XIII: AMERICAN RUSTLERS _VS._ MEXICAN RAIDERS
Shoving rapidly into the mountains, Sliver ascended with the trail in acouple of hours through upland growth of _pinon_ and juniper to theheight of land, a pass riven by earthquake or subsidence between twinjagged peaks, from where he overlooked the valley pasture.
Like a great jade bowl, bisected by the silver line of a stream, itswide green circle, miles in diameter, lay within a broad ring of purplechaparral. Over its surface black dots were scurrying toward the corralsat the northern end, and under Sliver's glass these resolved into horsesthat were being rounded up by four Mexicans; for he could see theirpeaked _sombreros_, tight _charro_ suits, even at that distance. Turningthe glass on the _jacal_, a rude hut of poles and grass thatch near thecorrals, he looked for Pedro, the _anciano_.
"Poor old chap! they've sure got his goat." While clucking hiscommiseration, however, he shifted the glass to a patch of white on anear-by tree, and it immediately resolved into the old fellow's blouseand _calzones_. "No, they've just tied him up. Then these ain't noColorados. It's Felicia's gang, all right, all right." He added,chuckling, "Four nice little raiders in a pretty trap, along comes Jakeand Bull, then there was none."
And trapped they were. Except where the stream slipped out over aprecipice between two narrow walls, the mountains rose sheer around theBowl, unscalable save where the trail rose by precarious zigzags towhere Sliver held the pass a thousand feet above. At few places was itpossible for two horsemen to ride abreast. At that point there wasbarely room for one; if necessary, he could have held it, alone, againsta score. But it was not. Watching closely, he saw the raiders firstdrive the horses into the corrals, then settle down for a _siesta_ inthe shade of the _jacal_.
"Going to bring 'em up at sundown," he muttered, "in time to make thefirst run by night."
So certain he was of it that he did not scruple to take a sleep himself;cat-napped, with occasional squints down into the valley up to themoment that he was awakened by the hoof-beats of Jake and Bull's beasts.The glass then showed the raiders working the horses out of the corrals.As the herd thinned out to single file at the trail, one man took thelead; a second and third fell in at even distances; the last brought upthe rear.
"They know their business," Bull commented on the manoeuver. "It'seasier to keep 'em moving." He grimly added: "And easier for us. Theline will string out for a quarter-mile, so I'll go down that distancean' hide in the chaparral. Let the last man pass me before you hold upthe first. Then, while one of you keeps him covered, t'other can takeaway his tools. I'll keep 'em moving on up till you've got the otherthree."
While Jake took away and tied their horses, Bull gained his position. Bythat time the leading raider had gained a like distance uphill and,peeping, Bull watched the thin file of animals wriggling like a slowblack snake up the yellow trail. So clear was the air he could hear,above the thud and scrape of hoofs, the raiders calling to one another.Now they were directly beneath him; so close that he could plainly seethe leader's face, ugly, pock-marked. As he withdrew into the chaparralBull carried with him an irritatingly haunting remembrance. Somewhere,though he could not place it, he had seen the man before! He was stillpuzzling over it when Jake's command rang out in Spanish:
"Hands up!"
The leader looked and complied, persuaded by the black muzzles, wickedeyes, that looked down from the rock above. The second and third men didtry to turn, but were blocked by the file of animals. An attempt to passwould have sent them down, bounding from level to level to the floor ofthe valley below. The fourth man swung his beast around only to findhimself looking into Bull's rifle. So while Jake covered the operationfrom above and Bull from below, Sliver disarmed and bound the raiders.
After the captives were arranged in line under a _copal_ tree upon alittle plateau, where the trail began to fall downhill on the otherside, Bull stood frowning down from his height on the man whose face hadaroused that haunting memory. "I've a hunch that I've seen this chapafore."
He would have been more certain of it had he noticed the fellow's lookof recognition and fear only a moment before. But now his uglycountenance was veiled in that ox-like stolidity which a Mexican _peon_can so easily assume. He shook his head in dull negation to all ofBull's questions. He did not come from any of the neighboring_haciendas_! They had never met before! His _pais_ was far--it mighthave been anywhere in a thousand-mile circle implied by the wave of hishand.
"Yet I could swear to him." Bull looked musingly at Sliver."Pock-marked, too. Where have I seen him afore?"
Sliver shook his head. "Can't prove it be me. All _peones_ look like somany peas in a pod; some mebbe a bit uglier than others; an' pock-marksain't no distinction with two-thirds of 'em pitted like anutmeg-grater."
"That ain't the question before the house, neither," Jake put in. "AllI'm bothering about is whether to hang or shoot 'em. Hanging is what Iwas brought up to, but shooting's more fashionable down here. I'd allowthey'd likely prefer it."
"Shooting's too good for 'em." In a spasm of virtuous indignation,Sliver shook his fist at the captives. "Hanging's slower an' hurts aheap, an' if it gets about that the gent that meddles with our stock isin for a slow, choking they ain't a-going to be near so careless."
