“There ain’t many of ’em,” he whispered. “We must make ’em sick at the first shooting. I’m going to slip along the ridge to get that second man. Let yourn come right to the foot of the bluff. Wait till you kin see his eyes; then bust him where he’s biggest.”
Yesterday’s fighting had absorbed most of Gordon’s thrills. But now, as he lay looking down at the revueltoso coming on a little, ambling jog, he sustained a queer revulsion. Yesterday he had lain and loaded and fired as steadily as any of the Three. But, somehow, this seemed different—as different as a duel from a cavalry charge. His Anglo-Saxon instinct for fair play revolted at this ambushing of a single man. When, pausing at the foot of the bluff, the fellow looked up Gordon experienced an absurd impulse to rise and shoot from the shoulder after fair warning.
But while he hesitated Lee turned in her sleep and sighed. It stiffened him, that gentle sigh. A glance along the ridge showed Bull sighting from behind a rock. Drawing his own bead, he fired.
At the crack of the rifle Lee slid from under the ramada, startled and wide-eyed, in time to see the man collapse in the saddle, then slide headlong to the ground. Bull’s man was also down, and as the riderless horses threw up their heads and galloped away the dust clouds along the sage whirled back and combined half a mile away.
By that time Bull had returned, and as they moved on back he pointed at a gap in a low range that drew its jagged line across the horizon. “That is the Tejon Pass—about ten miles away. The American border is on’y twelve beyond. Mexicans never fight in the dark. If we kin hold ’em till then we’ll have all night to climb through the Pass.”
They made a good gain while the revueltosos were recovering from that first sharp lesson. By the time the latter had described a wide circle around the bluff Bull had taken up a second position on a smaller elevation, and held it while Lee and Gordon retired still further.
Thus began a repetition of the previous day’s fighting—with this disadvantage, lacking horses in open country devoid of the limestone ridges that afforded natural barriers, and surrounded most of the time with tall sagebrush, they had to keep up a constant fire, searching the brush with their bullets to keep the revueltosos from crawling up on them. It was hot work, slow work, laborious work, growing all the time more dangerous, for, following up in a wide circle, the revueltosos brought its ends around until, just before sundown, a shot fired directly from their rear informed Bull that their investure was complete.
It was not, however, for long. While Gordon threw bullets around the circle, checking its constriction, Bull crept through the sage till he sighted, at last, a light smoke puff issuing from a bush. He aimed into the middle of it and, following the crack of his rifle, a man leaped up, then fell forward.
So began again the retreats which continued while the lowering sun set the Tejon range on fire above a desert of lavender and purple. At dusk a huge, flat moon rose and hung like a polished shield on the horizon’s dark wall. Sailing on up, it flooded the desert with quiet radiance, supplying light for their tired feet. As they journeyed the dim mass of the range rose higher and higher till it blotted out the stars. Shortly thereafter they entered the Pass.
From its mouth a mule path wound up between high rocky walls, then fell, hours later, into a narrow valley, where they found a spring and pool, at which they refilled their water-bag. It was hard to leave. But after they had drunk and washed the dust from their faces Bull hoisted Lee on his shoulder again; with tireless strength carried her on up the trail to a plateau almost at the height of land that overlooked the valley. So tired was she Gordon had to keep her awake while she ate the dole of crackers and salt meat, the last of their provisions. Then, gathering her to him, he fell, with her, into dreamless sleep.