The Texan Read online

  CHAPTER XVII

  IN THE BAD LANDS

  It was well toward noon on the following day when the four finallysucceeded in locating the grub cache of the departed horse-thief. Nearlytwo years had passed since the man had described the place to Tex and atwo-year-old description of a certain small, carefully concealed cavernin a rock-wall pitted with innumerable similar caverns is a mightyslender peg to hang hopes upon.

  "It's like searching for buried treasure!" exclaimed Alice as she priedand prodded among the rocks with a stout stick.

  "There won't be much treasure, even if we find the _cache_," smiled Tex."Horse thievin' had got onpopular to the extent there wasn't hardly alivin' in it long before this specimen took it up as a profession. We'llbe lucky if we find any grub in it."

  A few moments later Bat unearthed the _cache_ and, as the others crowdedabout, began to draw out its contents.

  "Field mice," growled Tex, as the half-breed held up an empty canvas bagwith its corner gnawed to shreds. Another gnawed bag followed, andanother.

  "We don't draw no flour, nor rice, not jerky, anyhow," said the puncher,examining the bags. "Nor bacon, either. The only chance we stand tomake a haul is on the air-tights."

  "What are air-tights?" asked the girl.

  "Canned stuff--tomatoes are the best for this kind of weather--keep youfrom gettin' thirsty. I've be'n in this country long enough to prettymuch know its habits, but I never saw it this hot in June."

  "She feel lak' dat dam' Yuma bench, but here is only de rattlesnake. Wedon' got to all de tam hont de pizen boog. Dat ain' no good for git sodam' hot--she burn' oop de range. If it ain' so mooch danger for Win togit hang--" He paused and looked at Tex with owlish solemnity. "A'm nolak we cross dem bad lands. Better A'm lak we gon' back t'rough demountaine."

  "You dig out them air-tights, if there's any in there, an' quit yourcroakin'!" ordered the cowboy.

  And with a grin Bat thrust in his arm to the shoulder. One by one hedrew out the tins--eight in all, and laid them in a row. The labels haddisappeared and the Texan stood looking down at them.

  "Anyway we have these," smiled the girl, but the cowboy shook his head.

  "Those big ones are tomatoes, an' the others are corn, an' peas--but, itdon't make any difference." He pointed to the cans in disgust: "Seethose ends bulged out that way? If we'd eat any of the stuff in thosecans we'd curl up an' die, _pronto_. Roll 'em back, Bat, we got grubenough without 'em. Two days will put us through the bad lands an' we'vegot plenty. We'll start when the moon comes up."

  All four spent the afternoon in the meagre shade of the bull pine,seeking some amelioration from the awful scorching heat. But it wasscant protection they got, and no comfort. The merciless rays of the sunbeat down upon the little plateau, heating the rocks to a degree thatrendered them intolerable to the touch. No breath of air stirred. Thehorses ceased to graze and stood in the scrub with lowered heads andwide-spread legs, sweating.

  Towards evening a breeze sprang up from the southeast, but it was abreeze that brought with it no atom of comfort. It blew hot and stiflinglike the scorching blast of some mighty furnace. For an hour after thesun went down in a glow of red the super-heated rocks continued to giveoff their heat and the wind swept, sirocco-like, over the little camp.Before the after-glow had faded from the sky the wind died and adelicious coolness pervaded the plateau.

  "It hardly seems possible," said Alice, as she breathed deeply of thevivifying air, "that in this very spot only a few hours ago we weregasping for breath.

  "You can always bank on the nights bein' cold," answered Tex, as heproceeded to build the fire. "We'll rustle around and get supper out ofthe way an' the outfit packed an' we can pull our freight as soon as it'slight enough. The moon ought to show up by half-past ten or eleven, an'we can make the split rock water-hole before it gets too hot for thehorses to travel. It's the hottest spell for June I ever saw and if shedon't let up tomorrow the range will be burnt to a frazzle."

  Bat cast a weather-wise eye toward the sky which, cloudless, neverthelessseemed filmed with a peculiar haze that obscured the million lesser starsand distorted the greater ones, so that they showed sullen and angry anddull like the malignant pustules of a diseased skin.

