Valley Thieves

by Max Brand

  Silver said: "But we've found one good chance for climbing out of this place."

  "What chance did we find?" asked Taxi curiously.

  "Those trees—some of them are near the edge of the cliff," said Silver.

  "Use one of 'em for a ladder?" I asked.

  "Yes," said Silver.

  "That would be all right if we could chop one of 'em down," said Clonmel, "and lean it against the rock."

  "There's not even a hand ax in the lot of us," said Taxi. "And who can jump thirty feet from a standing start?"

  "We could girdle the easiest tree with fire and burn it down," I suggested.

  "That would take hours," said Silver, "and we haven't hours. We may not have more than a few minutes before the Carys have another set of riflemen up there on the edge of the cliffs. They've been marching up through the hills—you can depend on it—ever since we came in here."

  "No way of chopping the tree down," said Clonmel. "No way of burning it down in time—then how can you make a ladder of it, Jim?"

  "We'll try another dodge," said Silver. "Bill, are you good with a rope?"

  I hesitated.

  "Not the way you people are good with horses or guns—or wolves!" said I.

  "You can daub a rope on a cow, and that's all I want. Look back there at that tree. Not the tallest one, but the one that's nearest the edge of the cliff. You see that one?"

  I could see it, and nodded.

  "Take a rope off one of the saddles and climb up there. Better take two ropes, while you're about it. When you get close to the top of the tree, try to noose the rope over one of the projections of rock that stick up above the edge of the cliff. Then pull in and see how close that will swing the top of the tree to the cliff."

  There it was!

  It was not salvation for us, exactly, but it was a hope of salvation. I stared at Jim Silver for one instant and wondered how that man ever could be really cornered by bad luck or the hatred of his enemies. His brain was too cool and his eye too quick to miss openings. And here, where I would have sworn that nothing could be done, he was already giving us our chance!

  I got the ropes, went to the tree, and started climbing. And as I climbed, I could hear the shrill voice of Chuck informing his friends outside the ravine about my progress.

  "Avon's got a pair of ropes. He's noosed them around his neck. Maybe the fool's goin' to hang himself. Now he's climbin' a tree. And now he's up close to the top. Now he's swingin' his rope. Now he's daubed it onto a rock. He hauls in tight and hard. The top of the tree swings in. He's goin' to make that tree into a ladder to the top of the cliff! He's goin' to give 'em a way out! Crowd in! Crowd in! Get ready to make a rush!"

  I thought, in fact, that the trick was as good as done. I had hauled the rope in, hand over hand, and the tree was bending far over with my weight and the strength of my pull, when the narrow trunk of the evergreen—there must have been a deep flaw in the wood—cracked off right under my feet. I found myself entangled in the foliage, hanging onto the rope for grim life, and shooting forward through the air.

  The whole treetop was swinging in with me, and that was what made the cushion when I crashed against the cliff. Otherwise, every bone in my body would have cracked, because the swing inward was a full twenty feet, I should say. As it was, I bumped hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

  A lucky thing, then, that I had two lariats instead of one, because that gave me a rope line of nearly eighty feet, and that was enough. I had a ten-foot fall from the end of the line, at that, but Silver and the others piled some brush together, and that was a safe mattress to drop into.

  As I picked myself up, I could hear Chuck shouting the news from his bird's nest. He was happy about it, the young scoundrel. He was yelling that I'd smashed up—no, that I was on my feet, but that I was just about finished—that the tree business was finished for good and all.

  Well, as I stood there, rubbing my rope-burned hands together, I was pretty willing to give up any idea of tree ladders.

  But the next moment Chuck yipped out some information that brought all four of us to life.

  "Will is comin'!" he shouted. "I can see Will Cary comin'!"

  I looked far up toward the crest of the ravine, away above us, and there was enough moonlight to show me figures, or what might be figures, a mile or two miles away, stirring vaguely against the sky as they climbed down over an edge of rock.

  CHAPTER XIX

  The Second Attempt

  IT seemed to me suddenly that young Chuck, up there in his post of vantage, was like an announcer, telling a crowd what fighters were entering the bull ring, and we were the bulls penned in the center.

