin several of the caves, and told Madeline and her friends to be asquiet as possible, not to make a light, and to sleep dressed, ready fortravel at a moment's notice.
After the cowboys had gone down it was not a cheerful group left therein the darkening twilight. Castleton prevailed upon them to eat.
"This is simply great," whispered Helen.
"Oh, it's awful!" moaned Dorothy. "It's your fault, Helen. You prayedfor something to happen."
"I believe it's a horrid trick those cowboys are playing," said Mrs.Beck.
Madeline assured her friends that no trick was being played upon them,and that she deplored the discomfort and distress, but felt no realalarm. She was more inclined to evasive kindness here than to sincerity,for she had a decided uneasiness. The swift change in the manner andlooks of her cowboys had been a shock to her. The last glance she had ofStewart's face, then stern, almost sad, and haggard with worry, remainedto augment her foreboding.
Darkness appeared to drop swiftly down; the coyotes began theirhaunting, mournful howls; the stars showed and grew brighter; the windmoaned through the tips of the pines. Castleton was restless. He walkedto and fro before the overhanging shelf of rock, where his companionssat lamenting, and presently he went out to the ledge of the bench. Thecowboys below had built a fire, and the light from it rose in a huge,fan-shaped glow. Castleton's little figure stood out black against thislight. Curious and anxious also, Madeline joined him and peered downfrom the cliff. The distance was short, and occasionally she coulddistinguish a word spoken by the cowboys. They were unconcernedlycooking and eating. She marked the absence of Stewart, and mentioned itto Castleton. Silently Castleton pointed almost straight down, and therein the gloom stood Stewart, with the two stag-hounds at his feet.
Presently Nick Steele silenced the camp-fire circle by raising a warn
"Gene, it's Nels. Somethin' doin'," Madeline heard one of the cowboyscall, softly.
"Send him over," replied Stewart.
Nels stalked away from the fire.
"See here, Nels, the boys are all right, but I don't want them to knoweverything about this mix-up," said Stewart, as Nels came up. "Did youfind the girl?"
Madeline guessed that Stewart referred to the Mexican girl Bonita.
"No. But I met"--Madeline did not catch the name--"an' he was wild. Hewas with a forest-ranger. An' they said Pat Hawe had trailed her an' wastakin' her down under arrest."
Stewart muttered deep under his breath, evidently cursing.
"Wonder why he didn't come on up here?" he queried, presently. "He cansee a trail."
"Wal, Gene, Pat knowed you was here all right, fer thet ranger saidPat hed wind of the guerrillas, an' Pat said if Don Carlos didn't killyou--which he hoped he'd do--then it 'd be time enough to put you injail when you come down."
"He's dead set to arrest me, Nels."
"An' he'll do it, like the old lady who kept tavern out West. Gene, thereason thet red-faced coyote didn't trail you up here is because he'sscared. He allus was scared of you. But I reckon he's shore scared todeath of me an' Monty."
"Well, we'll take Pat in his turn. The thing now is, when will thatGreaser stalk us, and what'll we do when he comes?"
"My boy, there's only one way to handle a Greaser. I shore told youthet. He means rough toward us. He'll come smilin' up, all soci'blelike, insinuatin' an' sweeter 'n a woman. But he's treacherous; he'swuss than an Indian. An', Gene, we know for a positive fact how his ganghev been operatin' between these hills an' Agua Prieta. They're no nervygang of outlaws like we used to hev. But they're plumb bad. They'veraided and murdered through the San Luis Pass an' Guadalupe Canyon.They've murdered women, an' wuss than thet, both north an' south of AguaPrieta. Mebbe the U. S. cavalry don't know it, an' the good old States;but we, you an' me an' Monty an' Nick, we know it. We know jest aboutwhat thet rebel war down there amounts to. It's guerrilla war, an' shoresome harvest-time fer a lot of cheap thieves an' outcasts."