  "A'm t'ink she gon' for bus' loose pret' queek."

  "Another thunder storm and a deluge of rain?" asked Alice.

  The half-breed shrugged: "I ain' know mooch 'bout dat. I ain' t'ink shefeel lak de rain. She ain' feel good."

  "Leave off croakin', Bat, an' get to work an' pack," growled the Texan."There'll be plenty time to gloom about the weather when it gets here."An hour later the outfit was ready for the trail.

  "Wish we had one of them African water-bags," said the cowboy, as hefilled his flask at the spring. "But I guess this will do 'til we strikethe water-hole."

  "Where is that whiskey bottle?" asked Endicott. "We could take a chanceon snake-bite, dump out the booze, and use the bottle for water."

  The Texan shook his head: "I had bad luck with that bottle; it knockedagainst a rock an' got busted. So we've got to lump the snake-bite withthe thirst, an' take a chance on both of 'em."

  "How far is the water-hole?" Alice asked, as she eyed the flask that thecowboy was making fast in his slicker.

  "About forty miles, I reckon. We've got this, and three cans oftomatoes, but we want to go easy on 'em, because there's a good rideahead of us after we hit Split Rock, an' that's the only water, exceptpoison springs, between here an' the old Miszoo."

  Bat, who had come up with the horses, pointed gloomily at the moon whichhad just topped the shoulder of a mountain. "She all squash down. Datain' no good she look so red." The others followed his gaze, and for amoment all stared at the distorted crimson oblong that hung low above themountains. A peculiar dull luminosity radiated from the misshapen orband bathed the bad lands in a flood of weird murky light.

  "Come on," cried Tex, swinging into his saddle, "we'll hit the trailbefore this old Python here finds something else to forebode about. Forall I care the moon can turn green, an' grow a hump like a camel just soshe gives us light enough to see by." He led the way across the littleplateau and the others followed. With eyes tight-shut and hands grippingthe saddle-horn, Alice gave her horse full rein as he followed theTexan's down the narrow sloping ledge that answered for a trail. Nor didshe open her eyes until the reassuring voice of the cowboy told her thedanger was past.

  Tex led the way around the base of the butte and down into the coulee hehad followed the previous day. "We've got to take it easy this trip," heexplained. "There ain't any too much light an' we can't take any chanceson holes an' loose rocks. It'll be rough goin' all the way, but a goodfast walk ought to put us half way, by daylight, an' then we can hit herup a little better." The moon swung higher and the light increasedsomewhat, but at best it was poor enough, serving only to bring out thegeneral outlines of the trail and the bolder contour of the coulee's rim.No breath of the wind stirred the air that was cold, with a dank, clammycoldness--like the dead air of a cistern. As she rode, the girl noticedthe absence of its buoyant tang. The horses' hoofs rang hollow and thinon the hard rock of the coulee bed, and even the frenzied yapping of apack of coyotes, sounded uncanny and far away. Between these sounds thestillness seemed oppressive--charged with a nameless feeling ofunwholesome portent. "It is the evil spell of the bad lands," thoughtthe girl, and shuddered.

  Dawn broke with the moon still high above the western skyline. The sidesof the coulee had flattened and they traversed a country of low-lyingridges and undulating rock-basins. As the yellow rim of the sun showedabove the crest of a far-off ridge, their ears caught the muffled roar ofwind. From the elevation of a low hill the four gazed toward the westwhere a low-hung dust-cloud, lowering, ominous, mounted higher and higheras the roar of the wind increased. The air about them remainedmotionless--dead. Suddenly it trembled, swirled, and rushed forward tomeet the oncoming dust-cloud as though drawn toward it by the s
uck of amighty vortex.

  "Dat better we gon' for hont de hole. Dat dust sto'm she raise hell."

  "Hole up, nothin'!" cried the Texan; "How are we goin' to hole up--fourof us an' five horses, on a pint of water an' three cans of tomatoes?When that storm hits it's goin' to be hot. We've just naturally got tomake that water-hole! Come on, ride like the devil before she hits,because we're goin' to slack up considerable, directly."

