Snake Vengeance

by Philip Harbottle

  Val sighted quickly — and fired. One of the men threw up his hands and dropped from his saddle into the sand.

  ‘Nice shooting, gal,’ King grunted, but his voice was troubled. ‘We’re outnumbered four to one, and this dune is wide enough for them to come round the back of it. They can riddle us if we aren’t careful.’

  ‘Not if we riddle them first,’ Larry said. ‘That’s our only chance. Give them everything we’ve got!’

  He squirmed his way up the sandy slope once more and, risking any bullets that might come his way, he fired three times in quick succession. One of his bullets missed, but the other two brought down another couple of men. Only one lay unmoving; the other picked himself up, clutching his shoulder.

  ‘ Look out !’ King cried suddenly, and just in time Larry saw that two men were on the edge of the dune, about to leap down upon him — the two men he had sent into the desert.

  Many things abruptly became clear to him. The two men, recognizing friends, had returned — which accounted for the others holding their fire. A sudden leap down on the trio could easily have gained them an advantage — but Larry acted in the split seconds he had to observe them.

  He fired savagely, twice in quick succession. Lucas, the right-hand man, buckled at the knees and collapsed in the sand. His companion, Harral, clawed the air, wheeled round, and then crashed headlong down the dune and became motionless.

  ‘That does it,’ King said grimly. ‘They won’t hold their fire up there any longer. Be ready for anything.’

  But it seemed he was wrong. No bullets came.

  ‘Anyway,’ Larry said, looking up from a quick examination of the two men he had shot, ‘these two will never give any fake evidence now, and — ’

  ‘ Get your hands up — the lot of you !’

  Larry twisted and fired savagely. His bullet went wide. The second time his hammer clicked on emptiness, the chambers exhausted. He put the weapon in its holster and stared fixedly at Sheriff Crawford and Hank, standing a foot or two away. They had done the thing King had feared — sneaked up from behind. But, strangely, they did not seem in any particular hurry to use their guns.

  Holding them but not firing them, they came forward to where the trio now kneeled in the sand, their hands raised. King had his uninjured left arm up, which was the best he could do.

  ‘Take their guns, Hank,’ Crawford said briefly, and when it had been done he surveyed the three and grinned coldly.

  ‘Mebbe we can get better results out here than leavin’ it to a legal-minded dimwit like Judge Gascoigne,’ he said. ‘Thanks to you snatchin’ my two boys, I got censured by that fool judge and you, Ashfield, escaped a necktie party. I also notice that you’ve plugged my deputies over there — but even if I can’t pin the Makin rap on you now, mebbe I can exercise a little justice on my own account.’

  ‘Come to the point, can’t you?’ King snapped. ‘Why don’t you shoot that damned gun and get it over with?’

  ‘A quick death with a bullet in the heart is too good for what you’ve done,’ Crawford explained venomously. ‘And anyway, bullets are too easy to trace. Besides, I’m thinking of making you smart a bit before you die.’

  ‘I always did think you were a sadist, Crawford,’ Val commented bitterly. But there was no fear in her voice. ‘What are you planning to do with us?’

  ‘Nothing much — I’m just going to bury you in the sand and leave it at that.’

  ‘You mean — bury us alive?’ King demanded incredulously.

  ‘Not quite.’ The sheriff grinned sadistically. ‘I just aim to have you buried as far as your necks. I reckon the sun and sand’ll do the rest. Down in this dune here nobody’ll ever see you if they come ridin’ this desert trail, and you sure won’t see them. OK, boys,’ he called, raising his voice. ‘Fetch three lariats.’

  Presently several of the men returned, carrying thin, tough ropes. Crawford motioned with his gun.

  ‘Tie up these three separately — and make it good. You other boys can start digging three holes, deep enough to take each of these three as high as their chins.’

  ‘What about our own casualties?’ one of the men asked. ‘Are you just leavin’ them here for the buzzards?’

  ‘We’re taking their bodies back to town for burial, you bonehead!’ Crawford snapped impatiently. ‘We’ve no time for anything else. It’s hot enough out here to burn the damned brains outa a man. Hurry it up, and get those three holes dug.’

