HORROCKS LEARNS THE SECRET OF THE MUSKEG
The rope which brought Horrocks to the ground came near to strangling
him. He struggled wildly as he fell, and, as he struggled, the grip of
the rope tightened. He felt that the blood was ready to burst from his
temples and eyes. Then everything seemed to swim about him and he
believed consciousness was leaving him. Everything was done in a moment
and yet he seemed to be passing through an eternity of time.
The lariat is a handy weapon, but to truly appreciate its merits one
must be a prairie man. The Breeds are prairie men. They understand fully
the uses to which a "rope" may be put. For criminal purposes they
appreciate its silent merits, and the dexterity with which they can use
it makes its value equal to, and even surpass, the noisier and more
tell-tale pistol.
The next thing that the policeman knew was that he was stretched on his
back upon the ground, disarmed, and with a great bandanna secured about
his eyes and mouth, and his hands tied behind his back. Then a gruff
voice bade him rise, and, as he silently obeyed, he was glad to feel
that the gripping lariat was removed from his throat. Truly had the
officer's pride gone before a fall. And his feelings were now of the
deepest chagrin. He stood turning his head from side to side, blindly
seeking to penetrate the bandage about his eyes. He knew where he was,
of course, but he would have given half his year's salary for a sight of
his assailants.
He was not given long for his futile efforts. The same rough voice
which had bade him rise now ordered him to walk, and he found himself
forced forward by the aid of a heavy hand which gripped one of his arms.
The feeling of a blindfold walk is not a happy one, and the officer
experienced a strange sensation of falling as he was urged he knew not
whither. After a few steps he was again halted, and then he felt himself
seized from behind and lifted bodily into a conveyance.
He quickly realized that he was in a buckboard. The slats which formed
the body of it, as his feet lit upon them, told him this. Then two men
jumped in after him and he found himself seated between them. And so he
was driven off.
In justice to Horrocks it must be said that he experienced no fear.
True, his chagrin was very great. He saw only too plainly what want of
discretion he had displayed in trusting to the Breed's story, but he
felt that his previous association with the rascal warranted his
credulity, and the outcome must be regarded as the fortune of war. He
only wondered what strange experience this blindfold journey was to
forerun. There was not the least doubt in his mind as to whose was the
devising of this well-laid and well-carried-out plot. Retief, he knew,
must be answerable for the plan, and the method displayed in its
execution plainly showed him that every detail had been carefully
thought out, and administered by only too willing hands. That there was
more than ordinary purpose in this blindfold journey he felt assured,
and he racked his brains to discover the desperado's object. He even
found time to speculate as to how it had fared with his men, only here
he was even more at a loss than in the case of his own ultimate fate.
In less than half an hour from the time of his capture the buckboard
drew up beside some bush. Horrocks knew it was a bluff. He could hear
the rustle of the leaves as they fluttered in the gentle night air. Then
he was unceremoniously hustled to the ground, and, equally
unceremoniously, urged forward until his feet trod upon the stubbly,
breaking undergrowth. Next he was brought to a stand and swung round,
face about, his bonds were removed, and four powerful hands gripped his
arms. By these he was drawn backwards until he bumped against a
tree-trunk. His hands were then again made fast, but this time his arms
embraced the tree behind him. In this manner he was securely trussed.
Now from behind--his captors were well behind him--a hand reached over,
and, by a swift movement, removed the bandage from before his eyes.
Then, before he had time to turn his head, he heard a scrambling through
the bush, and, a moment later, the sound of the creaking buckboard
rapidly receding. He was left alone; and, after one swift, comprehensive
survey, to his surprise, he found himself facing the wire-spreading
muskeg, at the very spot where he had given up further pursuit of the
cattle whose "spur" he had traced down to the brink of the viscid mire.
His astonishment rendered him oblivious to all else. He merely gazed out
across that deceptive flat and wondered. Why--why had this thing been
done, and what strange freak had induced the "hustler" to conceive such
a form of imprisonment for his captive? Horrocks struggled with his
confusion, but he failed to fathom the mystery, and never was a man's
confusion worse confounded than was his.
Presently he bethought him of his bonds, and he cautiously tried them.
They were quite unyielding, and, at each turn of his arms, they caused
him considerable pain. The Breeds had done their work well, and he
realized that he must wait the raider's pleasure. He was certain of one
thing, however, which brought him a slight amount of comfort. He had
been brought here for a definite purpose. Moreover, he did not believe
that he was to be left here alone for long. So, with resignation induced
by necessity, he possessed himself of what patience he best could
summon.
