CHAPTER 16
Diablo greeted them with a throwing up of his formidable head. He tookhis place in the very middle of his corral, but when Bull Hunter andhis small guide reached the bars, the black stallion seemed to gosuddenly mad. He flung himself into the air and came down bucking.Back and forth across the corral he threw himself in the wildest swirlof pitching that Bull Hunter had ever seen or ever dreamed of.
"He's an educated bucker, you see?" said the boy in admiration. "Theyain't any trick that he don't know. Look!"
Diablo had begun to sunfish in the most approved method, and swirledfrom this to some fence rowing as swift as the jagged course oflightning. At every jump Bull could see an imaginary rider snappedfrom the back of the black giant. A cloud of dust was sent swishingup, and in the midst of this fog, Diablo came to a pause as sudden asthe beginning of his strange struggle against an imaginary foeman; butit seemed to Bull Hunter that the ground beneath his feet was stillquivering from the impacts of that mighty body.
"That's just his way of telling you what he'll do when you try tosaddle him," chuckled the boy.
As he spoke he slipped through the bars of the corral.
"Look out!" exclaimed Bull in horror, for the stallion had rushed atthe small intruder with gaping mouth. Bull reached for his gun--Diablowas already on the child, but at the last minute he swerved, andflashed around Tod in a circle.
"He's all right," Tod was shrilling through his laughter, for thehorrified face of Bull amused him. "That's just his way of saying thathe's glad to see me!"
In fact, Diablo came to a sudden halt directly behind the child, hishead towering aloft above that of Tod while he flashed his defiance atBull Hunter, as though he were making use of the small bulwark of Todagainst the stranger.
"Diablo, you old fool," the boy was saying, as he reached up andmanaged to wind his fingers in the end of Diablo's mane, "you comealong and meet my friend, Bull Hunter. I figure you're going to get toknow him pretty good before long. Hey, Bull, come up close to the barsso's he can see you ain't got a rope or a whip or spurs, and stickyour hand out so's he can sniff at it. That's his way of sayinghow d'ye do."
Bull obeyed, and to his amazement, Diablo responded to the smallforward urge of the child's hand and approached the bars one tremblingstep at a time. Bull began to talk to him softly. He had never talkedlike this to any living creature. He did not know exactly what hesaid. The words came of their own accord into his throat. He only knewthat he wanted to reassure the big, powerful, uncertain brute, andthough Diablo stopped short at the first sound of Bull's voice andlaid his ears back, he presently pricked one of those ears again andallowed himself to be drawn forward with long, crouching strides.
"That's the way!" said the child softly, as though he feared that aloud voice might break in upon the spell. "You know how to talk tohim! And, outside of me, you're the only one that does! I knew you'dhave it in you!"
For Diablo had extended his long neck and actually sniffed the hand ofBull Hunter. He immediately tossed his head aloft, but he did notflinch away.
"That's half the fight won already," advised the boy in the same softvoice. "D'you want to try the saddle on him now?"
"The saddle? Now?" exclaimed Bull. "I should say not! Why, he don'thardly know me; I'll have to get acquainted before I try anythinglike that."
He discovered that Tod was nodding in hearty approval.
"You do know," he said. "Don't tell me that you ain't been aroundhosses a pile. Yep, you got to get acquainted. What you want todo now?"
Bull considered. "I'd like to have something to show him that it isn'tunpleasant having me around. I'd like to have him see some goodresults, you know? Is there anything I could feed him?"
The boy chuckled. "Best thing is some dried prunes with the pits takenout of 'em. I have some at the house. They get stuck in Diablo's teethand it's sure funny to see him eat 'em. But he just nacherally plumblikes the taste of the prunes."
He followed his own suggestion by scampering away to the house andreturned almost at once with a hat full of the prunes.
"You want to feed him these now?"
"First," said Bull, "I'd like to have you leave us alone. If I can'tteach him to like me all by myself, then I'd better give upright away."
The boy looked at him in surprise and then impulsively stretched outhis hand. They shook hands gravely.
"You got the right idea, pardner," said Tod. "Go ahead--and good luck!And keep talking to him all the time. That's the main thing!"
He retreated accordingly, but before the evening was over, Bullregretted dismissing his little ally so quickly, for although Diabloindulged in no more threatening outbreaks of temper, he resolutelyrefused to eat the prunes from Bull's hand. Several times heapproached the bars of the corral and the patiently extended hand, butalways he drew back, snorting, and sometimes he would run around thecorral, shaking his head and throwing up his heels after the manner ofa horse tempted but still afraid of being overruled.
It was long after dark when Bull gave up the attempt. He went back tothe bunkhouse, rolled up the blankets which had been assigned to him,and carried them out to the corral. Close to the fence he laid themdown, and a few minutes later he was wrapped in them and sound asleep.The last thing he remembered was the form of the great stallion,standing watchfully in the exact middle of the corral, the starlightglimmering very faintly in his big eyes.
