CHAPTER XX
FIDELITY
Meantime Pat was running at top speed across the desert. Yet he wastrying to understand this strange call to duty. Roused from fitfulslumber by trampling hoofs, he had felt an excited hand jerking him tohis feet, and after that a slender rope looped round his lower jaw. Thenhe had been urged, with a wriggling form on his bare back, frantic heelsdrumming his sides, and a strange voice impelling him onward past asurging crowd of horsemen, still only half awake, out into the open.When he was well in the fore, he had found himself crowded to hisutmost--over sand-dune, into arroyo, across the level--around himthundering hoofs, panting horses, silent men, all speeding forward inthe glorious moonlight. It was a strange awakening, yet he had notentertained thoughts of rebellion, despite the fact that he had notliked the flaying rope, the soft digging heels, the absence of bridleand saddle. It was strange; it was not right. None of it had checked upwith any item of his experience. Yet, oddly enough, he had not rebelled.
Nor was he harboring thoughts of rebellion now. Racing onward, smartingwith each swing of the lash, he found himself somehow interested solelyin holding his own with the other horses. Suddenly, alert to theirmovements, he saw a cleft open in their surging ranks, made by the fallof an exhausted horse. Yet the others did not stop. They galloped on,unheeding, though he himself was jerked up. Then followed a swiftexchange of words, and then the unhorsed man mounted behind Pat's newmaster. Carrying a double load now, Pat nevertheless dashed ahead at hisformer speed, stumbling with his first steps, but soon regaining hisstride and overtaking the others. And though it cost him strainingeffort, he felt rewarded for his pains when one of the men uttered agrunt which he interpreted as approval. But it was all very strange.
A canyon loomed up on his left. He had hardly seen the black openingwhen he was swung toward it. He plunged forward with the other horses,and was the first to enter the canyon's yawning mouth. Between its highwalls, however, he found himself troubled by black shadows. Many of themreached across his path like projections of rock, and more than once hefaltered in his stride. But after passing through two or three in safetyhe came at length to understand them and so returned to his wontedself-possession.
But he was laboring heavily now. His heart was jumping and pounding, hisbreath coming in gasps, but he held to the trail, moving ever deeperinto the hills, until he burst into a basin out of which to the rightled a narrow canyon. Then he slowed down and, turning into the canyon,which wound and twisted due north and south in the bright moonlight, hecontinued at a slower pace. But his heart no longer was in the task. Theweight on his back seemed heavier; there was a painful swelling of hisankles. He knew the reason for this pain. It had come from unwontedcontact with hard surfaces and frequent stepping on loose stones in thisstrange haste with a strange people in the hills. Yet he kept on,growing steadily more weary, yet with pride ever to the fore, until afaint light began to streak the overhead sky, stealing cautiously downthe ragged walls of the canyon. Then he found himself pulled into awalk.
He was facing a narrow defile that wound up among the overhanging crags.Glad of the privilege of resting, for a walk was a rest with him now, heset forward into the uninviting pass. Up and up he clambered, crowdingnarrowly past boulders, rounding on slender ledges, up and ever up. Ashe ascended he saw gray-white vales below, felt the stimulus of a rarerair, and at last found his heart fluttering unpleasantly in the higheraltitude. Yet he held grimly to his task, and, when broad daylight wasstreaming full upon him, he found himself on a wide shelf of rock, aledge falling sheer on one side to unseen depths, towering on the otherto awe-inspiring heights. Here he came to a halt. And then, so tired washe, so faint with exhaustion, so racked of body and spirit, that he sankupon the cool rock even before the men could clear themselves from him,and lay there on his side, his eyes closed, his lungs greedily suckingair.
The glare of full daylight aroused him. Regaining his feet, he staredabout him. He saw many strange-looking men, and near them many dirty andbedraggled horses. He turned his eyes outward from the ledge. He sawaround him bristling peaks, and below them, far below, a trailingcanyon, winding in and out among hills toward the rising sun, andterminating in a giant V, beyond which, a connecting thread between itssloping sides, lay an expanse of rolling mesa. It was far from him,however--very, very far--and he grew dizzy at the view, finding himselfmore and more unnerved by the height. At length he turned away and swepthis eyes again over the horses, where he was glad to find the rangysorrel. Then he turned back to the men, some of whom were standing,others squatting, but all in moody silence.
As he looked he grew aware that a pair of dark eyes were fixed upon him.He stared back, noting the man's long hair and painted features and thefamiliar glow of admiration in his eyes. Believing him to be his newmaster, he continued to regard him soberly until the man, with a gruntand a grimace, rose and approached him. Pat stood very still under arigid examination. The man rubbed his ankles, turned up his hoofs,looked at his teeth; and at the conclusion of all this Pat felt that hehad met with approval. Also, he realized that he rather approved of theman. Then came a volley of sounds he did not understand, and he foundhimself touched with grave apprehension. But not for long. The man ledhim across the ledge to a tiny stream trickling down the rocks, walkingwith a quiet dignity he long since had learned to connect withkindliness. This and the fact that he led him to water determined hisattitude.
