AT WASHOUT COULIE.
"Is it very far we have to go for our herd, Ned?" asked Jimmy, as he
galloped along briskly at the side of his chum, managing the calico
pony pretty fairly for one who had never been used to range riding and
knew very little about the tricks of cow ponies.
"Yes, I believe further than any others of the lot," Ned told him.
"I heard some mention of a Washout Coulie; is that where we're headin'
right now; and why d'ye reckon they give it such a funny name?" Jimmy
continued.
"We're making for a place of that name, I understood Chunky to say,"
the accommodating scout master replied, "and he spoke as though their
best herd might be using that section for a feeding ground just now;
but why they call it Washout Coulie, I'm unable to say."
"A coulie is always connected with some sort of hill, isn't it, Ned?"
"Strikes me that way, Jimmy, and, as you know there _are_ hills over
this way, for we could see them when we came from the west and struck
the ranch. It might be the name came from a washout that happened some
time ago. They don't get much rain in this region, but once in a long
time there's a regular cloudburst and a flood."
Jimmy might have tried to keep the conversation going, for there were a
number of things he wanted to ask the scout master; but it happened
that the obstreperous calico pony developed a streak of ugliness just
about that time and, consequently, Jimmy had all he could do to manage
the beast so as to keep his seat in the cowboy saddle.
The sun had set shortly after they started away from the ranch, and the
sky took on the brightest red colors that could be imagined. But
neither of the boys felt in a humor to admire the view. They had
business on their hands of a nature to engross their every
thought--Jimmy, with the control of his vicious mottle mount; and Ned,
in calculating what the ill-natured suspect might attempt, in order to
outwit those who were pitted against him.
Night settles down promptly after sunset in this far southern country,
there being very little gloaming, such as people living in more
northern latitudes are accustomed to. But as the moon was due to peep
above the eastern horizon in short time this was not apt to give them
any trouble.
Besides, Chunky and his riders knew every rod of the plain and could
easily avoid such places, where the prairie dogs had their underground
homes and which have been the means of breaking the legs of many
valuable horses.
Ned had already noticed how careful Chunky was to keep in a certain
position on the gallop. Here he could watch Sloper and at the same time
be ready to draw quickly upon him should the suspect attempt any
crooked business.
"He doesn't trust the man any further than he can see him," Ned was
telling himself, as he noticed this game that was being played between
the two men; and, at the same time, he meant to try and keep his own
eye on the slippery customer, in so far as the conditions would allow.
The evening star shone in the western sky and they were making in a
straight line away from it, Ned noticed. This told him what the course
was. While Jimmy was apparently paying not the least attention to such
things, content to trust himself in the hands of the puncher guide, Ned
believed in knowing for himself. There might arise an occasion where he
would be thrown on his own resources; and, in such an event, it would
be a valuable asset to know just which way to head, in order to fetch
up at the ranch house.
That was scout tactics and scout practice--being prepared against
possible need.
And now over the low rim in the far east, where the squatty hills lay
against the sky line, a yellow glow began to appear. It was the moon
rising to fulfill a night's vigil as sentinel while men slept.
Ned greeted it as an old friend, and Jimmy, too, expressed his
satisfaction over seeing it come upon the scene, for Jimmy and darkness
never did agree, and that was one reason he always wanted to keep the
fire burning through the night while in camp, during the period when
there was no moon.
As they drew closer to the hills, Ned began to calculate just about how
many miles they would have to drive the herd once they managed to round
it up and get it on the run for home. He knew from what he had been
told that what had taken them not more than an hour to cover, as the
crow flies, would mean at least four times that length of time with the
cattle.
Perhaps, they would not be in until midnight had come and gone. And who
could say what might not happen in the long interval.
He wondered how far the rustlers were ready to go, in order to run off
a herd that had excited their cupidity and, whether in case they
happened to come up while the punchers were busily engaged, they might
not attempt something like a stampede, hoping to frighten the few
cowboys off, when they could make way with the cattle.
