CHAPTER VII.
A NIGHT RAID.
Ted bent over the mangled body of the hamstringer and turned him over.Then he leaped back with an exclamation of horror.
He had recognized the miscreant.
It was Sol Flatbush, the traitorous cow-puncher, member of the gang ofcattle rustlers and gamblers headed by Shan Rhue, who had run off aboutfive hundred head of cattle of the Circle S brand into the WichitaMountains in Indian Territory.
But how had Sol Flatbush got into this part of the country? And wherewas he stopping? It was evident that the cow-puncher and desperado hadhamstrung the cattle out of revenge for having been discovered anddriven out of the broncho boys' camp.
Now that he was dead, however, Ted lost all his resentment, and wasgenuinely sorry for the poor chap because of the horrible means of hisdeath.
Ted hardly knew what to do with him. It were better if his friends couldtake charge of his body and bury it, but where were his friends?
Suddenly a thought occurred to Ted. Perhaps Sol Flatbush, following hisinstincts and habits, had come north after he and Shan Rhue had beenoutwitted by the boys at the Hole in the Wall in the Wichita Mountains,and allied himself with the Whipple gang in the Sweet Grass Mountains.
If this were true, the simplest thing to do was to send the body ofFlatbush to the gang. It would serve, Ted hoped, as a terrible warningto the other members of the gang not to meddle with the affairs of thebroncho boys.
Not far away Ted saw a pony, saddled and grazing quietly.
Mounting his pony, he rode up to it. Tied to the cantle of the saddlewas a pair of blankets.
This was the very thing! Ted carried the blankets to where the body ofFlatbush lay. Spreading them out, he rolled the remains of Flatbush intothem, and bound them securely with a rope.
With some difficulty he lifted the bundle to the back of the outlaw'spony, and bound it securely with a lariat.
Then he tied the pony's reins to the horn of the saddle, gave the beasta slash with his quirt, and it started, snorting and jumping, toward thedistant mountains.
Thus was the body of Sol Flatbush sent to his friends.
"What was it?" asked Stella, when Ted, having finished his gruesometask, returned to her side.
"The chap who was mutilating the cattle is dead," he replied. "The bullsturned upon him and gored and trampled him to death."
"Horrible! Do you know who he was?"
"Yes, I recognized him."
"Is that a fact! Who was he?"
"An old enemy of yours."
"An enemy of mine! I didn't know I had one."
"Not really of your own, for no one who knows you could feel anyanimosity toward you, Stella. But you have enemies through me. Those whowould seek to hurt me do so by making trouble for you, knowing that theycan hurt me worse by injuring you than they could by torturing mepersonally."
"That's why you have so often warned me to be careful where I go alone."
"That is why. It is not fair that you should be put to discomfort or indanger of death merely because I make enemies by trying to force men toobey the laws."
"I understand. But who was the man who was killed?"
"Sol Flatbush."
"Sol Flatbush! How does it happen that he is in this country?"
"I'm sure I don't know, unless he and Shan Rhue, after escaping from theWichita Mountains, came directly here, having previously been members ofthe notorious Whipple gang."
"Then I suppose we shall see Shan Rhue one of these days. Ted, I'mafraid of that fellow. When they had me in the Hole in the Wall I heardhim make the most horrible threats against you."
"Threats don't hurt, Stella. The threatened man lives long. You know theold proverb: 'The man I most fear is he who says nothing, but smiles inyour face while he is planning to stab you in the back.'"
They were turned toward the ranch house, and as darkness was fallingswiftly, conversation was suspended as they put their ponies to theirhighest speed, galloping across the snow-covered range toward where theycould see the lantern of the house shining like a beacon through thegloom.
For the safety of the boys and the cow-punchers traveling toward theranch house in the dark, Ted had placed a large lantern on the top ofthe flagstaff which stood in the front yard, so that it could be seenfor miles at night to guide wanderers.
This had been suggested by his experience the first night they had spentat the house.
Those of the boys who were not riding line were stopping at the house,and they were all in the big living room awaiting the coming of Ted andStella.
When Stella was late in arriving at the house, Mrs. Graham began to growanxious and worried, and this was communicated to the others.
But when they heard Ted's ringing yell outside, as he and Stellagalloped up, there were shouts of gladness inside, and the big door wasthrown open, allowing a broad path of light to fall across the prairie,as two cow-punchers came bounding down the steps to take the ponies tothe corral.
After supper Ted told of the maiming of the cattle and the death of SolFlatbush.
