CHAPTER XXIII

"DIED WITH HIS BOOTS ON"

It was now growing light, and they drove the horses hard. Hugh rode steadily behind the bunch, while the boys were out on either flank, keeping them straight, and not permitting any lagging. Once they stopped for a little while and caught three fresh horses which Hugh pointed out, put their saddles on them and turned loose their own horses.

The morning passed, and it was now the middle of the afternoon. The boys had noticed that Hugh often turned about and looked back up the level valley, and they themselves were also watching the back trail to see whether there was any pursuit. The sun was getting low, when far back up the valley was seen a speck of dust, which gradually grew larger, and underneath it they could see a black spot that was constantly growing nearer and nearer. It was evidently a man on horseback. After they had watched it for some time, Hugh motioned both boys to come over toward him, and riding there side by side in the thick dust kicked up by the hurrying herd, Hugh said to them:

"Boys, there's one man coming, and he's on a good horse, and we've got to kill him, I expect. Let these horses stop now, and catch up three other animals and change the packs onto them, and by that time this fellow will be close up to us, and we can see what he wants."

They slowed down their horses, the willing herd stopped and began to feed.

Jack and Joe rode through it, and one by one caught the pack horses, which they brought back to Hugh. Then Hugh, sitting on his horse, pointed out to them other animals to catch, and they roped them, brought them up, and one by one the packs were transferred to the new horses. The horses did not like it very much, and one or two of them bucked, and to Jack it seemed rather nervous work to be doing this when the approaching horseman kept growing larger and larger, and when, for all he knew, before long bullets would be flying. The work was finished before the horseman was near them, and then Hugh told the boys to start the herd on again. But Jack demurred, and said:

"Hold on, Hugh; are you going to stay here and meet this man? I think we all ought to stay, because something may happen."

"Well," said Hugh, "I don't like the idea of your stopping. I'd rather have you go on and start these horses. Nothing's going to happen to me; I feel pretty sure of that. I shall be on the ground, and have every advantage over this fellow, if he wants trouble."

"Hugh," said Joe, "how will this do: suppose Jack gets off twenty steps one side of you and I get off twenty steps on the other, and we won't do anything unless it looks like you were going to get hurt; then we can shoot."

"All right," said Hugh, "if it will make you boys feel any easier; but I tell you nothing is going to happen. If that fellow don't stop when he gets within good rifle shot I'll stop him, and I won't hurt him either. If he's got so much sand that he won't know when a man's got the drop on him, I may have to hurt him, but I don't look to."

The man came on; his horse was a great powerful beast and had been ridden hard, for it was covered with dust and foam. When he got within a hundred yards, Hugh dismounted, and stepping out in front of his horse, raised his rifle to his shoulder, and pointed it at the man. The man paid no attention to the motion, save to put his hand behind him and jerk from his holster a six-shooter. He called out something as he came on, but they could not distinguish what he said.

"Hands up!" Hugh called; but the man paid no attention, and the distance between the party and the rider grew smaller.

"Hands up!" Hugh shouted again, and then a third time; and still the man came on. Hugh fired, and the horse plunged forward on his knees throwing the rider far before him. It was Dowling.

He struck on his head and hands and slid a little way along the earth, and then springing to his feet, with his left hand he pulled another six-shooter from his belt; but as he raised it, Hugh's rifle sounded again, and the man fell.

"Look out for him, boys! Don't go near him; he's like a grizzly bear; likely to be playing possum." Hugh watched the man with a wary eye, and was not surprised to see him after a moment raise himself on one elbow and feel about over the ground, in the effort to recover the pistol which he had dropped. Hugh had seen it fall, and knowing the man's quickness with the pistol, watched him carefully. In a moment, however, the man sank back and seemed to be breathing hard, and Hugh called to the boys:

"Watch him, now, and I'll step up to him and get that gun; I'll be ready for him if he moves."

Hugh stepped carefully but quickly forward, with his gun ready, and had almost reached the man, when he moved slightly, and Hugh sprang swiftly to one side, as the pistol was discharged without being raised. In a moment Hugh was on the man, and had taken the arm from him and thrown it to one side.

