[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Tom Chantry mounted and turned his horse toward the oldSanta Fe Trail . The
trail went north by east, but French Williams knew this country well and he
might drive further to shorten the trail to Dodge.
When he had gone scarcely more than a mile from town he swung from the trail,
but when he had again gone no more than a mile he swung back toward it,
scouting for sign as he rode. But he saw no tracks made since the rain.
He was remembering things his father had taught him.
At the time he had not thought of it as being taught. But on many occasions
his father had often pointed out things along the trail, or told him stories
of Indians and Indian fighting and trailing.
If you re in risky country, he used to say, don t let emset you up.Swing
off your trail, change directions, keep emworried so they can t lay for you.
And study the sign. Watch wild animals and birds, they ll tell you plenty.
Most ofall, trust to your horse, particularly if he s from wild stock. If
there s anybody around, a horse will know it.
His father had never seemed to be teaching, and yet when he thought of it now
he realized that Borden Chantry had said things that counted. If you want to
live easy in your mind, son, he used to say, besure folks respect you.Saves
a lot of trouble.
He was riding warily, alive to every shadow, every suspicion of movement. He
avoided places where a man might easily lie in wait, and several times he
changed direction.
So it was that he glimpsed the pony tracks. They were off his line of
travel, but his eyes caught a certain roughness in the grass and he swung his
horse over to have a better look.
Unshod ponies ... at least six, perhaps more. He knew he was no match for
six warriors of the Kiowa or Comanche tribes. Deliberately he turned his mount
away, back-tracking them.
He had gone no more than a quarter of a mile when he saw where the riders had
drawn up their horses and stayed for several minutes, partly screened by a
thick patch of willows and young cottonwoods. They had all been facing toward
the wall of brush, obviously looking over it. At what? Not at him, for he had
not come that way.
Sitting his horse where they had sat theirs, he looked over the brush and
could see nothing but a barren slope, empty of life.
He found an opening in the wall of brush, worked his way through, and scouted
the slope. Sure enough, he came upon the tracks of a lone horseman who had
ambled along the slope unaware of the Indians watching him from cover.
Tom Chantry back-tracked the rider, and saw that the tracks showed frequent
hesitations, as though the rider had somebody under observation or was
scouting a trail.Suddenly Tom realized the rider had been watching him! And
Page 58
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
now that rider was being stalked by Indians.
Who could it be? Was this the man called Paul? Whoever it was, he now had
problems of his own and Tom Chantry decided to let him deal with them as best
he could.
Keepingto open country, avoiding possible ambush spots, he rode hard,
occasionally veering to confuse any watcher, his one idea being to catch up
with the drive.
The herd s tracks were there, but they were a day or two old ... it was
difficult to tell for sure. Obviously, French was taking advantage of
Chantry s disappearance and was making time.
Tom Chantry was becoming aware of something else. There was movement among
the Indians. He came upon their sign severaltimes, parties riding unshod
ponies crossed the cattle trail, riding east, small parties riding to become
one big party, gathering in the direction to which the cattle must be driven.
Was it the cattle they were after?Or a drive upon the buffalo hunters in the
Panhandle area?Or an effort, a last effort perhaps, to stop the rails?
He slowed his pace. He must not encounter such a party, for if they were
bound for an attack for any of those reasons they would not hesitate to kill
him en route.
By sundown the tracks of the cattle were fresher, and the cattle drive had
veered toward the east, perhaps only to reach a water hole.
Chantry circled a low hill, studying carefully for tracks, and when he saw [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Tom Chantry mounted and turned his horse toward the oldSanta Fe Trail . The
trail went north by east, but French Williams knew this country well and he
might drive further to shorten the trail to Dodge.
When he had gone scarcely more than a mile from town he swung from the trail,
but when he had again gone no more than a mile he swung back toward it,
scouting for sign as he rode. But he saw no tracks made since the rain.
He was remembering things his father had taught him.
At the time he had not thought of it as being taught. But on many occasions
his father had often pointed out things along the trail, or told him stories
of Indians and Indian fighting and trailing.
If you re in risky country, he used to say, don t let emset you up.Swing
off your trail, change directions, keep emworried so they can t lay for you.
And study the sign. Watch wild animals and birds, they ll tell you plenty.
Most ofall, trust to your horse, particularly if he s from wild stock. If
there s anybody around, a horse will know it.
His father had never seemed to be teaching, and yet when he thought of it now
he realized that Borden Chantry had said things that counted. If you want to
live easy in your mind, son, he used to say, besure folks respect you.Saves
a lot of trouble.
He was riding warily, alive to every shadow, every suspicion of movement. He
avoided places where a man might easily lie in wait, and several times he
changed direction.
So it was that he glimpsed the pony tracks. They were off his line of
travel, but his eyes caught a certain roughness in the grass and he swung his
horse over to have a better look.
Unshod ponies ... at least six, perhaps more. He knew he was no match for
six warriors of the Kiowa or Comanche tribes. Deliberately he turned his mount
away, back-tracking them.
He had gone no more than a quarter of a mile when he saw where the riders had
drawn up their horses and stayed for several minutes, partly screened by a
thick patch of willows and young cottonwoods. They had all been facing toward
the wall of brush, obviously looking over it. At what? Not at him, for he had
not come that way.
Sitting his horse where they had sat theirs, he looked over the brush and
could see nothing but a barren slope, empty of life.
He found an opening in the wall of brush, worked his way through, and scouted
the slope. Sure enough, he came upon the tracks of a lone horseman who had
ambled along the slope unaware of the Indians watching him from cover.
Tom Chantry back-tracked the rider, and saw that the tracks showed frequent
hesitations, as though the rider had somebody under observation or was
scouting a trail.Suddenly Tom realized the rider had been watching him! And
Page 58
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
now that rider was being stalked by Indians.
Who could it be? Was this the man called Paul? Whoever it was, he now had
problems of his own and Tom Chantry decided to let him deal with them as best
he could.
Keepingto open country, avoiding possible ambush spots, he rode hard,
occasionally veering to confuse any watcher, his one idea being to catch up
with the drive.
The herd s tracks were there, but they were a day or two old ... it was
difficult to tell for sure. Obviously, French was taking advantage of
Chantry s disappearance and was making time.
Tom Chantry was becoming aware of something else. There was movement among
the Indians. He came upon their sign severaltimes, parties riding unshod
ponies crossed the cattle trail, riding east, small parties riding to become
one big party, gathering in the direction to which the cattle must be driven.
Was it the cattle they were after?Or a drive upon the buffalo hunters in the
Panhandle area?Or an effort, a last effort perhaps, to stop the rails?
He slowed his pace. He must not encounter such a party, for if they were
bound for an attack for any of those reasons they would not hesitate to kill
him en route.
By sundown the tracks of the cattle were fresher, and the cattle drive had
veered toward the east, perhaps only to reach a water hole.
Chantry circled a low hill, studying carefully for tracks, and when he saw [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]