  I looked at Silver. Clonmel and Taxi were looking at him too. He simply said:

  "There's another tree, almost as close to the cliff. Try that one, Bill."

  Taxi got me the ropes. I went up that tree in a furious burst of effort. The yelling of the Cary tribe outside the ravine affected me more than applause. I climbed as though a panther were after me, reaching up with its claws every moment to drag me down. Because it was plain that if we could not get to the cliff before Will Cary and his party arrived there, we were finished utterly.

  This tree was heavier and sturdier in every way than the first one I had tried. There was no chance of its breaking off under me, but for the same reason it would be harder to pull the head of it in toward the rock; besides, it was farther from the stone wall. However, I got the noose of the first rope over a projecting stone and hauled away. Then big Clonmel came up and called to me to throw the second rope. I did that, and passed the end of it down to him. In that way we hauled in till the head of the tree was inclined well over. We could see then that the farther we hauled, the more we could bring down the level of the ropes below the edge of the cliff. There was an eight-foot gap remaining that we would have to hand ourselves across.

  And how were we to get across that gap, all of us, while Chuck was posted up high, ready to tell his family the instant we were off the ground and all committed to the tree? Why, the Carys would pour into the ravine and pick us off the tree like so many crows.

  I could hear Chuck shouting: "They're goin' up the tree. Get ready, all of you! The minute they're all off the ground, I'll give you the word. You can give 'em hell!"

  Of course, they could give us hell! As I tied the end of my rope around the tree, I looked vaguely about me. The voice of Silver came strongly up to us:

  "Harry, hand yourself across the ropes to the rock. Bill, you follow him. Harry will give you a lift on the other side."

  "I'll stay here till you come," answered Clonmel's shout.

  "I'm coming right away," cried Silver. "Taxi, light the grass on that side of the creek."

  Still I could not understand the idea, until I saw Taxi on one side of the creek and Silver on the other, kindling the grass here and there. Then it was clear.

  The wind that blew was passing down the canyon, and it ought to sweep a wall of fire through the valley. Behind that fire and smoke, which would hold out the Cary clan, we could all get up to safety, perhaps. All except Frosty! I wondered if Silver would kill the wolf rather than let him fall into the hands of the Cary outfit again.

  Then I heard Chuck yelling out the news that the grass in the valley was being lighted. But already the crackling sound of the fire was enough to warn the Carys. The tall, dry grass seemed to be drenched with oil, it picked up the flames so fast. There was a running wall of fire in no time, with the smoke flowing back above the flames, outdistanced by them. And outside the valley, I could hear the Carys howling like angry devils.

  I had something close at hand to pay attention to now. That was Clonmel, who was handing himself across the ropes, pulling himself along with powerful arm hauls. The whole tree staggered and shook with the violence of his efforts. He reached the farther side of the ropes, gave his immense body one pendulous swing, and thereon he was established on the safe shore!

  It meant that we had an a
dvance guard established; it meant that we had a fighting force ready to shelter the rest of our retreat, and for the first time a very real hope came up in me. I was glad to hear the voice of Chuck shrilling:

  "Clonmel's across! He's on the rock. Bill Avon is throwin' the rifles across to him. They're all goin' to get free except the wolf! They'll get loose, unless you do something! Hey, Pete, Tom, Walt—crowd in and take a chance, or they'll get away!"

  I had tossed the two rifles into the hands of Clonmel, by that time, and now I swung out on the ropes in my turn. It was ticklish work. The drop below me was enough to smash me to bits. I didn't dare to look down. And every time I loosened the grip of one hand and slid it forward along the rope, I felt sure that the hold of the other hand was slipping away!

  Clonmel kept shouting encouragement to me. My arms began to shake, and my whole body was shuddering with fear. A rush of heat and smoke burst up around me, carried by a backwash of the air currents. Little glowing sparks and flaming grasses showered against my face and scorched it. I drew in a breath of hot smoke and gas that almost stifled me. I stopped moving; I stopped struggling.

