The Untamed - Max Brand
"Hold on," said Buck. "Are you goin' to spoil all the work I done
today with that girl?"
"What's the matter?" asked Silent.
"Everything's the matter! Are you goin' to put a man she hates out
there watchin' her."
"Damn you, Daniels," said Haines fiercely, "you're rolling up a long
account, but it only takes a bullet to collect that sort of a bill!"
"If it hadn't been for Haines, would the girl's father be here?" asked
Buck. "Besides, she don't like blonds."
"What type does she like?" asked Silent, enjoying the quarrel between
his lieutenant and the recruit.
"Likes 'em with dark hair an' eyes," said Buck calmly. "Look at me,
for instance!"
Even Haines smiled, though his lips were white with anger.
"D'you want to stand guard over her yourself?" said the chief.
"Sure," grinned Buck, "maybe she'd come out an' pass the time o' night
with me."
"Go ahead and take the job," nodded Silent. "I got an idea maybe she
will."
"Silent," warned Haines, "hasn't it occurred to you that there's
something damned queer about the ease with which Buck slid into the
favour of the girl?"
"Well?"
"All his talk about manhandling her is bunk. He had some message for
her. I saw him speak to her when she was struggling in his arms. Then
she conveniently fainted."
Silent turned on Buck.
"Is that straight?"
"It is," said Daniels easily.
The outlaws started and their expectant grins died out.
"By God, Buck!" roared Silent, "if you're double crossin' me--but I
ain't goin' to be hasty now. What happened? Tell it yourself! What did
you say to her?"
"While she was fightin' with me," said Buck, "she hollered: 'Let me
go!' I says: 'I'll see you in hell first!' Then she fainted."
The roar of laughter drowned Haines's further protest.
"You win, Buck," said Silent. "Take the job."
As Buck started for the door Haines called to him:
"Hold on, Buck, if you're aboveboard you won't mind giving your word
to see that no one comes up the valley and that you'll be here in the
morning?"
The words set a swirling blackness before Buck's eyes. He turned
slowly.
"That's reasonable," said Silent. "Speak up, Daniels."
"All right," said Buck, his voice very low. "I'll be here in the
morning, and I'll see that no one comes up the valley."
There was the slightest possible emphasis on the word "up."
On a rock directly in front of the shanty Buck took up his watch. The
little house behind him was black. Presently he heard the soft call of
Kate: "Is it time?"
His eyes wandered to the ranch house. He could catch the drone of many
voices. He made no reply.
"Is it time?" she repeated.
Still he would not venture a reply, however guarded. She called a
third time, and when he made no response he heard her voice break to
a moan of hopelessness. And yet he waited, waited, until the light in
the ranch house went out, and there was not a sound.
"Kate!" he said, gauging his voice carefully so that it could not
possibly travel to the ranch house, which all the while he carefully
scanned.
For answer the front door of the shanty squeaked.
"Back!" he called. "Go back!"
The door squeaked again.
"They're asleep in the ranch house," she said. "Aren't we safe?"
"S--sh!" he warned. "Talk low! They aren't all asleep. There's one in
the ranch house who'll never take his eyes off me till morning."
"What can we do?"
"Go out the back way. You won't be seen if you're careful. Haines has
his eyes on me, not you. Go for the stable. Saddle your horses. Then
lead them out and take the path on the other side of the house. Don't
mount them until you're far below the house. Go slow all the way.
Sounds travel far up this canyon."
"Aren't you coming with us?"
"No."
"But when they find us gone?"
"Think of Dan--not me!"
"God be merciful to you!"
In a moment the back door of the shanty creaked. They must be opening
it by inches. When it was wide they would run for the stable. He
wished now that he had warned Kate to walk, for a slow moving object
catches the eye more seldom than one which travels fast. If Lee Haines
was watching at that moment his attention must be held to Buck for one
all important minute. He stood up, rolled a cigarette swiftly, and
lighted it. The spurt and flare of the match would hold even the most
suspicious eye for a short time, and in those few seconds Kate and her
father might pass out of view behind the stable.
He sat down again. A muffled sneeze came from the ranch house and Buck
felt his blood run cold. The forgotten cigarette between his fingers
burned to a dull red and then went out. In the stable a horse stamped.
He leaned back, locked his hands idly behind his head, and commenced
to whistle. Now there was a snort, as of a horse when it leaves the
shelter of a barn and takes the first breath of open air.
All these sounds were faint, but to Buck, straining his ears in an
agony of suspense, each one came like the blast of a trumpet. Next
there was a click like that of iron striking against rock. Evidently
they were leading the horses around on the far side of the house.
