THE SURPRISE
Camp had been made by the boy ranchers and their friends in a little
glade, amid rocks and stunted brush, a natural fortification as it were,
with only one side open. And it was from this one side that the shots
from the ambushers were pouring in.
Though Yellin' Kid and Snake Purdee had said nothing to the boys about
it, the place had been purposely selected with an eye to its possible
defense.
"You can't tell what will happen in this country," Snake had said to
Yellin' Kid, and the latter agreed, lowering his voice, for once at
least, so Bud and his cousins could not hear.
"We've got to be on our guard," Snake had added, and so, while Bud, Nort
and Dick would have been willing to slump down almost anywhere, and camp
as soon as they found water, this secluded site was selected.
The wisdom of this was now apparent, since, had there been no natural
shelter available, several casualties might have resulted from the
opening of a fusillade at dawn.
As it was, however, so quickly had the cowboys (and with them I now
include Buck Tooth) taken to shelter, that, aside from a few minor wounds
on the part of two or three, no one was badly hit.
"What's it all about?" called Bud from behind his sheltering stone to
Snake. Bud's gun was hot, for he had emptied the magazine, and with
little effect, as was afterward learned.
"Who's attacking us?" added Nort. He, as had Dick, had also fired
rapidly and with equal non-effect.
"Search me," succinctly replied Snake. "All I know is that there's
somebody out there anxious to fill us full of lead--more anxious than I
am to be filled," he added grimly. "Lay low everybody!" he shouted, as
another burst of firing succeeded the calm that had followed the first
attack.
Bullets "zinged" in amid the rocks, striking the hard stone with vicious
"pings!" and leaving grim, gray marks on the boulders; marks that would
have brought spots of vital redness had they found a human target.
Bud refilled the magazine of his gun, and started a return fire when
Snake threw a piece of stone that fell near the boy rancher, thus
attracting his attention. There was little use in shouting above the
din. A voice could be heard only in the lulls of shooting.
"What's the matter?" yelled Bud, scarcely making himself heard.
Snake motioned for him to cease firing, an example followed by Nort and
Dick. As for the older cowboys they had wisely witheld their fire.
Explanation was made by Snake a moment later when he crawled over to Bud,
keeping well hidden amid the rocks, and speaking in his ear, though
yelling at the top of his voice as he did so, said:
"What's the use of shootin' when you can't see your mark? Save your
powder and lead!"
It was good advice. Bud could not help but laugh at the conclusion of
Snake's advice. For the cowboy had started to give it in tones that
Yellin' Kid might have been proud to own. This was necessary because
those in ambush were firing in full force it seemed. But they stopped
suddenly, in the midst of Snake's remarks, so that the end of the
cowboy's advice fell amid a silence, and, being delivered at full power
must have been heard by the enemy.
Bud's laughter at this little incident was echoed by the others, and, for
the moment, relieved the grim tension. But its grip tightened on all of
them a moment later, as a bullet, viciously "zinging" its way amid the
rocks, clipped a little from the lobe of the ear of one of the cowboys.
He uttered an exclamation, partly of disgust at his own carelessness in
exposing himself, and Snake yelled:
"I told you to keep down, you tenderfoot!"
It was the harshest expression that could have been used.
Following that single shot, after the fusillade that had been in play
during Snake's advice to Bud, silence fell, and Snake and Yellin' Kid at
once began to make preparations for what might be a prolonged fight. The
two veteran cowboys in virtual charge of the relief expedition managed to
crawl together to the shelter of a big rock, and there held a
consultation, the while cautioning the others to remain behind the
protection of boulders they had picked out after the first rush.
Fortunately the horses had all been well picketed in a glade back of the
rocky fastness in which our friends had made fires and slept for the
night, so the outfit from Diamond X was between its steeds and the enemy.
The horses, though at first startled by the firing, had soon settled down
to a quiet cropping of such scanty herbage as grew in that desolate
place. The animals were accustomed to the noise of guns, which formed an
important part of every roundup, and, fortunately none had strayed.
I say fortunately with good reason, for in that wild country a man
without a horse was worse off than one without a country, all patriotic
reasons aside, of course. It was impossible for a man on foot to
successfully make his way from water hole to water hole, and an
automobile would have been worse than useless. Therefore it was with a
feeling of thankfulness that Bud and his friends realized the horses were
safe--at least for the time being.
"Fellows, listen to me," Snake said in a low, clear voice, after he and
the Kid had talked in half whispers for a time. "We've got to do
something, and maybe prepare for quite a fight. Now those whose names I
call come with me. The others stay here with the Kid."
Thereupon Snake named half the force, including in it the three boy
ranchers, to their great delight. For they rightly guessed this was to
be a skirmish party, to sally out and see who were the attackers--perhaps
to wipe them out.
