Robber's Roost (1989) (20 page)

"Not so bad, Smoky," replied Latimer. "I was hit in the back, high up. The bullet's in there. Hurts like hell."

"Ain't you spittin' blood?"

"Shore, a little. I reckon my lung got nicked. But not bad; I can ride. Don't worry about me, Smoky."

Hays laid a rude hand on Miss Herrick. "Git on, an' don't let me hear any more squawks out of you."

The robber took up her halter and straddling his horse he spurred into the muddy stream. The going looked worse than it was. There was quicksand, but it had a stiff crust; it bent but broke only as the hoofs of the horses were being withdrawn. The pack-animals bunched on the shore; then one led, and the others followed. Jim was alongside the foremost. Bay feared quicksand, yet trusted his rider.

Hays led into the middle of the river and then turned downstream.

He was never in difficulties and the gray horse carrying the girl got along still better. The water was scarcely six inches deep and this fact no doubt rendered traveling easy at that point.

Soon the whole cavalcade was splashing down the river, the riders behind and on each side of the pack-horses. They left no trace of their tracks now. Washes and gorges and canyons opened into the Dirty Devil on both sides. Half a mile down, the river made a sharp bend and the canyon narrowed again to a dark, forbidding, many-hued crack. Hays kept on, getting into swifter and deeper water, where he plunged his horse and dragged the gray. He passed one wide intersecting gorge from which a slender, muddy stream emerged. That, thought Jim, should have been a good place to go up. But this robber knew where he was heading. He had a goal in mind. Nothing but death could have stopped him.

The pack-horses floundered in places. Some of them stuck, only to be beaten to violent exertion, when they freed themselves to go on.

Jim's sight covered all the surroundings from moment to moment, always to be drawn back to that tan-clad form on the gray horse.

Time and again water splashed all over her; her horse staggered, sank one hoof and then another, plunged to free himself, and got out; she swayed in the saddle; often she looked back, and no doubt, through her veil, could see Jim never far from her. Jim took it that she realized this was no accident.

Hays passed other gorges breaking in from the left wall, and ever the way grew more forbidding. At last he turned into a crack that could not be seen a hundred yards back, and when Jim reached it he was amazed to see the robber leading up another narrow gorge, down which ran another swift, narrow stream. Jim appreciated that a man would have had to know where this entrance was, or he could never have found it. The opening was hidden by a point of wall which curved out and around. It opened down the river, and against the dark shade there was not visible from the opposite side of the canyon or from upriver any line of demarkation to show this secret gateway, which undoubtedly led into the wildest part of the brakes.

This gash wound like a snake into the bowels of the colored, overhanging earth; and part of the time Jim could not see Hays ahead nor more than a few of the pack-horses behind. When, however, the water began to lose something of its muddy nature, Jim concluded that the loamy soil of this canyon changed, or else it was not long.

The former proved to be the case. The canyon widened and the walls lowered; grass and shrubs made their appearance upon banks and shelves; a heavy, gravel bottom gave the stream a rippling murmur; huge rocks and caverned cliffs made their appearance. Still the volume of the stream did not diminish.

By sunset Jim calculated the horses had traveled seven or eight miles without stepping once out of the water. The heat and dust had vanished. Twilight thickened between the cliffs. And at last, at a point where the walls were scarcely a hundred feet high the canyon forked. Hays took the left fork, which was dry. And darkness soon hid from Jim any distinct features. Seldom did he see a gleam of Miss Herrick's gray horse. The rims grew black; stars burned in the strip of sky above; the weary hoofs cracked on stone.

Two long hours later Hays led up out of the boxing canyon. A hummocky, lonely, black-and-gray landscape rolled away on every side to the horizon of stars. Up and down, on through grass and weeds, across flats and ridges, the robber led for two or more hours longer, until Jim began to wonder how much more the pack- horses could stand. Then abruptly they began to descend into a black, round hole the dimensions of which were vague. Presently they reached a bottom from which weird, black, bold walls stood up, ragged of rim against the sky. Jim felt thick grass under his feet. He smelled damp earth; he heard a rustle of cottonwood leaves.

