INVISIBLE DANGER
Alcatraz, cresting the hill, warned the mares with a snort. One by one
the bays brought up their beautiful heads to attention but the grey,
as was her custom in moments of crisis or indecision, trotted forward
to the side of the leader and glanced over the rolling lands below.
Her decision was instant and decisive. She shook her head and turning
to the side, she started down the left slope at a trot. Alcatraz
called her back with another snort. He knew, as well as she did, the
meaning of that faint odor on the east wind: it was man, unmistakably
the great enemy; but during five days that scent had hung steadily
here and yet, over all the miles which he could survey there was no
sign of a man nor any places where man could be concealed. There was
not a tree; there was not a fallen log; there was not a stump; there
was not a rock of such respectable dimensions that even a rabbit would
dare to seek shelter behind it. Still, mysteriously, the scent of man
was there.
Alcatraz stamped with impatience and when the grey whinnied he merely
shook his head angrily in answer. It irritated him to have her always
right, always cautious, and besides he felt somewhat shamed by the
necessity of using her as a court of last appeal. To be sure, he was a
keener judge of the sights and scents of the mountain desert than any
of the half-bred mares but though he lived to fifty years he would
never approach the stored wisdom, the uncanny acuteness of eye, ear,
and nostril of the wild grey. Her view-point seemed, at times, that of
the high-sailing buzzards, for she guessed, miles and miles away, what
water-holes were dry and what "tanks" brimmed with water; what trails
were broken by landslides since they had last been travelled and where
new trails might be found or made; when it was wise to seek shelter
because a sand-storm was brewing; where the grass grew thickest and
most succulent on far-off hillsides; and so on and on the treasury of
her knowledge could be delved in inexhaustibly.
On only one point did he feel that his cleverness might rival hers and
that point was the most important of all--man the Great Destroyer. She
knew him only from a distance whereas had not Alcatraz breathed that
dreaded scent close at hand? Had he not on one unforgetable occasion
felt the soft flesh turn to pulp beneath his stamping feet, and heard
the breaking of bones? His nostrils distended at the memory and again
he searched the lowlands.
No, there was not a shadow of a place where man might be concealed and
that scent could be nothing but a snare and an illusion. To be sure
there were other ways hardly less convenient to the waterhole, but why
should he be turned from the easiest way day after day because of this
unbodied warning? He started down the slope.
It brought the grey after him, neighing wildly, but though she circled
around him at full speed time after time, he would not pause, and when
she attempted to block him he raised his head and pushed her away with
the resistless urge of breast and shoulders. At that she attempted no
more forceful persuasion but fell in behind him, still pausing from
time to time to send her mournfully persuasive whinny after the
obdurate leader until even the bays, usually so blindly docile, grew
alarmed and fell back to a huddled grouping half way between Alcatraz
and the trailing grey. It touched his pride sharply, this division of
their trust. Twice he slackened his lope and called to them to hasten
and when they responded with only a faint-hearted trot he was forced
to mask his impatience. Coming to a walk he cropped imaginary grasses
from time to time and so induced the others to draw nearer.
It was slow work going down the hollow in this way, and hot work, too,
but though he often glanced up yearningly towards the wooded hills
beyond, he kept to his pretense of carelessness and so managed to hold
the mares in a close-bunched group behind him. In the meantime the
scent grew stronger, closer to the ground on that east wind. Time and
again he raised his head and stared earnestly, but it was impossible
for any living creature to stalk within hundreds of yards of him
without being seen--whereas that scent spoke of one almost within
leaping distance. Once it seemed to his excited imagination--as he
lowered his head to sniff at a tuft of dead grasses--that he heard the
sound of human breathing.
He snorted the foolish thought into nothingness and after a glance
back to make sure that his companions followed, he resolutely stepped
out into the very heart of the man-scent. So closely was that phantom
located by the sense of smell that it seemed to Alcatraz he could see
the exact spot on the hillside behind a small rock where the ghost
must lie. Yet he disdained to flee from empty air and for all his
beating heart he raised his head and walked sedately on. The danger
spot was drifting past on his left when a squeal of fear from the
wild grey far in the rear made Alcatraz leap sidewise with catlike
suddenness.
Growing by magic from the sand behind the little rock the head and
shoulders of a man appeared, his shadow pouring down the sun-whitened
slope. In his hand he swung a rapidly lengthening loop of rope and as
his arm went back it knocked off the fellow's hat and exposed a shock
of red hair. So much Alcatraz saw while the paralysis of fear locked
every joint for the tenth part of a second, and deeply as he dreaded
the apparition itself he dreaded more the whipping circle of rope.
For had he not seen the dead thing become alive and snakelike in the
skilled hand of Manuel Cordova? The freezing terror relaxed; the sand
crunched away under the drive of his rear hoofs as he flung himself
forward--with firm footing to aid he would have slid from beneath the
flying danger, but as it was he heard the live rope whisper in the air
above his head.
He landed on stiff legs, checked his forward impetus and flung
sidewise. On solid footing he would have dodged successfully; as it
was the noose barely clipped past his ear.