"Oh, you're right, Nels. I'm not disputing that," replied Stewart. "Ifit wasn't for Miss Hammond and the other women, I'd rather enjoy seeingyou and Monty open up on that bunch. I'm thinking I'd be glad to meetDon Carlos. But Miss Hammond! Why, Nels, such a woman as she is wouldnever recover from the sight of real gun-play, let alone any stuntswith a rope. These Eastern women are different. I'm not belittling ourWestern women. It's in the blood. Miss Hammond is--is--"
"Shore she is," interrupted Nels; "but she's got a damn sight more spunkthan you think she has, Gene Stewart. I'm no thick-skulled cow. I'd hatesomethin' powerful to hev Miss Hammond see any rough work, let alone mean' Monty startin' somethin'. An' me an' Monty'll stick to you, Gene, aslong as seems reasonable. Mind, ole feller, beggin' your pardon, you'reshore stuck on Miss Hammond, an' over-tender not to hurt her feelin's ormake her sick by lettin' some blood. We're in bad here, an' mebbe we'llhev to fight. Sabe, senor? Wal, we do you can jest gamble thet MissHammond'll be game. An' I'll bet you a million pesos thet if you gotgoin' onct, an' she seen you as I've seen you--wal, I know what she'dthink of you. This old world ain't changed much. Some women may bewhite-skinned an' soft-eyed an' sweet-voiced an' high-souled, but theyall like to see a man! Gene, here's your game. Let Don Carlos comealong. Be civil. If he an' his gang are hungry, feed 'em. Take even alittle overbearin' Greaser talk. Be blind if he wants his gang to stealsomethin'. Let him think the women hev mosied down to the ranch. Butif he says you're lyin'--if he as much as looks round to see thewomen--jest jump him same as you jumped Pat Hawe. Me an' Monty'll hangback fer thet, an' if your strong bluff don't go through, if the Don'sgang even thinks of flashin' guns, then we'll open up. An' all I got tosay is if them Greasers stand fer real gun-play they'll be the fust Iever seen."
"Nels, there are white men in that gang," said Stewart.
"Shore. But me an' Monty'll be thinkin' of thet. If they start anythin'it'll hev to be shore quick."
"All right, Nels, old friend, and thanks," replied Stewart. Nelsreturned to the camp-fire, and Stewart resumed his silent guard.
Madeline led Castleton away from the brink of the wall.
"By Jove! Cowboys are blooming strange folk!" he exclaimed. "They arenot what they pretend to be."
"Indeed, you are right," replied Madeline. "I cannot understand them.Come, let us tell the others that Nels and Monty were only talking anddo not intend to leave us. Dorothy, at least, will be less frightened ifshe knows."
Dorothy was somewhat comforted. The others, however, complained of thecowboys' singular behavior. More than once the idea was advanced thatan elaborate trick had been concocted. Upon general discussion this ideagained ground. Madeline did not combat it, because she saw it tended toa less perturbed condition of mind among her guests. Castleton for onceproved that he was not absolutely obtuse, and helped along the idea.
They sat talking in low voices until a late hour. The incident now beganto take on the nature of Helen's long-yearned-for adventure. Some of theparty even grew merry in a subdued way. Then, gradually, one by one theytired and went to bed. Helen vowed she could not sleep in a place wherethere were bats and crawling things. Madeline fancied, however, thatthey all went to sleep while she lay wide-eyed, staring up at the blackbulge of overhanging rock and beyond the starry sky.
To keep from thinking of Stewart and the burning anger he had caused herto feel for herself, Madeline tried to keep her mind on other things.But thought of him recurred, and each time there was a hot commotionin her breast hard to stifle. Intelligent reasoning seemed out of herpower. In the daylight it had been possible for her to be oblivious toStewart's deceit after the moment of its realization. At night, however,in the strange silence and hovering shadows of gloom, with the speakingstars seeming to call to her, with the moan of the wind in the pines,and the melancholy mourn of coyotes in the distance, she was not able togovern her thought and emotion. The day was practical, cold; the nightwas strange and tense. In the darkness she had fancies wholly unknown toher in the bright light of the sun. She battled with a haunting thought.She had inadvertently heard Nels's conversation with Stewart; she hadlistened, hoping to hear some good news or to hear the worst; she hadlearned both, and, moreover, enlightenment on one point of Stewart'scomplex motives. He wished to spare her any sight that might offend,frighten, or disgust her. Yet this Stewart, who showed a fineness offeeling that might have been wanting even in Boyd Harvey, maintained asecret rendezvous with that pretty, abandoned Bonita. Here alwaysthe hot shame, like a live, stinging, internal fire, abruptly endedMadeline's thought. It was intolerable, and it was the more so becauseshe could neither control nor understand it. The hours wore on, and atlength, as the stars began to pale and there was no sound whatever, shefell asleep.
