by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XXI
FIESTA DAY
Dade, rolling over in bed and at the same moment opening his eyesreluctantly upon the new day, that he hated, beheld Jack half-dressedand shaving his left jaw, and looking as if he were committing murderupon an enemy. Dade watched him idly; he could afford the luxury ofidleness that morning; for rodeo was over, and he was lying betweenlinen sheets on a real bed, under a roof other than the branches of atree; and if his mind had rested as easily as his body, he would havebeen almost happy.
But this was the day of the fiesta; and with the remembrance of thatvital fact came a realization that on this day the Picardo ranch wouldbe the Mecca toward which all California was making pilgrimage; and, hefeared, the battle-ground of the warring interests and prejudices of thepilgrims themselves.
Dade listened to the voices shouting orders and greetings without as thevaqueros hurried here and there in excited preparations for the event.He judged that not another man in the valley was in bed at that moment,unless sickness held him there; and for that very reason he pulled ablanket snugger about his ears and tried to make himself believe that hewas enjoying to the full his laziness. He had earned it; and last nighthad been the first one of deep, unbroken sleep that he had had sincethat moonlit night when Manuel and Valencia rode in haste to meet thissurly-browed fellow before him.
Jack did not wipe off the scowl with the lather, and Dade began toobserve him more critically; which he had not before had an opportunityto do, for the reason that Jack had not returned to the ranch the nightbefore until Dade was in bed and asleep.
"Say, you don't want to let the fellows outside see you looking likethat," he remarked, when Jack had yanked a horn comb through hisred-brown mop of hair as if he were hoeing corn.
"Why?" Jack turned on him truculently.
"Well, you look a whole lot like a man that expects a licking. And Idon't see any excuse for that; you're sure to win, old man. I'd bet mylast shirt on that." Which was Dade's method of wiping off the scowl.
"Say, Dade," Jack began irrelevantly, "I'm going to use Surry. You don'tmind, do you? He's the best horse I ever threw a rope off from, withoutany exceptions. I've been training him up a little, and I tell youwhat, Surry's going to have a lot to do with that duel."
Dade sat up in bed as if he had been pulled up. "Jack, are you going tomake it a sure-enough duel?" he asked anxiously.
"Why?" Jack's eyes hardened perceptibly. "That's what Jose wants."
"Do you want it?" Dade scowled absent-mindedly at the wall, felt theprick of an unpleasant thought, and glanced sharply at Jack.
"Say, I feel sorry for Jose," he began straightforwardly. "As a man, I'dlike him fine, if he'd let me. And, Jack, you've got everything comingyour way, and--well, seems like you might go easy on this fight, nomatter what Jose wants. He's crazy jealous, of course--but you want torecollect that he has plenty of cause. You've stepped in between him anda girl he's known all his life. They were practically engaged, before--"
"I don't know as Jose's love affairs interest me," put in Jack harshly."Do you care if I use Surry? I kinda took it for granted it would be allright, so I went ahead and trained him so I can bank on him in a pinch."
"Of course you can use him." That Dade's hesitation did not cover morethan a few seconds was proof of his absolute loyalty to Jack. Notanother man living could have used Surry in a struggle such as thatwould be; a struggle where the danger was not all for the rider, butmust be shared equally by the horse. Indeed, Dade himself would not haveridden him in such a contest, because his anxiety lest Surry should behurt would have crippled his own dexterity. But Jack wanted to rideSurry, and Dade's lips smiled consent to the sacrifice.
"All right, then. That horse is sure a wonder, Dade. Sensible? You neversaw anything like it! I never saw a horse so sensitive to--well, Isuppose it's muscular reactions that I'm unconscious of. I've tried himout without a bridle on him; and, Dade, I can sit perfectly still in thesaddle, and he'll turn wherever I make up my mind to go! Fact. You tryit yourself, next time you ride him. So I've cultivated that faculty ofhis, this last month.
