CHAPTER XX
THE RIDE WITH DEATH
"So steady and firm, leaning low to the mane, With the heel to the flank and the hand to the rein, Rode we on; Reaching low, breathing loud, as a creviced wind blows; Yet we spoke not a whisper, we breathed not a prayer; There was work to be done, there was death in the air; And the chance was as one to a thousand."
Sibyl had buttoned her glove, and she now took the rein herself andsettled firmly in the saddle.
"Do you think there is danger? How horrid to have a thing like thishappen and spoil our ride!"
To her unpracticed eyes the appearance of the moiling herd was not asthreatening as at first. The cattle in front were pushing into thosebehind and staying their forward progress. Farther back, where thestampede madness was doing its deadliest work, she could not see, forthe cattle there were hidden by the dust cloud.
"We must get out of this," said Clayton, in a nervous voice, as he sethis horse in motion. "Unless we ride fast they may cut us off at thelower end of the canon."
The forward line of moving cattle was hurled on again, as the recedingwave is caught by the one behind it and flung against the shore. Thethunder of pounding hoofs rose like the lashing of surf on a rockycoast. Then that long line, flashing out of the dust, deepenedbackward beneath the lifting cloud until it resembled a stretch oftossing sea. The resemblance was more than fanciful. The irregularheaving motion of a choppy sea was there, the white glint of horns wasas the shine of wave crests, the tumultuous roar rose and fell likethe thunder of billows, and the dust cloud hovered like thick mist.
Clayton and Sibyl were galloping at a swift pace. Terror clutched ather heart now and shone in her dark eyes. She heard the mad roarbehind her, and dared not look back. Clayton looked back, and his facebecame set and white.
"A little faster," he begged, when he had thus glanced behind.
He struck her horse with his hand to urge it on, while his heelsflailed the sides of his own beast. Her ribboned whip lifted and fell,and she cried out to her horse in fear. The whole herd was in motion.
It was crescent-shaped; widest in its center, like the horned moon;one end rested, or rather moved, on the canon's rim; the other, out onthe flat mesa, was swinging in toward the canon, farther down. It wasthis lower point of the crescented herd that Clayton feared most; thegreat moon-shaped mass was crumpling together, its ends wereconverging, and if that lower point reached the canon before theriders could pass through the gap which now beckoned there, they wouldbe caught in the loop of the crumpled crescent and crushed to death orhurled into the canon. The only hope lay in passing through thatopening while it still remained an opening. And toward that gap theywere riding, with a portion of the herd thundering behind along thecanon wall.
"We can make it," Clayton cried hopefully; "we can make it!"
And he urged the horses on.
Though the words encouraged her, Sibyl could not fail to perceive thedeadly peril of the closing gap toward which they were speeding.
Fortunately the ground was level, broken only by grassy hillocks andbunches of sage. The few obstructing plum bushes that had survived thefire or had sprouted since that time had been passed already.
As the cattle at the lower end of the crescent were thus brought near,Sibyl beheld the flecking spume of their foaming mouths as it wasflung into the air and glistened on their heads and bodies. She couldeven see the insane glare of their eyes, as they drove toward her intheir unheeding course. The thunder of their hoofs was making theground shake.
"Ride, ride!" Clayton shouted, his voice tremulous. "We can getthrough. We must get through!"
Even the horses seemed to know what threatened now. Leaping into thenarrowing gap, they answered this last appeal of heel, whip, and voicewith a further increase of speed. Clayton bent forward in his saddleas if he would hurl himself on, and in the extremity of his anxietyreached out his stiff hand toward Sibyl's bridle to urge her horse toeven a swifter pace.
They were riding dangerously near the canon wall. Hidden as the canonwas by tall grass, the cattle were driving straight toward it, asthough determined to hurl themselves and these wild riders into itsdepths.
And now the heaving backs, the tapering horns, the glaring eyes, theshining gossamer threads of wispy spume, and the tortured dust cloud,seemed to be flung together into the very faces of the riders. For amoment Sibyl thought all was lost; in imagination she was beingimpaled on those tapering horns. She heard Clayton yellingencouragement. Then, with spurning feet, the horses passed through thenarrow passage; and behind them broke a bellowing tumult, as theforemost cattle began to plunge downward into the canon.
Sibyl reeled in her saddle, and Clayton put out his stiff hand tosupport her.
Behind them was that wild roar, where the living cascade was pouringover the canon wall; and the danger was behind them, and past, hethought.