She was called out of her slumber. Day had broken bright and cool.The sun was still below the eastern crags. Ambrose, with several othercowboys, had brought up buckets of spring-water, and hot coffee andcakes. Madeline's party appeared to be none the worse for the night'sexperience. Indeed, the meager breakfast might have been as merrilypartaken of as it was hungrily had not Ambrose enjoined silence.
"They're expectin' company down below," he said.
This information and the summary manner in which the cowboys soon ledthe party higher up among the ruined shelves of rock caused a recurrenceof anxiety. Madeline insisted on not going beyond a projection ofcliff from which she could see directly down into the camp. As thevantage-point was one affording concealment, Ambrose consented, buthe placed the frightened C
"Ambrose, do you really think the guerrillas will come?" asked Madeline.
"Sure. We know. Nels just rode in and said they were on their way up.Miss Hammond, can I trust you? You won't let out a squeal if there's afight down there? Stewart told me to hide you out of sight or keep youfrom lookin'."
"I promise not to make any noise," replied Madeline. Madeline arrangedher coat so that she could lie upon it, and settled down to waitdevelopments. There came a slight rattling of stones in the rear. Sheturned to see Helen sliding down a bank with a perplexed and troubledcowboy. Helen came stooping low to where Madeline lay and said: "I amgoing to see what happens, if I die in the attempt! I can stand itif you can." She was pale and big-eyed. Ambrose promptly swore at thecowboy who had let her get away from him. "Take a half-hitch on heryourself an' see where you end up," replied the fellow, and disappearedin the jumble of rocks. Ambrose, finding words useless, sternly andheroically prepared to carry Helen back to the others. He laid hold ofher. In a fury, with eyes blazing, Helen whispered:
"Let go of me! Majesty, what does this fool mean?"
Madeline laughed. She knew Helen, and had marked the whisper, whenordinarily Helen would have spoken imperiously, and not low. Madelineexplained to her the exigency of the situation. "I might run, but I'llnever scream," said Helen. With that Ambrose had to be content to lether stay. However, he found her a place somewhat farther back fromMadeline's position, where he said there was less danger of her beingseen. Then he sternly bound her to silence, tarried a moment to comfortChristine, and returned to where Madeline lay concealed. He had beenthere scarcely a moment when he whispered:
"I hear hosses. The guerrillas are comin'."
Madeline's hiding-place was well protected from possible discovery frombelow. She could peep over a kind of parapet, through an opening in thetips of the pines that reached up to the cliff, and obtain a commandingview of the camp circle and its immediate surroundings. She could not,however, see far either to right or left of the camp, owing to theobstructing foliage. Presently the sound of horses' hoofs quickened thebeat of her pulse and caused her to turn keener gaze upon the cowboysbelow.
Although she had some inkling of the course Stewart and his men were topursue, she was not by any means prepared for the indifference she saw.Frank was asleep, or pretended to be. Three cowboys were lazily andunconcernedly attending to camp-fire duties, such as baking biscuits,watching the ovens, and washing tins and pots. The elaborate set ofaluminum plates, cups, etc., together with the other camp fixtures thathad done service for Madeline's party, had disappeared. Nick Steelesat with his back to a log, smoking his pipe. Another cowboy had justbrought the horses closer into camp, where they stood waiting to besaddled. Nels appeared to be fussing over a pack. Stewart was rollinga cigarette. Monty had apparently nothing to do for the present exceptwhistle, which he was doing much more loudly than melodiously. The wholeensemble gave an impression of careless indifference.
