Midnight

by Rutherford G. Montgomery

The pace Midnight had set in driving the mares into the high barrens had taxed their strength. They had finally refused to go any further and he had let them pause to feed and rest. But he was nervous and kept moving about, jerking his head high, sniffing and snorting. The excitement of the battle on the mesa below was still in him. He lacked the experience of the chestnut stallion and he did not know the country into which he was headed. Instinct had made him strike for the barrens, but he did not know where to go now that he had reached the rough country. So he let the mares feed while he moved about pulling a mouthful of grass here and there. The pinto stayed close by him as though sure he would protect her from all danger.

Midnight fed above the mares and close to the narrow trail leading up to a saddle on the ridge above. The meadow was really a bench with a rock wall on one side and a slope on the other. It lay along the edge of a deep canyon but it was not a trap as the little meadow had been; it was wide open at both ends and timber grew close, affording shelter which could be reached in a few seconds. Midnight watched the trail above and the meadow below, he tested the air, and he listened.

Suddenly he stiffened, his nostrils flaring as he listened intently. The sound of a loosened stone had come to him. The pinto sensed something and edged close to his side. Midnight snorted warningly and the mares instantly lifted their heads, ready to leap to cover.

Then Midnight saw a rider come charging out of the timber above him. The man was mounted on a bay gelding and he was standing up in his stirrups whirling a rope around his head. The bay was reaching out with powerful strides which carried him over the rough ground at terrific speed. Midnight shrilled a warning to the mares. The pinto froze into terrified stillness. She did not run but stood rooted beside Midnight, staring at the oncoming rider. Midnight expected the roar of guns but no explosions came. He was sure other men were hidden below to cut off any retreat. But he was on the wrong side of the band of mares to drive them upward. He did what the charging cowboy least expected, something the chestnut stallion never would have done. He laid back his ears, bared his teeth and charged straight at the bay, screaming his challenge as he leaped forward.

Tex was startled by the action. He gave the bay his head so the big horse could save himself. The bay swerved, dodging aside as he would have dodged the charge of an infuriated bull. The loop Tex was swinging sagged and jerked into a useless snarl as the bay lunged aside. Midnight plunged in and reared, lashing out with his hoofs, reached for the bay with his teeth. His pounding hoofs missed the saddler but his teeth nipped a gash in the horse’s flank. The bay was a high-spirited, nervous beast. He plunged and ducked his head. Grunting and snorting he started to pitch. Tex had to ride as he had never ridden before to control his mount. He saw Midnight whirl past, then wheel to charge again—the black stallion had gone stark mad. His hand dropped to the butt of his forty-five. He might have to shoot the big fellow to save himself. He jerked out his gun and fired twice into the air over Midnight’s head.

The crashing reports jarred some of the rage out of the black stallion. He pivoted rapidly. In that moment Tex got the bay under control and jerked in his rope. The shot had helped quiet the saddler. With the pinto at his side Midnight broke for the trail leading upward.

Tex set his spurs and sent the bay thundering after the black stallion. This was just what he wanted. He worked desperately to swing out a loop. The black had a hundred yards of go in the open the way he was headed. With the big colt running away Tex could drop a rope on him and pull him down. He raised himself in the stirrups and swung out his loop. Then Tex’s eager grin vanished. The black stallion was running away from his bay! He was leaving the fast saddler behind in a way that made the saddler seem slow. Tex overhauled the pinto and passed her. She was running her best, with neck stretched out and mane flowing, heading upward in an attempt to follow the black.

Tex held on until the black stallion thundered out into the saddle above and vanished down the far slope. He had not used his spurs on the bay. He knew his horse had given everything he had. On the ridge Tex pulled up while the bay blew and pawed. Suddenly Tex laughed. He had never seen such speed. Now he was certain he had to capture the big fellow. He just couldn’t have a horse on the range that was faster than the one he owned. Then his laugh died away. He had a more important reason for catching the black; in the excitement he had forgotten it.

Midnight charged through the timber and kept going until he reached the bottom of a canyon. He halted in a dense growth of river alder and called long and loud to the pinto. From far up the mountainside she answered him. Her call was frantic and excited. Midnight listened and heard a shout from the man who had chased him. He kept still for a long time. Finally he called to the pinto again and she answered him from lower down the slope. She was hurrying to him as fast as she could make her way down the rough slope. Midnight waited and listened. After a time he decided the bay and his rider were not coming down into the canyon. He could hear the pinto rattling stones and nickering eagerly but there was no other sound.