THE THUNDER BIRD ATTACKS
Thinking that experience was the best teacher, Hawke decided to
discontinue lessons on aviation until the materials for the biplane
arrived and they could begin actual work.
During the rest of the week, therefore, the boys, with the assistance of
Captain Crawford, Dr. Rivers and the aviator, put in their time
mastering some of the Boy Scout requirements.
They organized a bucket brigade, and, by several mock fire fights fitted
themselves to take care of a blaze should one occur at any time.
"That's what we've been needing at this fort for a long time," remarked
Captain Crawford, when he saw the young fire fighters practicing. "In
case of a fire here we'd have to depend on the volunteer bunch at Silver
City, and everything would be up in smoke before they could get here."
Dr. Rivers gave the young scouts a thorough drilling in first aid to the
injured. In his laboratory, which was a large and heretofore mysterious
room at the top of the house, he taught them many things which they did
not know about the human body and its needs in case of accident--how to
construct an emergency stretcher, prepare splints, roll and apply
bandages, and stop the flow of blood from an artery by means of the
tourniquet.
"I guess I'm beginning to know something," said Jerry, a little proudly,
when they left the doctor's office just at dark Friday evening after an
interesting lesson.
"I got real well acquainted with that handsome skeleton," remarked Gray,
who had been a little sensitive at first about approaching the uncanny
bony structure which Dr. Rivers called one of the "ornaments" of his
experimenting room.
Although Herb and Tender were urged to remain at the Crawford's for
supper, the former thought it best to go on home.
"I can't be very long away from dad," he explained, "or he has a search
party out after me."
"I didn't realize how much this Boy Scout affair was going to do for
you," observed the captain that night at the supper table, when Jerry
and Fred had been relating their new accomplishments. "I was a little
skeptical at first--thought it was a waste of time--but I'm getting
pretty much interested in it now myself."
"I think it is a splendid idea," agreed Mrs. Windham, who, mother-like,
was in favor of anything that safeguarded the interest and welfare of
her boy.
"And his aeroplane stunt strikes me as pretty fine," went on Jerry's
father. "As a whole, this vacation is doing more for you boys than a
year of schooling, and--" he was interrupted by the ringing of the
telephone bell.
"Hello--Phipps, yes, this is Crawford," they heard him say. "What's
that? Well, that's strange. Oh, I don't think it can be anything
serious. The doctor is not at the house? Gone to Silver City? Well,
we'll start right out."
"What is it?" cried Mrs. Crawford, as the group at the table arose and
surrounded the captain.
"Phipps says Herb's horse came home alone, wounded in the back. He's
afraid something has happened to him and Graystock. Thinks it may be
that thing that's killing the sheep--or thieving Greasers," explained
captain, speaking hurriedly, at the same time putting on his hat and
ringing for the maid.
"Tell Ike to get the horses and saddle them at once--three of them," he
ordered when the servant appeared. "Tell him to stop and get Carlito,
and have them all here as soon as possible."
"Come on, boys--Phipps says he's just starting. He says he telephoned
for Dr. Rivers but he isn't home. What'll we do in case either of them
is badly hurt?"
"We fellows ought to put our learning into practice," spoke up Fred at
once.
"Yes, we'll take our emergency kits," said Jerry.
"I doubt if you can do anything," replied the captain, as they left the
house. "You haven't had any practical experience yet."
"We'll do anything we can for Herb," responded Jerry warmly.
"Why not get Dunk?" suggested Fred. "He was the best of the bunch, his
father being a doctor."
"All right," agreed the captain, swinging into his saddle, just as
Carlito dashed up.
"What's the matter?" he asked, breathlessly.
They told him the situation in a few words.
"I'll go right on," he exclaimed, digging his heels into the pony's
flanks.
On the way over to the Rivers' residence, the captain and the boys met
Dunk and Fly mounted on their horses. Mr. Phipps' telephone message for
the doctor had told them the news.
"Well, if anything's the matter," said the doctor's son, "both of them
have their Red Cross materials with them, if they're able to use them.
You go on ahead," he added. "Fly and I are going to bring that stretcher
we made to-day, and some bandages and stuff. We'll be right along."
The two boys wheeled their ponies, and the rest of the party galloped
into the darkness after Carl.
It was an unusually dark night, and very few stars relieved the dense
blackness overhead. Fortunately, the riders were familiar with their
road, or it would have been impossible for them to keep up the pace they
did.
"Carl'll be sure to find them if they're anywheres along here," said
Fred, breathlessly, when they were obliged to slow up at a particularly
rough place.
They urged on their horses again, and for a time nothing was heard
through the moonless silence of the night but the sound of hurrying
hoofs and the croaking of the frogs as they vied with the monotonous
singsong of the crickets. Occasionally, from somewhere far out on the
prairies, a lonesome coyote would wail dismally.
After about a half hour of riding, the party on horseback descried
through the darkness a glimmering light almost in the center of the
road. As they came nearer, Jerry blew his whistle.
"We're here," came the answer.
"That's Phipps." The captain breathed a sigh of relief.
"He's not badly hurt," Carlito was saying as they drew up to where the
Indian and Tender Gray were bending over Herb, bandaging his arm while
the father held the boy's hand.
"I'll be all right," faintly assured Herb. "Don't you--" but his voice
trailed off into silence, and the upraised arm grew limp.
