CHAPTER VI

  THE HIDDEN TRAIL OF MENDOZA

  There was an immediate scattering of the ten cowboys. Every one waseager to be first to make a discovery. Jumping to the ground, theysearched the earth for traces that would indicate how the herd had notpassed into the quivering quicksands, but turned aside.

  No matter how cleverly the rustlers had concealed the marks of the manyhoofs, and left a few time-worn tracks to deceive, some of those keeneyes now on the search were bound to discover what they so eagerlysought.

  A quick call from one quarter soon announced that the expected signs hadbeen found. Riding that way Frank and Bob saw that the trailer Scottywas indicating his discovery to Bart Heminway and the stockman.

  They agreed with him that it pointed to the fact of the herd having beendriven that way. A little further on, and they saw fresh signs that hadescaped the scrutiny of the rustlers when they were busy concealing allmarks, as they believed, to indicate the passage of the lost herd.

  So it continued until finally they reached rocky ground, where therewould be less to conceal.

  “I can’t see how they do it,” declared Bob, as he watched the two men inthe lead running back and forth like a couple of dogs, their ponieshaving been taken in charge by some of their comrades.

  “Well,” chuckled Frank, “I happen to know that one of them, Scottythere, would be just as surprised to hear you read any book you happenedto pick up; because, you see, Scotty doesn’t know how to read. Theground is like a printed page to him. He sees scores of little signs youwould never notice. And they tell him things, just as the letters,placed in combinations, tell you a certain word is meant.”

  “But Frank, look over yonder,” said Bob, pointing ahead.

  “Yes, I see it, all right,” replied the other, with a nod and a laugh.

  “Our old friend, Thunder Mountain, isn’t it?” demanded Bob.

  “That’s right,” replied the other. “The same place where we had ourlittle bunch of adventures with a grizzly, a cloudburst, and a few otherthings; not to forget a certain fellow named Peg Grant, who tried toplay the game ahead of us, but fell down.”

  “And, Frank, you notice, I reckon, that we seem to be heading right inthe direction of that big arroyo that leads up the side of themountain?” Bob went on.

  “That doesn’t surprise me one little bit, Bob,” his chum remarked. “Youremember we figured all that out. Fact is, things begin to look mightygood to me; and I reckon we’re closer to finding that secret corral ofPedro Mendoza right at this very minute than anybody has ever beenbefore.”

  “It’s noon now; and there’s your father holding up his hand,” Bobremarked.

  “Which means he wants a halt called, while we take a cold snack, andtalk matters over,” Frank observed. “You know, my dad is noted for beingcool, and going slow about things. I’ve seen lots of others lose theirheads; but he was nearer to being excited last night than I ever sawhim. Chances are, we may lie low here half the afternoon, because he’drather climb that canyon after nightfall.”

  Frank’s prophecy proved a true one, for as they ate and talked, thestockman proceeded to explain his plan, which was really to remain quietwhere they were, under the shade of a clump of willows, until theafternoon was well spent. Then the ride could be resumed, though no onedoubted now where it would lead them, with that canyon mouth so near athand.

  Several hours passed. They were almost endless to impatient Bob, whosuffered very much because of his nervousness, and a desire to bemoving. But finally Colonel Haywood seemed to be satisfied that theobject of the delay had been accomplished, whatever that might be; andhe gave the word for which the cow punchers had been so eagerly waiting.

  Again they were on the move. Just as Frank had said, the trail led theminto the great arroyo, that looked like a cleft in the mountainfrom a little distance.

  Sometimes this pass was used by stockmen on one side of the range as ameans of getting a herd over to the other side. Hence it was not strangeto find plain traces of cattle having been driven along here. And therustlers depended on this very knowledge to allow of a slackening oftheir labors in trying to wipe out all tell-tale marks.

  Once in the gap, and the sun was no longer to be seen. Indeed, it lookeddim between those high walls, and one could almost believe evening mustbe near at hand.

  “And to think, Frank,” said Bob, “that when we were here before wethought these cliffs were the real thing. We know better now, don’t we?We’ve been in the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. And, Frank, you couldput that wall yonder against one of the colored ones up there, and itwould look like an ant hill. Am I right?”

  “I reckon you are, Bob,” replied the other. “But that hasn’t anything todo with our finding the lost cattle. Let’s think of that now. WatchScotty up ahead there. He’s going some, I tell you. A hound couldn’tfollow tracks much better.”