  Having no implements with them, the men had to use their hands, but the sand being fairly soft it did not take them very long to burrow down. Tightly bound, not speaking, Larry, Val, and her father looked at the three holes and then at each other.

  ‘Mighty nice,’ Hank said, with a glance at Crawford. ‘I couldn’t have thought of anythin’ better myself.’

  ‘Dump ’em in — and pack the sand tight,’ Crawford snapped. ‘Hurry it up!’

  Larry was the first to be lifted and lowered into the hole assigned for him. Sand was poured in around him and packed tight. At last it had risen to chin level, and he was left with his head protruding from the sand.

  ‘Take his hat away,’ Crawford growled. ‘He don’t need that — and neither does King or the girl. Blast it, hurry up!’ he yelled, as the men hesitated. ‘We’re not durned well frying here much longer than we can help!’

  It seemed pretty obvious that some of the men were not such hardened brutes as Crawford, but he had the guns and the authority, so they did as they were told. Val was the next to be buried to chin level; then came her father, no regard for his tightly bound, injured hand being shown.

  ‘Yeah, very pretty,’ Crawford said eventually, wiping the streaming perspiration from his face. ‘That’ll teach you to play games with me. OK, boys, let’s go. Take their horses with us … ’

  ‘Reckon we can’t do that,’ Hank said, looking about him. ‘They’ve gone. Musta stampeded when all those shots were fired. Couldn’t have been hitched to anything.’

  ‘Find ’em,’ Crawford ordered. ‘Horseflesh is mighty valuable.’

  With a shrug Joe toiled to the top of the dune, mopping his face. The hot wind smote him as he came to the desert level. Far away, and apparently becoming remoter, were three black specks. He gave a grunt of disgust and turned.

  ‘Durned things are on the run, miles away,’ he said. ‘I don’t fancy chasin’ after them in this heat, Sheriff.’

  ‘OK, leave ’em,’ Crawford said. ‘Let’s hit leather for somewheres less hot.’

  He gave one more malign glance at the buried trio and then, with his men, scrambled up the sandbank and disappeared from sight. There was the faint, distant thunder of hoofs — and then silence. To the three buried in the sand it felt as though their faces were close to molten lead whilst their bodies, cramped with ropes and packed with sand, were feeling deadly cold and numb.

  ‘Be a couple of hours until this sun begins to sink,’ Val said, squinting up into the glare. ‘Until then I suppose we just fry. I always knew Sheriff Crawford had no scruples, but I didn’t think he’d ever stoop to this.’

  She made a useless effort to try and release the ropes pinning her arms and legs. The tightly jamming sand prevented the slightest movement. All she could do, like her father and Larry, was stand motionless and feel the life being slowly numbed from her body whilst the heat seared her head and face.

  ‘How long,’ King said presently, licking his cracked lips, ‘d’you suppose we can hold out?’

  ‘Depends on our constitutions,’ Larry muttered, with an anxious glance at Val. He noticed that her head was now lolling backwards on the sand, her eyes closed to the intolerable glare. Perspiration gleamed like a film over her strained features.

  Time passed with agonizing slowness. As a form of torture it was exquisite.

  ‘Say,’ King whispered, his voice hoarse, ‘what d’you reckon that is, Larry? Over to your right … ’

  Larry turned his head with an effort and then frowned. A dark, peculiarl
y shaped moving shadow was being cast on the sand from behind the ridge of the dune. Both Larry and King were still trying to work it out when there was a sudden whinny in the still-sizzling air.

  ‘One of our horses!’ King gasped. ‘I’d forgotten ’em. They’ve come back. Here, boy,’ he broke off, clicking his teeth, ‘come here … ’

  There was another whinny, which this time seemed to have a touch of delight in it, and the shadow moved quickly. One of the three horses loomed into view and stood, looking into the gully, kneading sand with his forelegs.

  ‘It’s Blackie, my own sorrel,’ King gasped. ‘Here, Blackie — good boy. Come here.’

  Blackie came down into the gully obediently and stood a few feet away as though trying to decide what to do next.

  ‘We’ve one chance,’ Larry said urgently. ‘I can do it better than you because I’m uninjured and lighter than you are. If I can only get those dangling reins under my chin, Blackie might pull me free! After that I can roll to you and you can unpick my rope knots with your teeth.’

