A STARTLING INTERRUPTION.
IT did not take the boys long to become acquainted with Strubell and
Lattin. The former showed by his conversation that he possessed a fair
education, though Lattin was barely able to write his name. They were
frank, outspoken, courageous, ready of resource, familiar with all the
dangers they were likely to meet on the long ride toward the northwest,
and the finest horsemen the boys had ever seen.
Through the help of the Texans, Nick and Herbert secured three
excellent animals, two of them possessing great speed and endurance,
while the third was the equal of the best burro or mule for carrying
a heavy burden. The Winchesters were the best, too, of their kind,
the men being similarly armed. Nick and Herbert took care to provide
themselves with an excellent field-glass apiece, for nothing was more
likely than that they would find abundant call for their use. The rest
of the supplies were bought on the advice of the cowboys.
They passed near a number of towns and settlements during the first
week, in one of which they generally stayed overnight. So long as they
were able to secure the comforts of ordinary travel through a settled
section, they would have been foolish to decline it.
It had been so long since the boys had ridden far on horseback,
that they were stiffened for the first few days, so that, when they
dismounted, they were hardly able to walk. This, however, soon wore off
until they were able to stand a ride of forty or fifty miles without
any ill effects.
No physician could have watched a patient with greater care than Nick
watched Herbert. He tried to keep it from the knowledge of his friend,
and thought he succeeded, though Herbert told him afterward that he
knew all the time what he was doing.
The elder youth felt bad when they reached St. Louis, and was still
worse on their arrival in San Antonio. The long ride in the cars
made him feverish, and he had little appetite, but the new scenes and
surroundings, the cheerful company of Nick, and his own ambition did
wonders in the way of keeping him up.
He showed an improvement within twenty-four hours after arriving in the
City of the Alamo, and this continued steadily, until the second day
out, when the beautiful weather, that they had been having for weeks,
was broken by a norther which, however, was not severe, though it
brought so much rain and dismal weather that they were compelled to lie
by at one of the straggling frontier towns for several days.
They rode through the hills and highlands between Fredericksburg and
Fort Clark, fording a tributary of the Llano River, and pushing almost
due northwest toward New Mexico, whose southeast corner they were
aiming to strike at the point of intersection between the twenty-sixth
meridian and thirty-second parallel.
The country now began to assume a wilder appearance. The weather was
like a dream, and Nick could well understand how it is that more than
twenty thousand people in Texas never sleep under a roof from one
year’s end to another. He could appreciate, too, the reason why the
immigrant, no matter how homesick, who braves it out for six months,
never leaves Texas unless for a brief visit to his northern home,
returning to die in the Lone Star State, which has become the land of
his adoption.
The appearance showed the country, or rather that portion of it,
to contain a great many more people than the boys supposed before
entering Texas. The settlements were generally miserable collections
of shanties, with the inevitable gambling and drinking saloon and the
quota of “bad men,” on the lookout for tenderfeet, or those of their
own class that were ready to mingle in a row off-hand. Everyone rode on
horseback, and carried his revolver and rifle, the latter generally a
Winchester of the repeating pattern.
The cattlemen were numerous, some of them nearly always in sight among
the hills, or on the broad, rolling prairie. Occasionally an Indian
was met, but he was far from being the romantic individual that boys
generally have in mind, when reading about the noble red man. He was
untidy and sullen looking, with an appetite for whiskey that was never
sated, and the odor of rank tobacco around him.
It was about a week after the departure from San Antonio that the
youths noticed a marked change in things. The country became more
broken, the settlements disappeared, and during the middle of the
afternoon, when Herbert swept the horizon with his field glass, he made
known, with an expression of surprise, that there was not a living
person, so far as he knew, in sight.
“We’ve put a good piece of country behind us,” said Strubell, “and if
nothing goes wrong, we ought to strike New Mexico in the course of the
next ten days.”
Nick laughed.
“I fancied we would make it in less time than that.”
“So we mought,” remarked Lattin, “if there was any call to hurry; but,
as I understand this business, we aint runnin’ the pony express for
Santa Fé or Rincon.”
That night their camp was in a section which charmed the boys, for
there was an air of loneliness, and the danger that seemed to be
brooding over the vicinity was of a kind not yet encountered since
entering Texas.
In some respects, the camp reminded them of their moose hunt in Maine,
though the contrast in the season was marked. There were the hills,
rising almost to the dignity of mountains, the bowlders and rocks, the
stream of water, not more than a few inches in width and depth, and the
beautiful blue sky overhead.
The weather was cooler than it had been, and the hunters shook their
heads, and hinted about a norther that was liable to break over them
before many hours. There were no signs of Indians, and had there been,
the aborigines would have been held in no greater dread than those of
their own race. The party were so far westward that the arm of the law
was weak, and everyone must depend on his own vigilance and alertness.
When the wood, which was not over abundant in those parts, was
collected for the fire by which they intended to cook the meat obtained
from a maverick earlier in the day, the horses were turned loose, and
the four friends gathered around the blaze, which was kindled in an
open space, where the light was visible for a long way in nearly every
direction. Around this they sat, and, while the men smoked their pipes,
they recalled many a thrilling encounter with the red men in the Pan
Handle, in Arizona, and in New Mexico. Strubell and Lattin were equally
interested in the story which Nick told of their hunt for the king of
moose in Maine. That species of game was unfamiliar to them, and when
they learned of the gallant style in which Herbert brought down the big
fellow at the moment he was charging upon his companion, they looked
upon the tall youth with something like wonder and admiration. They had
no idea of having such a hero “in their midst.”
Since it was necessary that everyone should bear a hand in guarding
against the perils on which they were entering, the hunters arranged
that the youths should regularly take part in standing watch each
night. Their method made it easy and safe for all, since the watches
were four in number, each about two hours long. Everyone was able to
keep awake for that length of time, even while sitting on the ground,
and the turns alternated, so as to equalize the task all round. Had the
watches been longer, the youths, as was the case while down East, would
have been likely to slumber on their posts.
Arden Strubell was stretched out on the further side of the fire, flat
on his back, his head resting on a stone, which was softened somewhat
by his hands that were clasped between it and the back of his head,
with the elbows projecting like wings from each side. One leg was
partly drawn up, with the other crossed over it, his position being the
picture of indolence and ease. The pipe, whose stem was in the corner
of his mouth, was only gently puffed at long intervals, for it was
Arden’s turn to sleep until eleven o’clock. He was, therefore, taking
no share in the conversation which went on in such gentle, murmuring
tones that it tended more to drowsiness than wakefulness on his part.
Matters were in this form, and the night was progressing, when Lattin,
who was sitting directly opposite his friend, raised his hand for
silence, and said in a frightened whisper:
“Arden, don’t move or you’re a dead man!”
“I know it,” was the quiet reply from the Texan, who did not stir a
muscle, “but what can I do? I’m a dead man anyway.”