The Boy Ranchers at Spur Creek: or, Fighting the Sheep Herders

"You mean the ones we just had a fight with?"

"That's who."

"No, I don't reckon they did," Dick remarked. "In the first place we licked 'em pretty badly. They scattered, I'm sure, and they didn't head in this direction. And what good would it do 'em just to cut a wire after we'd gotten the cattle away from 'em?"

"Oh, general meanness, that's all," answered Bud.

"They wouldn't do that out of spite and run the risk of being caught – not after what happened to 'em," declared Dick, and Bud answered:

"Well, maybe you're right."

Then they rode along in silence for a while, making sure, as they progressed, that they did not pass a break in the telephone line. The thin copper conductor was intact as they could see.

"They must have gone about half way back – between the creek and our ranch, and snipped the wire there," said Bud, after a period of silence.

"I reckon so," agreed Dick. "That would be what we'd do if we had it to do; wouldn't we?"

"Why?"

"Because we'd want the break to come as far away as possible from either end, to make it take longer to find and mend it."

"That's right, Dick. I never thought of that. Then there isn't really much use looking along here. We might as well ride fast to a point about half way. We'll find the break there."

"No, we don't want to do that, Bud. We'll just ride along as we have been going, and we'll look at every foot of wire."

"But I thought you said – "

"I said if we had to cut an enemy's telephone line, we'd probably do it about half way between the two main points. But we can't take any chances. These fellows may have reasoned that we'd think they cut it half way, and, just to fool us, they may have gone only a quarter way."

"Oh, shucks! If you think onery sheep herders have brains to do any of that sort of reasoning, you're 'way off, Dick!"

"Well, maybe I am, but we won't take any chances. We'll inspect every foot until we come to the break."

And this plan was followed.

It was not until after they had ridden several miles that they saw, dangling between two poles, the severed ends of the wire.

"There it is!" cried Dick.

"Good! I mean I'm glad we've found it!" voiced Bud. "It may be all sorts of bad luck that it's cut. For they may have figured that we'd divide forces to mend the break, and they may take this chance to rush Kid and Snake and get possession of the land."

"I don't think so," remarked Dick as he dismounted to approach the pole and look at the severed wire. "Those sheep can't travel as fast as that, and we'll have reinforcements at the fort when they try to cross Spur Creek."

"But they may send a bunch of Greasers on ahead of the woollies," objected Bud.

To this Dick did not answer. He was busy looking at the end of the dangling wire.

"Is it cut or broken?" asked Bud, for there was the possibility of an accident having happened.

"Cut," was the answer.

"What you going to do?"

"Splice it," was the answer. "That's all I can do now. I brought some extra wire along."

Not pausing to climb the pole and re-string the cut wire, which plainly showed marks of cutting pliers, Dick simply connected one severed end with the other, using a piece of copper he had brought from the shack for this purpose.

"Too bad we haven't one of those portable sets so we could cut in and see if everything was working," observed Bud, when the break was mended.

"Yes," agreed Dick. "We'll have to wait until we get back to the fort to make a test and see if we can talk."

"It's nearer to go on to our ranch," said Bud. For the break in the wire had been discovered more than half way to Diamond X.

"Yes, it's nearer, but we can't take any chances," objected Dick. "We may be needed to help Snake and Kid."

"That's so," agreed Bud. "I forgot about that. We'll go back to the fort and see if we can call up the ranch."

They made better time on the return trip, for they did not have to ride slowly along looking for a break in the wire. On the way they speculated as to what might have happened during their absence in chasing the cattle rustlers.

"All we're sure of is that they cut the telephone wire," said Bud.

"But there's no telling what they may have laid plans for," added Dick. "I guess those sheep men are smarter than we gave them credit for."

"It does seem so," admitted Bud. "We'll have to match our wits against theirs when it comes to a show-down – seeing who's going to keep this rich grazing land."

"One thing in our favor is that we're in possession," said Dick, as he patted his pony's neck.

"But one thing against us – or against dad, which is the same thing," said Bud, "is that his papers proving possession are stolen. And these sheep men seem to know that."

