CHAPTER L.

BY PYE POD.

Here, brother Sancho, we may dip our hands up to the elbows in what they call adventures. But take note, though thou seest me in the greatest danger on earth, thou must not set thy hand to thy sword to defend me, unless thou shouldst perceive that they who a.s.sail me are rabble and low people, in which case thou canst come to my aid.--_Don Quixote._

It was early evening, October 5, at Green's ranch. The somber quiet of the place seemed to indicate a deserted estate, but a dim light in the window invited me to knock. At once I heard feet shuffle across the floor, and a bolt slide in the door.

"Who be you?" called a woman, distinctly.

I introduced myself through the key-hole and was admitted. Mrs.

Green extended me a left-handed greeting while holding a sixshooter in her right hand. It was a most interesting reception.

"What are you going to do with that?" I inquired, smiling. The idea that a frontier woman should be so easily frightened seemed ridiculous.

"Haven't you heard?" she returned. "Why, the whole country is up in arms looking for two desperate outlaws. They shot a sheep-herder last night in Telegraph Canyon, and after robbing the fellow of four dollars, left him for dead. Mr. Green went to Egan Canyon this afternoon for the mail, and hasn't returned. He ought to be back by now. It is only three miles away." Here the somewhat perturbed woman glanced at the clock, which indicated 8:00.

I conversed with Mrs. Green a few moments, and she invited us men to supper and told me to feed my animals from the hay-stack. I said we were well provided with food and fire-arms, that she might feel quite safe from the brigands. Now c.o.o.nskin called for me and said our evening meal was under way. So, I bade Mrs. Green a good night.

c.o.o.nskin, whose chief literary diet had been dime novels, listened to the news with rapt attention, and suggested that I cook while he prepared camp for a sudden attack.

"Gee! Wouldn't I like to capture 'em, though!" he said enthusiastically.

"I would like to see you try it," I returned; "you have been 'spoiling' for a sc.r.a.p with an Indian, or a desperado, or some wild beast ever since we crossed the borders, and I shouldn't wonder if this were your opportunity. Something tells me that we'll meet these outlaws."

Supper over and dishes washed, we retired. Our bed, only separated from the earth by a single canvas, never was more comfortable. The night was cool and a gentle breeze was blowing, but there was no sound, save the braying of the donks. Suddenly I heard Don, who was on guard, growl, then a sound of wheels and a horse's whinny.

"Will your dog bite, Mr. Pod?" called Mr. Green.

I rushed out barefoot and dispelled his fears, and, after shaking hands, questioned him how he knew who I was.

"Oh," he chuckled, "anybody would know you by your outfit; besides, everybody along the trail has been expecting you, even two desperadoes."

This was interesting. But I explained that his wife had told me all, whereupon he invited us men to breakfast, and was escorted by Don to a point which he considered the limit of his master's domain.

While at breakfast I learned that the Salt Lake newspapers, containing ill.u.s.trated accounts of my prosperity, had subscribers all along the trail; that the shooting at Telegraph Canyon was the first in that section for sixteen years; that no pay-boxes were expected at the Egan mill, where a half dozen men were working; and that, what was of more importance than the rest, it was the prevailing opinion that Pye Pod was the man the outlaws were laying for.

"Griswold is the unfortunate man's name," said Green. "The outlaws pretended to be friendly, lunched with him, and started off on their horses. But Griswold had no sooner turned his back than the strangers ordered him to throw up his hands. They took all his funds, shot him, and galloped away with his good horses, leaving their jaded ones. The poor fellow regained consciousness, and managed by morning to crawl six miles to a ranch. Resolute men hurriedly saddled their horses, and soon thirty were after the outlaws. I hear Griswold is with them, he having recovered. But they say at Egan that some of the boys this afternoon gave up the chase, because it was getting too warm for them; they felt pretty near the game."

Mr. Green gave me a second-handed description of the desperadoes and their outfit, and directing me on my route, wished us G.o.dspeed.

I felt that my route forced me to overtake rather than to meet by chance two men who set but little value on other men's lives, and even less on their own; therefore having everything to gain and nothing to lose, they put up the best kind of a fight.

We soon arrived at Egan, where we were kindly received. The men showed us about the works, allowing me to take photographs, and gave me a more accurate description of the outlaws, and the long trail of a hundred miles to Eureka. At three points only should we find water, at Nine Mile Spring, Thirty Mile and Pinto Creek, the latter being seventy miles away. No habitation would we see; only an occasional coyote, or a band of wild horses, or possibly some prairie schooner, or the outlaws, or some of the posses.

By trailing through Egan Canyon we cut the backbone of the mountain range and now, at an alt.i.tude of several hundred feet above the plain, were climbing higher and higher the rugged plateau, until we reached Nine Mile, and unpacked. The spring was in a gra.s.sy spot, and c.o.o.nskin first replenished our canteens, then released the donkeys.

It was noon. Accustomed as we were to travel on two meals a day, I could set no regular hour for them. It was twenty-one miles to Thirty Mile Spring. So we cooked here.

The desperadoes formed the chief topic of discussion, even Don showed the bloodhound in him, and, ever since leaving Egan, showed unusual excitement and was more vigilant. We must have crossed the tracks of the outlaws, or were following them unwittingly. Taking everything into consideration, we were in a fair mood to be startled when the dog sprang to his feet, and growled. Then three men, heavily armed, galloped up and dismounted. I was relieved when I saw one of the riders wearing a bandage round his head; it must be Griswold.

