CHAPTER XV
THE BRANDING IRON
"Come on, boys! Come on!" shouted Bud, as he spurred off in thedarkness, followed by Nort and Dick. "They're trying to drive 'em offthrough the lower end of the valley! We've got to stop 'em!"
"You said it!" shouted Dick.
"Who are they?" yelled Nort
Bud had no time to answer. What was needed, then, was quick action toprevent his own and his cousins', as well as his father's stock fromthe Square M ranch, being driven off by unscrupulous rustlers.
For that this night attack was made by these marauders of the plainswas not to be doubted.
"Ride hard, boys! Ride hard!" shouted Old Billee as he galloped upbeside the boy ranchers.
And they were riding hard--all of them, including the cow punchers whohad come in from their night's duties, expecting to be relieved. Itwas at this favorable--for them--moment that the rascals had made theirattack.
It was so dark that only, indistinctly, could the forms of raiders bemade out. But there were several of them, leaning low over the necksof their galloping steeds, and endeavoring to create a panic among thecattle so that a stampede would result. Once this started it would bea comparatively easy matter for them to "cut out" as many choicespecimens as possible, driving them to some secret place. There thebrands could be "blurred," or changed, and Diamond X Second would beout several thousands of dollars.
"There they are!" yelled Bud, as, riding between Nort and Dick, he sawa group of men swinging their big hats and heard them shouting tofrighten the already thoroughly roused cattle.
But though Bud thus indicated the presence of the rustlers it was not avery clear sight of them that he or his companions had. Only for thefact that those of Flume Valley rode together, and saw the indistinctforms ahead of them, could it be made certain that the unknown oneswere the enemy.
"Crack!"
Bud's gun shot out a menacing warning, for he had fired high in theair, above the heads of the rustlers. He had borne in mind hisfather's injunction never to shoot at a human being unless vitalnecessity required it.
"And I'd rather lose all my cattle than kill anyone," Bud saidafterward. "Unless I had to do it to save my life."
It was for this reason that he had fired high, and his example wasfollowed by his cousins.
But that this consideration on the part of our friends was notappreciated, was made plain, a moment later, when Old Billee exclaimed:
"That was a close one!"
His words followed the whining song of a bullet as it zipped throughthe air, too close to the heads of himself and the boy ranchers to becomfortable.
"I'm goin' t' give 'em some of th' same medicine!" shouted Yellin' Kid,and his gun spat fire, but straight out, and not at a high angle.
Following it, almost instantly, was a yell of pain from one of therustlers--which one could not be told because of the mix-up and thedarkness, but it was a yell nevertheless.
"You winged one!" cried Snake Purdee.
"I meant to!" was the Kid's grim answer.
"Fire high, boys!" cried Bud. "If we can scare 'em off, so much thebetter!"
"Don't reckon they're th' kind that scares easy," objected Old Billee."But we've got 'em on the run!" he exclaimed, a moment or two later,when Bud and his party had ridden around some intervening bunches ofcattle, and were headed straight for the night attackers.
This seemed to describe the situation. So promptly had the boys ofFlume Valley ridden out to repell the raid that the rustlers had notime to stampede the cattle, and cut out some to drive away. Now itseemed there must be a clash--a coming together of the two forces.
But the rustlers, unscrupulous as they were, evidently knew whendiscretion was the better part of valor. They fired several moreshots, one of which scratched Old Billee while another gave an uglywound to Snake Purdee.
Then, with yells of defiance, and before our boys could come closeenough to recognize any of the raiders, the rustlers galloped off, nothaving succeeded in driving away any cattle.
But their attack had not been without damage to Flume Valley stock.For two valuable steers had been shot, and so wounded that they had tobe killed, while several calves were trampled on and crushed intoshapeless masses.
This, together with two wounded men, Old Billee and Snake, made up thesum total of the casualties on the part of the Diamond X Second outfit.
"But they're marked!" shouted Yellin' Kid as he and the others rodeback to camp. "I got one, I'm sure!"
"I fired low, after I saw they were doing the same, and I saw onenearly slump out of his saddle," declared old Billee.
"I'd like to know if they were any of the Hank Fisher or Del Pinzogang," said Bud.
"I wouldn't put it past them," asserted Snake. "We'll ride over t'Hank's place, casual like, t'-day, an' see if any of his men are hurt."
Snake spoke rightly of "to-day," for it was getting sunrise-light whenthe battle was over, and the party returned to the tents near the flumereservoir.
The night of excitement, following the mysterious warning sent by theIndian arrow, had ended, and everyone welcomed the hot, fragrant coffeemade by Buck Tooth.
When Snake's wound and Billee's scratch had been bandaged, the deadcalves buried and the best part of the killed steers cut off for freshbeef, Bud and his friends took what might be termed an accounting.
The boy ranchers, with Old Billee, rode back over the ground covered inthe attack of the night. The veteran cow puncher pointed out where therustlers had ridden into the valley, over a pass that crossed a lowmountain range, which connected, in a fashion, Buffalo Ridge and SnakeMountain. This ridge formed the lower boundary of Bud's range, andonce the cattle had been driven over this they could easily have beenhazed to Hank Fisher's Double Z ranch.
"Well, there's nothing to make sure it was any of Del Pinzo's gang,except general suspicion," remarked Bud, as they were about to rideback to camp. "What's the matter?" he asked, for, with an exclamation,Nort had leaped from his saddle. The eastern lad was picking upsomething from the ground that had been so lately trampled by steersand horses.
"Look!" exclaimed Nort, and he held up a branding iron.
"One of ours?" asked Bud, in rather a commonplace voice.
"Not exactly," Nort answered. "It's marked with a double Z!"