  The voice of Clonmel thundered through the fiery mist: "Come on, you weak-kneed quitter! Come on, you yellow coward!"

  Somehow that abuse gave me new strength. It gave me anger in the place of fear, and I struggled forward. The great arm of Clonmel swept out over me like a crane. His grip fastened in my collar, and he dragged me lightly up over the edge of the rock.

  I sat there, gasping, reaching for my rifle and getting ready to fight in the battle I was sure must come.

  I saw the fire running like yellow horses with smoking manes down the length of the ravine. I heard the shouting of the Carys outside the valley and the wild voice of Chuck urging them to close in—to get into the creek and wade up the water, where the fire could do them no harm.

  Well, I had not thought of that. They could come up the creek, of course, though it might be rather unpleasant work ducking between flame and smoke and water; elements in none of which a man could breathe.

  Taxi slid out of the top of the tree and came across the ropes like a wildcat. He was as light as a feather— the most active man I've ever seen.

  When Taxi was beside the two of us, I noticed that Silver was no longer on the ground but that he was climbing, slowly and painfully, and there was no sight of Frosty on the ground. Then, as Silver neared the top of the tree, I had a good look at him, and made out that he was carrying Frosty on his shoulders !

  It stopped my heart, somehow, to see that.

  They came into plain view at the end of the ropes, and I saw Frosty embracing the neck of his master with his forepaws, exactly like a trusting child!

  I don't suppose it was so wonderful. A thousand animals have done harder tricks than that. But just then it seemed to me that the soul of a human being must be inclosed within the pelt of Frosty.

  But when they came to the ropes, how was that burden to be taken across ?

  Mind you, Frosty weighed a full hundred and fifty pounds.

  But Silver had thought the thing out on his way up the tree. He got out under the ropes, hanging by his heels and his hands, and with a word to Frosty, he made the big animal crawl painfully out into the cradle that was furnished for him in this fashion.

  Precarious? I wouldn't have done it for any human being, let alone for any animal. But then, for that matter, I haven't the strength to do such things.

  Silver started hitching himself forward. I saw Frosty sway and almost fall, thrown to one side by the violence of that bucking movement. I saw the big teeth of the wolf fasten in the coat of his master, to steady himself.

  And then, from the mouth of the ravine, a rifle sounded! It sounded, a fraction of a second after a hornet buzz whirred past my ears. I looked down the canyon and saw that the grass fire had actually gutted the valley as quickly as all this, and that there was now a chance for the Cary clan to press in among the rocks and open fire.

  I stretched out on the edge of the cliff and took aim; Taxi was beside me; only Clonmel remained ready to grab Frosty and lift him from Silver.

  Taxi began to shoot. There was another shot from the mouth of the ravine. I opened on the probable spot. The thundering echoes of the guns filled the air, and the Cary rifleman who had ventured in so far ceased firing.

  When I turned my head, it was because I heard a groan from Clonmel. I thought that it was because a bullet had struck him. Then I saw it was merely joyous relief as his mighty hand caught Frosty by the scruff of the neck and hauled him up to safety.

  Silver followed the wolf. A knife slash severed the ropes and let the tree spring straight once more. And there we were, at last safely across the break in our trail and ready to fight for our lives on an equal footing.

  What sticks in my mind most, from that moment, was the savage shouting of Chuck Cary:

  "Silver—Taxi—Clonmel—Avon—we're goin' to get the whole four of you. Will Cary's goin' to eat you up like yeller coyotes! We're goin' to have your scalps!"

  I only laughed, weakly and foolishly. Will Cary, compared with Silver, seemed a futile little pigmy beside a giant.

  CHAPTER XX

  A Quarrel

  WE went up that box canyon like four cats afraid of dogs. We went with Silver in the lead, and Frosty ahead of his master. I can tell you what, we were glad to have Frosty then, with ears that could hear like trumpeting noises that were soundless whispers to our human senses, and with a nose that could see through rocks and around trees or mountains. Furthermore, the wind was blowing down the canyon toward us, and, therefore, Frosty ought to have a doubly good chance of reporting the slightest danger.

