the Light Of Western Stars (1992) (26 page)

Upon the ascent of the third ridge, which Madeline remembered was the last uneven ground between the point she had reached and home, Florence exercised even more guarded care in advancing
.
Before she reached the top of this ridge she dismounted, looped her bridle round a dead snag, and, motioning Madeline to wait, she slipped ahead through the mesquite out of sight
.
Madeline waited, anxiously listening and watching
.
Certain it was that she could not see or hear anything alarming
.
The sun began to have a touch of heat; the morning breeze rustled the thin mesquite foliage; the deep magenta of a cactus flower caught her eye; a long-tailed, cruel-beaked, brown bird sailed so close to her she could have touched it with her whip
.
But she was only vaguely aware of these things
.
She was watching for Florence, listening for some sound fraught with untoward meaning
.
All of a sudden she saw Majesty's ears were held straight up
.
Then Florence's face, now strangely white, showed round the turn of the trail
.

" 'S-s-s-sh!" whispered Florence, holding up a warning finger
.
She reached the black horse and petted him, evidently to still an uneasiness he manifested
.
"We're in for it," she went on
.
"A whole bunch of vaqueros hiding among the mesquite over the ridge! They've not seen or heard us yet
.
We'd better risk riding ahead, cut off the trail, and beat them to the ranch
.
Madeline, you're white as death!Don't faint now!"

"I shall not faint
.
But you frighten me
.
Is there danger?What shall we do?"

"There's danger
.
Madeline, I wouldn't deceive you," went on Florence, in an earnest whisper
.
"Things have turned out just as Gene Stewart hinted
.
Oh, we should-Al should have listened to Gene!I believe-I'm afraid Gene knew!"

"Knew what?" asked Madeline
.

"Never mind now
.
Listen
.
We daren't take the back trail
.
We'll go on
.
I've a scheme to fool that grinning Don Carlos
.
Get down, Madeline-hurry
.
"

Madeline dismounted
.

"Give me your white sweater
.
Take it off-And that white hat! Hurry, Madeline
.
"

"Florence, what on earth do you mean?" cried Madeline
.

"Not so loud," whispered the other
.
Her gray eyes snapped
.
She had divested herself of sombrero and jacket, which she held out to Madeline
.
"Heah
.
Take these
.
Give me yours
.
Then get up on the black
.
I'll ride Majesty
.
Rustle now, Madeline
.
This is no time to talk
.
"

"But, dear, why-why do you want-?Ah!You're going to make the vaqueros take you for me!"

"You guessed it
.
Will you-"

"I shall not allow you to do anything of the kind," returned Madeline
.

It was then that Florence's face, changing, took on the hard, stern sharpness so typical of a cowboy's
.
Madeline had caught glimpses of that expression in Alfred's face, and on Stewart's when he was silent, and on Stillwell's always
.
It was a look of iron and fire-unchangeable, unquenchable will
.
There was even much of violence in the swift action whereby Florence compelled Madeline to the change of apparel
.

"It 'd been my idea, anyhow, if Stewart hadn't told me to do it," said Florence, her words as swift as her hands
.
"Don Carlos is after you-you, Miss Madeline Hammond!He wouldn't ambush a trail for any one else
.
He's not killing cowboys these days
.
He wants you for some reason
.
So Gene thought, and now I believe him
.
Well, we'll know for sure in five minutes
.
You ride the black; I'll ride Majesty
.
We'll slip round through the brush, out of sight and sound, till we can break out into the open
.
Then we'll split
.
You make straight for the ranch
.
I'll cut loose for the valley where Gene said positively the cowboys were with the cattle
.
The vaqueros will take me for you
.
They all know those striking white things you wear
.
They'll chase me
.
They'll never get anywhere near me
.
And you'll be on a fast horse
.
He can take you home ahead of any vaqueros
.
But you won't be chased
.
I'm staking all on that
.
Trust me, Madeline
.
If it were only my calculation, maybe I'd-It's because I remember Stewart
.
That cowboy knows things
.
Come, this heah's the safest and smartest way to fool Don Carlos
.
"Madeline felt herself more forced than persuaded into acquiescence
.
She mounted the black and took up the bridle
.
In another moment she was guiding her horse off the trail in the tracks of Majesty
.
Florence led off at right angles, threading a slow passage through the mesquite
.
She favored sandy patches and open aisles between the trees, and was careful not to break a branch
.
Often she stopped to listen
.
This detour of perhaps half a mile brought Madeline to where she could see open ground, the ranch-house only a few miles off, and the cattle dotting the valley
.
She had not lost her courage, but it was certain that these familiar sights somewhat lightened the pressure upon her breast
.
Excitement gripped her
.
The shrill whistle of a horse made both the black and Majesty jump
.
Florence quickened the gait down the slope
.
Soon Madeline saw the edge of the brush, the gray-bleached grass and level ground
.

