“I’ve a hunch, Micky. Give me them shells loaded with number sevens.
This ain’t no buckshot party.”
“Ah! Thank goodness, the barrier is removed!” exclaimed Middleton, and
I heard the chain fall.
Middleton gave the gate a shove, and it creaked open.
“Sic ’em, Shep!” cried a voice.
It is likely that the dog misunderstood orders, as I feel sure that
its master meant us when he said “’em,” but the dog circled us and
went through the fence after the sheep.
“Run!” exclaimed Middleton. “They’re coming out!”
Middleton was right.
Just at that moment one of those sheep tried to go between my legs. It
was a large one—too large, in fact. I grasped it with one hand,
quickly, holding my gun in the other, and attempted to ride it away,
but it sprang for a place where all of the fence was missing except
for a barbarous wire stretched along the top; and I went backward into
the dirt.
I managed to roll over and get to my hands and knees just in time to
be struck a murderous blow from the rear, which projected me under the
wire and outside the fence. There may have been other openings in that
fence, but I will wager that a large per cent. of those sheep came
through there and walked over me. After the procession of sharp hoofs
had passed me I crawled back and recovered my gun. I had no idea of
where Middleton had gone. In fact I don’t believe I gave him a
thought.
I got to my feet and limped away, feeling rather dazed, as a man might
feel after being hard hit, as it were. I toiled up the side of a hill,
and suddenly I discerned Middleton. I knew him by the silhouette of
his hat against the sky.
“Thank goodness, I have found you!” I exclaimed.
“Same to you,” he replied; and it was not Middleton’s voice but the
voice of the party who suggested the banshee.
I saw the glisten of his gun as he turned. I don’t know what prompted
me to do it, but I leveled my gun and pulled the trigger.
The roar deafened me and the concussion hurled me backward, but I had
presence of mind enough to crawl away. Suddenly I fell into a
depression, where I lay quiet.
“Hey!” cried a voice. “Was that you, Micky?”
“It was—worse luck to me, Sandy!”
“Was it a shepherd?”
“I won’t swear to nothing until I assay meself, but from the feel of
me I’d say it was a duck-hunter. Ouch! The divil blazed away at sixty
feet, and almost cut the boots off me legs! Bird-shot be the handful!”
“Which way did he go, Micky?”
“How should I know? I always hides me head in a storm of bird-shot.”
“Where in thunder did you get that hard hat?”
“Down be the corral. Did you ever know a shepherd to wear a baked
bonnet before, Sandy?”
They talked in low tones for a few moments, and then I heard the one
called Sandy say:
“Well, they’re well scattered, and there’s no use hunting in the dark.
Next time we’ll pack Winchesters when them —— woollies cross the
Mesquite.”
“Sure, and I’ll wear armor next time I hunt for hard-hatted shepherds
in the night time,” replied the other, and their voices died away into
the night.
I managed to clamber out of the hole, suffering extreme torture all
the while. I had not the slightest idea of direction; in fact I seemed
to be lost. At any rate I climbed the hill, went down the other side
and then climbed another, where I sat down on a rock.
It was very, very quiet up there. Finally a dog came along. I tried to
be friendly, but it slunk away at my whistle. Then another one came;
and another. I said to myself—
“Pettingill, there must be kennels near here.”
From a distant butte, against the pale light of the moon, I saw
several more, and then came a wailing howl. From near me came a
blood-curdling answer. I said to myself—
“Pettingill, those ‘dogs’ are wolves!” The realization was painful. I
really believe I grew homesick. In all that waste I could not see a
tree. I peered around. Ah! On a not too distant ridge stood a tree.
I stood erect, grasped my gun, and hurried up the slope, spurred
onward by the howls of at least a million savage throats. Perhaps it
was undignified, but I ran; actually ran. Luckily the branches grew
low, and I was able, suffering as I was, to climb into the sanctuary
of those thick branches. I breathed a sigh of relief, and exclaimed
aloud—
“Thank Heaven for this tree!”