CHAPTER III
OLD HANK COOMBS BEARS A MESSAGE
If there was one thing Bob could do well, it was to ride. Born inKentucky, where horses take a leading part in the education of mostboys, Bob had always spent a good part of his time in the saddle.
Hence, when he came out here to the plains, the cowboys of the ranchfound that, in his own way, he was well versed in managing the fineblack horse he brought along with him.
Of course there were dozens of tricks which these daring riders of theplains could show the tenderfoot from the South; but when it came downto hard riding Bob was able to hold his own.
When his powerful horse bolted in such a strange fashion Bob simplykept his seat, and tried to soothe Domino by soft words. For once theremedy failed to produce any immediate effect. The animal seemedfairly wild, and tore along over the open country like mad.
"He never acted like this before in all his life," thought Bob, as hefound considerable difficulty in keeping his saddle, such were thesudden whirls the black made in his erratic course.
But although he had by no means learned all the things known to oldcowmen, Bob had picked up quite a few points since arriving at theranch. He had even heard of a mean trick practiced by revengefulMexicans, and others, when they wished to place a rival's life indanger.
"Something has happened to him since we went into that store," Bob saidagain and again, as he puzzled his wits to hit upon an explanation forthe animal's remarkable antics. "Now, what could it have been? Wouldany fellow be so mean as to fasten some of those prickly sand burrsunder his tail? Or perhaps it's a poison thorn under the saddle!"
This last idea seemed to strike him as pretty near the truth. He beganto investigate as well as he was able during the rushing of the runawayhorse. When, in pursuing his investigations, he ran his hand under theflap of the saddle, he could feel the horse start afresh, and his queeractions seemed worse than ever.
"That's just what it is, as sure as anything!" Bob declared, his wholeframe quivering with indignation at the thought of anyone being socruel and treacherous; "but how in the wide world am I going to get atthe thing?"
His first impulse was to ease the strain all he could by removing hisweight from the point where he believed the thorn to have been hidden.This he did by leaning forward after the manner of a clever jockey in arace, throwing pretty much all his body upon the shoulders and neck ofthe horse.
Then he again began to speak soothingly in the ear of Domino. Bydegrees the horse seemed to slacken his wild pace.
Encouraged by this fact, Bob continued the treatment. It appeared asthough the intelligent animal must comprehend what was wanted, for,although evidently still in more or less pain, he gradually ceased hisrunaway gait, until, finally, at the command of "whoa!" Domino came toa complete stop.
Bob was on the ground immediately. His horse was trembling withexcitement and other causes. Bob continued to pat him gently, andspeak soothing words. All the time he was working toward the buckle ofthe band by means of which the saddle was held firmly on the beast'sback.
Once he had a grip on this he made a sudden pull. Domino squirmed, andfor the moment Bob feared the animal would break away.
"Easy now, old fellow; take it quiet! I'll have that saddle off in ajiffy; and see what is wrong. Softly, Domino! Good old Domino!"
While he was talking in this manner Bob was releasing the band; and,with a sudden jerk, he threw the saddle to the ground.
His quick eye detected signs of blood on the glossy back of theKentucky horse.
"That's what it was!" he exclaimed, angrily. "A thorn of some kind,put there so that when I jumped into my seat my weight would drive itin. And I reckon, too, it would be just like the cowardly sneak topick out one that had a poison tip! Oh! what a skunk! and how I'd liketo see some of the boys at the ranch round him up! But I wonder, nowcould I find it? I'd like to get Frank's opinion on it."
The horse had by now ceased his mad prancing. This proved that thecause for his strange actions had been removed when Bob cast the saddleoff. And it did not require a hunt of more than two minutes todiscover some little object clinging to the cloth under the saddle. Itwas, just as Bob had suspected, a thorn with several points that wereas sharp as needles, and very tough.
Bob put it away in one of his pockets. Then he once more replaced thesaddle, carefully adjusting the girth so as to avoid any more pressureon the painful back of Domino than was absolutely necessary.
The horse seemed to understand his master's actions, and, althoughstill restive, allowed Bob to mount.
Cantering along over the back trail, in half an hour Bob came in sightof his chum heading toward him.
"Well," said Frank, as they finally met, "I was beginning to getworried about you, even though I knew you could manage a horse allright. It was a lively run, I should say," as he glanced at thefoam-streaked flanks of the gloss black.
"As fierce a dash as I ever want to take," answered Bob, patting hishorse gently.