"Crawl over to the left and wait for me," went on Snake. "Don't move
until you can have shelter all the way. The firing's coming from only
one direction as yet--guard against that. Get together and wait for me."
Sharp are the wits of those who live in the west, especially in the
cattle country where snap judgment is often needed. Thus it took but a
moment for Snake's plan to make itself plain to Bud and the others.
One by one they crawled, or ran half crouched, from their original places
of safety to the angle where a great rock, jutting out from the side of
the glen in which they had camped, offered shelter for all. There they
stood, with ready guns, waiting for the next move in the grim game.
Snake had remained in consultation with Yellin' Kid until now, and then,
seeing his force waiting for him, the veteran cowboy made a dash to join
them.
I call it a dash, but Snake was not foolhardy, and the advice he gave he
took himself. Advantaging himself of every natural cover, the leader of
the second party dodged this way and that, stooping over half double,
until he was within ten feet of the shelter. Then since along the route
where he came from, there was an open, unprotected space, he tried to
cross this in two jumps.
He succeeded, but as he landed, and half fell amid his comrades, a gun
barked, somewhere out in the ambush, and by the convulsive movement of
his body Snake gave evidence of having been hit.
"Are you hurt?" cried Bud, as he caught the reeling cowboy.
"Guess not--much!" grunted Snake, but his voice was labored.
"Where was it?" snapped out one of the cowboys. "Let's have a look."
"Here!" Snake placed his hand over his heart. The boy ranchers
gasped--they knew what it meant to lose one of their leaders at a time
like this.
In an instant Snake's coat was flung open, and his shirt half torn to
expose his chest. And then there fell out, from next his skin on which
it had made an ugly bruise, a partly flattened bullet.
"Whew!" whistled Nort.
"Close call, that!" added Dick.
"Doggone!" voiced Snake, as he reached his hand to the inside pocket of
his vest. "They spilled half of it!"
"What?" asked Bud, relief showing itself in his voice.
"My tobacco!" answered Snake. "I had some packed away there to keep it
moist--some new kind of plug chewin' I got last week. Doggoned if they
ain't put a bullet clean through it!"
"And lucky for you they did," grunted Tar Soap Mullin, who had earned
this name from the kind of lather he used in shampooing himself every
Saturday night. "If that bullet hadn't happened to hit your plug it
would have plugged you."
And this was evident when Snake took out the tobacco in question. The
lead missile had struck the hard and pressed cake of tobacco, striking a
tin tag fastened to it, and thus the force of the bullet had been
neutralized, giving Snake no more than a severe shock and bruise.
"Well, it might have been worse," the cowboy grimly said, as he tucked
back his shirt, and put the tobacco in another pocket. "Now we got to
get busy! This is getting serious!" Bud and his chums thought he might
have said it was serious from the start, as indeed it was.
"What I picked you fellows out for," went on Snake, "is to take a sort of
scurry out there and see who's doin' all this shootin'." He clipped
letters off his words in his haste. "We're goin' out there an' see if we
can take 'em in the rear, while Yellin' Kid holds their attention in
front."
"Do you reckon they're Yaquis?" asked Tar Soap.
"Might be, then ag'in might not. If they aren't I don't see why in the
name of all the rattlers of Forked Rover [Transcriber's note: River?]
they're pickin' on us."
The method of procedure was simple and quickly agreed upon. Snake was to
lead the boy ranchers and his half of the party, by as safe and devious a
route as possible, out of the natural fort, to try and take the enemy in
the rear. If they could be placed between two fires--that of Snake's
party and of Yellin' Kid's--a surrender might be compelled.
"And don't take too many chances," advised Snake, as the sally forth was
started. "Watch yourselves."
They all knew enough to do this.
"When do we start?" asked Bud in a low voice, as Snake seemed to be
delaying for some reason.
"Soon as the Kid and his lads start firing," was the answer. "They're to
hold the Indians' attention in front while we come at 'em from the flank
and rear. Get ready--it may come at any moment now!"
It did, a second or two later--the signal. Amid a burst of shots from
Yellin' Kid and his force, Snake led the way with his men, all of them
crouching down to keep as much as possible behind the rocks.
"Don't shoot until you see something to shoot at," Snake had ordered.
"Save your lead."
Bud, Nort and Dick were together, leaping, crawling, crouching and
stumbling. Suddenly Dick, who had gone a little ahead of his two chums,
looked through an opening of the rocks. What he saw caused him to gasp
in surprise, and as he pointed he cried:
"Del Pinzo! Del Pinzo and his crowd! It isn't the Yaquis at all! It's
Del Pinzo!"