Toward noon, as he was brooding over hunger pangs, he was startled byexcited gutturals among the men. Gazing, he saw one of the men standingon the edge of the shelf, pointing out through the long canyon. With theothers, Pat turned his eyes that way. Between the distant V dotting themesa beyond rode a body of horsemen. They were not more than specks tohis eyes, proceeding slowly, so slowly, in fact, that while he could seethey were moving he yet could not see them move as they crawled acrossthe span between the canyon's mouth. Interested, gripped in thecontagion of the excitement round him, he kept his eyes upon the distantspecks until the sun had changed to another angle. But even after thislapse of time, so distant were the horsemen, so wide the canyon's mouth,they had traveled only half-way across the span. Yet he continued towatch, wondering at the nervousness around him, conscious of steadilyincreasing heat upon him, until the last of the slow-moving specks,absorbed one by one by the canyon's wall, disappeared from view. Then heturned his eyes elsewhere.
The men also turned away, but continued their excited talk. But eventhey after a time relapsed into silence. What it was all about Pat didnot know. He knew it was something very serious, and suddenly fear cameto him. He saw some of the men lie down as if to sleep, and he fearedthat they intended to remain here for ever, in this place absolutelydestitute of herbage. But after a time, made sluggish by the attitude ofthe men, he himself attempted to drowse. But the heat pulsating up offthe rocks discouraged him, and he soon abandoned the attempt, standingmotionless in the hot sun.
A change came over him. He took to brooding over his manydiscomforts--hunger pangs, loss of sleep, bothersome flies, the pain ofhis swollen ankles. As the day advanced his ankles swelled more, andgrew worse, the flies became more troublesome, and his inner gnawingsmore pronounced. So the time went on and he brooded through the stillwatches of the afternoon, through the soft stirrings of evening, on intonight again. With the coming of night light breezes rose from the spacesbelow to spur his fevered body into something of its wonted vigor. Andthe night brought also preparations among the men to journey on. This hewelcomed, even more than the cooling zephyrs.
There was some delay. His master entered upon a dispute with thehorseless man. The voices became excited and rose to vehement heights.But presently they subsided when Pat himself, anxious to be active,sounded a note of protest. Yet the argument proved to his benefit.Instead of mounting him behind his master, the odd man swung up behindanother man on the sorrel. Then he was permitted to move forward, and ashe approached the narrow defile he sounded another nicker, now ofgratification.
T
he pass dropped almost sheer in places. As he descended, more than oncehe was compelled to slide on stiffened legs. In this at first he feltecstatic danger thrills. But only at first. Soon he wearied of it, andhe was glad when he struck the bottom, where, after being guided out ofshadow and into broad moonlight, he found himself moving to the west ina deep canyon. With the other horses he burst into a canter, andcontinued at a canter hour after hour, following the winding andtwisting canyon until daylight, with its shadows creeping away beforehim, revealed to his tired eyes a stretch of mesa ahead, dotted withinviting clumps of bunch-grass. Then of his own volition he came to astop and fell to grazing. Soon all the horses were standing with mouthsto earth, feeding eagerly.
The men, sitting for a time in quiet conversation, finally dismounted,laughing now and then, and casting amused glances toward the blackhorse.
Soon they mounted again to take the trail. Instead of riding with theother on the sorrel, the odd man swung up on Pat's back behind hismaster. But as Pat no longer suffered from hunger, he complacentlyaccepted the return of the double load. Then all moved forward. Patjogged out of the canyon, turning to the right on the desert, and movedrapidly north in the shadow of the hills. He held to his stride, andtoward noon, rounding a giant ridge projecting into the desert from thehills, he saw ahead on his right, perhaps two miles distant across abasin, the mouth of another canyon. Evidently his master saw it also,and obviously it contained danger, for he jerked Pat down to a walk.Almost instantly he knew that the danger was real, for the man, soundinga sharp command to the others, brought him to a full stop. Then followedan excited discussion, and, when it ended, Pat, gripped in vagueuneasiness, found himself urged forward at top speed. Yet in a dim wayhe knew what was wanted of him. He flung himself into a long stride anddashed across the wide basin, across the mouth of the canyon, into theshadow of the hills again. Breathless, he slackened his pace with thirtyexcited horses around him, mad swirling clouds of dust all about, andbefore him the oppressive stillness of the desert. They were safely pastthe danger zone.
