Chapter XIII: A Cloud of Dust

Flappings of heels to the flanks of horses, the tightening of reins, firmer seats in the saddles and glances at the heavy revolvers swinging in their holsters at the sides of the riders came as a prelude to the burst of speed which immediately followed the sight of the distant herd of cattle being hazed across the prairie.

"Whoop-ee!" cried Yellin' Kid. "We'll show 'em what's what! Whoop-ee!"

"Reckon you can stand a fight?" asked Nort, looking at the leg of the cowboy, which had been severely injured.

"Shucks, yes! I'm all right now! I'd a leetle mite ruther lick a bunch of sheep herders than jest plain onery cattle rustlers," went on Yellin' Kid, "but anythin' for a fight!"

"You said it!" chimed in some of the other rough but ready and earnest punchers.

"I s'pose there will be a fight," mused Dick.

"Unless they quit and run," said Bud. "You don't mind a little thing like a fight, do you?" he asked his cousin. "Of course not! I was only joking!" he quickly added as he saw a look on Dick's face.

"It won't be the first time we've had a scrap," remarked Nort.

All this while they were riding hard toward the distant group which, at first had been but a cloud of dust, but which now resolved itself into forms of horsemen and cattle.

And as the outfit from Diamond X approached nearer, it could be seen that the drivers of the cattle were not regulation cowboys from any ranch north of the Rio Grande. There was an air and manner about the horsemen urging on the weary cattle which betokened them as irregulars--rustlers, in other words.

The advantage--such as it was--appeared to be with the boy ranchers and their friends, for they were on fresh horses, and could ride hither and yon without having to drive before them, and keep from stampeding, a bunch of cattle. As for the rustlers the success of their raid depended on keeping the cattle they had stolen. Once the small herd got beyond their control, they might as well cut and run for it, since it would be a case of everyone save himself, and every man for himself.

"Some of you cut out the cattle, boys," advised Old Billee, as he spurred along with the youngest rider. For though this veteran more than doubled the years of the boy ranchers, he was almost as "spry" as any of them. "Cut out the cattle, and we'll look after these rustlers."

There were members enough in the outfit from Diamond X to provide for a division of forces--enabling them to execute a flank movement, as it were, though this does not exactly describe it.

"What's the best thing to do?" asked Bud, willing to take advice from his father's able helper. Bud was willing to learn, a most commendable spirit in a youth.

"Wa'al, this would be about as good a plan as any," remarked Old Billee, as he still continued to ride on, but at the same time he was, with his keen eyes, looking over the lay of the land. "Bud, you and your cousins ride off to the left, with Hank and Sam, and see if you can cut out the steers. If you can circle 'em around and bring 'em up behind where we are now--or as near as you can. I'll take the rest of the boys and see if we can't speed up and close with the rustlers."

Bud at once saw that this was giving him and his boy chums, as well as Sam and Hank, the other two cowboys, quite the safest end of the battle. The cattle could be cut out without coming into very close contact with the desperate rustlers. The fight with them would be taken care of by the more experienced Billee and his men.

Bud thought it over for a moment. He was not afraid of danger, but he was not foolhardy, and he knew the veteran had been in many more engagements like this than had Bud himself. Also Bud was too good a soldier to object to taking orders.

"All right," he finally said. "Suits me, Billee. How about you fellows?" he asked Nort and Dick.

With short nods they agreed to Billee's plan, and a few minutes later it was put into execution. The outfit from Diamond X separated, and while Bud and his party spurred ahead to cut out the cattle, the others circled around to make a "flank" attack, as it might be called.

"Here we go!" cried Bud who, naturally, was the leader of the "cutting out" sally.

On rushed the horses, the boys clapping heels to them and "fanning" them with their hats to urge them to greater speed. They were quite close, now, to the band of cattle being hazed away, and on some of the lagging steers could be made out the branding marks of the Diamond X ranch.

"Those are ours all right!" cried Bud to his cousins.

"And we'll have 'em back soon," added Dick.

"We'd better begin shooting," called out Hank, one of the two cowboys who had been assigned to duty with Bud.

This was not as serious as it sounds, for the shots were not to be directed at the rustlers but fired in the air to startle the cattle. In cutting out, or, rather, in separating from those who had stolen them the steers from Diamond X, it was necessary to get the animals on the run. They could then more easily be driven where they were wanted.

By this time, of course, the rustlers knew they were in danger not only of losing their ill-gotten cattle, but of losing their own freedom and perhaps their lives. They could be arrested and sent to jail for theft if they were caught.

For a few minutes after the pursuit became close, the rustlers made an attempt to get the cattle into one of the many small valleys with which the country around there abounded. But they soon saw that it was a losing fight. The animals were too wearied to be driven at much speed.

Then some order seemed to have been given by the leader of the rustlers, for the nondescript bunch of cattle thieves swung off, and practically abandoned their four-footed charges.

