by Fran Striker
Chapter XI
THE LONE RANGER RIDES
The lone ranger kept the mask across his eyes and experimented with hisguns. His shoulder made it hard for him to draw the gun on his left, buthe found that his smooth speed seemed to have suffered no loss when hedrew the other shining weapon. As a test he unloaded and holstered thepistol. "I'll just make sure," he muttered to Tonto. Standing with hisright hand straight before him, palm down, he placed a pebble on theback of his hand. He dropped the hand with almost invisible speed,jerked out his gun, leveled it, and snapped the hammer back, then down.All this was done before the pebble touched the ground.
Tonto grinned at the demonstration and said, "That do."
The masked man sat down and replaced the cartridges in his gun'scylinder. "So we're going to travel together," he said.
Tonto nodded slowly.
The Lone Ranger liked the idea. Tonto's unequaled knowledge of woodcraftand his animal-like skill in following a trail that was invisible towhite men would make him a powerful ally.
Tonto told about the cattle trails he'd found beyond the top of ThunderMountain, and the trail that led from the mountain's top to the clearingand beyond into the Basin. He told of his suspicions that stolen cattlewere harbored in the Basin.
When the masked man asked where Tonto had secured the food he'd brought,the Indian evaded answering. His pride had suffered when he had beencompelled to ask a girl to help him. He felt just a little bit like manyof the vagrant, begging Indians that were so despised in certain partsof the country. Nothing but the urgent need of his friend would haveprompted Tonto to request those favors, and he fully intended some dayto wipe out the obligation. The Lone Ranger didn't press the point.
Tonto did, however, answer many questions that had bothered the maskedman when he explained how he happened to find the cave. He had heardshots in the Gap, and gone toward the sound. Scrambling down a rockyside of the canyon in the dark, he had seen a white horse dimly outlinedin the darkness. He hadn't suspected that the horse was Silver, butinstinctively he had sounded the birdlike trill that Silver knew. Whenthe big stallion came to Tonto's side, he saw that there was noequipment behind the saddle and assumed that Silver was alone. He hadled Silver into hiding until dawn, when he followed the back trail tothe scene of murder. Signs there showed that one man had gone woundedfrom the scene. He followed, then, the blood-marked trail until he cameto the cave.
"As simple as all that," the masked man commented when Tonto finishedhis recital. "If I hadn't been so nearly unconscious, I'd haverecognized your whistle."
The two spent most of the forenoon making plans and preparations. Themasked man's wounds still bothered him, but he felt equal to a long rideand he was eager to get started on his investigation. He wore the maskcontinually, so it would become a familiar part of him, and notsomething strange that hampered his movements.
After their noon meal the two were ready, with their duffle loaded onthe backs of Scout and Silver. The white horse seemed eager to be inaction once again with his master in the saddle. He whinnied jubilantlywhen the cinch was pulled tight, and his great strength showed in everyrippling muscle beneath his snow white coat.
Tonto mounted Scout, then waited. The Lone Ranger placed one foot in thestirrup and shouted, "Hi-Yo Silver!" The big horse lunged ahead."Away-y-y," the ringing, clear voice cried as the masked man settled inthe saddle. Silver was a white flame leaping ahead, with silky mane andtail blown straight out by the wind, like the plumes of a knight inwhite armor. Sharp hoofs hammered on the hard rocks in a tattoo thatthrilled like rolling drums. Silver had his master in the saddle, Tontoclose behind him. The master's voice rang out again to echo both ways inthe canyon, "Hi-Yo Silver, Away-y-y-y." Tonto, watching from his saddleclose behind the mighty Silver, whispered, "Now Lone Ranger ride."
A stretch of flat tableland extended for several miles between the rimof the Gap and the foot of Thunder Mountain. After the first thrillingdash, the Lone Ranger slowed Silver to let Tonto take the lead and setthe route. The Indian knew exactly where to go to reach the mountain'stop without passing through the Basin. The masked man was not strongenough for great activity, but Tonto anticipated none for the timebeing. The purpose of this trip was merely one of observation. TheIndian intended to point out cattle trails he'd seen, and study them. Inso doing he and the Lone Ranger would get further away from the dangerof the cave's proximity to the Basin killers.
Tonto felt sure that the ride wouldn't overtax the masked man. He knewhis white friend was perfectly at home in the big saddle and perhaps farmore comfortable than he'd be chafing with inactivity in the cave.
After an hour or so of riding, the ground became more rocky anddifficult. Just ahead the mountain rose majestically. Thunder Mountaindidn't divulge her secret dangers. At first the ground sloped onlygently upward, with an occasional large tree that gave soft shade. Likea seductress in green, the mountain lured the stranger on with promisesof things that were ahead. The trees became more frequent; then largertrees with tangled vines in close embrace made travel harder. As theclimb became steeper, leafy discards which had rotted to soft loam gavebirth to rank weeds.
The inclination increased so gradually that one wasn't aware that it waschanging. The Lone Ranger realized quite suddenly that his horse waslaboring. The weeds had become a crazy tangle, merging with the vinesthat hung from overhead like spectral streamers. There was a constantclammy caress of invisible cobwebs on the Lone Ranger's face, and theless subtle, sometimes painful brushing of tree trunks against histhighs.
Silver's coat became blood-flecked where briars and brambles raked theskin. The riders had frequently to crouch or be swept from the saddle bylow, far-reaching branches. None but Tonto could possibly have followedthis weird and devious route.
Daylight in the woods was at best twilight. Human intrusion brought aconstant cacophony of cries and chattered complaints from birds andbeasts. No breeze could possibly penetrate this fastness, and the breathof the decaying things was hot and fetid as it rose from the ground. Themost distant horizon was within arm's reach. Underbrush so high that itreached overhead rose from slime that was sometimes ankle-deep.
The ride seemed endless, but the end came without warning. Breakingthrough a particularly dense cover of berry canes with briars that hurt,the riders found it clear ahead. The land was hard and almost arid. Athought made the masked man smile despite his exhaustion. Old ThunderMountain needn't be so proud--her head was bald. Wind and rain hadswept the summit clean except for a few gaunt stumps oflightning-blasted trees.
Tonto was at the masked man's side, offering to help him from thesaddle.
"Now we rest," he said. "You need rest plenty bad."
"I'm able to go on, Tonto. It's good to be riding again."
Tonto shook his head. "We stop here. You rest. Tonto talk."