"Here, I brought some ammonia," exclaimed Fred, springing forward, and
placing a small bottle to Herb's nostrils, while Gray and Carl rubbed
his arms and legs vigorously.
"I wish we had a stretcher," exclaimed Mr. Phipps, his voice shaking
with anxiety.
"Dunk and Fly are coming along with one," responded the captain.
"Thank heaven for that," exclaimed the rancher gratefully. "Carl
snatched some branches off of the trees coming along," he continued "and
made some splints on the run." He laid his hand affectionately on the
Indian's bent shoulders.
A few moments later Dunk and Fly came up, bearing a stretcher between
them. Riding had been rather difficult with this clumsy load.
It was not long before Herb was comfortably stretched out on the
improvised bed, and, resuscitated by the liberal whiffs of ammonia which
Fred faithfully applied, and the constant massage, he soon opened his
eyes and smiled, as a sign that he had regained consciousness.
"It's mostly jolt," said Dunk, who began applying more bandages. When
the arm was well bound up, he went over Herb's body carefully in search
of more injuries.
Finding none, Mr. Phipps suggested that they start for the ranch.
Carl, Dunk, Fly and Fred immediately picked up the stretcher.
"Feeling better, son?" asked the father gently as they started off, the
four boys carrying the stretcher, while those on horseback led the
ponies.
"Better all the time," answered Herb, trying to speak firmly. While his
voice was not normal, it was stronger than when he first spoke.
"What happened anyway?" asked Fly of Tender Gray.
"All I can say is, it's just about like that time you got mixed up when
you met Windy at Silver City," answered Tender. "I didn't know anything
was wrong until I heard Herb yell, and the next minute he was thrown
from his horse, while the critter ran off like wild."
"Didn't you see anything?" urged Fred.
"It was too dark--anyhow I didn't look for anything. I got busy with
Herb," responded Gray.
"That's right," approved Mr. Phipps. "But it looks to me as if it was
the same devil that's been botherin' my sheep--horse's back is cut
pretty deep."
When they reached the ranch-house, Sing informed them that Dr. Rivers
had telephoned, and was on his way over. They had scarcely put Herb on
the bed before the doctor arrived. After listening to a hasty
explanation, he made a thorough examination of the wounded boy.
"Well, it's just a minor fracture of the forearm," he announced finally.
"Nothing serious. I'll have to set it though.
"It may hurt you a little," he warned Herb, as he removed the bandages
and splints, but, though his patient did wince once or twice, he set his
lips tightly, and did not emit a sound of complaint.
After it was all over, however, he sank back with a sigh of relief and
exhaustion. With the aid of a sleeping potion, he was soon quietly
resting.
Mr. Phipps, though relieved by the doctor's reassurance, was greatly
agitated over the accident, and continually paced the floor in the big
library, his face pale and his lips set.
"I'll be over early to-morrow," the doctor told him. "It's only a green
stick break and will soon knit. The bandaging was splendidly done--I
couldn't have put those splints on better myself," he added. "By the
way, did you do it?"
"The boys did," answered the rancher, with a faint smile, looking
affectionately around the anxious group.
"You certainly did well," said the doctor heartily. "I had some doubts
about instructing you at first, but I must admit you have profited by
your lessons wonderfully."
As there was nothing more to be done, the party from the fort prepared
to start back, the doctor going ahead with his machine.
"We've got to get that confounded animal that's causing all this
trouble," exclaimed Phipps as vigorously as his shaking voice would
permit.
"We're goin' to get him, all right!" responded Jerry heartily.
"You bet we are," reiterated Fred, with determination, while the other
boys made similar assurances.
It was a sober party that rode slowly away, and for a long time nothing
was said.
"It's so quiet to-night it makes me think of spooks," remarked Jerry,
finally breaking the silence.
"Something makes me feel queer too," said Fred.
Just then a shrill, weird inhuman shriek came from somewhere in the
direction of the mountains: "Kreee-kreee-ee," almost blood-curdling in
its penetrating sharpness, cutting through the air like a keen knife
blade, and sending unpleasant shivers down the backs of all who heard.
Again and again it came, threatening, foreboding, like some evil spirit
about to swoop upon its prey.
They listened, spellbound, thrilled in every nerve. It was not fear that
seemed to clutch at their hearts and make them pound, or that struck
them silent, it was an awing sense of something supernatural, something
not quite real. It was as though they had suddenly caught a glimpse of a
demon of the underworld.
The dread cry continued for some minutes, then gradually grew fainter,
until it seemed smothered by the intervening hills.
Before any of the party gathered courage to speak, a tall figure, like a
fleeting shadow, glided across the path in front of them, and rapidly
disappeared into the darkness. He seemed bent on an errand and was going
toward the northeast mountain ranges.
"It's the Indian," whispered Carl, as the form hurried into the
darkness.
"What do you suppose that noise was?" queried Jerry in a low tone.
"Was it a hawk?" asked Fly cautiously, crowding nearer to Carl.
"I've heard hawks cry and eagles scream, but never like that," returned
the Indian, his voice growing louder.
"What was it then?" asked Fly in a natural voice, gathering courage as
the conversation progressed.
"I never heard one, of course," replied Carl slowly, "but I think that
was the Thunder Bird."
"That's just what it was," exclaimed Dunk at once.
For some moments nobody spoke, then Carl said reflectively: "I suppose
that Indian friend of ours heard it too, and is on the trail."
"You'd better look out or he'll get it before you do," commented the
captain, who had heard of the mysterious stranger.