The Untamed

by Max Brand

  CHAPTER XII

  PARTNERS

  Dust powdered his hat and clothes as Tex Calder trotted his horsenorth across the hills. His face was a sickly grey, and his blackhair might have been an eighteenth century wig, so thoroughly was itdisguised. It had been a long ride. Many a long mile wound back behindhim, and still the cattle pony, with hanging head, stuck to its task.Now he was drawing out on a highland, and below him stretched thelight yellow-green of the willows of the bottom land. He halted hispony and swung a leg over the horn of his saddle. Then he rolled acigarette, and while he inhaled it in long puffs he scanned the treesnarrowly. Miles across, and stretching east and west farther than hiseye could reach, extended the willows. Somewhere in that wildernesswas the gang of Jim Silent. An army corps might have been easilyconcealed there.

  If he was not utterly discouraged in the beginning of his search, itwas merely because the rangers of the hills and plains are taughtpatience almost as soon as they learn to ride a horse. He surveyed theyellow-green forest calmly. In the west the low hanging sun turnedcrimson and bulged at the sides into a clumsy elipse. He started downthe slope at the same dog-trot which the pony had kept up all day.Just before he reached the skirts of the trees he brought his horse toa sudden halt and threw back his head. It seemed to him that he hearda faint whistling.

  He could not be sure. It was so far off and unlike any whistling hehad ever heard before, that he half guessed it to be the movement of abreeze through the willows, but the wind was hardly strong enough tomake this sound. For a full five minutes he listened without movinghis horse. Then came the thing for which he waited, a phrase of melodyundoubtedly from human lips.

  What puzzled him most was the nature of the music. As he rode closerto the trees it grew clearer. It was unlike any song he had everheard. It was a strange improvisation with a touch of both melancholyand savage exultation running through it. Calder found himself noddingin sympathy with the irregular rhythm.

  It grew so clear at last that he marked with some accuracy thedirection from which it came. If this was Silent's camp, it must bestrongly guarded, and he should approach the place more cautiouslythan he could possibly do on a horse. Accordingly he dismounted, threwthe reins over the pony's head, and started on through the willows.The whistling became louder and louder. He moved stealthily from treeto tree, for he had not the least idea when he would run across aguard. The whistling ceased, but the marshal was now so near that hecould follow the original direction without much trouble. In a fewmoments he might distinguish the sound of voices. If there were two orthree men in the camp he might be able to surprise them and make hisarrest. If the outlaws were many, at least he could lie low nearthe camp and perhaps learn the plans of the gang. He worked his wayforward more and more carefully. At one place he thought a shadowyfigure slipped through the brush a short distance away. He poised hisgun, but lowered it again after a moment's thought. It must havebeen a stir of shadows. No human being could move so swiftly or sonoiselessly.

  Nevertheless the sight gave him such a start that he proceeded witheven greater caution. He was crouched close to the ground. Every inchof it he scanned carefully before he set down a foot, fearful of thecracking of a fallen twig. Like most men when they hunt, he began tofeel that something followed him. He tried to argue the thought out ofhis brain, but it persisted, and grew stronger. Half a dozen times hewhirled suddenly with his revolver poised. At last he heard a stampwhich could come from nothing but the hoof of a horse. The sounddispelled his fears. In another moment he would be in sight of thecamp.

  "Do you figger you'll find it?" asked a quiet voice behind him.

  He turned and looked into the steady muzzle of a Colt. Behind thatrevolver was a thin, handsome face with a lock of jet black hairfalling over the forehead. Calder knew men, and now he felt a strangeabsence of any desire to attempt a gun-play.

  "I was just taking a stroll through the willows," he said, with amighty attempt at carelessness.

  "Oh," said the other. "It appeared to me you was sort of huntin' forsomething. You was headed straight for my hoss."

  Calder strove to find some way out. He could not. There was no waverin the hand that held that black gun. The brown eyes were decidedlydiscouraging to any attempt at a surprise. He felt helpless for thefirst time in his career.

  "Go over to him, Bart," said the gentle voice of the stranger. "Standfast!"

  The last two words, directed to Calder came, with a metallic hardness,for the marshal started as a great black dog slipped from behind atree and slunk towards him. This was the shadow which moved moreswiftly and noiselessly than a human being.

  "Keep back that damned wolf," he said desperately.

  "He ain't goin' to hurt you," said the calm voice. "Jest toss your gunto the ground."

  There was nothing else for it. Calder dropped his weapon with the butttowards Whistling Dan.

  "Bring it here, Bart," said the latter.

  The big animal lowered his head, still keeping his green eyes uponCalder, took up the revolver in his white fangs, and glided back tohis master.

  "Jest turn your back to me, an' keep your hands clear of your body,"said Dan.

  Calder obeyed, sweating with shame. He felt a hand pat his pocketslightly in search for a hidden weapon, and then, with his headslightly turned, he sensed the fact that Dan was dropping his revolverinto its holster. He whirled and drove his clenched fist straight atDan's face.

  What happened then he would never forget to the end of his life.Calder's weapon still hung in Dan's right hand, but the latter made noeffort to use it. He dropped the gun, and as Calder's right arm shotout, it was caught at the wrist, and jerked down with a force thatjarred his whole body.