This made it easier for the boy ranchers, though the task of urging the cattle away from the line they were traveling was hard enough at best.

"Come on!" yelled Bud, when he saw what was happening. "We've got 'em going!"

This was true, as regarded the rustlers. They were about to save themselves if they could.

With drawn guns, firing rapidly and yelling as loudly as they could, the boy ranchers rode in among the frightened steers, endeavoring to turn them off to the right. For a moment it seemed as if they were not going to do this, but eventually their tactics succeeded, and the leaders of the herd swung off. Then the others followed and it was now a comparatively easy matter to drive them along where it was desired they should go.

"Poor things!" murmured Dick sympathetically, as he saw the weary cattle. "We'll have to let 'em rest, Bud."

"Guess you're right," agreed the son of the Diamond X owner. "They won't be much good for shipping to market until they get some fat back on their bones." Many of the cattle were in woeful shape, and all suffered from lack of water, since the rustlers had driven them so hard, endeavoring to get far away with them as soon as possible that they had not stopped to water them.

"There's a little stream over there," announced Sam, one of the cowboys who knew this part of the country well. "We can haze 'em over there and keep 'em for a while."

This was considered the best thing to do, and soon the weary cattle were drinking their first water in many hours. Afterward they all lay down to rest, not even eating until some of the weariness had passed.

Meanwhile the cowboys under Old Billee had come to close quarters with the rustlers and the fight started immediately. There was nothing unusual about it, the rustlers merely desiring to get away and the outfit from Diamond X wishing to capture them to make them pay for their lawlessness.

One rustler was captured, for he was so wounded that he fell from his horse. The others got away, one badly hurt, it seemed, for he had to be taken in charge by one of his companions who lifted him to his own saddle.

As for Billee and his forces, they suffered somewhat, two of the cowboys being painfully wounded by bullets. But, on the whole, the affair ended much better than might have been expected. The stolen cattle had been recovered, in as good condition as could be hoped for, and the rustlers had been driven off, with the exception of the wounded one.

It was planned to take him to the nearest jail, but this trouble was obviated for the man died in the night.

Riding back after having driven off the rustlers, Billee and his men found the cattle quietly resting, while Bud and his friends were doing likewise, as they had ridden hard.

"We'll camp here for the night," decided Billee. "Too bad there isn't a telephone here that we could use to send word back to your dad, Bud. But we can't have everything."

"No," agreed Yellin' Kid with a chuckle. "I'd like a room an' a bath with plenty of hot water, but I don't see any growin' on no trees around here!"

However, the cowboys were used to this sort of life and they counted it no unusual hardship. A fire was made, those who had been scarred by bullets were looked after and then the ever-welcome "grub" was served.

The next day, after the hasty burial of the dead rustler, on whom little sympathy was wasted, and concerning whose identity no one cared much, the march back to Diamond X was begun, the cattle being slowly driven toward their former pasture. As not all the cowboys were needed for this, a sufficient number were told off by Billee, and the remainder, including the boy ranchers, made better speed back to headquarters.

There the news of the successful chase after the rustlers was received with satisfaction, and Mr. Merkel said he hoped it would be a lesson to other thieves.

"I wish we could give the same sort of lesson to any sheep herders that might be around here," remarked Bud.

"That's so," said his father. "And perhaps you'd better be getting back to Spur Creek. No telling what might have happened while you've been away. We didn't leave anyone on guard."

"I don't know as it was necessary," said Bud. "But, all the same, we'd better get back."

They made the start early the next morning--the boy ranchers, with Yellin' Kid and Snake, and there was the promise of more cowboys to help them hold the "fort" should it be considered necessary.

"Well, everything seems to be all right," remarked Bud as he and his party rode up to the shack on the edge of the stream. "No signs of the sheep yet."

"And no smell, either," chuckled Yellin' Kid, as he sniffed the air.

"It takes the perfesser for that!" said Snake with a laugh.

"I wonder what Professor Wright is doing?" said Nort.

"Oh, digging up a lot of old bones, I reckon," Bud answered. "But let's get grub and rest. I'm tired."

The events of the past few days had been strenuous enough to make them all welcome a period of rest. And they had it, for a few hours. And then something occurred to start a series of happenings that lasted and created excitement for some time.

It was toward the middle of the afternoon when Nort, who had gone down the stream a little way, looked across Spur Creek and saw hanging in the hazy air a cloud of dust.

"Wonder if that's a wind storm," he mused. But as there was not a sign of vapor in the clear blue sky he gave up that theory. "Guess I'd better let 'em know," he thought, turning back toward the fort.

And when the others came out to look at the cloud of dust, on the Mexican side of the river--a cloud which had grown larger--Bud exclaimed:

"Sheep, I'll bet a hat!"