The strangers left their steeds standing, each tying a rein to a stirrup, then introduced themselves. We had just finished lunch and were smoking when the posse arrived; but now c.o.o.nskin cooked for our friends, while I did all the honors and gleaned all the information essential to our interests. They were affable fellows and resolute, but had set out hardly equipped for the chase. One picked up a two-quart canteen, saying good-naturedly that he reckoned he would have to rustle it. I said they were welcome to anything I could spare.

Before separating on our several missions, c.o.o.nskin photographed the party, and Griswold repeated his description of the outlaws.

Couriers had been dispatched to Ely, Hamilton, Eureka, and other points; these men were bound for Hunter, seven miles over the mesa. Before leaving they asked me if I would blaze a sage-brush fire that night should I reach Thirty Mile and discover any evidence of the bandits. They also admonished me to hold up and shoot without considering an instant any two mounted men of the description given, else we two would never live to tell how it happened.

With this parting injunction, unofficial though it was, the riders loped away, and my nervous troop, at half-past two, "hit the trail" in lively form. I was glad the country was clear and open.

Only an occasional dwarf cedar stood in dark relief against the sage. About midnight the grade began perceptibly to grow steeper, and in consequence of the clouds which had gathered the darkness was dense. I felt we must be near to Thirty Mile. The idea of pa.s.sing the spring and having to trace our steps next morning was not to be entertained. Seeing a bunch of cedars some distance to the right, I headed for them. And there we camped. Behind the screen of three small trees and the darkness we spread our blankets, lunched on bread and cold meat, and went to sleep. The donkeys were picketed still another hundred yards back, so as not to be seen from the trail; we did not light a fire.

By ten o'clock next morning we had breakfasted, and were trailing toward the summit of the plateau. Three miles further on was Thirty Mile. Here again I unpacked the animals for an hour's grazing on the gra.s.s by the spring.

The noon hour found us weary travelers reclining on a heap of blankets. To the east, some fifty feet away, stood a tub, obscured by p.u.s.s.y willows, and br.i.m.m.i.n.g with cool water furnished by a cedar trough which reached from the bubbling spring. The overflow streamed down a tiny gorge in the hard soil, under cover of the willows, and finally sank in the earth.

"I'm afraid the fellows ain't going to bother us after all," said c.o.o.nskin disappointedly, at length. "I'd give a farm to get a whack at them."

He had no sooner uttered the words than he turned pale, and I turned to behold two small moving dots on the horizon, some two miles down the trail. "Jove!" he added, "I believe the outlaws are coming."

Indeed, I could make out two men, mounted on a dark and a light-colored horse respectively, slowly approaching. a.s.signing to my valet the shot-gun and the Smith & Wesson double-action revolver, I loaded two extra sh.e.l.ls with buckshot, tested the locks of my Winchester and single-action Colt revolver, gave c.o.o.nskin explicit instructions, and awaited events.

When the strange riders rode to within a half mile of us they stopped and dismounted. It was plain they were cinching their saddles, probably preparing to do some rough riding. The dark horse appeared to be somewhat darker than the one described by Griswold, but I was cautioned that they might exchange a horse for one on the range in order to mislead their pursuers. They and their outfit in all other respects tallied with the description given to me.

My companion in arms, who of late had evinced such courage, now showed signs of weakening. He protested that it would be better not to attempt to hold up the fellows until we were sure we were right, and when I said that I proposed to get the drop on them the first opportunity offered, and to shoot if necessary, and should count on him to aid me, he was speechless. Don seemed to understand, and stationing himself some ten feet before us, watched the strangers eagerly. I a.s.sured c.o.o.nskin that if our dog allowed those hors.e.m.e.n to enter camp, we could rest easy, but if, when I hailed them, Don uttered a protest, we could mark them as the outlaws. "Don't let them corral us," I cautioned; "if they get us between them, the game is up."

Those were anxious moments for me, as well as for the young man who was ten years my junior. I was seated on our packs, my Winchester lying across my knees, c.o.c.ked; c.o.o.nskin sat on the ground at my right, with shot-gun in hand. Our revolvers were in our belts. Our bearded and sun-burned faces, long hair, and generally rough attire, added to our unfriendly att.i.tude, must have puzzled the approaching hors.e.m.e.n. When they had come to a hundred feet from us, I called roughly, "h.e.l.loa, boys! come in.

You're just in time for grub."

Instantly Don leaped to his feet, and with tail straight out and body trembling from rage he uttered a savage growl of defiance. He identified the desperadoes.

Instantly reining their steeds, one of them slung some simple questions at me, designed, no doubt, to throw us off guard.

"Purty nice lot of burros you've got," he began.

"Pretty fair," I replied disinterestedly.

"Which way you traveling?"

"West. Where 're you bound?" I inquired.

"Just lookin' round. Which is the trail to Hamilton?"

I did not answer. Then the man asked: "How far is it?"

"I don't know, and I don't care a d----," I answered coa.r.s.ely, with bravado, as if I considered it wasting time to talk.

The smiling outlaw now looked grave, and turning to his comrade asked, loud enough for me to hear: "Shall we go in and cook?"

"No, better water our horses and go on," said the partner.