It was part of the life at the ranch that bad news of any sort was nevertold at the table during meals, and if any of the fellows had agrievance or was in trouble he tried to keep that fact out of his faceand look as merry as he could while the others were eating. If he wantedto tell his troubles later, and any one was willing to listen, all rightand good, but mealtime was glad time where the broncho boys and theirfriends sat down together.
While they were sitting before the great fireplace after supper, ClayWhipple was looking into the flames with a preoccupied air.
He had been silent all evening, an unusual thing for him, for usually heinjected humorously dry comments into general conversations.
"What's the trouble, Clay?" asked Stella, who was always the first tonotice when one of the boys was not his usual self.
"Oh, I don't know," said Clay uneasily.
"Reckon he's worryin' some on account o' this yere mountain bandit bein'ther same name as him," laughed a cow-puncher named "Pike" Bander.
"I reckon you're only joshin', Pike," said Clay quietly, but growing ashade paler.
"Why, shore, Clay. Yer didn't think I wuz in earnest?" Pike hastened tosay.
Clay's Kentucky blood would not permit him to receive without resentmentany reflections against the South or the people of his family, while hecould stand any amount of personal joshing without growing in the leasttouchy or angry.
"Then what's the matter?" asked Ted, as Clay returned to his gloomycontemplation of the fire.
"I'm worried some, that's all," was the reply.
"Tell your troubles to the policeman, that's us."
"Well, I might as well out with it. Only I don't want to appear as if Iwas gettin' panicky over nothing."
"What is it, Clay? You are so provoking when I am just dying to hearabout it," cried Stella with a laugh. "Out with it."
"Injuns!" said Clay explosively.
"Indians!"
Every one around the fire sat up with a jump.
Clay nodded his head slowly without taking his eyes from the fire.
There was silence for a few minutes, for every one was turning this newmenace over in their minds.
The danger from Indians in this far-away Northern country was very real.It was not that the Indians would make any open or daring attacks, butthat they were lawless and fearless of the authority of the UnitedStates, and despised the "buffalo soldiers" at the near-by army posts.
"Buffalo soldiers" is a name of contempt given by the Indians to thenegro troops who had been stationed near the Blackfeet and Crow Indianagencies, on account of their curly, woolly hair, which, in thefantastic minds of the Indians, resembled the short, curly hair on theshoulders of the buffalo.
The negro troops were too near their own color to demand much respectfrom the Indians.
But the danger did not come so much from the reservation Indians, asfrom the fugitive Indians who had left the reservati
ons and had becomeoutlaws, allying themselves with the white bandits in the mountains, andliving by thievery from the ranchmen and sheep-herders.
Some of these Indians had rallied around Running Bear, a youngBlackfeet, son of a chief, a graduate of the Indian School at Carlisle,in Pennsylvania.
Running Bear was a young fellow of magnificent physique, for he had beena member of the famous Indian football team of Carlisle that had a yearor two previously cleared all white teams from the gridiron.
Running Bear was well educated also, and a man of fine address andmanners, when he wished to be so. But he was unprincipled, and when hereturned to the tribe lost no time in breaking all the laws imposed bythe United States for the government and welfare of the Indians.
This brought him into conflict with the Indian agent, and certainpenalties were imposed on him. This he would not stand, and soonpersuaded other of the young men of the tribe to mutiny against theagent.
This led to further trouble, and after committing some unforgivableoffense against the United States, Running Bear rallied his young men,and they fled the reservation and the ways and protection of the whitemen, and took to the mountains, where they lived by raiding the ranchesin the neighborhood, and maintaining a sort of defensive partnershipwith Whipple's band of white outlaws.
After a silence, during which every one was turning these facts over inhis mind, Ted turned to Clay, and said:
"What about the Indians, Clay?"
"I saw their tracks."
"Where?"
"In the coulee back of the house."
"Near the house!" exclaimed Ted. "That's getting pretty close to home.Did they see you?"
"I reckon they did. I took a shot at one of them, an' he left a redtrail in the snow."
"That's bad, Clay. You shouldn't have shot at him."
"Shouldn't, eh? Well, you never saw a fellow from ole Kaintuck thatwould stand up an' let a man shoot at him without sending hiscompliments back--if he happened to be packin' his gun at the time."
"Did they shoot at you, then?"
"One of them did. It was like this: I was ridin' in from the west, whereI had seen a small bunch of strays which I turned back to the main herd.As I was comin' up to the big coulee I saw something move against thesnow. At first I thought it was a grouse, and was just going to take ashot at it when I looked again. Then, by jinks, I saw that it was thehead of an Indian shoved up over the edge of the coulee.
