The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek Part 21

"They'll never get him out,' said d.i.c.k.

"Have to pull his poor head off if they do," agreed Bud.

And this was so evident that the Mexican sheep herders soon gave up the attempt. They dared not even go close enough to the horse to release their ropes, but, casting them off from their saddle horns, had to see them sink down in the quicksands with the poor beast.

For this is what happened. The unfortunate animal, unable to extricate himself from the terrible grip of the sands, being too firmly held to permit of being dragged out, sank lower and lower. The water came half way up his sides. It closed over his back, but still his head was free.

With all his power the brute struggled, but with four legs gripped he could do little more than shudder convulsively. Then as the waters came closer and closer to his head, caused by the fact that the horse was sinking lower and lower in the soft sand, the beast gave a terrible cry--terrible in its agony.

A moment later it was gone from sight forever.

A hush fell upon the a.s.semblage of cowboys in front of the Spur Creek fort of Diamond X ranch. And a hush, no less, came over the bunch of Mexican sheep herders on the far side of the stream. But that the man could leap off and swim to sh.o.r.e, aided by his companion's lariat, the fate of the horse in the quicksands might have been his fate.

"What's going on?" asked a voice behind Bud and d.i.c.k.

They turned quickly to behold Nort, who had ridden back from the ranch headquarters.

"What you all looking at?" he asked, for the cowboys were gazing silently at the spot in the stream where the tragedy had just taken place.

They informed Nort in a few words.

"Well," he remarked, "that's the best protection we could have against the sheep coming over--quicksands in the creek."

"The only trouble is," said d.i.c.k slowly, "that the quicksands are only in certain places. They can cross safely elsewhere."

"The point is, though," observed Bud, "that they can only guess at those places. And, not knowing where they are, may make them stay away altogether."

"I hope so, but I don't believe it," remarked Snake. "You'll see they won't give up so easily."

Nor did the sheep herders thus forego an attempt to graze their flocks on the rich pasture claimed by Mr. Merkel. It was too late that day to attempt anything more. Night settled down, but with an augmented force of cowboys at the fort the boy ranchers were not apprehensive.

Tours of duty were arranged, so that two or more cowboys would be on guard all night. However, the hours of darkness pa.s.sed with no further activity on the part of the Mexicans.

In the morning, however, the forces from Diamond X ranch observed strange actions on the part of their enemies.

"What in the world are they up to?" asked Nort, as he and his brother and cousin looked across the river.

Well might he ask that.

CHAPTER XVII

"WE CROWED TOO SOON!"

Not only the boy ranchers, but their more experienced cowboy companions were puzzled by the actions of the sheep herders. It was the period after the morning meal, the smoke of which fires was still rising toward the sky. The sheep men appeared to have slept in the open, with nothing more than their blankets for a bed and their saddles for pillows. But they were accustomed to this, and so were our friends, though they were glad of the fairly comfortable bunk house, or "fort,"

as they dubbed it.

But all interest was centered in what the Greasers were doing. Some of them separated themselves from the sheep, which really did not require much more attention than that given them by some intelligent dogs, and a bunch of the hated and despised men were approaching the river, carrying long poles.

"What do you reckon they're going to do?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Make a raft, maybe," answered Nort. "Though how they can float a lot of sheep over on a raft made of a few bean poles is more than I can understand."

"It would take them a month or more to float the sheep over, one at a time, on a bunch of poles," objected Bud.

"That isn't what they're going to do," declared d.i.c.k, after closely watching the actions of the Mexicans. "They're going to leave, that's what they're planning."

"Leave? What do you mean; go away?" asked his brother.

"That's it--yes. They're going to make those dinguses the Indians use trailing after their horses--a pole fastened to either side of the animal, and the ends dragging on the ground. Between the poles they carry their duffle."

"Nonsense!" laughed Bud. "In the first place these aren't Indians, though they're as bad, I reckon. But they didn't come with those pole trailers; so why would they make 'em to go away with? All they own they can pack in their hats."

"I guess you're right," admitted d.i.c.k, after thinking it over. "But they're going to do something."

They were all watching the Mexicans now. The men with long poles--which they must have brought with them as none grew in the vicinity--now closely approached the edge of the creek. They could not be going to make a raft--the nature of the poles precluded that.

Then, as one after another of the sheep herders thrust the end of his pole into the water, wading out a short distance to do this, Bud uttered an exclamation.

"I have it!" the lad cried.

"You mean you're on to the game?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Yes."

"What is it?" cried the two brothers.

"They're feeling around to find the places where the quicksands are,"

announced Bud.

"You mean so they can jump in and get rid of themselves?" grimly asked Snake Purdee.

"I mean so they can tell where _not_ to cross," said Bud, though this was unnecessary, since they all grasped his meaning when he spoke of the quicksands.

"I guess you're right, son," observed Old Billee, who had come back to the fort with the return of the cowboys. "They're looking for safe fords and I shouldn't wonder but what they'd find 'em."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," said a tall lank cowboy.

"What do you mean?" Billee wanted to know.

"Wa'al, they may find the places where it's safe to cross--I ain't sayin' but what they is sich places," went on "Lanky," as he was called, "I know this creek putty well, an' I've crossed it more'n once, swimmin' a hoss over an' sometimes drivin' cattle. But th' trouble is sometimes when you find a safe place it doesn't stay safe very long."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Bud, who thought it his duty to learn all he could about matters connected with his father's ranch.

"I reckon he means the quicksands shift--is that it, Lanky?" asked Billee Dobb.

"That's it--yep! A place that may be safe to cross to-night may be the most dangerous in the mornin', or even in less time."