"Yes," agreed Dick, "they seem to know it all right."

They returned to the fort on the bank of Spur Creek just before dark, and, to their delight, found the telephone in working order. For the ranch had called the cabin, Mr. Merkel wanting to know how matters were at Spur Creek.

He complained of having tried several times to get into communication with the fort, and he had guessed there was a broken wire but he had not suspected it was cut. Then, when he tried again, he found communication restored. This, of course, was after Dick and Bud had found and mended the break.

Nort had not yet reached the ranch at the time his father finally found the telephone working. But the need of help was told of over the restored wire, and several cowboys were at once dispatched, not waiting for the arrival of Nort.

"I'll send Nort back to you as soon as he gets here," promised Mr. Merkel.

These matters having been disposed of, Bud and Dick had a chance to ask what had transpired at the fort since they left.

"Jest nothin' – that's all," answered Snake.

"But I think there's goin' t' be somethin' doin' right shortly," observed Yellin' Kid.

"What makes you think so?" asked Bud.

In answer the cowboy pointed across the river. The cloud of dust had settled, revealing more plainly now thousands of sheep. And as the defenders of the fort watched they saw, separating from the sheep, a number of men who approached the Mexican bank of the stream.

What were they going to do?

CHAPTER XVI

STRANGE ACTIONS

Until there was what in law is termed an "overt act," the boy ranchers and their friends could do nothing against the sheep herders who were there in plain sight, with their woolly charges on the far side of Spur Creek. "Overt act" is a law term, and practically means an open act as distinguished from one that is done in secret and under cover.

Thus if the sheep herders should openly attempt to cross the creek, and drive their animals up on Mr. Merkel's land – or land which he claimed – then Bud and his associates could proceed against them, driving them off – "repelling boarders," as Dick expressed it, having in mind some of his favorite pirate tales.

But until the sheep men had done something – had committed an overt act – they could not be molested as long as they remained where they were.

"It's like this," explained Bud, for his father had made matters plain to him over the mended telephone line. "We got to wait until they set foot on our land – or until some of their onery sheep begin to nibble – and then we can start something."

"What, for instance?" asked Dick.

"Well, we can order 'em off – that is, order the Greasers off," replied Bud. "Not much use talking to sheep, I reckon."

"Nor to a Greaser, either," murmured Snake. "One is about as bright and smart as the other."

"Anyhow," resumed Bud, "we can't do anything until they start something."

"Not even if we know they're going to do it?" asked another of the cowboys who, meanwhile, had arrived from Diamond X ready for a fight.

"Not even then," answered Bud. "But once they cross the creek and land here, then we'll begin," and he looked to his gun.

"What'll we do with the sheep?" asked the cowboy. There seemed to be no doubt in the minds of the men as to what they would do with the Greasers.

"We'll have to dispose of 'em," said Bud regretfully. "It seems a pity, too, for the poor things haven't done any harm. But it's either their lives or those of our cattle. The two can't live on the same range, and the sheep have no right here."

"Shoot 'em and drive 'em back into the water if they try to swim across – is that it?" asked Dick.

"Yes, but hang it all!" cried Bud, "I hope that doesn't happen. I sure hate to do it!"

And to give them credit, the others felt the same way about it.

Meanwhile the sheep having settled down to a quiet but fast feeding – which is their characteristic – the actions of the band of Greaser and Mexican herders who had them in charge was eagerly watched by the boy ranchers and their friends.

They saw two horsemen ride down to the bank of the creek at one spot and urge their steeds in. For a time all seemed to go well, but suddenly, when a few yards out in the stream one of the Mexicans frantically called to his companion, who shouted an inquiry as to what was wrong.

Something very dangerously wrong seemed to be the trouble, for the first Mexican was now frantically appealing for help, and a moment later his companion sent his lariat hissing through the air, the coils settling around the frightened man who grasped the rope and leaped into the creek.

But the horse remained in the water, though the animal was wildly struggling to turn and go back to the southern shore, along which the sheep were feeding, some of them slaking their thirst in Spur Creek.

