The Motor Rangers Through the Sierras

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER II.

  BETWEEN TWO FIRES.

  Snarling in very much the manner of an angry cat, the lion, which hadappeared at the mouth of the cave, began to come forward more rapidly.At the same instant, as if by mutual consent, his mate started toadvance from the rear of the cave. It was evident that if they did notwish to be seriously injured, perhaps killed, the Motor Rangers wouldhave to act, and act quickly.

  But what were they to do? Nat it was who solved the question. The floorof the cave was littered with boulders of various sizes, ranging fromstones of a pound or so in weight, up to huge rocks beyond a boy'spower to lift.

  Stooping down swiftly Nat selected a stone a little larger than abaseball, and then throwing himself into a pitching posture, awaitedthe oncoming cougar, approaching from the cave mouth.

  The boy had been the best pitcher the Santa Barbara Academy had everproduced, and his companions saw in a flash that he meant to exercisehis skill now in a way of which he had little dreamed when on thediamond. His hand described an evolution in the air, far too quick tobe followed by the eye. The next instant the stone left his grasp, andswished through the atmosphere.

  Straight and true it sped to its mark.

  And it struck home none too quick. The lion had already crouched for aspring on the defenseless lads, who stood between himself and his mate,when Nat's missile was discharged.

  Crack!

  The sharp noise of the stone's impact with the skull of the crouchingfeline sounded like a rifle shot.

  "Bull's-eye!" yelled Joe excitedly.

  And bull's-eye it was. The rock had a sharp edge which Nat, in hishaste, had not noticed. As it struck the lion's head it did so with thekeen surface foremost. Like a knife it drove its way into the skulland the lion, with a howl of pain and fury, turned, stumbled forward afew paces, and then rolled over.

  Before the others could stop him, Ding-dong Bell, entirely forgettingthe other lion, dashed forward to examine the fallen monster. Theresult of his action was that his career came very near beingterminated then and there. The cougar had only been stunned, and as thestuttering boy gave one of its ears a tug, it leaped erect once moreand struck a blow at him with its chisel-like claws that would havetorn him badly had they struck.

  But Ding-dong, though deliberate in his speech, was quick in action. Heleaped backward like an acrobat, as he saw the mighty muscles tautenfor action, and so escaped being felled by the blow. He could feel it"swish" past his nose, however, and entirely too close to be pleasant.

  In the meantime, Nat, realizing that his best move would be to get totheir arms, had made a flying leap for the auto and seized an automaticrifle of heavy calibre. As Ding-dong leaped back he aimed and fired,but in the darkness he missed, and with a mighty bound the woundedcougar leaped out of the cave and dashed off through the storm into thebrush on the hillside above.

  "One!" exclaimed Nat, like Monte Cristo in the play.

  The others gave a low laugh. They could afford not to worry so muchnow. True, there was one of the cougars still back in the cave, butwith their rifles in their hands the lads had little to fear.

  "I felt for a minute, though, like I did that time the Mexican devilsprang on me near the gulf village," said Nat, recalling one of hismost perilous moments in Lower California.

  But there was little time for conversation. Nat had hardly utteredhis last remark before the cougar at the rear of the cave began togive signs that it too was meditating an attack. There are few animalsthat will not fight desperately when cornered, even a rat making aformidable foe sometimes under such conditions, and cornered thecougar unquestionably was.

  "She's coming," warned Joe in a low voice, as a rumbling growlresounded above the roar of the storm outside.

  "L-l-let her c-c-come," sputtered Ding-dong defiantly.

  "Better climb into the car, boys," said Nat in a whispered tone, "wecan get better aim from an elevation."

  Accordingly they clambered into the tonneau of the motor vehicle, andkneeling on the seat awaited the onslaught which they knew must come ina few seconds.

  "I've half a mind to let her go, if we can without putting ourselves indanger," said Nat, "it doesn't seem fair somehow to shoot down a poorbrute in cold blood."