With a trembling hand he relighted his cigarette and waited, waited,
waited. Then he saw them pass below the house! They were dimly
stalking figures in the night, but to Buck it seemed as though they
walked in the blaze of ten thousand searchlights. He held his breath
in expectancy of that mocking laugh from the house--that sharp command
to halt--that crack of the revolver.
Yet nothing happened. Now he caught the click of the horses' iron
shoes against the rocks farther and farther down the valley. Still no
sound from the ranch house. They were safe!
It was then that the great temptation seized on Buck.
It would be simple enough for him to break away. He could walk to the
stable, saddle his horse, and tear past the ranch house as fast as his
pony could gallop. By the time the outlaws were ready for the pursuit,
he would be a mile or more away, and in the hills such a handicap was
enough. One thing held him. It was frail and subtle like the invisible
net of the enchanter--that word he had passed to Jim Silent, to see
that nothing came up the valley and to appear in the ranch house at
sunrise.
In the midst of his struggle, strangely enough, he began to whistle
the music he had learned from Dan Barry, the song of The Untamed,
those who hunt for ever, and are for ever hunted. When his whistling
died away he touched his hand to his lips where Kate had kissed him,
and then smiled. The sun pushed up over the eastern hills.
When he entered the ranch house the big room was a scene of much arm
stretching and yawning as the outlaws dressed. Lee Haines was already
dressed. Buck smiled ironically.
"I say, Lee," he said, "you look sort of used up this mornin', eh?"
The long rider scowled.
"I'd make a guess you've not had much sleep, Haines," went on Buck.
"Your eyes is sort of hollow."
"Not as hollow as your damned lying heart!"
"Drop that!" commanded Silent. "You hold a grudge like a woman, Lee!
How was the watch, Buck? Are you all in?"
"Nothin' come up the valley, an' here I am at sunrise," said Buck. "I
reckon that speaks for itself."
"It sure does," said Silent, "but the gal and her father are kind of
slow this mornin'. The old man generally has a fire goin' before dawn
is fairly come. There ain't no sign of smoke now."
"Maybe he's sleepin' late after the excitement of yesterday," said
Bill Kilduff. "You must of thrown some sensation into the family,
Buck."
The eyes of Haines had not moved from the face of Buck.
"I think I'll go over and see what's keeping them so late in bed," he
said, and left the house.
"He takes it pretty hard," said Jordan, his scarred face twisted with
Satanic mirth, "but don't go rubbin' it into him, Buck, or you'll be
havin' a man-sized fight on your hands. I'd jest about as soon mix
with the chief as cross Haines. When he starts the undertaker does the
finishin'!"
"Thanks for remindin' me," said Buck drily. Through the window he saw
Haines throw open the door of the shanty.
The outcry which Buck expected did not follow. For a long moment the
long rider stood there without moving. Then he turned and walked
slowly back to the house, his head bent, his forehead gathered in a
puzzled frown.
"What's the matter, Lee?" called Silent as his lieutenant entered the
room again. "You look sort of sick. Didn't she have a bright mornin'
smile for you?"
Haines raised his head slowly. The frown was not yet gone.
"They aren't there," he announced.
His eyes shifted to Buck. Everyone followed his example, Silent
cursing softly.
"As a joker, Lee," said Buck coldly, "you're some Little Eva. I s'pose
they jest nacherally evaporated durin' the night, maybe?"
"Haines," said Silent sharply, "are you serious?"
The latter nodded.
"Then by God, Buck, you'll have to say a lot in a few words. Lee, you
suspected him all the time, but I was a fool!"
Daniels felt the colour leaving his face, but help came from the
quarter from which he least expected it.
"Jim, don't draw!" cried Haines.
The eyes of the chief glittered like the hawk's who sees the field
mouse scurrying over the ground far below.
"He ain't your meat, Lee," he said. "It's me he's double crossed."
"Chief," said Haines, "last night while he watched the shanty, I
watched _him!_"
"Well?"
"I saw him keep his post in front of the cabin all night without
moving. And he was wide awake all the time."
"Then how in hell--"
"The back door of the cabin!" said Kilduff suddenly.
"By God, that's it! They sneaked out there and then went down on the
other side of the house."
"If I had let them go," interposed Buck, "do you suppose I'd be here?"
The keen glance of Silent moved from Buck to Haines, and then back
again. He turned his back on them.
The quiet which had fallen on the room was now broken by the usual
clatter of voices, cursing, and laughter. In the midst of it Haines
stepped close to Buck and spoke in a guarded voice.
"Buck," he said, "I don't know how you did it, but I have an idea--"
"Did what?"
