XVII. The Swoop of the Hawk

by Zane Grey

　　"JACK! the saddle's slipping!" cried Mescal, clinging closer to him."What luck!" Hare muttered through clinched teeth, and pulled hard on thebridle. But the mouth of the stallion was iron; regardless of the sawingbit, he galloped on. Hare called steadily: "Whoa there, Silver! Whoa--slow now--whoa--easy!" and finally halted him. Hare swung down, and ashe lifted Mescal off, the saddle slipped to the ground.

　　"Lucky not to get a spill! The girth snapped. It was wet, and driedout." Hare hurriedly began to repair the break with buckskin thongs thathe found in a saddle-bag.

　　"Listen! Hear the yells!" Oh! hurry!" cried Mescal.

　　"I've never ridden bareback. Suppose you go ahead with Silver, and I'llhide in the cedars till dark, then walk home!"

　　"No--No. There's time, but hurry."

　　"It's got to be strong," muttered Hare, holding the strap over his kneeand pulling the laced knot with all his strength, "for we'll have to ridesome. If it comes loose--Good-bye!"

　　Silvermane's broad chest muscles rippled and he stamped restlessly. Thedog whined and looked back. Mescal had the blanket smooth on the graywhen Hare threw the saddle over him. The yells had ceased, butclattering hoofs on the stony trail were a greater menace. While Hare'sbrown hands worked swiftly over buckle and strap Mescal climbed to a seatbehind the saddle.

　　"Get into the saddle," said Hare, leaping astride and pressing forwardover the pommel. "Slip down--there! and hold to me. Go! Silver!"

　　The rapid pounding of the stallion's hoofs drowned the clatter coming upthe trail. A backward glance relieved Hare, for dust-clouds some fewhundred yards in the rear showed the position of the pursuing horsemen.He held in Silvermane to a steady gallop. The trail was up-hill, andsteep enough to wind even a desert racer, if put to his limit.

　　"Look back!" cried Mescal. "Can you see them? Is Snap with them?"

　　"I can't see for trees," replied Hare, over his shoulder. "There's dust--we're far in the lead--never fear, Mescal. The lead's all we want."

　　Cedars grew thickly all the way up the steeper part of the divide, andended abruptly at a pathway of stone, where the ascent became gradual.When Silvermane struck out of the grove upon this slope Hare kept turningkeen glances rearward. The dust cloud rolled to the edge of the cedars,and out of it trooped half-a-dozen horsemen who began to shoot as soon asthey had reached the open. Bullets zipped along the red stone, cuttinglittle puffs of red dust, and sung through the air.

　　"Good God!" cried Hare. "They're firing on us! They'd shoot a woman!"

　　"Has it taken you so long to learn that?"

　　Hare slashed his steed with the switch. But Silvermane needed no goad orspur; he had been shot at before, and the whistle of one bullet wassufficient to stretch his gallop into a run. Then distance between himand his pursuers grew wider and wider and soon he was out of range. Theyells of the rustlers seemed at first to come from baffled rage, butMescal's startled cry shoveled their meaning. Other horsemen appearedahead and to the right of him, tearing down the ridge to the divide.Evidently they had been returning from the western curve of Coconina.

　　The direction in which Silvermane was stretching was the only possibleone for Hare. If he swerved off the trail to the left it would be uponrough rising ground. Not only must he outride this second band to thepoint where the trail went down on the other side of the divide, but alsohe must get beyond it before they came within rifle range.

　　"Now! Silver! Go! Go!" Fast as the noble stallion was speeding heanswered to the call. He was in the open now, free of stones and brush,with the spang of rifles in the air. The wind rushed into Hare's ears,filling them with a hollow roar; the ground blurred by in reddish sheets.The horsemen cut down the half mile to a quarter, lessened that, sweptcloser and closer, till Hare recognized Chance and Culver, and Snap Naabon his cream-colored pinto. Seeing that they could not head theinvincible stallion they sheered more to the right. But Silvermanethundered on, crossing the line ahead of them at full three hundredyards, and went over the divide, drawing them in behind dime

　　Then, at the sharp crack of the rifles, leaden messengers whizzed high inthe air over horse and riders, and skipped along the red shale in frontof the running dog.

