by G. Manville Fenn, author of "Double Cunning," "The Man With a Shadow," etc.
As published in Strange Doings in Strange Places (Cassell & Company, Ltd.; 1890), originally published in Cassell's Saturday Journal.
I.
"Look at him, Frank! Did you ever see such a brute?"
I could not see clearly, for my eyes filled with tears, and if I had not laid tight hold of the mackintosh strapped on to my saddle, I believe I should have rolled off.
"What's the good of your sitting laughing there? We're, goodness knows, how many miles away, and hang me if I wouldn't rather have a clothes horse."
As my companion spoke he raised the stick he carried, and brought it down with a sounding whack on his horse's ribs.
The result was that, instead of the animal breaking into a trot, it stood stock still, turned its head round, and gazed plaintively in its rider's face, and seemed to say-
"Why did you do that?"
"Don't hit him, Phil," I cried, in a choking voice. "Be true to your name, oh lover of horses! It's of no use. The brute has no go in him, and this thing is no better."
"But what are we to do?" he cried, petulantly. "The horses must either carry us, or we must carry them."
"'Another way,' as the cookery books say: get down and lead him."
"What's the good of buying horses to ride, and then having to walk? It's a case of Paddy's sedan chair."
As Philip Lester, my companion in a shooting and fishing trip to the Far North-West, spoke, he slowly dismounted, and I, Frank Long, followed suit, to descend into the powdery snow.
"I say: I have it!" cried Phil, suddenly, as we stood gazing with comical perplexity at our sorry steeds.
"Have what?"
"The Spaniards colonised America," he replied.
"Yes; they played their part."
"And introduced the horse."
"Yes, the horse as we know him; but the geologists say that they find fossil remains of a diminutive kind of--"
"Bosh! Who cares what geologists say with the thermometer down thirty degrees below freezing, an empty stumjack, and goodness knows how many miles to tramp through the snow?"
"You introduced the subject."
"Only to show you that I had discovered the parentage of our nags."
"Who cares about the pedigree of a horse with the thermometer down thirty degrees below—"
"Look here, Frank; even after a good dinner it aggravates me to hear my words quoted in your nasty sneering way, so of course it does now. I only wanted to say that these miserable rips must be descended from Don Quixote's Rozinante."
"Oh, never mind," I said. "Come on."
"Come on it is," said Phil; "but it's rather too bad to find fault with their appearance. I wonder what they think of us?"
"Well, if horses do think," I said, sourly, "they must consider you to be about as ragged and tanned a specimen of the genus loafer as ever they set eyes on."
"Ditto," said Phil; "and talk about dittos, I think those bags of yours are the most disreputable pair I have seen since I went slumming down Whitechapel."
"Yes, we do look tolerably dilapidated," I said, glancing from my companion to myself and back again; "but what can one expect after the life we've had these last three months, climbing, wading, riding—"
"Sleeping in our clothes, roasting in the sun, soaking in the rain."
"And having as good a time shooting and fishing as two respectable young--"
"Respectable!" echoed Phil. "Well, all I can say is that if we walked up the stone staircase in Paper Buildings, Temple, and knocked at the door of our own chambers, old Mother Binstead would slam the oak in our face, and threaten through the keyhole to send for the police."
"Yes," I said. "But never mind; I never felt in better health in my life."
"Nor I; nor yet so hungry."
We chatted on, trudging away the while, with the snow on the rough track sometimes terribly deep, sometimes swept away by the wind; and as we progressed, in spite of uneasiness, hunger, and the heavy labour, we felt in the highest of spirits, and the keen mountain air seemed to exhilarate as we literally gulped it down.
Only a week before, and in the part of British Columbia that had been the scene of our hunting and fishing trips, the snow was high up on the mountains, and in the valleys we were picking autumn berries and revelling in the orange tawny and scarlet tints of the trees as shown up against the background of sombre pines. Then winter had leaped, as it were, from the mountains down into the valleys, putting a stop to our trout fishing, and to some extent to our shooting, though we had ample chances now of tracking the blue-white hares; while the deer and the birds seemed to have grown unaccountably tame.
