CHAPTER XI
Within an Ace
Work about the ranch went steadily on, and there were few interruptionsto the daily course of events. But one day a small black cloud appearedon the western horizon, and grew larger with amazing rapidity. Soon ithad so increased in size that it obscured the sun, and a gloomy twilightsettled over the earth.
Bert and Dick and Tom were in the neighborhood of the branding pen,watching the men throw the cattle and brand them with Mr. Melton'smark. At first they did not notice the gathering storm, but as the sungrew dimmer and dimmer they looked up, as did many of the cowboys, andsaw the ominous-looking cloud. The cattlemen gave it but one glance, andthen quit their tasks and began to securely rope and tie the animalsinside the corral and make everything trim and shipshape.
The boys were somewhat surprised to see such precautions being takenagainst what they thought was merely going to be a thunder shower, butthey had gained experience enough to know that when anything was done onthe ranch there was generally some good reason back of it, and they hadalso learned not to ask direct questions.
They wished to know the cause of the evident anxiety on the part of theranchmen, however, so Bert set about getting the information in themanner they had learned by experience was best.
"Looks as though there were going to be something doing pretty soon,doesn't there?" he remarked to "Chip," one of the most experiencedmembers of the working force.
"Somethin' doin'?" exclaimed Chip. "Waal, I reckon they will be somethin'doin', and mighty soon, too. We're goin' to beat it for the bunkhousesome soon, and you'd better come along with us. Chances are you won'thave time to make the ranchhouse. When a norther once gets started,things happens pretty fast, so ef you don't want to get soaked an' run agood chance o' gettin' blown away you'd better come along with us, allthree o' you."
A "norther!" The boys had heard tales of the fury of these storms, andnow they would have an opportunity to judge for themselves the truth ofthese stories. They had always believed them exaggerated, but the hasteand anxiety of the ranchmen told them that something out of the ordinarywas expected.
The air was close and oppressive, and not a breath of wind rustled thedry prairie grass. The boys mopped their foreheads, and hurried alongwith the men. By this time the entire sky was overspread with a funeralpall, and it was so dark that they could hardly see. When they werewithin a few hundred yards of the bunkhouse they heard a weird whiningnoise far off over the prairie, and suddenly a little puff of cool airstruck against their heated faces.
At this moment Sandy, followed by several cowboys, dashed up, and theyall leaped from their horses. "We'll jest have time to make thebunkhouse," he said; "the wind will reach us in another minute. Lively'sthe word, boys."
He and the others with him who had horses dashed behind the bunkhouse,and tethered the frightened animals where they would be sheltered in somemeasure from the wind and rain. They dashed around the end of thebuilding and ran through the door, preceded by the party with which theboys had started from the corral. The door of the bunkhouse was slammedshut just in the nick of time.
With a shriek and a roar the norther was upon them. The wind blew withterrific violence, and rain dashed in great sheets against the windowsand drummed on the roof with a noise that made it difficult for the mento hear the sound of each other's voices. The building quivered andtrembled as the fierce gusts shook it in their grasp, and it seemed asthough it must be torn away from its foundations. But it had been stoutlybuilt with an eye to resisting just such storms, and held firm. The airwas filled with grass, bits of planking, and other wreckage that it hadpicked up in its furious course. The boys gazed out the windows,wondering mightily at the tremendous force of the gale, which closelyapproached that of a cyclone. They had been in storms at sea, and agale was no new thing to them, but this surpassed anything of the kindthey had ever seen.
"I'm mighty glad we weren't caught out in this," shouted Bert into theears of Tom and Dick. "I never thought it _could_ rain so."
And his astonishment was shared by his friends. "Rain" hardly seemed anadequate word to describe the torrents that poured down. The sky seemedfairly to open, and the rain descended in solid sheets. The ranchmen tookit all calmly, however, and loafed lazily in their bunks, smoking pipesand gazing contemplatively up at the roof. Weather conditions they hadlearned to take as a matter of course, as all men do who earn a living inthe open, and they accepted philosophically what Dame Nature meted out tothem.
The fury of the storm continued unabated for perhaps half an hour, andthen began to slacken perceptibly. The wind still tore at the rudebuilding and the rain continued to fall heavily, but with less of theirformer violence. The rattle of the rain on the roof grew less deafening,and it became possible to make one's self heard without being under thenecessity of shouting.
"I reckon the worst of it's over," remarked Sandy, after a time; "butthis here rain ain't goin' to stop fer an hour or more, and I vote thatto while away the ted-ium of this here interval some one o' youshorthorns tells us a yarn. You're all good liars, and yuh ought to beable to make somethin' up if yuh can't rec-lect nothin' thet reallyhappened."
"Ef it comes t' that," exclaimed Chip in a resentful tone, "what's thematter with you goin' ahead and turnin' the trick. There ain't nobodyhere that knows better'n you how to keep the recordin' angel workin'double shifts."