  The cowboy led the way and the others followed, urging their horses attop speed. The air was still cool, and as she rode, Alice glanced overher shoulder toward the dust cloud, nearer now, by many miles. The roarof the wind increased in volume. "It's like the roar of the falls atNiagara," she thought, and spurred her horse close beside the Texan's.

  "Only seventeen or eighteen miles," she heard him say, as her horse drewabreast. "The wind's almost at our back, an' that'll help some." Hejerked the silk scarf from his neck and extended it toward her. "Coveryour mouth an' nose with that when she hits. An' keep your eyes shut.We'll make it all right, but it's goin' to be tough." A mile further onthe storm burst with the fury of a hurricane. The wind roared down uponthem like a blast from hell. Daylight blotted out, and where a momentbefore the sun had hung like a burnished brazen shield, was only a dimlightening of the impenetrable fog of grey-black dust. The girl openedher eyes and instantly they seemed filled with a thousand needles thatbit and seared and caused hot stinging tears to well between thetight-closed lids. She gasped for breath and her lips and tongue wentdry. Sand gritted against her teeth as she closed them, and she tried invain to spit the dust from her mouth. She was aware that someone wastying the scarf about her head, and close against her ear she heard thevoice of the Texan: "Breathe through your nose as long as you can an'then through your teeth. Hang onto your saddle-horn, I've got yourreins. An' whatever you do, keep your eyes shut, this sand will cut 'emout if you don't." She turned her face for an instant toward the west,and the sand particles drove against her exposed forehead and eyelidswith a force that caused the stinging tears to flow afresh. Then shefelt her horse move slowly, jerkily at first, then more easily as theTexan swung him in beside his own.

  "We're all right now," he shouted at the top of his lungs to make himselfheard above the roar of the wind. And then it seemed to the girl theyrode on and on for hours without a spoken word. She came to tell by theforce of the wind whether they travelled along ridges, or wide lowbasins, or narrow coulees. Her lips dried and cracked, and the fine dustand sand particles were driven beneath her clothing until her skinsmarted and chafed under their gritty torture. Suddenly the wind seemedto die down and the horses stopped. She heard the Texan swing to theground at her side, and she tried to open her eyes but they were gluedfast. She endeavoured to speak and found the effort a torture because ofthe thick crusting of alkali dust and sand that tore at her broken lips.The scarf was loosened and allowed to fall about her neck. She couldhear the others dismounting and the loud sounds with which the horsesstrove to rid their nostrils of the crusted grime.

  "Just a minute, now, an' you can open your eyes," the Texan's words fellwith a dry rasp of his tongue upon his caked lips. She heard a slightsplashing sound and the next moment the grateful feel of water was uponher burning eyelids, as the Texan sponged at them with a saturated bit ofcloth.

  "The water-hole!" she managed to gasp.

  "There's water here," answered the cowboy, evasively, "hold still, an' ina minute you can open your eyes." Very gently he continued to sponge ather lids. Her eyes opened and she started back with a sharp cry. Thethree men before her were unrecognizable in the thick masks of dirt thatencased their faces--masks that showed only thin red slits for eyes, andthick, blood-caked excrescences where lips should have been.

  "Water!" Endicott cried, and Alice was sure she heard the dry click ofhis tongue against the roof of his mouth. The girl saw that they were ina cavern formed by a mud crack whose walls had toppled together. Almostat her feet was a small pool, its surface covered with a film of dust.Endicott stepped toward it, but the Texan barred the way.

  "Don't drink that! It might be a poison spring--most of 'em are downhere. It's the meanest death there is, the bellyache an' cramps thatcomes from drinkin' poison water. Watch the horses. If they will drinkit, we can. He led his horse to the pool into which the animal thrusthis nose half way to the eyes. Only a moment he held it there, then witha thrash of disappointment that sent the water splashing over thedust-coated rocks, he raised his head and stood with the water drippingin streams from his muzzle. He pawed at the ground, shook his headwrathfully, and turned in disgust from the water-hole.

