Sawtooth Ranch Page 11

  CHAPTER XI

  SWAN TALKS WITH HIS THOUGHTS

  Lorraine, following instinct rather than thought, pulled Yellowjacketinto the first opening that presented itself. This was a narrow,rather precipitous gully that seamed the slope just beyond the bend.The bushes there whipped her head and shoulders cruelly as the horseforged in among them, but they trapped him effectually where the gullynarrowed to a point. He stopped perforce, and Lorraine was out of thesaddle and running down to the trail before she quite realised what shewas doing.

  At the bend she looked down, saw the marks where the wagon had goneover, scraping rocks and bushes from its path. Fence posts were strewnat all angles down the incline, and far down a horse was standing withpart of the harness on him and with his head drooping dispiritedly.Her father she could not see, nor the other horse, nor the wagon. Aclump of young trees hid the lower declivity. Lorraine did not stop tothink of what she would find down there. Sliding, running, shefollowed the traces of the wreck to where the horse was standing. Itwas Caroline, looking very dejected but apparently unhurt, save forskinned patches here and there where she had rolled over rocks.

  A little farther, just beyond the point of the grove which they seemedto have missed altogether, lay the other horse and what was left of thewagon. Brit she did not see at all. She searched the bushes, lookedunder the wagon, and called and called.

  A full-voiced shout answered her from farther up the canyon, and sheran stumbling toward the sound, too agonised to shed tears or to thinkvery clearly. It was not her father's voice; she knew that beyond alldoubt. It was no voice that she had ever heard before. It had a clearresonance that once heard would not have been easily forgotten. Whenshe saw them finally, her father was being propped up in a half-sittingposition, and the strange man was holding something to his lips.

  "Just a little water. I carry me a bottle of water always in mypocket," said Swan, glancing up at her when she had reached them. "Itsometimes makes a man's head think better when he has been hurt, if hecan drink a little water or something."

  Brit swallowed and turned his face away from the tilted bottle. "Ijumped--but I didn't jump quick enough," he muttered thickly. "Thechain pulled loose. Where's the horses, Raine?"

  "They're all right. Caroline's standing over there. Are you hurtmuch, dad?" It was a futile question, because Brit was already goingoff into unconsciousness.

  "He's hurt pretty bad," Swan declared honestly; looking up at her withhis eyes grown serious. "I was across the walley and I saw him comingdown the road like rolling rocks down a hill. I came quick. Now wemake stretcher, I think, and carry him home. I could take him on myback, but that is hurting him too much." He looked at her--throughher, it seemed to Lorraine. In spite of her fear, in spite of hergrief, she felt that Swan was reading her very soul, and she backedaway from him.

  "I could help your father very much," he said soberly, "but I shouldtell you a secret if I do that. I should maybe ask that you tell a lieif somebody asks questions. Could you do that, Miss?"

  "Lie?" Lorraine laughed uncertainly. "I'd _kill!_--if that would helpdad."

  Swan was folding his coat very carefully and placing it under Brit'shead. "My mother I love like that," he said, without looking up. "Mymother I love so well that I talk with my thoughts to her sometimes.You believe people can talk with their thoughts?"

  "I don't know--what's that got to do with helping dad?" Lorraine kneltbeside Brit and began stroking his forehead softly, as is the soothingway of women with their sick.

  "I could send my thought to my mother. I could say to her that a manis hurt and that a doctor must come very quickly to the Quirt ranch. Icould do that, Miss, but I should not like it if people knew that I didit. They would maybe say that I am crazy. They would laugh at me, andit is not right to laugh at those things."

  "I'm not laughing. If you can do it, for heaven's sake go ahead! Idon't believe it, but I won't tell any one, if that's what you want."

  "If some neighbours should ask, 'How did that doctor come soquick?'----"

  "I'd rather lie and say I sent for him, than say that you or any oneelse sent a telepathic message. That would sound more like a lie thana lie would. How are we going to make a stretcher? We've got to gethim home, somehow----"

  "At my cabin is blankets," Swan told her briskly. "I can climb thehill--it is up there. In a little while I will come back."

  He started off without waiting to see what Lorraine would have to sayabout it, and with some misgivings she watched him run down to thecanyon's bottom and go forging up the opposite side with a most amazingspeed and certainty. In travel pictures she had seen mountain sheepclimb like that, and she likened him now to one of them. It seemed ashame that he was a bit crazy, she thought; and immediately sherecalled his perfect assurance when he told her of sending thoughtmessages to his mother. She had heard of such things, she had evenread a little on the subject, but it had never seemed to her apractical means of communicating. Calling a doctor, for instance,seemed to Lorraine rather far-fetched an application of what was atbest but a debatable theory.

  Considering the distance, he was back in a surprisingly short time withtwo blankets, a couple of light poles and a flask of brandy. He seemedas fresh and unwinded as if he had gone no farther than the grove, andhe wore, more than ever, his air of cheerful assurance.