  "Down, Bart!" shouted Dan. The great wolf checked in the midst of hisleap and dropped, whining with eagerness, at Calder's feet. At thesame time the marshal's left hand was seized and whipped across hisbody. He wrenched away with all his force. He might as well havestruggled with steel manacles. He was helpless, staring into eyeswhich now glinted with a yellow light that sent a cold wave tinglingthrough his blood.

  The yellow gleam died; his hands were loosed; but he made no move tospring at Dan's throat. Chill horror had taken the place of his shame,and the wolf-dog still whined at his feet with lips grinned back fromthe long white teeth.

  "Who in the name of God are you?" he gasped, and even as he spokethe truth came to him--the whistling--the panther-like speed ofhand--"Whistling Dan Barry."

  The other frowned.

  "If you didn't know my name why were you trailin' me?"

  "I wasn't after you," said Calder.

  "You was crawlin' along like that jest for fun? Friend, I figger toknow you. You been sent out by the tall man to lay for me."

  "What tall man?" asked Calder, his wits groping.

  "The one that swung the chair in Morgan's place," said Dan. "Nowyou're goin' to take me to your camp. I got something to say to him."

  "By the Lord!" cried the marshal, "you're trailing Silent."

  Dan watched him narrowly. It was hard to accuse those keen black eyesof deceit.

  "I'm trailin' the man who sent you out after me," he asserted with alittle less assurance.

  Calder tore open the front of his shirt and pushed back one side ofit. Pinned there next to his skin was his marshal's badge.

  He said: "My name's Tex Calder."

  It was a word to conjure with up and down the vast expanse of themountain-desert. Dan smiled, and the change of expression made himseem ten years younger.

  "Git down, Bart. Stand behind me!" The dog obeyed sullenly. "I'veheard a pile of men talk about you, Tex Calder." Their hands and theireyes met. There was a mutual respect in the glances. "An' I'm a pilesorry for this."

  He picked up the gun from the ground and extended it butt first to themarshal, who restored it slowly to the holster. It was the first timeit had ever been forced from his grasp.

  "Who was it you talked about a while ago?" asked Dan.

  "J
im Silent."

  Dan instinctively dropped his hand back to his revolver.

  "The tall man?"

  "The one you fought with in Morgan's place."

  The unpleasant gleam returned to Dan's eyes.

  "I thought there was only one reason why he should die, but now I seethere's a heap of 'em."

  Calder was all business.

  "How long have you been here?" he asked.

  "About a day."

  "Have you seen anything of Silent here among the willows?"

  "No."

  "Do you think he's still here?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I dunno. I'll stay here till I find him among the trees or he breaksaway into the open."

  "How'll you know when he leaves the willows?"

  Whistling Dan was puzzled.

  "I dunno," he answered. "Somethin' will tell me when he gets far awayfrom me--he an' his men."

  "It's an inner sense, eh? Like the smell of the bloodhound?" saidCalder, but his eyes were strangely serious.

  "This day's about done," he went on. "Have you any objections to mecamping with you here?"

  Not a cowpuncher within five hundred miles but would be glad of suchredoubted company. They went back to Calder's horse.

  "We can start for my clearing," said Dan. "Bart'll bring the hoss.Fetch him in."

  The wolf took the dangling bridle reins and led on the cowpony. Calderobserved his performance with starting eyes, but he was averse toasking questions. In a few moments they came out on a small openspace. The ground was covered with a quantity of dried bunch grasswhich a glorious black stallion was cropping. Now he tossed up hishead so that some of his long mane fell forward between his ears andat sight of Calder his ears dropped back and his eyes blazed, but whenDan stepped from the willows the ears came forward again with awhinny of greeting. Calder watched the beautiful animal with all theenthusiasm of an expert horseman. Satan was untethered; the saddle andbridle lay in a corner of the clearing; evidently the horse was a petand would not leave its master. He spoke gently and stepped forward tocaress the velvet shining neck, but Satan snorted and started away,trembling with excitement.

  "How can you keep such a wild fellow as this without hobbling him?"asked Calder.

  "He ain't wild," said Dan.

  "Why, he won't let me put a hand on him."

  "Yes, he will. Steady, Satan!"

  The stallion stood motionless with the veritable fires of hell in hiseyes as Calder approached. The latter stopped.

  "Not for me," he said. "I'd rather rub the moustache of the lion inthe zoo than touch that black devil!"

  Bart at that moment led in the cowpony and Calder started to removethe saddle. He had scarcely done so and hobbled his horse when he wasstartled by a tremendous snarling and snorting. He turned to see thestallion plunging hither and thither, striking with his fore-hooves,while around him, darting in and out under the driving feet, sprangthe great black wolf, his teeth clashing like steel on steel. Inanother moment they might sink in the throat of the horse! Calder,with an exclamation of horror, whipped out his revolver, but checkedhimself at the very instant of firing. The master of the two animalsstood with arms folded, actually smiling upon the fight!

  "For God's sake!" cried the marshal. "Shoot the damned wolf, man, orhe'll have your horse by the throat!"

