The Man of the Forest, Zane Grey [books to read for 13 year olds txt] 📗

he came back he was wild. I’ve

not seen him to-day. He made all the other men but Hal and

Joe stay home on the ranch.”

 

“Right. An’ John must stay, too,” declared Dale. “But it’s

strange. Carmichael ought to have found the girl’s tracks.

She was ridin’ a pony?”

 

“Bo rode Sam. He’s a little bronc, very strong and fast.”

 

“I come across his tracks. How’d Carmichael miss them?”

 

“He didn’t. He found them — trailed them all along the

north range. That’s where he forbade Bo to go. You see,

they’re in love with each other. They’ve been at odds.

Neither will give in. Bo disobeyed him. There’s hard ground

off the north range, so he said. He was able to follow her

tracks only so far.”

 

“Were there any other tracks along with hers?”

 

“No.”

 

“Miss Helen, I found them ‘way southeast of Pine up on the

slope of the mountain. There were seven other horses makin’

that trail — when we run across it. On the way down we

found a camp where men had waited. An’ Bo’s pony, led by a

rider on a big horse, come into that camp from the east —

maybe north a little. An’ that tells the story.”

 

“Riggs ran her down — made off with her!” cried Helen,

passionately. “Oh, the villain! He had men in waiting.

That’s Beasley’s work. They were after me.”

 

“It may not be just what you said, but that’s close enough.

An’ Bo’s in a bad fix. You must face that an’ try to bear up

under — fears of the worst.”

 

“My friend! You will save her!”

 

“I’ll fetch her back, alive or dead.”

 

“Dead! Oh, my God!” Helen cried, and closed her eyes an

instant, to open them burning black. “But Bo isn’t dead. I

know that — I feel it. She’ll not die very easy. She’s a

little savage. She has no fear. She’d fight like a tigress

for her life. She’s strong. You remember how strong. She can

stand anything. Unless they murder her outright she’ll live

— a long time — through any ordeal… . So I beg you, my

friend, don’t lose an hour — don’t ever give up!”

 

Dale trembled under the clasp of her hands. Loosing his own

from her clinging hold, he stepped out on the porch. At that

moment John appeared on Ranger, coming at a gallop.

 

“Nell, I’ll never come back without her,” said Dale. “I

reckon you can hope — only be prepared. That’s all. It’s

hard. But these damned deals are common out here in the

West.”

 

“Suppose Beasley comes — here!” exclaimed Helen, and again

her hand went out toward him.

 

“If he does, you refuse to get off,” replied Dale. “But

don’t let him or his greasers put a dirty hand on you.

Should he threaten force — why, pack some clothes — an’

your valuables — an’ go down to Mrs. Cass’s. An’ wait till

I come back!”

 

“Wait — till you — come back!” she faltered, slowly

turning white again. Her dark eyes dilated. “Milt — you’re

like Las Vegas. You’ll kill Beasley!”

 

Dale heard his own laugh, very cold and strange, foreign to

his ears. A grim, deadly hate of Beasley vied with the

tenderness and pity he felt for this distressed girl. It was

a sore trial to see her leaning there against the door — to

be compelled to leave her alone. Abruptly be stalked off the

porch. Tom followed him. The black horse whinnied his

recognition of Dale and snorted at sight of the cougar. Just

then the Mexican boy returned with a bag. Dale tied this,

with the small pack, behind the saddle.

 

“John, you stay here with Miss Helen,” said Dale. “An’ if

Carmichael comes back, keep him, too! An’ to-night, if any

one rides into Pine from the way we come, you be sure to

spot him.”

 

“I’ll do thet, Milt,” responded John.

 

Dale mounted, and, turning for a last word to Helen, he felt

the words of cheer halted on his lips as he saw her standing

white and broken-hearted, with her hands to her bosom. He

could not look twice.

 

“Come on there, you Tom,” he called to the cougar. “Reckon on

this track you’ll pay me for all my trainin’ of you.”

 

“Oh, my friend!” came Helen’s sad voice, almost a whisper to

his throbbing ears. “Heaven help you — to save her! I —”

 

Then Ranger started and Dale heard no more. He could not

look back. His eyes were full of tears and his breast ached.

By a tremendous effort he shifted that emotion — called on

all the spiritual energy of his being to the duty of this

grim task before him.

 

He did not ride down through the village, but skirted the

northern border, and worked round to the south, where,

coming to the trail he had made an hour past, he headed on

it, straight for the slope now darkening in the twilight.

The big cougar showed more willingness to return on this

trail than he had shown in the coming. Ranger was fresh and

wanted to go, but Dale held him in.

 

A cool wind blew down from the mountain with the coming of

night. Against the brightening stars Dale saw the promontory

lift its bold outline. It was miles away. It haunted him,

strangely calling. A night, and perhaps a day, separated him

from the gang that held Bo Rayner prisoner. Dale had no plan

as yet. He had only a motive as great as the love he bore

Helen Rayner.

 

Beasley’s evil genius had planned this abduction. Riggs was

a tool, a cowardly knave dominated by a stronger will. Snake

Anson and his gang had lain in wait at that cedar camp; had

made that broad hoof track leading up the mountain. Beasley

had been there with them that very day. All this was as

assured to Dale as if he had seen the men.

 

But the matter of Dale’s recovering the girl and doing it

speedily strung his mental strength to its highest pitch.

Many outlines of action flashed through his mind as he rode

on, peering keenly through the night, listening with

practised ears. All were rejected. And at the outset of

every new branching of thought he would gaze down at the

gray form of the cougar, long, graceful, heavy, as he padded

beside the horse. From the first thought of returning to

help Helen Rayner he had conceived an undefined idea of

possible value in the qualities of his pet. Tom had

performed wonderful feats of trailing, but he had never been

tried on men. Dale believed he could make him trail

anything, yet he had no proof of this. One fact stood out of

all Dale’s conjectures, and it was that he had known men,

and brave men, to fear cougars.

 

Far up on the slope, in a little hollow where water ran and

there was a little grass for Ranger to pick, Dale haltered

him and made ready to spend the night. He was sparing with

his food, giving Tom more than he took himself. Curled close

up to Dale, the big cat went to sleep.

 

But Dale lay awake for long.

 

The night was still, with only a faint moan of wind on this

sheltered slope. Dale saw hope in the stars. He did not seem

to have promised himself or Helen that he could save her

sister, and then her property. He seemed to have stated

something unconsciously settled, outside of his thinking.

Strange how this certainty was not vague, yet irreconcilable

with any plans he created! Behind it, somehow nameless with

inconceivable power, surged all his wonderful knowledge of

forest, of trails, of scents, of night, of the nature of men

lying down to sleep in the dark, lonely woods, of the nature

of this great cat that lived its every action in accordance

with his will.

 

He grew sleepy, and gradually his mind stilled, with his

last conscious thought a portent that he would awaken to

accomplish his desperate task.