How long that solitary vigil lasted Horrocks had no idea. Time, in that
predicament, was to him of little account. He merely wondered and
waited. He considered himself more than fortunate that his captors had
seen fit to remove the bandage from his eyes. In spite of his painful
captivity he felt less helpless from the fact that he could see what
might be about him.
From a general survey his attention soon became riveted upon the muskeg
spread out before him, and, before long, his thoughts turned to the
secret path which he knew, at some point near by, bridged the silent
horror. All about him was lit by the starry splendor of the sky. The
scent of the redolent grass of the great keg hung heavily upon the air
and smelt sweet in his nostrils. He could see the ghostly outline of the
distant peaks of the mountains, he could hear the haunting cries of
nightfowl and coyote; but these things failed to interest him.
Familiarity with the prairie made them, to him, commonplace. The
path--the secret of the great keg. That was the absorbing thought which
occupied his waiting moments. He felt that its discovery would more than
compensate for any blunders he had made. He strained his keen eyes as he
gazed at the tall waving grass of the mire, as though to tear from the
bosom of the awful swamp the secret it so jealously guarded. He slowly
surveyed its dark surface, almost inch by inch, in the hopes of
discovering the smallest indication or difference which might lead to
the desired end.
There was nothing in what he saw to guide him, nothing which offered the
least suggestion of a path. In the darkness the tall waving grass took a
nondescript hue which reached unbroken for miles around. Occasionally
the greensward seemed to ripple in the breeze, like water swayed by a
soft summer zephyr, but beyond this the outlook was uniform--darkly
mysterious--inscrutable.
His arms cramped under the pressure of the restraining bonds and he
moved uneasily. Now and again the rustling of the leaves overhead caused
him to listen keenly. Gradually his fancy became slightly distorted,
and, as time passed, the sounds which had struck so familiarly upon his
ears, and which had hitherto passed unheeded, began to get upon his
nerves.
By-and-by he found himself listening eagerly for the monotonous
repetition of the prairie scavenger's dismal howl, and as the cries
recurred they seemed to grow in power and become more plaintively
horrible. Now, too, the sighing of the breeze drew more keen attention
from the imprisoned man, and fancy magnified it into the sound of many
approaching feet. These matters were the effect of solitude. At such
times nerves play curious pranks.
In spite of his position, in spite of his anxiety of mind, the
police-officer began to grow drowsy. The long night's vigil was telling,
and nature rebelled, as she always will rebel when sleep is refused and
bodily rest is unobtainable. A man may pace his bedroom for hours with
the unmitigated pain of toothache. Even while the pain is almost
unendurable his eyes will close and he will continue his peregrinations
with tottering gait, awake, but with most of his faculties drowsily
faltering. Horrocks found his head drooping forward, and, even against
his will, his eyes would close. Time and again he pulled himself
together, only the next instant to catch himself dozing off again.
Suddenly, however, he was electrified into life. He was awake now, and
all drowsiness had vanished. A sound--distant, rumbling, but
distinct--had fallen upon his, for the moment, dulled ears. For awhile
it likened to the far-off growl of thunder, blending with a steady rush
of wind. But it was not passing. The sound remained and grew steadily
louder. A minute passed--then another and then another. Horrocks stared
in the direction, listening with almost painful intensity. As the
rumbling grew, and the sound became more distinct, a light of
intelligence crept into the prisoner's face. He heard and recognized.
"Cattle!" he muttered, and in that pronouncement was an inflection of
joy. "Cattle--and moving at a great pace."
He was alert now, as alert as he had ever been in his life. Was he at
last going to discover the coveted secret? Cattle traveling fast at this
time of night, and in the vicinity of the great keg. What could it mean?
To his mind there could only be one construction which he could
reasonably put upon the circumstance. The cattle were being "hustled,"
and the hustler must be the half-breed Retief.
Then, like a douche of cold water, followed the thought that he had been
purposely made a prisoner at the edge of the muskeg. Surely he was not
to be allowed to see the cattle pass over the mire and then be permitted
to go free. Even Retief in his wildest moments of bravado could not
meditate so reckless a proceeding. No, there was some subtle purpose
underlying this new development--possibly the outcome was to be far more
grim than he had supposed. He waited horrified, at his own thoughts, but
fascinated in spite of himself.
