CHAPTER XIX

  AN INDIAN SCARE

  The year closed with dry, open weather. The cattle scattered wide,ranging farther afield, unmolested except by shifting winds. The latterwas a matter of hourly observation, affording its lesson to thebrothers, and readily explained by the older and more practical men. Forinstance, a north or the dreaded east wind brought the herd into thevalley, where it remained until the weather moderated, and then driftedout of its own free will. When a balmy south wind blew, the cattlegrazed against it, and when it came from a western quarter, they turnedtheir backs and the gregarious instinct to flock was noticeable. Undersettled weather, even before dawn, by noting the quarter of the wind, itwas an easy matter to foretell the movement of the herd for thecoming day.

  The daily tasks rested lightly. The line was ridden as usual, but moreas a social event than as a matter of necessity. The occasional reportsof Manly to his employer were flattering in the extreme. Any riskinvolved in the existing contract hinged on the present winter, andsince it was all that could be desired, every fine day added to theadvantage of Wells Brothers. So far their venture had been greeted withfair winds, and with not a cloud in the visible sky. Manly was evenrecalled by Mr. Stoddard early in February.

  Month after month passed without incident. Spring came fully a fortnightearlier than the year before. By the middle of March, the willows werebent with pollen, the birds returned, and the greening slopes rolledaway and were lost behind low horizons. The line-camp was abandoned, thecattle were scattered over the entire valley, and the instincts togarden were given free rein. The building of two additional tanks, onebelow the old trail crossing and the other near the new camp above,occupied a month's time to good advantage. It enlarged the range beyondpresent needs; but the brothers were wrestling with a rare opportunity,and theirs was strictly a policy of expansion.

  An occasional trip to the railroad, for supplies or pressing errand, wasusually rewarded with important news. During the winter just passed,Kansas had quarantined against Texas cattle, and the trail was barredfrom that state. Early in May information reached the ranch that themarket interests of Dodge City had moved over the line into Colorado,and had established a town on the railroad, to be known as Trail City. Afeasible route lay open to the south, across No-Man's-Land, into theTexas Panhandle, while scouting parties were out with the intent oflocating a new trail to Ogalalla. It would cross the Republican Rivernearly due westward from headquarters, and in the neighborhood of onehundred miles distant.

  "There you are," said Sargent, studying a railroad folder. "You musthave water for the herds, so the new market will have a river and arailroad. It simply means that the trail has shifted from the east tothe west of your range. As long as the country is open, you can buycattle at Trail City, hold them on the Colorado line until frost, andcross to your own range with a few days' travel. It may prove anadvantage after all."

  The blessing of sunshine and shower rested on the new ranch. The beaverponds filled, the spill-ways of every tank ran like a mill race, and thequestion of water for the summer was answered. The cattle early showedthe benefits of the favorable winter, and by June the brands werereadable at a glance. From time to time reports from the outside worldreached the brothers, and among other friendly letters received was anoccasional inquiry from the commission firm, the factors named under theexisting contract. The house kept in touch with the range, was fullyaware of the open winter, and could easily anticipate its effects inmaturing cattle for early shipment.

  The solicitors of the firm, graduates of the range, were sent out amonth in advance of other years. Wells Brothers were advised of apromised visit by one of the traveling agents of the commission house,and during the first week in July he arrived at headquarters. He was apractical man, with little concern for comfort, as long as there werecattle to look over. Joel took him in tow, mounted him on the pick ofsaddle horses, and the two leisurely rode the range.

  "What does he say?" inquired Dell, after a day's ride.

  "Not a word," answered Joel. "He can't talk any more than I can. Put inall day just looking and thinking. He must like cattle that range wide,for we rode around every outside bunch. He _can_ talk, because headmitted we have good horses."

  Again the lesson that contact teaches was accented anew. At parting thefollowing morning, in summing up the outlook, the solicitor surprisedthe brothers. "The situation is clear," said he quietly. "You must shipearly. Your double-wintered beeves will reach their prime this month.You may ship them any day after the 25th. Your single-wintered ones canfollow in three weeks. The firm may be able to advise you when to ship.It's only a fourteen-hour run to the yards, and if you work abeef-shipping outfit that's up to date, you can pick your day to reachthe market. Get your outfit together, keep in touch with the house bywire, and market your beef in advance of the glut from thePlatte country."