　　"Oh--Silvermane!" cried Hare. It was just a call, as if the horse werehuman, and knew what that pace meant to his master. The stern businessof the race had ceased to rest on Hare. Silvermane was out to the front!He was like a level-rushing thunderbolt. Hare felt the instantaneouspause between his long low leaps, the gather of mighty muscles, thestrain, the tension, then the quivering expulsion of force. It was aperilous ride down that red slope, not so much from the hissing bulletsas from the washes and gullies which Silvermane sailed over inmagnificent leaps. Hare thrilled with savage delight in the wonderfulprowess of his desert king, in the primal instinct of joy at escapingwith the woman he loved.

　　"Outrun!" he cried, with blazing eyes. Mescal's white face was pressedclose to his shoulder. "Silver has beaten them. They'll hang on till wereach the sand-strip, hoping the slow-down will let them come up in time.But they'll be far too late."

　　The rustlers continued on the trail, firing desultorily, till Silvermaneso far distanced them that even the necessary lapse into a walk in thered sand placed him beyond range when they arrived at the strip.

　　"They've turned back, Mescal. We're safe. Why, you look as you did theday the bear ran for you."

　　"I'd rather a bear got me than Snap. Jack, did you see him?"

　　"See him? Rather! I'll bet he nearly killed his pinto. Mescal, what doyou think of Silvermane now? Can he run? Can he outrun Bolly?"

　　"Yes--yes. Oh! Jack! how I'll love him! Look back again. Are we safe?Will we ever be safe?"

　　It was still daylight when they rounded the portal of the oasis andentered the lane with the familiar wall on one side, the peeledfence-pickets on the other. Wolf dashed on ahead, and presently a chorusof barks announced that he had been met by the other dogs. Silvermaneneighed shrilly, and the horses and mustangs in the corrals troopednoisily to the lower sides and hung inquisitive heads over the top bars.

　　A Navajo whom Hare remembered stared with axe idle by the woodpile, thenJudith Naab dropped a bundle of sticks and with a cry of gladness ranfrom the house. Before Silvermane had come to a full stop Mescal wasoff. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, then she leftJudith to dart to the corral where a little black mustang had begun towhistle and stamp and try to climb over the bars.

　　August Naab, bareheaded, with shaggy locks shaking at every step, strodeoff the porch and his great hands lifted Hare from the saddle.

　　"Every day I've watched the river for you," he said. His eyes were warmand his grasp like a vise.

　　"Mescal--child!" he continued, as she came running to him. "Safe andwell. He's brought you back. Thank the Lord!" He took her to his breastand bent his gray head over her.

　　Then the crowd of big and little Naabs burst from the house and cameunder the cottonwoods to offer noisy welcome to Mescal and Hare.

　　"Jack, you look done up," said Dave Naab solicitously, when the firstgreetings had been spoken, and Mother Ruth had led Mescal indoors."Silvermane, too--he's wet and winded. He's been running?"

　　"Yes, a little," replied Hare, as he removed the saddle from the wearyhorse.

　　"Ah! What's this?" questioned August Naab, with his hand on Silvermane'sflank. He touched a raw groove, and the stallion flinched. "Hare, abullet made that!"

　　"Yes."

　　"Then you didn't ride in by the Navajo crossing?"

　　"No. I came by Silver Cup."

　　"Silver Cup? How on earth did you get down there?"

　　"We climbed out of the canyon up over Coconina, and so made the spring."

　　Naab whistled in surprise and he flashed another keen glance over Hareand his horse. "Your story can wait. I know about what it is--after youreached Silver Cup. Come in, come in, Dave will look out for thestallion."

　　But Hare would allow no one else to attend to Silvermane. He rubbed thetired gray, gave him a drink at the trough, led him to the corral, andtook leave of him with a caress like Mescal's. Then he went to his roomand bathed himself and changed his clothes, afterward presenting himselfat the supper-table to eat like one famished. Mescal and he ate alone,as they had been too late for the regular hour. The women-folk waitedupon them as if they could not do enough. There were pleasant words andsmiles; but in spite of them something sombre attended the meal. Therewas a shadow in each face, each step was slow, each voice subdued. Naaband his sons were waiting for Hare when he entered the sitting room, andafter his entrance the door was closed. They were all quiet and stern,especially the father. "Tell us all," said Naab, simply.

