CHAPTER IV

  A NOTE OF WARNING AT THE SPRING HOLE

  "Pull up, Bob; I sure glimpsed something moving, out there in the sagebrush!"

  Both horses came to an immediate stop as the bridles were drawn taut.

  "Which way, Frank?" asked the Kentucky lad, eagerly, as he threw backhis shock of black hair, and waited to see where the finger of hiscompanion would point.

  "Whatever it was disappeared behind that spur of the low foot hillsyonder. I just caught a peep of the last of it. Here, Bob, take theglasses, and wait to see if it shows up again on the other side of therise," and Frank thrust the binoculars into the hand of his chum.

  "Think it could have been a prowling coyote; or perhaps a bunch ofantelope feeding on the sweet grass around some spring hole, as youwere telling me they do?" asked Bob, holding himself in readiness.

  "Well," returned Frank, quickly, "the sun was in my eyes some, you see,and so I wouldn't like to be too sure; but somehow, Bob, I just have anotion that it was a horse."

  "With a rider on it, of course!" exclaimed the other lad, as he raisedthe glasses to his eyes, training them on the further end of the squatelevation that stood up in the midst of the sage level like a greathump on a camel.

  "There, looks like I was right, Bob!" ejaculated Frank, a minute or solater, as something came out from behind the low hill, moving steadilyonward.

  "Indians! as sure as anything!" fell from the lips of the one who heldthe field glasses to his eyes.

  "One--two--three--a heap of the reds in that bunch, I reckon," mutteredFrank, watching with his naked eye; although the distance, separatingthem from the spot where the figures were passing steadily into view,was considerable.

  "Say, these glasses are jim-dandy ones, all right!" remarked Bob,presently, as he turned to offer them to his chum, who immediatelyclapped them to his own eyes.

  "Huh!" grunted Frank a moment later, "squaws along; each cayusedragging poles on which they heap their lodges, blankets and such;reckon there's no war party about that, Bob."

  "I should think not, if what you've told me about the Indians is afact, Frank. But look here, what d'ye suppose they're doing so faraway from their reservation?" and Bob gripped his quirt, which hung, asusual, from his wrist, in cowboy fashion; and with a nervous slash cutoff the tops of the rattlesnake weed within reach.

  "That's where you've got me, Bob," replied the one who had been broughtup on a ranch, and who was supposed to know considerable about the lifeof the plains; "unless they've just got desperate for a good old hunt,and broke loose. Pretty soon the pony soldiers will come gallopingalong, round 'em up, and chase the lot back to their quarters. UncleSam is kind, and winks at a heap; but he won't stand for the Injunsskipping out just when the notion takes 'em."

  They sat there in their saddles a while longer, watching the longprocession pass out beyond the low hill, and track along the plainthrough the scented purple sage.

  "Navajos, ain't they?" asked Bob, who, of course, depended on hiscomrade for all such information, since one Indian was as much likeanother as two peas to him.

  "Sure thing," replied the other, carelessly. "Tell 'em as far as I canglimpse the beggars. And I just reckon now that's old Wolf Killerhimself, ridin' at the head of the line, with his gay blanket wrappedaround him. Wonder what he'd say if he knew Frank Haywood was here, sofar away from the home ranch?" and Frank chuckled as though amused.

  "Do you know the old chief, then?" asked Bob.

  "Say, do I?" replied Frank, with a laugh. "Remember me telling you howthe boys on our place caught a Navajo trying to run away with one ofour saddle herds about three years ago, when I was hardly more'n a kid?Well, I chased him with the rest of the outfit, and saw old Hank throwhis rope over his shoulders. He snaked the fellow over the ground andthrough the short buffalo grass like a coyote, 'till he was punishedenough; and then my dad made 'em let him go. But you just ought tohave seen the way he folded his arms, stared at each of us, and, neversaying a single word, walked away. I've often wondered if he didn'tmean to come back some day, and try to get his revenge."

  "And that was the chief himself?" asked Bob.

  "Just who it was," Frank went on. "He'd left the reservation, and gottoo much fire-water aboard, they said; so he thought the good old dayshad come back, when a Navajo always tried to get away with any horseshe ran across. They say Wolf Killer used to rustle cattle long ago,till Uncle Sam put his hand down heavy on his tribe, and shut the lotup."

  "Then, if he has reason to remember everybody connected with CircleRanch in that way, I reckon it's just as well we don't try to let himknow we're here," remarked Bob, uneasily. "We didn't come out on thislittle picnic for trouble with the reds. There they go, pushingthrough the sage brush, Frank. So-long, Navajo, and good luck to youon your hunt," waving a hand after the departing string of distantfigures.

  "Our way lies yonder, along the foot of the mountains," said Frank, ashe turned his head to look toward the grim range that stood out boldlyagainst the skyline.

  "Yes," observed his companion, as he allowed his black horse his head,once more advancing in a Southerly direction, "and, unless all signsfail, that's Thunder Mountain towering above the rest of the peaks."

  "You're right, Bob, that's what it is; and we're going to camp at itsfoot unless something goes wrong," and as he spoke Frank urged Buckskinon again.

  The yellow bronco was a true range pony. He had been taught many ofthe clever tricks for which his kind are noted. A stranger would havehad a hard time keeping his seat on the back of the animal, such washis dislike for unknown parties. He could dance almost as well as acircus horse; and when Frank had tended the saddle herd at night, ashorse-wrangler, he was accustomed to depend on Buckskin to give amplewarning of trouble, whether in the shape of a storm, a threatenedstampede, or the presence of cattle-rustlers.

