by Max Brand
CHAPTER 15
When Bull left the dining room that night after supper, Mrs. Bridewelllooked across the table at her husband with horror in her eyes.
"Did you see?" she gasped. "He ate the _whole_ pot of beans!"
"Sure I seen him," and he grinned.
"But--he'll eat us out of house and home! Why, he's like a wolf!"
Bridewell chuckled with superior knowledge. "He's ate enough forthree," he admitted, "but he's worked enough for six--besides, most ofhis wages come in food. But work? I never seen anything like it! Hehandled more timbers than a dozen. When it come to spiking them inplace he seen me swinging that twelve-pound sledge and near breakingmy back. 'I think it's easier this way,' he says. 'Besides you can hita lot faster if you use just one hand.' And he takes the hammer, andsends that big spike in all the way to the head with one lick. And hewondered why I didn't work the same way! Ain't got any idea howstrong he is."
Mrs. Bridewell listened with wide eyes. "The idea," she murmured. "Theidea! Where's he now?"
Her husband went to the back door. "He's sitting over by the pumptalking to Tod. Sitting talking like they was one age. I reckon he'ssort of half-witted."
"How come?" sharply asked Mrs. Bridewell. "Ain't Tod got more brainsthan most growed-up men?"
"I reckon he has," admitted the proud father.
And if they had put the same question to Bull Hunter, the giant wouldhave agreed with them emphatically. He approached the child tamer ofDiablo with a diffidence that was almost reverence. The freckle-facedboy looked up from his whittling when the shadow of Bull fell athwarthim, with an equal admiration; also with suspicion, for thecowpunchers, on the whole, were apt to make game of the youngster andhis grave, grown-up ways. He was, therefore, shrewdly suspicious ofjests at his expense.
Furthermore, he had seen the big stranger heaving the great timbersabout and whirling the sledge with one hand; he half suspected thatthe jokes might be pointed with the weight of that heavy hand. Hisamazement was accordingly great when he found the big man actuallysitting down beside him, cross-legged, and he was absolutely stupefiedwhen Bull Hunter said, "I've been aiming at this chance to talk toyou, Tod, all day."
"H'm," grunted Tod noncommittally, and examined the other with acautious side glance.
But the face of Bull Hunter was unutterably free from guile. Todinstantly began to adjust himself. The men he most worshiped were thelean, swift, profanely formidable cowpunchers. But there was somethingin him that responded with a thrill to this accepted equality withsuch a man as Bull Hunter. Even his father he had seen stricken to anawed silence at the sight of Bull's prowess.
"You see," explained Bull frankly, "I been wondering how you managedto handle Diablo the way you do."
Tod chuckled. "It's just a trick. You watch me a while with him,you'll soon catch on."
But Bull shook his head as he answered, "Maybe a mighty bright manmight figure it out, but I'm not good at figuring things out, Tod."
The boy blinked. He was accustomed to the studied understatement ofthe cowpunchers and he was accustomed, also, to their real vanitywhich underlay the surface shyness. But it was patent that BullHunter, in spite of his size, was truly humble. This conception wasnew to Tod and slowly grew in his brain. His active eyes ran over thebulk beside him; he almost pitied the giant.
"Besides," pondered Bull heavily, "I guess there's a whole lot ofbright men that have seen you handle Diablo, but they couldn't makeout what you did. They tried to ride Diablo and got their necks nearlybroken. They were good riders, but I'm not. You see, Diablo's thefirst horse I've ever seen that could really carry me." He addedapologetically, "I'm so heavy."
No vanity, certainly. He gestured toward himself as though he wereashamed of his brawn, and the heart of Tod warmed and expanded. Hehimself would never be large, and his heart had ached because of hissmallness many a time.
"Yep," he said judiciously, "you're pretty heavy. About the heaviest Iever seen, I guess. Maybe Hal Dunbar is as big, but I never seen Hal."