"And besides, I've got him trained to dodge a rope every time. Had Diegogo out with me and try to lasso me, you know. I had one devil of a timewith the Injun, too, to make him disrespectful enough to throw a rope atme. But Surry took to it like a she-bear to honey, and he's got so hecan gauge distances to a hair, now, and dodge it every pass. I'm goingto ride him to-day with a hackamore; and you watch him perform, oldman! I can turn him on a tin plate, just with pressing my knees. Thathorse will--"
"Say, you're stealing my thunder," drawled Dade, grinning. "That's myprivilege, to sing Surry's praises. Haven't I told you, right along,that he's a wonder?"
"Well, you told the truth for once in your life, anyway. Get up, youlazy devil, and come out and take a look at him. I'm going to have Diegogive him a bath, soon as the sun gets hot enough. I've got a colorscheme that will make these natives bug their eyes out! And Surry's gotto be considerably whiter than snow--"
"Huh!" Dade was watching him closely while he listened. For all Jack'sexuberance of speech, there was the hard look in his eyes still; andthere was a line between his eyebrows which Dade had never noticed therebefore, except as a temporary symptom of anger. He had, Dade remembered,failed to make any statement of his intentions toward Jose; which wasnot like Jack, who was prone to speak impulsively and bluntly his mind.Also, it occurred to Dade that he had not once mentioned Teresita,although, before the rodeo his talk had been colored with references tothe girl.
"Oh, how's the senorita, by the way?" Dade asked deliberately.
"All right," returned Jack promptly, with a rising inflection, "Are yougoing to get up, or shall I haul you out by the heels?"
Dade, observing an evasion of that subject also, did some hard thinkingwhile he obediently pulled on his clothes. But he said not a word moreabout the duel, or Jose's love-tragedy, or Teresita.
Since the first flush of dawn the dismal squeal of wooden-wheeledox-carts had hushed the bird songs all up and down El Camino Real, andthe popping of the drivers' lashes, which punctuated their objurgationsto the shambling oxen, told eloquently of haste. Within canopies formedof gay, patchwork quilts and gayer serapes, heavy-jowled, swarthysenoras lurched resignedly with the jolting of the carts, and betweenwhiles counseled restive senoritas upon the subject of deportment orgossiped idly of those whom they expected to meet at the fiesta.
The Picardo hacienda was fairly wiped clean of its, comfortablehome-atmosphere, so immaculate was it and so plainly held ready forceremonious festivities. The senora herself went about with a linendust-cloth in her hand, and scolded because the smoke from the fireswhich the peons had tended all night in the barbecue pits was bornestraight toward the house by the tricksy west wind, and left cinders andgrime upon windows closed against it. The patio was swept clean of dustand footprints, and the peons scarce dared to cross it in theirscurrying errands hither and thither.
In the orchard many caballeros fresh from the rodeo were camped, theirwaiting-time spent chiefly in talking of the thing they meant to do orhoped to see, while they polished spur-shanks and bridle trimmings.
Horses were being groomed painstakingly at the corrals, and there wasalways a group around the bear-pen where the two cubs whimpered, and thegaunt mother rolled wicked, little, bloodshot eyes at those who watchedand dropped pebbles upon her outraged nose and like cowards remainedalways beyond her reach.
In the small corral near by, the bulls bellowed hoarsely at the scent oftheir grizzly neighbor and tossed dirt menacingly over their backs;while above them the rude tiers of seats waited emptily for the yellinghumans who would crowd them later. Beyond, under a great, wide-spreadinglive oak near the roasting pits, three fat young steers swung by theirheels from a horizontal limb, ready for the huge gridirons that stoodleaning against the trunk behind them. Indeed, the heads of those samesteers were even then roasting in their hide in the smaller pit of theirown, where the ashes were stil
l warm, though the fire had been drawnover-night.
The sun was not more than two hours high when Don Andres himselfappeared in his gala dress upon the veranda, to greet in flowery Spanishthe first arrivals among his guests. The senora, he explainedcourteously, was still occupied, and the senorita, he averred fondly,was sleeping still, because there would be no further opportunity tosleep for many hours; but his house and all that he had was half theirs,and they would honor him most by entering into their possessions.
