STRANGE ACTIONS
Until there was what in law is termed an "overt act," the boy ranchers
and their friends could do nothing against the sheep herders who were
there in plain sight, with their woolly charges on the far side of Spur
Creek. "Overt act" is a law term, and practically means an open act as
distinguished from one that is done in secret and under cover.
Thus if the sheep herders should openly attempt to cross the creek, and
drive their animals up on Mr. Merkel's land--or land which he
claimed--then Bud and his associates could proceed against them,
driving them off--"repelling boarders," as Dick expressed it, having in
mind some of his favorite pirate tales.
But until the sheep men had done something--had committed an overt
act--they could not be molested as long as they remained where they
were.
"It's like this," explained Bud, for his father had made matters plain
to him over the mended telephone line. "We got to wait until they set
foot on our land--or until some of their onery sheep begin to
nibble--and then we can start something."
"What, for instance?" asked Dick.
"Well, we can order 'em off--that is, order the Greasers off," replied
Bud. "Not much use talking to sheep, I reckon."
"Nor to a Greaser, either," murmured Snake. "One is about as bright
and smart as the other."
"Anyhow," resumed Bud, "we can't do anything until they start
something."
"Not even if we know they're going to do it?" asked another of the
cowboys who, meanwhile, had arrived from Diamond X ready for a fight.
"Not even then," answered Bud. "But once they cross the creek and land
here, then we'll begin," and he looked to his gun.
"What'll we do with the sheep?" asked the cowboy. There seemed to be
no doubt in the minds of the men as to what they would do with the
Greasers.
"We'll have to dispose of 'em," said Bud regretfully. "It seems a
pity, too, for the poor things haven't done any harm. But it's either
their lives or those of our cattle. The two can't live on the same
range, and the sheep have no right here."
"Shoot 'em and drive 'em back into the water if they try to swim
across--is that it?" asked Dick.
"Yes, but hang it all!" cried Bud, "I hope that doesn't happen. I sure
hate to do it!"
And to give them credit, the others felt the same way about it.
Meanwhile the sheep having settled down to a quiet but fast
feeding--which is their characteristic--the actions of the band of
Greaser and Mexican herders who had them in charge was eagerly watched
by the boy ranchers and their friends.
They saw two horsemen ride down to the bank of the creek at one spot
and urge their steeds in. For a time all seemed to go well, but
suddenly, when a few yards out in the stream one of the Mexicans
frantically called to his companion, who shouted an inquiry as to what
was wrong.
Something very dangerously wrong seemed to be the trouble, for the
first Mexican was now frantically appealing for help, and a moment
later his companion sent his lariat hissing through the air, the coils
settling around the frightened man who grasped the rope and leaped into
the creek.
But the horse remained in the water, though the animal was wildly
struggling to turn and go back to the southern shore, along which the
sheep were feeding, some of them slaking their thirst in Spur Creek.
Pulling his companion along by the lariat, the still mounted Mexican
made for the shore he had so recently quitted, leaving the lone horse
to struggle by itself.
"What does that mean?" cried Dick.
"Quicksands--just what I told you about," answered Bud. "There are a
lot of places where the bed of the creek is pitted with quick sands,
and this Greaser struck one."
"One did and the other didn't," observed Snake, for it was evident that
the rider who had used his lariat had found firm footing for his steed.
"That's it," Bud explained. "You can't tell where the sands are and
where they aren't. I happen to know some places that are free," he
went on, "but, even there the water is too deep for the sheep to get
across, on account of the current."
The two Mexicans, one on his horse and the other swimming at the end of
the lariat, had reached the shore they so recently quitted, on what
object could only be guessed. Then there was very evidently a
conference among the sheep herders during which the excited men who had
taken part in the adventure pointed to the spot where the horse was
struggling.
"I hope they aren't going to leave that poor brute to suffer," murmured
Yellin' Kid, his voice low for one of the few times in his career.
But it was evident that whatever were the faults of the sheep herders
they did not number among them too much cruelty to a horse. For when
it was evident that the animal could not free himself, a number of the
Greasers rode as close as was safe, and tossed their lariats about the
animal's neck. Then they began pulling.
But the quicksands had too firm a grip on the animal's legs. He had
sunk lower in the stream, and his struggles were less, simply because
he was now so nearly engulfed in the powerful suction of the
water-soaked and ever-shifting sands.
"They'll never get him out,' said Dick.
"Have to pull his poor head off if they do," agreed Bud.
And this was so evident that the Mexican sheep herders soon gave up the
attempt. They dared not even go close enough to the horse to release
their ropes, but, casting them off from their saddle horns, had to see
them sink down in the quicksands with the poor beast.
For this is what happened. The unfortunate animal, unable to extricate
himself from the terrible grip of the sands, being too firmly held to
permit of being dragged out, sank lower and lower. The water came half
way up his sides. It closed over his back, but still his head was free.
With all his power the brute struggled, but with four legs gripped he
could do little more than shudder convulsively. Then as the waters
came closer and closer to his head, caused by the fact that the horse
was sinking lower and lower in the soft sand, the beast gave a terrible
cry--terrible in its agony.
A moment later it was gone from sight forever.
A hush fell upon the assemblage of cowboys in front of the Spur Creek
fort of Diamond X ranch. And a hush, no less, came over the bunch of
Mexican sheep herders on the far side of the stream. But that the man
could leap off and swim to shore, aided by his companion's lariat, the
fate of the horse in the quicksands might have been his fate.
"What's going on?" asked a voice behind Bud and Dick.
They turned quickly to behold Nort, who had ridden back from the ranch
headquarters.
"What you all looking at?" he asked, for the cowboys were gazing
silently at the spot in the stream where the tragedy had just taken
place.
They informed Nort in a few words.
"Well," he remarked, "that's the best protection we could have against
the sheep coming over--quicksands in the creek."
"The only trouble is," said Dick slowly, "that the quicksands are only
in certain places. They can cross safely elsewhere."
"The point is, though," observed Bud, "that they can only guess at
those places. And, not knowing where they are, may make them stay away
altogether."
"I hope so, but I don't believe it," remarked Snake. "You'll see they
won't give up so easily."
Nor did the sheep herders thus forego an attempt to graze their flocks
on the rich pasture claimed by Mr. Merkel. It was too late that day to
attempt anything more. Night settled down, but with an augmented force
of cowboys at the fort the boy ranchers were not apprehensive.
Tours of duty were arranged, so that two or more cowboys would be on
guard all night. However, the hours of darkness passed with no further
activity on the part of the Mexicans.
In the morning, however, the forces from Diamond X ranch observed
strange actions on the part of their enemies.
"What in the world are they up to?" asked Nort, as he and his brother
and cousin looked across the river.
Well might he ask that.