CHAPTER XXIV
THE FIGHT
The boy ranchers, meaning this time Nort and Dick, as distinguished from Bud, felt that they were on their mettle—that they were being put to a severe test. They had ridden out from the mysterious camp of the professors, and now they were to ride back to it, leading the raiding party. True, they had come out at night, and under the stress of excitement, so that it was not easy to determine the trail back.
But as the boys rode alone, each at the head of a cavalcade that was beginning to diverge, they felt the full measure of responsibility. One of them must make good—must pick up the obscure trail leading to the rendezvous of the cattle rustlers.
It was Dick who proved the lucky one this time. The party led by Nort was out of sight among the many hills and swales, when Dick, riding past a water hole, stopped suddenly.
"The trail goes in that way," he said. "I'm sure of it. Blackie stopped here when we were riding out, to get a drink."
"Are you sure he stopped here?" asked Babe, who was with Dick's party.
"Positive! He stopped in such a hurry that I slid off and fell, and this excited him so I had quite a job holding him."
In an instant one of the cowboys was out of his saddle and looking carefully at the ground.
"The kid's right!" he exclaimed. "There's been some sort of a fracas here."
In that country, where rains were infrequent, and travel light, marks remained for a long time on the dry ground.
"I'm sure it was here," declared Dick, "and we came out that way." He pointed toward some distant hills.
"Well, we'll take a chance on it," said Babe. "Light a fire, fellows."
In a few minutes a column of smoke was ascending, and two of the cowboys, holding a blanket over it, moved the cloth to one side at intervals, so that puffs of the dark vapor arose and floated upward.
"That'll call 'em," observed Babe, who sat on his horse directing operations, at the same time scanning the horizon for answering signals from Nort's party.
"Won't the rustlers see these and skip out?" asked Dick, as the smoke puffs went up thick and fast.
"Don't believe so," spoke Babe. "If they do see 'em they'll only think they're camp fires, or round-up blazes."
"We'll do the rounding-up," grimly commented Snake Purdee. "But of course these fellows may be on the lookout. Can't hardly expect much else after they come to know that their prisoners have skipped, and the Greaser has gone back to his baby days, eating paregoric! Oh, my spurs! That was slick!"
"There they are!" suddenly cried Dick, as he descried other smoke signals going up, about three miles away. And in a short time there rode up to the waiting ones the members of the other party.
"Dick says this is the trail in," remarked Babe, detailing our hero's reasons for his statement.
"Yes, he's right," assented Nort. "We did come this way."
"All right then! Go to it, boys!" commanded Mr. Merkel, and the party rode off.
As they advanced, the configuration of the ground became more and more familiar to the two boys. They passed places which they had ridden over in approaching the half-hidden valley, before they fairly stumbled on it and were captured.
"I reckon we're getting warm," decided Mr. Merkel, after several hours of cautious riding. "Some of you fellows better take it on foot for half a mile or so, and see what you can locate. We'll wait for you here."
Two cowboys, leaving their horses rather reluctantly, formed an advance scouting party, and the others waited down in a little swale. In less than half an hour the two scouts had returned, and their manner showed suppressed excitement.
"We located 'em," said one. "They're in the next valley.'
"What are they doing?" asked Bud.
"We didn't stop to see that," was the answer. "As soon as we saw the white tents we came back."
"All right," said Mr. Merkel grimly, "now we've got 'em! Spread out, boys, and don't do any shooting unless it's absolutely necessary. We just want to capture the rascals. But be sure your guns are in working order."
Most of the cowboys knew this without looking, but Bud, Nort and Dick made a careful inspection of their weapons.
Proceeding cautiously, the cavalcade approached. Some had been sent on in advance, to circle about and approach the valley from the far side, thus enabling it to be surrounded.
Two shots, fired at a brief interval, was to be a signal from the advance party, led by Slim, that they were in place, and ready to attack.
"There! One shot!" suddenly cried Bud, as a sharp report cut the air.
It was followed, almost immediately, by another.
"Come on, boys!" cried Mr. Merkel, and there was a general leaping to saddles. Bud and his cousins were not a bit behind the cowboys and a little later, amid shouts, the two parties rode at a fast clip down the slopes toward the mysterious camp.
"Look! There are your cattle!" cried Nort to Mr. Merkel, as several steers were seen, standing in a bunch near some queer piece of apparatus that looked like a derrick.
"That's right!" shouted the cattleman, for he had caught sight of the animals bearing the Diamond X brand. "But what in the name of sour dough biscuits are they doing?" he asked. "If these are rustlers they're the queerest ones I ever saw!"