"I've heard a good deal about Hal, but--"
He stopped short and stiffened. Tod saw that the eyes of the big manhad fixed on the corral in which stood Diablo. A puff of wind hadcome, and the great black had thrown up his head into it, an imposingpicture with mane and tail blown sidewise. Not until the stallionturned away from the unseen thing which he had scented in the wind,did Bull turn to his small companion with a sigh.
Tod nodded, his eyes glinting. "I know," he said. "I used to feel thatway--before I learned how to handle Diablo." He interpreted, "You feellike it'd be pretty fine to get onto Diablo's back and have him gallopunder you."
"About the finest thing in the world," sighed Bull Hunter. He cast outhis great hands before him as he tried to explain the mysteriousemotions which the horse had excited in him. "You see, Tod, I'm prettybig and I'm pretty slow. Most folks have horses, and they get aboutpretty lively on 'em, but I've always had to walk."
The enormity of this lack made Tod stare, for travel and horses wereinseparably connected in his mind. He shuddered a little at thethought of the big man stalking across the burning and interminablesands of the desert or toiling through the mountains. It seemed to himthat he could see the signs of that pain stamped in the face of BullHunter, and his heart leaped again in sympathy.
"So when I saw Diablo--" Bull paused. But Tod had understood. Suddenlythe boy became excited.
"Suppose you was to learn to ride Diablo before Hal Dunbar come to tryhim out? Suppose that?"
"Could you teach me?" the giant asked in an almost awed whisper.
The child looked over his companion with a vague wonder. It would be atremendous responsibility, this teaching of the giant, but what couldbe more spectacular than to have such a man as his pupil? But to sharehis unique empire over Diablo--that would be a great price to pay!
"No," he decided, "it wouldn't do. Besides, suppose even I _could_teach you how to ride Diablo--with a saddle, which I don't think Icould--what would happen when Hal Dunbar come up to these parts andfound that the hoss he wanted was somebody else's? He'd make an awfulfuss--and he's a fighting man, Bull."
He said this impressively, leaning a little toward the giant, and hewas rewarded infinitely by seeing the right hand of the giant stir alittle toward the holster at his thigh.
"I guess I'd have to take my chance with him," was all Bull answeredin his mildest tone.
Tod was beginning to guess that there was a certain amount of mentalstrength under this quiet exterior. He had often noted that hisfather, who made by far the most noise, was more easily placated thanhis mother, in spite of her gentle silences. The strength of BullHunter had a strain of the same thing about it.
"You'd take a chance with Hal Dunbar?" he repeated wonderingly. Hetrembled a little, with a sort of nervous ecstasy at the thought ofthat coming encounter. "That's more'n anybody else in these partswould do. Why, everybody's heard about Hal Dunbar. Everybody's scaredof him. He can ride anything that's big enough to carry him; he canfight like a wildcat with his hands; and he can shoot like"--his eyewandered toward a superlative--"like Pete Reeve, almost," he concludedwith a tone of awe.
A spark of tenderness shone in the eye of Bull. "D'you know PeteReeve?"
"No, and I don't want to. Ma had a brother once, and he met up withPete Reeve."
A tragedy was inferred in that oblique reference. Bull decided thatthis was a conversational topic on which he must remain silent, andyet he yearned to speak of the little withered catlike fellow with thewise brain who had done so much for him.
"When I'm big enough," mused the boy with a quiet savagery, "maybeI'll meet up with Pete Reeve."
Bull switched the talk to a more comfortable topic. "But how'd youmake a start with that man-eating Diablo?"
Tod studied, the question. "I got a way with hosses, you see," hebegan modestly.
He played two brown fingers in his mouth and sent out a shrillingwhistle that was answered immediately by a whinny, and a littleches
tnut gelding, sun-faded to a sand color nearly, cantered into viewaround the corner of a shed and approached them. He came to a pausenearby, and having studied Bull Hunter with large, unafraid, curiouseyes for a moment, began to nibble impertinently at the ragged hatbrim of the child.
"Git away!" exclaimed Tod, and when the chestnut made no move to go,the brown fist flashed up at the reaching head. But the head wasjerked away with a motion of catlike deftness.
