VII. Silvermane

by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

　　LITTLE dew fell on the night of July first; the dawn brightened withoutmists; a hot sun rose; the short summer of the plateau had begun.

　　As Hare rose, refreshed and happy from his breakfast, his whistle was cutshort by the Indian.

　　"Ugh!" exclaimed Piute, lifting a dark finger. Black Bolly had thrownher nose-bag and slipped her halter, and she moved toward the opening inthe cedars, her head high, her black ears straight up.

　　"Bolly!" called Mescal. The mare did not stop.

　　"What the deuce?" Hare ran forward to catch her.

　　"I never knew Bolly to act that way," said Mescal. "See--she didn't eathalf the oats. Well, Bolly--Jack! look at Wolfl"

　　The white dog had risen and stood warily shifting his nose. He sniffedthe wind, turned round and round, and slowly stiffened with his headpointed toward the eastern rise of the plateau.

　　"Hold, Wolf, hold!" called Mescal, as the dog appeared to be about todash away.

　　"Ugh!" grunted Piute.

　　"Listen, Jack; did you hear?" whispered the girl.

　　"Hear what?"

　　"Listen."

　　The warm breeze came down in puffs from the crags; it rustled in thecedars and blew fragrant whiffs of camp-fire smoke into his face; andpresently it bore a low, prolonged whistle. He had never before heardits like. The sound broke the silence again, clearer, a keen, sharpwhistle.

　　"What is it?" he queried, reaching for his rifle.

　　"Wild mustangs," said Mescal.

　　"No," corrected Piute, vehemently shaking his head. "Clea, Clea."

　　"Jack, he says 'horse, horse.' It's a wild horse."

　　A third time the whistle rang down from the ridge, splitting the air,strong and trenchant, the fiery, shrill challenge of a stallion.

　　Black Bolly reared straight up.

　　Jack ran to the rise of ground above the camp, and looked over thecedars. "Oh!" he cried, and beckoned for Mescal. She ran to him, andPiute, tying Black Bolly, hurried after. "Look! look!" cried Jack. Hepointed to a ridge rising to the left of the yellow crags. On the baresummit stood a splendid stallion clearly silhouetted against the ruddymorning sky. He was an iron-gray, wild and proud, with long silver-whitemane waving in the wind.

　　"Silvermane! Silvermane!" exclaimed Mescal.

　　"What a magnificent animal!" Jack stared at the splendid picture for themoment before the horse moved back along the ridge and disappeared.Other horses, blacks and bays, showed above the sage for a moment, andthey, too, passed out of sight.

　　"He's got some of his band with him," said Jack, thrilled withexcitement. "Mescal, they're down off the upper range, and grazing alongeasy. The wind favors us. That whistle was just plain fight, judgingfrom what Naab told me of wild stallions. He came to the hilltop, andwhistled down defiance to any horse, wild or tame, that might be below.I'll slip round through the cedars, and block the trail leading up to theother range, and you and Piute close the gate of our trail at this end.Then send Piute down to tell Naab we've got Silvermane."

　　Jack chose the lowest edge of the plateau rim where the cedars werethickest for his detour to get behind the wild band; he ran from tree totree, avoiding the open places, taking advantage of the thickets, keepingaway from the ridge. He had never gone so far as the gate, but, knowingwhere the trail led into a split in the crags, he climbed the slope, andthreaded a way over masses of fallen cliff, until he reached the base ofthe wall. The tracks of the wildhorse band were very fresh and plain inthe yellow trail. Four stout posts guarded the opening, and a number ofbars lay ready to be pushed into place. He put them up, making a gateten feet high, an impregnable barrier. This done, he hurried back tocamp.

　　"Jack, Bolly will need more watching to-day than the sheep, unless I lether loose. Why, she pulls and strains so she'll break that halter."

　　"She wants to go with the band; isn't that it?"

　　"I don't like to think so. But Father Naab doesn't trust Bolly, thoughshe's the best mustang he ever broke."

　　"Better keep her in," replied Jack, remembering Naab's warning. "I'llhobble her, so if she does break loose she can't go far."

　　When Mescal and Jack drove in the sheep that afternoon, rather earlierthan usual, Piute had returned with August Naab, Dave, and Billy, astring of mustangs and a pack-train of burros.

