CHAPTER XVI--THE JOKE THAT FAILED
The two girls rode into the melting darkness of the night, and once outof the radiance of the campfires became suddenly appreciative of thesubdued sounds arising from the far-extending valley in which the herdlay.
At a great distance a coyote howled in mournful cadence. There was theuncertain movements of the cattle on the riders' left hand--here onelapped its body with its great tongue--again horns clashed--then a bigsteer staggered to its feet and blew through its nostrils a great sigh.There was, too, the steady chewing of many, many cuds.
A large part of the herd was lying down. Although stars flecked the skyquite thickly the whole valley in which the cattle fed seemedover-mantled with a pall of blackness. Shapes loomed through this withsudden, uncertain outline.
"My! it's shivery, isn't it?" whispered Ruth.
"There won't nothing bite us," chuckled the Western girl. "Huh! what'sthat?"
The sudden change in her voice made Ruth giggle nervously. "That'ssomebody riding ahead of us. _You're_ not afraid, Nita?"
"Well, I should say not!" cried the other, very boldly. "It's one of theboys. Hello, Darcy! I thought you were a ghost."
"You gals better git back to the camp," grunted the cowboy. "We're goingto have a shower later. I feel it in the air."
"We're neither sugar nor salt," declared Jane Ann. "We've both gotslickers on our saddles."
"Ridin' herd at night ain't no job for gals," said Darcy. "And thatcloud yander is goin' ter spit lightnin'."
"He's always got a grouch about something. I never did like old Darcy,"Jane Ann confided to her friend.
But there was a general movement and confusion in the herd before thegirls had ridden two miles. The cattle smelled the storm coming and, nowand then, a faint flash of lightning penciled the upper edge of thecloud that masked the Western horizon.
"'Tain't going to amount to anything," declared Jane Ann.
"It just looks like heat lightning," agreed Ruth.
"May not rain at all to-night," pursued the other girl, cheerfully.
"Who's that yelling?" queried Ruth, suddenly.
"Huh! that's somebody singing."
"Singing?"
"Yep."
"Way out here?"
"Yep. It's Fred English, I guess. And he's no Caruso."
"But what's he singing for?" demanded the disturbed Ruth, for the soundsthat floated to their ears were mournful to a degree.
"To keep the cattle quiet," explained the ranch girl. "Singing oftenkeeps the cows from milling----"
"Milling?" repeated Ruth.
"That's when they begin to get uneasy, and mill around and around in acircle. Cows are just as foolish as a flock of hens."
"But you don't mean to say the boys sing 'em to sleep?" laughed Ruth.
"Something like that. It often keeps 'em quiet. Lets 'em know there'shumans about."
"Why, I really thought he must be making that noise to keep himself fromfeeling lonely," chuckled Ruth.
"Nobody'd want to do that, you know," returned Jane Ann, withseriousness. "Especially when they can't sing no better than that FredEnglish."
"It is worse than a mourning dove," complained the girl from the East."Why doesn't he try something a bit livelier?"
"You don't want to whistle a jig-tune to keep cows quiet," Jane Annresponded, sagely.
The entire herd seemed astir now. There was a sultriness in the airquite unfamiliar on the range. The electricity still glowed along thehorizon; but it seemed so distant that the girls much doubted Darcy'sprophecy of rain.
The cattle continued to move about and crop the short herbage. Few ofthem remained "bedded down." In the distance another voice was raised insong. Ruth's mount suddenly jumped to one side, snorting. A huge blacksteer rose up and blew a startled blast through his nostrils.
"Gracious! I thought that was a monster rising out of the very earth!And so did Freckles, I guess," cried Ruth, with some nervousness. "Whoa,Freckles! Whoa, pretty!"
"You sing, too, Ruthie," advised her friend. "We don't want to startsome foolish steer to running."
The Eastern girl's sweet voice--clear and strong--rang out at once and thetwo girls rode on their way. The movement of the herd showed that mostof the cattle had got upon their feet; but there was no commotion.
As they rode around the great herd they occasionally passed a cowboyriding in the other direction, who hailed them usually with somewitticism. But if Ruth chanced to be singing, they broke off their ownrefrains and applauded the girl's effort.
Once a coyote began yapping on the hillside near at hand, as Ruth andJane Ann rode. The latter jerked out the shiny gun that swung at herbelt and fired twice in the direction of the brute's challenge.
"That'll scare _him_," she explained. "They're a nuisance at calvingtime."
Slowly, but steadily, the cloud crept up the sky and snuffed out thelight of the stars. The lightning, however, only played at intervals,with the thunder muttering hundreds of miles away, in the hills.
"It is going to rain, Nita," declared Ruth, with conviction.
"Well, let's put the rubber blankets over us, and be ready for it," saidthe ranch girl, cheerfully. "We don't want to go in now and have theboys laugh at us."
"Of course not," agreed Ruth.
Jane Ann showed her how to slip the slicker over her head. Its foldsfell all about her and, as she rode astride, she would be well shelteredfrom the rain if it began to fall. They were now some miles from thecamp on the river bank, but had not as yet rounded the extreme end ofthe herd. The grazing range of the cattle covered practically the entirevalley.
The stirring of the herd had grown apace and even in the thickerdarkness the girls realized that most of the beasts were in motion. Nowand then a cow lowed; steers snorted and clashed horns with neighboringbeeves. The restlessness of the beasts was entirely different from thosemotions of a grazing herd by day.
Something seemed about to happen. Nature, as well as the beasts, seemedto wait in expectation of some startling change. Ruth could not fail tobe strongly impressed by this inexplicable feeling.
"Something's going to happen, Nita. I feel it," she declared.
"Hark! what's that?" demanded her companion, whose ears were thesharper.
A mutter of sound in the distance made Ruth suggest: "Thunder?"
"No, no!" exclaimed Jane Ann.
Swiftly the sound approached. The patter of ponies' hoofs--a crowd ofhorses were evidently charging out of a nearby coulie into the openplain.
"Wild horses!" gasped Jane Ann.
But even as she spoke an eerie, soul-wracking chorus of shrieks brokethe oppressive stillness of the night. Such frightful yells Ruth hadnever heard before--nor could she, for the moment, believe that theyissued from the lips of human beings!
"Injuns!" ejaculated Jane Ann and swung her horse about, poising thequirt to strike. "Come on----"
Her words were drowned in a sudden crackle of electricity--seemingly overtheir very heads. They were blinded by the flash of lightning which,cleaving the cloud at the zenith, shot a zigzag stream of fire into themidst of the cattle!
Momentarily Ruth gained a view of the thousands of tossing horns. Achorus of bellowing rose from the frightened herd.
But Jane Ann recovered her self-confidence instantly. "It's nothing buta joke, Ruthie!" she cried, in her friend's ear. "That's some of theboys riding up and trying to frighten us. But there, that's no joke!"
Another bolt of lightning and deafening report followed. The cowboys'trick was a fiasco. There was serious trouble at hand.
"The herd is milling!" yelled Jane Ann. "Sing again, Ruthie! Ride closein to them and sing! We must keep them from stampeding if we can!" andshe spurred her own pony toward the bellowing, frightened steers.