"He's a terrible bother, Crackajack is," said the boy angrily, andfrom the corner of his eye he stole a glance of unspeakable pride atthe big man.
"He's a beauty," exclaimed Bull Hunter. "A regular beauty!"
For Crackajack combined the toughness of a mustang and the lean,strong running lines of a thoroughbred in miniature. His legs were asdelicately made as the legs of a deer; his head was a little model ofimpish intelligence and beauty.
"You and Crackajack are pals," said Bull. "I guess that's what youare!"
"We get on tolerable well," admitted the boy, whose heart was fullwith this praise of his pet.
Bull continued on the agreeable topic. "And I'll bet he's fast, too.He looks like speed to me!"
"Maybe you don't know hosses, but you sure got hoss sense." Todchuckled. "Most folks take Crackajack for a toy pony. He ain't. I'veseen him carry a full-grown man all day and keep up with the best of'em. He don't mind the weight of me no more'n if I was a feather. He'sfast, he's tough, and he knows more'n a hoss should know, youmight say!"
He changed his voice, and a brief command made Crackajack give up histeasing and retreat. Bull watched the exquisite little creature go,with a smile of pleasure. He did not know it, but that smile unlockedthe last door to Tod's heart.
"He was pretty near as wild as Diablo when I first got him," said theboy. "And mean--say, he'd been kicked around all his life. But Ifatted him up in the barn, and he got so's he'd follow me around. Andnow he runs loose like a dog and comes when I whistle. He knows morethings than you could shake a stick at, Crackajack does." "I'll bet hedoes," said Bull with shining eyes.
"Say," said the boy suddenly, "I'm going to tell you about the way Iworked with Diablo."
"I'll take that mighty kind," said Bull gratefully. "D'you think I'dhave a chance with him even if you showed me how?"
"You got to have a way with hosses," admitted the boy, and he examinedBull again. "But I think you'll get on with hossflesh pretty well.When Diablo first come, he used to go plumb crazy when anybody comenear his corral. He still does if a growed man comes there. Well, theyused to go out and stand and watch him and laugh at him prancingaround and kicking up a fuss at the sight of 'em.
"And it made me mad. Made me plumb mad to see them bother Diablo whenhe wasn't doing no harm, when they wasn't gaining anything byit, either."
"I used to go out when nobody was around and stand by the bars with abit of hay and grain heads in my hand. First off he'd prance aroundeven at me, but pretty soon he seen that I wasn't big enough to do himno harm, and then he'd just stand still and snort and look at me.Along about the third time he took notice of the grain heads and comeand smelled them, and the next day he ate 'em.
"Well, I kept at it that way. Pretty soon I went inside the corral.Diablo just come up sort of excited and trembling and didn't knowwhether to bash my head in with his forehoofs or let me go. Then heseen the grain heads and ate them while he was making up his mind whatto do about me. And he winded up by just having a little talk with me.He was terribly dirty and dusty, and he was shedding. Nobody dared tobrush him, and so I took a soft-haired brush and started to work onhis neck. He liked it, and so I dressed him down and left him prettynear shining. And every day after that I went and had a talk with himand brushed him. Then I rode Crackajack up to the bars and let Diablosee me on him, with no bridle or saddle. Pretty soon I found out thatit was the saddle and the bridle and the spurs that scared Diablo todeath. He didn't mind anything else so very much. So one day I climbedup the fence and slid onto Diablo's back, and he just turned his headand snorted at me. Just then Pa seen me and let out a terrible yell,and Diablo pitched me right off over his head and over the fence. ButI got right up and came back to him. He seen that he could get me offwhenever he wanted to and he seen that I didn't do him no harm whenI got on.
"After that everything was easy. I never bothered him none with asaddle or a bridle. And there you are. D'you think you can dothe same?"
"But the saddle and the bridle?" said Bull. "What about them?"
"That's up to you to figure out a way of getting him used to 'em. I'llgo introduce you now, if I can."
Bull rose, and the boy led the way.
"If he takes to you pretty kind," said the boy, "you may have achance. But if he begins acting up, it won't be no use."