  "Leave 'em be," said Dan, without turning his head. "Satan an' BlackBart ain't got any other dogs an' hosses to run around with. They'sjest playing a little by way of exercise."

  Calder stood agape before what seemed the incarnate fury of the pair.Then he noticed that those snapping fangs, however close they came,always missed the flesh of the stallion, and the driving hoofs neveractually endangered the leaping wolf.

  "Stop 'em!" he cried at last. "It makes me nervous to watch that sortof play. It isn't natural!"

  "All right," said Dan. "Stop it, boys."

  He had not raised his voice, but they ceased their wild gambolsinstantly, the stallion, with head thrown high and arched tail andheaving sides, while the wolf, with lolling red tongue, strolledcalmly towards his master.

  The latter paid no further attention to them, but set about kindling asmall fire over which to cook supper. Calder joined him. The marshal'smind was too full for speech, but now and again he turned a longglance of wonder upon the stallion or Black Bart. In the same silencethey sat under the last light of the sunset and ate their supper.Calder, with head bent, pondered over the man of mystery and his twotamed animals. Tamed? Not one of the three was tamed, the man least ofall.

  He saw Dan pause from his eating to stare with wide, vacant eyes amongthe trees. The wolf-dog approached, looked up in his master's face,whined softly, and getting no response went back to his place and laydown, his eyes never moving from Dan. Still he stared among the trees.The gloom deepened, and he smiled faintly. He began to whistle, a low,melancholy strain so soft that it blended with the growing hush of thenight. Calder listened, wholly overawed. That weird music seemed aninterpretation of the vast spaces of the mountains, of the pitilessdesert, of the limitless silences, and the whistler was anunderstanding part of the whole.

  He became aware of a black shadow behind the musician. It was Satan,who rested his nose on the shoulder of the master. Without ceasing hiswhistling Dan raised a hand, touched the small muzzle, and Satan wentat once to a side of the clearing and lay down. It was almost as ifthe two had said good-night! Calder could stand it no longer.

  "Dan, I've got to talk to you," he began.

  The whistling ceased; the wide brown eyes turned to him.

  "Fire away--partner."

  Ay, they had eaten together by the same fire--they had watched thecoming of the night--they had shaken hands in friendship--they werepartners. He knew deep in his heart that no human being could everbe the actual comrade of this man. This lord of the voiceless desertneeded no human companionship; yet as the marshal glanced from theblack shadow of Satan to the gleaming eyes of Bart, and then tothe visionary face of Barry, he felt that he had been admitted byWhistling Dan into the mysterious company. The thought stirred himdeeply. It was as if he had made an alliance with the wandering wind.Why he had been accepted he could not dream, but he had heard the word"partner" and he knew it was meant. After all, stranger thingsthan this happen in the mountain-desert, where man is greater andconvention less. A single word has been known to estrange lifelongcomrades; a single evening beside a camp-fire has changed foes topartners. Calder drew his mind back to business with a great effort.

  "There's one thing you don't know about Jim Silent. A reward of tenthousand dollars lies on his head. The notices aren't posted yet."

  Whistling Dan shrugged his shoulders.

  "I ain't after money," he answered.

  Calder frowned. He did not appreciate a bluff.

  "Look here," he said, "if we kill him, because no power on earth willtake him alive--we'll split the money."

  "If you lay a hand on him," said Dan, without emotion, "we won't befriends no longer, I figger."

  Calder stared.

  "If you don't want to get him," he said, "why in God's name are youtrailing him this way?"

  Dan touched his lips. "He hit me with his fist."

  He paused, and spoke again with a drawling voice that gave his wordsan uncanny effect.

  "My blood went down from my mouth to my chin. I tasted it. Till I gethim there ain't no way of me forgettin' him."

  His eyes lighted with that ominous gleam.

  "That's why no other man c'n put a hand on him. He's laid out all forme. Understand?"

  The ring of the question echoed for a moment through Calder's mind.

  "I certainly do," he said with profound conviction, "and I'll neverforget it." He decided on a change of tactics. "But there are othermen with Jim Silent and those men will fight to keep you from gettingto him."

  "I'm sorry for 'em," said Dan gently. "I ain't got nothin' agin anyone except the big man."

  Calder took a long
breath.

  "Don't you see," he explained carefully, "if you shoot one of thesemen you are simply a murderer who must be apprehended by the law andpunished."

  "It makes it bad for me, doesn't it?" said Dan. "An' I hope I won'thave to hurt more'n one or two of 'em. You see,"--he leaned forwardseriously towards Calder--"I'd only shoot for their arms or theirlegs. I wouldn't spoil them altogether."

  Calder threw up his hands in despair. Black Bart snarled at thegesture.

  "I can't listen no more," said Dan. "I got to start explorin' thewillows pretty soon."

  "In the dark?" exclaimed Calder.

  "Sure. Black Bart'll go with me. The dark don't bother him."

  "I'll go along."

  "I'd rather be alone. I might meet him."

  "Any way you want," said Calder, "but first hear my plan--it doesn'ttake long to tell it."

  The darkness thickened around them while he talked. The fire diedout--the night swallowed up their figures.