It was one leap. We lay down to sleep in our tent--formed by a waterproof sheet stretched over a pole, our elastic bed of newly cut spruce boughs forming a couch a queen might envy. Then we woke in the night, thinking it was very cold, and the next morning we crept out into the powdery snow, which was half a foot deep, and flying in a white dust everywhere. We stood it for two days, and then concluded that Nature had given us notice to quit, and that it was our duty to go home. We did take that notice; made arrangements for our truck--as they call impedimenta out there--to be sent somehow to the nearest station--only a hundred miles; put some provisions in our satchels; mounted our horses; and with our rifles across our knees rode steadily through the snow and along the track that would take us to Landor's Ranch, where we meant to sleep that night, and the next day ride across the international line, and make for the nearest station on the Northern Pacific Railway.
All went well till afternoon, and then our horses gave out, and we had to walk.
II.
It is rather a new sensation to be tramping along a track leading a horse--a track that has no pretence to being a road, and with the knowledge that, if you are so lucky as not to miss that path and wander off into the wild mountain land, you may reach shelter, food, and a fire; but if you do miss the track and darkness comes on, and you feel a compunction against killing and eating your horse, you may--
"Don't, old chap," cried Phil, as I was musing aloud, I suppose, something in the above strain; "they say there is no easier death to die than lying down in the snow and being friz."
"But I don't want to be friz," I said; "not until I have sat on the woolsack."
"Better die," he growled," and then you will not be disappointed. I say, as the lady in 'Martin Chuzzlewit' put it, I don't believe there ain't not no such person as Landor. How far is this ranch?"
"Not much further, I should say. That chap said we couldn't miss it if we followed the cañon, and then kept south of the lake till we crossed the mountain."
"Hold hard, Frank, for goodness' sake! My mind is getting so numb with the cold that I can only take in a little of that at a time. I say, this may be British Columbia, but it's confoundedly un-English."
"Why?"
"Not a single pub to be seen. By George, how I should like a drop of beer!"
"Yes, hot, with plenty of ginger in it, and a dash of sugar."
"Don't--pray don't, dear boy," cried Phil. "You are conjuring up glorious visions of sizzling brown steaks, and it makes me so ravenous that--I say, Frank, I'm beginning to believe in there being an excuse for those poor fellows who do a bit of cannibalism in open boats at sea, and--
Click! click!
"Why did you cock your express?"
"Just as a hint to you to keep your distance."
"Don't be afraid, old man," he said; "I wouldn't begin on you till we had finished the horses, and they would last us a week or two."
The sun had gone down behind the mountain, and the huge tamaracks stood up ghostly and strange in their garments of snow. The cold grew more intense, tingling in our nostrils; and my moustache and beard were covered with little knobs of ice; while Phil's aspect can only be described as hoary, when, as night was fast closing in, he shouted back over his shoulder--
"I say, old man, seriously, I'm afraid we've gone wrong. Hadn't we better light a fire under some of those trees, and camp out for the night?"
"Only as a last resource," I said, firmly; and we toiled on more and more slowly, having great difficulty now in getting our horses along. The night came on fast, and the weird look of the snowy forest and rock did not add to our spirits.
"I'm sure we've missed the track, Frank."
"Well, then, it was you," I said, testily; "for you led."
"Well, I do call that cool," he retorted, and then he burst out into a frantic "Hurrah!"
For, on passing out of a gloomy grove of giant spruces, there before us, in a sheltered hollow, was a ruddy light. Soon after there was the loud barking of a dog; then a dark figure stood in a doorway and hailed us.
"Stand!" he shouted. "Who are you?"
The explanations were short, and ten minutes later we were seated on boxes before a roaring fire of pine wood, drinking hot tea, toasting bacon over the embers, and thoroughly enjoying ourselves in company with John Landor, gentleman, and his two cousins, all men who had worn war paint at many an evening party in South Kensington, and who were now ranching and cattle breeding in the Far West, and looking a trio of as jovial ruffians as--well, as we were.
The horses were in shelter and well fed. In good company, too, for a couple of score of their kindred were at the ranch. Then we had a pannikin of bad grog apiece, lit our pipes, talked, played a rubber on a packing case, told stories, and, after as pleasant a night as could possibly be spent, slept gloriously on dry spruce boughs till day.
