Ted Strong in Montana

by Edward C. Taylor

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  THE LOCOED STEER.

  The daring attempt to abduct the Indian girl made a strong impression onevery one of the Moon Valley outfit, and they resolved that they wouldnot be caught napping in that manner again.

  The herd continued to move forward slowly toward the north, with nothingto vary the monotony.

  The long, grassy slopes of Montana furnished the best of feed, and thecountry was plentifully watered with clear, flashing mountain streams,and, all in all, it was an ideal cow country.

  The herd was now well up toward the northeast corner of Montana, and notfar away was the Missouri, near the banks of which Ted intended to holdthe cattle until they were in fine condition, and then drive them byeasy stages to the railroad.

  One day Bud rode up to Ted with a very serious face, so unusual a thingthat Ted looked at him with a grin.

  "What's the grouch about now, Bud?" he asked.

  "I ain't got no grouch," answered Bud.

  "No? You look as if some one had handed you a lemon."

  "No lemons in mine, but I jest got a hunch that this yere outfit isbeing follered, an' that thar's some dirty work doin'."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "I found a couple o' dead steers back a bit with our brand on them."

  "Great Scott! What seemed the matter with them?"

  "All swelled up."

  "Poison?"

  "That's what makes them swell up. There's no disease in ther herd, whatI kin diskiver. All healthy enough. But some o' them is showin' signs o'loco, an' thar ain't no loco weed on this range."

  "That's mighty strange. I hadn't noticed it. What do you think of it?"

  "I believe that dog Woofer is follerin' us, an' has been spreadin'poison o' some kind on ther range what either kills or makes ther steerscrazy."

  "If that is true, it is the most serious thing that has come our way ina long time. It wouldn't take much of that sort of work to put the wholebunch out of business and leave us with not enough cattle to pay todrive back to the road."

  "That's right. We'd be in a pretty fix with the best o' our herd rottin'out here on the prairie. And about all we've got is tied up in it, too."

  "What do you think is behind it?"

  "Barrows, the dirty little coward of an officer back there at FortFelton, striking back-hand blows at us through his money, by hirin'crooks and murderers to do his dirty work. There's more than one man atwork at this."

  "I've no doubt you're right. By Jove! I'm going to take a look at thesituation myself."

  "Be careful about goin' too far away from the herd alone."

  "I will; and, say, warn Stella and Miss Croffut about going out of sightof the herd, and to always fire a signal if strange men approach themwhen away from camp."

  "I'll put everybody on, and warn them to be on their guard."

  As Ted rode on, he turned the matter over in his mind.

  Not knowing exactly if poison had been given the cattle, or if they hadeaten of a poisonous weed, of which he had no knowledge, Ted was in aquandary. But it was questions like this that came before cowmen on therange, and it was the successful ones who solved them.

  Ted felt, therefore, that it was up to him to get at the cause of thetrouble which had unexpectedly come to him.

  If he was being followed by a band of cattle poisoners who worked in thenight, the sooner he knew it the better, for he could then lay plans toput them out of their nefarious business.

  As he rode, he came across three swollen bodies of steers, and examinedthem. Clearly they had been poisoned, as Bud had said.

  Far out on the range he saw a lone steer. Thinking that it was a stray,he rode toward it, with the intention of driving it back toward theherd.

  For a herd steer, it was acting in an unaccountable manner. At times itgalloped away in a frantic sort of way, throwing its head from side toside, then as suddenly stopping, and, with drooping head, standingquietly. Then away it would go again, charging at some unseen foe, onlyto become stupid once more.

  "Something wrong with that brute," said Ted to himself. "Either it hasgot into a nest of rattlesnakes and has been bitten and is chargingthem, or it is locoed. We'll soon see."

  He kept on fearlessly toward the steer, which continued its strangeconduct.

  When he was still several feet away the steer noticed him for the firsttime, apparently. It lowered its head and looked at him in a dazed sortof way.

  This steer was known as Blue Eyes, on account of the curious bluishpatch of hair that grew around one of its eyes. It had always been knownas a particularly intelligent and tractable beast.

  But now it was a very demon, with gleaming, blood-shot eyes and pawinghoofs, uttering deep, guttural bellows, and throwing the sand up overits back to the accompaniment of its thrashing tail.

  "You look pretty dangerous, old fellow," muttered Ted, stopping his ponyand gazing at it from a safe distance.