Pulling his companion along by the lariat, the still mounted Mexican made for the shore he had so recently quitted, leaving the lone horse to struggle by itself.

"What does that mean?" cried Dick.

"Quicksands – just what I told you about," answered Bud. "There are a lot of places where the bed of the creek is pitted with quick sands, and this Greaser struck one."

"One did and the other didn't," observed Snake, for it was evident that the rider who had used his lariat had found firm footing for his steed.

"That's it," Bud explained. "You can't tell where the sands are and where they aren't. I happen to know some places that are free," he went on, "but, even there the water is too deep for the sheep to get across, on account of the current."

The two Mexicans, one on his horse and the other swimming at the end of the lariat, had reached the shore they so recently quitted, on what object could only be guessed. Then there was very evidently a conference among the sheep herders during which the excited men who had taken part in the adventure pointed to the spot where the horse was struggling.

"I hope they aren't going to leave that poor brute to suffer," murmured Yellin' Kid, his voice low for one of the few times in his career.

But it was evident that whatever were the faults of the sheep herders they did not number among them too much cruelty to a horse. For when it was evident that the animal could not free himself, a number of the Greasers rode as close as was safe, and tossed their lariats about the animal's neck. Then they began pulling.

But the quicksands had too firm a grip on the animal's legs. He had sunk lower in the stream, and his struggles were less, simply because he was now so nearly engulfed in the powerful suction of the water-soaked and ever-shifting sands.

"They'll never get him out,' said Dick.

"Have to pull his poor head off if they do," agreed Bud.

And this was so evident that the Mexican sheep herders soon gave up the attempt. They dared not even go close enough to the horse to release their ropes, but, casting them off from their saddle horns, had to see them sink down in the quicksands with the poor beast.

For this is what happened. The unfortunate animal, unable to extricate himself from the terrible grip of the sands, being too firmly held to permit of being dragged out, sank lower and lower. The water came half way up his sides. It closed over his back, but still his head was free.

With all his power the brute struggled, but with four legs gripped he could do little more than shudder convulsively. Then as the waters came closer and closer to his head, caused by the fact that the horse was sinking lower and lower in the soft sand, the beast gave a terrible cry – terrible in its agony.

A moment later it was gone from sight forever.

A hush fell upon the assemblage of cowboys in front of the Spur Creek fort of Diamond X ranch. And a hush, no less, came over the bunch of Mexican sheep herders on the far side of the stream. But that the man could leap off and swim to shore, aided by his companion's lariat, the fate of the horse in the quicksands might have been his fate.

"What's going on?" asked a voice behind Bud and Dick.

They turned quickly to behold Nort, who had ridden back from the ranch headquarters.

"What you all looking at?" he asked, for the cowboys were gazing silently at the spot in the stream where the tragedy had just taken place.

They informed Nort in a few words.

"Well," he remarked, "that's the best protection we could have against the sheep coming over – quicksands in the creek."

"The only trouble is," said Dick slowly, "that the quicksands are only in certain places. They can cross safely elsewhere."

"The point is, though," observed Bud, "that they can only guess at those places. And, not knowing where they are, may make them stay away altogether."

"I hope so, but I don't believe it," remarked Snake. "You'll see they won't give up so easily."

Nor did the sheep herders thus forego an attempt to graze their flocks on the rich pasture claimed by Mr. Merkel. It was too late that day to attempt anything more. Night settled down, but with an augmented force of cowboys at the fort the boy ranchers were not apprehensive.

Tours of duty were arranged, so that two or more cowboys would be on guard all night. However, the hours of darkness passed with no further activity on the part of the Mexicans.

In the morning, however, the forces from Diamond X ranch observed strange actions on the part of their enemies.

"What in the world are they up to?" asked Nort, as he and his brother and cousin looked across the river.

Well might he ask that.

CHAPTER XVII

"WE CROWED TOO SOON!"

Not only the boy ranchers, but their more experienced cowboy companions were puzzled by the actions of the sheep herders. It was the period after the morning meal, the smoke of which fires was still rising toward the sky. The sheep men appeared to have slept in the open, with nothing more than their blankets for a bed and their saddles for pillows. But they were accustomed to this, and so were our friends, though they were glad of the fairly comfortable bunk house, or "fort," as they dubbed it.

