CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SKIRMISHES
Oscar arrived durin' the night with the whole four Simpson boys; andword that Kit and the kid were in fine shape, with ol' man Simpsonkeepin' a sharp watch, and Kit ready to take a standpat hand any timetrouble crowded too close. We expected to keep Ty busy, and so didn'tworry any about Kit. Before dawn we started the four Simpsons out tomake a circle and cross the crick, tellin' 'em to use their ownjudgment to some extent; but not to run any risk. We wanted 'em to actlike scouts and, if possible, to draw Ty into chasin' 'em, and then tolead him back to our camp. We could see all of the other side o' thecrick from our look-out.
By dawn the rest of us were down on the edge of the cliff, and we saw'em find Dixon's body. They were consid'able excited about it; so wejudged they had also read the notice on the door.
"What shall we do, to-day?" asked Horace.
"Shoot dogs," sez I. "There ain't any call to play safe any longer,and those dogs are the worst bother we have."
"All right," sez Horace. "This will be a good chance for me to see ifI'm still in practice. I'm a purty good rifle-shot, Happy."
I never could quite harden myself to Horace. The change in him wasalmost as much as that between an egg and a chicken; but yet the' wasstill a suggestion of what he had been at first--his side-burns, mostlikely--and it allus jarred me to see him steamin' ahead withself-confidence fizzin' out of his safety valve. He took his elephantgun and trained it on one o' the dogs which was sniffin' around theplace where Dixon's body had lain. We were purty well off to the northof the ravine; but it was still a consid'able angle of a down-shot,and a good long one too.
"Remember," sez I, "that when shootin' down grade, you are mighty aptto shoot too high."
He lowered his gun an' looked at me as though I had called him a girlbaby. "I have shot from every angle the' is," sez he; "and I've shotbig game, too."
"Ex-cuse _me_!" sez I. "Shoot now, and let's see what happens."
You had to take off your hat to Horace when it came to a cultivatedtaste in firearms. The thing he had got Promotheus with had been smallenough to conceal in your back hair, while his present instrumentwasn't rightly a rifle at all, it was a half-grown cannon. It shot abullet as big as your thumb which mushroomed out and exploded, as soonas it hit. The dog died a merciful death; but he left a mightydisquietin' bunch o' remains.
"Good boy, Horace!" I said, slappin' him on the shoulder. "You keep onremovin' the dogs, and I'll go up the slope, and pertect your rear,should they try to come up the ravine."
I heartily endorsed this slaughter o' the dogs; but I wasn't ambitiousto see it done. I have been well acquainted with a large number o'dogs of all sorts and sizes, and I have deep feelin's for dogs. Whenit comes to livin' accordin' to a feller's own standard, a dog has usall beat. When a dog signs up, he don't whisper nothin' under hisbreath. He signs up for the full trip, and he don't ask a lot o'questions about how long the hours'll be, or what sort o' grub andquarters and pay he'll draw. He just wags his tail, and sez: "Thishere feller is my idea of exactly what a feller ought to be; and I'mfor him in all he does. If he wants me to fight, I'm hungry for it, ifhe wants me to be polite and swaller a lot o' insults, I'll do it, orif the time comes when my death is worth more to him 'n my life, why,I don't know nothin' about future rewards or such truck; but I'mperfectly willin' to swap life for death in his name, and I'm proud totake the consequences--so long as he gets the reward."
I own up 'at a dog has no morality; he's only a reflection of hismaster. A decent man has a decent dog, a vicious man has a viciousdog--and this is why it would have hurt me more to watch Horacetestin' his aim on the dogs 'n it would if he had been minded to pot afew Cross-branders themselves, especially Ty Jones.
Now, the sound o' this gun, and the sight of the dead dog made thingsbuzz down below. The men peered out from all directions, but hardlyknew what to do. I had sent Mexican Slim off to the right, just abovethe ravine, to pick off any dogs 'at came in that direction, and soonafter Horace got his, Slim also got one; and Ty whistled the dogs tocome to the house. Here was where his method of treatin' a dog showedup bad. Any time before this, a dog which so much as set foot on theporch had been belted with anything capable of inflictin' pain, andnow they refused to go inside.
The Chink was able to whistle 'em to the cook-house; but that was asfar as they'd go; and while they were standin' in a bunch, Horace andSlim each got one. Ty was standin' near one o' the poles which upheldthe back porch, and Horace exploded a slab from this pole in such away that it knocked Ty down. This put the whole bunch into aconsternation. Horace certainly could shoot some. It made me think o'the poorhouse, when I reflected on what it had cost him to learn how.
Nothin' much happened that day. Horace and Slim stuck to theirknittin', and the Simpson boys played their part well. They rode in abunch, and when they'd come in sight o' the ranch house, one wouldhold the field-glass case to his eyes, as though lookin' through thefield glasses, and another would turn and wave his hands, as thoughsignallin' to some one up in the hills. Once, two punchers went to thecorral and saddled hosses; but Horace shot one o' the hosses, and bothmen flew for the stable without waitin' to take off the saddles. Theyhad never seen such wounds as Horace's elephant gun created, and itput 'em in a mighty thoughtful mood.