"Behind them broke a bellowing tumult, as the foremostcattle began to plunge downward into the canon"]
But suddenly the shooting torrent of bellowing animals was stopped.The portion of the herd which had followed madly after the fleeingriders along the wall, and had been augmented greatly in numbers,struck this lower line. It was like the impact of two cross sectionsof a landslide. The weaker gave way, over-borne and crushed; and thelarger herd streamed on, over a tangle of fallen bodies, adding to thetangled pile and treading each other down in wild confusion. Thedanger was not past.
Clayton's stiff hand settled Sibyl's reeling form in the saddle. Hewas shaking with the strain of his exertions and his emotions. Hisface was set like a mask and his dark eyes glittered feverishly.
"We must ride on!" he urged. "Just a little farther! I'll help you,but we must ride on!"
Returning fear put strength into her quivering body. She sat erectonce more, and again plied the ribboned whip. The horses, with sidessmoking and flanks heaving, galloped on. They had made a terrible run,as their dripping bodies and straining red nostrils showed, but theywere still game, and they responded to this new call as nobly as tothe first.
The section of the herd that had overwhelmed and trampled under footthe cattle in its way, came straight on, now and then tossing anunfortunate into the canon as a splinter is flung out from a revolvingand broken wheel. But the speedier horses drew away again.
While hope was thus returning to Sibyl her horse went down, havingthrust a foot into a grass-grown badger hole, and she was torn fromthe saddle and hurled violently through the air. She struck heavilyand lay stunned. Clayton was off his horse and at her side in aninstant, but had caution enough left to cling to his bridle rein.Sibyl lay groaning; but when he put his strong sound arm about her,she rose to her feet. Blood showed on her lips.
"It's nothing," she said, as he wiped it away with his handkerchief."I--I think I have only cut my lip." The thunder of the approachinghoofs frightened her. "Can you help me into the saddle?"
She clung to him weakly.
"Yes," he answered, supporting her.
But when they turned to her horse he saw that in its fall it hadbroken its leg. It stood helplessly by the badger hole, from which ithad scrambled, holding up that dangling leg.
"You must take my horse!" he said.
"And leave you here?"
"I--I can outrun them, maybe; if I had a revolver I might stop theforemost and get ground to stand on."
She put her hand to her bosom and drew out a small revolver.
"It may be foolish for a woman to carry such a weapon, but it will beuseful now."
It was but a little thing, a woman's toy, yet he took it eagerly.
"I can turn them aside with this; you must take my horse at once."
He lifted her in his arms and placed her in his saddle. She did notstop for conventionalities, but set a foot in each stirrup.
"You can make it yet!" he panted. "Go; don't think of me; I will stopthem here!"
He knew he could neither stop them nor turn them aside. She did notwant to leave hi
m, but fear tore at her heart; the herd was on themagain, though the halt had been so brief.
"Go!" he yelled, and struck the horse with the shining revolver.
Its quick leap almost threw her, but she clutched the horn of thesaddle and raced on.
Clayton turned to face the mad stampede. That line of tossing headsand clicking horns was not a hundred yards away. He looked at thelittle revolver and smiled. The strange light which had so startledJustin was again in his eyes.
"I will not leave you to be trodden to death by them, old fellow," hesaid to the horse; "you deserve a better fate than that."
With the words, he put the pistol to the head of the trembling horseand fired. It was but a small pellet of lead, but it went true, andthe horse fell. He stepped up to its body and sent the second shot atthe leading steer. He glanced at the sky an instant, then at Sibylfleeing away along the canon wall in the direction of the distantranch buildings. The strange light deepened in his eyes.
"I have saved her," he whispered; "and even God can die, when thereason is great enough!"
Sibyl did not hear those shots in the confusion that clamored behindher, and she had not courage to look back. Having lost her ribbonedwhip in the fall, she beat the horse with her gloved hand. A numbingpain gripped her heart and made her breathing quick and heavy. Attimes her sight blurred, and then fear smote hardest, for she feltthat she was falling. Yet she rode on, reeling in the deep saddle, andwhen faint maintained her position by clinging to the saddle horn. Atthe door of the ranch house she fell forward on the neck of the horseand slipped in a limp heap to the ground; but she was up again, withhand pressed to her heart, when Pearl Harkness dashed out to assisther.