"I'm glad we brought our rifles along with us," Ned was telling
himself, as he studied out these things and tried to imagine what it
would seem like to actually find himself engaged in a regular battle
with cattle thieves.
He urged his pony forward enough to bring him close to Chunky.
"How much further do we have to go, Chunky?" Ned inquired.
"Be there in about ten minutes or so," came the reply. "Gotter kinder
sheer off a bit hereabouts on 'count of them ornery marmots what makes
it unsafe for a pony to run over their holes. Been tryin' to clean this
village out a long time, but they seem too smart for the hull lot o'
us. If so be ye wanter practice usin' a rifle ye'll find plenty to
shoot at in knockin' these little runts over; and do the stockmen a big
favor in the bargin."
"We'll remember that," Ned told him, though he rather fancied that
during their stay at Double Cross Ranch he and his three chums would
want to do most of their hunting for larger game than poor little
harmless prairie dogs.
Jimmy had forged ahead slightly, or rather his impatient and ambitious
mount had taken the bit in its mouth and pulled a little harder than
usual. It may have been accident, but to Ned it seemed as though Ally
Sloper must have some vicious idea in his mind when he suddenly flung
his quirt vigorously out, apparently intending to give his own pony a
cruel cut, and then struck the calico mount ridden by Jimmy.
Perhaps he thought to create a little excitement if the beast ran away
with its rider, during which he might find a chance to slip off
unobserved. Ned, as quick as a flash, dug his heels into his own pony,
and was alongside Jimmy almost as soon as the spotted beast started to
leap wildly forward under the impetus of that blow from the quirt,
something he had never stood for in the past.
When he bent down and seized hold of the bridle close to the pony's
mouth Ned was uttering soothing words. Between his efforts and those of
the rider, the pony was kept from bolting, though it snorted and acted
ugly.
"I'm afraid you'll have to pay dear for picking out that calico nag,
Jimmy," Ned told his chum, when they were riding along side by side
after the little matter had been settled for the time being.
"'Tis too late to make any difference," replied the other scout; "and
do you remember tellin' me once that it's no time to change mounts when
crossin' a stream? Now that I've started on this painted pony I'll
stick to the same through good winds and foul. If the little cayuse c'n
dump me, he's welcome to try, that's all."
Evidently Jimmy's old stubborn nature was on deck again. He did hate to
give anything up the worst kind; though he admitted that there were
some exceptions to this rule and one of them was whenever he found
himself on a sickening heaving sea.
"I hope the cattle will be found feedin' in the place they called a
coulie?" Jimmy went on to say a minute later, as he strove earnestly to
make out the conformation of the low hills they were approaching.
Now Ned had just been wondering on his own account what Chunky expected
to do in case the herd had wandered away. Would he start to follow
them, making use of his training as a tracker in order to stick to the
trail the animals would have left behind them?
Ned believed so. He had studied the lanky puncher well, and found
evidences of great pertinacity in his make-up. Chunky would not be the
one to quit easily. On the contrary, Ned felt positive he would keep
moving if it took the remainder of that night.
"Chances are they'll not wander far away, Jimmy," he told the other
scout, who was evidently beginning to cross bridges before he came to
them, as was his habit, and so attempt more or less unnecessary work.
"But I don't hear any signs of the critters, do you, Ned?" continued
Jimmy.
"Why no, and you couldn't hardly expect to, what with all the noise
we're making," Ned replied, shortly; "though the wind is coming almost
in our faces, and seems like we might hear if a bull bellowed. But
leave all that to Chunky. He knows what to do, Jimmy. Just look out for
your pony, and keep close by; that's all you've got to do."
Gradually the hills assumed more shape, and they could even make out
the trees that covered their sides in most quarters.
"That dark place ahead must be the coulie opening," Ned suggested.