The Simpson boys came in soon after dark; and we all held a council ofwar while eatin' supper. I was purty certain that we had a betterbunch o' men than those we were fightin'. It is no test of nerve tokill a man: a lot o' men who got the reputation o' bein' bad werenothin' but accidents or sneaks; but when you have to stick through aslow fight without knowin' the odds again' ya, it gives your nerve amighty searchin' try-out. I had hopes that after a day or so, they'dbe certain that the hills on all sides of 'em were full of enemies,and they'd be mighty glad to settle on our terms. I didn't want tokill a single man more 'n was necessary. Horace also thought we couldwear out their nerve; but Olaf shook his head.
"Some o' the punchers may desert in the night," sez he; "but as longas a single one remains to stand back to back with Ty Jones, TyJones'll stay and fight. He has no fear--I have seen."
"The question is this," sez I, "if those fellers are the kind to getfiercer the longer they're kept in suspense, the thing to do is toraid 'em to-night; but, on the other hand, if they're the kind whosenerve evaporates when it is kept uncovered, the thing to do is to wear'em down. Let's vote on it."
We decided to do some more wearin'; so we kept a guard at the camp,and the rest of us went down to the cliff, and tossed over stones towhere we thought they'd be hid, providin' they had put guards at themouth of the ravine. We raised a yelp the first throw, and heard arush o' men from the new cabin, though the shadow was so dense downbelow we couldn't see a thing. This showed us that some o' the dogsstill survived and were bein' used as guards, and also that there weremen quartered in the woman's cabin. This was a bother, as it wouldforce us to be careful until we found out where she was livin'.
We posted a guard at the top of the path leadin' up from the ravine,another at our camp, and went to sleep, feelin' purty tol'able wellfixed. Nothin' happened that night, and the next day, we made ready todo about the same as we had done the day before; but when we reachedthe cliff, the' wasn't a sign o' life below--not a single, breathin'thing in sight, not even a hoss in the pasture.
"They've got away!" exclaimed Horace.
"Where to?" sez Olaf. "Ty Jones hasn't any more use for the law 'n wehave, and you'll never make me believe 'at he's pulled out and leftall his belongin's for whoever wants 'em."
"That's so," sez I; "but where the deuce are they?"
We watched all mornin'; but not a sign, not a bit o' smoke from thecook-house, just the ranch buildin's settin' there as deserted as theGarden of Eden. The Simpsons were workin' their stunts across thecrick; so about ten in the mornin', Slim and Dutch rode over to tell'em to come in, as they would look mighty foolish, providin' they weremakin' signals to one of the hills where the Cross-br
anders themselveswere hid.
After eatin' dinner, the rest of us went down to the lookout, Horaceshoulderin' his elephant exterminator, and lookin' peevish andfretful, 'cause the' was nothin' to shoot at. "Boys," sez I, "do yasuppose 'at poor old Promotheus has been goin' all this time onnothin' but water."
"He's gone longer 'n this on nothing but water," sez Horace; "and sohave I. Over in Africa, once, we sent a tribe o' blacks around to beatsome lions out for us; but they fell in with another tribe who werenot friendly, and they just kept on goin'. Promotheus and I were lostfrom everything, and we got into a desert before we found a way out.We went for I don't know how long without water. Anyway, we went longenough to get into that numb condition when the earth becomes moltencopper, and the sky a sun glass, and a man himself feels like anotherman's nightmare. That tender old Promotheus you're sympathizin' with,carried me the best part of a day, or a century--time had meltedentirely away--and when we came back to our senses we lay beside apool of water. He's tough, Promotheus is."
"At the same time," sez Tank, "settin' cooped up in a log hut withnothin' to cheer ya but water, isn't my idy of havin' high jinks."
"Perhaps, too," sez Spider Kelley, who didn't have enough sense offitness to change a nickel, "those mongrel coyotes lynched both himan' the Friar before they vamosed."
"They wouldn't do that," sez Olaf; "but I wish we knew what they haddone."
"Let's go and shoot at the old cabin or the bunk-shack," sez Oscar.
"I move we wait, and raid 'em to-night," sez I, and this was what wedecided to do.
The rest of us lolled about purty patient--as active men, an' beaststoo, are likely to do when the's nothin' on hand--but Horace who hadlived in a room most of his life, hadn't quite learned to turn off hissteam when he hadn't any use for it; so he kept bobbin' up and fussin'about. All of a sudden, he gave a sort of gasp, and pointed up theslope.
We looked and saw one man crouched over and runnin' along where thesouth trail to our camp swung around a crag; and we sprang to ourfeet, and looked up at the camp. As we looked, the face of Ty Joneswith a grin on it, poked up over a stone and leered down at us mostexasperatin'.
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