  "Poison," announced the Texan. "We can rinse out our mouths with it an'clean out our eyes an' wash our faces, an' do the same for the horses,but we can't swallow not even a drop of it, or us an' the angels will beswappin' experiences about this time tomorrow." He turned to Alice:"Ladies first. Just take your handkerchief an' wet it an' swab out yourmouth an' when you're through there's a good drink of real water waitin'for you in the flask."

  When she had done, the three men followed her example, and the Texantendered the bottle:

  "Take all you need, there's plenty," he said. But she would take only aswallow which she held in her mouth and allowed to trickle down herthroat. Endicott did the same and Bat, whereupon the cowboy replaced thecork to the bottle and was about to return it to his slicker when thegirl caught his arm.

  "You didn't drink any!" she cried, but he overrode her protest.

  "I ain't thirsty," he said almost gruffly. "You better catch you alittle rest, because as soon as we get these horses fixed up, we're goin'to pull out of here." The girl assayed a protest, but Tex turnedabruptly away and the three fell to work removing the caked dust from theeyes and nostrils of the horses, and rinsing out their mouths. When theyfinished, Tex turned to Bat.

  "How far d'you reckon it is to the water-hole?" he asked.

  The half-breed shrugged: "Mebbe-so fi' mile, mebbe-so ten. I ain' knowdis place. A'm t'ink we los'."

  "Lost!" snorted the Texan, contemptuously. "You're a hell of an Injun,you are, to get lost in broad daylight in sight of the Bear Paws. Iain't lost, if you are, an' I tell you we camp at that water-holetonight!"

  Again the half-breed shrugged: "I ain' see no mountaine. I ain' see nomooch daylight, neider. Too mooch de dam' dus'--too mooch san'--toomooch de win' blow. If we com' by de water-hole, A'm t'ink dat dam'lucky t'ing."

  Tex regarded him with disapproval: "Climb onto your horse, old CalamityJane, an' we'll mosey along. A dry camp is better than this--at leastnobody can crawl around in their sleep an' drink a snifter of poison." Hehelped Alice from the ground where she sat propped against a rock andassisted her to mount, being careful to adjust the scarf over her noseand mouth.

  As the horses with lowered heads bored through the dust-storm the Texancursed himself unmercifully. "This is all your fault, you damnedfour-flusher! You would run a girl--that girl, into a hole like this,would you? You low-lived skunk, you! You think you're fit to marry her,do you? Well, you ain't! You ain't fit to be mentioned in the samelanguage she is! You'll get 'em all out of here or, by God, you'll neverget out yourself--an' I'm right here to see that that goes! An' you'llfind that water-hole, too! An' after you've found it, an' got 'em allout of this jack-pot, you'll h'ist up on your hind legs an' tell 'em thewhole damn facts in the case, an' if Win jumps in an' just naturally mopsup hell with you, it'll be just what you've got comin' to you--if he doesa good job, it will." Mile after mile the horses drifted before thewind, heads hung low and ears drooping. In vain the Texan tried topierce the impenetrable pall of flying dust for a glimpse of a familiarlandmark. "We ought to be hittin' that long black ridge, or the sodahill by now," he muttered. "If we miss 'em both--God!"

  The half-breed pushed his horse close beside him: "We mus' got to camp,"he announced with his lips to the Texan's ear. "De hosses beginnin' toshake."

  "How far can they go?"
r />   "Camp now. Beside de cut-bank here. Dem hoss she got for res' queek or,ba Goss, she die."

  Tex felt his own horse tremble and he knew the half-breed's words weretrue. With an oath he swung into the sheltered angle of the cut-bankalong which they were travelling. Bat jerked the pack from thelead-horse and produced clothing and blankets, dripping wet from thesaturation he had given them in the poison spring. While the othersrepeated the process of the previous camp, Bat worked over the horseswhich stood in a dejected row with their noses to the base of thecut-bank.