The sound of horses' hoofs grew louder and slowed its beat. One of thecowboys pointed down the trail, toward which several of his comradesturned their heads for a moment, then went on with their occupations.
Presently a shaggy, dusty horse bearing a lean, ragged, dark rider rodeinto camp and halted. Another followed, and another. Horses with Mexicanriders came in single file and stopped behind the leader.
The cowboys looked up, and the guerrillas looked down. "Buenos dias,senor," ceremoniously said the foremost guerrilla.
By straining her ears Madeline heard that voice, and she recognizedit as belonging to Don Carlos. His graceful bow to Stewart was alsofamiliar. Otherwise she would never have recognized the former elegantvaquero in this uncouth, roughly dressed Mexican.
Stewart answered the greeting in Spanish, and, waving his hand towardthe camp-fire, added in English, "Get down and eat."
The guerrillas were anything but slow in complying. They crowded tothe fire, then spread in a little circle and squatted upon the ground,laying their weapons beside them. In appearance they tallied with theband of guerrillas that had carried Madeline up into the foothills, onlythis band was larger and better armed. The men, moreover, were just ashungry and as wild and beggarly. The cowboys were not cordial in theirreception of this visit, but they were hospitable. The law of the deserthad always been to give food and drink to wayfaring men, whether lost orhunted or hunting.
"There's twenty-three in that outfit," whispered Ambrose, "includin'four white men. Pretty rummy outfit."
"They appear to be friendly enough," whispered Madeline.
"Things down there ain't what they seem," replied Ambrose.
"Ambrose, tell me--explain to me. This is my opportunity. As long as youwill let me watch them, please let me know the--the real thing."
"Sure. But recollect, Miss Hammond, that Gene'll give it to me good ifhe ever knows I let you look and told you what's what. Well, decent-likeGene is seen' them poor devils get a square meal. They're only a lot ofcalf-thieves in this country. Across the border they're bandits, some ofthem, the others just riffraff outlaws. That rebel bluff doesn't go downwith us. I'd have to see first before I'd believe them Greasers wouldfight. They're a lot of hard-ridin' thieves, and they'd steal a fellow'sblanket or tobacco. Gene thinks they're after you ladies--to carry youoff. But Gene--Oh, Gene's some highfalutin in his ideas lately. Most ofus boys think the guerrillas are out to rob--that's all."
Whatever might have been the secret motive of Don Carlos and his men,they did not allow it to interfere with a hearty appreciation of agenerous amount of food. Plainly, each individual ate all that he wasable to eat at the time. They jabbered like a flock of parrots; somewere even merry, in a kind of wild way. Then, as each and every onebegan to roll and smoke the inevitable cigarette of the Mexican, therewas a subtle change in manner. They smoked and looked about the camp,off into the woods, up at the crags, and back at the leisurely cowboys.They had the air of men waiting for something.
"Senor," began Don Carlos, addressing Stewart. As he spoke he swept hissombrero to indicate the camp circle.
Madeline could not distinguish his words, but his gesture plainlyindicated a question in regard to the rest of the camping party.Stewart's reply and the wave of his hand down the trail meant that hisparty had gone home. Stewart turned to some task, and the guerrillaleader quietly smoked. He looked cunning and thoughtful. His mengradually began to manifest a restlessness, noticeable in the absenceof former languor and slow puffing of cigarette smoke. Presently abig-boned man with a bullet head and a blistered red face of evilcoarseness got up and threw away his cigarette. He was an American.
"Hey, cull," he called in loud voice, "ain't ye goin' to cough up adrink?"
"My boys don't carry liquor on the trail," replied Stewart. He turnednow to face the guerrillas.
"Haw, haw! I heerd over in Rodeo thet ye was gittin' to be shore somefer temperance," said this fellow. "I hate to drink water, but I guessI've gotter do it."