As the rope touched his neck, it seemed to Alcatraz that every wound
dealt him by the hand of man was suddenly aching and bleeding again,
the skin along his flanks quivered where the spurs of Cordova had
driven home time and again, and on shoulders and belly and hips
there were burning stripes where the quirt had raised its wale. Most
horrible of all, in his mouth came the taste of iron and his own blood
where the Spanish bit had wrenched his jaws apart. Out of the old days
he might have remembered the first and bitterest lesson--that it is
folly to pull against a rope--but now he saw nothing save the fleeing
forms of the seven mares and his own freedom vanishing with them. In
his mid-leap the lariat hummed taut, sank in a burning circle into
the flesh at the base of his neck, and he was flung to the ground. No
man's power could have stopped him so short; the cunning enemy had
turned a half-hitch around the top of that deep-rooted rock.
He landed, not inert, but shocked out of hysteria into all his old
cunning--that wily savagery which had kept Cordova in fear, ten-fold
more terrible since the free life had clothed him with his full
strength. The very impetus of his fall he used to help him whirl to
his feet, and as he rose he knew what he must do. To struggle against
the tools of man was always madness and brought only pain as a result;
like a good general he determined to end the battle by getting at the
root of the enemy's fire, and wheeling on his hind legs he charged Red
Perris.
The first leap revealed the mystery of the man's appearance. Behind
this rock, which was barely sufficient shelter for his head, he had
excavated a pit sufficient to shelter his crouching body and the sand
which he removed for this purpose had been spread evenly over the
slope so that no suspicion might be created in the most watchful eye.
He had sprung from his concealment and was now working to loosen the
half-hitch from the rock. As the knot came free Alcatraz was turning
and now Perris faced the charge with the rope caught in his hand. What
could he do? There was only one thing, and the stallion saw the heavy
revolver bared and levelled at him, a flickering bit of metal. He knew
well what it meant but there was no hope save to rush on; another
stride and he would be on that frail creature, tearing with his teeth
and crushing with his hoofs. And then a miracle happened. The revolver
was flung aside, a gleaming arc and a splash of sand where it struck;
Red Perris preferred to risk his life rather than end the battle
before it was well begun with a bullet. He crouched over the rope
as though he had braced himself to meet the shock of the charging
stallion. But that was not his purpose. As the stallion rushed on him
he darted to one side and the fore hoof with which Alcatraz struck
merely slashed his shirt down the back.
A feint had saved him, but Alcatraz was no bull to charge blindly
twice. He checked himself so abruptly that he knocked up a shower
of sand, and he turned savagely out of that dust-cloud to end the
struggle. Yet this small, mad creature stood his ground, showed no
inclination to flee. With the rope he was doing strange things, making
it spin in swift spirals, close to the ground. Let him do what he
would, his days were ended. Alcatraz bared his teeth, laid back his
ears, and lunged again. Another miracle! As his forefeet struck
the ground in the midst of one of those wide circles of rope, the
red-headed man lunged back, the circle jumped like a living thing and
coiled itself around both forefeet, between fetlock and hoof. When he
attempted the next leap his front legs crumbled beneath him. At the
very feet of Red Perris he plunged into the sand.
Once more he whirled to regain his lost footing, but as he turned on
his back the rope twisted and whispered above him; the off hind leg
was noosed, and then the near one--Alcatraz lay on his side straining
and snorting but utterly helpless.
Of a sudden he ceased all struggle. About neck and all four hoofs was
the burning grip of the rope, so bitterly familiar, and man had once
again enslaved him. Alcatraz relaxed. Presently there would come a
swift volley of curses, then the whir and cut of the whip--no, for a
great occasion such as this the man would choose a large and durable
club and beat him across the ribs. Why not? Even as he had served
Cordova this man of the flaming hair would now serve him. He was very
like Cordova in one thing. He did not hurry, but first picked up his
revolver and replaced it in its holster, having blown the sand from
the mechanism as well as he could. Then he put on his fallen hat and
stood back with his hands dropped on his hips and eyed the captive.
For the first time he spoke, and Alcatraz shuddered at the sound of a
voice well-nigh as smooth as that of Cordova, with the same well-known
ring of fierce exultation.
"God A'mighty, God A'mighty! They can't be no hoss like this! Jim,
you're dreaming. Rub your fool eyes and wake up!"
He began to walk in a circle about his victim, and Alcatraz shuddered
when the conqueror came behind him. That had been Cordova's way--to
come to a place where he could not be seen and then strike cruelly and
by surprise. To his unspeakable astonishment, Perris presently leaned
over him--and then deliberately sat down on the shoulder of the
chestnut. Two thoughts flashed through the mind of the stallion; he
might heave himself over by a convulsive effort and attempt to crush
this insolent devil; or he might jerk his head around and catch Perris
with his teeth. A third and better thought, however, immediately
followed--that bound as he was he would have little chance to reach
this elusive will-o'-the-wisp. He could not repress a quiver of horror
and anger, but beyond that he did not stir.
Other liberties were being taken; Cordova in his maddest moments would
not have dared so much. Down the long muscles of his shoulder and
upper foreleg went curious and gently prying finger-tips, and where
they passed a tingling sensation followed, not altogether unpleasant.
Again beginning on his neck the hand trailed down beneath his mane and
at the same time the voice was murmuring: "Oh beauty! Oh beauty!"
The heart of Alcatraz swelled. He had felt his first caress.