He pressed on at a slow canter. Ahead the mesa revealed numeroussand-dunes, large and small, rising into the monotonous skyline.Plunging among them, he mounted some easily, others he skirted aseasily, and once, to avoid an unusually large one, he dropped down intothe bed of an arroyo, traveled along its dry course, and then clamberedup on the desert. But it was wearying work, and, becoming ever moreaware of his double load, he began to chafe with dissatisfaction. Yet heheld to his gait, hopeful of better things--he was always hopeful ofbetter things now--until he reached another dune, larger than any as yetencountered, when once more he broke out of his stride to circle itsbottom. As he did so, of his own volition he checked himself. Dead aheadhe saw horses scattered about, and beyond the horses, rising limply inthe noon haze, a thin column of smoke. Also, he felt both his ridersstiffen. Then on the midday hush rose the crack of firearms from thedirection of the camp.
His master lifted a shrill voice. He felt a mighty pull at his head. Heswung around like a flash. Then came the flaying of a rope and franticurging of heels. He plunged among the surging horses, dancing andwhirling excitedly, and out into the open beyond. He set his teethgrimly, and raced headlong to the south, galloping furiously, tearingblindly over the desert. He headed straight for the distant basin,straight for the mouth of the canyon, hurtling forward, strugglingmightily under his double load. He did not know it, but he was speedinginto a tragic crisis.
The others overtook him. They were carrying but single loads. But theydid not pass him. He saw to that. He burst forward into even greaterspeed, clung to it grimly, forged into a position well in the lead. Andhe held this place--around him frenzied horses, frantic riders; behindhim, to the distant rear, shot after shot echoing over the desert;before him the baking sands, shimmering heat-waves, sullen and silent.He raced on, swinging up over dunes, dropping into hollows, speedingacross flats, mounting over dunes again, on and on toward the basin andthe mouth of the canyon--and protection.
But again disaster.
Suddenly, out of the canyon poured the cheerful notes of a bugle. On thevibrant wings of the echoes, streaming into the basin from the canyon,swept a body of flying horsemen. Instantly he checked himself. Then hismaster sounded a shrill outcry, swung his head around violently, andlashed him forward again. He hurtled headlong, dashing toward thedistant ridge, the peninsula jutting out into the desert. Grimly heflung out along this new course. But he kept his eyes to the left. Hesaw the horsemen there also swerve, saw them spread out like a fan, andfelt his interest kindle joyously. For this was a race! It was a racefor that ridge! And he must win! He must do this thing, forinstinctively he knew that beyond it lay safety. There he could flee tosome haven, while cut off from it, cut off by these steady-riding men onhis left, he must submit to wretched defeat. So he strained himselfharder and burst into fresh speed, finding himself surprised that hecould. In the thrill of it he forgot his double load, forgot theclose-pressing horses, forgot irritating dust. On he galloped, racingforward with machine-like evenness--on his left the parallelinghorsemen, to his rear yelling and shooting, on his right his own men andhorses, and for them he felt he must do big things.
Suddenly the shooting in his rear ceased. Evidently these men hadreceived some warning from the riders on his left. Then he awoke toanother truth. The horsemen on his left were gaining. It troubled him,and he cast measuring eyes to the front. He saw that he was pursuing ashorter line to the ridge; he believed he still could reach it first. Soagain he strained on, whipping his legs into movement till they seemedabout to snap. But the effort hurt him and he discovered that he wasbecoming woefully tired. Also, the double weight worried him. It had notbecome lighter with the miles, nor had he grown stronger. Yet hegalloped on with thundering hoofs, the tranquil desert before him, thethud of carbines against leather to the left, behind him ominoussilence. But he kept his eyes steadily to the left, and presently heawoke to something else there, something that roused him suddenly and insome way whipped his conscience. For now he saw a white figure amid thekhaki, racing along with them--a part of them and yet no part of them--afamiliar figure wearing a familiar bandage. This for a brief momentonly. Then he took to measuring distances again; saw that the cavalrymenwere holding to the course steadily, racing furiously as he himself wasracing for the ridge. Would he win?
A shrill outcry from his master, and he found himself checked with ajerk. It was unexpected, sudden, and he reared. The movement shook offthe second man. Dropping back upon all-fours, Pat awoke to the reliefthe loss of this load gave him. Grimly determining to hold to thisrelief, he dashed ahead, following the guidance of his master in yetanother direction, hurtled away before the second man could mount again.
He found that he was speeding in a direction almost opposite from theridge. He did not understand this. But his regret was not long lived.Casting his eyes to his left in vague expectancy of seeing the familiarspot of white again, he saw only his own men and horses, and beyond themthe smiling desert. Puzzled, he gazed to the right. Here he saw thecavalrymen, and though puzzled more, he yet kept on with all his power.As he ran he suddenly awoke to the presence of a new body of horsemen onhis distant left, a smaller band than the cavalrymen, men withoutuniforms, most of them hatless, all yelling. He remembered this yell,and now he understood. He was speeding toward the mouth of the canyon;had been turned completely around. And thus it was, he knew, that thehorsemen once on his left were now on his right, and the madly yellinggroup at his rear was now on his left. He awoke to another realization.This was a race again, a race with three new entrants now--all threemaking toward the canyon. Would he win?