Bull Hunter fell asleep and had a nightmare of the arrival of thefamous Hal Dunbar the next day, a fierce conquest of Diablo, and thebattle ending with the departure of Dunbar on the back ofthe stallion.
The dream waked him, nervous, and he turned and saw Diablo standinghuge and formidable in the darkness, as though he had not moved fromhis first position.
In the morning the arduous labors of the building began again, andthough the prodigious appetite of Bull at the breakfast table madeeven old Bridewell look askance, Bull had not been at work an hourhandling the ponderous uprights and joists before his employer wassmiling to himself. His new hand was certainly worth his keep, andmore, for weariness seemed a stranger to that big body, and no weightwas too great to be cheerily assumed. And always he worked with a sortof nervous anxiety as though he feared that he might not bedoing enough.
During the day Bridewell attempted to probe the past history of hishired man, expecting a story as big as the body of the man, but Bullwas discreetly vague, for he had no wish to reveal his connection withPete Reeve; and if he left out Reeve, he felt that there was nothingin his life worth talking about. Many a time he wondered what thelittle gunfighter was doing, and what trail he was riding now. Adangerous trail, he doubted not, and a lawless trail, he greatlyfeared. But someday he might be able to find the terrible little manand bring him back to a truer place in society.
That night he began again the long, quiet struggle with Diablo; andbefore he ended, Diablo had gathered some of the dried fruit from thepalm of his hand with a sensitive, trembling pair of lips. And he hadcome back for more, and more. Yet it was not until the next night thatBull ventured inside the bars of the corral and sat cross-legged onthe ground, with a vague feeling that Diablo would be less alarmed ifhis visitor bulked less large.
Inside the bars he seemed an entirely new proposition to the stallion.The big black kept discreetly on the far side of the corral with muchsnorting and stamping, and it was not until the next evening that heventured to approach the man. Still another day passed before Bull wasallowed to stand and touch the neck of the black; and that, it seemedto him, was the greatest forward step toward the conquest.
It was terribly slow work, and in the meantime the skeleton frame ofthe barn was fast rising. Would he accomplish his purpose by the timethe barn was completed and Bridewell no longer had a use for him? Orwould Hal Dunbar arrive before that appointed time? That night,however, another portentous event happened. Waking in the night, Bullheard a sound of deep, regular breathing close to him, and, turning onhis side, he saw that Diablo had lain down as close to hi
m as thecorral fence would allow, and there he slept, panther-black, sleek inthe starlight. Bull stretched out his hand. The head of the stallionjerked up, but a moment later he carelessly sniffed the extendedfingers and resumed his position of repose. And the heart of BullHunter swelled with triumph.
That event gave him a new idea, and the following evening he made agroundwork of branches in the corner of the corral itself, and putdown his blankets on the evergreens. Diablo was much concerned andwalked about examining the new work from every angle. There Bullslept, and the next night he found that during the day the stallionhad torn the boughs to pieces and scattered them about. He patientlylaid a new foundation, and after this the bed was left strictly alone.
In the meantime Bull had made a light, strong halter of rawhide, andafter several attempts he managed to slip it onto the head of Diablo.Once in place, it was easy to teach Diablo that he must follow when hefelt a pull on the halter--the first steps were rewarded with driedprunes, and after that it was simple.
On that evening, also, Bull made his next step forward toward the mostdifficult proposition of all--he took a partly filled barley sack andput it on the back of Diablo. The next moment the sack was shot intothe air as Diablo leaped up and arched his back like a cat at theheight of his leap. He came down trembling and snorting, but Bullpicked up the fallen sack and allowed him to smell it. Diablo foundthat the smell was good and that the hateful sack even containedthings very good to eat. The next time the sack was put on his back hequivered and shrank, but he did not buck it off.
After that, Bull spent his evenings in gradually increasing the weightof that sack until a full hundred pounds caused Diablo no worrywhatever, and when this point had been attained, Bull decided that hemight venture his own bulk on the back of Diablo. He confided hispurpose to Tod, and the boy, greatly excited, hid himself at adistance to watch.
In the beginning it was deceptively easy. Diablo stood perfectlyunconcerned as Bull raised himself on the bars of the fence. And whenthe long legs of Bull were passed over his back, Diablo merely turnedhis head and sniffed the shoe tentatively. Slowly, very softly,steadying himself on the top bar of the fence, Bull lowered his weightmore and more until the whole burden was on the back of thestallion--and then he took his hands from the top rail.
But the moment he released that grip there was a change in Diablo, asthough he realized that the man had suddenly trusted himself entirelyto his mount. Bull felt a sudden wincing of all that great body; thequarters sank and trembled. He thought at first that it was becausethe horse was failing under the weight of this ponderous burden; butinstinct told him a moment later that it was fear, and a mixture ofsuspicious anger.