But all interest was centered in what the Greasers were doing. Some of them separated themselves from the sheep, which really did not require much more attention than that given them by some intelligent dogs, and a bunch of the hated and despised men were approaching the river, carrying long poles.

"What do you reckon they're going to do?" asked Dick.

"Make a raft, maybe," answered Nort. "Though how they can float a lot of sheep over on a raft made of a few bean poles is more than I can understand."

"It would take them a month or more to float the sheep over, one at a time, on a bunch of poles," objected Bud.

"That isn't what they're going to do," declared Dick, after closely watching the actions of the Mexicans. "They're going to leave, that's what they're planning."

"Leave? What do you mean; go away?" asked his brother.

"That's it – yes. They're going to make those dinguses the Indians use trailing after their horses – a pole fastened to either side of the animal, and the ends dragging on the ground. Between the poles they carry their duffle."

"Nonsense!" laughed Bud. "In the first place these aren't Indians, though they're as bad, I reckon. But they didn't come with those pole trailers; so why would they make 'em to go away with? All they own they can pack in their hats."

"I guess you're right," admitted Dick, after thinking it over. "But they're going to do something."

They were all watching the Mexicans now. The men with long poles – which they must have brought with them as none grew in the vicinity – now closely approached the edge of the creek. They could not be going to make a raft – the nature of the poles precluded that.

Then, as one after another of the sheep herders thrust the end of his pole into the water, wading out a short distance to do this, Bud uttered an exclamation.

"I have it!" the lad cried.

"You mean you're on to the game?" asked Dick.

"Yes."

"What is it?" cried the two brothers.

"They're feeling around to find the places where the quicksands are," announced Bud.

"You mean so they can jump in and get rid of themselves?" grimly asked Snake Purdee.

"I mean so they can tell where not to cross," said Bud, though this was unnecessary, since they all grasped his meaning when he spoke of the quicksands.

"I guess you're right, son," observed Old Billee, who had come back to the fort with the return of the cowboys. "They're looking for safe fords and I shouldn't wonder but what they'd find 'em."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," said a tall lank cowboy.

"What do you mean?" Billee wanted to know.

"Wa'al, they may find the places where it's safe to cross – I ain't sayin' but what they is sich places," went on "Lanky," as he was called, "I know this creek putty well, an' I've crossed it more'n once, swimmin' a hoss over an' sometimes drivin' cattle. But th' trouble is sometimes when you find a safe place it doesn't stay safe very long."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Bud, who thought it his duty to learn all he could about matters connected with his father's ranch.

"I reckon he means the quicksands shift – is that it, Lanky?" asked Billee Dobb.

"That's it – yep! A place that may be safe to cross to-night may be the most dangerous in the mornin', or even in less time."

"Oh, so the creek is going to favor us after all!" exclaimed Bud. "If it's as treacherous as that it will keep those Greasers on the far side."

"Not altogether," said Billee. "They may have just enough fool luck to strike a safe place and get over here."

"Well, if they come we'll be ready for 'em!" grimly said Nort, and the others nodded in accord with this sentiment.

Then, as there was nothing else to do for the present, they watched the actions of the Mexicans – actions that were not so strange and mysterious as they had been before Bud hit upon the right solution.

And that it was a correct guess no one could doubt who watched the sheep herders. With their long, thin poles they went up and down the bank of the stream, thrusting the ends into the mud, or whatever formed the bottom of Spur Creek. At times, as I have said, the Mexicans would wade out, perhaps until the water came as high as their middle, in order to thrust their poles farther out into the stream. But when a man thus waded another stood near with ready lariat.

"They're taking no chances on being caught as the horse was," said Nort.

"Right-o!" exclaimed his brother.

The sheep men, however, seemed to find so many places where there were quicksands – or indications of them – in the vicinity of the place just across from the fort – that they soon moved more than a mile down stream. That is, some of them did. Others moved up, the party separating and leaving a few men guarding the sheep.

