CHAPTER XIX
As the night air vibrated with the first explosion Casey Dunne andMcHale leaped from their beds, and rushed for the door, opened it, andstood listening. There they heard another and another.
"Dynamite!" cried McHale, reaching for his clothes. "I'll bet it's ourdam. Jump into some pants, Casey. There's just a chance to get a sightof somebody."
They threw on clothes with furious haste, caught up weapons, and racedfor the stables. Their haste communicated itself to their horses, whichbolted before the riders were firm in the saddles. Casey, as they torepast the house, thought he caught a glimpse of white at Clyde's window;but just then he had his hands full with Shiner, who was expressing hisdisapproval of such unseemly hours by an endeavour to accomplish ablind runaway.
Halfway to the river they came upon the first evidence of dynamite inthe form of a bit of wrecked fluming. Water poured down a sidehill froma mass of shattered boards and broken, displaced timbers. They scarcelypaused to view the ruin, but rode for the dam. There was no dam. Whereit had been, remained only a few forlorn and twisted posts betweenwhich the muddied water whispered softly. The work had been verycomplete. McHale swore into the night.
"Our own medicine! Well, watch us take it. We ain't like boys thatcan't build a little thing like a dam. Which way do you reckon themfellers went?"
"Try the old ford," said Casey. "It's all chance, anyway."
A mile downstream they came to the ford, where the river for a briefdistance had broadened and shallowed. Fresh tracks of one horse leddown to the water's edge. On the other side, where they emerged, theywere still filled with muddy water.
"That's the cuss that blowed the flume," said McHale. "He's met up withanother one or two here. They've gone on downstream, but we sure can'ttrail them in this light. What do we do?"
"Ride ahead and trust to luck," said Casey. "It's all we can do."
"I guess that's so," McHale agreed. "But if we run up on 'em----"
He paused abruptly. Out of the distance came the unmistakable sound ofa blast, closely followed by a second.
"Another dam!" Casey exclaimed. "That's Oscar's, or Wyndham's. Our ownmedicine, sure enough!"
"If I can put a gunsight on to one of them fellers I'll fix him so's hewon't hold medicine nohow," said McHale savagely. "No use followin' theriver. They'll quit it now, and strike for somewheres. Let's take achance and hike out sorter southeast. It's as good as any other way."
They struck southeast at a steady jog, angling away from the river. Thenight was absolutely cloudless; the moon, near the full, bathed thelandscape in a flood of white light which threw objects into startlingrelief, but intensified the shadows. Beneath it the land slumbered in asilence broken only by the soft drumming of hoofs. But for anoccasional small band of cattle lying quietly on the slopes, it seemeddevoid of life.
They rode in silence, but with eyes and ears keenly alert. At the topof each rise they paused to search the surrounding country. Now andthen they drew up to listen. But their watchfulness availed nothing.
"Looks like we're out o'luck," McHale observed finally.
"Looks that way," Casey admitted. "All the same, we'll keep going."
"If we happen across 'em," McHale continued, "I s'pose we round 'emup?"
"Of course. But they may take some rounding."
"Sure! Only I'll tell you, Casey, I'm awful tired of having it put allover me by fellers that ain't got no license to. Some of these gentsthat allow they're hard citizens ain't so dog-goned much. I s'pose theyfigure on us peaceable farmers bein' bluffed out by a hard face and ahostile talk. That's an awful bad bet for 'em to make."
They were approaching a region of broken ground, carved and ridged withcoulees and low hills, worthless save for range purposes. There Caseydecided that he would turn back. At best it was like looking for theproverbial needle in a haystack. Chance only could serve them. SuddenlyMcHale checked his horse.
"Listen!" he said sharply.
They were riding by the base of a low hill. At one side the groundsloped away in a shallow depression which marked the head of a coulee.As they sat listening intently the stillness was broken by a hollow,muffled sound, the unmistakable trampling of hoofs. Faint at first, itincreased in volume. Plainly, horses were coming up the draw.
Four horsemen came into view. They were riding carelessly, slouching intheir saddles. One struck a match to light a pipe. The flame of itshowed for an instant above his cupped hands. At a hundred yards theyperceived the waiting horsemen, and halted abruptly.
"You there!" Casey hailed. "We want to talk to you!"
A vicious oath came as answer, distinct in the stillness. Then: "Youget back and mind your own business!"
