the last of the plainsmen-第8章

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he　rear。　Kentuck；　keen　to　his　work；　crept　on　like　a　wolf；　and　the　hunter's　great　fist　clenched　the　coiled　lasso。　Before　him　expanded　a　boundless　plain。　A　situation　long　cherished　and　dreamed　of　had　become　a　reality。　Kentuck；　fresh　and　strong；　was　good　for　all　day。　Jones　gloated　over　the　little　red　bulls　and　heifers；　as　a　miser　gloats　over　gold　and　jewels。　Never　before　had　he　caught　more　than　two　in　one　day；　and　often　it　had　taken　days　to　capture　one。　This　was　the　last　herd；　this　the　last　opportunity　toward　perpetuating　a　grand　race　of　beasts。　And　with　born　instinct　he　saw　ahead　the　day　of　his　life。

At　a　touch；　Kentuck　closed　in；　and　the　buffalo；　seeing　him；　stampeded　into　the　heaving　roll　so　well　known　to　the　hunter。　Racing　on　the　right　flank　of　the　herd；　Jones　selected　a　tawny　heifer　and　shot　the　lariat　after　her。　It　fell　true；　but　being　stiff　and　kinky　from　the　sleet；　failed　to　tighten；　and　the　quick　calf　leaped　through　the　loop　to　freedom。

Undismayed　the　pursuer　quickly　recovered　his　rope。　Again　he　whirled　and　sent　the　loop。　Again　it　circled　true；　and　failed　to　close；　again　the　agile　heifer　bounded　through　it。　Jones　whipped　the　air　with　the　stubborn　rope。　To　lose　a　chance　like　that　was　worse　than　boy's　work。

The　third　whirl；　running　a　smaller　loop；　tightened　the　coil　round　the　frightened　calf　just　back　of　its　ears。　A　pull　on　the　bridle　brought　Kentuck　to　a　halt　in　his　tracks；　and　the　baby　buffalo　rolled　over　and　over　in　the　grass。　Jones　bounced　from　his　seat　and　jerked　loose　a　couple　of　the　soft　cords。　In　a　twinkling；　his　big　knee　crushed　down　on　the　calf；　and　his　big　hands　bound　it　helpless。

Kentuck　neighed。　Jones　saw　his　black　ears　go　up。　Danger　threatened。　For　a　moment　the　hunter's　blood　turned　chill；　not　from　fear；　for　he　never　felt　fear；　but　because　he　thought　the　Indians　were　returning　to　ruin　his　work。　His　eye　swept　the　plain。　Only　the　gray　forms　of　wolves　flitted　through　the　grass；　here；　there；　all　about　him。　Wolves！　They　were　as　fatal　to　his　enterprise　as　savages。　A　trooping　pack　of　prairie　wolves　had　fallen　in　with　the　herd　and　hung　close　on　the　trail；　trying　to　cut　a　calf　away　from　its　mother。　The　gray　brutes　boldly　trotted　to　within　a　few　yards　of　him；　and　slyly　looked　at　him；　with　pale；　fiery　eyes。　They　had　already　scented　his　captive。　Precious　time　flew　by；　the　situation；　critical　and　baffling；　had　never　before　been　met　by　him。　There　lay　his　little　calf　tied　fast；　and　to　the　north　ran　many　others；　some　of　which　he　musthe　would　have。　To　think　quickly　had　meant　the　solving　of　many　a　plainsman's　problem。　Should　he　stay　with　his　prize　to　save　it；　or　leave　it　to　be　devoured？

〃Ha！　you　old　gray　devils！〃　he　yelled；　shaking　his　fist　at　the　wolves。　〃I　know　a　trick　or　two。〃　Slipping　his　hat　between　the　legs　of　the　calf；　he　fastened　it　securely。　This　done；　he　vaulted　on　Kentuck；　and　was　off　with　never　a　backward　glance。　Certain　it　was　that　the　wolves　would　not　touch　anything；　alive　or　dead；　that　bore　the　scent　of　a　human　being。

The　bison　scoured　away　a　long　half…mile　in　the　lead；　sailing　northward　like　a　cloud…shadow　over　the　plain。　Kentuck；　mettlesome；　over…eager；　would　have　run　himself　out　in　short　order；　but　the　wary　hunter；　strong　to　restrain　as　well　as　impel；　with　the　long　day　in　his　mind；　kept　the　steed　in　his　easy　stride；　which；　springy　and　stretching；　overhauled　the　herd　in　the　course　of　several　miles。

A　dash；　a　swirl；　a　shock；　a　leap；　horse　and　hunter　working　in　perfect　accord；　and　a　fine　big　calf；　bellowing　lustily；　struggled　desperately　for　freedom　under　the　remorseless　knee。　The　big　hands　toyed　with　him；　and　then；　secure　in　the　double　knots；　the　calf　lay　still；　sticking　out　his　tongue　and　rolling　his　eyes；　with　the　coat　of　the　hunter　tucked　under　his　bonds　to　keep　away　the　wolves。

