Wunpost

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A LESSON

  The heat-wave, which had made even the desert-dwellers pant, came to anend with the Jail Canyon waterspout; the nights became bearable, therocks cooled off and the sun ceased to strike through men's clothes. Butthere was one, still clinging to her faded bib-overalls, who took no joyin the blessed release. Wilhelmina was worried, for the sightseers fromBlackwater had disappeared as soon as Wunpost rode away; and now, twodays later, his dog had come back, meeching and whining and licking itsfeet. Good Luck had left Wunpost and returned to the ranch, where he wassure of food and a friend; but now that he was fed he begged andwhimpered uneasily and watched every move that she made. And every timethat she started towards the trail where Wunpost had ridden away hebarked and ran eagerly ahead. Billy stood it until noon, then she caughtup Tellurium and rode off after the dog.

  He led up the trail, where he had run so often before, but over theridge he turned abruptly downhill and Billy refused to follow. Wunpostcertainly had taken the upper trail, for there were his tracks leadingon; and the dog, after all, had no notion of leading her to his master.He was still young and inexperienced, though with that thoroughbredsmartness which set him apart from the ordinary cur; but when she madeas though to follow he cut circles with delight and ran along enticinglyin front of her. So Billy rode after him, and at the foot of the hillshe found mule-tracks heading off north. Wunpost had made a wide detourand come back, probably at night, to throw off his pursuers and startfresh; but as she followed the tracks she found where several horsetracks had circled and cut into his trail. She picked up Good Luck, whowas beginning to get footsore, and followed the mule-tracks at a lope.

  Near the mouth of the canyon they struck out over the mud, which thecloudburst had spread out for miles, but now they were across and goingdown the slope which a thousand previous floods had laid. Ahead lay WarmSprings, where the Indians sometimes camped; but the trail cut outaround them and headed for Fall Canyon, the next big valley to thenorth. She rode on steadily, her big pistol that Wunpost had onceborrowed now back in its accustomed place; and the fact that she hadfailed to tell her parents of her intentions did not keep her fromtaking up the hunt. Wunpost was in trouble, and she knew it; and now shewas on her way, either to find him or to make sure he was safe.

  The trail up Fall Canyon twists and winds among wash boulders, overcut-banks and up sandy gulches; but at the mouth of the canyon itplunges abruptly into willow-brush and leads on up the bed of a drycreek. Once more the steep ridges closed in and made deep gorges, thehillsides were striped with blues and reds; and along the ancient trailthere were tunnels and dumps of rock where prospectors had dug in forgold. There were dog tracks in the mud showing where Good Luck had comedown, and she knew Wunpost must be up there somewhere; but when she cameupon a mule, lying down under his pack, she started and clutched at hergun. The mule jumped up noisily and ran smashing through the willows,then turned with a terrifying snort; and as she drew rein and stoppedGood Luck sprang to the ground and rushed silently off up the canyon.

  Billy followed along cautiously, driving the snorting mule before herand looking for something she feared to find. A buzzard rose up slowly,flopping awkwardly to clear the canyon wall, and her heart leapt onceand stood still. There in the open lay Wunpost's horse, its sharp-shodfeet in the air, and there was a bullet-hole through its side. Shestopped and looked about, at the ridge, at the sky, at the knife-likegash ahead; and then she set her teeth and spurred up the canyon towhere the dog had set up a yapping.

  He was standing by a tunnel at the edge of the creek, wagging his tailand waiting expectantly; and when she came in sight he dashed half-wayto meet her and turned back to the hole in the hill. She rode up to itsmouth, her eyes straining into the darkness, her breath coming in short,quick gasps; and Tellurium, advancing slowly, suddenly flew back andsnorted as a voice came out from the depths.

  "Hello, there!" it hailed; "say, bring me a drink of water. This isCalhoun--I'm shot in the leg."

  "Well, what are you hiding in there for?" burst out Billy as shedismounted; "why don't you crawl out and get some yourself?"

  Now that she knew he was alive a swift impatience swept over her, anunreasoning anger that he had caused her such a fright, and as sheunslung her canteen and started for the tunnel her stride was almostvixenish. But when she found him stretched out on the bare, uneven rockswith one bloody leg done up in bandages, she knelt down suddenly andheld out the canteen, which he seized and almost drained at one drink.

  "Fine! Fine!" he smacked; "began to think you wasn't coming--did youbring along that medicine I wrote for?"

  "Why, what medicine?" exclaimed Billy. "No, I didn't find a note--GoodLuck must have lost it on the way."

  "Well, never mind," he said; "just catch one of my mules and we'll goback to the ranch after dark."

  "But who shot you?" clamored Billy, "and what are you in here for? We'llstart back home right now!"