Whereupon the senoras and the senoritas settled themselves incomfortable chairs and waited, and inspected the house of this lord ofthe valley, whose luxury was something to envy. Some of those senoraswalked upon bare, earthen floors when they were at home, and their blackeyes rested hungrily upon the polished, dark wood beneath their feet,and upon the rugs that had come from Spain along with the paintings uponthe walls. They looked, and craned, and murmured comments until thesenora appeared, a little breathless and warm from her last conferencewith Margarita in the kitchen, and turned their tongues upon thefestival.
Dade was just finishing the rite of shaving, and thinking the while thathe would give all that he possessed, including Surry, if he could whiskJack and himself to the cool, pine slope in the Sierras where was theirmine. Every day of waiting and gossiping over the duel had but fosteredthe feeling of antagonism among the men of the valley, and whatevermight be the outcome of that encounter, Dade could see no hope ofavoiding an open clash between the partisans of the two combatants.Valencia and Pancho and two or three others of the Picardo vaqueros, whohated Manuel--and therefore had no love for Jose--would be more thanlikely to side with him and Jack, though he honestly wished that theywould not; for the more friends they had when the test was made, thegreater would be the disturbance, especially since there would be winefor all; and wine never yet served to cool a temper or lull excitement.
Without in the least realizing it, Dade's face while he shaved wore ascowl quite as pronounced as the one that had called his attention toJack's mood. And, more significant, he had no sooner finished than helooked into his little box of pistol caps to see how many he had left,and inspected the pistol as well; for the law of self-preservationstrikes deeper than most emotions, and his life had mostly been livedwhere men must frequently fight for the right to live; and in suchsurroundings the fighting instinct wakes at the first hint ofantagonism.
"My riata's gone!" announced Jack breathlessly, bursting into the roomat that moment as if he expected to find the thief there. "I left it onmy saddle last night, and now--"
"And that was a fool thing to do, I must say!" commented Dade, startledinto harshness. He slid the pistol into its holster and buckled the beltaround his muscular body with fingers that moved briskly. "Well, myriata's no slouch--you can use it. You've used it before."
"I don't want yours. I've got used to my own. I know to an inch justwhere it will land--oh, damn the luck--It was some of those fellowscamped by the orchard, and when I find out which--"
"Keep your head on, anyway," advised Dade more equably. "Your nervesmust be pretty well frazzled. If you let a little thing like this upsetyou, how do you expect--"
"It ain't a little thing!" gritted Jack, loading his pistols hurriedly."That six-strand riata has got a different feel, a different weight--oh,you know it's going to make all the difference in the world when I getout there with Jose. Whoever took it knew what it meant, all right! Someone--"
"Where's Surry?" A sudden fear sent Dade hurrying to the door. "By theLord Harry, if they've hurt Surry--" He jerked the door open and wentout, Jack hard upon his heels.
"I didn't think of that," Jack confessed on the way to the stable, andgot a look of intense disgust from Dade, which he mitigated somewhat byhis next remark. "Diego was to sleep in the stall last night."
"Oh." Dade slackened his pace a bit. "Why didn't you say so?"
"I think," retorted Jack, grinning a little, "somebody else's nerves arekinda frazzled, too. I don't want you to begin worrying over my affairs,Dade. I'm not," he asserted with unconvincing emphasis. "But all thesame, I'd like to get my fingers on the fellow that took my riata!"
Since he formulated that wish after he reached the doorway of the roomybox-stall where Surry was housed, he faced a badly scared peon as thedoor swung open.
"Senor--I--pardon, Senor! But I feared that harm might come to the riatain the night. There are many guests, Senor, who speak ill of gringos,and I heard a whisper--"
Jack, gripping Diego by the shoulders, halted his nervous explanations."What about the riata?" he cried. "Do you know where it is?"