He went to the spring, sprawled down to drink, and all of a sudden hethrust his arm down in the water to bring forth a basket. The cowboysin the hurry of packing had neglected to remove this basket; and itcontained bottles of wine and liquors for Madeline's guests. They hadbeen submerged in the spring to keep them cold. The guerrilla fumbledwith the lid, opened it, and then got up, uttering a loud roar ofdelight.
Stewart made an almost imperceptible motion, as if to leap forward; buthe checked the impulse, and after a quick glance at Nels he said to theguerrilla:
"Guess my party forgot that. You're welcome to it." Like bees theguerrillas swarmed around the lucky finder of the bottles. There wasa babel of voices. The drink did not last long, and it served only toliberate the spirit of recklessness. The several white outlaws began toprowl around the camp; some of the Mexicans did likewise; others waited,showing by their ill-concealed expectancy the nature of their thoughts.
It was the demeanor of Stewart and his comrades that puzzled Madeline.A
In her growing excitement Madeline had not clearly heard Ambrose's lowwhispers and she made an effort to distract some of her attention fromthose below to the cowboy crouching beside her.
The quality, the note of Ambrose's whisper had changed. It had a slightsibilant sound.
"Don't be mad if sudden-like I clap my hands over your eyes, MissHammond," he was saying. "Somethin's brewin' below. I never seen Geneso cool. That's a dangerous sign in him. And look, see how the boys areworkin' together! Oh, it's slow and accident-like, but I know it's surenot accident. That foxy Greaser knows, too. But maybe his men don't. Ifthey are wise they haven't sense enough to care. The Don, though--he'sworried. He's not payin' so much attention to Gene, either. It's Nelsand Monty he's watchin'. And well he need do it! There, Nick and Frankhave settled down on that log with Booly. They don't seem to be packin'guns. But look how heavy their vests hang. A gun in each side! Thoseboys can pull a gun and flop over that log quicker than you can think.Do you notice how Nels and Monty and Gene are square between themguerrillas and the trail up here? It doesn't seem on purpose, but it is.Look at Nels and Monty. How quiet they are confabbin' together, payin'no attention to the guerrillas. I see Monty look at Gene, then I seeNels look at Gene. Well, it's up to Gene. And they're goin' to back him.I reckon, Miss Hammond, there'd be dead Greasers round that camp longago if Nels and Monty were foot-loose. They're beholdin' to Gene. That'splain. And, Lord! how it tickles me to watch them! Both packin' twoforty-fives, butts swingin' clear. There's twenty-four shots in themfour guns. And there's twenty-three guerrillas. If Nels and Monty everthrow guns at that close range, why, before you'd know what was upthere'd be a pile of Greasers. There! Stewart said something to the Don.I wonder what. I'll gamble it was something to get the Don's outfit allclose together. Sure! Greasers have no sense. But them white guerrillas,they're lookin' some dubious. Whatever's comin' off will come soon, youcan bet. I wish I was down there. But maybe it won't come to a scrap.Stewart's set on avoidin' that. He's a wonderful chap to get his way.Lord, though, I'd like to see him go after that overbearin' Greaser!See! the Don can't stand prosperity. All this strange behavior ofcowboys is beyond his pulque-soaked brains. Then he's a Greaser. IfGene doesn't knock him on the head presently he'll begin to get over hisscare, even of Nels and Monty. But Gene'll pick out the right time. AndI'm gettin' nervous. I want somethin' to start. Never saw Nels in butone fight, then he just shot a Greaser's arm off for tryin' to drawon him. But I've heard all about him. And Monty! Monty's the realold-fashioned gun-man. Why, none of them stories, them lies he told toentertain the Englishman, was a marker to what Monty has done. What Idon't understand is how Monty keeps so quiet and easy and peaceful-like.That's not his way, with such an outfit lookin' for trouble. O-ha! Nowfor the grand bluff. Looks like no fight at all!"
The guerrilla leader had ceased his restless steps and glances, andturned to Stewart with something of bold resolution in his aspect.