"Did you find out what ailed him?" asked the other.
"After I'd spent some time trying to keep from being thrown, I did."
As he said this Bob drew the thorn from his pocket, and held it beforeFrank, who took the vicious little thing in his hand.
"I thought so," he muttered. "That's Peg's idea of getting even withus; the coward!"
"But you don't mean to say Peg did that?" exclaimed Bob, astonished.
"Well, not with his own hand. He wouldn't know how, you see; but hehad a Mexican cowboy along with him who is up to all thesetricks--Spanish Joe. When we were busy in that store, he crept up andfixed this thorn under your saddle. Of course, as soon as you spranginto your seat, your weight just drove one of these tough little pointsin deeper. And, as the horse jumped, every movement was so much moretorture. Get onto it, Bob?"
"Sure I do; and I guessed all that while riding back. But tell me, whydid he pick out _my_ horse, instead of your Buckskin?" asked theKentucky boy.
"Look back a little. Who was it gave Peg his little tumble when he wasstriking that child? Why, of course it was nobody but Bob Archer. Isaw Peg standing on the porch of the tavern as I galloped after you;and give you my word, Bob, he had a grin on his face that looked as ifit would never come off. Peg was happy--why? Because he had just seenyou being carried like the wind out of town on a bolting nag. And Iguess he wouldn't care very much if you got thrown, with some of yourribs broken in the bargain."
Bob proceeded to tell how he had figured on what caused the queerantics of his horse, and then what his method for relieving thepressure had been.
"Just what you should have done!" exclaimed Frank, enthusiastically."Say, you're getting on to all the little wrinkles pretty fast. And itworked too, did it?"
"Thanks to the smartness of Domino, it did," replied Bob, proudly."Some other horses might have broken away as soon as their riderdismounted; but he's mighty near human, Frank, I tell you. He juststood there, quivering with excitement, and pain, till I got the thingoff. But do you know what kind of thorn this is?"
"I know it as well as you would a persimmon growing on a tree in OldKentucky; or a pawpaw in the thicket. It's rank poison, too, and willbreed trouble if the wound isn't taken care of in time.
"That's bad news, old fellow. I'd sure hate to lose my horse,"remarked Bob, dejectedly, as he threw an arm lovingly over the neck ofthe black.
"Oh! I don't think it'll be as bad as that; especially since I happento have along with me in my pack some ointment old Hank Coombs gave meat a time I fell down on one of the same kind of stickers, and got itin my arm," and Frank opened the smaller of the two packs he hadfastened behind his saddle.
When the ointment was being thoroughly rubbed into the spot where thebarb of the thorn had pierced the flesh of the animal, Domino seemed tounderstand what their object was. He gave several little whinnies,even as he moved uneasily when his master's hand touched the painfulspot.
"Now what's the
programme?" asked Bob, after he had replaced the saddle.
"Just what we decided on before," replied his chum; "a little restbefore we make a start. Twenty-four hours will do Domino considerablegood, too. How did you come out about the duffle you were carrying;any of it get lost?"
"None that I've noticed. I'll make a round-up and see, before we goany further," Bob remarked, examining the packages secured behind hissaddle.
"How?" queried Frank, in the terse, Indian style, as he saw that theother had gone carefully over the entire outfit.
"Everything here, right side up with care. And now I'll have to mountagain, a thing that may not appeal very much to Domino. But it's luckyI long ago learned the jockey way of riding, with most of the weightupon the withers of the horse. In that manner you see, Frank, I canrelieve the poor beast more than a little."
Together they rode off slowly. Really, for one day it seemed that thebig black must have had all the running his fancy could wish. Besides,neither of the boys knew of any reason for haste. As Frank hadsuggested, it would perhaps be just as well to allow a certain amountof time to elapse, before pushing their intended investigation of themysteries supposed to hover around Thunder Mountain.
The afternoon had almost half passed when Frank's sharp eyes discovereda single horseman riding on a course that would likely bring him acrosstheir trail soon.
"Seems to me there's something familiar about that fellow's way ofsitting in the saddle," he observed; and then, reaching for the fieldglasses which he carried swung in a case over his shoulder, he quicklyadjusted them to his eyes. "Thought so," he muttered, and Bob couldsee him smile as he said it.
"Recognize the rider, then? Don't tell me now that it's Peg, or one ofthose slippery cowboy friends he has trailing after him," remarked Bob.
"Here, take the glasses, and see what you think," replied the other,laughingly.