The　race　had　but　begun；　the　horse　had　but　warmed　to　his　work；　the　hunter　had　but　tasted　of　sweet　triumph。　Another　hopeful　of　a　buffalo　mother；　negligent　in　danger；　truant　from　his　brothers；　stumbled　and　fell　in　the　enmeshing　loop。　The　hunter's　vest；　slipped　over　the　calf's　neck；　served　as　danger　signal　to　the　wolves。　Before　the　lumbering　buffalo　missed　their　loss；　another　red　and　black　baby　kicked　helplessly　on　the　grass　and　sent　up　vain；　weak　calls；　and　at　last　lay　still；　with　the　hunter's　boot　tied　to　his　cords。

Four！　Jones　counted　them　aloud；　add　in　his　mind；　and　kept　on。　Fast；　hard　work；　covering　upward　of　fifteen　miles；　had　begun　to　tell　on　herd；　horse　and　man；　and　all　slowed　down　to　the　call　for　strength。　The　fifth　time　Jones　closed　in　on　his　game；　he　encountered　different　circumstances　such　as　called　forth　his　cunning。

The　herd　had　opened　up；　the　mothers　had　fallen　back　to　the　rear；　the　calves　hung　almost　out　of　sight　under　the　shaggy　sides　of　protectors。　To　try　them　out　Jones　darted　close　and　threw　his　lasso。　It　struck　a　cow。　With　activity　incredible　in　such　a　huge　beast；　she　lunged　at　him。　Kentuck；　expecting　just　such　a　move；　wheeled　to　safety。　This　duel；　ineffectual　on　both　sides；　kept　up　for　a　while；　and　all　the　time；　man　and　herd　were　jogging　rapidly　to　the　north。

Jones　could　not　let　well　enough　alone；　he　acknowledged　this　even　as　he　swore　he　must　have　five。　Emboldened　by　his　marvelous　luck；　and　yielding　headlong　to　the　passion　within；　he　threw　caution　to　the　winds。　A　lame　old　cow　with　a　red　calf　caught　his　eye；　in　he　spurred　his　willing　horse　and　slung　his　rope。　It　stung　the　haunch　of　the　mother。　The　mad　grunt　she　vented　was　no　quicker　than　the　velocity　with　which　she　plunged　and　reared。　Jones　had　but　time　to　swing　his　leg　over　the　saddle　when　the　hoofs　beat　down。　Kentuck　rolled　on　the　plain；　flinging　his　rider　from　him。　The　infuriated　buffalo　lowered　her　head　for　the　fatal　charge　on　the　horse；　when　the　plainsman；　jerking　out　his　heavy　Colts；　shot　her　dead　in　her　tracks。

Kentuck　got　to　his　feet　unhurt；　and　stood　his　ground；　quivering　but　ready；　showing　his　steadfast　courage。　He　showed　more；　for　his　ears　lay　back；　and　his　eyes　had　the　gleam　of　the　animal　that　strikes　back。

The　calf　ran　round　its　mother。　Jones　lassoed　it；　and　tied　it　down；　being　compelled　to　cut　a　piece　from　his　lasso；　as　the　cords　on　the　saddle　had　given　out。　He　left　his　other　boot　with　baby　number　five。　The　still　heaving；　smoking　body　of　the　victim　called　forth　the　stern；　intrepid　hunter's　pity　for　a　moment。　Spill　of　blood　he　had　not　wanted。　But　he　had　not　been　able　to　avoid　it；　and　mounting　again　with　close…shut　jaw　and　smoldering　eye；　he　galloped　to　the　north。

Kentuck　snorted；　the　pursuing　wolves　shied　off　in　the　grass；　the　pale　sun　began　to　slant　westward。　The　cold　iron　stirrups　froze　and　cut　the　hunter's　bootless　feet。

When　once　more　he　came　hounding　the　buffalo；　they　were　considerably　winded。　Short…tufted　tails；　raised　stiffly；　gave　warning。　Snorts；　like　puffs　of　escaping　steam；　and　deep　grunts　from　cavernous　chests　evinced　anger　and　impatience　that　might；　at　any　moment；　bring　the　herd　to　a　defiant　stand。

He　whizzed　the　shortened　noose　over　the　head　of　a　calf　that　was　laboring　painfully　to　keep　up；　and　had　slipped　down；　when　a　mighty　grunt　told　him　of　peril。　Never　looking　to　see　whence　it　came；　he　sprang　into　the　saddle。　Fiery　Kentuck　jumped　into　action；　then　hauled　up　with　a　shock　that　almost　threw　himself　and　rider。　The　lasso；　fast　to　the　horse；　and　its　loop　end　round　the　calf；　had　caused　the　sudden　check。

