much,' Haney said.
'Neither do I.' Orrin stopped abruptly. The tracks of three horsemen came down from the east and crossed the trail of Tyrel Sackett. Three hard-ridden horses, all shod.
'Be careful!' Haney lifted his rifle.
'Those tracks are fresh!' They faded into the brush, took the time to look around carefully, then followed the trail they had found.
Orrin stopped suddenly, studying the terrain ahead. The way seemed to lead along the side of a low hill that sloped down to a lake with a sandy shore. On the side of the hill were several clusters of trees. One of the clusters, a little higher and farther back, grew up among some rocks. There was a clump of brush and smaller trees, then two tall ones joined by a third somewhat smaller but close to the other two.
'We've found him,' Orrin said.
Haney just looked, and they rode on, scrambling their horses up the bank to the clump of trees and brush.
They found him there, sprawled on fallen leaves, one hand still clutching a stick he had used to help him along. There was blood on the top of his shoulder near his neck where a bullet had cut through the muscle, and his right leg was swollen to almost twice its normal size. He had split the pants leg to ease the binding effect on the swollen leg, which showed black and blue through the gaping hole.
'Haney,' Orrin said, 'you ride back to the carts and get a spare horse. Keep your eyes open for Fleming on the way back, and tell the boys to sit tight and guard the cattle. I won't try to move him tonight. Bring the horse up in the morning.' When Haney had ridden off, Orrin cleared a place of leaves, scraping them well back, and then he put together a small fire of twigs and bits of bark. The flame was too small and too well hidden by the trunks of the trees and the brush to be seen. As for the smoke, it would be dissipated by rising through the foliage of the trees until spread so thin as to be invisible.
He made a bed of piled leaves, and with water from his canteen he bathed the wound. It was going to be troublesome but not dangerous, and from past experience he knew the dangers of infection were few in the fresh pure air of the western country.
When he had made Tyrel comfortable, he led his horse to water at the lake, then let him graze on a small patch of grass not far from the cluster of trees where he could watch both the horse and Tyrel. When it started to become dark, he led the horse into the brush, which was some protection from the mosquitoes, and settled down beside his small fire.
It was then he thought to check Tyrel's six- shooter. Four chambers had been fired; two remained loaded. He reloaded the empty chambers and thrust the gun back into its holster.
He might have been shooting to try to turn the stampede; if not, somebody was dead.
Darkness made a mystery of the forest and goblins of the trees.
He added a knot to the coals and dozed with arabesques of shadow-play upon his dark, hawklike features.
A whisper of sound, the faint crunching of a branch, and his eyes opened wide, and his gun slid into his hand. Something black and ominous loomed in the open space between two trees. His gun was up, his thumb ready on the hammer.
It was Tyrel's line-back dun.
Chapter XV
Highpockets Haney reached the group of trees before the first light, but Orrin already had Tyrel on the dun.
'See anybody?' 'Not a soul.' He paused. 'Fleming was in camp, wondering what had become of us. He brought in two, three head of young stuff he found in the brush.' 'No sign of anybody else?' 'He says he saw nothing.' Tyrel was obviously suffering from a mild concussion, and when he became conscious, he showed no disposition to talk. When asked about Tell, he merely shrugged. The stampede had caught them scattered about the herd, and they had remained scattered.
Orrin rode ahead, scouting for trouble. He had a feeling they'd find it before the day was over.
'Shorty's starting the herd,' Haney said.
'Baptiste and his carts will bring up the drag.
We should see them when we come out of the trees.' They were skirting a small pond, and Tyrel's horse took a sudden turn, and he groaned.
'He's got a bad leg there,' Orrin said.
'It doesn't seem to be broken but bruised like you wouldn't believe. Horse must have fallen or something of the kind.' They sighted the herd as they came into the open.
Shorty had them moving; Fleming was on the far side with the carts bringing up the rear. Baptiste stopped when he saw them, and with great care they loaded Tyrel into one of the carts, making a place for him among the sacks, his rifle beside him. They tied the dun behind the cart in which he was riding.
Haney fell into place with the herd, and Orrin stayed off to one side, watching the country around for some movement or sign of life. He saw nothing.
Somewhere out there was Tell or what was left of him. Somewhere were other hands, lost in the same stampede. The Ox he could see working alongside the herd, but what had become of .his partner? The man Orrin had not yet seen?
Uneasily, Orrin rubbed the stubble of beard on his chin. Shaving every day had become a habit, and he had a dislike of going unshaven no matter where he was.
He was reluctant to leave the area without finding Tell, but Tell, had he been present, would have insisted they get on with the job. Wherever he was, if he was alive, Tell was doing what was needful.
Tyrel was sleeping when he rode by the carts, so there was no chance to try to learn more from him even if he knew more, which was doubtful.
Wide rolled the prairies before their roving eyes, and steadily the cattle moved on, pointing the way to the northwest. All day they walked, and the day following and the next. Somewhere, Orrin supposed, they had reached or would reach the border and pass into Canada. There was no marker, and he looked for none.
They camped by small creeks, near a slough, or in some small meadow where the cattle could feed.
They saw no Indians and no wildlife but flocks of antelope, always within view, or buffalo. Prairie wolves hung on their flanks, watching for the animal who might trail too far behind.
Ten miles that first day because of the late start, fifteen and sixteen on the days following. On the third day, Tyrel spent part of the day in the saddle. At night, they sat beside the campfire.
'They came right out of the prairie,' he explained. 'Suddenly, we heard the thunder of hoofs, and they came over the rise like a black thunder cloud.
'We were all scattered out; there was no chance or time to do anything but try to get out of the way, and that's just what we did. The cattle turned ahead of that herd and began to run with them. There was nothing anybody could do, and even the cattle had no choice but to run. Otherwise, they'd have been trampled into the ground. I heard a scream, but, Orrin, I doubt if it was one of our boys. I don't recall anybody being where that scream came from.' 'We found some remains, but they were so trampled we could only tell it had been a man and more than likely a white man.' 'I doubt if he was one of ours. Brandy was within sight when the buffalo came into sight, and I had time to wave him out of there. Lin--he was our Chinese cook--he was out behind the herd somewhere, and I think it missed him altogether.' 'Who shot you?' 'That happened later. There were three of them, and they were hunting me, or maybe just any survivors.
'A big buffalo bull tossed the dun and me, and when we went down, he came in with his head down to gore us. He hooked, but his horn hit my saddle and so saved the dun. Then I struck my six-shooter in his ear and squeezed her off.
'That bull just naturally rolled over, and the dun scrambled up, and I started to. Seemed that buffalo bull rammed his head into my leg just about the time I was sticking my gun barrel in his ear.
'I got the dun over to me and grabbed a stirrup and pulled myself up. By that time my leg was hurting.
'Well, I taken a look around. The cattle were scattered to kingdom come, and there was nobody in sight but some buzzards.' Tyrel refilled his cup. 'Being one who is apt to accept the situation and take it from there, I considered.