Then came breakfast on a lovely winter's morning, and our hosts pressed us to stay and do a little shooting, but we had made up our minds to go, and now that we were homeward bound, we felt proof against temptation.
"It's a good sixty miles," said our host-" a long day's journey. Better stay till the snow has gone. We may have another spell of fine weather."
"No," I said; "thanks all the same. Remember, you fellows, the first time you come to England--Paper Buildings, and dinner at the Club."
"Agreed; but, hang it all, man, you are not going to try and go forward on those two foundered jades."
I scratched my right ear and looked at Phil. He scratched his left ear and looked at me; for one, as it was led out, came on three legs, and the other hung its head and waved its tail as if it were a funeral plume--his own.
"They don't look very lively," I said.
Lively, man? It would be madness. They'd break down at the end of a mile."
"They're broken down now," said Phil, dolefully. "What can we do?"
"Stop," cried our host."
"No," said I; "we must go now. Could you sell us a couple of horses? So much and our old ones."
"No, thank you," said our host; "no old ones. I'll lend you a couple of mounts, but they'll be rather rough."
"No, no," I said; "sell us a couple. "Why not sell the two you bought of the Yankees yesterday?" said one of the cousins.
"Don't know anything about 'em," said Landor. "They're a couple two Yankee chaps bothered me into buying yesterday for a mere song. No, I will not take advantage of you to make a trade now. You shall have the horses and leave them at the station till called for. We'll ride over and fetch them after the storm."
Soon after, we rode off, well mounted and thoroughly enjoying the delights of the journey through as glorious a wintry panorama as can be imagined.
"Good- bye!" we shouted.
"No, no: Au revoir!" came echoing back as we waved our hats. Then the forest closed in, and the smoke of the great log hut disappeared.
III.
A long, weary ride, but we were well mounted and well supplied with provisions, so that when evening once more approached, we were in good spirits in spite of fatigue; and when night did close in, the track was clear, the moon shining brilliantly, and we knew that we had only to keep on through the great cañon beside the icy-bordered stream, to reach our destination.
"Hold hard!"
We drew rein, for there was a dull, thudding noise in the snow, and three men suddenly rode out from among the pines, the moon glinting on the barrels of the revolvers they carried.
"What is it?" I shouted; and I involuntarily cocked the rifle I carried.
"Look out, Frank!" shouted Phil; and--there: it was all so sudden that I was completely off my guard. I felt a sudden blow; there was a rush, and Phil and I were prisoners, for four more mounted men closed in from behind.
We had ridden into a trap.
"There," said a thin, ungainly-looking fellow, "I think we did that pretty neat. Any one hurt? Guess not, as no one speaks. Take care of their shooting-irons, boys."
"What is the meaning of this?" I cried, struggling to get free; but in vain, for, in spite of my protestations, I was dragged from my horse, and rendered helpless by a lariat twisted round and round my arms.
"What's the meaning of it?" said the thin man, who seemed to be the leader, and who now coolly lit a cigar, as he sat in his saddle and looked on, the rest of the party having dismounted, and one of them busily examined the horses from which we had been dragged. "You want to know, eh?"
"Be civil, Frank," said Phil in a whisper. Then aloud: "Look here, my lads; what is it? Money? We haven't much. You are Americans, I suppose; well, we are two English gentlemen just coming off a shooting trip. We'll pay up, so let us go."
There was a roar of laughter at this, and I felt my blood boil.
"He's cute, boys. Well; no doubt about it, is there?"
"Doubt," said the man addressed--the one who had examined our horses. "Look yourself."
"I can see. Guess I'd know one o' them horses by the smell," said the first speaker. "Now you two, what have you got to say to this here vigilance committee before you go?"
"I do not understand you quite," I said. "Is there some mistake about these horses?"
"Mistake? Yes, I guess there is; and you and your mate have found out you've made it; but we've got you this time."
"There is no mistake. These horses are the property of Mr. Landor, of Landor's Ranch. He lent them to us, and we are going with them to the station at Pegun."