  “He’s a wonder, that’s what,” declared Bob.

  “And I suppose you’re picking up heaps of information right along, eh?”Frank asked, with an amused smile.

  “To be sure I am; but there seems to be no end to the game,” repliedBob. “I’m just loaded up to my neck with questions I want to ask Scottywhen I get a chance. He must tell me why he did this thing and that.”

  “And this is only the beginning, you’ll find,” observed Frank. “Thereare a lot more coming along soon that you don’t want to miss, Bob.”

  They kept along for another half hour, continually ascending the rockypass. To Bob there was an added interest in their surroundings becauseof the adventures that had come to Frank and himself during theirearlier visit to Thunder Mountain, as recorded in the first volume ofthis series.

  “Look, Frank!” he exclaimed, calling the attention of his companion to acertain place, high up on one of the walls, “wasn’t that where we had toclimb to get away from the flood that rushed through this pass when thecloudburst came?”

  “Yes,” replied the other, “I can see the very ledge we stood on,wondering if we would be carried away, or not. That was a narrow squeak,Bob, for us.”

  “I believe you, Frank; but we pulled through, all right. More than oncesince then, when things have looked ticklish, I think of that time, andmake up my mind the sky isn’t so dark as it looks. But it sure isgetting near night down in this hole!”

  “Are you watching Scotty, Bob?” demanded Frank.

  “I saw him turn aside just then,” replied the other. “Looked like he wasinterested a little in that narrow crack in the wall; but I see he’spassed on, and is waving to the bunch to come after him; so I reckonthere wasn’t anything doing there.”

  “Huh! don’t be too sure of that,” said Frank.

  “Why, what do you mean?” demanded his chum, eagerly.

  “Because I saw Scotty give my dad a quick sign that stood forsomething,” Frank went on to say.

  “About that little hole in the wall, you mean?” asked Bob.

  “It was while he was down on his hands and knees there that he made it,so I’ve got a hunch it was about that same hole. But don’t seem to payany particular attention as we ride past.”

  “Then you think there might be somebody watching us; is that it?” askedBob.

  “Why not, if these rustlers are half as smart as they say, don’t youthink they would be apt to have a vidette posted on the side of themountain?” and Frank declined to turn his head in the slightest as theyrode past the cleft, that hardly seemed wide enough for a fat steer topass into.

  They rode slowly along up the canyon, picking their way carefully aroundsuch obstructions as came in the path.

  “Have you been looking to see if there are as many signs up here asbelow?” Bob asked of his chum, as he noticed Frank watching the groundby bending over in his saddle.

  “I don’t seem to get on to them, if they are,” replied the other. “Butthen, we’d better hold in our horses a little, and hear what Scotty hasto say. Pretty soon he’ll call a halt, and then we’ll know.”
r />   But they continued on until it became so dark in the canyon that theponies frequently stumbled. Scotty had fallen back, and was ridingalongside the stockman now, with whom he seemed to be conversingeagerly, as though he had news worth while to communicate.

  Then Colonel Haywood threw up his hand. It was a signal to halt,recognized by every one in the party. Pressing in a little circle aroundthe leaders, they waited to hear how things were working.

  “We leave the ponies up here, boys,” said the stockman, “and go back onfoot. Do you remember noticing that little split in the left side of thearroyo, where Scotty halted a few seconds? Well, the herd wasdriven through that, one at a time. It’s the secret passage no one hasever been able to find, up to now.”

  All sorts of low exclamations told how eagerly the cow punchers receivedthe welcome news that the long hidden trail had been found.

  “How do you suppose Scotty ever made that out?” asked Bob, unable tohold his curiosity in check. “Frank, do you reckon he found the tracksof the cattle on the stones, where the rustlers failed to make ’em out?”

  “Well, there might be lots of ways of knowing that,” replied the otherboy. “And to tell you the truth, Bob, I saw Scotty taking a quick lookat the sharp edges of the rock just where the crack starts. Now, itwouldn’t surprise, me much if he discovered some bunches of hairfastened there, where it was rubbed off the flank of a steer that didn’tquite take the middle of the road while passing in.”

  “I never thought of that,” Bob said, in a low tone. “That’s another pagemade clear. Oh! but all this is mighty interesting to me, I tell you,Frank. I only wish I could write shorthand, and I’d have it all down inblack and white.”

  “Huh! better have it written in your memory, where it can never berubbed out,” remarked Frank, dismounting, as all the others were doing.