"Si, Senor. Me, I took it from the senor's saddle, for I feared harmwould be done if it were left there to tempt those who would laugh tosee the senor dragged to the death to-day. Senor, that is Jose'spurpose; from a San Vincente vaquero I heard--and he had it from thelips of Manuel. Jose will lasso the senor, and the horse will run awaywith Jose, and the senor will be killed. Ah, Senor!--Jose's skill isgreat; and Manuel swears that now he will truly fight like a demon,because the prayers of the senorita go with Jose. Her glove she sent himfor a token--Manuel swears that it is so, and a message that he is tokill thee, Senor!"
"But my riata?" To Diego's amazement, his blue-eyed god seemed not inthe least disturbed, either by plot or gossip.
"Ah, the riata! Last night I greased it well, Senor, so that to-day itwould be soft. And this morning at daybreak I stretched it here in thestall and rubbed it until it shone. Now it is here, Senor, where noknife-point can steal into it and cunningly cut the strands that arehidden, so that the senor would not observe and would place faith uponit and be betrayed." Diego lifted his loose, linen shirt and disclosedthe riata coiled about his middle.
The eyes of his god, when they rested upon the brown body wrapped roundand round with the rawhide on which his life would later hang, weresofter than they had been since he had craved the kiss that had beendenied him, many hours before. It was only the blind worship and theloyalty of a peon whose feet were bare, whose hands were calloused withlabor, whose face was seamed with the harshness of his serfdom. Only apeon's loyalty; but something hard and bitter and reckless, somethingthat might have proved a more serious handicap than a strange riata,dropped away from Jack's mood and left him very nearly his normal self.It was as if the warmth of the rawhide struck through the chill whichTeresita's unreasoning spite had brought to the heart of him, and leftthere a little glow.
"Gracias, Diego," he said, and smiled in the way that made one love him."Let it stay until I have need of it. It will surely fly true, to-day,since it has been warmed thus by thy friendship."
From an impulse of careless kindness he said it, even though he had beentouched by the peon's anxiety for his welfare. But Diego's heart wasnear to bursting with gratitude and pride; those last two words--hewould not have exchanged the memory of them for the gold medal itself.That his blue-eyed god should address him, a mere peon, as "thy," theendearing, intimate pronoun kept for one's friends! The tears stood inDiego's black eyes when he heard; and Diego was no weakling, but astraight-backed stoic of an Indian, who stood almost as tall as theSenor Jack himself and who could throw a full-grown steer to the groundby twisting its head. He bowed low and turned to fumble the sweet, driedgrasses in Surry's manger; and beneath his coarse shirt the feel of therawhide was sweeter than the embrace of a loved woman.
"You want to take mighty good care of this little nag of mine," Dadeobserved irrelevantly, his fingers combing wistfully the crinkly mane."There'll never be another like him in this world. And if there was, itwouldn't be him."
"I reckon it's asking a good deal of you, to think of using him at all."For the first time Jack became conscious of his selfishness. "I won't,Dade, if you'd rather I didn't."
"Don't be a blamed idiot. You know I want you to go ahead and use him;only--I'd hate to see him hurt."
To Dade the words seemed to be wrenched from the very fibers of hisfriendship. He loved that horse more than he had ever believed he couldlove an anim
al; and he was mentally sacrificing him to Jack's need.
Jack went up and rubbed Surry's nose playfully; and it cost Dade ajealous twinge to see how the horse responded to the touch.
"He won't get hurt. I've taught him how to take care of himself; haven'tI, Diego?" And he put the statement into Spanish, so that the peoncould understand.
"Si, he will never let the riata touch him, Senor. Truly, it is wellthat he will come at the call, for otherwise he would never again hecaught!" Diego grinned, checked himself on the verge of venturinganother comment, and tilted his head sidewise instead, his ears perkedtoward the medley of fiesta sounds outside.
"Listen, Senors! That is not the squeal of carts alone, which I hear. Itis the carriage that has wheels made of little sticks, that chattersmuch when it moves. Americanos are coming, Senors."