"Gracias, senor," he said. "Adios." He swept his sombrero in thedirection of the trail leading down the mountain to the ranch; and as hecompleted the gesture a smile, crafty and jeering, crossed his swarthyface.
Ambrose whispered so low that Madeline scarcely heard him. "If theGreaser goes that way he'll find our horses and get wise to the trick.Oh, he's wise now! But I'll gamble he never even starts on that trail."
Neither hurriedly nor guardedly Stewart rose out of his leaning postureand took a couple of long strides toward Don Carlos.
"Go back the way you came," he fairly yelled; and his voice had the ringof a bugle.
Ambrose nudged Madeline; his whisper was tense and rapid: "Don't missnothin'. Gene's called him. Whatever's comin' off will be here quick aslightnin'. See! I guess maybe that Greaser don't savvy good U. S. lingo.Look at that dirty yaller face turn green. Put one eye on Nels andMonty! That's great--just to see 'em. Just as quiet and easy. Butoh, the difference! Bent and stiff--that means every muscle is like arawhide riata. They're watchin' with eyes that can see the workin's ofthem Greasers' minds. Now there ain't a hoss-hair between them Greasersand hell!"
Don Carlos gave Stewart one long malignant stare; then he threw back hishead, swept up the sombrero, and his evil smile showed gleaming teeth.
"Senor--" he began.
With magnificent bound Stewart was upon him. The guerrilla's cry wasthrottled in his throat. A fierce wrestling ensued, too swift to seeclearly; then heavy, sodden blows, and Don Carlos was beaten to theground. Stewart leaped back. Then, crouching with his hands on the buttsof guns at his hips, he yelled, he thundered at the guerrillas. He hadbeen quicker than a panther, and now his voice was so terrible thatit curdled Madeline's blood, and the menace of deadly violence in hiscrouching position made her shut her eyes. But she had to open them. Inthat single instant Nels and Monty had leaped to Stewart's side. Bothwere bent down, with hands on the butts of guns at their hips. Nels'spiercing yell seemed to divide Monty's roar of rage. Then they ceased,and echoes clapped from the crags. The silence of those three mencrouching like tigers about to leap was more menacing than thenerve-racking yells.
Then the guerrillas wavered and broke and ran for their horses. DonCarlos rolled over, rose, and staggered away, to be helped upon hismount. He looked back, his pale and bloody face that of a thwarteddemon. The whole band got into action and were gone in a moment.
"I knew it," declared Ambrose. "Never seen a Greaser who could facegun-play. That was some warm. And Monty Price never flashed a gun! He'llnever get over that. I reckon, Miss Harnmond, we're some lucky to avoidtrouble. Gene had his way, as you seen. We'll be makin' tracks for theranch in about two shakes."
"Why?" whispered Madeline, breathlessly. She became conscious that shewas weak and shaken.
"Because the guerrillas sure will get their nerve back, and comesneakin' on our trail or try to head us off by ambushin'," repliedAmbrose. "That's their way. Otherwise three cowboys couldn't bluffa whole gang like that. Gene knows the nature of Greasers. They'rewhite-livered. But I reckon we're in more danger now than before, unlesswe get a good start down the mountain. There! Gene's callin'. Come!Hurry!"
Helen had slipped down from her vantage-point, and therefore had notseen the last act in that little camp-fire drama. It seemed, however,that her desire for excitement was satisfied, for her face was pale andshe trembled when she asked if the guerrillas were gone.
"I didn't see the finish, but those horrible yells were enough for me."
Ambrose hurried the three women over the rough rocks, down the cliff.The cowboys below were saddling horses in haste. Evidently all thehorses had been brought out of hiding. Swiftly, with regard only forlife and limb, Madeline, Helen, and Christine were lowered by lassoesand half carried down to the level. By the time they were safely downthe other members of the party appeared on the cliff above. They were inexcellent spirits, appearing to treat the matter as a huge joke.