There was a laugh at this, but when it subsided Sandy had his answerready: "It ain't a question o' lyin' with me," he explained. "I've beenin so many scrapes that only a man of extraordinary intelligence andiron nerve like myself could 'a' pulled out of, that there ain't no callfor me to make up nothin'."
"That stuff sounds all right as long as you're sayin' it," said Chipskeptically; "but jest to prove it, supposin' you take the bit in yourteeth an' spiel off one o' these here adventures o' yourn."
"Well, mebbe I will," replied Sandy thoughtfully, "mebbe I will." Hepaused reflectively a few moments while he filled and lighted his pipe.The rain still beat steadily against the roof and windows of thebunkhouse, but the wind now came only in fitful gusts.
Everybody, with the exception of the three boys, was smoking, and a bluefog drifted and eddied through the atmosphere. At last Sandy appeared tohave collected his thoughts, and after a few vigorous puffs to get hispipe drawing well began his story.
"What I'm goin' to tell yuh about," he said, "happened before I became acattle puncher. Then I was workin' in the lumber business up in theMichigan woods fer Dodd & Robertson, one o' the biggest concerns in theline. We'd had a pretty successful winter, the boys were all in goodhumor, an' the daily cuts averaged pretty high. But the weather was cold,mighty cold, I can tell yuh. We'd swing an axe until we had to takeoff our coats, and we'd be wet with sweat, but if we stopped work fer asmuch as a minute we had to skip back into our coats again, or our clotheswould freeze on us as we stood there. Take it from me, boys, it was coldwith a capital C.
"But all this ain't gettin' me any further along with my yarn. As I say,the winter was a bitter one, and the wild things, panthers an' wolves an'sech, were pretty hard put to it to rastle enough grub to keep themalive. Natchally, this made 'em plumb ferocious, and they used to comeright into the clearin' around the camp, hopin', I suppose, to pick upsomethin'. The cook had to watch out to keep the supply house closed uptight, or there'd 'a' been a famine in camp, sure.
"Waal, one day the foreman sent me out to look over a section of timberland some distance from the camp, an' I set off right after breakfast.I took my axe along, o' course; no lumberman ever thinks o' goin'anywhere without his axe, any more than you boys figure on travelin'around without packin' a six-gun with yuh. I took enough grub with me tolast the day out, fer, as I said, it was a longish distance, an' I didn'treckon t' get back much before dark. It was the middle o' winter, an' thedays up there in the woods were mighty short.
"The snow was pretty deep, but I traveled on snowshoes, an' didn't havemuch trouble gettin' along. I made tol'able time, an'
made a rough surveyo' the timber before I unpacked my grub. After eatin' I started back tocamp, congratulatin' myself that I'd reach it with time an' to spare. Butas some poetry sharp I once heard of says, 'Man proposes, but theAlmighty disposes,' or words that mean the same thing. I'd gotten prettywell along on the return journey when suddenly I heard somethin' snap,and before I had time to even jump aside a big dead tree slams down,knockin' me over an' catchin' my left leg under it.
"Waal, I saw stars fer a few minutes, but as soon as my head cleared offa mite I tried to wriggle myself loose. But the tree couldn't seem to seeit that way. It had me good an' tight, and appar'ntly meant to enjoy mycompany fer a spell. At first, though, I couldn't seem to understand thatI was really caught hard an' fast, an' it took a little time fer the ideat' sink in. When it did filter through to me I pretty near went crazy, Iguess. I remember turnin' and twistin' until my leg felt like it wasgoin' to break clean off, an' I almost wished it would. But after a whileI pulled myself together a little, an' tried to think o' some way out. Assoon as I lay still even fer a minute the cold began to gnaw through me,and I knew I'd have t' do whatever I was goin' to do mighty quick, or I'dfreeze to death.
"An' that warn't the only danger, neither. It was beginnin' to get dark,and suddenly, 'way off to the north, I heard the yell of a painter (or apanther, as you lads might call it)," turning toward the three comrades,who were listening intently.
"Waal, when I heard that yell somethin' that seemed colder even than theicy air clutched at my heart. O' course, I didn't have any weapon withme, except as you might call my axe one. I looked around fer it, and sawthat it had fallen about three feet farther than I could stretch, and layhalf buried in the snow, only the haft stickin' out.
"I made up my mind that I'd have to have that axe, anyway, an' I set towork gettin' it. After thinkin' a few minutes I took off a long leatherbelt I was wearin' and made a loop by runnin' it through the buckle. Fromwhere I was layin' it was an almighty hard job to throw that loop aroundthe axe handle, an' I reckon I must 'a' tried twenty times before Ifinally made to throw it over. Then I started pullin' easy-like on thebelt to tighten the loop, so it would hold on the slippery handle. Thebelt was a leetle stiff, though, an' the loop wouldn't tighten veryclose. When I tried to pull in on it, the axe stuck in the crust thatcovered the softer snow underneath, an' the belt slipped off the handle.