  ‘It’s a chance,’ King agreed, without hesitation. ‘Go for it, son.’

  Larry tried calling the horse to him. It showed the whites of its eyes, snorted and sweated, and remained motionless. There was an added danger at this moment. The blazing heat might easily cause it to lose control of itself. If it did that and its hoofs lashed out at the heads at ground level …

  ‘Blackie,’ Larry called gently, fighting hard against dizziness. ‘Come here, boy. That’s it,’ he murmured, as the animal at last came towards him. ‘Nearer … Good lad. Nearer … ’

  The horse did not understand, and it kept shambling about in a half-circle, the loop of the reins dangling about a foot from Larry’s head as he struggled to stretch his chin near them.

  ‘No use,’ he groaned. ‘The dumb beast just doesn’t get the idea … but he’s got to!’ he added fiercely. ‘Look at Val there. She’s been lying like that for nearly fifteen minutes — the sun beating into her face. Blackie, damn you, come here!’

  The animal moved, stopped in front of Larry, and snorted.

  ‘I’ve got it!’ King said abruptly. ‘If I call him he might step over you to come to me — give you a chance to get the reins under your chin. But for God’s sake mind you don’t get strangled!’

  ‘Strangled or fried, what’s the difference?’ Larry growled. ‘Try it!’

  King clicked his teeth. ‘Here, Blackie,’ he called. ‘Good boy! Here … ’

  Blackie moved, stepping neatly over Larry’s head. He angled his chin quickly and the leather loop caught beneath it.

  ‘Call him again!’ he gasped. ‘Quick!’

  Desperately, King did so. Realizing he was being dragged downwards at the bit, Blackie set his back legs and lurched forward to his master. To Larry it felt as though his jaw was being crushed as his body was dragged from the sand piled around him. He came out as far as his knees and then lay on his face, gasping, the reins swinging free again.

  ‘So far, so good,’ he panted, and began to roll over until he had reached King’s side.

  As the horse blew through its nostrils and kneaded its legs impatiently, King had all the work to do. His strong teeth bit and tugged at the knots about Larry’s wrists, his task made tougher by the fact that dampness in the sand had tightened the fibres. The heat was all on the surface: a foot below it was cold.

  ‘OK,’ King breathed at last, oblivious to his bleeding gums. ‘Try pulling your wrists free now, Larry.’ He relaxed, panting hard.

  Larry tugged furiously at his wrists and they came apart. After that it did not take him long to free the rest of his body. Immediately he dived across to Val and began to scoop the sand from about her. Lifting her slack body in his arms, he carried her to the further end of the gully, where the slowly descending sun had created a lengthening shadow. She stirred slightly as Larry tore the ropes away from her.

  Leaving her to recover consciousness, he returned to King and dug him out. The old man was utterly exhausted but otherwise unhurt. Trailing Blackie beside him, he staggered across with him into the shadowy area. A word from him brought the horse down on its knees, then on its side, so that it was out of the sunlight.

  ‘How’s things, Val?’ Larry murmured, slipping his arm behind her shoulders as she stirred into wakefulness.

  She did not answer as she passed a hand over her damp forehead and breathed hard. King gave her a glance and then looked around him.

  ‘Wonder what happened to the other two cayuses?’ he asked. ‘Guess I might take a look … ’

  He struggled painfully to his feet and went up the dune, thankful for the hot wind that fanned his sun-cracked face as he reached the top of the rise. Almost immediately he discerned two black shapes moving aimlessly not very far away.

  ‘Here, boys,’ he shouted. ‘Gee-up! Here … ’

  Attracted by his familiar voice, the horses turned and began to trot towards him. In another few moments they had arrived. He caught at their reins and led them down into the gully, forced them to lie down, and then unfastened the water barrel from the back of Val’s horse.

  ‘Here, son — give the gal some water,’ he said, rejoining Larry and handing the barrel over. Larry took it from him carefully, and held it steadily as Val drank some of the warm liquid. At last she relaxed and covered her face with her hands.

  ‘What goes on?’ King asked in surprise. ‘She’s OK, isn’t she?’

  ‘The sun’s got her,’ Larry answered grimly ‘She’s got a tearing headache and she can’t see.’