Ambrose put Christine on a horse and rode away through the pines;Frankie Slade did likewise with Helen. Stewart led Madeline's horse upto her, helped her to mount, and spoke one stern word, "Wait!" Then asfast as one of the women reached the level she was put upon a horse andtaken away by a cowboy escort. Few words were spoken. Haste seemed tobe the great essential. The horses were urged, and, once in the trail,spurred and led into a swift trot. One cowboy drove up four pack-horses,and these were hurriedly loaded with the party's baggage. Castletonand his companions mounted, and galloped off to catch the others in thelead. This left Madeline behind with Stewart and Nels and Monty.
"They're go
Nels smiled reassuringly at Madeline, but he did not speak to her. Montytook her canteen and filled it at the spring and hung it over the pommelof her saddle. He put a couple of biscuits in the saddle-bag.
"Don't fergit to take a drink an' a bite as you're ridin' along," hesaid. "An' don't worry, Miss Majesty. Stewart'll be with you, an' me an'Nels hangin' on the back-trail."
His somber and sullen face did not change in its strange intensity, butthe look in his eyes Madeline felt she would never forget. Left alonewith these three men, now stripped of all pretense, she realized howfortune had favored her and what peril still hung in the balance.Stewart swung astride his big black, spurred him, and whistled. At thewhistle Majesty jumped, and with swift canter followed Stewart. Madelinelooked back to see Nels already up and Monty handing him a rifle. Thenthe pines hid her view.
Once in the trail, Stewart's horse broke into a gallop. Majesty changedhis gait and kept at the black's heels. Stewart called back a warning.The low, wide-spreading branches of trees might brush Madeline out ofthe saddle. Fast riding through the forest along a crooked, obstructedtrail called forth all her alertness. Likewise the stirring of herblood, always susceptible to the spirit and motion of a ride, let aloneone of peril, now began to throb and burn away the worry, the dread, thecoldness that had weighted her down.
Before long Stewart wheeled at right angles off the trail and entered ahollow between two low bluffs. Madeline saw tracks in the open patchesof ground. Here Stewart's horse took to a brisk walk. The hollowdeepened, narrowed, became rocky, full of logs and brush. Madelineexerted all her keenness, and needed it, to keep close to Stewart. Shedid not think of him, nor her own safety, but of keeping Majesty closein the tracks of the black, of eluding the sharp spikes in the deadbrush, of avoiding the treacherous loose stones.
At last Madeline was brought to a dead halt by Stewart and his horseblocking the trail. Looking up, she saw they were at the head of acanyon that yawned beneath and widened its gray-walled, green-patchedslopes down to a black forest of fir. The drab monotony of the foothillsmade contrast below the forest, and away in the distance, rosy andsmoky, lay the desert. Retracting her gaze, Madeline saw pack-horsescross an open space a mile below, and she thought she saw thestag-hounds. Stewart's dark eyes searched the slopes high up along thecraggy escarpments. Then he put the black to the descent.
If there had been a trail left by the leading cowboys, Stewart didnot follow it. He led off to the right, zigzagging an intricate coursethrough the roughest ground Madeline had ever ridden over. He crashedthrough cedars, threaded a tortuous way among boulders, made his horseslide down slanting banks of soft earth, picked a slow and cautiousprogress across weathered slopes of loose rock. Madeline followed,finding in this ride a tax on strength and judgment. On an ordinaryhorse she never could have kept in Stewart's trail. It was dust andheat, a parching throat, that caused Madeline to think of time; and shewas amazed to see the sun sloping to the west. Stewart never stopped;he never looked back; he never spoke. He must have heard the horse closebehind him. Madeline remembered Monty's advice about drinking and eatingas she rode along. The worst of that rough travel came at the bottom ofthe canyon. Dead cedars and brush and logs were easy to pass comparedwith the miles, it seemed, of loose boulders. The horses slipped andstumbled. Stewart proceeded here with exceeding care. At last, when thecanyon opened into a level forest of firs, the sun was setting red inthe west.
Stewart quickened the gait of his horse. After a mile or so of easytravel the ground again began to fall decidedly, sloping in numerousridges, with draws between. Soon night shadowed the deeper gullies.Madeline was refreshed by the cooling of the air.