Florence waited at the opening between the low trees
.
She gave Madeline a quick, bright glance
.

"All over but the ride!That'll sure be easy
.
Bolt now and keep your nerve!"

When Florence wheeled the fiery roan and screamed in his ear Madeline seemed suddenly to grow lax and helpless
.
The big horse leaped into thundering action
.
This was memorable of Bonita of the flying hair and the wild night ride
.
Florence's hair streamed on the wind and shone gold in the sunlight
.
Yet Madeline saw her with the same thrill with which she had seen the wild-riding Bonita
.
Then hoarse shouts unclamped Madeline's power of movement, and she spurred the black into the open
.

He wanted to run and he was swift
.
Madeline loosened the reins- laid them loose upon his neck
.
His action was strange to her
.
He was hard to ride
.
But he was fast, and she cared for nothing else
.
Madeline knew horses well enough to realize that the black had found he was free and carrying a light weight
.
A few times she took up the bridle and pulled to right or left, trying to guide him
.
He kept a straight course, however, and crashed through small patches of mesquite and jumped the cracks and washes
.
Uneven ground offered no perceptible obstacle to his running
.
To Madeline there was now a thrilling difference in the lash of wind and the flash of the gray ground underneath
.
She was running away from something; what that was she did not know
.
But she remembered Florence, and she wanted to look back, yet hated to do so for fear of the nameless danger Florence had mentioned
.

Madeline listened for the pounding of pursuing hoofs in her rear
.
Involuntarily she glanced back
.
On the mile or more of gray level between her and the ridge there was not a horse, a man, or anything living
.
She wheeled to look back on the other side, down the valley slope
.

The sight of Florence riding Majesty in zigzag flight before a whole troop of vaqueros blanched Madeline's cheek and made her grip the pommel of her saddle in terror
.
That strange gait of her roan was not his wonderful stride
.
Could Majesty be running wild?Madeline saw one vaquero draw closer, whirling his lasso round his head, but he did not get near enough to throw
.
So it seemed to Madeline
.
Another vaquero swept across in front of the first one
.
Then, when Madeline gasped in breathless expectancy, the roan swerved to elude the attack
.
It flashed over Madeline that Florence was putting the horse to some such awkward flight as might have been expected of an Eastern girl frightened out of her wits
.
Madeline made sure of this when, after looking again, she saw that Florence, in spite of the horse's breaking gait and the irregular course, was drawing slowly and surely down the valley
.

Madeline had not lost her head to the extent of forgetting her own mount and the nature of the ground in front
.
When, presently, she turned again to watch Florence, uncertainty ceased in her mind
.
The strange features of that race between girl and vaqueros were no longer in evidence
.
Majesty was in his beautiful, wonderful stride, low down along the ground, stretching, with his nose level and straight for the valley
.
Between him and the lean horses in pursuit lay an ever-increasing space
.
He was running away from the vaqueros
.
Florence was indeed "riding the wind," as Stewart had aptly expressed his idea of flight upon the fleet roan
.

A dimness came over Madeline's eyes, and it was not all owing to the sting of the wind
.
She rubbed it away, seeing Florence as a flying dot in a strange blur
.
What a daring, intrepid girl! This kind of strength-and aye, splendid thought for a weaker sister-was what the West inculcated in a woman
.

The next time Madeline looked back Florence was far ahead of her pursuers and going out of sight behind a low knoll
.
Assured of Florence's safety, Madeline put her mind to her own ride and the possibilities awaiting at the ranch
.
She remembered the failure to get any of her servants or cowboys on the telephone
.
To be sure, a wind-storm had once broken the wire
.
But she had little real hope of such being the case in this instance
.
She rode on, pulling the black as she neared the ranch
.
Her approach was from the south and off the usual trail, so that she went up the long slope of the knoll toward the back of the house
.
Under these circumstances she could not consider it out of the ordinary that she did not see any one about the grounds
.

It was perhaps fortunate for her, she thought, that the climb up the slope cut the black's speed so she could manage him
.
He was not very hard to stop
.
The moment she dismounted, however, he jumped and trotted off
.
At the edge of the slope, facing the corrals, he halted to lift his head and shoot up his ears
.
Then he let out a piercing whistle and dashed down the lane
.

Madeline, prepared by that warning whistle, tried to fortify herself for a new and unexpected situation; but as she espied an unfamiliar company of horsemen rapidly riding down a hollow leading from the foothills she felt the return of fears gripping at her like cold hands, and she fled precipitously into the house
.