The Last Straw Part 49

"I am terribly hurt but in a way it is of my own doing. I have just one thing to request: Ask the Reverend how d.i.c.k Hilton came to be here."

But she had no one to send with it and Beck would be back on the morrow with the men to move the thirst tortured cattle. Besides, there must be another way than the despatch of such a message. That was too cold and formal. It would bring him humbly to her but she knew how he would suffer when his pride was hurt; and such a thing would do no less than hurt his pride. She would make it as easy as possible.

A let-down came and she cried and when she slept that night her dreams were not distressing.

CHAPTER XXII

THE REVEREND'S STRATEGY

Throughout the day the sun beat into the canon, its heat relieved by rare breezes of brief duration. What wind did come raised swirls of dust and rustled wilted foliage, for the country had become ash dry.

The cattle, most of them on their fourth waterless day, bawled dismally, a thirsty chorus rising as the day aged. They did not eat; they wandered rapidly about seeking moisture. Those spots of the creek bed which showed damp above and below Cole's fence were tramped to powder by uneasy hoofs and a narrow area outside the fence was cut to fluff by the restless wanderings of the suffering steers.

As afternoon came on they abandoned their futile search for unguarded drink and clung closer to the wire barrier, snuffing loudly as their nostrils drank in the smell of water as greedily as their throats would have swallowed the fluid itself. Their eyes became wider, wilder, and the bawling was without cessation. Flanks pumped the hot air into their bodies in rapid tempo and slaver hung from loose chops. The herd was in desperate condition.

Now and then a big beefer would rush the fence as if to tear his way through but the new wire and solid posts always flung them back. Again, another would push his head tentatively between the strands and attempt entrance by gentler methods, but always they were driven back either by one of the HC riders or by Cole himself.

By the time the sun was half way to the horizon the steers were moving in a compact ma.s.s back and forth along the fence, snuffing, crying, sobbing in dry throats, bodies growing more gaunt hourly as frenzy added its toll to physical suffering.

The bawling became a din. Big steers shook their heads and hooked at one another groggily. The first one went down and could not rise alone; the men "tailed" him up and worked him to shade, where he sank to his side again, panting, drooling and silent.

"d.a.m.n an outfit like that!" growled Curtis, looking across the bunch to Cole, who stood staring back.

"There's goin' to be h.e.l.l a-poppin' here," commented one of the men.

"They're waitin' for trouble an' you can't prevent 'em havin' it--"

"Look at that!"

A half dozen steers, surging against the fence, put their combined weight on a panel and the post gave with a snap.

Bobby ran forward, brandishing a club, and drove them back as they floundered in the sagging wire, heedless of barbs, eyes protruding with want of the drink that dilated nostrils told them was near.

After he had propped the post up again the nester shook his fist at Curtis and shouted:

"I'll protect my property! You can protect yourn if you will. Th' next critter that breaks my fence gits lead in his carca.s.s!"

He slouched back to the cabin and came out a moment later with a rifle.

Seating himself on a stump he crossed his knees and with the weapon across his lap sat waiting.

"We'll bunch 'em so we can make a show at holdin' 'em tonight," Curtis said. "That'll save time in th' mornin' ... an' we'll need all our time."

Forthwith he and the others began gathering the suffering stragglers in a loose bunch.

The Reverend came riding across the flat before this was completed. His face was serious and as he came close to the herd and saw the condition of the cattle he shook his head apprehensively.

"I fear, brother, that by another day there'll be little strength in those bodies to get 'em up to open water," he said to Curtis.

"It'll be the devil's own job for sure! It'll take twenty men to move 'em and if we don't lose half we'll be lucky.

"If that old cuss 'uld let 'em water once it'd be a cinch, but he's a bad _hombre_; he won't. There's something back of this, Reverend."

Beal scratched his chin and blinked and looked across to where Cole sat. One of his Mexicans also was armed and had taken up his position further down the fence.

"So it would appear," he replied. "As Joshua said to Moses, 'There's a noise of war in the camp.'

"I see a relationship between the smiting of my beloved brother and the refusal of this outfit to grant water.

"Oh, another watcher!"

He indicated Pat Webb who evidently had gained the Cole ranch by a circuitous route and had taken up his position within the fence, armed with a rifle.

Night came on with a dry wind in the trees on the heights. Its draft did not reach the Hole but the sound did and that uneasy, distant roar served to intensify the distress of the cattle.

Beds were made on a knoll not far from the bunched steers and the Reverend was the first to rest, while the others, singing, whistling, slapping chaps with quirts rode round and round the herd keeping them away from the fence to give the riflemen no opportunity to shoot.

Azariah did not sleep but rolled uneasily on his tarp watching the bright, dry stars, muttering to himself now and then.

Once he got up and fussed about his blankets and Curtis, riding by, stopped.

"No, I can't rest," the Reverend replied to his query. "I believe I have lost one pen....

"By the way, brother, if these were your cattle how many head would you give just to get them to water tonight?"

"I'd give several," Curtis answered bitterly. "Yes, I'd give a good many and look at it as a good investment. Without water we're goin' to make lots of feed for buzzards an' coyotes, tryin' to make up that trail tomorrow!"

"A good many.... A good many," the clergyman muttered as Curtis rode on. "She is for peace, but when she speaks, they are for war," he paraphrased the Psalm.

"'They that war against thee shall be as nothing.'... An investment ...

a good investment...."

He sat hunched on his bed for some time, whispering over and over....

"A good investment ... investment...."

Then suddenly he rose and pawed about him for a dried bough of cedar which he had cast aside to make his bed. With trembling fingers he sought a match, struck and applied it.

The flame licked up the tinder and burst into a brilliant torch. The bawling of the cattle cut off sharply. Whites of terrified eyes showed for an instant and then vanished as heads were quickly turned away.

The herd stirred, like a concentrated ma.s.s, body crowding body; it swayed forward, a rumbling of hoofs arose. And from the far side came the shrill yipping of hors.e.m.e.n as they broke into a gallop and sought to set the cattle milling.

Futile effort! Driven mad by thirst it would have required a much less conspicuous disturbance than that flare of fire to start the wild rush.

With a roll of hoofs, a sickening, overwhelming sound, heads down, crowded together into a knitted body of frightened strength the bunch was in full stampede!

Down the far side rode Curtis, high in his stirrups, his revolver spitting fire into the air. A big white steer charged straight at his horse like a blinded thing and the animal carried his rider to momentary safety with a hand's breath to spare.