  "No we won't!" he vetoed; "there's some Injuns up above there andthey're doing their best to git me. You can't see 'em--they're hid--butwhen I showed myself this noon some dastard took a crack at me with hisWinchester. Did you happen to bring along a little grub?"

  "Why, yes," assented Billy, and went out in a kind of trance--it was sounreasonable, so utterly absurd. Why should Indians be watching to shootdown Wunpost when he had always been friendly with them all? And forthat matter, why should anyone desire to kill him--that certainly couldnever lead them to his mine. The men who had come to the ranch wereBlackwater prospectors--she knew them all by sight--and if it was theywho had followed him she was absolutely sure that Wunpost had startedthe fight. She stepped out into the dazzling sunshine and looked up atthe ridges that rose tier by tier above her, but she had no fear eitherof white men or Indians, for she had done nothing to make them herenemies. Whoever they were, she knew she was safe--but Wunpost washiding in a cave. All his bravado gone, he was afraid to venture outeven to wet his parched throat at the creek.

  "What were you doing?" she demanded when she had given him her lunch,and Wunpost reared up at the challenge.

  "I was riding along that trail," he answered defiantly, "and I wasn'tdoing a thing. And then a bullet came down and got me through the leg--Ididn't even hear the shot. All I know is I was riding and the next thingI knew I was down and my horse was laying on my leg. I got out fromunder him somehow and jumped over into the brush, and I've been hidinghere ever since. But it's Lynch that's behind it--I know that for acertainty--he's hired some of these Injuns to bushwhack me."

  "Have you seen them?" she asked unbelievingly.

  "No, and I don't need to," he retorted. "I guess I know Injuns by thistime. That's just the way they work--hide out on some ridge and pot aman when he goes by. But they're up there, I know it, because one ofthem took a shot at me this noon--and anyhow I can just _feel_'em!"

  "Well, _I_ can't," returned Billy, "and I don't believe they'rethere; and if they are they won't hurt me. They all know me too well,and we've always been good to them. I'm going up to catch your mules."

  "No, look out!" warned Wunpost; "them devils are treacherous, and Iwouldn't put it past 'em to shoot you. But you wait till I get this legof mine fixed and I'll make some of 'em hard to ketch!"

  "Now you see what you get," burst out Billy heartlessly, "for taking Mr.Lynch to Poison Spring. I'm sorry you're shot, but when you get well Ihope this will be a lesson to you. Because if it wasn't for your dog,and me running away from home, you never would get away from herealive."

  "Well, for cripes' sake!" roared Wunpost, "don't you think I know thatnow? What's the use of rubbing it in? And you're dead right it'll be alesson--I'll ride the ridges, after this, and the next time I'll try toshoot first. But you go up the canyon and throw the packs off them mulesand bring me Old Walker to ride. I ain't crippled; I'm all right, butthis leg is sure hurting me and I believe I'll take a chance. Saddle himup and we'll start for the ranch."

  Billy stepped out briskly, half smili
ng at his rage and at the straitsto which his anger had brought him; but when she heard his heavygroaning as she helped him into the saddle her woman's heart wastouched. After all he was just a child, a big reckless boy, stilllearning the hard lessons of life; and it had certainly been treacherousfor the assassin to shoot him without even giving him a chance. She rodeclose beside him as they went down the canyon, to protect him frompossible bullets; and if Wunpost divined her purpose it did not preventhim from keeping her between him and the ridge. The wound and the longwait had shattered his nerves and made him weak and querulous, and hecursed softly whenever he hit his sore leg; but back at the ranch hisspirits revived and he insisted upon going on to Blackwater.

  Cole Campbell had cleaned his wound and drenched it well with dilutecarbolic, but though it was clean and would heal in a few days, Wunpostdemanded to be taken to town. He was restless and uneasy in the presenceof these people, whose standards were so different from his own; butbehind it all there was some hidden purpose which urged him on to LosAngeles. It was shown in the set lips, the stern brooding stare and hisimpatience with his motion-impeding leg; but to Billy it was shown mostby his oblivious glances and the absence of all proper gratitude. Shehad done a brave deed in following his dog back and in rescuing him fromthe bullets of his enemies, but when she drew near and tried to engagehim in conversation his answers were mostly in monosyllables. Only oncedid he rouse up, and that was when she said that Lynch was even with himnow, and the look in his eyes gave Billy to understand that he was noteven with Lynch. That was it--he was unrepentant, he was broodingrevenge, he was planning even more desperate deeds; but he would nottell her, or even admit that he was worried about anything but his leg.It was hurting him, he said, and he wanted a good doctor to see itbefore it grew worse; but when he went away he avoided her eye and Billyran off and wept.