Laramie Holds the Range
Page 26
CHAPTER XXVI
THE CRAZY WOMAN WINS
It would have been idle for Laramie to deny to himself, as she steppedwithout hesitation under his roof, that he loved her; or that he couldstep in after her and close his door for her and for him--even for anhour--against the storm and the world, without a thrill deeper than hehad ever felt.
He leaned his rifle against the cabin wall; a blanket had been hungcompletely over the window and he let down two heavy bars across thedoor. Kate, in front of the fire, followed him with her eyes. "Don'tmind this," he said, noticing her look. "The place is watched a gooddeal. I couldn't afford too much of a surprise any time."
While he was searching for a lamp, her eyes ran quickly over the darkinterior, lighted fitfully as the driftwood, snapping on the stonehearth, flared at times into a blaze. Kate herself, despite the doubtsand fears of her situation, was conscious of a strange feeling in beingunder Laramie's roof--at one with him in so far as he could make herfeel so. Like a roll of fleeting film, strange pictures flashed acrossher mind and she could not help thinking more and more about the manand his stubborn isolation.
He had taken off his coat and was trying to light the lamp. She lookednarrowly at the face illumined by the spluttering flare of the wick ashe stood over it, looking down and adjusting the flame; he seemed, shewas thinking--for her at least--so easy to get along with--for everyoneelse, so hard.
A pounding at the door gave her a start. Hawk was returning from thebarn where he had taken the horses. Laramie showed no surprise andwalked over to lift the double bar only after he had got the lamp toburn to suit him. She felt startled again when Laramie in the simplestway made the formidable outlaw, who now walked in, known to her. Thepicture of him as he swung roughly inside from the wild night wasunforgettable. Erect and with his piercing eyes hollowed by illness,his impassive features made slender by suffering and framed by thestriking beard, Hawk seemed to Kate to confirm in his appearance everyfantastic story she had ever heard of him.
Not till after Laramie had urged him and Kate herself had joined in theplea, would he come near her or near to the fire.
"A wet night and a blind trail do pretty well at mixing things up,"observed Laramie. "However, we needn't make any further secrets. Abe,here, has got it in his mind to head for a hospital tonight. You," helooked at Kate, "are heading for home. I don't like either scheme verymuch but I'm an innocent bystander. We'll ride three together till thetrails fork. Then," he spoke again to Kate, "we'll put you on a suretrail for the ranch, and the two of us will head into town. It isn'tthe way I planned, but it's one way out."
"The sooner we get started the better," said Hawk, curtly. The two mendiscussed for a moment the trip; then Laramie and Hawk left the housefor the barn and corral to get up horses. Before leaving, Laramieshowed Kate how to drop the bars and cautioned her not to neglect tosecure the door. "Some of this bunch Van Horn has got out wouldn't bevery agreeable company."
"Surely they wouldn't harm me!"
"It would mean a nasty fight for us when we bring up the horses."
Kate secured the door. Wet and uncomfortable but undismayed by thevarious turns of her predicament she sat down to study the fire. Hereyes wandered through the gloom to the dark corners of the rough roomand over the crude furnishings.
The long, slender snowshoes on the wall, the big beaded moccasins withthem, the coiled lariats hung on the pegs in company with old spurs;the bunk in the corner strewn with Indian blankets from the far-offSpanish country, and overflowing with the skin of a grizzly--allbrought to mind and reflected an active life. The firelight glintedthe bright, bluish barrels of the rifles on the rack, to Kate, almostsinisterly, for some of them must suggest a side of Laramie's life shedisliked to dwell on--yet she allowed herself to wonder which rifle hetook when he armed not for elk or grizzlies but for men. And then atthe side of the fireplace she saw fastened on the rough wall a fadedcard photograph of a young woman--almost a girl. It was simplyframed--Kate wondered whether it might be his mother. Over the crudewooden frame was hung an old rosary, the crucifix depending from thepicture. The beads were black and worn by use as if they had slippedmany times through girlish fingers.
She had a long time to let her thoughts run. The two men were not soonback and she was beginning to wonder what might have happened, when,standing at the door to listen, she heard noises outside and Laramie'svoice. She let him in at once. "You didn't have the door barred," hesaid, suspiciously.
"Oh, yes, but I heard you speak."
He was alone. "We're ready," he said. "No dry clothes for you, but wecan't help it."