　　"Hello, Mescal," cheerily called August, as they came into camp. "WellJack--bless me! Why, my lad, how fine and brown--and yes, how you'vefilled out!" He crushed Jack's hand in his broad palm, and his gray eyesbeamed. "I've not the gift of revelation--but, Jack, you're going to getwell."

　　"Yes, I--" He had difficulty with his enunciation, but he thumped hisbreast significantly and smiled.

　　"Black sage and juniper!" exclaimed August. "In this air if a mandoesn't go off quickly with pneumonia, he'll get well. I never had adoubt for you, Jack--and thank God!"

　　He questioned Piute and Mescal about the sheep, and was greatly pleasedwith their report. He shook his head when Jack spread out thegrizzly-pelt, and asked for the story of the killing. Jack made a poorshowing with the tale and slighted his share in it, but Mescal told it asit actually happened. And Naab's great hand resounded from Jack'sshoulder. Then, catching sight of the pile of coyote skins under thestone shelf, he gave vent to his surprise and delight. Then he came backto the object of his trip upon the plateau.

　　"So you've corralled Silvermane? Well, Jack, if he doesn't jump over thecliff he's ours. He can't get off any other way. How many horses withhim?"

　　"We had no chance to count. I saw at least twelve."

　　"Good! He's out with his picked band. Weren't they all blacks andbays?"

　　"Yes."

　　"Jack, the history of that stallion wouldn't make you proud of him.We've corralled him by a lucky chance. If I don't miss my guess he'safter Bolly. He has been a lot of trouble to ranchers all the way fromthe Nevada line across Utah. The stallions he's killed, the mares he'sled off! Well, Dave, shall we thirst him out, or line up a long corral?"

　　"Better have a look around to-morrow," replied Dave. "It'll take a lotof chasing to run him down, but there's not a spring on the bench wherewe can throw up a trap-corral. We'll have to chase him."

　　"Mescal, has Bolly been good since Silvermane came down?"

　　"No, she hasn't," declared Mescal, and told of the circumstance.

　　"Bolly's all right," said Billy Naab. "Any mustang will do that. Keepher belled and hobbled."

　　"Silvermane would care a lot about that, if he wanted Bolly, wouldn'the?" queried Dave in quiet scorn. "Keep her roped and haltered, I say."

　　"Dave's right," said August. "You can't trust a wild mustang any morethan a wild horse."

　　August was right. Black Bolly broke her halter about midnight andescaped into the forest, hobbled as she was. The Indian heard her first,and he awoke August, who aroused the others.

　　"Don't make any noise," he said, as Jack came up, throwing on his coat."There's likely to be some fun here presently. Bolly's loose, broke herrope, and I think Silvermane is close. Listen sharp now."

　　The slight breeze favored them, the camp-fire was dead, and the night wasclear and starlit. They had not been quiet many moments when the shrillneigh of a mustang rang out. The Naabs raised themselves and looked atone another in the starlight.

　　"Now what do you think of that?" whispered Billy.

　　"No more than I expected. It was Bolly," replied Dave.

　　"Bolly it was, confound her black hide!" added August. "Now, boys, didshe whistle for Silvermane, or to warn him, which?"

　　"No telling," answered Billy. "Let's lie low, and take a chance on himcoming close. It proves one thing--you can't break a wild mare. Thatspirit may sleep in her blood, maybe for years, but some time it'llanswer to--"

　　"Shut up--listen," interrupted Dave.

　　Jack strained his hearing, yet caught no sound, except the distant yelpof a coyote. Moments went by.

　　"There!" whispered Dave.

　　From the direction of the ridge came the faint rattling of stones.

　　"They're coming," put in Billy.

　　Presently sharp clicks preceded the rattles, and the sounds began tomerge into a regular rhythmic tramp. It softened at intervals, probablywhen the horses were under the cedars, and strengthened as they came outon the harder ground of the open.

　　"I see them," whispered Dave.

　　A black, undulating line wound out of the cedars, a line of horsesapproaching with drooping heads, hurrying a little as they neared thespring.

　　"Twenty-odd, all blacks and bays," said August, "and some of them aremustangs. But where's Silvermane?-- hark!"