The eyes of Haines were sad.
"I was a clean man, once," he said quietly, "and you've done a clean
man's work!"
He put out his hand and that of Buck's advanced slowly to meet it.
"Was it for Dan or Kate that you did it?"
The glance of Buck roamed far away.
"I dunno," he said softly. "I think it was to save my own rotten
soul!"
On the other side of the room Silent beckoned to Purvis.
"What is it?" asked Hal, coming close.
"Speak low," said Silent. "I'm talking to you, not to the crowd.
I think Buck is crooked as hell. I want you to ride down to the
neighbourhood of his house. Scout around it day and night. You may see
something worth while."
Meanwhile, in that utter blackness which precedes the dawn, Kate and
her father reached the mouth of the canyon.
"Kate," said old Joe in a tremulous voice, "if I was a prayin' man I'd
git down on my knees an' thank God for deliverin' you tonight."
"Thank Buck Daniels, who's left his life in pawn for us. I'll go
straight for Buck's house. You must ride to Sheriff Morris and tell
him that an honest man is up there in the power of Silent's gang."
"But--" he began.
She waved her hand to him, and spurring her horse to a furious gallop
raced off into the night. Her father stared after her for a few
moments, but then, as she had advised, rode for Gus Morris.
CHAPTER XXXII
THOSE WHO SEE IN THE DARK
It was still early morning when Kate swung from her horse before the
house of Buck Daniels. Instinct seemed to lead her to the sick-room,
and when she reached it she paid not the slightest attention to the
old man and his wife, who sat nodding beside the bed. They started up
when they heard the challenging growl of Black Bart, which relapsed
into an eager whine of welcome as he recognized Kate.
She saw nothing but the drawn white face of Dan and his blue pencilled
eyelids. She ran to him. Old Sam, hardly awake, reached out to stop
her. His wife held him back.
"It's Delilah!" she whispered. "I seen her face!"
Kate was murmuring soft, formless sounds which made the old man and
his wife look to each other with awe. They retreated towards the door
as if they had been found intruding where they had no right.
They saw the fever-bright eyes of Dan open. They heard him murmur
petulantly, his glance wandering. Her hand passed across his forehead,
and then her touch lingered on the bandage which surrounded his left
shoulder. She cried out at that, and Dan's glance checked in its
wandering and fixed upon the face which leaned above him. They saw his
eyes brighten, widen, and a frown gradually contract his forehead.
Then his hand went up slowly and found hers.
He whispered something.
"What did he say?" murmured Sam.
"I dunno," she answered. "I think it was 'Delilah!' See her shrink!"
"Shut up!" cautioned Sam. "Ma, he's comin' to his senses!"
There was no doubt of it now, for a meaning had come into his eyes.
"Shall I take her away?" queried Sam in a hasty whisper. "He may do
the girl harm. Look at the yaller in his eyes!"
"No," said his wife softly, "it's time for us to leave 'em alone."
"But look at him now!" he muttered. "He's makin' a sound back in his
throat like the growl of a wolf! I'm afeard for the gal, ma!"
"Sam, you're an old fool!"
He followed her reluctantly from the room.
"Now," said his wife, "we c'n leave the door a little open--jest
a crack--an' you c'n look through and tell when she's in any reel
danger."
Sam obeyed.
"Dan ain't sayin' a word," he said. "He's jest glarin' at her."
"An' what's she doin'?" asked Mrs. Daniels.
"She's got her arm around his shoulders. I never knew they could be
such a pile of music in a gal's voice, ma!"
"Sam, you was always a fool!"
"He's pushin' her away to the length of his arm."
"An' she? An' she?" whispered Mrs. Daniels.
"She's talkin' quick. The big wolf is standin' close to them an'
turnin' his head from one face to the other like he was wonderin'
which was right in the argyment."
"The ways of lovers is as queer as the ways of the Lord, Sam!"
"Dan has caught an arm up before his face, an' he's sayin' one word
over an' over. She's dropped on her knees beside the bed. She's
talkin'. Why does she talk so low, ma?"
"She don't dare speak loud for fear her silly heart would bust. Oh, I
know, I know! What fools all men be! What fools! She's askin' him to
forgive her."
"An' he's tryin' all his might not to," whispered Mrs. Daniels in an
awe-stricken voice.
"Black Bart has put his head on the lap of the gal. You c'n hear him
whine! Dan looks at the wolf an' then at the girl. He seems sort of
dumbfoundered. She's got her one hand on the head of Bart. She's got
the other hand to her face, and she's weepin' into that hand. Martha,
she's give up tryin' to persuade him."
There was a moment of silence.