A　maddened　cow　bore　down　on　Kentuck。　The　gallant　horse　straightened　in　a　jump；　but　dragging　the　calf　pulled　him　in　a　circle；　and　in　another　moment　he　was　running　round　and　round　the　howling；　kicking　pivot。　Then　ensued　a　terrible　race；　with　horse　and　bison　describing　a　twenty…foot　circle。　Bang！　Bang！　The　hunter　fired　two　shots；　and　heard　the　spats　of　the　bullets。　But　they　only　augmented　the　frenzy　of　the　beast。　Faster　Kentuck　flew；　snorting　in　terror；　closer　drew　the　dusty；　bouncing　pursuer；　the　calf　spun　like　a　top；　the　lasso　strung　tighter　than　wire。　Jones　strained　to　loosen　the　fastening；　but　in　vain。　He　swore　at　his　carelessness　in　dropping　his　knife　by　the　last　calf　he　had　tied。　He　thought　of　shooting　the　rope；　yet　dared　not　risk　the　shot。　A　hollow　sound　turned　him　again；　with　the　Colts　leveled。　Bang！　Dust　flew　from　the　ground　beyond　the　bison。

The　two　charges　left　in　the　gun　were　all　that　stood　between　him　and　eternity。　With　a　desperate　display　of　strength　Jones　threw　his　weight　in　a　backward　pull；　and　hauled　Kentuck　up。　Then　he　leaned　far　back　in　the　saddle；　and　shoved　the　Colts　out　beyond　the　horse's　flank。　Down　went　the　broad　head；　with　its　black；　glistening　horns。　Bang！　She　slid　forward　with　a　crash；　plowing　the　ground　with　hoofs　and　nosespouted　blood；　uttered　a　hoarse　cry；　kicked　and　died。

Kentuck；　for　once　completely　terrorized；　reared　and　plunged　from　the　cow；　dragging　the　calf。　Stern　command　and　iron　arm　forced　him　to　a　standstill。　The　calf；　nearly　strangled；　recovered　when　the　noose　was　slipped；　and　moaned　a　feeble　protest　against　life　and　captivity。　The　remainder　of　Jones's　lasso　went　to　bind　number　six；　and　one　of　his　socks　went　to　serve　as　reminder　to　the　persistent　wolves。

〃Six！　On！　On！　Kentuck！　On！〃　Weakening；　but　unconscious　of　it；　with　bloody　hands　and　feet；　without　lasso；　and　with　only　one　charge　in　his　revolver；　hatless；　coatless；　vestless；　bootless；　the　wild　hunter　urged　on　the　noble　horse。　The　herd　had　gained　miles　in　the　interval　of　the　fight。　Game　to　the　backbone；　Kentuck　lengthened　out　to　overhaul　it；　and　slowly　the　rolling　gap　lessened　and　lessened。　A　long　hour　thumped　away；　with　the　rumble　growing　nearer。

Once　again　the　lagging　calves　dotted　the　grassy　plain　before　the　hunter。　He　dashed　beside　a　burly　calf；　grasped　its　tail；　stopped　his　horse；　and　jumped。　The　calf　went　down　with　him；　and　did　not　come　up。　The　knotted；　blood…stained　hands；　like　claws　of　steel；　bound　the　hind　legs　close　and　fast　with　a　leathern　belt；　and　left　between　them　a　torn　and　bloody　sock。

〃Seven！　On！　Old　Faithfull！　We　MUST　have　another！　the　last！　This　is　your　day。〃

The　blood　that　flecked　the　hunter　was　not　all　his　own。

The　sun　slanted　westwardly　toward　the　purpling　horizon；　the　grassy　plain　gleamed　like　a　ruffled　sea　of　glass；　the　gray　wolves　loped　on。

When　next　the　hunter　came　within　sight　of　the　herd；　over　a　wavy　ridge；　changes　in　its　shape　and　movement　met　his　gaze。　The　calves　were　almost　done；　they　could　run　no　more；　their　mothers　faced　the　south；　and　trotted　slowly　to　and　fro；　the　bulls　were　grunting；　herding；　piling　close。　It　looked　as　if　the　herd　meant　to　stand　and　fight。

This　mattered　little　to　the　hunter　who　had　captured　seven　calves　since　dawn。　The　first　limping　calf　he　reached　tried　to　elude　the　grasping　hand　and　failed。　Kentuck　had　been　trained　to　wheel　to　the　right　or　left；　in　whichever　way　his　rider　leaned；　and　as　Jones　bent　over　and　caught　an　upraised　tail；　the　horse　turned　to　strike　the　calf　with　both　front　hoofs。　The　calf　rolled；　the　horse　plunged　down；　the　rider　sped　beyond　to　the　dust。　Though　the　calf　was　tired；　he　still　could　bellow；　and　he　filled　the　air　with　robust　bawls。

Jones　all　at　once　saw　twenty　or　more　buffalo　dash　in　at　him　with　fast；　twinkling；　short　legs。　With　the　thought　of　it；　he　was　in　the　air　to　the　saddle。　As　the　black；　round　mounds　charged　from　every　direction；　Kentuck　let　out　with　all　there　was　left　in　him。　He　leaped　and　whirled；　pitched　and　swerve