McHale's rifle action clicked and clashed as he levered a cartridgefrom magazine to chamber. "Up with your hands, the bunch of you," heordered, "or----"
SO QUICK WAS HIS PIVOTING MOTION THAT CASEY WAS ALMOSTUNSEATED]
The remainder was lost in the bark of a gun as one of the other partyfired. McHale's horse jumped as though stung, just as he pulled thetrigger, bumping into Shiner. Immediately that uncertain quadrupedwheeled and kicked at him. So quick was his pivoting motion that Caseywas almost unseated. He saved himself, but lost his rifle, which fellto the ground. With a furious curse and a jerk of the bit he wheeledShiner around, drawing his automatic belt gun.
But the four strangers had taken advantage of the incident to turn andplunge back into the coulee. They were almost out of sight. Casey's gunspat a continuous jet of flame across the night, the rapid reportsblending into a roll of sound. McHale, cursing his unsteady horse,fired again and again. But the strangers, apparently unhurt, swept outof sight.
Casey leaped to the ground, secured his rifle, and was back in thesaddle again in an instant. They sailed into the shallow head of thecoulee at a dead run, Casey struggling to refill the clip of hisautomatic, McHale cursing his horse and himself because he had used therifle instead of his six-shooter.
At its head the coulee was merely a slight depression. Farther on itbroadened and deepened. Down the middle of its length ran a sinuousgrove of cottonwoods. On either side its flanks were bare, white withclay and alkali, rising to steep banks of yellow earth, bald andbleached in the moonlight.
Through this natural theatre thundered pursuers and pursued. The latterhad secured a good lead. The windings of the coulee hid them from view.
Suddenly Casey became aware that there was no one ahead--that he andMcHale were riding madly, to no purpose. At the same moment the lattermade the like discovery. Their horses' hoofs slid and cut grooves inthe earth as the riders dragged them to a halt. Usually considerate, inthe excitement of the moment they used the brutal methods of the"buster."
"They've doubled back on us!" cried McHale. "Cut through themcottonwoods somewheres and let us go by a-hellin'. Fooled us, by glory,like we was a pair of hide-an'-go-seek kids. Yes--there they go now!Look up by the top past that cut bank!" He lifted his rifle as hespoke.
High up at the coulee's rim, some hundreds of yards away, figuresmoved. At that distance, even in the brilliant moonlight, details werelost. The eye could discern black spots merely; but it seemed that themen had dismounted for the ascent, and were helping the horses toscramble upward.
McHale fired, shoved down the lever, drew it home, and fired again.Since the light did not serve to show the dust puffs of the bullets, hecould not tell whether he was shooting high or low. The main thing wasthat he did not hit. Casey chimed in. The bluffs and banks echoed tothe reports of the high-powered rifles; but the figures gained the rimand vanished. Immediately afterward a tongue of flame leaped from thespot where they were last seen, and a bullet sang in close proximity toCasey's head. They wheeled into the shelter of the trees, where theshadows effectually concealed their whereabout. At short intervalsbullets searched for their position. McHale bit large consolation andspat in disgust.
"I reckon it's a get-away," he said. "I ain't fool enough to go up thatbank while they're there.
And by the time we'd get around they'd be acouple of miles 'most anywheres."
"We've got ourselves to blame," said Casey.
"Well, that first shot burned up this cayuse of mine," McHale grumbled."How could I shoot, with him jumpin' around? And that blasted,yeller-hided buzzard head of yours, he don't know no better'n to whaleinto him with both heels. It wouldn't happen again, not in a millionyears."
"It doesn't need to," said Casey sourly. "We found our meat, and wecouldn't stop it."
"The laugh is on us," McHale admitted. "For the powder we burned wesure ought to have a scalp or two to show. Still, moonlight shootin' ischance shootin', and when a cussed mean cayuse is sashayin' round if aman hits anything but scenery he's lucky!"
"I thought that old-timer, Dade, was doing the talking."
"Sure he was. And I'll bet it was his _tillikum_, Cross, that took thefirst crack at us. Didn't waste no time. He's some soon, that feller. Is'pose they got a camp, somewheres. No use tryin' to find it. We can'tprove that they used the powder on our dams. Well, what say if we pointout for home? Daylight's breakin' now."
A pale light was spreading in the east, underneath the stars thatrimmed the horizon. Objects became more visible. As they rodeunmolested from the coulee the pale light began to flush faintly. Rosyshafts shot upward, and the stars vanished. Here and there birds beganto twitter. An old grouse scuttled away, wings a-trail, as if mortallyhurt, to distract attention from her young brood hidden in the shortgrass. A huge owl sailed ghostlike on silent wings, homeward bound frommidnight foray. A coyote yipped shrill protest against the day. Away tothe west, where the mountains loomed grandly, bright lights lay onpeaks still white with the remnants of winter snows. Suddenly, drivingthe shadows before it, the sun seemed to leap above the rim of theworld.