No sooner had the Kentucky lad taken a single good look than he calledout:
"Who but old Hank Coombs, the veteran cow puncher of the Southwest! Isuppose your father has sent him on an errand, Frank."
"Just as likely as not, because he trusts old Hank more than any man onthe entire ranch. You can see he's headed in a line that will fetch upat the Circle Ranch by midnight, if he keeps galloping on. Look there,he sees us, and is waving his arm. Yes, he's changed his course so asto meet us, Bob."
"But if we needed the glass to find out who he was, how does it comethat an old man like Hank could tell that we were friends, at such adistance?" asked the young tenderfoot, always eager to learn.
"Because his eyes are as good as ever they were. Some of these fellowswho have lived in the open all their lives have eyes like an eagle's,and can tell objects that would look like moving dots to you. Let'sswing around a bit, so as to keep old Hank from doing all the going."
As he spoke Frank veered more to the left, and in this fashion theyspeedily drew near the advancing horseman. He proved to be a cowman ingreasy chaps, and with many wrinkles on his weather-beaten face. ButHank Coombs was as spry as most men of half his age. He could stillhold his place in a round-up; swing the rope in a dexterous manner;bring down his steer as cleverly as the next man; ride the mostdangerous of bucking broncos; and fulfill his duties with exactness.Few men grow old on the plains. Most of them die in the harness; and acowboy who has outlived his usefulness is difficult to find.
The veteran eyed the additional packs back of the saddles of the twoboys with suspicion in his eyes. He knew the venturesome nature of hisemployer's son; and doubtless immediately suspected that Frank mighthave some new, daring scheme in view, looking to showing his friendfrom the East the wonders of this grand country, where the distanceswere so great, the deserts so furiously hot, the mountains so lofty,and the prairies so picturesque.
"Ain't headin' toward home, are ye, Frank?" was the first question Hankasked, as they all merged together, and rode slowly onward in company.
"Oh! not thinking of such a thing, Hank," replied the boy. "Why, weonly left the ranch yesterday, you know, and meant to be away severaldays, perhaps a week. But I'm glad we ran across your trail right now,Hank, because you can take a message to dad for me."
"Glad to do that same, Frank," the veteran cowman replied, and thenadded: "but jest why are ye headin' this way, might I ask? It's a wildkentry ahead of ye, and thar be some people as don't think it's jestthe safest place goin', what with the pesky cattle-rustler crowd ascomes up over the Mexican border to give the ranchers trouble; andsometimes the Injuns off their reservation, with the young bucks primedfor a scrap."
"Is that all, Hank?" asked Frank, turning a smiling face upon the oldrider. Hank moved uneasily, seeming to squirm in his saddle.
"No, it ain't," he finally admitted, with a half grin; "that's ThunderMounting about twenty mile ahead o' ye. None o' us fellers keers aheap 'bout headin' that-a-way. Twice I've been 'bliged to explore thecanyons thar, arter lost cattle; but I never did hanker 'bout the job.It's a good place to keep away from, Frank."
"You don't say, Hank!" chuckled the boy. "Too bad; but you see that'sjust the very place we expect to head for to-morrow--Thunder Mountain!"
The old man looked closely at him, and shook his head.
"I don't like to hear ye say that, Frank," he muttered, uneasily; "an'I kinder reckons as how yer father'll feel oneasy when I tell him whatyer up to. 'Cause, I opine, ye wants me to carry thet same news backhome; don't ye?"
"Sure," answered the other, laughing. "That's what I meant when I saidI was glad we'd met up with you, Hank."
"But ye didn't expect to take a turn thar when ye left home, did ye?"the veteran cowman went on.
"Never entered my head, Hank. Fact is, we weren't thinking of ThunderMountain up to an hour or two ago, when we ran across Peg Grant, whowas in town with his two followers, Spanish Joe and Nick Jennings."
"The wust as ever throwed a leg over leather," muttered Hank, betweenhis teeth. "We been talkin' it over, some o' us boys, an' 'bout kim tothe conclusion as how them fellers must be in touch with the Mendozacrowd o' rustlers as draps over the Rio Grande every leetle while, tograb a bunch o' long horns."
"My opinion exactly, Hank," went on Frank. "But listen till I tell youwhat they are thinking of doing about finding out the secret of ThunderMountain."
Quickly he related the incident of their meeting Peg, and of his boast.