　　Out among the cedars rose the peculiar halting thump of a hobbled horsetrying to cover ground, followed by snorts and crashings of brush and thepound of plunging hoofs. The long black line stopped short and began tostamp. Then into the starlit glade below moved two shadows, the first agreat gray horse with snowy mane; the second, a small, shiny, blackmustang.

　　"Silvermane and Bolly!" exclaimed August, "and now she's broken herhobbles."

　　The stallion, in the fulfilment of a conquest such as had made him kingof the wild ranges, was magnificent in action. Wheeling about her,neighing, and plunging, he arched his splendid neck and pushed his headagainst her. His action was that of a master. Suddenly Black Bollysnorted and whirled down the glade. Silvermane whistled one blast ofanger or terror and thundered after her. They vanished in the gloom ofthe cedars, and the band of frightened horses and mustangs clatteredafter them.

　　"It's one on me," remarked Billy. "That little mare played us at thefinish. Caught when she was a yearling, broken better than any mustangwe ever had, she has helped us run down many a stallion, and now she runsoff with that big white-maned brute!"

　　"They'll make a team, and if they get out of here we'll have to chasethem to the Great Salt Basin," replied Dave.

　　"Mescal, that's a well-behaved mustang of yours," said August; "not onlydid she break loose, but she whistled an alarm to Silvermane and hisband. Well, roll in now, everybody, and sleep."

　　At breakfast the following day the Naabs fell into a discussion upon thepossibility of there being other means of exit from the plateau than thetwo trails already closed. They had never run any mustangs on theplateau, and in the case of a wild horse like Silvermane, who would takedesperate chances, it was advisable to know the ground exactly. Billyand Dave taking their mounts from the sheep-corral, where they had putthem up for the night, rode in opposite directions around the rim of theplateau. It was triangular in shape, and some six or seven miles incircumference; and the brothers rode around it in less than an hour.

　　"Corralled," said Dave, laconically.

　　"Good! Did you see him? What kind of a bunch has he with him?" asked hisfather.

　　"If we get the pick of the lot it will be worth two weeks' work," repliedDave. "I saw him, and Bolly, too. I believe we can catch her easily.She was off from the bunch, and it looks as though the mares werejealous. I think we can run her into a cove under the wall, and get her.Then Mescal can help us run down the stallion. And you can look out onthis end for the best level stretch to drop the line of cedars and makeour trap."

　　The brothers, at their father's nod, rode off into the forest. Naab haddetained the peon, and now gave him orders and sent him off.

　　"To-night you can stand on the rim here, and watch him signal across tothe top of Echo Cliffs to the Navajos," explained August to Jack. "I'vesent for the best breaker of wild mustangs on the desert. Dave can breakmustangs, and Piute is very good; but I want the best man in the country,because this is a grand horse, and I intend to give him to you."

　　"To me!" exclaimed Hare.

　　"Yes, and if he's broken right at the start, he'll serve you faithfully,and not try to bite your arm off every day, or kick your brains out. Nowhite man can break a wild mustang to the best advantage."

　　"Why is that?"

　　"I don't know. To be truthful, I have an idea it's bad temper and lackof patience. Just wait till you see this Navajo go at Silvermane!"

　　After Mescal and Piute drove down the sheep, Jack accompanied Naab to thecorral.

　　"I've brought up your saddle," said Naab, "and you can put it on anymustang here."

　　What a pleasure it was to be in the saddle again, and to feel strength toremain there! He rode with August all over the western end of theplateau. They came at length to a strip of ground, higher than thebordering forest, which was comparatively free of cedars and brush; andwhen August had surveyed it once he slapped his knee with satisfaction.

　　"Fine, better than I hoped for! This stretch is about a mile long, andnarrow at this end. Now, Jack, you see the other side faces the rim,this side the forest, and at the end here is a wall of rock; luckily itcurves in a half circle, which will save us work. We'll cut cedars, dragthem in line, and make a big corral against the rock. From the openingin the corral we'll build two fences of trees; then we'll chaseSilvermane till he's done, run him down into this level, and turn himinside the fence. No horse can break through a close line of cedars.He'll run till he's in the corral, and then we'll rope him."

　　"Great!" said Jack, all enthusiasm. "But isn't it going to take a lot ofwork?"

