Chapter XXXVI. The Empty Cave
Through ten months of the year a child of ten could wade the Asper butnow its deep roaring that set the ground quivering under Barry gave himperfect assurance of safety. Not one of that posse would attempt thecrossing, he felt, but he slipped back through the shrubbery closeto the bank to make sure. He was in time to see Mark Retherton give acommand with gestures that sent reluctant guns into the holsters. Fistswere brandished toward the green covert on the farther side of theriver, so close, such an unreachable distance. One or two rode theirhorses down to the very edge of the water, but they gave up the thoughtand the whole troop turned back toward Wilsonville; even the horses weredown-headed.
Back in the covert he found Bart lying with his head on his paws,his eyes closed, his sides swelling and closing till every rib seemedbroken; yet now and then he opened one red eye to look at Satan. Thestallion lay in almost exactly the same position, and the rush andrattle of his breathing was audible even in the noise of the Asper;Barry dropped prone and pressed his ear against the left side of thehorse, just behind the shoulder. The fierce vibration fairly shookhis head; he could hear the rush of the blood except when that deadlyrattling of the breath came. When he rose to his knees the face of themaster was serious, thoughtful.
"Satan!" he called, but the river must have drowned his voice. Only whenhe passed his fingers down the wet neck, one of Satan's ears pricked,and fell instantly back. It would not do to let him lie there inthe cool mold by the water, for he knew that the greatest danger inoverheating a horse is that it may cool too quickly afterward.
He stooped directly in front of Satan and swept up an arm in command;it brought only a flicker of the eyelid, the eyelid which drooped over aglazing eye.
"Up!" he commanded.
One ear again pricked; the head lifted barely clear of the ground; theforelegs stiffened with effort, trembled, and were still again.
"Bart!" shouted the master, "wake him up!"
The voice could not have carried to the wolf through the uproar of thewaters, but the gesture, the expression brought home the order, andBlack Bart came to his feet, staggering. Right against the nose of Satanhe bared his great teeth and his snarl rattled. No living creature couldhear that sound without starting, and the head of Satan raised high.Still before him Bart growled and under his elbow and his chest thehands of the master strained up. He swayed with a snort very like ahuman groan, struggled, the forelegs secured their purchase, and he cameslowly to his feet. There he stood, braced and head low; a child mighthave caught him by the mane and toppled him upon his side, and alreadyhis hind legs were buckling.
"Get on!" cried Barry.
There was a lift of the head, a quivering of the tensed nostrils,but that was all. He seemed to be dying on his feet, when the masterwhistled. The sound cut through the rushing of the Asper as a rayof light probes a dark room, shrill, harsh, like the hissing of someincredible snake, and Satan went an uncertain step forward, reeled,almost fell; but the shoulder of the master was at his side lifting up,and the arm of the master was under his chest, raising. He tried anotherstep; he went on among the trees with his forelegs sprawling and hishead drooped as though he were trying to crop grass. Black Bart did hispart to recall that flagging spirit. Sometimes it was his snarl thatstartled the black; sometimes he leaped, and his teeth clashed a hair'sbreadth from Satan's nose.
By degrees the congealing blood flowed freely again through Satan'sbody; he no longer staggered; and now he lifted a forepaw and struckvaguely at Bart as the wolf-dog leaped. Barry stepped away.
"Bart!" he called, and the shouting of the Asper was now so far awaythat he could be heard. "Come round here, old boy, and stop botherin'him. He's goin' to pull through."
He leaned against a willow, his face suddenly old and white withsomething more than exhaustion, and laughed in such an oddly pitched,cracked tone that the wolf-dog slunk to him on his belly and licked thedangling hand. He caught the scarred head of Bart and looked steadilydown into the eyes of the wolf.
"It was a close call, Bart. There wasn't more than half an inch betweenSatan and--"
The black turned his head and whinnied feebly.
"Listen to him callin' for help like a new-foaled colt," said themaster, and went to Satan.
The head of the stallion rested on his shoulder as they went slowly on.
"Tonight," said the master, "you get two pieces of pone without askin'."The cold nose of the jealous wolf-dog thrust against his left hind. "Youtoo, Bart. You showed us the way."