  Both boys were, of course, dressed pretty much as cowboys are when onthe ranch; leather "chaps" covering their corduroy trousers; with bootsthat mounted spurs; flannel shirts; red handkerchiefs knotted aroundtheir necks; and with their heads topped by felt hats, such as the menof the range delight in.

  Slung to their saddles were a couple of up-to-date guns of therepeating type, which both lads knew how to use at least fairly well.Of course both carried lariats slung from the pommels of their highMexican saddles. Frank was accustomed to throwing a rope; while Bob,naturally, had much to learn in this particular.

  "Say," remarked the latter, who had fallen a trifle behind his comrade,"to see the way we're just loaded down with stuff makes me think ofmoving day in the old Kentucky mountains. But no use talking, if afellow wants to be half way comfortable, he's just got to lug all sortsof traps along."

  "That's right, Bob," assented the other, laughing. "And that appliesin an extra way when he means to be out in the Rockies for perhaps aweek."

  "No telling what he may run up against there, eh?" queried Bob.

  "Well, if it isn't a grizzly, it may be an avalanche, or acloud-burst," remarked the boy who had spent his whole life in the open.

  "Not to speak of Indians, or Mexican rustlers looking for a chance todrop down on some peaceful ranch, and carry off a bunch of long horns;eh, Frank?"

  "Sure; and a lot more besides, Bob," was the reply. "But the sun'sgetting kind of low, you notice."

  "In other words, we'd better be looking around for a place to camp,Frank?"

  "You've hit the nail on the head," the other replied. "Suppose we holdup here for a bit, and let me take another squint up yonder through theglass."

  "Meaning at old Thunder Mountain?" observed Bob, as his eye traveledupward toward the bare crown of the great uplift, that had so longremained a source of mystery to the entire community.

  "Yes. Just look at the pinons growing up the sides like tufts, alongwith the funny looking clumps of stunted cedars. Then you can see theaspens and silver spruce next. And over the whole outfit is a silencethat beats the desert itself. Whew! the closer you
examine the placethe more it impresses you."

  Bob accepted the glasses after Frank had used them and focussed them onthe slope.

  "So that's old Thunder Mountain, is it?" he remarked. "Well, I mustsay it shows up right well. I've tried to picture the place from allwe've heard."

  "But you don't feel disappointed, do you?" asked Frank.

  "Not a bit, Frank," his companion continued. "I've seen somemountains, even before I came out here to your Rockies; but there'ssomething about this thing that just staggers a fellow. Wow! but we'llsure have our troubles climbing that wild slope."

  "Never could make it if it wasn't for the canyons," Frank added. "Theyall tell me that. Here, let me put the field-glasses away. Half anhour's gallop, and we'll jump off. That ought to bring us to the footof the slope. Here you go, Buckskin; show us you're not tired afteryour day's run. Whoop-la!"

  Frank brought his hat down on the flank of the horse, accompanying theaction with a real cowboy yell. Instantly the spirited steed boundedoff, with Bob's Domino close behind, snorting, and giving signs ofastonishing animation.

  So they sped along, with clanking sounds from the various packagesfastened behind the saddles; but after a few minutes both boysgradually drew upon the lines, knowing full well that their mounts haddone a fair day's work already; and, besides, there was no possibleneed of haste.

  "How's this for a camping place?" asked Frank, as he suddenly broughtBuckskin upon his haunches in a quick stop.

  "Suits me first rate," replied his chum, after giving a glance around."Let's see if I remember all you told me about what a fellow has tolook for when he expects to go into camp. Water handy, grass for thehorses, wood for a fire, and shelter from a hidden mountain storm.What better could we ask, I'd like to know? Is it a go, Frank?"

  For answer the shorter lad jumped from his seat. His first act was toremove the saddle, and then, with a handful of dead grass, rub thesweaty back of the mettlesome animal, as every true son of the plainsalways does before he thinks of his own comfort.

  Next he hobbled the animal, and drove the stake pin, to which thelariat was attached, deeply into the ground. After that the bridlecame off; and Buckskin's first natural act was to drop to the ground,and roll over several times.

  Bob was following this procedure with Domino. The intelligent animalsseemed to understand just what the programme was to be; for afterrolling, they walked down to the little watercourse to slake theirthirst; and then set about eagerly nibbling the sweet grass that grewall around.

  The two chums went about preparing to spend a night under the brightstars, with a readiness that told of long practice. Bob, of course,knew less than his companion about such things, but Frank had oftenaccompanied the cowboys on his father's ranch on their expeditions, andhad even spent nights in the company of old Hank, when off on a huntfor fresh meat; so that he knew pretty well what ought to be done toadd to their comfort.

  It pleased him to show Bob some of the things he had learned. Theremight be no real reason why he should start a cooking fire in a hole hedug, rather than make a roaring blaze that could be seen a mile away;but Bob was tremendously interested, and would never forget all that helearned.

  "Besides," Frank explained, after he had the small fire started, "it iseasier for cooking, once you get a bed of red ashes; because in thiswarm country a fellow doesn't much like to get all heated up, standingover a big blaze."

  Bob had, meanwhile, opened some of the bundles. One of these containeda small coffee pot, as well as the frying pan without which campingwould be a failure in the minds of most Western boys.

  "Look out for rattlers," advised Frank, as his chum went to the springhole to fill the coffee pot. "They often come to such places in dryseason We haven't had rain for so long now, that, when it does come, Iexpect a regular cloud-burst. That's often the way in this queercountry, along the foothills of the Rockies."

  Hardly had he spoken than there sounded a sudden and angry whirr,similar to the noise made by a locust, and which Frank knew only toowell meant a rattlesnake!