　　"Rather," said August, dryly. "It'll take a week to cut and drag thecedars, let alone to tire out that wild stallion. When the finish comesyou want to be on that ledge where we'll have the corral."

　　They returned to camp and prepared supper. Mescal and Piute soonarrived, and, later, Dave and Billy on jaded mustangs. Black Bollylimped behind, stretching a long halter, an unhappy mustang with dusty,foam-stained coat and hanging head.

　　"Not bad," said August, examining the lame leg. "She'll be fit in a fewdays, long before we need her to help run down Silvermane. Bring theliniment and a cloth, one of you, and put her in the sheep-corralto-night."

　　Mescal's love for the mustang shone in her eyes while she smoothed outthe crumpled mane, and petted the slender neck.

　　"Bolly, to think you'd do it!" And Bolly dropped her head as thoughreally ashamed.

　　When darkness fell they gathered on the rim to watch the signals. A fireblazed out of the black void below, and as they waited it brightened andflamed higher.

　　"Ugh!" said Piute, pointing across to the dark line of cliffs.

　　"Of course he'd see it first," laughed Naab. "Dave, have you caught ityet? Jack, see if you can make out a fire over on Echo Cliffs."

　　"No, I don't see any light, except that white star. Have you seen it?"

　　"Long ago," replied Naab. "Here, sight along my finger, and narrow youreyes down."

　　"I believe I see it--yes, I'm sure."

　　"Good. How about you, Mescal?"

　　"Yes," she replied.

　　Jack was amused, for Dave insisted that he had been next to the Indian,and Billy claimed priority to all of them. To these men bred on thedesert keen sight was preeminently the chief of gifts.

　　"Jack, look sharp!" said August. "Peon is blanketing his fire. See theflicker? One, two--one, two--one. Now for the answer."

　　Jack peered out into the shadowy space, star-studded above, ebony below.Far across the depths shone a pinpoint of steady light. The Indiangrunted again, August vented his "ha!" and then Jack saw the light blinklike a star, go out for a second, and blink again.

　　"That's what I like to see," said August. "We're answered. Now all'sover but the work."

　　Work it certainly was, as Jack discovered next day. He helped thebrothers cut down cedars while August hauled them into line with hisroan. What with this labor and the necessary camp duties nearly a weekpassed, and in the mean time Black Bolly recovered from her lameness.

　　Twice the workers saw Silvermane standing on open high ridges, restiveand suspicious, with his silver mane flying, and his head turned over hisshoulder, watching, always watching.

　　"It'd be worth something to find out how long that stallion could gowithout water," commented Dave. "But we'll make his tongue hang outto-morrow. It'd serve him right to break him with Black Bolly."

　　Daylight came warm and misty; veils unrolled from the desert; a purplecurtain lifted from the eastern crags; then the red sun burned.

　　Dave and Billy Naab mounted their mustangs, and each led another mount bya halter.

　　"We'll go to the ridge, cut Silvermane out of his band and warm him up;then we'll drive him down to this end."

　　Hare, in his eagerness, found the time very tedious while August delayedabout camp, punching new holes in his saddle-girth, shortening hisstirrups, and smoothing kinks out of his lasso. At last he saddled theroan, and also Black Bolly. Mescal came out of her tent ready for thechase; she wore a short skirt of buckskin, and leggings of the samematerial. Her hair, braided, and fastened at the back, was bound by adouble band closely fitting her black head. Hare walked, leading twomustangs by the halters, and Naab and Mescal rode, each of them followedby two other spare mounts. August tied three mustangs at one point alongthe level stretch, and three at another. Then he led Mescal and Jack tothe top of the stone wall above the corral, where they had good view of aconsiderable part of the plateau.

　　The eastern rise of ground, a sage and juniper slope, was in plain sight.Hare saw a white flash; then Silvermane broke out of the cedars into thesage. One of the brothers raced him half the length of the slope, andthen the other coming out headed him off down toward the forest. Soonthe pounding of hoofs sounded through the trees nearer and nearer.Silvermane came out straight ahead on the open level. He was runningeasily.

　　"He hasn't opened up yet," said August.

