He spotted something up ahead. A dark hole in the side of the wash marked the mouth of a cave. As Preacher and Lorenzo approached it, Preacher saw the tracks and the blood leading into the opening. Instinct had drawn the grizzly to a place where it could den up.
The two men reined to a halt. Lorenzo frowned at the cave mouth and said, “What do we do now? That damn thing found itself a hole to crawl into!”
“To crawl into and die, more’n likely,” Preacher said. “But I ain’t turnin’ back until I know for sure.”
Lorenzo looked over at him, frowning in surprise. “You don’t mean to tell me you figure on goin’
“Chances are it ain’t even a real cave, just a hollowed-out place,” Preacher said. “Probably not more’n eight or ten feet deep. If I can get down there, I ought to be able to see into it enough to tell if the bear’s dead.”
“What if it
Preacher thought about it for a minute. “Tell you what. We’ll tie a rope around me and fasten the other end to Horse, so if I need to get out of there in a hurry, he can pull me out.”
Lorenzo didn’t look convinced, but he said, “All right. It’s your skin. Just don’t be expectin’ me to climb down in there after you if you get in trouble.”
“I don’t,” Preacher assured him. “Just keep your rifle handy.”
He dismounted and took the coiled rope off Horse’s saddle. He made a loop in one end and slipped it over his head and shoulders, tightening it under his arms and around his chest. The other end he tied to the saddle.
“Toss my rifle to me once I’m down there,” he told Lorenzo. He led Horse away from the edge until he judged the stallion was far enough away to keep the rope taut. Then he backed to the edge. The rope stretched out tight between him and Horse.
“All right, old fella,” Preacher called to the stallion. “Come toward me, nice and slow.”
Horse started walking forward. As he did, Preacher leaned back against the rope and reached over the edge with a booted foot. He found a good place to brace it and then stepped back with the other foot. As Horse came toward him, Preacher was able to walk backward down the sheer wall of the arroyo. The sandstone face was rough enough to provide several good footholds along the way.
It didn’t take long at all for Preacher to descend into the wash. “Keep comin’, Horse,” he called up to the stallion so he would have plenty of slack in the rope as he approached the cave. Now that he was closer, he could see that the bear’s tracks definitely led into the dark opening.
Lorenzo threw the rifle down to Preacher. The mountain man held the weapon ready for instant use as he started toward the cave mouth. The opening was about five feet tall and four feet wide. Preacher crouched to look into it.
The bear exploded out of the cave with a swiftness and ferocity that surprised even Preacher. He pulled the rifle’s trigger, making flame and smoke spew from the muzzle, but didn’t know if he hit the grizzly or not. He had to move so fast to avoid the lethal swipe of a huge paw that he lost his footing and sprawled backward on the ground.
“Back, Horse, back!” he yelled. Instantly, the rope around him went taut.
As he slid backward over the dusty floor of the wash, being dragged by Horse, Preacher scrambled to get his feet under him. The bear charged after him. Preacher thrust the rifle out to block another blow from one of those paws. The impact knocked the weapon out of his hands and sent it spinning away, but at least it kept the claws from raking across his face.
Preacher tried to get turned around so he could walk back up the wall, but he didn’t make it in time. His shoulder rammed against the sandstone so hard the impact took his breath away and stunned him. He felt his feet come off the ground, as the rope around his torso began to lift him.
The bear came at him again, reaching for him. Preacher had the presence of mind to draw his legs up and then lash out with them, kicking the bear in the chest. He wasn’t strong enough to knock down such a behemoth, but the grizzly was staggered for a second. It threw back its head and let out an angry, frustrated roar.
It lunged forward again, enveloping Preacher in its powerful arms. As the creature pulled him against it, he reached for his pistols, hoping to blast both double-shotted loads into the bear’s face at close range. As the bear’s grip tightened Preacher’s arms were pinned against his sides. Even though his hands were wrapped around the butts of the pistols, he couldn’t pull them from behind his belt.
He jerked his head aside as the bear bit at him. The animal’s hot breath washed across his face and was so foul it made him gag. Something was wrong with the bear, Preacher thought. Its insides were festering.
Knowing that wasn’t going to do him any good. The grizzly was about to crush the life out of him.
Dog leaped from the bank and landed on top of the bear’s head, snarling and snapping. The big cur hadn’t been able to stand at the edge of the wash and watch his old friend battling for his life without jumping right into the middle of the fracas. Dog’s sharp teeth tore into one of the bear’s ears and started ripping at it. The bear roared in pain and let go of Preacher to reach up and remove the annoyance from the back of its neck.
With a pained yelp, Dog went flying away. The grizzly wheeled around and went after him.
Preacher started rising again as Horse lifted him. His wits returned to him, and he yelled, “No, Horse! Down!”
“Preacher, what the hell you doin’?” Lorenzo shouted in alarm. “Get outta there!”
“I ain’t leavin’ Dog down here!”
Preacher’s feet hit the ground again. He grabbed the rope, pulled it loose, threw it off.
Without the rope, he was free to charge after the bear. As he looked past the varmint’s considerable bulk, he saw Dog lying on the ground, apparently stunned if not worse. As he ran, Preacher pulled the guns from behind his belt and cocked them.
“Damn you, bear!” he bellowed. “I’m gettin’ tired of fightin’ you!”