  "We'll save the water an' make tomatoes do," announced the Texan, as withhis knife he cut a hole in the top of a can. "This storm is bound to letup pretty quick an' then we'll hit for the waterhole. It can't be farfrom here. We'll tap two cans an' save one an' the water--the flask'shalf full yet."

  Never in her life, thought Alice, as she and Endicott shared their can oftomatoes, had she tasted anything half so good. The rich red pulp andthe acid juice, if it did not exactly quench the burning thirst, at leastmade it bearable, and in a few minutes she fell asleep protected from theall pervading dust by one of the wet blankets. The storm roared on. Atthe end of a couple of hours Bat rose and silently saddled his horse."A'm gon' for fin' dat water-hole," he said, when the task was completed."If de sto'm stop, a'right. If it don' stop, you gon' on in de mornin'."He placed one of the empty tomato cans in his slicker, and as he wasabout to mount both Endicott and Tex shook his hand.

  "Good luck to you, Bat," said Endicott, with forced cheerfulness. TheTexan said never a word, but after a long look into the half-breed'seyes, turned his head swiftly away.

  Both Tex and Endicott slept fitfully, throwing the blankets from theirheads at frequent intervals to note the progress of the storm. Onceduring the night the Texan visited the horses. The three saddle animalsstood hobbled with their heads close to the cut-bank, but the pack-horsewas gone. "Maybe you'll find it," he muttered, "but the best bet is, youwon't. I gave my horse his head for an hour before we camped, an' hecouldn't find it." Tex sat up after that, with his back to the wall ofthe coulee. With the first hint of dawn Endicott joined him. The windroared with unabated fury as he crawled to the cowboy's side. He held upthe half-filled water flask and the Texan regarded him with red-rimmedeyes.

  "This water," asked the man, "it's for her, isn't it?" Tex nodded.Without a word Endicott crawled to the side of the sleeping girl andgently drew the blanket from her face. He carefully removed the corkfrom the bottle and holding it close above the parched lips allowed a fewdrops of the warm fluid to trickle between them. The lips moved and thesleeping girl swallowed the water greedily. With infinite pains the mancontinued the operation doling the precious water out a little at a timeso as not to waken her. At last the bottle was empty, and, replacing theblanket, he returned to the Texan's side. "She wouldn't have taken it ifshe had known," he whispered. "She would have made us drink some."

  Tex nodded, with his eyes on the other's face.

  "An' you're nothin' but a damned pilgrim!" he breathed, softly. Minutespassed as the two men sat silently side by side. The Texan spoke, as ifto himself: "It's a hell of a way to die--for her."

  "We'll get through somehow," Endicott said, hopefully.

  Tex did not reply, but sat with his eyes fixed on the horses. Presentlyhe got up, walked over and examined each one carefully. "Only two of 'emwill travel, Win. Yours is all in." He saddled the girl's horse and hisown, leaving them still hobbled. Then he walked over and picked up theempty tomato can and the bottle. "You've got to drink," he said, "oryou'll die--me, too. An' maybe that water ain't enough for her, either."He drew a knife from his pocket and walked to Endicott's horse.

  "What are you going to do?" cried the other, his eyes wide with horror.

  "It's blood, or nothin'," answered the Texan, as he passed his hand alongthe horse's throat searching for the artery.

  Endicott nodded: "I suppose you're right, but it seems--cold blooded."

  "I'd shoot him first, but there's no use wakin' her. We can tell her thehorse died." There was a swift twisting of the cowboy's wrist, the horsereared sharply back, and Endicott turned away with a sickening feeling ofweakness. The voice of the Texan roused him: "Hand me the bottle and thecan quick!" As he sprang to obey, Endicott saw that the hand the cowboyheld tightly against the horse's throat was red. The weakness vanishedand he cursed himself for a fool. What was a horse--a thousand horses tothe lives of humans--her life? The bottle was filled almost instantlyand he handed Tex the can.