Stewart traveled slowly now. The barks of coyotes seemed to startlehim. Often he stopped to listen. And during one of those intervals thesilence was broken by sharp rifle-shots. Madeline could not tell whetherthey were near or far, to right or left, behind or before. EvidentlyStewart was both alarmed and baffled. He dismounted. He went cautiouslyforward to listen. Madeline fancied she heard a cry, low and far away.It was only that of a coyote, she convinced herself, yet it was sowailing, so human, that she shuddered. Stewart came back. He slipped thebridles of both horses, and he led them. Every few paces he stopped tolisten. He changed his direction several times, and the last time he gotamong rough, rocky ridges. The iron shoes of the horses cracked on therocks. That sound must have penetrated far into the forest. It perturbedStewart, for he searched for softer ground. Meanwhile the shadows mergedinto darkness. The stars shone. The wind rose. Madeline believed hourspassed.
Stewart halted again. In the gloom Madeline discerned a log cabin, andbeyond it pear-pointed dark trees piercing the sky-line. She could justmake out Stewart's tall form as he leaned against his horse. Either hewas listening or debating what to do--perhaps both. Presently he wentinside the cabin. Madeline heard the scratching of a match; then she sawa faint light. The cabin appeared to be deserted. Probably it was one ofthe many habitations belonging to prospectors and foresters who lived inthe mountains. Stewart came out again. He walked around the horses, outinto the gloom, then back to Madeline. For a long moment he stood asstill as a statue and listened. Then she heard him mutter, "If we haveto start quick I can ride bareback." With that he took the saddle andblanket off his horse and carried them into the cabin.
"Get off," he said, in a low voice, as he stepped out of the door.
He helped her down and led her inside, where again he struck a match.Madeline caught a glimpse of a rude fireplace and rough-hewn logs.Stewart's blanket and saddle lay on the hard-packed earthen floor.
"Rest a little," he said. "I'm going into the woods a piece to listen.Gone only a minute or so."
Madeline had to feel round in the dark to locate the saddle and blanket.When she lay down it was with a grateful sense of ease and relief. Asher body rested, however, her mind became the old thronging maze forsensation and thought. All day she had attended to the alert businessof helping her horse. Now, what had already happened, the night, thesilence, the proximity of Stewart and his strange, stern caution, thepossible happenings to her friends--all claimed their due share of herfeeling. She went over them all with lightning swiftness of thought. Shebelieved, and she was sure Stewart believed, that her friends, owing totheir quicker start down the mountain, had not been headed off in theirtravel by any of the things which had delayed Stewart. This convictionlifted the suddenly returning dread from her breast; and as for herself,somehow she had no fear. But she could not sleep; she did not try to.
Stewart's soft steps sounded outside. His dark form loomed in the door.As he sat down Madeline heard the thump of a gun that he laid besidehim on the sill; then the thump of another as he put that down, too.The sounds thrilled her. Stewart's wide shoulders filled the door; hisfinely shaped head and strong, stern profile showed clearly in outlineagainst the sky; the wind waved his hair. He turned his ear to that windand listened. Motionless he sat for what to her seemed hours.
Then the stirring memory of the day's adventure, the feeling ofthe beauty of the night, and a strange, deep-seated, sweetly vagueconsciousness of happiness portending, were all burned out in hot,pressing pain at the remembrance of Stewart's disgrace in her eyes.Something had changed within her so that what had been anger at herselfwas sorrow for him. He was such a splendid man. She could not feel thesame; she knew her debt to him, yet she could not thank him, could notspeak to him. She fought an unintelligible bitterness.
Then she rested with closed eyes, and time seemed neither short norlong. When Stewart called her she opened her eyes to see the gray ofdawn. She rose and stepped outside. The horses whinnied. In a moment shewas in the saddle, aware of cramped muscles and a weariness of limbs.Stewart led off at a sharp trot into the fir forest. T
When Madeline rode out of the firs the sun had arisen and the foothillsrolled beneath her; and at their edge, where the gray of valley began,she saw a dark patch that she knew was the ranch-house.