"Hyar we air," called out Hays. "Throw saddles an' packs. Let the hosses go. No fear of hosses ever leavin' this place."

Jim alone heard the chief, and he passed the word back to his nearest follower, and presently the pack-horses stood drooping, gray-backed in the gloom. The riders were not too weary to express themselves after that grueling trip.

"Where'n hell air we?"

"Smells good."

"Dawg-gone! I cain't eat, but I shore can sleep."

"Sparrow, how air you?"

"Alive yet, an' not bleedin'."

In the gloom Jim's night-owl eyes discerned Hays lifting Miss Herrick off her horse and half carrying her off toward the rustling cottonwoods. Jim, making pretense of leading his horse, followed until Hays stopped at the border of what appeared a round grove of cottonwoods impenetrable to the sight. He heard the tinkle of water near and a musical flow farther away and down.

"Oh, for God's sake--let GO of me!" gasped the girl, and sank down on the grass.

"You may as wal get used to THET," replied Hays, in low voice. "Do you want anythin' to eat?"

"Water--only water. I'm--choking."

"I'll fetch some an' a bed for you."

Little did Hays realize, as he strode back to the horses, that Jim stood there in the gloom, a clutching hand on his gun and mad lust for blood in his heart. Jim knew he meant to kill Hays. Why not now? But as before, he had the sagacity and the will to resist a terrible craving.

With nerveless hands he unpacked his outfit and turned the wet, raw- shouldered pack-animal free with the others. Then he sat down upon his bed-roll, exhausted by the physical and mental excess of the last twenty-four hours.

Above him a few rods the men were unpacking, their relief voiced in low talk. Hays passed with a bed-roll on his shoulder. Jim heard it thud to the soft turf close by in the shadow.

"Any wood around this bloomin' hole?" Happy Jack shouted. "It's midnight, but I'll hatch up a snack of grub an' coffee if we can start a fire."

"Darker'n hell," growled Smoky. "An' I shore got a headache. I'd like to meet the hombre who bounced thet bullet offn my head."

Hays returned. He was full of energy and his voice vibrated.

"Plenty firewood," he said, cheerfully. "I'll pack some up, Happy.

Tomorrow you'll see the greatest roost fer robbers in all Utah."

"It needs to be," growled Lincoln.

Jim listened, while he gazed around. He appeared to be down in a round hole, the circular walls of which stood up a hundred or more feet above him. Only a couple of notches, one V-shaped and large, to the west, and another small and shallow to the north, broke the level rim of the insulating walls. The stars turned very white in a dark blue sky. The low voices of the men and rattle of packs and the cutting sound of horses grazing seemed only to make the deep silence more permeating. The place fascinated. An owl hooted down somewhere in a canyon, and far away a wolf bayed blood-thirstily.

Soon a crackle of fire turned Jim to see a growing light, and dark forms of men. Happy Jack was whistling. His cheerfulness was irritating. Could nothing upset him, tire him? Jim waited until he saw Hays pass in the shadow, back to the camp fire, and then he, too, joined the men.

"Boss, any guard tonight?" asked Lincoln.

"Nope. We won't stand guard except in daytime," replied the robber. "Tomorrow I'll show you the lay of the land."

"What kind of a roost is it, Hank? Anythin' like thet Dragon Canyon?"

"No indeed. I seen thet place once. It's a cave high up--forty feet mebbe, from the canyon bed. You have to go up on a pole with steps cut in. But I was never up. Only one outlet to that burrow, an' thet's by the same way you come. This roost has four. We could never be ketched in a hundred years."

"Ahuh. How about the hosses?"

"Wal, you-all know that hosses will travel from barren country.

They'll stick here. We'll never even have to go up on top to find them. Best of pure water--no alkali--an' grass till you can't believe your eyes. I haven't been here fer ten years, but I know it'd never change."

"Any game?"

"Antelope an' rabbits in flocks."

"Jest where air we?"

"I'll show you in the mornin' when we can see."

"Hank, how'd the lady stand the ride?"

"She's all in."

"Gosh! no wonder! Thet was a job fer men."