  But we went up that broken ravine without finding a sign of Will Cary and his manhunters!

  Not that I blame them. It was one thing to look forward to lining themselves up behind shelter along the top of the cliff and quietly potting four helpless men below them. It was quite another matter to have to face in equal battle men like Silver and Taxi. At any rate, there was no sign of Will Cary.

  We climbed on up the valley, got to the highest divide, and then turned down a side shoot that brought us out, once more, on the top of the circular cliffs that ran around the Cary Valley.

  Jim Silver stood there for a long time, looking through the moonlight toward the Cary house, all gathered up in trees as in a gleaming cloud.

  Taxi stood back with me. Clonmel was nearest to Silver.

  I heard Taxi murmur: "Who is Clonmel?"

  I shook my head. Then I saw that Taxi was not asking questions of me, but of himself. He was thinking aloud.

  "What hold has he got on Jim?" muttered Taxi. "He can steal away Parade and Frosty, and nothing happens to him. He can act as though he had a right on Jim. The big, clumsy, thick-witted fool!"

  That was it. Jealousy!

  Well, I couldn't blame Taxi. The legend had it that he had risked his life times enough in the service of Jim Silver; the legend had it that he was the one man who had been admitted to intimate friendship by Silver. And now he had to see an interloper take his place! There was no question about it, as Clonmel stood beside Silver and dropped his great hand familiarly on the shoulder of that famous man.

  "What are you thinking of, Jim?" asked Clonmel.

  "You tell me, Harry," said Silver.

  "You're thinking about Parade. And Christian."

  Silver nodded.

  "They're over there now," he said.

  "They're swarming up the canyon behind us," suggested Taxi suddenly, almost angrily.

  Neither Clonmel nor Silver turned to him. Clonmel simply shook his head.

  "They've had enough for one night," he declared. "They've got two wounded men, and a bullet through the arm of Chuck. They've missed us, and they won't want to try their luck until they have daylight to shoot by."

  I saw Taxi start. I saw his hands grip hard. He was angry because of the calm surety with which Clonmel attempted to read the minds of the Cary out
fit. I sympathized with him more than a little.

  Silver said: "I don't think they'll press us very closely again tonight. The question is: What do they expect of us now?"

  "They expect us to get back to civilization and horses as fast as we can," said Clonmel, "where we'll gather a posse and come storming up here to make trouble for 'em."

  "By the time we arrived," said Silver, "they'd have everything smoothed out. Parade would be gone, and Barry Christian on him. And—perhaps Christian has gone already."

  "Of course he's gone," said Taxi.

  "No," answered Clonmel, "Christian is still there with them. He thinks that he has plenty of time before he makes his start for the tall timber. Nobody can follow the man who rides Parade, and Christian knows it."

  There was good sense in that remark, but again I could see that Taxi was angered.

  "You're right, Harry," said Silver. "Christian and Parade—they're both together somewhere inside that clump of trees. What are we going to do about it?"

  There was a silence after this. The question seemed to me to have an answer that was too obvious. Of course, we would all go home and give thanks, the rest of our lives, that we had escaped from so much danger between sunset and dawn of one night.

  But then the voice of Taxi said sharply, bitterly: "We'll go back there and try to get Christian. We'll go back there and try to get Parade."

  I looked at him and started to laugh. The laughter broke down suddenly. Silver and Clonmel had turned toward Taxi, and Silver said:

  "That's what I'll have to do, of course. But I'm going alone."

  "Oh, bah!" answered Taxi. "You know that we'll have to trail along."

  I stared till my eyes ached and I forgot the pain of my burned face. Go back to the Cary house ? Go back to that den of snakes and lions?

  "Something's upset you, Taxi," said Silver. "What's the matter?"

  "Honor!" sneered Taxi. "For the honor of Jim Silver we're going back there to try to take another fall out of Barry Christian—and to get a horse! Honor be damned—it's murder, and you know it!"