  "Drink it--all you can hold of it. It won't taste good, but it's wet."He was gulping great swallows from the tin, as with the other hand hetried to hold back the flow. Endicott placed the bottle to his lips andwas surprised to find that he emptied it almost at a draught. Again andagain the Texan filled the bottle and the can as both in a frenzy ofdesire gulped the thick liquid. When, at length they were satiated, theblood still flowed. The receptacles were filled, set aside, and coveredwith a strip of cloth. For a moment longer the horse stood with theblood spurting from his throat, then with a heavy sigh he toppledsidewise and crashed heavily to the ground. The Texan fixed the cork inthe bottle, plugged the can as best he could, and taking them, togetherwith the remaining can of tomatoes, tied them into the slicker behind thecantle of his saddle. He swung the bag containing the few remainingbiscuits to the horn.

  "Give her the tomatoes when you have to. _You_ can use the othercan--tell her that's tomatoes, too. She'll never tumble that it's blood."

  Endicott stared at the other: "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that you had better wake her up, now, an' get goin'. I'll waithere for Bat. He's probably found the spring by this time, an' he'll bemoseyin' along directly with water an' the pack-horse."

  Endicott took a step toward him: "It won't work, Tex," he said, with asmile. "You don't expect me to believe that if you really thought Batwould return with water, you would be sending us away from here into thisdust-storm. No. I'm the one that waits for Bat. You go ahead and takeher through, and then you can come back for me."

  The Texan shook his head: "I got you into this deal, an'----"

  "You did it to protect me!" flared Endicott. "I'm the cause for allthis, and I'll stand the gaff!"

  The Texan smiled, and Endicott noticed that it was the same cynical smilewith which the man had regarded him in the dance hall, and again as theyhad faced each other under the cottonwoods of Buffalo Coulee. "Sincewhen you be'n runnin' this outfit?"

  "It don't make any difference since when! The fact is, I'm running it,now--that is, to the extent that I'll be damned if you're going to staybehind and rot in this God-forsaken inferno, while I ride to safety onyour horse."

  The smile died from the cowboy's face: "It ain't that, Win. I guess youdon't savvy, but I do. She's yours, man. Take her an' go! There was awhile that I thought--but, hell!"

  "I'm not so sure of that," Endicott replied. "Only yesterday, or the daybefore, she told me she could not choose--yet."

  "She'll choose," answered Tex, "an' she won't choose--me. She ain'tmakin' no mistake, neither. By God, I know a man when I see one!"

  Endicott stepped forward and shook his fist in the cowboy's face: "It'sthe only chance. You can do it--I can't. For God's sake, man, besensible! Either of us would do it--for her. It is only a question ofsuccess, and all that it means; and failure--and all that that means.You know the country--I don't. You are experienced in fighting thisdamned desert--I'm not. Any one of a dozen things might mean thedifference between life and death. You would take advantage of them--Icouldn't."

  "You're a lawyer, Win--an' a damn good one. I wondered what your tradewas. If I ever run foul of the law, I'll sure send for you, _pronto_.If I was a jury you'd have me plumb convinced--but, I ain't a jury. Theway I look at it, the case stands about like this: We can't stay here,and there can't only two of us go. I can hold out here longer than youcould, an' you can go just as far with the horses as
I could. Just givethem their head an' let them drift--that's all I could do. If the stormlets up you'll see the Split Rock water-hole--you can't miss it if you'rein sight of it, there's a long black ridge with a big busted rock on theend of it, an' just off the end is a round, high mound--the soda hill,they call it, and the water-hole is between. If you pass the water-hole,you'll strike the Miszoo. You can tell that from a long ways off, too,by the fringe of green that lines the banks. And, as for the rest ofit--I mean, if the storm don't let up, or the horses go down, I couldn'tdo any more than you could--it's cashin' in time then anyhow, an' thelong, long sleep, no matter who's runnin' the outfit. An' if it comes tothat, it's better for her to pass her last hours with one of her own kindthan with--me."

  Endicott thrust out his hand: "I think any one could be proud to spendtheir last hours with one of your kind," he said huskily. "I believe wewill all win through--but, if worse comes to worst---- Good Bye."

  "So Long, Win," said the cowboy, grasping the hand. "Wake her up an'pull out quick. I'll onhobble the horses."