"He's reachin' out his hand for Black Bart. His fingers is on those of
the girl. They's both starin'."
"Ay, ay!" she said. "An' what now?"
But Sam closed the door and set his back to it, facing his wife.
"I reckon the rest of it's jest like the endin' of a book, ma," he
said.
"Men is all fools!" whispered Mrs. Daniels, but there were tears in
her eyes.
Sam went out to put up Kate's horse in the stable. Mrs. Daniels sat in
the dining-room, her hands clasped in her lap while she watched the
grey dawn come up the east. When Sam entered and spoke to her, she
returned no answer. He shook his head as if her mood completely
baffled him, and then, worn out by the long watching, he went to bed.
For along time Mrs. Daniels sat without moving, with the same strange
smile transfiguring her. Then she heard a soft step pause at the
entrance to the room, and turning saw Kate. There was something in
their faces which made them strangely alike. A marvellous grace and
dignity came to Mrs. Daniels as she rose.
"My dear!" she said.
"I'm so happy!" whispered Kate.
"Yes, dear! And Dan?"
"He's sleeping like a child! Will you look at him? I think the fever's
gone!"
They went hand in hand--like two girls, and they leaned above the bed
where Whistling Dan lay smiling as he slept. On the floor Black Bart
growled faintly, opened one eye on them, and then relapsed into
slumber. There was no longer anything to guard against in that house.
* * * * *
It was several days later that Hal Purvis, returning from his scouting
expedition, met no less a person that Sheriff Gus Morris at the mouth
of the canyon leading to the old Salton place.
"Lucky I met you, Hal," said the genial sheriff. "I've saved you from
a wild-goose chase."
"How's that?"
"Silent has jest moved."
"Where?"
"He's taken the trail up the canyon an' cut across over the hills to
that old shanty on Bald-eagle Creek. It stands--"
"I know where it is," said Purvis. "Why'd he move?"
"Things was gettin' too hot. I rode over to tell him that the boys was
talkin' of huntin' up the canyon to see if they could get any clue of
him. They knowed from Joe Cumberland that the gang was once here."
"Cumberland went to you when he got out of the valley?" queried Purvis
with a grin.
"Straight."
"And then where did Cumberland go?"
"I s'pose he went home an' joined his gal."
"He didn't," said Purvis drily.
"Then where is he? An' who the hell cares where he is?"
"They're both at Buck Daniels's house."
"Look here, Purvis, ain't Buck one of your own men? Why, I seen him up
at the camp jest a while ago!"
"Maybe you did, but the next time you call around he's apt to be
missin'."
"D'you think--"
"He's double crossed us. I not only seen the girl an' her father at
Buck's house, but I also seen a big dog hangin' around the house.
Gus, it was Black Bart, an' where that wolf is you c'n lay to it that
Whistlin' Dan ain't far away!"
The sheriff stared at him in dumb amazement, his mouth open.
"They's a price of ten thousand on the head of Whistlin' Dan,"
suggested Purvis.
The sheriff still seemed too astonished to understand.
"I s'pose," said Purvis, "that you wouldn't care special for an easy
lump sum of ten thousand, what?"
"In Buck Daniels's house!" burst out the sheriff.
"Yep," nodded Purvis, "that's where the money is if you c'n get enough
men together to gather in Whistlin' Dan Barry."
"D'you really think I'd get some boys together to round up Whistlin'
Dan? Why, Hal, you know there ain't no real reason for that price on
his head!"
"D'you always wait for 'real reasons' before you set your fat hands on
a wad of money?"
The sheriff moistened his lips.
"Ten thousand dollars!"
"Ten thousand dollars!" echoed Purvis.
"By God, I'll do it! If I got him, the boys would forget all about
Silent. They're afraid of Jim, but jest the thought of Barry paralyzes
them! I'll start roundin' up the boys I need today. Tonight we'll do
our plannin'. Tomorrer mornin' bright an' early we'll hit the trail."
"Why not go after him tonight?"
"Because he'd have an edge on us. I got a hunch that devil c'n see in
the dark."
He grinned apologetically for this strange idea, but Purvis nodded
with perfect sympathy, and then turned his horse up the canyon. The
sheriff rode home whistling. On ten thousand dollars more he would be
able to retire from this strenuous life.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE SONG OF THE UNTAMED
Buck and his father were learning of a thousand crimes charged against
Dan. Wherever a man riding a black horse committed an outrage it was
laid to the account of this new and most terrible of long riders.
Two cowpunchers were found dead on the plains. Their half-emptied
revolvers lay close to their hands, and their horses were not far off.