  The solicitor lifted the lines over a livery team. "One moment," saidJoel. "Advise Mr. Stoddard that we rely on him to furnish us two menduring the beef-shipping season."

  "Anything else?" inquired the man, a memorandum-book in hand.

  "Where are the nearest ranches to ours?"

  "On the Republican, both above and below the old trail crossing. Theremay be extra men over on the river," said the solicitor, fullyanticipating the query.

  "That's all," said Joel, extending his hand.

  The stranger drove away. The brothers exchanged a puzzled glance, butSargent smiled. "That old boy sabes cows some little," said the latter."The chances are that he's forgotten more about cattle than some ofthese government experts ever knew. Anyway, he reads the sign withoutmuch effort. His survey of this range and the outlook are worthlistening to. Better look up an outfit of men."

  "We'll gather the remuda to-day," announced Joel. "While I'm gone to theRepublican, you boys can trim up and gentle the horses."

  The extra mounts, freed the fall before, had only been located on therange, and must be gathered and brought in to headquarters at once. Theyhad ranged in scattering bunches during the winter, and a single daywould be required to gather and corral the ranch remuda. It numbered,complete, ninety-six horses, all geldings, and the wisdom of buying themajority a year in advance of their needs reflected the foresight of aveteran cowman. Many of them were wild, impossible of approach, the callof the plain and the free life of their mustang ancestors pulsing withevery heart-beat, and several days would be required to bring them underdocile subjection. There were scraggy hoofs to trim, witches' bridles todisentangle, while long, bushy, matted tails must be thinned to agraceful sweep.

  The beginning of work acted like a tonic. The boys sallied forth,mounted on their best horses, their spirits soaring among the clouds.During the spring rains, several small lakes had formed in the sandhills, at one of which a band of some thirty saddle horses was watering.The lagoon was on the extreme upper end of the range, fully fifteenmiles from headquarters; and as all the saddle stock must be brought in,the day's work required riding a wide circle. Skirting the sand dunes,by early noon all the horses were in hand, save the band of thirty.There was no occasion for all hands to assist in bringing in the absentones, and a consultation resulted in Joel and Dell volunteering for thetask, while Sargent returned home with the horses already gathered.

  The range of the band was well known, and within a few hours afterparting with Sargent, the missing horses were in hand. The brothers knewevery horse, and, rejoicing in their splendid condition, they startedhomeward, driving the loose mounts before them. The most direct courseto headquarters was taken, which would carry the cavalcade past thesprings and the upper winter quarters. The latter was situated in thebrakes of the Beaver, several abrupt turns of the creek, until its nearapproach, shutting out a western view of the deserted dug-out. Thecavalcade was drifting home at a gentle trot, but on approaching TheWagon, a band of ponies was sighted forward and in a bend of the creek.The boys veered their horses, taking to the western divide, and ongaining it, saw below them and at the distance
of only a quarter-mile,around the springs, an Indian encampment of a dozen tepees and lean-tos.

  Dell and Joel were struck dumb at the sight. To add to their surprise,all the dogs in the encampment set up a howling, the Indians cametumbling from their temporary shelters, many of them running for theirponies on picket, while an old, almost naked leader signaled to thebrothers. It was a moment of bewilderment with the boys, who conversedin whispers, never halting on their course, and when the Indians reachedtheir ponies, every brave dashed up to the encampment. A short parleyfollowed, during which signaling was maintained by the old Indian,evidently a chief; but the boys kept edging away, and the old bravesprang on a pony and started in pursuit, followed by a number ofhis band.

  The act was tinder to powder. The boys gave rowel to their mounts, shookout their ropes, raised the long yell, and started the loose horses in amad dash for home. It was ten long miles to headquarters, and theirmounts, already fagged by carrying heavy saddles and the day's work,were none too fresh, while the Indians rode bareback and were notencumbered by an ounce of extra clothing.