"Reckon I'll put up the little tent fer my lady guest."

"Say, Hank, do you aim to sleep in thet tent with her?" queried Smoky, who had not spoken before. His tone was peculiar.

"No, if it's any of your mix," returned Hays, after a considerable pause.

"Ahuh. Much obliged. I was jest curious."

"Hank, how'n hell air you goin' to collect thet ransom now?" inquired Lincoln.

"Damn if I know. Heeseman shore spoiled my plan. But I'll make another, an' after we lay low awhile I can work it."

"Keepin' thet gurl hyar all the time?" queried Smoky.

"What else can I do, man? I meant to hang out over on the other side till I got the money for her. But now thet's no good."

"It never was no good, boss. An' if it hadn't been fer Heeseman hot on our trail, I'd never stood fer this."

"Wal, you'll have to stand fer it now, whether you like it or not."

"Ump-umm!" muttered Smoky, as if to himself.

That concluded the conversation for the moment. Happy Jack gave each one a cup of coffee, a slice of cold meat, and a biscuit.

"Wal, thet's better," said Hays, presently. "Now, Sparrow, I'm a- goin' to look after your gunshot."

"Wait till daylight, boss. I'm restin' tolerable comfortable," replied Latimer.

"You know thet's bad. When blood-poisonin' sets in it does it quick. I'll go get my salve an' some clean linen. Stir up the fire, Jack, an' have me two pans of hot water, one of them boilin' hot."

Jim watched the robber chief minister to his wounded comrade.

Latimer cursed, and stuck out his boots to dig his spurs in the ground.

"Thet bullet will have to come out, or your name is cold cabbage.

Tomorrow, mebbe, I can find it. A lot depends on thet, Sparrow.

Bullets in fleshy parts ain't so bad. I've got one in me somewheres. But if this forty-four chunk of lead in you ranged down instead of up, I'm thinkin' you'll cash."

He was cold-blooded and methodical, but his earnestness and solicitude were not to be questioned. While he was bandaging the wound Jim stole away in the darkness toward where the chief had left his prisoner. He did not run great risk of detection because he could see all within the camp fire circle of light, while it would be impossible for any of them there to discern him out in the blackness.

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It was dark as pitch toward the grove of cottonwoods, which were shadowed by the bluff, here very close. The rustling of the leaves and the tinkle of water guided Jim. There was also a first tiny peeping of spring frogs.

At length Jim located gray objects against the black grass. He stole closer.

"Where are you, Miss Herrick?" he called in a tense whisper. "It's Jim Wall."

He heard a sound made by boots scraping on canvas. Peering sharply, he finally located her sitting up on a half unrolled bed, and he dropped on one knee. Her eyes appeared unnaturally large and black in her white face.

"Oh, you must be careful! He said he'd shoot any man who came near me," she whispered.

"He would--if he could. But he'll never kill me!" Jim whispered back. "I want to tell you I'll get you out of this some way or other. Keep up your courage. Fight him--if--"

"I felt you'd--save me," she interrupted, her soft voice breaking.

"Oh, if I had only listened to you! But I wasn't afraid. I left both my door and windows open. That's how they got in. I ordered them out. But he made that Sparrow man point a gun at me. He jerked me out of bed--tearing my nightgown all but off--throwing me on the floor. I was half stunned. Then he ordered me to dress to ride. I ran in my closet. But he kept the door open. . . . He-- he watched me--the unspeakable beast!"

"I saw him pawing you," said Jim, under his breath.

"Yes--yes. He never loses an opportunity. I--I'm sick. I begin to fear this talk of ransom is only a blind. If he robbed me-- which he did--certainly he would rob Bernie. And it takes weeks for money to come by stage. Meanwhile--"

"I tell you to keep your nerve," interposed Jim, with a backward glance toward the camp fire. "But I'll not deceive you. Hank Hays is capable of anything. His men are loyal. Except me. I'm with them, though I don't belong to the outfit. I could kill him any time, but I'd have to fight the rest. The odds are too great. I'd never save you that way. You must help me play for time--till opportunity offers."