"They'll never do it, mark me," declared Hank, after he had been put inpossession of the main facts. "Thet noise ain't human! I beena-hearin' it for the last forty years, an' I give ye my word it'sgittin' wuss right along. The reds believe as how it's the voice ofthe Great Spirit talkin' to 'em. An' honest now, Frank, thems mysentiments to a dot."
"In other words, Hank, you believe the mountain is haunted, and thatanyone bold enough to wander into the unknown country that lies backthere is going to get into a peck of trouble?" Frank asked, seriously.
"Reckon as how that kivers the ground purty well," replied the cowman,grimly.
"Well," Frank went on, "we happen to believe something different, andwe mean to look into the thing a bit. It wouldn't surprise me to findthat some sharp crowd has been taking advantage of the bad name ThunderMountain has always had, to hide among those canyons. And, Hank, I'mgoing to look for the trail of some cattle while I'm there!"
"Which I take it to mean," Hank continued thoughtfully, "that youkinder think them rustlers might be usin' the ha'nted mounting for ahiding place to keep the cows which they run away with? Um! wa'al now,I never thort o' that afore. But stands to reason no Mexicans'd everhave the nerve to go whar white cowmen kept away from."
"Not unless they had solved the strange mystery of the mountain, and nolonger saw any reason to be afraid of the thunder. But listen while Itell you something else that happened to my friend here."
Frank then described the sudden bolt of Domino. At his first words theexperienced western man looked wise. He had immediately guessed whatcaused the unexpected action of
the usually tractable black horse.
"As low down a trick as was ever carried out," he remarked, finally, ashe looked at the thorn. "And jest sech as thet sneakin' coyote,Spanish Joe, would be guilty of tryin'. I've seen it done more'n a fewtimes; and twict the critter was rounded up, and treated like he'd beena hoss thief; 'case ye see, in each case 'twar a woman as rid theanimile as got the thorn. But ye must let me rub somethin' on thetwound right away, Bob."
"Don't bother," sang out Frank, cheerfully; "because we happened tohave with us that ointment you gave me, and I used it a while ago.I'll put on more to-night when we get the saddles off, and once againin the morning."
"Then ye mean to go into camp soon?" inquired Hank.
"See that timber over yonder, where a stream runs? We'll settle downfor the night there. Better hold over with us, Hank, unless you're ina terrible hurry to get back home," Frank observed.
"I'd like to fust rate, Frank; and p'raps thar aint no sech great needo' gittin' back to the ranch to-night. Yes, I'll hang over. P'raps Ikin coax ye to give up that crazy ijee 'bout Thunder Mounting."
And when they had settled down under the trees, with the westering sunsinking toward the horizon where, in the far distance, Frank pointedout to his chum the towering peak toward which they were bound, oldHank did try to influence his employer's son into giving up hisintended trip.
It was useless, however. Frank had made up his mind, and obstaclesonly served to cause him to shut his teeth more firmly together andstick to his resolution. And so they spent the night very comfortably,under the twinkling stars.
"Tell dad not to worry about us at all, Hank," Frank said to theveteran, on the following morning, as they were bidding him good-bye."We'll turn up all right in the course of a few days. And perhaps, whoknows, we might be able to tell you all about the queer noise thatshakes the earth every little while around the big uplift. So-long,Hank!"
The old cowman sat in his saddle, and looked after the two boys astheir horses went prancing away, each of the riders turning once ortwice to wave a jolly farewell, with uplifted hats.
"As fine a pair o' happy-go-lucky boys as ever drawed breath," Hankmuttered, as his eyes followed their vanishing forms beyond themesquite thicket. "But I sure feel bad 'bout them goin' into that 'ereThunder Mounting territory. I hopes Mr. Haywood'll start out with abunch o' cowmen to round 'em up. But he thinks that Frank kin hold hisown, no matter what comes along. If he don't show signs o' bein'worried, I'm goin' to see if the overseer, Bart Heminway, won't takethe chances of sendin' several of us out to hunt for strays; an' it'llbe funny now, how them mavericks all run toward Thunder Mounting."
Chuckling, as if the new idea that had appealed to him gave himconsiderable satisfaction, the old cow-puncher stirred his littlebronco into action, and was soon galloping away. But, more than a fewtimes, he might have been observed to turn in his saddle and cast alook of curiosity, bordering on apprehension, toward the dimly-seenmountain that arose far away on the Southwestern horizon.
For to Hank Coombs that peak stood for everything in the line ofmystery and unexplained doings.