　　Hare watched the stallion with sheer fascination; He ran seeminglywithout effort. What a stride he had. how beautifully his silver manewaved in the wind! He veered off to the left, out of sight in the brush,while Dave and Billy galloped up to the spot where August had tied thefirst three mustangs. Here they dismounted, changed saddles to freshhorses, and were off again.

　　The chase now was close and all down-hill for the watchers. Silvermanetwinkled in and out among the cedars, and suddenly stopped short on therim. He wheeled and coursed away toward the crags, and vanished. Butsoon he reappeared, for Billy had cut across and faced him about. Againhe struck the level stretch. Dave was there in front of him. He shotaway to the left, and flashed through the glades beyond. The brotherssaved their steeds, content to keep him cornered in that end of theplateau. Then August spurred his roan into the scene of action.Silvermane came out on the one piece of rising ground beyond the level,and stood looking backward toward the brothers. When the great roancrashed through the thickets into his sight he leaped as if he had beenstung, and plunged away.

　　The Naabs had hemmed him in a triangle, Dave and Billy at the broad end,August at the apex, and now the real race began. August chased him upand down, along the rim, across to the long line of cedars, always in theend heading him for the open stretch. Down this he fled with flyingmane, only to be checked by the relentless brothers. To cover this broadend of the open required riding the like of which Hare had never dreamedof. The brothers, taking advantage of the brief periods when thestallion was going toward August, changed their tired mustangs for freshones.

　　"Ho! Mescal!" rolled out August's voice. That was the call for Mescal toput Black Bolly after Silvermane. Her fleetness made the other mustangsseem slow. All in a flash she was round the corral, with Silvermanebetween her and the long fence of cedars. Uttering a piercing snort ofterror the gray stallion lunged out, for the first time panic-stricken,and lengthened his stride in a wonderful way. He raced down the stretchwith his head over his shoulder watching the little black. Seeing hergaining, he burst into desperate headlong flight. He saved nothing; hehad found his match; he won that first race down the level but it hadcost him his best. If he had been fresh he might have left Black Bollyfar behind, but now he could not elude her.

　　August Naab let him run this time, and Silvermane, keeping close to thefence, passed the gate, ran down to the rim, and wheeled. The blackmustang was on him again, holding him in close to the fence, driving himback down the stretch.

　　The brothers remorselessly turned him, and now Mescal, forcing therunning, caught him, lashed his haunches with her whip, and drove himinto the gate of the corral.

　　August and his two sons were close behind, and blocked the gate.Silvermane's race was nearly run.

　　"Hold here, boys," said August. "I'll go in and drive him round andround till he's done, then, when I yell, you stand aside and rope him ashe comes out."

　　Silvermane ran round the corral, tore at the steep scaly walls, fell backand began his weary round again and yet again. Then as sense and courageyielded gradually to unreasoning terror, he ran blindly; every time hepassed the guarded gateway his eyes were wilder, and his stride morelabored.

　　"Now!" yelled August Naab.

　　Mescal drew out of the opening, and Dave and Billy pulled away, one oneach side, their lassoes swinging loosely.

　　Silvermane sprang for the opening with something of his old speed. As hewent through, yellow loops flashed in the sun, circling, narrowing, andhe seemed to run straight into them. One loop whipped close round hisglossy neck; the other caught his head. Dave's mustang staggered underthe violent shock, went to his knees, struggled up and held firmly.Bill's mount slid on his haunches and spilled his rider from the saddle.Silvermane seemed to be climbing into the air. Then August Naab, dartingthrough the gate in a cloud of dust, shot his lasso, catching the rightforeleg. Silvermane landed hard, his hoofs striking fire from thestones; and for an instant strained in convulsive struggle; then fellheaving and groaning. In a twinkling Billy loosened his lasso over aknot, making of it a halter, and tied the end to a cedar stump.

　　The Naabs stood back and gazed at their prize.

　　Silvermane was badly spent; he was wet with foam, but no fleck of bloodmarred his mane; his superb coat showed scratches, but none cut into theflesh. After a while he rose, panting heavily, and trembling in everymuscle. He was a beaten horse; the noble head was bowed; yet he showedno viciousness, only the fear of a trapped animal. He eyed Black Bollyand then the halter, as though he had divined the fatal connectionbetween them.