　　While Hare was telling his adventures not a word or a move interruptedhim till he spoke of Silvermane's running Dene down.

　　"That's the second time!" rolled out Naab. "The stallion will kill himyet!"

　　Hare finished his story.

　　"What don't you owe to that whirlwind of a horse!" exclaimed Dave Naab.No other comment on Hare or Silvermane was offered by the Naabs.

　　"You knew Holderness had taken in Silver Cup?" inquired Hare.

　　August Naab nodded gloomily.

　　"I guess we knew it," replied Dave for him. "While I was in White Sageand the boys were here at home, Holderness rode to the spring and tookpossession. I called to see him on my way back, but he wasn't around.Snap was there, the boss of a bunch of riders. Dene, too, was there."

　　"Did you go right into camp?" asked Hare.

　　"Sure. I was looking for Holderness. There were eighteen or twentyriders in the bunch. I talked to several of them, Mormons, good fellows,they used to be. Also I had some words with Dene. He said: 'I shore wassorry Snap got to my spy first. I wanted him bad, an' I'm shore goin' tohave his white horse.' Snap and Dene, all of them, thought you werenumber thirty-one in dad's cemetery."

　　"Not yet," said Hare. "Dene certainly looked as if he saw a ghost whenSilvermane jumped for him. Well, he's at Silver Cup now. They're allthere. What's to be done about it? They're openly thieves. The newbrand on all your stock proves that."

　　"Such a trick we never heard of," replied August Naab. "If we had wemight have spared ourselves the labor of branding the stock."

　　"But that new brand of Holderness's upon yours proves his guilt."

　　"It's not now a question of proof. It's one of possession. Holdernesshas stolen my water and my stock."

　　"They are worse than rustlers; firing on Mescal and me proves that."

　　"Why didn't you unlimber the long rifle?" interposed Dave, curiously.

　　"I got it full of water and sand. That reminds me I must see aboutcleaning it. I never thought of shooting back. Silvermane was runningtoo fast."

　　"Jack, you can see I am in the worst fix of my life," said August Naab."My sons have persuaded me that I was pushed off my ranges too easily.I've come to believe Martin Cole; certainly his prophecy has come true.Dave brought news from White Sage, and it's almost unbelievable.Holderness has proclaimed himself or has actually got himself electedsheriff. He holds office over the Mormons from whom he steals. Scarcelya day goes by in the village without a killing. The Mormons north ofLund finally banded together, hanged some rustlers, and drove the othersout. Many of them have come down into our country, and Holderness nowhas a strong force. But the Mormons will rise against him. I know it; Isee it. I am waiting for it. We are God-fearing, life-loving men, slowto wrath. But--"

　　The deep rolling burr in his voice showed emotion too deep for words.

　　"They need a leader," replied Hare, sharply.

　　August Naab rose with haggard face and his eyes had the look of a manaccused.

　　"Dad figures this way," put in Dave. "On the one hand we lose our waterand stock without bloodshed. We have a living in the oasis. There'slittle here to attract rustlers, so we may live in peace if we give upour rights. On the other hand, suppose Dad gets the Navajos down hereand we join them and go after Holderness and his gang. There's going tobe an all-fired bloody fight. Of course we'd wipe out the rustlers, butsome of us would get killed--and there are the wives and kids. See!"

　　The force of August Naab's argument for peace, entirely aside from hisChristian repugnance to the shedding of blood, was plainly unassailable.

　　"Remember what Snap said?" asked Hare, suddenly. "One man to kill Dene!Therefore one man to kill Holderness! That would break the power of thisband."

　　"Ah! you've said it," replied Dave, raising a tense arm. "It's a one-manjob. D--n Snap! He could have done it, if he hadn't gone to the bad. Butit won't be easy. I tried to get Holderness. He was wise, and his menpolitely said they had enjoyed my call, but I wasn't to come again."

　　"One man to kill Holderness!" repeated Hare.

　　August Naab cast at the speaker one of his far-seeing glances; then heshook himself, as if to throw off the grip of something hard andinevitable. "I'm still master here," he said, and his voice showed theconquest of his passions.

　　"I give up Silver Cup and my stock. Maybe that will content Holderness."