"Well, they're rustlers all right!" yelled several of the cowboys.
"Come on, fellows! Let's get at 'em!"
"Right you are, Buddy!" rang out savage, exultant yells on all sides. The cowboys wished for nothing better than to come to hand grips with lawless men who stole the fruit of others' labor. "Treat 'em rough!"
"Sit tight and ride hard!" called Bud to Nort and Dick. "There's going to be some hot work!" and he spoke to his pony, which leaped forward as if he, too, wanted to get into the fight.
"Will we need our guns?" asked Dick.
"Better have 'em handy!" advised Nort, as his hand went to the leather holster at his hip.
"Look at 'em!" shouted Bud. "They're going to fight us all right!"
Indeed, it did appear that the party in the camp established by the professors, taken by surprise as they were, meant to resist to the utmost. Men could be seen running back to the tents, whence some reappeared with guns or big .45s. Others, including the two professors themselves, remained at the scene where some of the Diamond X cattle were attached by ropes to the apparatus that looked like the derrick.
"Are they trying to brand your cattle over again, Bud?" asked Dick as he and his cousin rode alongside of the young rancher.
"I don't know," was the answer. "If they are, they're going about it in a new way. I wonder what they are up to, anyhow?"
Well might he ask that, for as the raiding party made its rush into the valley several men near the professors, were urging forward the steers that were harnessed, or yoked together in some manner, to cause them to act as a lifting force. By means of ropes rigged over the derrick-like structure, something heavy was being hoisted from a great hole in the ground.
The steers, unused to this work, for which gentle oxen might have been admirably fitted, were acting wildly, and the Greasers, and other campers, were having their hands full. This with the shouts of the attacking party, the thud of the feet of many galloping horses and the firing of shots into the air by the wildly enthusiastic cowboys from Diamond X, made the place one of great confusion.
"Rout 'em out, boys!"
"Haze 'em into the brook!"
"Cut out our cattle!"
"Rope 'em an' hog-tie 'em!"
These were only a few of the many directions that were yelled at the tops of voices as the boy ranchers and their friends swept onward down the valley, converging on the band of men they believed to be cattle rustlers, if not something worse.
"Hands up, there!"
"Drop those guns!"
These commands came sternly from Mr. Merkel, Babe and Slim, while Dick and Nort, riding beside Bud, felt a wild thrill as they realized that they were to have a part in this strenuous fight. To possible danger they gave not a thought.
But if the attacking party thought everything was to be easy, it was not long before this idea vanished. After the first surprise, the Greasers, and other rough characters in the camp of the professors, regained their nerve, and prepared to fight. There were shouts in hissing Spanish, and Del Pinzo was observed to be rallying his followers.
Bud and his cousins had a glimpse of this wily Mexican leaping on his horse, and, surrounded by a number of evil-looking men, riding straight for the invaders.
"They're coming!" cried Nort.
"I see 'em!" muttered Dick.
"Keep together!" advised Bud in a wild cry. "Stay with me, and we'll ride right through 'em!"
Several weapons popped, and two or three saddles were emptied, one on the side of the Diamond X forces. Nort and Dick heard bullets whistling in the air over their heads, and though they may have ducked, instinctively, they did not after the first two or three of these nerve-racking experiences.
"Come on! Come on!" yelled Bud to his cousins, as they saw Del Pinzo and his gang of Greasers spurring toward them.
Nort and Dick touched their horses lightly, and the spirited ponies sprang forward. Dick had a glimpse of the two professors, and one or two other men, standing by the derrick structure as though dazed at the sudden turn in affairs. Some of the helpers were endeavoring to quiet the harnessed cattle.
"Ride 'em down, boys! Ride 'em down!" yelled Mr. Merkel.
"You said it!" shouted Slim Degnan, and Babe added his voice to the din, the while starting one of the verses of his cowboys' song.
"Crack!"
That was a gun going off close to the ear of Dick. He leaned over slightly in his saddle, fearing he had been hit. But in another instant he realized that Bud had fired, with a pistol held so close to the eastern lad's ear as nearly to deafen him.
"Well, I got him, anyhow!" yelled Bud, and Dick saw a man who had been riding at Del Pinzo's side drop his gun and clasp his right hand in his left. "That's what I wanted to do—disarm him. No need to shoot to kill!" Bud went on.
Dick saw a Mexican riding straight at him, and the boy endeavored to bring his weapon to bear as Bud had done. But just as the boy rancher was going to pull the trigger something else happened. He felt himself flying over the head of his pony, and the next moment came heavily to the ground, while blackness closed his eyes. Dick was out of the fight.