  "No signs of rattlesnakes around here, or I'd smell them," soliloquizedTed. "Wonder what's the matter with you."

  For answer, the steer gave an extra flip to its tail, and, withoutfurther warning, charged upon Ted with head down and wicked hornsgleaming like bayonets. Ted's horse gave a snort of fear, and trembledin every muscle.

  Ted at once realized his danger, and wheeled his horse like abullfighter as Blue Eyes dashed past him, its horn scraping his leg.

  "It's fight or run," thought Ted, "with a poor chance to get away fromthe brute. When they're in that condition they can run like anautomobile."

  Again the steer, having recovered itself, turned to the attack.

  "I'll have to put a few bullets into that brute, if this thing keeps upmuch longer. It's just crazy enough not to be afraid of a man onhorseback, besides, it's a good deal more active than usual." Ted'sthoughts were keeping time with the swift actions of the brute, whichwas wheeling and charging like mad, so that it took all his agility andsuperb horsemanship to keep clear of it.

  Now the horse was getting tired, and was almost useless because it waslosing whatever sense it had had, and was becoming awkward andunmanageable.

  The steer stood off for several minutes looking at Ted in a loweringway, but when Ted tried to run from it, it was close to his heels in aminute, and he had to simply throw the horse to one side, bringing it toits knees, to avoid the brute.

  "That settles it," said Ted, taking his forty-five from its holster andadvancing slowly upon the frantic steer.

  As it started to charge again he fired directly at the middle of itsforehead.

  But the animal was hardly staggered, as the missile flattened on itsskull and fell harmlessly to the ground.

  "This won't do," said Ted. "I've got to get into this game myself. Nomore peek-a-boo goes with Blue Eyes. I'll do the tackling for a while."

  He wheeled out of the way, then turned suddenly and rode after thesteer, firing four balls in rapid succession into its body.

  But this did not seem to affect the animal's spirits at all, and Tedrode off a short distance and reloaded.

  When he turned again toward the beast it was charging, and was so closeto him that he hardly had time to get out of its way.

  He might have made it had not the horse caught the smell of blood, whichwas running from the steer in several places.

  This rattled him so that he lost his footing, and the next instant hewas struck on the withers by the steer's horns and went rolling over andover on the prairie, while Ted Strong flew from his back, and landedheavily on the sod, with his revolver knocked from his hand.

  The locoed steer stood a few feet away pawing the earth and looking athim with dim eyes, all blood-shot and crazy, not making a move towardhim, yet always seeming about to do so.

  Stealthily, inch by inch, Ted crawled toward where his forty-five lay onthe ground.

  It was six feet from where he lay to that gun, and he prayed silentlythat he could reach it before the steer changed its mind and rushed him.

  He knew it would do
no good for him to rise and go toward the weapon. Ifhe did, the steer would immediately rush him, and that would be the endof things for him, for he would stand no chance whatever against thatterrible beast, crazed, and powerful beyond its ordinary strength.

  As long as he crept gently the steer seemed not to notice him.

  Now he was within five feet of the revolver with his arm stretched outat full length. It was only four feet now, and still the steer did notmake any move to attack him.

  He was trying to think where he would shoot it. In the throat, rangingso that the bullet would pierce its heart; or through the eye, and soreach its brain.

  Now his fingers closed around the weapon, and he clutched itconvulsively, leaping to his feet like an acrobat.

  At the same moment the steer, bellowing like an insane thing, chargedupon him, and he fired into its blue eye.

  The ball pierced the brain and killed the brute instantly, but did notstop the headlong flight of it, and before Ted could step out of itsway, it struck him with the force of a locomotive. As he went to theground, the dead steer fell on top of him.

  Ted's fight with the steer had been seen, and across the prairie twoflying figures simply split the air. When they reached the side of theprostrate steer, they flung themselves to the earth and flew to therescue of Ted. One was Stella and the other was Bud.

  "Is he dead?" asked Stella breathlessly.

  "I reckon not," answered the cow-puncher, who, secretly, was very muchafraid he was; he didn't see how Ted could help being dead, having beencharged by a steer, and having gone down beneath its weight.

  He was struggling like a demon to lift the heavy animal from Ted's body.

  The bulk of the steer was lying across Ted's chest, whose face was blackfrom the congestion, so that Stella dared not look at him.

  "Pump yer gun fer all it's worth," commanded Bud, in a rough voice."Keep shootin' till yer bring 'em on ther run. We've got ter get himfrom under this steer soon, er he'll be all in."

