Ruth Fielding at Silver Ranch Part 9

"Cats?" cried Heavy. "Do you shoot cats?"

"Pumas," explained Jane Ann. "They're some nasty when they're re'l hungry."

"Oh, I don't want to see any more of the wildcat tribe," Ruth cried. "I had my fill of them last winter at Snow Camp."

Tom of course was to drive the buckboard in which his twin and Ruth rode; but the chums certainly would not have chosen Mary c.o.x for the fourth member of the party. However, The Fox usually knew what she wanted herself, and got it, too! She liked Master Tom and wished to ride beside him; and the instant she learned which pair of ponies he was to drive, she hopped into the front seat of that buckboard.

"I'm going to sit with you, Tom," she said, coolly. "I believe you've got the best ponies. And you can drive better than Bob, too."

Tom didn't look overjoyed, and Helen, seeing the expression of her twin's face, began to giggle. There was, however, no polite way of getting rid of The Fox.

In a few minutes they were off, Jib Pottoway heading the procession, and Ricardo, the Mexican, bringing up the rear with the mule cart.

"You keep a sharp eye on them younguns, Jib!" bawled Bill Hicks, coming to the door of the ranch-house in his stocking feet and with his hair touseled from his early morning souse in the trough behind the house.

"I'll hold you responsible if anything busts-now mind ye!"

"All right, Boss," returned the Indian stolidly. "I reckon nothin' won't bite 'em."

Driving off thirty miles into the wilderness was nothing in the opinion of these Westerners; but to the girls from Briarwood Hall, and their brothers, the trip promised all kinds of excitement. And they enjoyed every mile of the journey through the foothills. There was something new and strange (to the Easterners) to see almost every mile, and Jane Ann, or Jib, was right there to answer questions and explain the wonders.

At first they saw miles upon miles of range, over which fed the Silver Ranch herds. Heretofore Ruth and her friends had not realized the size of the ranch itself and what it meant to own fifty thousand cattle.

"Why!" exclaimed Heavy, with some awe. "Your uncle, Nita, is richer than Job-and the Bible says he was the greatest of all the men of the East!

He only owned seven thousand sheep and three thousand camels and a thousand oxen and five hundred she-a.s.ses. Why, I believe there are more creatures in that one herd yonder than poor old Job owned."

"I guess that was a pretty good herd for 'way down there in Arabia, and so long ago," returned Jane Ann. "But cattlemen have learned a lot since those times. I expect Uncle Bill has got more ponies than Job had mules."

"And the men who looked after Job's cattle were a whole lot different from those fellows," cried Helen, from the forward buckboard, pointing to a couple of well-mounted punchers spurring after a score of strays that had broken away from the main herd. "Dear me, how recklessly they ride!"

"But I guess that all cowboys have been reckless and brave," said Ruth, quickly. "Somehow, herding cattle on the open plains and hills seems to make for rugged character and courage. Think of King David, and lots of those Biblical characters. David was a cowboy, and went out and slew Goliath. And I expect any of these punchers we see around here wouldn't be afraid of a giant," she concluded.

"Huh!" snapped The Fox, who usually found something sharp to say in comment upon Ruth's speeches, "I guess these cowboys aren't any better than the usual run of men. _I_ think they're rather coa.r.s.e and ugly.

Look at this half Indian ahead of us."

"What do you mean-_him_?" exclaimed Tom Cameron, who was pretty well disgusted with The Fox and her sly and sneering ways. "Why, he's got a better education than most of the men you meet. He stood high at Carlisle, in his books as well as athletics. You wouldn't scoff at any other college-bred fellow-why at Jib?"

"Indian," said Mary c.o.x, with her nose in the air.

"His folks owned the country-the whole continent!" cried the excited Tom, "until white men drove them out. You'd consider an Englishman, or a German, or a Belgian, with his education, the equal of any American. And Jib's a true American at that."

"Well, I can't say that I ever could admire a savage," sniffed The Fox, tossing her head.