She protested she did not mind the wet. Hawk in the saddle was waitingwith their horses. Rain was still falling and with the persistentcertainty of a mountain storm. Kate, mounting with Laramie's help, gother lines into her hands. "It's pretty dark," he said, standing at herstirrup. "We'll have to ride slow. I go first, Hawk next, then you;if our horses can make the trail yours likely can. I don't think we'llmeet anybody, but if we do it's better to know now what to do. If youhear any talk that sounds like trouble, push out of the line as quickas you can and throw yourself flat on the ground. Stay there till youdon't hear any more shooting, but hang on to your lines so you don'tlose your horse.
"The only other trouble might be your getting lost from us." He spokeslowly as if thinking. "That must depend a good deal on you. Keep asclose as you can. Can you whistle?" Kate thought she could. "If youcan't make us hear," he continued, "shoot--have you got a pistol?" Shehad none. He brought her a double action revolver from the cabin andshowed her how it worked. "Don't use it unless you have to. It mightbe heard by more than us."
Kate stuck the revolver under her wet belt. "Why couldn't I ride withyou?" she asked.
"There's more danger riding ahead."
"No more for me than for you."
"I wouldn't say that. But if you want to try it, all right. Keepclose. Don't be afraid of bumping me--and Hawk can follow us."
There was nothing in the night to encourage heading into it. That mencould find their way with every possibility of landmark and sightblotted out and nothing of sound above the downpour except thetumultuous roar of the Turkey which they were following, was to Kate amystery of mysteries. Even the lightning soon deserted them. Theirpace was halted by washouts, obstructed by debris in the trail. Inplaces, the creek running bank-full, backed up over their path.
At times, Laramie halting his companions, rode slowly ahead, soundingout the overflows and choosing the footing. Where streamlets pouredover rock outcroppings the horses slipped. Frequently to get hisbearings, Laramie felt his way forward by reaching for trees andscraped his knees against them as he pushed his horse close. And inspite of everything to confuse, intimidate and hold them back, theyslipped and floundered on their way, until quite suddenly a new roarfrom out of the impenetrable dark struck their ears.
Laramie halted their party, and the three in silence, listened."That," said Laramie, after a moment, to Hawk, "sounds like the CrazyWoman."
He went ahead to investigate. He was gone a long time, yet he gropedhalf a mile down the road and made his way back to his companionswithout a signal. He was on foot. "We're all right," was the reporthe brought, "it's a little dryer ahead. While I'm down," he said toKate, "I'll try your cinches. It's a mean night."
"Did you ever see such a night?" she echoed, shuddering.
"Plenty of 'em," returned Laramie. "Once we cross the creek the goingwill be better."
Of the going between them and the creek, Laramie prudently saidnothing. It was the worst of the journey. Two stretches were filledwith backwater. Across these they cautiously waded and swam thehorses. When they gained high ground adjoining the creek, Katebreathed more freely. There was a halt for reconnaissance. For this,Laramie and Hawk, after placing Kate where she would be safe whetherthey should come back or not, went forward together.
The splashing and floundering of
their horses as the two left her side,was gradually lost in the roar of the night and she was alone in thedarkness. They were gone a good while but Kate had enough of confusedand conflicting thought to occupy her reflections. After a longinterval the report of a Colt's struck her anxious ear. She swallowedin sudden fear to listen more keenly. If there were a fight it wouldbe followed by another report and more. With her heart beating fastshe listened, but there was no successor to the single shot and,calming somewhat, she speculated on just what it might mean. Again shewaited with such patience as she could until the measured splash of ahorse's feet nearing her through the shallow water announced someone'sapproach. Laramie was back and alone.
Almost anybody in the world would have been welcome at such a juncture.He called and she answered quickly, but he brought unwelcome news--thelittle bridge that spanned the creek at this point was out.
"We can't get across, can we?" she exclaimed in disappointment.
"We can swim the creek if you're game for it."
"Could we possibly get across?"
"If I didn't expect to get across I'd sure never try it. It'll be awet crossing."
"I couldn't be wetter."
"Hawk asked if you could swim."
"I can't."
"I told him I didn't suppose you could."
"Are we all to go together?"
"He's over now. He signaled a minute ago. I told him I'd get youacross if he'd get you out. It's close to daybreak. Better take offyour coat."
While he strapped her coat to the saddle, she lightened and freedherself as much as possible, disengaged, as he directed, her feet fromthe stirrups, and they started for the creek. At the point he hadchosen for the plunge, he gave her a few admonitions, chiefly to theeffect of doing nothing except to cling to her seat in getting into theflood and getting out. Just as her horse poised beside Laramie's awave of dread swept over her. It was very literally a plunge into thedark. "Are you afraid?" he asked, divining her feeling.
