A DESPERATE CHANCE
"Come on, fellows; Come on!" yelled Bud, as he clapped his heels
against the sides of his pony and rushed toward the rustlers.
"Give 'em all they got coming!"
"We're with you!" cried Nort.
"A fight to the finish!" shouted Dick.
The boy ranchers had their weapons out, as, indeed, had every one
of the following cowboys. Nor was Del Pinzo's gang a whit behind
in this, though their lawless leader did not seem to be present.
The sun gleamed on the flashing ornaments of silver worn by some
of the Mexican Greasers as they rode to the fray.
"Don't ride too far, Bud!" called Slim, for the boys were
inclined to be reckless.
"We've got to ride 'em down or they'll have all the cattle out of
that far opening before we get there!" Bud answered. And, as he
replied he fired one shot in the air, over the heads of the
enemy. For Bud bore in mind his father's injunction, not to shoot
to wound unless it was absolutely necessary. And Bud thought
perhaps a strong show of force would awe the rustlers, causing
them to retreat.
However, they were in too strong force for this. And as the boy
ranchers and their friends rode on into the vast, natural,
volcanic bowl, and were able to take note of their foes, they saw
that the rustlers outnumbered them two to one.
Bud's shot--the first of the fight--was the signal for general
firing, though, as usual in such engagements, the initial
fusilade was wild on both sides; mercifully so, it seemed
ordered, for no one was hurt by the opening volley.
"There's going to be a hot time!" shouted Yellin' Kid, as he
spurred forward. "And I don't see th' skunk that spoiled my hat!
Where is he?"
"Del Pinzo would rather his men'd get th' lickin's!" answered
Snake. "He's hidin' out, I reckon."
"I'd like to find his hole!" said Yellin' Kid.
The clashing forces were nearer each other now, with the bunch of
Happy Valley steers in between, but off to one side. In order
that you may better understand what follows, and the positions of
the contending parties, I will explain the situation briefly.
The boy ranchers and their friends had ridden in on what I might
call the north end of the volcanic crater, in which bowl the
rustlers had hidden the cattle. The opening by which the cattle
had been placed in the bowl had been closed by a slide of dirt
and shale but this had been partly cleared away by our friends so
they could ride through the crack.
At what may be termed the south end of the crater was a larger
opening, wide enough, in fact, for several horsemen to ride
abreast or a large herd of cattle to be driven through. This
opening had been roughly fenced off to keep in the cattle. And it
was through this opening that the rustlers had ridden, advancing
to meet the force of the boy ranchers coming from the north.
The cattle had been feeding in the centre of the bowl, but as the
two parties began the fight, the steers drew off to the west. It
was evidently the intention of the rustlers to take out the
cattle if possible. Whether they could succeed in driving them
away in spite of the pursuit of the rightful owners, or whether
they hoped to hide them in some other secret place did not
develop.
At any rate, here were the two contending parties racing toward
each other, and firing as they galloped forward. And when they
were all out in the open it was evident that the rustlers far
outnumbered the boy ranchers and their friends.
One thing, however, was in favor of Bud and the others with him.
They had advanced farther into the bowl than had the rustlers,
and were past the centre when the actual fray began. Using the
illustration of a football game, to which I am tempted because of
the location of the fray, I might remark that the ball was now
over the centre line and well into the enemy's territory. It was
up to Bud and his followers to rush it over for a touchdown.
But the rustlers were not going to give up without a sharp fight.
They had come to take away the cattle, and this they now
endeavored to do. Several Greasers separated from the main body
and began to circle around with the evident intention of cutting
out a bunch of steers, to drive them to the larger opening, where
the fence had been torn down.
"We've got to stop that!" shouted Slim. "Here, Snake, you and Kid
ride over and see what you can do!"
The two cowboys, shouting at the tops of their voices, wheeled to
one side and started toward half a dozen Greasers. The odds were
not so great as they seemed, for right and justice were on the
side of the cowboys.
Suddenly Dick, who was riding between Bud and Nort, gave a little
cry, and his weapon dropped from his right hand, on which a spot
of blood appeared.
"Hit?" asked Nort.