"No,"said the fellow grimly; "that air ain't the name of the station. Look here," he continued fiercely, "this game's been going on too long, and we swore that the first time we sot hands upon you and your gang, we'd give you quick trial by jury. Guess I'm judge, gentlemen, and I'm waiting for your verdick."
"Guilty!" rose in a deep growl from every one present.
"Then that's sentence of death!"
"Are you mad?" I cried, now thoroughly alarmed. "Man, you are making a mistake. But I will not argue with you. Do you think we stole the horses?"
"No; we swear you did," said the fellow, fiercely "so no jawing. If you want to say your prayers we'll give you five minutes. Pete, shin up that tree."
"Look here, sir," I said, feeling wonderfully cool, to my great surprise; "do I understand you to say that you take us for horse stealers?"
"You bet."
"And that you intend to hang us without taking us before a magistrate?"
"You bet; but I am a magistrate, stranger, and you've been tried in doo form, and found guilty."
"Man, this is an outrage. You are Americans, and this is British ground."
"Very likely, but we've got our horses back, and we've got you. You've lost, and you've got to pay."
"Do you not understand me?" I said, angrily. "You are here upon the territory of her Majesty Queen Victoria."
"Guess you call it so, but I call it Amurreycay."
"Come, sir," I said, "we are trifling. We will not attempt to escape. Take us before any of the authorities at the nearest place, and we can easily satisfy you."
"Jump on your horses, then."
"Have these lariats undone," said Phil. "It is shameful to tie us up like this."
"Ah, it is," said the man, with a half laugh. "Here, boys, give 'em a lift on to the horses.
"We were roughly seized and helped into the saddle, and a cold chill ran through me as I looked wildly from face to face. For there was a ready agreement to my proposal that was suspicious; and as soon as I was in my seat side by side with Phil, I whispered to him--
"They mean mischief. When I say 'now,' in with the spurs and let's ride for it."
"Phil did not speak, but he gave me a look, which was enough, as he turned his ghastly face towards me.
"No, no, stranger; you wouldn't do that," said the leader, with a sneering laugh, for he had placed the right interpretation upon my whisper. "You wouldn't be so mean as to give us the slip, and the trouble of hunting you down again. Why, me and the boys have been a week on your track. We said we'd have you this time if we followed you to the North Pole, and got you we have. Now, boys, no fooling quick and sharp."
I gave Phil a look, and we spurred our horses' sides, making them plunge; but there was a man at each head, and a couple more had a tight hold of our legs.
"Guess you'd better give in your checks quietly," said the leader. "Not going to show the white feather, are you?"
"Look here," I panted, huskily, though I tried hard to be cool; "there must be some among you ready to listen to reason. From what your leader says, you have been on the track of horse stealers for a week."
"That's so," said the man at whom I looked. "I swear to you," I cried, "that neither my friend nor I have crossed the line. We slept last night at Landor's Ranch; he bought these horses of some Americans a day or two ago, and lent them to us to continue our journey, our own mounts being worn out."
"Say, stranger, are you a play actor?" said the leader, sneeringly.
"No," said Phil, sharply; "my friend and I are barristers from the Temple, London."
"You look it," sneered the leader. "Here, boys; we can't stand listening to these ragged Jacks' palaver. Does any one among you say anything why sentence should not be carried out?"
There was a dead silence, and the cold that had chilled me seemed to intensify.
"For mercy's sake, gentlemen," cried Phil, passionately, "don't do this. You are going to hang two innocent people; and, set aside the justice that must overtake you, surely you are men enough to have some conscience. Take us where you like--across the line if you will--but give us a fair trial. I ask you all for justice. Give us a chance to prove ourselves clear."
"'Most done? Guess you ain't said no prayers," said the leader, sneeringly.
"Yes, I have done, curse you!" cried Phil, savagely. "Thank Heaven, I've too good English blood in my veins to go on my knees to such a callous, brutal wretch. It is murder, and if there is law in our land you will suffer for it."
"Ah, we call it justice; but don't make yourselves uncomfortable. I'm thinking of going over to England next fall, and I'll go and call on Queen Victoria at the Tower of London, tell her how we've been wherritted by pesky horse stealers, and that we've saved one of her jedges the trouble of hanging a pair of the raggedest rips that ever loved a hoof."
