Читать книгу The X Bar X Boys in Thunder Canyon - Roger Garis - Страница 4
ОглавлениеA Missing Brother
“Ride!” Teddy yelled. “It’s a landslide! Watch out for—”
His words were drowned by a bo-o-o-m! that seemed to shake the mountain to its very base. Teddy wasted no more time in useless explanations. Wisely he gave Flash his head and let the bronco pick his own path down the treacherous incline.
As horse and rider catapulted toward level ground, Teddy’s first thought was for his brother. He turned swiftly in the saddle, and his heart gave a leap when he saw that Roy had disappeared. Frantically the boy peered through the haze of dust which hung over the landscape like a pall, but Roy was nowhere to be seen. Teddy knew it would be hopeless to yell, as he could never make himself heard over the crashing roar of the landslide.
With a silent prayer for his brother’s safety, the rider was forced to use all his skill to retain his seat in the saddle. Lucky for him that he had, as his father put it, “been born aboard a bronc,” else he must surely have been flung to the ground, to be seriously injured, if not killed, by the rocks and trees that were sweeping swiftly down the mountain side, almost at his heels.
Flash, his eyes white with fright, was leaping for safety like some wild animal. Now and then he would give a whinny of terror as a rock landed at his side with a thud. The chances were about even that the boy and his pony would avoid the falling stones. Yet, as each one hurtled by, it seemed certain that the next must strike and send the horse and rider crashing to the ground.
“Stick to it, Flash!” Teddy panted, drawing his hand quickly over his eyes to clear them of sweat. “Another five hundred feet and we’ll be safe—the slide is slowing up! If I could only see—this dust—if Roy is safe—”
The grinding noise to the rear of the boy was gradually lessening, and the hurtling rocks were becoming fewer in number. Still Teddy knew he was by no means safe, as any moment another slide might start and overtake him. And a second slide, piled on top of the already loosened earth, might completely overwhelm him. He must ride, and ride hard, if he wished to place himself out of danger.
Flash’s trip down the mountain was one of breath-taking escapes from destruction. Teddy swayed with him as though he were a part of the horse. Almost automatically, the boy would know when the bronco was going to plant his feet to avoid a sudden drop, and he would brace himself for the shock. Then the pony would slide and leap—slide and leap. On Teddy’s part it was a marvel of horsemanship; on Flash’s part it was a wonderful example of animal intelligence. Frightened as he was, the pony never once made a misstep, never once gave way to his terror and dashed blindly forward. Had he done so it would have meant the end for Teddy Manley.
At this moment the young rancher bore little resemblance to the young man registered as “Theodore Havens Manley, Latin Scientific Course,” on the records of the Hopper Boarding School. His face was streaked with dust, and perspiration had smudged it into a black mask. His hat was gone—swept off by a swishing branch—and his hair was in wild disorder. His clothing was torn in several places by the bushes he had dashed through. He was panting fiercely, and his eyes were sharpened into two points of blue light. From his lips came words that were barely articulate.
“Now, Flash—watch that rock! Stick to it, old boy, stick to it—a little more—yow! That was a close one! All right, baby, you’re not hurt—take it easy now—”
A leap—a swift, neck-jerking halt—slipping, sliding, trying desperately for a foothold—another leap—
Suddenly a yell burst from Teddy’s lips. Frantically he pulled on the reins, seeking vainly to stop the pony almost in midair. The boy’s face paled. In front of him, so close that the horse’s forefeet seemed on the very edge, yawned a deep gully!
“Flash! We’re done for! Ah-h—”
In the second that remained to him Teddy made his decision. It was impossible to stop, the gully seemed to rush eagerly to meet them. There was only one chance—that Flash could clear it, could leap to the other side.
Teddy released the reins. He dug his heels deep into the pony’s sides. And, with his heart in his throat, the boy felt the horse rise beneath him and sail through the air.
For a moment the mount and his rider were silhouetted against the sky like a frantic picture thrown on the silversheet. A moment—then Teddy felt his very bones grind together in the shock of that swift descent. Vaguely he looked about him. Flash, trembling like a leaf, was standing upon a broad plateau. They were safe!
Teddy nodded his head several times, slowly, deliberately, as if to confirm his past thoughts. Then he dismounted stiffly, and putting a hand on either side of the pony’s head, he looked him straight in the eyes. For a second—perhaps two—he stood there, while Flash gradually grew still and breathed easier. When he whinnied softly, Teddy rubbed the pony’s ears and stepped back.