The sound grew rapidly and Horrocks's face remained turned in the
direction from which it proceeded. He fancied, even in the uncertain
light, that he could see the distant crowd of beasts silhouetted against
the sky-line. His post of imprisonment was upon the outskirts of the
bush, and he had a perfect and uninterrupted view of the prairie along
the brink of the keg, both to the north and south.
It was his fancy, however, which designed the silhouette, and he soon
became aware that the herd was nearer than he had supposed. The noise
had become a continuous roar as the driven beasts came on, and he saw
them loom towards him a black patch on the dark background of the
dimly-lit prairie. The bunch was large, but his straining eyes as yet
could make no estimate of its numbers. He could see several herders, but
these, too, were as yet beyond recognition.
Yet another surprise was in store for the waiting man. So fixed had his
attention been upon the on-coming cattle that he had not once removed
his eyes from the direction of their approach. Now, however, a prolonged
bellow to the right of him caused him to turn abruptly. To his utter
astonishment he saw, not fifty yards from him, a solitary horseman
leading a couple of steers by ropes affixed to their horns. He wondered
how long this strange apparition had been there. The horse was calmly
nibbling at the grass, and the man was quietly resting himself with
elbows propped upon the horn of his saddle. He, too, appeared to be
gazing in the direction of the on-coming cattle. Horrocks tried hard to
distinguish the man's appearance, but the light was too uncertain to
give him more than the vaguest idea of his personality.
The horse seemed to be black or very dark brown. And the general outline
of the rider was that of a short slight man, with rather long hair which
flowed from beneath the brim of his Stetson hat. The most curious
distinguishable feature was his slightness. The horse was big and the
man, was so small that, as he sat astride of his charger, he looked to
be little more than a boy of fifteen or sixteen.
Horrocks's survey was cut short, however, for now the herd of cattle was
tearing down upon him at a desperate racing pace. He saw the solitary
rider gather up his lines and move his horse further away from the edge
of the muskeg. Then the herd of cattle came along. They raced past the
bluff where the officer was stationed, accompanied by four swarthy
drivers, one of which was mounted upon a great chestnut horse whose
magnificent stride and proportions fixed the captive's attention. He had
heard of "Golden Eagle," and he had no doubt in his mind that this was
he and the rider was the celebrated cattle-thief. The band and its
drovers swept by, and Horrocks estimated that the cattle numbered many
hundreds.
After awhile he heard the sound of voices. Then the beasts were driven
back again over their tracks, only at a more gentle pace. Several times
the performance was gone through, and each time, as they passed him,
Horrocks noticed that their pace was decreased, until by the sixth time
they passed their gait had become a simple mouche, and they leisurely
nipped up the grass as they went, with bovine unconcern. It was a
masterly display of how cattle can be handled, and Horrocks forgot for a
while his other troubles in his interest in the spectacle.
After passing him for the sixth time the cattle came to a halt; and then
the strangest part of this strange scene was enacted. The horseman with
the led steers, whom, by this time, Horrocks had almost forgotten, came
leisurely upon the field of action. No instructions were given. The
whole thing was done in almost absolute silence. It seemed as if long
practice had perfected the method of procedure.
The horseman advanced to the brink of the muskeg, exactly opposite to
the bluff where the captive was tied, and with him the two led steers.
Horrocks held his breath--his excitement was intense. The swarthy
drivers roused the tired cattle and headed them towards the captive
steers. Horrocks saw the boyish rider urge his horse fearlessly on to
the treacherous surface of the keg. The now docile and exhausted cattle
followed leisurely. There was no undue bustle or haste. It was a
veritable "follow my leader." Where it was good enough for the captive
leaders to go it was good enough for the weary beasts to follow, and so,
as the boy rider moved forward, the great herd followed in twos and
threes. The four drivers remained until the end, and then, as the last
steer set foot on the dreadful mire, they too joined in the silent
procession.
Horrocks exerted all his prairie instinct as he watched the course of
that silent band. He was committing to memory, as far as he was capable,
the direction of the path across the keg, for, when opportunity offered,
he was determined to follow up his discovery and attempt the journey
himself. He fancied in his own secret heart that Retief had at last
overreached himself, and in thus giving away his secret he was paving
the way to his own capture.