In ordinary times it would have been accepted that they had killed
each other, for they were known enemies, but now men had room for one
thought only. And why should not a man with the courage to take an
outlaw from the centre of Elkhead be charged with every crime on the
range? Jim Silent had been a grim plague, but at least he was human.
This devil defied death.
These were both sad and happy days for Kate. The chief cause of her
sadness, strangely enough, was the rapidly returning strength of
Dan. While he was helpless he belonged to her. When he was strong
he belonged to his vengeance on Jim Silent; and when she heard Dan
whistling softly his own wild, weird music, she knew its meaning as
she would have known the wail of a hungry wolf on a winter night. It
was the song of the untamed. She never spoke of her knowledge. She
took the happiness of the moment to her heart and closed her eyes
against tomorrow.
Then came an evening when she watched Dan play with Black Bart--a
game of tag in which they darted about the room with a violence
which threatened to wreck the furniture, but running with such soft
footfalls that there was no sound except the rattle of Bart's claws
against the floor and the rush of their breath. They came to an abrupt
stop and Dan dropped into a chair while Black Bart sank upon his
haunches and snapped at the hand which Dan flicked across his face
with lightning movements. The master fell motionless and silent. His
eyes forgot the wolf. Rising, they rested on Kate's face. They rose
again and looked past her.
She understood and waited.
"Kate," he said at last, "I've got to start on the trail."
Her smile went out. She looked where she knew his eyes were staring,
through the window and far out across the hills where the shadows
deepened and dropped slanting and black across the hollows. Far away
a coyote wailed. The wind which swept the hills seemed to her like a
refrain of Dan's whistling--the song and the summons of the untamed.
"That trail will never bring you home," she said.
There was a long silence.
"You ain't cryin', honey?"
"I'm not crying, Dan."
"I got to go."
"Yes."
"Kate, you got a dyin' whisper in your voice."
"That will pass, dear."
"Why, honey, you _are_ cryin'!"
He took her face between his hands, and stared into her misted eyes,
but then his glance wandered past her, through the window, out to the
shadowy hills.
"You won't leave me now?" she pleaded.
"I must!"
"Give me one hour more!"
"Look!" he said, and pointed.
She saw Black Bart reared up with his forepaws resting on the
window-sill, while he looked into the thickening night with the eyes
of the hunter which sees in the dark.
"The wolf knows, Kate," he said, "but I can't explain."
He kissed her forehead, but she strained close to him and raised her
lips.
She cried, "My whole soul is on them."
"Not that!" he said huskily. "There's still blood on my lips an' I'm
goin' out to get them clean."
He was gone through the door with the wolf racing before him.
She stumbled after him, her arms outspread, blind with tears; and
then, seeing that he was gone indeed, she dropped into the chair,
buried her face against the place where his head had rested, and wept.
Far away the coyote wailed again, and this time nearer.
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE COWARD
Before the coyote cried again, three shadows glided into the night.
The lighted window in the house was like a staring eye that searched
after them, but Satan, with the wolf running before, vanished quickly
among the shadows of the hills. They were glad. They were loosed in
the void of the mountain-desert with no destiny save the will of the
master. They seemed like one being rather than three. The wolf was the
eyes, the horse the strong body to flee or pursue, and the man was the
brain which directed, and the power which struck.
He had formulated no plan of action to free Buck and kill Silent. All
he knew was that he must reach the long riders at once, and he would
learn their whereabouts from Morris. He rode more slowly as he
approached the hotel of the sheriff. Lights burned at the dining-room
windows. Probably the host still sat at table with his guests, but it
was strange that they should linger over their meal so late. He had
hoped that he would be able to come upon Morris by surprise. Now he
must take him in the midst of many men. With Black Bart slinking at
his heels he walked softly across the porch and tiptoed through the
front room.
The door to the dining-room was wide. Around the table sat a dozen
men, with the sheriff at their head. The latter, somewhat red of face,
as if from the effort of a long speech, was talking low and earnestly,
sometimes brandishing his clenched fist with such violence that it
made his flabby cheeks quiver.
"We'll get to the house right after dawn," he was saying, "because
that's the time when most men are so thick-headed with sleep that--"
"Not Whistling Dan Barry," said one of the men, shaking his head. "He
won't be thick-headed. Remember, I seen him work in Elkhead, when he
slipped through the hands of a roomful of us."
A growl of agreement went around the table, and Black Bart in
sympathy, echoed the noise softly.
"What's that?" called the sheriff, raising his head sharply.
Dan, with a quick gesture, made Black Bart slink a pace back.
"Nothin'," replied one of the men. "This business is gettin' on your
nerves, sheriff. I don't blame you. It's gettin' on mine."