“Finish!” the boy said. Then he laughed, adding:
“Me, I’m going to join the aviation and have you for a plane! Jimminy, what a jump! Let’s see—”
Turning, Teddy walked to the edge. The dust of the landslide had almost settled, and he saw plainly the other side of the gully. It was a great deal higher than the land on which he stood, which difference in elevation was the only reason Flash had been able to make the leap. No horse could have jumped that distance on the level. Even with this drop to aid him, it seemed almost impossible that Flash had done it. Yet there he stood, looking at his master with knowing eyes, and here Teddy stood—safe!
“But where in thunder am I?” the boy exclaimed suddenly. “I don’t remember seeing this gully before. If I could get to the other side again I could probably find my way home, but there’s not a dog’s chance of ever leaping back.” He looked down into the abyss and shuddered. The thought of that tremendous jump was unnerving.
As Teddy walked toward Flash, he felt a wave of uneasiness pass over him, as though an unpleasant thought were hiding in his brain somewhere. His mind leaped forward.
“Roy!”
Where was his brother? What had happened to him? Did he escape? They were both ahead of the slide, surely he could not have fallen! Star could bring him out of it—unless he was struck by a rock!
Teddy hunched his shoulders. He ran his hand through his hair and discovered for the first time that he had no hat on. Then he looked about him, as if he expected to find the hat lying under a bush. The hat—never mind the hat! Roy was gone!
In silence and with a deep frown creasing his forehead, Teddy remounted. Could it be possible that his brother had come to this same gully and, as he had, leaped with his horse to the other side? Teddy cast his eye along the opposite edge. Less than a quarter of a mile away the lip of the gorge dipped down, so that it was level with the plateau on which Flash stood. The meaning of this struck Teddy like a dash of cold water. This, then, was the only place the leap could be made! If a pony tried the jump where both sides were level, he would hit the cliff with his hind feet, while his front feet would paw desperately on the loose earth of the plateau’s edge, seeking madly to draw himself and his rider to safety, then with a scream he would lose his hold—fall backward—turning over and over—over and over—
A groan burst from Teddy’s lips.
It could not be! It must not be! Roy was safe! He had turned to one side and had ridden from under the landslide. Now he was looking for Teddy, wondering what had happened, wondering if Teddy had made it all right. Now he was taking off his hat, rubbing back his hair and muttering something about, “I’ll tell a maverick that was some ruckus!” Certainly he was safe, Teddy argued. Roy—good old Roy—he’d come riding along any minute now and yell across to his brother asking him if the landslide didn’t remind him of the scene in “The Fall of Pompeii.”
But Roy did not come riding along, and the sun was casting long shadows as Teddy rode slowly along the edge of the gorge. Somehow he would have to find his way out of here. He must reach home and send a party out to search for Roy. No, Roy would be waiting for him when he got there! Maybe he would arrive in time to halt those who were about to start after Teddy. If he hurried they might find Roy before it was too late! No, no! Roy was home already!
“Can’t go on like this,” the boy muttered, bending low over the pony’s head. “The thing to do is to find dad as quickly as I can and tell him. He’ll know what to do. But I won’t let mother know—not until we find Roy. Then Roy can tell her. If I could only remember this gully I might reach the ranch without riding all over the landscape.”
He hunched his shoulders again, as another boy might straighten up, and thrust his chin forward. Chirping to his mount, he increased his pace.
The sky above him had turned to a pale blue that was almost white, while to the west, beyond the mountains, a riot of color blazed. Teddy threw his head back as a shrill, hoarse cry of a circling buzzard tore the silence. Then the boy raised in his stirrups and shook his fist fiercely at the winged carrion-eater.
“What do you want here? There’s nothing for you! Search! Go ahead and search, you filthy buzzard! You won’t find anything, I tell you! Roy is home—home! And he and I will come out to-morrow and toss some lead into you! Maybe you’ll like to try that for a change of diet!”
Strangely enough, the bird ceased his ominous circling, and with another scream disappeared over the rim of trees. Teddy sank back into the saddle, his face somewhat red, ashamed of his outburst.
“Must be getting woozy,” he muttered. “Yellin’ at a buzzard! Never did that before. I wonder—”
Suddenly he stopped, pulling the reins taut. Above him, outlined against the eastern sky, was the figure of a man on horseback. As he rode closer, a red beam from the setting sun shot through the trees and illuminated his face like a spotlight. Teddy gave a yell.
“Nick! Nick Looker! Yo-o-o, Nick! How do I get out of here? Where’s Roy? Hey-y-y, Nick!”