It was not long before the cattle and their drivers passed out of sight,
but Horrocks continued to watch, so that he should lose no chance detail
of interest. At length, however, he found that his straining gaze was
useless, and all further interest passed out of his lonely vigil.
Now he busied himself with plans for his future movements, when he
should once more be free. And in such thought the long night passed, and
the time drew on towards dawn.
The surprises of the night were not yet over, however, for just before
the first streaks of daylight shot athwart the eastern sky he saw two
horsemen returning across the muskeg. He quickly recognized them as
being the raider himself and the boyish rider who had led the cattle
across the mire. They came across at a good pace, and as they reached
the bank the officer was disgusted to see the boy ride off in a
direction away from the settlement, and the raider come straight towards
the bluff. Horrocks was curious about the boy who seemed so conversant
with the path across the mire, and was anxious to have obtained a
clearer view of him.
The raider drew his horse up within a few yards of the captive. Horrocks
had a good view of the man's commanding, eagle face. In spite of himself
he could not help but feel a strange admiration for this lawless Breed.
There was something wonderfully fascinating and lofty in the hustler's
direct, piercing gaze as, proudly disdainful, he looked down upon his
discomfited prisoner.
He seemed in no hurry to speak. A shadowy smile hovered about his face
as he eyed the officer. Then he turned away and looked over to the
eastern horizon. He turned back again and drawled out a greeting. It was
not cordial but it was characteristic of him.
"Wal?"
Horrocks made no reply. The Breed laughed mockingly, and leant forward
upon the horn of his saddle.
"Guess you've satisfied your curiosity--some. Say, the boys didn't
handle you too rough, I take it. I told 'em to go light."
Horrocks was constrained to retort.
"Not so rough as you'll be handled when you get the law about you."
"Now I call that unfriendly. Guess them's gopher's words. But say, pard,
the law ain't got me yet. Wot d'ye think of the road across the keg?
Mighty fine trail that." He laughed as though enjoying a good joke.
Horrocks felt that he must terminate this interview. The Breed had a
most provoking way with him. His self-satisfaction annoyed his hearer.
"How much longer do you intend to keep me here?" Horrocks exclaimed
bitterly. "I suppose you mean murder; you'd better get on with it and
stop gassing. Men of your kidney don't generally take so much time over
that sort of business."
Retief seemed quite unruffled.
"Murder? Why, man, I didn't bring you here to murder you. Guess ef I'd a
notion that way you'd 'a' been done neat long ago. No, I jest wanted to
show you what you wanted to find out. Now I'm goin' to let you go, so
you, an' that skunk Lablache'll be able to chin-wag over this night's
doin's. That's wot I'm here fer right now."
As he finished speaking the Breed circled Golden Eagle round behind the
tree, and, bending low down from the saddle, he cut the rope which held
the policeman's wrists. Horrocks, feeling himself freed, stepped quickly
from the bush into the open, and faced about towards his liberator. As
he did so he found himself looking up into the muzzle of Retief's
revolver. He stood his ground unflinchingly.
"Now, see hyar, pard," said Retief, quietly, "I've a mighty fine respect
for you. You ain't the cuckoo that many o' yer mates is. You've got
grit, anyway. But that ain't all you need. 'Savee's' a mighty fine
thing--on occasions. Now you need 'Savee.' I'll jest give yer a piece of
advice right hyar. You go straight off down to Lablache's ranch. You'll
find him thar. An' pesky uncomfortable you'll find him. You ken set him
free, also his ranch boys, an' when you've done that jest make tracks
for Stormy Cloud an' don't draw rein till you git thar. Ef ever you see
Retief on one trail, jest hit right off on to another. That's good sound
sense right through fur you. Say, work on that, an' you ain't like to
come to no harm. But I swear, right hyar, ef you an' me ever come to
close quarters I'll perforate you--'less you git the drop on me. An' to
do that'll keep you humpin'. So long, pard. It's jest gettin' daylight,
ah' I don't calc'late to slouch around hyar when the sun's shinin'.
Don't go fur to forget my advice. I don't charge nothin' fur it, but
it's good, pard--real good, for all that. So long."
He swung his horse round, and before Horrocks had time to collect
himself, much less to speak, he was almost out of sight.
Half dazed and still wondering at the strangeness of the desperate
Breed's manner he mechanically began to walk slowly in the direction of
the Foss River Settlement.