IV.
I could not keep back a shudder of horror as I felt a lariat thrown over my head and drawn tightly, and looked round to see that Phil was in the same plight.
"The end of our holiday, Frank, lad," he said, bitterly. "Well, we've been good friends, and Heaven bless us both!"
I could not answer him, and as our horses were led beneath the projecting bough of a huge spruce, I gave a despairing glance around for help; but only to see the snow glittering in the brilliant moonlight, the gigantic black walls of the cañon, the flashing water running between its icy banks, and above all the starry sky.
As the horses were stopped, I heard a rustling overhead and glanced up, to see one of the party seated astride the giant limb; while there, with the moonbeams streaming down like a shower of silver upon the group, every figure stood out as clearly as if it were daylight, and each man's action seemed to be stamped upon my brain.
I suppose I was terribly frightened, but, all the same, I watched what went on with curiosity, and did not even start as the ends of the raw hide lassos, whose loops were about our necks, were thrown up to the man astride the great limb, and these he secured tightly, so that at the least movement on the part of our horses we should be left suspended in the air. I gave one despairing glance round, and then felt dizzy, for there was the soft beat of horses' feet in the snow.
"Landor! Help!"
I heard a familiar voice shout--
"What's this?"
There was a burst of foul expletives, and a scuffle; then a pistol shot, and two friendly faces had hold of our horses' heads,
"What do you mean by interfering?"
"Who are you who dare do this? Cut the lariat, lads."
"Curse you! Keep back, or we'll serve you the same," yelled the leader of the vigilance gang. "Run the horses on."
Someone struck at the horses, and they plunged forward, but we had felt a jerking at our necks, for the lariats had been divided, while the next moment friendly hands were hacking at our bonds.
"I say they're horse stealers, and, what's more, I'll lynch 'em."
"I say they're English gentlemen. This is English ground: you are our prisoners."
"Are we? Guess we'll show you different to that. Now boys!"
Crack!
There was the sharp flash of a revolver, whose report went echoing along the cañon, and Landor, our host of the past night, uttered a harsh cry as I saw his left arm fall powerless by his side. He tottered in his seat for a moment, and the leader of the American party pressed forward and struck at him, but at the same moment there was a second flash, and the man threw up his arms, fell from his horse with a dull thud in the snow, and the frightened brute rushed off.
The blood that had been standing still in my veins seemed to leap to my head, as, with my arms free, I pressed my horse's side, and, as I closed with the nearest man, struck him full in the teeth with nature's mace, and he fell from the saddle.
Then I have some recollection of hearing pistol shots, shouts and cries; and I was seated in the snow, supported by Phil.
"Can you find out where he's wounded?"
"Wounded? I'm not wounded," I said, struggling to my feet; "is it all true?"
"True? Yes," cried Landor, heartily; "and we only got here just in time. But aren't you wounded?"
"No, no," I said. I suppose it was from sheer cowardice I fainted."
"Rum sort of cowardice! Why, you've smashed that fellow's jaw."
"But- those men?"
"Made tracks," said one of our new friends; all but that fellow, and I'm afraid he's made his last.
"It was quite true. The leader of the gang was dead--shot through the brain.
That night was passed in a return journey with our friends to the ranch, from which Landor and his companions had started about an hour after us.
For, as Landor afterwards told me—
"We thought perhaps you two might get in difficulties on your road, as the path was so snowy; and as we had to fetch the horses back, and there was nothing to do, we thought we'd come at once. Lucky we did."
"Lucky you did!"I said, fervently."But the horses?"
"Well, I suppose they must have been stolen. I know I bought them innocently enough."
"But that man who was shot? The fight! Will there not be trouble?"
"No," said Landor. "We're a hundred and fifty miles from everywhere, and I don't suppose we shall hear anything more of the mess, for they were in the wrong."
We stayed at the ranch for another month, till Landor's arm was well on towards getting well; but beyond the inquiries of a few neighbours, no more of the matter was heard, and our self-constituted judge was buried in the cañon.