"Only a scratch," Dick answered. He halted his pony, snatched his
neckerchief off and, with the help of his brother, bound up the
wound. It was decidedly more than a scratch, being a deep cut
where a glancing bullet had hit, and Dick's hand would be out of
commission for some time.
"But I can fire with my left," he added, a feat to which he was
equal, "and Star guides by knee pressure." He was riding a pony
he had taught to obey directions by means of pressure of the
cowboy's knees on either side. And Dick had been practicing left
hand shooting for some time. His gun restored to him, he rode on
with his brother and cousin.
With sudden yells, accompanied by as sudden a rush, a band of the
Greasers now rode straight for Bud, Dick, Nort and some of the
Diamond X outfit with our heroes. So fierce was the attack, and
in such numbers, that there was nothing for our friends to do but
retreat, for the time being at least.
This attack took place in a part of the bowl where there were a
large number of immense boulders scattered. Seeing that these
formed a natural protection, or breastwork, Bud called to his
cousins and the men to get behind the stones.
"Make the horses lie down!" was his advice. "We'll fight Indian
fashion!"
And, at this point, at least, this became the style of the
battle. The Greasers rode fast, endeavoring to cut off Bud and
his party, but the latter reached the haven of rocks first, and
with the horses on their sides, positions the steeds were glad
enough to assume, doubtless, the advantage was on the side of the
boy ranchers.
They were protected by rocks, from behind which they could fire,
while the enemy was in the open. But the enemy far outnumbered
our friends, and the latter, for the time being, were in the
position of persons besieged.
For, no sooner had the Greasers seen what was the object of Bud
and his followers, than the lawless ones took such small shelter
as they could find, some behind their prostrate horses, and began
firing at the boy ranchers' party. And as the renegade Mexicans
were, in a number of cases, armed with rifles, the odds against
Bud and his chums were increased. True, the Greasers were not
good marksmen, but a rifle in the hands of even a poor shooter is
often more than a match for a .45 revolver in the hands of an
expert.
"Pick 'em off!" cried Bud, as bullets zinged their way in among
the rocks behind which he and his friends were hidden. "Pick 'em
off, but don't expose yourself!"
This was good advice if it could have been followed, but to fire
effectively it was necessary for those of the Diamond X outfit to
take aim over, or to one side, of the rocks, and when this was
done, some part of the body was exposed. At such times the
watching Greasers fired.
It was now an actual state of siege as far as Bud and his
immediate companions were concerned, and they were outnumbered.
Several of Bud's party, including Nort this time, had been
slightly wounded. But, in turn, they had wounded some Greasers,
too, one vitally, as was learned later.
Meanwhile, Snake and Kid were having their own troubles with the
party of Greasers they had been sent off to intercept and prevent
from driving off the cattle. More Mexicans had joined their
comrades, and Kid and Snake were obliged to beat a retreat,
joining Slim and his forces, who were fighting the main, and
larger body of rustlers.
And it was while these two separate fights were going on, and
while the Greasers that had forced Kid and Snake to retire were
gathering together a bunch of cattle to drive out of the main
opening, that Dick, who was readjusting the bandage on his hand,
saw something that made his heart sink.
This was a sight of another body of Greasers riding into the bowl
from the south end--a body of Mexican horsemen led by Del Pinzo
himself.
"I guess it's all up with us now," said Dick to his brother,
calling the latter's attention to the reinforcements of the
enemy. "That's what that half-breed was hanging back for. He
wanted to get us well mixed up, and now he'll drive off the
cattle."
"Whew!" whistled Nort. "It does look that way. What we going to
do, Dick?"
The two brothers were behind a great boulder, off to one side.
Bud and some of the cowboys were replying to a brisk fire on the
part of the besieging Greasers.
For a moment, after having tied the bandage on his hand, Dick did
not answer. Then, as if an inspiration came to him, he said:
"It's only a chance, Nort, and a desperate chance at that. But
maybe we can do it! Did you ever read Kipling's 'Drums of the
Fore and Aft'?"
"Sure! But what's that got to do with this?"
"A lot. You and I are going to be the 'Drums' and these are going
to play the tune," and he tapped his .45. "Come on," he added,
motioning to his brother. "As I said, it's a desperate chance,
but it may do the trick!"