He fell to studying the flanking groups. On his right, riding easily,bent to the winds, their heavy horses swinging rhythmically, theiraccoutrements rattling, galloped the cavalry--steady, sure ofthemselves, well in hand. On his left, riding furiously, withoutformation, dashed the smaller group of riders--their horses wranglingamong themselves, one or two frequently bucking, all
flinging forward inexcited disorder. This disorder, this evident nervousness, he feared. Heknew somehow that the first real trouble would come from this source. Heknew men to that extent. And suddenly his fears were realized. With thethree converging lines of direction drawing closer, and the mouth of thecanyon but a short distance away, out of this group on his left came anasty rifle-fire, followed by a mighty chorus of yells. There was aresult at once. Close beside him a horse stumbled; the man astride thehorse was thrown headlong; from the cavalrymen on his right came asingle shrill, piercing outcry--a cry to desist! But he did notunderstand this. Nor did he heed it. Galloping forward, eyes upon theever-nearing canyon, he at length became grimly conscious of approachingdefeat--of the firm and ruthless closing in upon him from either side ofthe two bands. And now, and not till now, realizing as he did that thething was beyond him, that he could not reach the canyon first--now, andnot till now, though soul and body were wrecked by exhaustion, Patabated his speed.
Instantly pandemonium broke loose. He heard the firing on his leftincreasing. He felt his master make ready to return it. He saw othersaround him, twisting vengefully into position, open with repeatingrifles. Then the cavalrymen, evidently forced into it by the others,swung to the fray with their carbines, which began to boom on his right.The whole basin echoed and re-echoed sharp reports. Across his eyesburst intermittent flames. His ears rang with shots and yells. Theshooting became heavier. Bullets sang close about him--seemedcentered--as if the enemy would cut down his master at once and disruptthe others through his loss. The bullets sang closer still. And nowimmediately about him men and horses dropped, upsetting other riders,tumbling over sound horses--all in a seething chaos. He became dazed.His eyes were blinded with the flashes, and his ears ached with thecrash and tumult. He grew faint. A dizziness seized him. But on helabored, his head aching, his eyes growing dimmer, his limbs numb andrebellious, his heart thumping in sullen rebellion, his ears burstingwith the uproar.
Another change swept over him. Mist leaped before his eyes. The roaringin his ears subsided. His legs flew off--he had no legs! The mist becamea film. Yet he could see--see faintly. He saw a mad jumble of flying menand horses--a riotous mixture of color, arms, and firearms whirling andinterlaced, a grim, struggling mass in death-grips. It sweptclose--crashed over him, struck him full. He felt the impact--thenanother. The ground rose and struck him. And now there fell upon him agreat and wonderful peace--and a blank--then a voice, a familiar voice,and he drifted into unconsciousness.
He was wakened by a fiery liquid in his throat. He slowly opened hiseyes. He saw men and horses, many of them, standing or reclining insmall groups. He saw them between the legs of a group immediately aroundhim--men gazing down at him pitifully. As he lay thus dazed he heard thefamiliar voice again. It was sounding his name. He struggled to hisfeet. Steadying himself against his dizziness, he looked curiously atthe young man standing before him. And suddenly he recognized him. Thiswas his young master with the white around his arm and neck--the youngman who had ridden him into the Mexican settlement, and who had been sogood to him there, giving him generous quantities of alfalfa. He--Butthe voice was sounding again.
"You poor dumb brute!" said Stephen, quietly; and Pat liked the pettinghe received. "You've just come through hell! But--but if they get youagain--anywhere, friend of mine--they'll wade through hell themselves todo it." He was silent. "Pat, old boy," he concluded, finally, "you'regoing back home! I--I'm through!"
A strange thing took place in Pat. Hearing this voice now, and seeingthe owner of it, though he had seen him and heard his voice many timesjust before this last heartbreaking task under a strange master, hesuddenly found himself thinking of the little ranch beside the river,and of his loving mistress, and also the cold and cruel Mexican hostler.And, thinking of them, he found himself thinking also of another, onewho had accompanied him and his mistress on many delightful trips in thevalley and up on the mesa in the shadow of the mountains. And now,thinking of this person, he somehow recognized this young man before himfully, and wondered why this had not come to him before. For this wasthe same young man--curiously pale, curiously drawn and haggard--but yetthe same man. Understanding, understanding everything, he nickeredsoftly and pressed close, mindful of yet another thing--something thathad helped to make his life on the little ranch so pleasant andunforgettable. What he was mindful of, and what he now sought, was sugarand quartered apples.
Bred of the Desert: A Horse and a Romance Page 20