The battle between the cowboys and the Greasers now waged hotly. Guns cracked on both sides and more than one saddle was emptied. This before the two forces actually came together. And come together they did, with the thud of horses and men meeting, as when two rival football elevens clash on the gridiron. Only this was more desperate.
Nort had a glimpse of Dick being unhorsed and left behind in a silent, huddled heap on the ground. A wave of sorrow, and then a wild feeling of revenge, swept through Nort's heart. He sent his pony ahead with a rush, endeavoring to wheel him to attack the man at whom Dick had been riding when unseated.
"Look out!" Bud yelled.
Nort turned in time to see Del Pinzo himself bearing down on him astride of a powerful black horse. The Greaser was yelling and waving his gun, from the muzzle of which smoke floated.
"I'll get him!" yelled Nort, savagely. He swerved his own weapon, bringing it to bear on the evilly smiling Mexican, and Nort's own face lit up in a grim smile, for he thought to revenge Dick.
But the next instant he felt a burning, stinging pain across his forehead and a second later his eyes saw nothing, while he was conscious that they were filled with blood that streamed from his wound.
"I'm shot!" was the thought that flashed through Nort's mind.
He endeavored to pull up his pony, conscious that he was losing control over the animal. He wanted his eyes to see where he was heading.
By a great effort of will Nort caught up his gun in his bridle hand, and with his right wiped away as much of the blood as he could from his eyes. A great emotion of thankfulness passed over him as he found that he could still see, though dimly.
He caught sight of Del Pinzo still spurring toward him, but the next moment a curious change took place.
"Let me have him!" Nort heard Bud yell, seemingly from a great distance, though, in reality from a position directly behind him. Then as his vision dimmed again, Nort caught a fleeting sight of a lasso whirling and writhing through the air toward the Greaser.
Del Pinzo tried in vain to dodge it, but his horse was traveling too fast. Then, as darkness again closed down on poor Nort he had a vision of the Greaser, covered with blood, shouting and wildly jerking his arms and legs, being pulled from the saddle to the ground, his gun going off harmlessly as he was yanked along.
"Bud got him!" was the thought that flashed through Nort's mind, and then all became black, and he felt some one helping him down out of his saddle.
"Where's Dick? I'm not much hurt!" Nort heard himself murmuring, though, to tell the truth, he did not know for certain whether he was mortally wounded or not. "Look after Dick! Are they beating us?" he asked, though he could not see to whom he was talking.
"Dick's all right," answered a voice that Nort recognized as that of
Babe. "It's you we're worried about."
"Nothing much the matter with me," spoke Nort, as his hand again went to his head. Then he found that a bullet had creased its way across his forehead, cutting a long gash, but making a wound that was only superficial, though it bled profusely.
"Are we getting licked?" demanded Nort anxiously, as more shots resounded in the valley, and he could hear the yells of cowboys, the clashing of bodies one against the other and the lowing of the cattle.
"No, we've got 'em on the run!" exulted Babe. "Come on, till I lead you to water, and you can wash off that blood. You look bad that way, even if you aren't hurt much!"
"Are you sure Dick's all right?" Nort asked.
"Sure! His horse stumbled and threw him. He's limping over this way now."
"Good!" murmured Nort, and his heart felt better.
But the fighting was not over yet. Driven partly from the valley at the first rush of the boy ranchers and their friends from Diamond X, the Greasers and Mexican cowboys returned with a rush. This took place when Nort was trying to rid himself of some of the blood that had flowed freely from the gash on his head.
"There goes Yellin' Kid!" cried Babe, as he darted away from Nort's side.
"Killed?" asked the boy, who could not see just then, as some water got in his eyes.
"Killed? Shucks, no!" yelled Babe exultantly. "He rode into one Greaser and knocked him seven ways from Sunday, and roped another, yankin' him out of the saddle! Oh, boy!" and with a yell Babe ran to join in the fray.
Nort cleared his face of blood and water long enough to see Snake Purdee keel over out of his saddle as a bullet struck him, though it afterward developed that the cowboy was not badly hurt.
Slim was slightly wounded, and Mr. Merkel had a narrow escape. But though the Diamond X bunch took hard knocks they gave harder ones. Nor did the professors escape scathless, for Mr. Wright was grazed by a spent bullet, and his helper was horned by one of the wild steers.
"There they go! We've made 'em run for cover!" shrilly cried Yellin'
Kid as he spurred after the last of the lawless men. "Yip! Yippy!
There they go!"
And go the rascals did—that is, those who were not wounded or captured.