　　Some days went by pleasantly for Hare, as he rested from his longexertions. Naab's former cheer and that of his family reasserted itselfonce the decision was made, and the daily life went on as usual. Thesons worked in the fields by day, and in the evening played at pitchinghorseshoes on the bare circle where the children romped. The women wenton baking, sewing, and singing. August Naab's prayers were more ferventthan ever, and he even prayed for the soul of the man who had robbed him.Mescal's cheeks soon rounded out to their old contour and her eyes shonewith a happier light than Hare had ever seen there. The races betweenSilvermane and Black Bolly were renewed on the long stretch under thewall, and Mescal forgot that she had once acknowledged the superiority ofthe gray. The cottonwoods showered silken floss till the cabins andgrass were white; the birds returned to the oasis; the sun kissed warmcolor into the cherries, and the distant noise of the river seemed likethe humming of a swarm of bees.

　　"Here, Jack," said August Naab, one morning, "get a spade and come withme. There's a break somewhere in the ditch."

　　Hare went with him out along the fence by the alfalfa fields, and roundthe corner of red wall toward the irrigating dam.

　　"Well, Jack, I suppose you'll be asking me for Mescal one of these days,"said Naab.

　　"Yes," replied Hare.

　　"There's a little story to tell you about Mescal, when the day comes."

　　"Tell it now."

　　"No. Not yet. I'm glad you found her. I never knew her to be so happy,not even when she was a child. But somehow there's a better feelingbetween her and my womenfolk. The old antagonism is gone. Well, well,life is so. I pray that things may turn out well for you and her. But Ifear--I seem to see--Hare, I'm a poor man once more. I can't do for youwhat I'd like. Still we'll see, we'll hope."

　　Hare was perfectly happy. The old Mormon's hint did not disturb him;even the thought of Snap Naab did not return to trouble his contentment.The full present was sufficient for Hare, and his joy bubbled over,bringing smiles to August's grave face. Never had a summer afternoon inthe oasis been so fair. The green fields, the red walls, the blue sky,all seemed drenched in deeper, richer hues. The wind-song in the crags,the river-murmur from the canyon, filled Hare's ears with music. To bealive, to feel the sun, to see the colors, to hear the sounds, wasbeautiful; and to know that Mescal awaited him, was enough.

　　Work on the washed-out bank of the ditch had not gone far when Naabraised his head as if listening.

　　"Did you hear anything?" he asked.

　　"No," replied Hare.

　　"The roar of the river is heavy here. Maybe I was mistaken. I thought Iheard shots." Then he went on spading clay into the break, but he stoppedevery moment or so, uneasily, as if he could not get rid of somedisturbing thought. Suddenly he dropped the spade and his eyes flashed.

　　"Judith! Judith! Here!" he called. Wheeling with a sudden premonition ofevil Hare saw the girl running along the wall toward them. Her face waswhite as death; she wrung her hands and her cries rose above the sound ofthe river. Naab sprang toward her and Hare ran at his heels.

　　"Fatherquick--the rustlers!--therustlers! SnapOh--hurry! They've killed Dave--they've gotMescal!"

　　Death itself shuddered through Hare's veins and then a raging flood offire. He bounded forward to be flung back by Naab's arm.

　　"Fool! Would you throw away your life? Go slowly. We'll slip throughthe fields, under the trees."

　　Sick and cold Hare hurried by Naab's side round the wall and into thealfalfa. There were moments when he was weak and trembling; others whenhe could have leaped like a tiger to rend and kill.

　　They left the fields and went on more cautiously into the grove. Thescreaming and wailing of women added certainty to their doubt and dread.

　　"I see only the women--the children--no--there's a man--Zeke," said Hare,bending low to gaze under the branches.

　　"Go slow," muttered Naab.

　　"The rustlers rode off--after Mescal--she's gone!" panted Judith.

　　Hare, spurred by the possibilities in the half-crazed girl's speech, castcaution to the winds and dashed forward into the glade. Naab's heavysteps thudded behind him.

　　In the corner of the porch scared and stupefied children huddled in aheap. George and Billy bent over Dave, who sat white-faced against thesteps. Blood oozed through the fingers pressed to his breast. Zeke wastrying to calm the women.

　　"My God! Dave!" cried Hare. "You're not hard hit? Don't say it!"

