Scott Burton on the Range

by Edward G. Cheyney

The roar of the torrent was always with him. Now the trail dipped down to its very edge, into it once; now it climbed high on the side of the cañon and skirted a narrow ledge at the edge of a wall of rock. The hollow booming of the waters hinted of sickening depths within easy reach of a misplaced foot. It seemed marvelous to Scott that Jed could run at that breakneck speed on such rugged ground, but the horse had been born in the mountains, had raced over them all his life, and he never stumbled.

He was gaining on the flood. Already he had passed the crest of the wave from the shattered sluice gates. There was water in the stream, plenty of it, from the drainage below the dam, but it was not the raging torrent which it had been higher up. The storm was lessening now. A star or two were peeping through the rifts in the black clouds and the profiles of the mountains were beginning to loom in darker shadows. Scott recognized the ridge ahead where the lookout station was located. He had to turn to the left there and follow the valley instead of going up over the pass the way he had come. From there on the country was wholly new to him and he would have to trust entirely to Jed. He wondered whether he ought to try to stop at the station and get Benny to telephone the news.

A dull roar like the rumble of distant thunder shook the mountain and Scott knew that the dam had given way. There was no time to lose now. The rush of water from the sluice gates would be like a dribble compared with the mighty avalanche of water which would roar down the valley now. Moreover, Jed was not yet under control and he would do well if he could hold him in the valley trail, to say nothing of stopping at Benny’s.

He began to talk soothingly to Jed and tried to steady him a little. As he approached the turn in the valley he made out a figure standing on the opposite edge of the stream. He recognized Benny and tried to stop, but Jed was not yet ready to listen to reason. Scott succeeded in turning him, probably because he did not want to cross the stream, but he could not stop him. He had no control over him at all.

“The dam is gone. Telephone,” he shouted at the top of his voice as he rushed past. Either Benny did not understand or could do nothing for he stood there quietly on the edge of the stream and listened to the roar of the cañon.

The ground was more even here in the wider valley, and much easier going for the horse. He had already covered five miles at that terrific pace, and although it did not seem to be telling on his splendid physique it seemed impossible for any animal to keep that up for the remaining fifteen miles to the valley. Scott began to talk to him once more. It was the only influence to which the big horse had ever seemed susceptible. There was no longer the roar of the water in the cañon to frighten him. There were not the same deafening thunder crashes with their weird reverberations, the rending of the gates was fading from his memory. Gradually Scott could feel the straining effort lessening. He was still making splendid time, but he was running more smoothly and he turned back his ear to listen when Scott talked to him.

Four miles of that smooth running in the upper valley and then down the steep trail to the main valley in which the town was located. The trail came out to the plain near the home of the last rancher whom Scott had gone to see about the free use permits. It was here that the strange procession had ended that day. As Jed shot out of the cañon into the open a man’s form darkened the lighted doorway. Evidently he had heard the clatter of the rapidly approaching hoofs on the rocky trail.

Scott slowed down and shouted, “The dam has burst. You better beat it. Telephone the others.”

He loosened the rein and Jed sped on. The figure disappeared instantly and looking back over his shoulder Scott could see the lights bobbing about the house. It was a warning of disaster to those people and they did not hesitate. It meant the destruction of their homes and all of their possessions which they could not move to the higher ground along the base of the valley cliffs.

At each of the other houses he had to stop and shout to get the people out. They had had no warning. The whole telephone system had been disabled by the storm. The message delivered, there was no delay, no stopping to get an explanation. The men sprang silently back to the houses and wasted none of the precious moments which were left them. They had been living in dread of just this thing for years and now it had come. They had been fearing it too long to be in any doubt as to what to do now.