  Stella had snatched her Winchester from the boot of her saddle, andfired it in rapid succession into the air until the magazine was empty.Then she refilled it, and began shooting again.

  Presently she heard answering shots from the direction of the camp, andin a few minutes several horsemen came tearing over the top of a distanthill, to disappear into a valley and come into sight again on a nearerhill. Soon, with a shout that fairly split the air, six of the boys, ledby Ben and Kit, threw themselves from their saddles in front of her.

  "What's the matter?" they yelled in unison.

  "Throw that steer off Ted," she commanded.

  Then they saw what the matter was, and altogether they hoisted thesteer, and Ted was freed of the terrible weight.

  He was scarcely breathing, for the wind had been completely knocked outof him. Ben laid him flat on his back, and, straddling him, with hisknees on the ground, began to work Ted's arms with an upward, backward,and outward motion, as if he was restoring the breath to a half-drownedperson. Soon a flush came into Ted's face, and he gave a gasp, and hisbreath came in short, painful inhalations. As Ben continued theexercise, his breathing became regular, and he opened his eyes withsurprise, to see so many of his friends about him, and particularly bigBen straddling him and apparently holding him down. He thought at firstthat Ben was responsible for his prostrate condition, or that he hadstruck him.

  "What are you doing?" Ted said angrily. "Let me up, dog-gone you."

  But when he saw the dead steer on the ground beside him he rememberedwhat had happened, and sat up and laughed with the others.

  It did not take him long to recover after this.

  "I'm going to try to find out what caused this beast to go mad," saidTed. "There's certainly something wrong about it."

  "How are you going to find that out?" asked Ben.

  "I don't know yet, but I will," Ted answered. "Come on, two or three ofyou fellows. The rest of you ride back to the camp. You may be neededthere. We can't guard things too closely these days."

  The party separated, and Ted, with Bud, Ben, and Kit, rode away, butthey had gone only a little ways when they heard a noise behind them. Itwas Stella galloping toward them.

  "I'm going, too," she said, and go she did.

  Riding about half a mile west they came to a deep coulee, into whichthey descended and followed its course for a short distance, whensuddenly Ted held up his hand as a signal to halt.

  "I smell burning paper," he said, and, getting down from his saddle,went forward alone on foot, as silently as an Indian.

  Suddenly he bent forward, examining something on the ground, andmotioned the others forward. They rode to his side, and saw him lookingat a small, dead camp fire.

  "Some one camped here last night," he said, thrusting his hand into thewarm ashes. "And whoever it was burned papers in it before he went awaythis morning; the smell of them is still in the air." But no nose in theparty was keen-scented enough to detect it except Ted's.

  Ted was still pawing among the ashes, when a change in expression sweptover his face, and soon he pulled out several small pieces of charredpaper. They were only burned on their curled-up edges, and Ted saw thatthey were covered with writing, evidently part of a letter.

  "What's this?" he exclaimed, after he had spread them out, and studiedthem attentively. "Here are some words. There is not very much sense inthem, though."

  "What do they read?" asked Stella.

  "This is all I can make out of it: 'I *end you *** **nds of ***is **een.***tter it on *** *rass. nce rr ws,'. Sounds as crazy as the steer,doesn't it?"

  "That's as easy as living on a farm," said Stella, who had been lookingover Ted's shoulder.

  "All right, Miss Smarty, what is it?" said Ted laughingly.

  "See, it's part of instructions to some one, and the way I read it islike this: 'I send you so many pounds'--I don't know just how many, butfrom the spaces the weight is expressed in three letters or threefigures. The next is presumably a poison, although I wouldn't havethought of it if you hadn't spoken of it. What does two words, the firstending in 'is' and the other in 'een' mean, I wonder?"

  They all scratched their heads for an answer.

  "Why, sure, I have it," said Ted. "It is Paris green."

  "That's it. Clever boy. Then there's 'tter,' which simply shouts'scatter' at you. After that 'rass.' That's not hard. It reads so far:'I send you, say six, pounds of Paris green,' although it must have beenmore than that. 'Scatter it on the grass.'"

  "But the rest of it. That will stump you," said Ben.

  "That's what caused me to get next to it first. It's Clarence Barrows,as sure as you're born!"

  "Stella, you're right, by jinks!" shouted Bud. "Ther sweet-scentedLieutenant Barrows has sent men out yere ter poison our critters, andwe've caught him with ther goods on."