"There's something in that," Jake conceded. "An' this copal's got nicestout limbs. We kin use their own riatas, an' that'll be what theTombstone editor used to call 'poetic justice.' Hanging goes."
Bull was still staring at the raider, but, taking his consent forgranted, they proceeded to fit the _riatas_ around the prisoners' necks.Jake had, indeed, thrown the slack of the last over a bough when therecame a rattle of stones and scrape of hoofs on the trail below. Grabbinghis rifle, he slid with Bull and Sliver, each behind a tree. One secondthereafter their guns were trained on the spot where the trail debouchedon the plateau.
Meanwhile, with Gordon in pursuit, Lee had led the race into the hills.Her blood mare was the fleetest animal she owned and, had she chosen,Gordon would have soon dropped out of sight. But she contented herselfwith just holding a lead.
Unaware of this, Gordon made repeated attempts to catch her with suddenbursts of speed. Perfectly aware of it, on her part, she would wait tillhis horse's head almost touched her leg, then shoot ahead with a littlelaugh. Her face, looking back at him, was hard as her laugh--eyes brightand shining, nose contemptuously tilted, mouth one scarlet line.
To be defied, drawn on, mocked, and teased with low, derisive laughteris not a situation that any man loves. But if thoroughly angry, madclear to the bone, Gordon's face revealed only dogged hope. For Chancewas riding with him. If Lee's beast slipped or tired. If she were asecond late with the spur. One of the three was fairly certain, and thebelief set a gleam in his eyes that caused her a quiver of apprehension.
"Oh, he's mad enough to beat me!" she told it to herself. "I wonder ifhe would."
Nevertheless, every time she looked back at that dogged face she felt asense of security. With raiders at large, it was just as well to havehim around! The thought was in her mind when, with him only a few feetbehind, she shot over the edge of the last steep out upon the plateau.
"Oh, my _goodness_!" It burst from her in sudden fright.
The Three, of course, were out of sight. The natural droop of the_copal's_ outer branches hid the halters, and she saw only the fourraiders, unevenly grouped, and three rifle-barrels aimed from behind thetree. As she reined her beast back on its haunches Gordon swung hisanimal sideways between her and the raiders, and, quite shamelessly, sheaccepted the protection.
"Beat it quick!"
Already he had pulled his gun, and but for the fact that Bull just thenstepped out in the open the question of hanging or shooting would havebeen decided for at least one of the thieves. As it was, his readinessserved one purpose--reduced the heat in Bull's eyes.
"Put up your gun, Son, the job's done." Pointing at Lee, he sternlyinquired, "But what's _she_ doing here?"
Now fright, plus Gordon's chivalr
ous behavior, had driven the lastvestige of anger out of Lee. She spoke before he could answer. "Don'tblame him. He did his best to take me in."
"Then who shall I blame?"
"Me!" The coals of her anger sent forth a last flash that wasimmediately quenched by her mischievous smile. "Or blame yourself forleaving me the machete. I wiggled and wiggled till one hand was free,then cut the rope."
Combined with the smile, her little illustrative wriggle completed hisrout. He turned to hide a grin, but was betrayed by his shakingshoulders. Noting it, she flashed with feminine quickness from defendantto accuser. She pointed at the halters.
"_What are you going to do?_"
Sliver and Jake had now come out. The former answered, "We was jestabout to bump 'em off, Miss."
"What? _Hang_ them?"
"Now look a-here, Lady-girl!" Sliver burst forth in indignantremonstrance. "Didn't we catch 'em red-handed? An' d'you allow we'rea-going to let 'em loose to try again?"
"But _hang_ them? Just for stealing? Of course, if they were Colorados,but--" She stopped, clasping her hands in sudden fear. "Oh! they killedhim--poor Pedro?"
"Nary; jes' tied him up," Sliver quickly reassured her. "I seen himwiggling through the glass, an' the big thief, there, says they didn'tharm him."
Sighing with sudden relief, she returned to the charge. "Then if theyspared _him_, why are you going to kill _them_?"
"Look a-here, Missy," Bull now intervened. "'Twas agreed between Bensonan' all the hacendados to make an example of captured raiders. If youonce start letting 'em off, there won't be a head of stock left in allthis country at the end of a year. That was why I wanted you to go back,an'--"
"I'm glad that I didn't."
Up to that moment the raiders had accepted the situation with Indianstoicism. Two of them were still puffing cigarettes Sliver had placed intheir mouths while Jake adjusted the nooses. But their fatalism did notpreclude hope. Though Lee had spoken in English, the language of pity isuniversal. They knew she was interceding, and now the fellow with thepock-marked face loosed upon her a veritable torrent of Spanish.