The rattle had left the breathing of Satan, the stagger was gonefrom his walk; with each instant he grew perceptibly larger as theyapproached the border of the wood. It fell off to a scattering thicketwith the Grizzly Peaks stepping swiftly up to the sky. This was theirmagic instant in all the day, when the sun, grown low in the west, withbulging sides, gave the mountains a yellow light. They swelled up largerwith warm tints of gold rolling off into the blue of the canyons; at thefoot of the nearest slope a thicket of quaking aspens was struck by abreeze and flashed all silver. Not many moments more, and all the peakswould be falling back into the evening.
It seemed that Satan saw this, for he raised his head from the shoulderof the master and stopped to look.
"Step on," commanded Barry.
The stallion shook himself violently as a dog that knocks the water fromhis pelt, but he took no pace forward.
"Satan!"
The order made him sway forward, but he checked the movement.
"I ask you man to man, Bart," said the master in sudden anger, "wasthere ever a worse fool hoss than him? He won't budge till I get on hisback."
The wolf-dog shoved his nose again into Barry's hand and growled. Heseemed quite willing to go on alone with the master and leave Satanforgotten.
"All right," said Barry. "Satan, are you comin'?"
The horse whinnied, but would not move.
"Then stay here."
He turned his back and walked resolutely across the meadow, but slowly,and more slowly, until a ringing neigh made him stop and turn. Satan hadnot stirred from his first halting place, but now his head was high andhis ears pricked anxiously. He pawed the ground in his impatience.
"Look there, Bart," observed the master gloomily. "There's pride foryou. He won't let on that he's too weak to carry me. Now I'd ought tolet him stay there till he drops."
He whistled suddenly, the call sliding up, breaking, and rising againwith a sharp appeal. Satan neighed again as it died away.
"If that won't bring him, nothin' will. Back we got to go. Bart, youjest take this to heart: It ain't any use tryin' to bring them to reasonthat ain't got any sense."
He went back and sprang lightly to the back of the horse and Satanstaggered a little under the weight but once, as if to prove that hisstrength was more than equal to the task, he broke into a trot. A harshorder called him back to a walk, and so they started up into the GrizzlyPeaks.
By dark, however, a few halts, a chance to crop grass for a momenthere and there, a roll by the next creek and a short draught of water,restored a great part of the black's strength, and before the night wasan hour old he was heading up through the hills at a long, swift trot.
Even then it was that dark, cold time just before dawn when they woundup the difficult pass toward the cave. The moon had gone down; a thin,high mist painted out the stars; and there were only varying degrees ofblackness to show them the way, with peaks and ridges starting hereand there out of the night, very suddenly. It was so dark, indeed, thatsometimes Dan could not see where Bart skulked a little ahead, weavingamong the boulders and picking the easiest way. But all three of themknew the course by instinct, and when they came to a more or lesscommanding rise of ground in the valley Dan checked the stallion andwhistled.
Then he sat canting his head to one side to listen more intently. Arising wind brought about him something like an echo of the sound, butotherwise there was no answer.
"She ain't heard," muttered Dan to
Bart, who came running back at thecall, so familiar to him and to the horse. He whistled again, prolongingthe call until it soared and trembled down the gulch, and this time whenhe stopped he sat for a long moment, waiting, until Black Bart whined athis side.
"She ain't learned to sleep light, yet," muttered Barry. "An' Is'pose she's plumb tired out waitin' for me. But if something'shappened--Satan!"
That word sent the stallion leaping ahead at a racing gait, swervingamong rocks which he could not see.
"They's nothin' wrong with her," whispered Barry to himself. "They can'tbe nothin' happened to her!"
He was in the cave, a moment later, standing in the center of the placewith the torch high above his head; it flared and glimmered in the greateyes of Satan and the narrow eyes of Bart. At length he slipped down toa rock beside him while the torch, fallen from his hand, sputtered andwhispered where it lay on the gravel.
"She's gone," he said to emptiness. "She's lef' me--" Black Bart lickedhis limp hand but dared not even whine.