"As if we'd cross and try to catch any of the woollies!" laughed Bud, motioning to those on guard.

It was late in the afternoon when the survey or test of the creek seemed to be completed. The two parties with their poles came back to what might be called the "camp," and a consultation seemed to be taking place.

In the still, quiet atmosphere the excited voices carried across the creek, though what was said could not be made out.

"They seem to be having a dispute," observed Nort.

And this was evident. One bunch of the Greasers evidently held to one opinion, and a minority disagreed. However, in the end the majority ruled and then, to the surprise of our friends, the Greasers broke camp, leaped to their saddles, and started driving their flocks back toward the south, whence they had come.

For a few moments our friends, watching this move, did not know how to interpret it. But as it dawned on them that the sheep men were "pulling up stakes," and departing, Billee cried:

"We've got the best of 'em, boys! Or, rather, the quicksands worked for us. They've gone back where they came from."

"And I hope they stay," sang out Yellin' Kid.

This was the hope of all, and it seemed likely to be carried out. As night settled down, the mass of sheep and their herders grew more and more indistinct as greater distance was put between them and those holding the fort.

"Well, we'll wait a day or so to see if they don't come back," said Billee, "and then we'll mosey to Diamond X. There's a pile of work waitin' for us there."

"And we'd like to get back to Happy Valley," observed Bud.

"That's right," agreed Nort and Dick.

For the first time since the alarm about the sheep men rest was easier in the fort that night. The danger appeared to be disappearing. The treacherous nature of Spur Creek, with its shifting bottom of quicksands – that might be here one day and a mile farther off the next – had served our friends a good turn.

At least it seemed so, until the next morning. Then, as Billee Dobb arose early and, as was his custom, went out for a before-breakfast survey, he uttered a cry.

"What's the matter?" asked Bud, coming to the door of the fort.

"We crowed too soon, that's what's the matter," answered Billee. "We crowed too soon!"

CHAPTER XVIII

SKIRMISHES

Bud did not need an interpreter to understand what the old cow puncher meant. If he had been at all doubtful, a glance toward where Billee pointed would have solved the mystery.

For, some miles down the creek was a cloud of dust, and, not only a cloud of dust, but that which caused the haze – the sheep and their herders.

"They've come back!" cried Bud. "And just where we didn't expect 'em."

"'Twould have been mighty poor policy on their part to come back where we did expect 'em," dryly observed Billee. "It was their game to fool us, and they did it."

"Then it was all a trick!" cried Bud.

"Reckon it was," agreed Billee with a grin, as Nort, Dick and the others strolled out in readiness for breakfast.

"That poling of the river was all a bluff," said Nort.

"Oh, not exactly," declared Billee. "They used the poles to try to find a place free from quicksands. Not findin' it opposite our fort, they decided to try farther down. Then some smart Aleck among 'em – an' we got to give 'em credit for it – thought of makin' it look as though they were givin' up – retreatin', so to speak.

"That's the way it looked to us, and we crowed too soon, jest as I said a minute ago. They kept on goin', circled around an' now there they are, ready to cross Spur Creek farther away."

"But we can stop 'em there, same as we could here," said Dick.

"Yes, but we got to move our base of supplies an' that takes time," said Billee. "An' while we're doin' that they may make a crossin' – that is, if they can avoid the quicksands. They may even find a ford down there, so the sheep can walk over without havin' to swim." In his excitement Billee dropped most of his final g's, and clipped his other words.

"There is a ford there," declared Lanky, the tall, thin cowboy.

"Any quicksands?" Nort wanted to know.

"That I can't say. The sands shift so you can't tell where they are."

"Well, there's only one thing to do," declared Bud. "Some of us have got to go down there and stop 'em from crossing. This is the first skirmish of the fight."

"We'll come with you," offered Nort and Dick.

"Hold on a minute – don't be rash," counseled Old Billee. "It'll take more'n you three lads to stop them Greasers and the sheep."

"Well, we're under your orders," Bud admitted, saluting the veteran.

"Well then, you three go," advised Billee, "and Snake and Kid will go with you. We'll bring some grub down to you."