"Just what it is," replied the lanky rider, "You foller it up a ways
and all of a sudden-like you drop in on one of the finest little
valleys that cattle ever nosed about in, knee-high in grass that ain't
the buffalo stripe neither, and with a fine spring that sends its water
down the hull place. We ain't got anythin' ekal to it for a harbor for
cattle this side o' the Colorado. That's why we turned our prize herd
in here, to pick up a little fat before the Kunnel he ships the same
off to a show."
That was quite a long talk for Chunky to make. He was a man of few
words as a rule and bit his sentences off as though it pained him to
run on for any great length of time.
Ned understood. And he was glad that he had come with the man who was
now temporarily in charge of Double Cross Ranch. Where Chunky happened
to be things were more apt to take place than elsewhere.
Now it was very likely that the waiting rustlers must have known all
about this unusually fine herd. Even if they had failed to locate it on
their own account, while galloping around the country, Ally Sloper
would have put them wise.
If they were figuring on making way with any portion of the Double
Cross property shortly, it stood to reason that they would turn their
attention first of all to this valuable drove.
The moon had risen above the horizon and was pouring a flood of light
upon the scene. Ned could not remember when it had appeared more
radiant. He fancied that they would have very little trouble in making
the round-up and drive, if only nothing happened to break up their well
laid plans.
No doubt when they had arrived at the bottom of the coulie Chunky would
order a short halt, in order to let the ponies get their wind again.
And during that time they could be using their ears to catch any sounds
that might come from up the gully, such as the mooing of cows that had
calves, the bellowing of a bull, or the clashing as horns beat against
horns in a fierce fight for possession.
Sloper was still in line. He had not turned his face once toward Chunky
since starting from the ranch, and it was natural that he should be
laboring under a high tension, possibly arranging scheme after scheme,
only to cast them away when he discovered weak points.
Ned believed the fellow was only waiting to see what circumstances
would do for him; and he felt that should the opening come he would be
as quick as a flash to avail himself of it.
Well, here they were now at the foot of the hills, and apparently their
fast gallop must be near its end. Jimmy would not be sorry. He was sore
with being bounced about in that hard saddle, though no one could have
forced him to admit that he was having anything but a glorious time.
But Jimmy was always full of grit, and disdained to call for help
unless it could not possibly be avoided. He would master that fancy
calico pony, or know the reason why.
"Hold up!"
When Chunky called this out every one drew rein. They were undoubtedly
in the mouth of a coulie, which was merely a gully through which at
various times in the ages that had passed floods had swept down the
side of the hills, and following a set course washed this bed clear.
Later on bushes and even trees had managed to obtain a foothold and
seemed to thrive.
The horses were breathing heavily, as the six riders sat in their
saddles and listened eagerly to catch any sounds that might come down
from the feeding plateau above.
There was no lack of noise, as the two scouts quickly understood. And
if cattle made all those sounds while feeding Ned wondered what it
would be under stress of excitement and panic, when stampeded by a
storm, or from some other cause.
He could hear much trampling, low bellowing, the mooing of cows fearful
lest they be separated from their calves, and a confusion of other
sounds of which, being more or less of a greenhorn on the range, he
could make nothing.
But it was different with Chunky and the other punchers. Their trained
ears, accustomed to detecting even uneasiness in feeding stock, and
guessing the cause, instantly picked up several things that told them
the startling truth.
When Ned himself plainly heard the neigh of an excited horse, and then
what appeared to be a half suppressed shout, he jumped to a sudden
conclusion that very nearly took his breath away.
Something not down on the hills was certainly going on up there, where
the prize herd fed. There were men there and they were stirring up the
cattle, for the snap of whips could be heard together with various
other sounds such as Ned fancied might accompany the start of a drive.
He could give a pretty good guess what it all meant, and did not have
to wait for Chunky to pass the information along. Some other persons
besides themselves had taken a notion to start a round-up that was not
ordered, and right then were busily engaged in getting things moving.
Apparently the punchers had not arrived any too soon, for the rustlers
were undoubtedly abroad; and had the range riders been delayed another
half hour they must have arrived at Washout Coulie to find the feeding
grounds bare, and discover that the herd had mysteriously vanished!