"Americanos!" Dade glanced quickly at Jack, mutely questioning. "Iwonder if--" He gave Surry a hasty, farewell slap on the shoulder andwent out into the sunshine and the clamor of voices and laughter, withthe creaking of carts threaded through it all. The faint, unmistakablerattle of a wagon driven rapidly, came towards them. While they stoodlistening, came also a confused jumble of voices emitting sounds whichthe two guessed were intended for a song. A little later, above thehigh-pitched rattle of the wagon wheels, they heard the raucous,long-drawn "Yank-ee doo-oo-dle da-a-andy!" which confirmed theirsuspicions and identified the comers as gringos beyond a doubt.
"Must be a crowd from San Francisco," said Jack needlessly. "I wroteand told Bill about the fiesta, when I sent up after some clothes. Itold him to come down and take it in--and I guess he's coming."
Bill was; and he was coming largely, emphatically, and vaingloriously.He had a wagon well loaded with his more intimate friends, includingJim. He had a following of half his Committee of Vigilance and all themen of like caliber who could find a horse or a mule to straddle. Eventhe Roman-nosed buckskin of sinister history was in the van of theprocession that came charging up the slope with all the speed it couldmuster after the journey from the town on the tip of the peninsula.
In the wagon were a drum, two fifes, a cornet, and much confusion ofvoices. Bill, enthroned upon the front seat beside the driver of thefour-horse team, waved both arms exuberantly and started the song allover again, so that they had to sing very fast indeed in order to finishby the time they swung up to the patio and stopped.
Bill scrambled awkwardly down over the wheel and gripped the hands ofthose two whose faces welcomed him without words. "Well, we got here,"he announced, including the whole cavalcade with one sweeping gesture."Started before daylight, too, so we wouldn't miss none of thedoings." He tilted his head toward Dade's ear and jerked his thumbtowards the wagon. "Say! I brought the boys along, in case--" His lefteyelid lowered lazily and flew up again into its normal position as DonAndres, his sombrero in his hand, came towards them across the patio,smiling a dignified welcome.
Dade spoke not a word in reply, but his eyes brightened wonderfully.There was still the element of danger, and on a larger scale than ever.But it was heartening to have Bill Wilson's capable self to stand besidehim. Bill could handle turbulent crowds better than any man Dade hadever seen.
They lingered, greeting acquaintances here and there among the arrivals,until Bill was at liberty again.
"Got any greaser here that can talk white man's talk, and you cantrust?" was Bill's mild way of indicating his need of an interpreter,when the fiesta crowd had grown to the proportions of a multitude thatbuzzed like giant bees in a tree of ripe figs.
"Why? What do you want of one? Valencia will help you out, I guess."Dade's hesitation was born of inattention rather than reluctance. He waswatching the gesticulating groups of Californians as a gambler watchesthe faces of his opponents, and the little weather-signs did notreassure him.
"Well, there's good money to be picked out of this crowd," said Bill,pushing his hands deep into his pockets. "I can't understand theirlingo, but faces talk one language; and I don't care what's the color ofthe skin. I've been reading what's wrote in their eyes and around theirmouths. I can get big odds on Jack, here, if I can find somebody to talkfor me. How about it, Jack? I've heard some say there's more than thegold medal and a horse up on this lariat game. I've heard some say youtwo have put your necks in the jack-pot. On the quiet, what do youreckon you're going to do to the greaser?"
Jack shifted his glance to Dade's face, tense with anxiety while hewaited. He looked out over the slope dotted thickly with people, laughedbriefly and mirthlessly, and then looked full at Bill.
"I reckon I'm going to kill him," he said very quietly.
Big Bill stared. "Say! I'm glad I ain't the greaser," he said dryly,answering a certain something in Jack's eyes and around his lips. Billhad heard men threaten death, before now; but he did not think of thisas a threat. To him it seemed a sentence of death.
"Jack, you'll be sorry for it," warned Dade under his breath. "Don't goand--"
"I don't want to hear any remarks on the subject." Never in all theyears of their friendship had Jack spoken to him in so harsh a tone."God Almighty couldn't talk me out of it. I'm going to kill him. Let itgo at that." He turned abruptly and walked away to the stable, and thetwo stood perfectly still and watched him out of sight.
"He'll do it, too," said Dade distressfully. "There's something in thisI don't understand--but he'll do it."