Diablo took one of his long, catlike steps, and paused withoutbringing up his other foot. In vain Bull spoke to him, softly,steadily. Diablo took another step, quickened to a soft trot, andstopped suddenly. That weight on his back failed to leave him. Hebegan to tremble violently. Bull felt the sudden thundering of thegreat heart beneath the pressure of his knee.
To the stallion, this man had been a friend, a constant companion. Thetouch of his hand was pleasant. Pleasanter still was the continualdeep murmur of the voice, reassuring, telling him of a superior andguardian mind looking out for his interests. Now that hand wasstroking his sleek neck and that voice was steadily in his ear. Butthe position was the most hated one. To be sure, there was no saddle,no cutting, binding cinch, no drag of cruel Spanish curb to controlhis head, no tearing spurs to threaten him. But his flanks twitchedwhere the spurs had dug in many a time, and he panted, remembering thecinches. Those memories built up a panic. He became unsure. The voicereached him less distinctly. Moreover it was a strange time of theevening. The light of the day was nearly done; the moon was barely up,and all things were ghostly and unreal in that slant light.
Something of all that went through the mind of Diablo was understoodby Bull Hunter. It was telegraphed to him by the twitching andvibration of great muscles, by the stiff arching of the neck, and thesnorting breathing. But he was beginning to forget fear. The stalliondanced lightly forward, and as the wind struck the face of Bull Hunterhe suddenly rejoiced. This was what he had dreamed of, to be carriedthus lightly, easily. The weight that had crushed other horses wasnothing to Diablo. It made him feel buoyant. He became tinglinglyalert. On the back of Diablo not a horse of the mountains couldovertake him if he fled; and not a man of the mountains could escapehim if he pursued on the back of the stallion.
That thought had hardly formed in his excited mind when Diablo sprang,cat-footed, to one side. It made Bull Hunter sway, and he naturallysought to preserve his balance by gripping the powerful barrel of thehorse with his knees. But at the first touch of the knee Diablo wentsuddenly mad. Exactly what he did Bull Hunter never knew. Indeed, itseemed that Diablo left his feet, shot a dizzy height into the air,and at the crest of his rise did three or four things at once. At anyrate, as the stallion landed, Bull pitched from the arched back andhurtled forward and to the right side. He landed heavily against theground, his head striking a small rock; and he lay there amoment, stunned.
Far off he heard Tod shrilling at him, "Bull! Are you hurt?"
He gathered himself together and arose, "I'm all right. Stay where youare!"
"Don't try him again. He'll kill you, Bull!"
"Maybe. But I'm going to try."
Diablo stood on the far side of the corral in the moonlight, asplendid figure with haughty tail and head. Inwardly he was trembling,enraged. He knew what would come. He had thrown men before, andusually he had tried to batter them to pieces after they fell. Thisman he had no desire to batter. There had been no saddle, no bridle,no spurs, no quirt--nevertheless, he must not be controlled by thehand of any man! But having thrown the fellow, now other men would runon him, swinging the accursed ropes over their heads, shouting,cursing at him in strident voices. Vitally he yearned to break throughthe bars of the corral and flee, but the bars were there and he muststay in the inclosure with this friendly enemy. It was not theprostrate man he feared so much as vengeance from other men, for thathad always been the way.
But no one came. No shouts were heard except from the small, thin,familiar voice of Tod. And presently the giant arose from the groundwhere he had fallen and came toward him. Diablo flattened his earsexpectantly. At the first throat-tearing curse he would charge. But nocurse came. The man approached, as always, with extended hand, and thevoice was the smooth, gentle murmur that carries peace into theshadowy mind of a horse.
Something relaxed in Diablo. If the man did not resent being thrownoff--if that were a sort of game, as it were--why should he, Diablo,resent having the man on his back? The hand touched his nose gently;another hand was stroking his neck.
Presently he was led to the fence and again that heavy weight slidonto his back. He crouched again, with waves of blind panic surging upin him, but the panic did not master his sense this time, and as hisbrain cleared he began to discover that there was no urging, no willof another imposed upon him. He could walk where he pleased, followinghis own sweet will, or else he could stand still. It made nodifference; but the soft-touching hand and the deep, quiet voice wereassuring him that the man was glad to be up there on his back.
Diablo turned his head. One ear quivered and came forward tentatively;then the other. He had accepted Bull Hunter.
Afterward Bull found Tod. The boy wrung his hand ecstatically.
"That's what I call game!" he said.
"Why, Tod," the big man smiled, "you did the same thing."
"He knew I was nothing. But you're a growed man. But--what's this,Bull? Your back's all wet."
"It's nothing much," said Bull calmly. "When I fell, my head hit astone. There's some things worth paying for, and Diablo's oneof them."