For the most part, however, the girls and their drivers had a very jolly time, and naturally there could not be much "bickering" even in the leading buckboard where The Fox rode, for Ruth was there, and Ruth was not one of the bickering kind. Helen was inclined to think that her chum was altogether too "tame"; she would not "stand up for herself" enough, and when The Fox said cutting things Ruth usually ignored her schoolfellow's ill-nature.

Tom was not entirely happy with The Fox on the seat beside him. He had hoped Ruth would occupy that place. When Mary spoke to him perhaps the young fellow was a bit cold. At least, before they came to the canon, through which flowed Rolling River, Master Tom had somehow managed to offend The Fox and her eyes snapped and she held her lips grimly shut.

The trail became narrow here and it rose steeply, too. The roaring river tumbled over the rocks on the left hand, while on the right the sheer cliff rose higher and higher. And while the ponies climbed the rather steep ascent Jib Pottoway spurred his horse ahead to see if the path was all clear to the place where the canon became a veritable tunnel under the "natural bridge."

"Go slow, Tom Cameron!" shouted the ranchman's niece from the second carriage. "There are bad places when we get to the upper level-very narrow places. And the river is a hundred feet below us there."

"She's trying to scare us," snapped The Fox. "I never saw such people!"

"I guess it will be best to take care," grunted Tom. "She's been here before, remember."

"Pah! you're afraid!"

"Perhaps I am," returned Tom. "I'm not going to take any chances with these half wild ponies-and you girls in the wagon."

In a minute more they were at the top of the rise. Jib had disappeared around a distant turn in the path, which here was straight and level for fully a mile. The m.u.f.fled roar of the river came up to them, and the abrupt cliff on the right cast its shadow clear across the canon. It was a rugged and gloomy place and Helen hid her eyes after glancing once down the steep descent to the river.

"Oh! drive on, Tommy!" she cried. "I don't want to look down there again. What a fearful drop it is! Hold the ponies tight, Tommy."

"Pshaw, you are making a great adieu about nothing," snapped Mary c.o.x.

"I'll have a care, Nell; don't you fear," a.s.sured her brother.

Ruth was as serious as her chum, and as she had a quick eye she noticed a strap hanging from the harness of one of the ponies and called Tom's attention to it.

"There's a strap unbuckled, Tom," she cried. "Do you see it hanging?"

"Good for you, Ruthie!" cried the boy, leaning out of his seat to glimpse the strap. "Here, Mary! hold these reins, please."

He put the reins into the hands of The Fox and hopped out. She laughed and slapped them across the ponies' backs and the beasts reared and snorted.

"Have a care what you're doing, Mary c.o.x!" shrieked Helen.

"Whoa!" cried her brother, and leaped to seize the nearest pony by the bit. But the half wild animals jerked away from him, dashing across the narrow trail.

"Pull up! pull up!" shouted Tom.

"Don't let them run!" cried Jane Ann Hicks, standing up in the carriage behind.

But in that single moment of recklessness the ponies became unmanageable-at least, unmanageable for The Fox. She pulled the left rein to bring them back into the trail, and off the creatures dashed, at headlong speed, along the narrow way. On the right was the unscalable wall of rock; on the left was the awful drop to the roaring river!

CHAPTER X-RUTH SHOWS HER METTLE

Shouting after the runaway, and shrieking advice to The Fox, who still clung to the reins, was of no particular use, and Tom Cameron realized that as well as did Jane Ann. The boy from the East picked himself up and leaped upon the rear of the second buckboard as it pa.s.sed him, and they tore on after the frightened ponies.

Mary c.o.x could not hold them. She was not a good horsewoman, in any case; and a moment after the ponies broke loose, she was just as frightened as ever she could be.

She did not drop the lines; that was because she did not think to do so.

She was frozen with terror. The ponies plunged along the narrow trail, weaving the buckboard from side to side, and Mary was helpless to stop them. On the rear seat Helen and Ruth clung together in the first shock of fear; the threatening catastrophe, too, appalled them.

But only for the first few seconds was Ruth inactive. Behind the jouncing vehicle Tom was shouting to them to "pull 'em down!" Ruth wrenched herself free from her chum's grasp and leaned forward over the seat-back.