THE RESCUE
"Whoa there, old boy! Steady!" Dave spoke to his horse, and the animal,
that had been frightened by the sudden throwing into the air of the
handkerchief, stood still.
"I see where you are!" Dave called to the unknown and unseen one--a man,
evidently, by the tones of his voice. "I'll be with you in a minute!"
"Be careful of yourself," was the caution. "I had a bad fall in here, and
I don't want to see any one else get into trouble. Go a bit slow."
"Thanks, I will," Dave said "But I know this ground pretty well. Stand
still now, old fellow," he went on to his horse. "I don't want you
falling, and breaking your leg or neck."
Crow whinnied as though he understood, and Dave, slipping the reins over
the neck of the intelligent animal as a further intimation that he was to
stay where he was without wandering, climbed from the saddle, a bit
wearily it must be confessed, and started for the rock, behind which lay
the injured man, and from which point the young cattleman had observed the
white handkerchief.
"Careful now." cautioned the voice again.
"All right, don't worry about me," said Dave, easily.
A moment later he had turned around the intervening rock, and saw,
stretched out on the ground, hanging half way over a deep and rock-filled
gully, a man about twenty-seven years of age. Dave guessed this much
though he could see only a part of the man's body, for his head and
shoulders were hanging down over the ledge.
"What are you doing there?" was Dave's first question. "Why don't you get
up?"
For it was exactly as if the man were lying face downward on top of a
cliff, looking down.
"I can't get up," the man answered, his voice being a bit muffled because
his head was hanging over the cliff. "My foot is caught in a cleft in the
rocks, and I'm afraid to move for fear it will pull loose. If it does I'll
lose my balance and topple, for I'm hanging more than half-way over this
cliff now. And it doesn't look like a good place into which to fall."
This was true enough, as Dave knew, for the bottom of the gully was
covered with jagged rocks. More than one straying steer had fallen over
there and had been dashed to pieces.
"Steady!" called Dave. "I see how it is. I'll soon have you out of that.
I'm going back for my rope."
"Are you a puncher?" asked the man.
"Yes," answered Dave, briefly. "But don't talk. Save your strength. I'll
have you out in a jiffy."
He hurried back to where he had left his horse, and took from the horn of
the saddle the rope which no cowboy is ever without. With this Dave took a
turn about the man's waist, passing the rope under him. He then carried an
end back to a stout tree and tied it there, working, the while, deftly and
swiftly.
"That will hold you in case you slip when I loosen the rocks and free your
foot," Dave explained. "You are pretty well overbalanced. But I'll get you
up, all right."
The man was in a peculiar and perilous position, but Dave thought that he
could cope with the situation. His life on the plains, and amid the perils
of the range had made him resourceful, and quick to take advantage of all
the chances for safety.
Dave looked at the man's foot. It was firmly wedged in between two rocks
that came together in the form of a large V. Considerable pressure must
have forced the man's foot there, for Dave could see that the stout
leather of his riding boot was cut and scraped. The foot was twisted, and
Dave remarked, in a low voice:
"If you haven't a badly sprained ankle I'll miss my guess!"
"Watch yourself now," David cautioned the man. "You can't fall, even if
you slip over, for the rope's strong enough to hold you; but you may get a
bad jerk when you bring up suddenly if you fall after I release your
foot."
"I'm ready," said the man.
Dave looked at the two stones between which the man's foot was wedged.
Then with a heavy tree branch, inserted in such a way as not to bring any
crushing force on the stranger's leg, Dave used the branch as a lever and
pressed down with all his might.
"It's giving!" the man cried. "I can feel it giving!"
"Look out for yourself!" Dave shouted.
Once more he pressed down hard on the tree lever.
The rocks were pried apart. The man's foot slipped free. Dave, seeing
this, dropped the branch, made a grab for the leg, for the man's body was
going over the cliff. Of course he could not fall _far_, as the rope would
hold him, but Dave wanted to save him this jerk if possible.
The young cowboy caught the stranger's boot. Dave was aware of a cry of
pain from the man, and realized that the ankle must be severely injured.
"I can't help it," thought Dave, grimly. "I've got to hurt him some to
save him more," and he held on desperately.
Dave was strong, and the man, now that his foot was free, was able to use
his hands to push himself back, up over the edge of the cliff. After a few
seconds of rather strenuous struggle Dave, with the help of the man
himself, was able to get him to a sitting position on the edge of the
cliff that overhung the gully.
The man was pale, and his face was scratched and bleeding. His clothing
was disheveled, and he showed many signs of the struggle through which he
had gone.
"Thank--thanks," he gasped, weakly.
"Now don't try to talk until you get your breath," Dave advised him.
"Here, drink some of this. It's warm, but it's wet."
Dave carried with him a water canteen, and this he now put to the lips of
the man. The latter drank greedily.
"That's good," he whispered. He lay back weakly, Dave supporting him in
his arms. The man's eyes closed, and Dave feared he was about to faint.
Quickly the young cowboy whipped off his coat, and folding it in pillow
shape, put it on the rocks, and laid the man's head down on it.
The stranger opened his eyes.
"Don't be alarmed," he said. "I'm not going to die. I'm just getting my
breath back. I was hanging there a good while I guess."
He closed his eyes again, and moved his foot--the one that had been caught
between the rocks.
A groan came through his clenched teeth and tightly pressed lips, and,
accompanied by a sudden wave of whiteness that made his face paler than
before, a shudder passed over him.
"He's fainted this time, for keeps," decided Dave, grimly.