  "But that poor brute would attack you without hesitation if you layinjured on a trail," Joe reminded him; "these cougars, too, killhundreds of sheep and young calves, just for the sheer love ofkilling, for half of what they kill they never touch."

  "That's right," agreed Nat, "still fair play is a jewel, and----"

  Further words were taken out of his mouth by something that occurredjust at that instant, and settled the fate of the cougar then and there.

  Ding-dong Bell, whose unlucky day it seemed to be, had, in hisexcitement, been leaning far over the back of the tonneau, peeringinto the darkness at the rear of the cave. He was trying to detect theshadowy outlines of the cougar. A few seconds before Joe Hartley hadsaid:--

  "Look out, Ding-dong, or you'll go overboard."

  The stuttering youth's reply had been a scornful snicker. But now,however, he craned his neck just a bit too far. His upper quartersover-balanced his stumpy legs and body, and with a howl that rivalledthe cougar's, he toppled clean over the edge of the tonneau.

  The floor of the cave sloped steeply toward the rear, and whenDing-dong struck it he did not stop. Instead, the momentum lent himby his fall appeared to propel him forward down the sloping floor.He yelled for help as he felt himself rapidly and involuntarily beingborne toward the hidden cougar.

  By some mysterious combination of misfortune, too, the carbide in thelamp, which had not been renewed since they left Santa Barbara, gaveout with a flicker and a fizz at this moment. The cave was plungedinto almost total darkness. Nat's heart came into his throat as herealized that if the cougar was not killed within the next few seconds,Ding-dong's life might pay the forfeit.

  "Good gracious!" shouted Joe above poor Ding-dong's cries, "how are wegoing to see to shoot?"

  "Aim at the eyes," grated out Nat earnestly, "it's our only chance."

  As he spoke there came an angry snarl and a hissing snort. It mingledwith a shout of alarm from Ding-dong, who had now stopped rolling, butwas not yet on his feet. The she-cougar had seen his peril and hadtaken the opportunity to bring down at least one of her enemies.

  Straight up, as if impelled by a powerful steel spring, she shot. Buteven as she was in mid-spring two rifles cracked, and with a convulsivestruggle the great tawny body fell with a thud to the floor of thecave, clawing and scratching and uttering piercing roars and cries.

  "Put her out of her misery," said Nat, as Ding-dong, having regainedhis feet, darted at the top of his speed for the mouth of the cave.

  Once more the rifles blazed away at the two green points of fire whichmarked the wounded cougar's eyes. This time dead silence followedthe reports, which reverberated deafeningly in the confines of thecave. There was no doubt but that the animal was dead. But where wasDing-dong?

  His companion Motor Rangers looked anxiously about them, but could seenothing of him. In the excitement they had not noticed him dart by.Presently, however, a slight noise near the cave month attracted theirattention. There was Ding-dong out in the rain, and drenched to theskin, peering into the cave.

  "C-a-can I c-c-c-come in?" he asked hesitatingly.

  "Yes, and hurry up, too," ordered Nat in as stern a voice as he couldcommand. "Your first duty," he went on, "will be to dig down in theclothes chest and put on dry things. Then you will refill the lampswith carbide, which you ought to have done two days ago, and after thatyou may patch up the tear the wind made in our shelter hood."

  "And--phwit--after that?" inquired Ding-dong with so serious an aspectthat they had to laugh.

  "I'll think up something to keep you out of mischief," said Nat finally.

  While Ding-dong set about his tasks after investing himself in dryclothes, the others skinned the cougar and kindled a fire with somedriftwood that lay about
the cave. Hot coffee was then brewed, andsome of the stores opened. After imbibing several cups of the steamingmixture, and eating numerous slices of bread and butter, the MotorRangers felt better.

  By this time, too, the storm had almost passed over, only a slightdrizzle remaining to tell of the visit of the mountain tempest. Aninvestigation of the cave failed to show any trace of a regular den init, and the boys came to the conclusion, which was probably correct,that the cougars had merely taken to it for shelter from the storm.However that was, all three of them felt that they had had a mightynarrow escape. Ding-dong inwardly resolved that from that time onhe would take care to have the lamps packed with carbide, for Nat'srelation of how nearly the sudden cessation of the light had cost himhis life gave the stuttering youth many qualms.