  ‘ What ?’ King stared blankly, then he caught Val in his arms and looked down into her face. She opened her eyes and blinked at him.

  ‘Don’t start worrying about me, Dad,’ she said huskily. ‘I — I guess I’ll be OK when I — I get rid of this headache. It’s pretty nearly — killing me!’

  She beat the sand with her fists and twisted her body helplessly in a vain effort to escape the anguish that gripped her. King took her in his arms again and held her tightly.

  ‘Take it easy, youngster,’ he murmured, kissing her forehead. ‘We’ll see that you’ll be OK. It’s just a touch of the sun. I’ve nursed you better before, after I lost your dear mother, and I can do it again.’

  She squirmed a little in his grip. ‘Dad, it’s no use,’ she whispered. ‘I’m blind! Don’t you realize that? Everything’s black.’

  ‘Yeah,’ King said gently. ‘Sure it is. Sun-blindness happens in the desert many a time. Had it myself. Fair blows your brains apart while it lasts. You’ll be OK when the night comes.’

  He exchanged a grim look with Larry, who got on his feet and wiped his face.

  ‘Crawford’s got plenty to answer for,’ he said tautly. ‘Time we were riding back into town. Are you taking Val or shall I? We can shade her from the sun with our bodies.’

  ‘I’ll take her,’ King decided. ‘She’s my kid. I know how to handle her.’

  Larry nodded and turned to the horses. He and King then both took a drink — not too much — then King climbed into his saddle and took the softly moaning girl into his lap as Larry gently raised her up. His face as hard as granite, Larry mounted his own horse, taking Val’s in tow, and then led the way up the slope.

  Then they were riding through the searing waste, the shadows lengthening about them. But they still had a considerable distance to go before they escaped from the wilderness.

  6. Duel Of Death

  The edge of the desert was not reached until nightfall, and here Larry called for their third halt, stopping at the first water hole on the trail that led across country to Buzzard’s Bend.

  Val, who seemed to have recovered slightly with the coming of the night, was lifted down by Larry and laid so that her head and shoulders were propped by rockery. He held the water barrel for her whilst she drank.

  ‘Any better, Val?’ Larry murmured.

  ‘I guess so.’ Her voice was weak. ‘At least I don’t feel as if my head’s about to fall off an
y more. But I still can’t see anything.’

  ‘Not much to see if you could.’ Larry sat alongside, his arm around her. ‘Night’s come. There’s only the stars and … ’ He paused, so abruptly that he felt the girl tense in his grip.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked quickly.

  ‘I dunno … ’ Larry turned to where King was half-lying beside him, grateful for the brief rest. ‘Say, Mr King, what do you suppose that glow is over there? Flickering in the distance?’

  ‘Fire of some sort, I reckon.’

  ‘Doesn’t it occur to you it’s in the same direction as the Bar-6?’

  ‘Huh?’ King scrambled to his feet and watched the distant flickering intently. ‘Sweet juniper, you’re right,’ he breathed. ‘Don’t tell me that two-bit sheriff has set fire to our spread!’

  ‘Sooner we ride out and see the better,’ Larry said, helping Val to her feet. ‘The horses have had their drink at the water hole, so let’s move. Hang on to me, Val, you’ll be OK.’

  Larry guided her into the saddle of his horse. Then he was behind her almost immediately and started the horse forward. Behind him, trailing Val’s horse, King followed quickly.

  Tired though the animals were, Larry did not spare the pace. He kept his eyes on the distant glow as he thundered his horse along the night trail, Val clinging tightly to him. She could not bring herself to say anything. The blindness afflicting her made her begin to fear that perhaps she would never again see the beauty of the country in which she had been raised.

  Gradually, lulled by the rocking motion of the horse, and having nothing but blackness around her, she fell asleep. She only awoke again as Larry’s voice immediately above startled her.

  ‘It’s the Bar-6 all right. Come on!’

  He goaded his horse forward down the long slope of pastureland that led to the Bar-6, King thundering behind him. Both men could now see that the ranch house itself seemed as yet untouched, but the barns were afire and several of the outhouses. At the yard gate Larry dismounted swiftly and lowered Val to her feet. He put her fingers in contact with the saddle.