"His back was turned to me, and he was watching the house. I pulled inmy pony and kept my eye on him for several minutes.
"Then I saw Mrs. Graham come out of the house and stand for a moment onthe back porch.
"The Indian rose up and brought a rifle to his shoulder. At that I letout a yell, and he turned to me like a flash, and pulled his trigger.But he was in too much of a hurry, an' the ball whistled over my head.
"I had my gun out, an' blazed away. The Indian yawped as if he had beenhit, and disappeared. I got to the coulee as fast as I could, but he haddisappeared."
"Was he the only one?" asked Ted.
"I reckon not, for there were any number of moccasin tracks in thecoulee, and the footprints of white men or Indians who wore boots. Therewas a splotch of blood where the Indian had been, and a red trailleading to where there had been ponies. Then I came on to the house."
Ted was thinking deeply. At last he raised his head.
"This has been a day full of things that may mean a great deal to us,"he said. "Follansbee has been shot by a member of the Whipple gang, SolFlatbush was killed after mutilating our cattle, more Whipple gang; andan Indian prowler has been shot, some more of the Whipple gang. Boys,the war is on, and it depends on us whether it is going to last allwinter and cause us to lose all our cattle, or whether we are going tobe able to stamp it out right now. Which shall it be?"
"I reckon we'd better get busy. It'll be easier ter do the job now thanfuss along with it all winter," said Pike Bander, who was an oldNorthern cow-puncher, and had had lots of experience with the Indians inMontana, the Dakotas, and Wyoming.
"I think you're right, Pike," said Ted. "And now off to bed with you.There'll be something doing to-morrow."
In half an hour the house was dark, and every one was asleep.
The moon which had been shining brightly during the early part of thenight had become obscured by a heavy bank of snow clouds, which had beendriven over the mountains by a north wind, and it had grown much darkeroutside.
In his sleep Ted seemed to hear the well-known voice of Sultan,whinnying shrilly. It was a dream, and Ted tossed uneasily. But againand again he heard Sultan's voice. It had a note of alarm in it, and Tedknew that Sultan seldom gave an alarm of this sort unless somethingserious was the matter. Ted's dream was of Indians, and the call ofSultan was very natural, for the little black stallion hated Indians,and whenever one came within smelling distance of him he grew uneasy andfretful, and always gave voice to his fear.
The dream had such a disquieting influence on Ted that it woke him, andhe sat up in bed grinning to himself in the dark to find that, afterall, it was only a dream, and that he was safe in bed.
But what was that?
He was awake now, and he distinctly heard Sultan. Then he had heard hispet give a warning, even in his dream.
Leaping from bed, Ted groped around the room, getting into his clothes,without lighting the lamp.
Grasping his rifle from the corner, and buckling on his belt andholster, he left the room.
As he passed Clay's room he entered and shook the sleeping Kentuckian,who was on the floor with a bound. Ted told him of the continued voicingof an alarm by Sultan, and Clay hurriedly dressed.
They passed into the living room, and Ted went to the windows on oneside, while Clay went to the other side.
Hidden by the curtains, they stood looking out on the snow-coveredplain.
"Hist!" It was Clay trying to attract Ted's attention.
Ted went swiftly to his side.
"What's that down by the corral?" whispered Clay.
Ted looked sharply.
"It's the Indians," said Ted. "They're trying to steal our horses.Sultan knows what he's about. Come on, we'll have to rush them."
Ted heard a rustling noise behind him and turned.
It was Stella, fully dressed, and with her rifle resting in the hollowof her arm.
"I heard Sultan, too," she said. "We'll have to hurry if we're going tosave the horses."
"You go back to bed," said Ted. "Yi-yi-yipee!"
His voice rang out in the old Moon Valley yell.
It was like a fire bell to a fireman, and brought the boys out of theirbeds like a shot, and they scrambled into their clothes and were in theliving room with their arms in a jiffy.
In the corral a great commotion was taking place, to judge from thenoise that came to them.
At the word of command they rushed through the door, and raced for thecorral, turning loose the long yell.
They heard guttural shouts in the distance, and a band of ponies camethrough the gateway of the corral, scattering over the prairie.
Behind them rushed a band of Indians, who, seeing that there was nofurther occasion for silence, gave forth whoops of defiance.
Then Ted saw Sultan gallop out, and on his back was an Indian.
This was more than Ted could stand, and his rifle flew to his shoulder.There was a flash and a crash, and the Indian fell to the ground, overwhich he writhed in agony.
Ted whistled, and Sultan trotted to his side.
The ponies had scattered, and the corral was empty.
Ted Strong in Montana Page 7