Behind Pearl came Lucy Davison and Mary Jasper. They had heard thethundering of hoofs, and but a minute before had seen Sibyl ride intoview at that mad pace from behind the screening stables. She hadoutridden the stampeded cattle. The curving canon wall had turned themat last, and they were beginning to mill.
There was blood on Sibyl's lips and a look of death in her ghastlyface; yet she smiled, and tried to stand more erect, when she sawMary.
"Help me into the house, please," she whispered faintly; "I--I'mafraid I'm hurt."
Supported by Pearl on one side and by Lucy and Mary on the other,Sibyl entered the house. Inside the doorway she reeled and put herhand to her eyes. She stiffened with a shudder, as she recovered.
"I must lie down!" she gasped; but when she took another step theblindness and faintness returned, and she fell, in spite of thesupporting arms.
Pearl's cry of alarm and consternation reached the room where PhilipDavison lay. It was a lower room and furthest removed from the mesa,but he had heard the rumble of the stampede. The sound of excitedvoices, Sibyl's heavy fall, and that outcry from Pearl Harkness,called back the wasted strength to his weakened body. He appeared inthe connecting doorway, half dressed, and with a blanket drawn roundhis shrunken shoulders. He looked a spectre and not a man; his beardedcheeks were hollowed, his straight nose appeared to crook over thesunken mouth like the beak of a bird, and his blue eyes, gleaming fromcavernous sockets, stared with unnatural brightness. Seeing Sibyl onthe floor with the frightened women about her, he came forward andoffered to help. Nothing could have astounded them more than this, forthey thought he had not strength to walk.
"Put her in the bed there," he commanded, indicating an adjoiningroom.
He stooped to assist in lifting her; but the faintness was passing,and she showed that she was still able to assist herself.
"Yes, put me in the bed," she panted.
They helped her to the bed, Davison following with tottering steps,trying to aid. Mary shook the pillow into shape and placed it underher head. Sibyl observed her and put up her gloved hand to touchMary's hair.
"You are here, dear; I--I am so glad!"
"Where is Clayton?" said Davison, turning about. "He is needed."
A cowboy came running into the house to report the stampede of thecattle.
"Let them go," Davison cried; "you ride at once for Doctor Clayton.Tell him to come immediately."
Pearl Harkness had hurried into the kitchen, thinking of hot-waterbags. Mary stared into Sibyl's face and inanely patted the pillowtucked under her head. Lucy was wiping away the blood that oozed frombetween Sibyl's lips.
"Come nearer, dear," said Sibyl in a weak voice, speaking to Mary."Come nearer, dear; I want you to kiss me and forgive me. I--I--"
Her ghastly features became more pinched and ghastly; her hand waveredtoward Mary's face. Mary took it and placed it against her warm,tear-wet cheek, in the old way.
Sibyl stared at her.
"I--I can't see you, dear; but you have hold of my hand. The room mustbe growing dark, or--or is it my eyes? The windows haven't beenclosed, have they?"
"The windows are open," said Mary; "wide open."
Sibyl still stared at her, while Pearl bustled into the room withcloths and a water bottle.
"It--it is growing dark to me. I'm dying, and I know it. My--my horsefell, and--and Clayton was with me; he is out there yet--where--wherethe cattle are."
She made another effort to see.
"Hold--hold my hand tight, Mary; and--and please kiss me, won't you?Hold my hand tight! I loved you, Mary--I loved you! Oh, I can't seeyou--I can't see you at all! Kiss me, and forgive me. I don't want togo into the dark! I always loved the light--the light!"
As Mary stooped with that forgiving kiss, Sibyl touched her hair withaffection.
"I forgive you everything," said Mary.
"You won't believe that I truly loved you, Mary, but I did; alwaysremember that I did. Oh, I want the light--the light--I can't see you!I'm afraid there isn't any light--beyond! I could bear the fires ofhell if they but gave light and I could live on. But I'mafraid--afraid, Mary, that--that there isn't anything beyond; and thatI shall never see you again!"
She put up her hands, gasping for breath.
"I've been a wicked woman, but I loved you, Mary; oh, I loved you; andI tried to shield you all I could! I oughtn't to have taken you toDenver, but I wanted you, and I was selfish. Oh, this darkness! Openthe windows; I'm--I'm afraid of the darkness! Open the--windows; Imust--must have light!"
But the light did not return.
Clayton's body, mangled beyond recognition, was found near that of thehorse he had mercifully slain.
Justin Wingate, Ranchman Page 36