"Waal, boys, I've had my share o' disappointments in this world, Ireckon, but I think that was the hardest o' them all to bear. Howsomever,I knew there was nothin' to do but to keep at it until I got that axe, soafter a lot o' false throws I got the loop over the handle agin. Thistime it held better, and at last the head o' the axe broke through thesnow crust an' then it was easy t' pull it up to me. When I felt the haftin my hand a little hope come back to me, an' I figgered there might be achance t' cut myself loose. But I was lyin' in sech a way that I couldn'trightly get at the tree noway, an' finally I had to give up tryin'.
"I've hearn more'n once of wild animals caught in traps gnawin' their ownfeet off fer the sake o' goin' free, an' the thought come to me of tryin'to chop myself loose in the same way. I think the only thing that kept mefrom doin' it was the thought that I'd rather be dead than be a cripple,anyway. An' o' course, I knew that arter a while, when I didn't show upat camp, the boys would suspicion thet somethin' was wrong an' make upa searchin' party to look for me. There's somethin'in all of us, Ireckon, that keeps right on hopin' up to the very minute that we cash inan' leaves this here vale o' tears.
"But the worst was yet to come, as the story-book fellers say. It hadbegun t' get real dark, when I thinks I hears a rustlin' sound in thedead underbrush. I grabbed my axe, an' made up my mind to die fightin',anyway. I knew sooner or later some hungry critter would come along an'find me laid out there nice an' invitin', without a chance o' protectin'myself, and I figgered that arter that the end wouldn't be a long waysoff.
"In a few minutes I heard the rustlin' sound again, only this timenearer. I twisted as far around as I could, and then I saw what wasmakin' the noise. Not thirty feet from me one o' the biggest painters Iever laid eyes on was creepin' stealthily along, sizin' me up with hisglistenin' green eyes as he went.
"When he saw thet I had spotted him he stopped, crouchin' down clost t'the ground, ready to fight or run, accordin' t' the way things lookedto him. Chances are he was half minded t' run, anyway, fer all the wildcritters is mighty shy of a man, an' as a rule will go the long wayaround to keep out o' his way. But this brute was hungry, as I could tellby his lean flanks, an' he didn't scare as easy as usual. I yelled athim, but he didn't move, jest sat there an' looked at me with themunwinkin' eyes, tryin' his best to figger out the way things stood. Everyonct in a while his eyes would leave mine, an' he'd glance casual-likearound him, but they always came back.
"I knew it wouldn't be long before he got next t' the fact that I wasdown an' out, an' I was right. I've hearn people say thet animals don'treason, but they're a long ways from hittin' the bull's-eye. It warn'tlong afore thet painter had everythin' settled in his own mind, an' haddecided thet I was helpless fer some reason an' would be easy pickin'sfer him. He got up on all fours, and began to growl a little an' switchhis tail. I knew then that it wouldn't be long before he came fer me, an'I took a fresh grip on the axe. I knew I didn't have a chance, but Ifiggered on puttin' my mark on the critter before he did fer me, anyway.
"He crept closer an' closer, growlin' and spittin' away fer all the worldlike a big tomcat gettin' ready t' fight. I makes a swing at him with theaxe, an' he jumps back a little, and fer a few seconds jest crouches an'glares at me, his eyes like two big, gleamin' emeralds. Then he gathershimself fer a spring, an' I gets ready fer what I knows is comin'.
"Suddenly he shot through the air, an' as he comes down I slams out athim with the axe. The critter dodges even while he's in the air, but hecouldn't squirm aside altogether, an' the sharp axe caught him a gashthat laid his shoulder open. He gives a great yell, and then all I canremember is his landin' on me like a cyclone, fetchin' me a blow on theside of the head with his paw that it's a wonder didn't do fer me thenan' there. After that everythin' went dark, an' the next I knew I waslyin' in my bunk at camp, with my leg done up in splints, my left arm,that had been chawed by the painter, done up in bandages, an' my head sobound up that there wasn't much left out but my nose.
"The boys told me that when I didn't show up at supper-time they began toget anxious, and when I hadn't showed up an hour later they got up asearchin' party and set out to look fer me in the direction they knew I'dbe comin' from. They'd gone quite a ways when they heard the yell thepainter gave when I slashed him with the axe, and rushed over in thedirection o' the sound. They got there jest in the nick o' time, too, Ireckon. Two minutes more an' I'd 'a' been done fer, sure."
Sandy ceased speaking, and everybody drew a long breath. "Did they killthe panther?" inquired Bert.
"No, worse luck," replied Sandy; "it was dark, and when they got closethe critter made off before they had a chance at a shot. But, say!" heexclaimed, "the storm's over an' the sun is out, an' here we are loafin'in here yet. Vamoose, boys! scatter!" and they all piled out into a freshand made-over world. Everything was washed clean by the torrentialrainfall, and, strange to say, comparatively little damage had been doneby the terrific wind. The ranchmen set about repairing whatever had beendestroyed, and the three comrades walked toward the ranchhouse,discussing Sandy's tale as they went.
Bert Wilson in the Rockies Page 11