They were poor _hombres_ with families back in their _pais_ reduced tothe point of starvation by incessant revolutions. Of themselves theywould never have conceived this great wickedness! They had been temptedto banditry by an evil one with the offer of a great price! Forthemselves, they cared not! A few kicks, a gurgle or two, and therewould be an end! But their women? And the little _ninas_? These would beleft in continual suffering!
Children? It drew instant response from dominant maternalism, the deepinstinct that caused Lee to tyrannize over the Three. Dismounting, shebegan to question the prisoners concerning their families and women.Their number, names, and sex? Were they good children? Had they beenduly christened by the priest? Their dispositions and traits? Thus andso on till from a lynching-bee the occasion was in danger of lapsinginto a catechism. For, once started, the bandits were equally willing.Oblivious of nooses and bonds, they plunged into family history andreminiscence, reminding each other of this or that, and while theyrelated and recalled, the sullen hardness died out of their faces,leaving them soft and human.
Vividly, as in real life, Lee saw their corn-stalk _jacales_ with theirbrown wives in the doorways looking anxiously from under shading handsfor their men's return; their small, nude children playing in the hotdust. Here was little Pancho, who would some day be a great _vaquero_,roping chickens and cats with a string _riata_, then dragging them,captive, to the feet of chubby Dolores, who was, as her father swore bythe saints, sweet as the Infant in the arms of the Blessed Virgin. Itwas then that she turned to the Three, her face aglow.
"This man has three little girls. The others all have families. Theywere driven to steal by want. Under the same circumstances any one of usmight have done the same thing. If you had and were caught, how wouldyou feel?"
"_Under the same circumstances, they might have done the same thing!_"She was looking at Bull, but as her glance returned at once to theprisoners she did not see him flush. He looked at Jake, who looked atSliver, who looked away.
A busy and useful present soon buries the memory of a doubtful past, andbeyond the pleasant span of to-day's existence the old rustler life ofyesterday loomed very far away. The fact that, by tacit consent, it wasnow never mentioned among them had helped to bury it more completely.But now, perhaps more vividly for the lapse, there rose in the mind ofeach the spiteful bead eyes, scorpion utterances of Don Miguel in LasBocas, urging them to raid these very horses. Small wonder if theylooked away, or that, as their glances returned, they exchanged sheepishgrins.
"Under the same circumstances," Bull answered, slowly and truthfully,"_we-all 'u'd expect to hang_. But if you feel different"--his glanceinterrogated Sliver and Jake--"it goes as you say. On'y, if you let 'emgo, we'll have to run 'em out of the country in fairness to the otherhaciendas."
"Of course." Lee joyfully accepted the compromise. "We'll take them homenow, and to-morrow Sliver and Jake can run them out."
This settled, and while Sliver rode on down into the valley to free the_anciano_, Bull and Jake cinched the thieves securely in their saddles.Then, driving them and the horses ahead, with Lee and Gordon following,they started down the trail.
Now the spectacle of four men trussed for hanging is not to be seenevery day--let us say, on the streets of New York--and though Gordon hadlooked on with breathless interest, he could hardly believe that thebusiness would have been carried to a conclusion.
"Do you really think they would?"
Lee looked at him in surprise. "Of course! You know Valles has issuedorders for hacendados to shoot raiders on sight; that is"--she added itwith a little sigh--"all but his own."
Her tone was so casual, he felt convicted of vast and unlimitedgreenness. But where, according to the lights under which he had beenraised, he ought to have suffered a severe revulsion, he actuallyexperienced a thrill. This juxtaposition of life and death, the violenceand quickness with which events rang their changes, somehow strippedaway the veils from the riddle of existence, reduced its complex termsto their basic factors. Here in the mountains, desert, plains, they werevery simple--to eat well, sleep well, fight well, and die well, even asthese thieves, comprised the whole duty of man. The thrill recorded hisacceptance of the terms.
While they were riding down and down the sun lowered its great crimsonorb till it hung, transfixed, on a distant peak. The mountain steepsabove, spurs, and ridges beneath, were washed in its dying crimson. Deeppurple filled the hollows; faint violet clothed the distant plains. Overall a cloud-flecked sky spread its parti-colored glories. Mountain andplain, canon and deep ravine, it was a scene infinitely wild, infinitelybeautiful, and as he looked over it all Gordon took his breath in a deepsigh.
"This is life! I hate to leave it."
"Leave it?" If Lee's surprise was assumed, it was exceedingly well done.She went on, with a low laugh: "Oh, I see! Papa wins out. The prodigalwill return to marry the beautiful heiress and live happy everafterward."
"Who told you? Oh, Bull, of course. Now that comes of owning a blabbingtongue. Confound him! Well, since you want to know, I won't. In mypresent mood, New York is the last place in the world I want to see."
"Then you have tired of us--_so_ soon?"
"Or you of me? You forget--_I'm_ fired."
She noted the subtle accent, and equally subtle was her reply. "Why,yes, so you _were_."
Then, looking at each other, they both laughed.