Bower, 1874-1940 - The heritage of the Sioux

CHAPTER XVIII IN THE BEVEL'S FEYING-PAN

LUCK, riding confidently on the trail of the three horsemen who had taken to the south along the front of the square butte, believed that the turn of the trail around the southern end meant simply that the three who came this way would meet their companions on the other side, and that he, following after, would be certain to meet Ap-plehead. He had hopes of the speedy capture of Ramon Chavez and his men, and the hope spread to the four who went with him, so that their spirits rose considerably. Big Medicine and Happy Jack even found a good deal of amusement in their exchange of opinions regarding old granny Apple-head and his constant fear of the Navvies. Now and then the Native Son joined in the laugh, though his attention was chiefly given to the discussion Andy and Luck were having about Eamon and his manner of using Luck's work as an oppor-261

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tunity to rob the bank, and the probable effect it would have on the general standing of Luck and his company unless they managed to land the thieves in jail. Being half Mexican himself, the Native Son was sensitive upon the subject of Ramon, and almost as anxious to see Ramon in jail as was Luck himself.

So while Applehead and his boys were scenting danger and then finding themselves in the middle of it, Luck and his party rode along absorbed in themselves and in the ultimate goal, which was Ramon. They saw nothing queer about the trail they followed, and they saw no evidence of treachery anywhere. They rode with the rifles slung under their right thighs and their six-shooters at their hips, and their eyes roving casually over their immediate surroundings while their minds roved elsewhere — not because they were growing careless, but because there was absolutely nothing to rouse their suspicions, now that they no longer had Applehead along to preach danger and keep them keyed up to expect it.

They followed the tracks through a scattered grove of stunted pinons, circled at fault for a few 262

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minutes in the rocks beyond, and then picked up the trail. They were then in the narrow neck which was called the handle of the Devil's Frying-pan — and they would have ridden unsuspectingly into the very Pan itself, had not the jSTative Son's quick eyes caught a movement on the rim-rock across the bare, rock-bottomed basin. He spoke to Luck, about it, and Luck levelled his field glasses and glimpsed a skulking form up there.

" Hunt yourselves some shelter, boys! " he cried in the sharp tone of warning. " We'll make sure who's ahead before we go any farther."

They ducked behind rocks or trees and piled off their horses in a hurry. And a scattered fusillade from the rim-rock ahead of them proved how urgent was their need.

For the first fifteen minutes or so they thought that they were fighting Eamon and his party, and their keenest emotions were built largely of resentment, which showed in the booming voice of Big Medicine when he said grimly:

" Well, I'd jest about as soon pack Eamon in dead, as lead 'im in alive 'n' kickin', by cripes! Which is him, d'yuh reckon ?" 263

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From behind a rock shield Luck was studying the ledge. " They're Injuns — or there are Injuns in the bunch, at least," he told them after a moment. " See that sharp point sticking up straight ahead? I saw an Injun peeking around the edge — to the south. You watch for him, Andy, and let him have it where he lives next time he sticks his head out." He swung the glasses slowly, taking every inch of the rim in his field of vision. As he moved them he named the man he wanted to watch each place where he had reason to suspect that someone was hiding.

The disheartening part of it was that he needed about a dozen more men than he had; for the rock wall which was the rim of the Frying-pan seemed alive with shooters who waited only for a fair target. Then the Native Son, crouched down between a rock and a clump of brush, turned his head to see what his horse was looking at, back whence they had come.

" Look behind you, Luck," he advised with more calmness than one would expect of a man in his straits. " They're back in the pines, too."

" Fight 'em off — and take care that your backs 264

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don't show to those babies on the rim-rocks," he ordered instantly, thrusting his glasses into their case and snatching his rifle from its boot on the saddle. " They won't tackle coming across that bare hollow, even if they can get down into it without breaking their necks. Happy, lead your horse in here between these rocks where mine is. Bud, see if you can get the pack-horses over there outa sight among those bushes and rocks. We'll hold 'em off while you fix the horses — can't let ourselves be set afoot out here! "

" I-should-say — not!" Andy Green punctuated the sentence with a shot or two. " Say, I wish they'd quit sneaking around in those trees that way, so a fellow could see where to shoot! "

A half hour dragged by. From the rim-rock came occasional shots, to which the besieged could not afford to reply, they were so fully occupied with holding back those who skulked among the trees. The horses, fancying perhaps that this was a motion-picture scene, dozed behind their rock-and-brush shelters and switched apathetically at buzzing flies and whining bullets alike. Their masters crouched behind their bowlders and 265

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watched catlike for some open demonstration, and fired when they had the slightest reason to believe that they would hit something besides scenery.

" Miguel must have upset their plans a little," Luck deduced after a lull. " They set the stage for us down in that hollow, I guess. You can see what we'd have been up against if we had ridden ten rods farther, out away from these rocks and bushes."

" Aw, they wouldn't dast kill a bunch uh white men! " Happy Jack protested, perhaps for his own comfort.

" You think they wouldn't ?" Luck's voice was surcharged with sarcasm. " What do you think they're trying to do, then ? "

" Aw, the gov'ment wouldn't stand fer no such actions! "

" Well, by cripes, I hain't aimin' to give the gov'ment no job uh setting on my remains, investi-gatin' why I was killed off! " Big Medicine asserted, and took a shot at a distant grimy Stetson to prove he meant what he said.

" Say, they'd have had a snap if we'd gone on, and let these fellows back here in the trees close 266

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up behind us! " Andy Green exclaimed suddenly, with a vividness of gesture that made Happy Jack try to swallow his Adam's apple. " By gracious, it would have been a regular rabbit-drive business. They could set in the shade and pick us off just as they darned pleased."

" Aw, is that there the cheerfullest thing you can think of to say ? " Happy Jack was sweating with something more than desert heat.

" Why, no. The cheerfullest thing I can think of right now is that Mig, here, don't ride with his eyes shut." He cast a hasty glance of gratitude toward the Native Son, who flushed under the smooth brown of his cheeks while he fired at a moving bush a hundred yards back in the grove.

For another half hour nothing was gained or lost. The Indians fired desultorily, spatting bits of lead here and there among the rocks but hitting nobody. The Happy Family took a shot at every symptom of movement in the grove, and toward the rim-rock they sent a bullet now and then, just to assure the watchers up there that they were not forgotten, and as a hint that caution spelled safety.

For themselves, the boys were amply protected 267

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there on the side of the Frying-pan where the handle stretched out into the open land toward the mountain. Perhaps here was once a torrent flowing from the basin-like hollow walled round with rock; at any rate, great bowlders were scattered all along the rim as though spewed from the basin by some mighty force of the bygone ages. The soil, as so often happens in the West, was fertile to the very edge of the Frying-pan and young pinons and bushes had taken root there and managed to keep themselves alive with the snow-moisture of winter, in spite of the scanty rainfall the rest of the year. The boys were amply protected, yes; but there was not a drop of water save what they had in their canteens, and there was no feed for their horses unless they chose to nibble tender twigs off the bushes near them and call that food. There was, of course, the grain in the packs, but there was neither time nor opportunity to get it out. If it came to a siege, Luck and his boys were in a bad way, and they knew it. They were penned as well as protected there in that rocky, brushy neck. The most that they could do was to discourage any rush from those back in the grove; as to getting through 268