Dowling was badly wounded, and it was evident he could not live long. When his pistols had been secured they did what they could to make him comfortable. Joe went to the river and brought water in his hat, and after a little, Dowling opened his eyes and spoke.

"Well, you've got me," he said; "I was in hopes I'd get you. I couldn't stand it to have those horses taken, but I wish you'd taken this one, instead of leaving it for me to ride. However, we made a good try to get the stock, and we would have got it if it hadn't been for you. Where did you come from? We never saw anything of you."

"We were just travelling down the river," said Hugh, "and saw the tracks, and I knew there wasn't any reason for a bunch of horses to be driven through this country; so I went back to look up and see what it meant, and I found that you'd got our horses."

"Well," said Dowling, "a fool for luck! Anybody else coming through the country wouldn't have paid any attention to that horse trail, but you just had to do it.

"I reckon I've got it," he went on; "and I expect it's about time too, but I hate almightily to be downed by an old man. I'd a heap sight rather have had one of them young fellows kill me."

"Well," said Hugh, "I expect when a man's time comes, it don't make much difference how he gets killed."

"No," said Dowling, "I expect maybe it don't. I always allowed I die with my boots on, anyhow, and here I am."

During the few moments that had elapsed since he had received his wound his voice had grown much weaker. He was not bleeding much, but Hugh shook his head as he looked at the wound.

"Have some more water, Dowling?" he said.

"Yes, a little," said Dowling; but as Hugh raised him up to drink, he began to choke, and in a moment, after a shudder or two, lay dead.

"Well, boys," said Hugh, "we've got to bury him, and then move along. Suppose you two go over onto the edge of that bluff and scrape away the clay, as much as you can with your knives, and I'll bring the body over, and put his saddle-blanket over him, and we'll cover him up."

It had all happened so quickly, and there had been so much excitement about it, that Jack hardly understood or realized what had happened. He and Joe walked over to the bluff, and scraping away the soft yellow clay, soon made a place six or eight feet long, and presently Hugh came over, carrying the man on his shoulder, and they laid him in his shallow grave. Hugh took off his belt, and looked through his pockets to see if he had any papers by which he might be identified, but found none. They covered him with the earth, and brought flat stones that had fallen down from the top of the bluff, and piled them upon the grave, to protect it from the wolves.

Then Hugh went back, and picking up the two pistols that Dowling had dropped, shoved them in the holsters, and holding out the belt to Jack, he said, "You want to wear this, son?"

"Why, yes, Hugh, I'd like to have it to remember this day by, though there are some things that I don't much care to remember."

"Well," said Hugh, "this is the way things used to be in the far west, but I thought we'd about got through with it by this time. However, some of the old spirit seems to crop out now and then."

They mounted, and started the herd along again. They had not gone far before Hugh said, "I want you boys to drive these animals on three or four miles down the creek, and leave them there; but cut out the pack horses, and we'll camp right here."

Camp was made in a bunch of cottonwood brush, but the lodge was not put up. The pack horses were hobbled, and then the boys drove the loose horses some distance further down the stream, and returning found the camp dark, but supper ready.

"I thought," said Hugh, "that there was just a chance that those two other fellows might follow us down and try to take some of the horses back again; so we had better stop here, without any fire, and with the horses kept close, and make an early start in the morning."

Hugh had them up long before day. They built no fire, but ate some dried meat, and started on. The tired horses were found just where they had been left, were pushed along at a good gait all day and crossed the Platte; and the next night they drove them into Mr. Sturgis' ranch to the great astonishment of all there, and later of Powell, and the other men from whom horses had been stolen.

Great was the credit received by all three of those who had brought back the stolen horses. Mr. Sturgis gave to Jack and Joe each three good riding animals; and to this day Jack talks of the only horse stealing expedition he was ever on.

Transcriber's note: In Chapter I there is the word "Hi d[)a]t sa" which contains an "a" with a breve accent mark above it which is rendered as [)a]. In Chapter II is the word " Ass[)i]ne" which contains an "i" with breve accent mark above, [)i].

End of Project Gutenberg's Jack in the Rockies, by George Bird Grinnell