"What the hell ... ?" he cried, and then, as he saw the bullet-shattered fiat venomous head and greenish-grey body thrashing about in the long grass only a yard from where he stood, his face paled. "A cotton-mouth!" he gasped. (The moccasin snake, when angry, appears to have its jaws stuffed with cotton-wool.) "Jim, I'm not forgettin' this--ever."
"Shucks," was the reply. "Saw him just in time."
"yu shore did--'nother step an' I'd 'a' trod on him," Sandy agreed, with a shiver.
A careful search of the bank revealed no more reptiles and they had their swim, but much of the enjoyment had gone. As they lay on the warm turf drying themselves in the sun, Sudden asked a question.
"There's a way out at the other end o' the valley," Sandy said. "Goin' ridin'?"
"Thought I'd look around ; don't seem to be much to do."
"We'll be busy to-morrow--the boys'll fetch in a bunch o' cattle--there's plenty mavericks in the brush. I'd go with yu but I gotta relieve Ropey, durn it."
Dried and dressed again they made their way to the bunkhouse, which they found empty, save for the cook.
Having fed, they got their horses and separated, Sandy turning east to set free a man who was eagerly awaiting him, and Sudden heading in the opposite direction.
The exit was easily found, a tunnel-like crack in the rim-rock just wide enough to permit the passage of a mounted man. There was little light, for the cliff overhead appeared to be unbroken and the far end of the opening was masked by a mass of dense scrub. The few tracks showed that this means of entering or leaving the valley was seldom used.
"Takin' a herd o' cattle through would be apt to keep a fella's tongue busy," the cowboy ruminated. "She'd be a useful bolt-hole though."
Sandy had already told him that the nearest settlement on this side of the valley was some thirty miles distant, and that the only habitation of importance was the S E ranch.
"Got a big range, has Sam Eden," the boy had said. "They say he owns a lot o' the land too. Dessay our valley belongs to him, but up to now he ain't served no writ of ejectment."
It was a wild bit of country into which Sudden emerged, a jumble of scrub-choked gullies, flat-topped mesas, ridges of bare rock, and forested slopes hemming in grass-covered savannahs. Every now and then, a fierce-eyed steer would break from a thicket, glare at the rider, and crash back into the brush. Some of these bore the S E brand but more were unmarked.
"Sandy was right," Sudden reflected. "Either Eden's outfit is damn careless or he ain't had a proper roundup in years. He can't holler if someone takes care o' them mavericks."
A little later, as he was riding the rim of a shallow ravine, he heard a startled cry, followed by the beat of galloping hooves. It was a woman's voice and he judged it came from just ahead. A whispered word quickened the speed of the big black and rounding a bend, the rider swore in angry surprise:
"Damnation!"
Along the bottom of the ravine, and only a few hundred yards away, a girl was desperately spurring her pony. A short distance behind, two mounted Indians were racing to overtake her. Sudden pulled up, swung his horse round, headed it for the inclined wall of the gully, and leaned back in the saddle. Nigger knew what was required ; bunching his feet together he slithered down the slope, and took up the chase. The long leaping stride of the black soon began to overhaul the poorer animals in front, but Sudden saw he had no time to waste ; already the foremost Indian had grabbed the bridle of the girl's pony and was endeavouring to drag her from the saddle.
She was resisting, striking at the savage with the butt of her quirt, and fearing that the fellow would do her an injury, he uttered a shout. Instantly the second redskin whirled, dropped his lance, his right hand flashing to the quiver behind his shoulder, and Sudden felt a searing pain at the side of his neck. With incredible speed, the Indian notched a second arrow but ere he could despatch it the white man's revolver roared and the redskin pitched to the ground. His companion, seeing what had happened, abandoned the girl, flogged his pony savagely up the steep bank of the ravine--which it climbed like a cat --and, with a whoop of defiance, vanished over the edge. The cowboy followed, but by the time he reached the top the fugitive was half a mile distant on an open plain. When Sudden returned the girl rode to meet him, a grateful smile on her firm lips.
"Thank you," she said, holding out a slim, gauntleted hand. Then, as her frank brown eyes studied this stranger who had so providentially come to her rescue, she saw blood on the collar of his shirt. "But you are hurt," she cried. '
"On'y a scratch--mebbe," he smiled.
"We'll wash and tie up that scratch," she said, and though he protested, had her way.
When the job was done to her satisfaction and they were in the saddle again, she turned to him with a smile.
"I am Carol Eden," she told him. "The S E ranchhouse is only about eight miles from here and my father will want to thank you."
"Why, there ain't no need--" he began, but she cut the protest short.
"He will think there is, and I agree with him. Besides, there may be other Indians about."
This was an unanswerable argument and again Sudden had to give in; he was beginning to realize that here was a young woman who usually got what she wanted. Riding side by side along the ravine he had an opportunity to study her more closely. She rode astride, cowboy fashion, and was clearly at home in the saddle, her slender form swaying in rhythm with the movements of her mount. Her neat shirt-waist, divided skirt, and riding-boots with tiny silver spurs provided a costume which showed her youthful figure to advantage. From beneath the broad-brimmed felt hat peeped rebellious brown curls which the sunlight turned to copper. He noted the wide-spaced brown eyes, the straight little nose, the firm but rounded chin, and spoke his thought:
"yu didn't oughta be ridin' alone so far from home." For a moment he feared she would resent the remark as an impertinence, and then she smiled. "I know it. Dad warned me, but I thought the Indians were quiet now. you see, I have been East, at college, for some time."
"Injuns is never quiet till they're like--him," the young man said grimly, with a jerk of his thumb backwards. "I'd oughta got that other ; I've a hunch I'll be seein' him again."
"I hope I don't," the girl said fervently. "I'll never forget that hideous painted face. If you hadn't come ..."
To take her away from the subject he mentioned that he too had recently returned from the East, and she looked at him with a new interest.
"Would you care to live there?" she asked.
He shook his head and smiled. "I couldn't stand it," he confessed. "This is my country ; a man can breathe without feel-in' he's robbin' another fella of air ; there's room for all."
"Except the Indian," she said, a little sadlyt
"Why, yo're right," he agreed. "An' it's shorely an odd thought that the time is comin' when, in this vast land, there won't be a place for the men who once owned it all. When the buffalo an' the game have gone, the redskin will follow.
He ain't adaptable ; educate him all yu please an' he's still a savage at heart."
"A case of the survival of the fittest?" she suggested.
"No, ma'am," her companion replied. "The Injun will lie, steal, an' murder, but if yo're his friend he'll die for yu. Some o' the white men who are wipin' him out will do all them things an' sell their own kin for a few dollars. On top o' that, the red man is a healthy hater."
"you rate that a virtue?" she said surprisedly.
He nodded, his face--which when he smiled was that of a boy--hard and grim as granite. The look warned her that she had plumbed hidden depths and aroused her woman's curiosity ; in the hope that he would respond in kind, she went on to speak of herself. He learned that she was not really an Eden, the rancher having adopted her some years earlier, when the death of her father--his old friend--left her unprotected.