  The boys led the race by fully five hundred yards. But instead of takingto the divide, the Indians bore down the valley, pursued and pursuers inplain sight of each other. For the first mile or so the loose horseswere no handicap, showing clean heels and keeping clear of the whizzingropes. But after the first wild dash, the remuda began to scatter, andthe Indians gained on the cavalcade, coming fairly abreast and not overfour hundred yards distant.

  "They're riding to cut us off!" gasped Dell. "They'll cut us off fromheadquarters!"

  "Our horses will outwind their ponies," shouted Joel, in reply. "Don'tlet these loose horses turn into the valley."

  The divide was more difficult to follow than the creek. The meanderingsof the latter were crossed and recrossed without halting, while thewatershed zigzagged, or was broken and cut by dry washes and coulees,thus retarding the speed of the cavalcade. The race wore on with varyingadvantage, and when near halfway to headquarters, the Indians turned upthe slope as if to verify Dell's forecast. At this juncture, ahalf-dozen of the loose horses cut off from the band and turned down theslope in plain sight of the pursuers.

  THE FIRST ROUND-UP OF THE DAY]

  "If it's horses they want, they can have those," shouted Joel. "Climbingthat slope will fag their ponies. Come on; here's where we have thebest of it."

  The Indians were not to be pacified. Without a look they swept past theabandoned horses. The boys made a clear gain along a level stretch onthe divide, maintaining their first lead, when the pursuers, baffled incutting them off, turned again into the valley.

  "It isn't horses they want," ventured Dell, with a backward glance.

  "In the next dip, we'll throw the others down the western slope, andride for our lives," answered Joel, convinced that a sacrifice of horseswould not appease their pursuers.

  The opportunity came shortly, when for a few minutes the brothers dippedfrom sight of the Indians. The act confused the latter, who scaled thedivide, only to find the objects of their chase a full half-mile in thelead, but calling on the last reserve in their fagged horses. Thepursuers gradually closed the intervening gap; but with the advantage ofknowing every foot of the ground, the brothers took a tack which carriedthem into the valley at the old winter corral. From that point it was astraight stretch homeward, and, their horses proving their mettle, theboys dashed up to the stable, where Sargent was found at work among theother horses.

  "Indians! Indians!" shouted Dell, who arrived in the lead. "Indians havebeen chasing us all afternoon. Run for your life, Jack!"

  Joel swept past a moment later, accenting the situation, and as Sargentleft the corral, he caught sight of the pursuing Indians, and showedsplendid action in reaching the dug-out.

  Breathless and gasping, Dell and Joel each grasped a repeating rifle,while Sargent, in the excitement of the moment, unable to unearth thestory, buckled on a six-shooter. The first reconnoitre revealed theIndians halted some two hundred yards distant, and parleying amongthemselves. At a first glance, the latter seemed to be unarmed, and onSargent stepping outside the shack, the leader, the old brave, simplyheld up his hand.

  "They must be peaceful Indians," said Sargent to the boys, and signaledin the leader.

  The old Indian jogged forward on his tired pony, leaving his followersbehind, and on riding up, a smile was noticeable on his wrinkled visage.He dismounted, unearthing from his scanty breech-clout a greasy, grimyletter, and tendered it to Sargent.

  The latter scanned the missive, and turning to the boys, who hadventured forth, broke into a fit of laughter.

  "Why, this is Chief Lone Wolf," said Sargent, "from the Pine RidgeAgency, going down to see his kinsfolks in the Indian Territory. Theagent at Pine Ridge says that Lone Wolf is a peaceful Indian, and hashis permission to leave the reservation. He hopes that nothing butkindness will be shown the old chief in his travels, and bespeaks theconfidence of any white settlers that he may meet on the way. You boysmust have been scared out of your wits. Lone Wolf only wanted to showyou this letter."

  Sargent conversed with the old chief in Spanish, the others weresignaled in, when a regular powwow ensued. Dell and Joel shook handswith all the Indians, Sargent shared his tobacco with Lone Wolf, and onreturning to their encampment at evening, each visitor was burdened withpickled beef and such other staples as the cow-camp afforded.