Pride dictated her answer: "No," she said stoutly. "Though, ofcourse," she added with an attempt at lightness, "I'd prefer to crosson a bridge."
"All in getting used to it, I suppose. I guess I've crossed here ahundred times before there was any bridge. Don't get scared if yourhead goes under water when your horse jumps in. The bank here is alittle high, but it's clean jumping. Say when you're ready."
"I'm ready."
"Go!"
With his hand on her bridle, he spoke loudly and sharply, kicked herhorse with one foot and punched his own horse with the other at thesame time. The next instant, gripped by an overpowering fear, andbreathless, Kate felt herself jerked into the air, then she plungedheadlong forward and sank into the boiling flood. Down, down she went,her ears swooning with water, mouth and eyes tight shut, and moving sheknew not where or how until her head rose out of the flood and a voiceyelled above the tumult: "You're all right! Horse's doing fine. Hangon!"
Then she was conscious of a hand clutching her upper arm, a hand sostrong her flesh winced within its grip. And she could feel thepowerful strokes of her horse as he panted and swam under her.
Above the terrifying swirl of the waters, carrying in the hardlydistinguishable light of the breaking day, a mass of debris that sweptabout the two riders, the only sound was the hard breathing of thehorses and a shout repeated by Laramie, until at last it was answeredby Hawk somewhere in the darkness ahead.
Urging the horses to their task, Laramie guided them to where Katecould make out portions of the creek bank. She could realize how fastthey were being carried down stream by the wild sweep of the current.Trees flashed past her like phantoms, as if the bank were mad insteadof the creek. It seemed impossible she could ever make the bank, nowvery near, and get up out of the water; only Laramie's hand locked firmnow in her horse's mane, his strong voice as he urged the horses orcalled to Hawk, gave her the slightest hope of coming out alive.
Laramie cried to her to duck as a cottonwood leaning over the wateralmost tore her cap and hair from her head. The next instant thecottonwood was gone and, looking ahead, she saw a horseman on a slopein the bank, his own horse half submerged. They had reached one ofseveral old fords. Here the two men had purposed to get Kate ashore.But she did not know that this was the last of the ford crossings for amile--the only shelving bank--nor why Laramie made such superhumanefforts to head her horse toward Hawk, to get to where the horse couldground his feet. Hawk, in an effort to catch Kate's bridle, spurreddown to them till his own horse was afloat. Kate's horse struggleddesperately, lost headway and was swept below the ford opening. Thetwo men with shouts, curses and entreaties, guiding their own horses,urged the hapless beast to greater effort; it was evident he could notreach the ford.
"The roan can't make it," shouted Hawk. "Crowd him up to the ledgewhere I can get hold of her."
Hawk, reining his horse hastily about, got him back up the shelvingford, spurred down the bank to where Kate, despite Laramie's efforts,was being driven by the sweep of the water and sprang from his horse.Where Kate's horse struggled at that moment the creek bank rosevertically above the peak of the flood. Deep water gave the horse nochance for a foothold and it swam helplessly. Hawk, running along theledge, awaited his chance. It came at a moment that Laramie succeededin crowding the roan to the bank. Hawk saw the opportunity and heldhis hand out to Kate:
"Reach up!" he shouted.
"Give him both hands!" cried Laramie, punching and pushing her horseagainst the bank. As Kate swept along, her hands upstretched, Hawkcaught her wrists and, bracing himself in the slipping earth, draggedher up and out of the saddle. The roan, with Laramie's hand on hisbridle, swept on downstream. The clay bank, under the strain of thedouble load, gave under Hawk's feet. But without releasing Kate'shands he threw himself flat and, matching his dead weight against thechance of being dragged in, caught her with one arm and flung the otherbackward into the dark. A clump of willow shoots clutched in hissinewy fingers gave him a stay and, putting forth all his strength, hedrew Kate slowly up. She scrambled across his prostrate body to safety.
The force of the gnawing current had already undercut the soft clay.The next instant the whole bank began to sink. Hawk shouted to Kate torun. She saw him struggling in the crumbling earth. Crying out in herexcitement she stretched her hands toward him. He waved her back. Ashe did so, a great section of the bank on which he was strugglingbroke, and in the big, soft splash, Hawk went into the creek.