  "I guess the storm is about over," said Joe, looking out of the cavewhile holding a tin cup of coffee in his hand.

  "I see enough blue sky to m-m-m-make a pair of pants for everys-s-s-s-sailor in the navy," remarked Ding-dong, who had joined him.

  "That's a sure sign of clearer weather," said Nat, "come on, boys,pack up the cups and get the car ready and we'll go ahead."

  "Where are we going to stop to-night?" asked Joe. "I guess we can't bemany miles from Lariat, can we?"

  "I'll see," rejoined Nat, diving into his breast pocket and pulling outa map stoutly mounted on tough linen to prevent tearing. He pored overit for a moment.

  "The map puts Lariat about fifteen miles from here," he said.

  "What sort of a p-p-p-lace is it?" Ding-dong wished to know.

  "A small post-office station," rejoined Nat. "I don't imagine thatthere is even a hotel there."

  Ding-dong, who didn't object to the luxuries of life, sighed. Somehow,he had been looking forward to stopping at a hotel that night. He saidnothing, however, well knowing how his complaints would be received.

  The auto was soon moving out of the cave in which they had had soexciting an encounter. Nat was at the wheel and his two companions inthe tonneau. The faces of all were as beaming as the weather had nowturned out. These boys dearly loved the sensation of taking to the roadand proceeding on into the unknown and adventurous.

  The rough strip separating the road, as we must in courtesy call it,from the steep rock-face in which the cave lay, was speedily traversedand the auto's nose headed north. For some time they bowled along ata slow speed, the track growing rapidly rougher and rougher, till itseemed that nothing on wheels could get over it.

  "What's the m-m-m-matter?" asked Ding-dong suddenly of Joe Hartley, whofor a bumpy mile or two had sat with his head cocked on one side as iflistening intently for something.

  "I'm listening for a puncture," grinned Joe, resuming his posture ofattention.

  As the road grew rougher the walls of the valley began to close in.They grew more lofty as the pass grew narrower, till only a thin stripof blue sky showed at the summit. The rugged slopes were clothed witha sparse growth of pine timber and chaparral. Immense faces of rockcropped out among these. The whole scene had a wild and savage aspect.

  Suddenly they reached a spot where the road took an abrupt dipdownward. From the summit the descent looked as steep as the wall ofa house. Fortunately, they carried an emergency brake, so that thesteepness of the declivity did not alarm them. Without hesitatingNat allowed the car to roll over the summit and begin the drop. Theexhilaration of the rapid motion made him delay applying his emergencyjust as soon as he should have, and the car had been running atconsiderable speed when there came a sudden shout from Joe:--

  "Look, Nat! Look!"

  The boy, who had been adjusting his spark lever, looked up suddenly.They were just rounding a curve, beyond which the road pitched downmore steeply than ever.

  At the bottom of the long hill stood an obstacle. Nat at a glancemade it out as a stage coach of the old-fashioned "thorough-bracetype." It was stationary, however, and its passengers stood about itin scattered groups, while, so far as Nat could see, no horses wereattached to it.

  "Better go slow. There seems to be something the matter down there atthe bottom of the grade," the boy remarked.

  At the same instant his hand sought the emergency brake lever and hepushed it forward.

  There was a loud crack as he did so, and an alarmed look flashed acrosshis face as the lever suddenly felt "loose" in his hand. The car seemedto give an abrupt leap forward and plunge on more swiftly than ever.

  Below him Nat could see the scattered figures pointing upwardexcitedly. He waved and yelled to warn them that he had no controlover the car which was tearing forward with the speed of the wind. Theordinary brake had no effect on it under the speed it had now gathered.Lurching and plunging like a ship at sea, it rushed onward.

  Directly in its path, immovable as a rock, was the stage coach. Allthree of the Motor Rangers' bronzed, sunburned faces blanched as theyrushed onward to what seemed inevitable disaster.