　　"Hard hit--Jack--old fellow," replied Dave, with a pale smile. His facewas white and clammy.

　　August Naab looked once at him and groaned, "My son! My son!"

　　"Dad--I got Chance and Culver--there they lie in the road--not bungled,either!"

　　Hare saw the inert forms of two men lying near the gate; one rested onhis face, arm outstretched with a Colt gripped in the stiff hand; theother lay on his back, his spurs deep in the ground, as if driven therein his last convulsion.

　　August Naab and Zeke carried the injured man into the house. The womenand children followed, and Hare, with Billy and George, entered last.

　　"Dad--I'm shot clean through--low down," said Dave, as they laid him on acouch. "It's just as well I--as any one--somebody had to--start thisfight."

　　Naab got the children and the girls out of the room. The women weresilent now, except Dave's wife, who clung to him with low moans. Hesmiled upon all with a quick intent smile, then he held out a hand toHare.

　　"Jack, we got--to be--good friends. Don't forget--that--when you meet--Holderness. He shot me--from behind Chance and Culver--and after I fell--I killed them both--trying to get him. You--won't hang up--your gun--again--will you?"

　　Hare wrung the cold hand clasping his so feebly. "No! Dave, no!" Then hefled from the room. For an hour he stood on the porch waiting in dumbmisery. George and Zeke came noiselessly out, followed by their father.

　　"It's all over, Hare." Another tragedy had passed by this man of thedesert, and left his strength unshaken, but his deadly quiet and thegloom of his iron face were more terrible to see than any grief.

　　"Father, and you, Hare, come out into the road," said George.

　　Another motionless form lay beyond Chance and Culver. It was that of aslight man, flat on his back, his arms wide, his long black hair in thedust. Under the white level brow the face had been crushed into a bloodycurve.

　　"Dene!" burst from Hare, in a whisper.

　　"Killed by a horse!" exclaimed August Naab. "Ah! What horse?"

　　"Silvermane!" replied George.

　　"Who rode my horse--tell me--quick!" cried Hare, in a frenzy.

　　"It was Mescal. Listen. Let me tell you how it all happened. I was outat the forge when I heard a bunch of horses coming up the lane. I wasn'tpacking my gun, but I ran anyway. When I got to the house there was Davefacing Snap, Dene, and a bunch of rustlers. I saw Chance at first, butnot Holderness. There must have been twenty men.

　　"'I came after Mescal, that's what,' Snap was saying.

　　"'You can't have her,' Dave answered.

　　"'We'll shore take her, an' we want Silvermane, too,' said Dene.

　　"'So you're a horse-thief as well as a rustler?' asked Dave.

　　"'Naab, I ain't in any mind to fool. Snap wants the girl, an' I wantSilvermane, an' that damned spy that come back to life.'

　　"Then Holderness spoke from the back of the crowd: 'Naab, you'd betterhurry, if you don't want the house burned!'

　　"Dave drew and Holderness fired from behind the men. Dave fell, raisedup and shot Chance and Culver, then dropped his gun.

　　"With that the women in the house began to scream, and Mescal ran outsaying she'd go with Snap if they'd do no more harm.

　　"'All right,' said Snap, 'get a horse, hurry--hurry!'

　　"Then Dene dismounted and went toward the corral saying, 'I shore wantSilvermane.'

　　"Mescal reached the gate ahead of Dene. 'Let me get Silvermane. He'swild; he doesn't know you; he'll kick you if you go near him.' Shedropped the bars and went up to the horse. He was rearing and snorting.She coaxed him down and then stepped up on the fence to untie him. Whenshe had him loose she leaped off the fence to his back, screaming as shehit him with the halter. Silvermane snorted and jumped, and in threejumps he was going like a bullet. Dene tried to stop him, and wasknocked twenty feet. He was raising up when the stallion ran over him.He never moved again. Once in the lane Silvermane got going--Lord! howhe did run! Mescal hung low over his neck like an Indian. He was gone ina cloud of dust before Snap and the rustlers knew what had happened.Snap came to first and, yelling and waving his gun, spurred down thelane. The rest of the rustlers galloped after him."

　　August Naab placed a sympathetic hand on Hare's shaking shoulder.

　　"You see, lad, things are never so bad as they seem at first. Snap mightas well try to catch a bird as Silvermane."