  "The doctor will be there," he remarked, just as if it were thesimplest thing in the world. "We can carry him to Fred Thurman's.There I can get horses and a wagon, and you will not have to carry sofar. And when we get to your ranch the doctor will be there, I think.He is starting now. We will hurry. I will fix it so you need notcarry much. It is just to make it steady for me."

  While he talked he was working on the stretcher. He had a rope, and hewas knotting it in a long loop to the poles. Lorraine wondered why,until he had lifted her father and placed him on the stretcher andplaced the loop over his head and under one arm, as a ploughman holdsthe reins, so that his hands may be free.

  "If you will carry the front," said Swan politely, "it will not beheavy for you like this. But you will help me keep it steady."

  Lorraine was past discussing anything. She obeyed him silently,lifting the end of the stretcher and leading the way down to thecanyon's bottom, where Swan assured her they could walk quite easilyand would save many detours which the road above must take. At thebottom Swan stopped her so that he might shorten the rope and take moreof the weight on his shoulders. She protested half-heartedly, but Swanonly laughed.

  "I am strong like a mule," he said. "You should see me wrestle withsomebody. Clear over my head--I can carry a man in my hands. This isso you can walk fast. Three miles straight down we come to Thurman'sranch, where I get the horses. It's funny how hills make a road fararound. Just three miles--that's all. I have walked many times."

  Lorraine did not answer him. She felt that he was talking merely tokeep her from worrying, and she was fairly sick with anxiety and didnot hear half of what he was saying. She was nervously careful aboutchoosing her steps so that she would not stumble and jolt her father.She did not believe that he was wholly unconscious, for she had seenhis eyelids tighten and his lips twitch several times, when she waitingfor Swan. He had seemed to be in pain and to be trying to hide thefact from her. She felt that Swan knew it, else he would have talkedof her dad, would at least have tried to reassure her. But it isdifficult to speak of a person who hears what you are saying, and Swanwas talking of everything, it seemed to her, except the man they werecarrying.

  She wondered if it were really true that Swan had sent a call throughspace for a doctor; straightway she would call herself crazy for evenconsidering for a moment its possibility. If he could do that--but ofcourse he couldn't. He must just imagine it.

  Many times Swan had her lower the stretcher to the ground, and wouldmake a great show of rubbing his arms and easing his shoulder muscles.Whenever Lorraine looked full into his face he would grin
at her asthough nothing was wrong, and when they came to a clear-running streamhe emptied the water bottle, dipped up a little fresh water, addedbrandy, and lifted Brit's head very gently and gave him a drink. Britopened his eyes and looked at Swan, and from him to Lorraine, but hedid not say anything. He still had that tightened look around hismouth which spelled pain.

  "Pretty quick now we get you fixed up good," Swan told him cheerfully."One mile more is all, and we get the horses and I make a good bed foryou." He looked a signal, and Lorraine once more took up the stretcher.

  Another mile seemed a long way, light though Swan had made the load forher. She thought once that he must have some clairvoyant power,because whenever she felt as if her arms were breaking, Swan would tellher to stop a minute.

  "How do you know a doctor will come?" she asked Swan suddenly, whenthey were resting with the Thurman ranch in view half a mile below them.

  Swan did not look at her directly, as had been his custom. She saw adarker shade of red creep up into his cheeks. "My mother says shewould send a doctor quick," he replied hesitatingly. "You will see.It is because--your father he is not like other men in this country.Your father is a good man. That is why a doctor comes."

  Lorraine looked at him strangely and stooped again to her burden. Shedid not speak again until they were passing the Thurman fence where itran up into the mouth of the canyon. A few horses were grazing there,the sun striking their sides with the sheen of satin. They staredcuriously at the little procession, snorted and started to run, headsand tails held high. But one wheeled suddenly and came gallopingtoward them, stopped when he was quite close, ducked and wentthundering past to the head of the field. Lorraine gave a sharp littlescream and set down the stretcher with a lurch, staring after the horsewide-eyed, her face white.

  "They do it for play," Swan said reassuringly. "They don't hurt you.The fence is between, and they don't hurt you anyway."

  "That horse with the white face--I saw it--and when the man struck itwith his quirt it went past me, running like that anddragging--_oh-h!_" She leaned against the bluff side, her face coveredwith her two palms.

  Swan glanced down at Brit, saw that his eyes were closed, ducked hishead from under the looped rope and went to Lorraine.

  "The man that struck that horse--do you know that man?" he asked, allthe good nature gone from his voice.

  "No--I don't know--I saw him twice, by the lightning flashes. Heshot--and then I saw him----" She stopped abruptly, stood for a minutelonger with her eyes covered, then dropped her hands limply to hersides. But when the horse came circling back with a great flourish,she shivered and her hands closed into the fists of a fighter.

  "Are you a Sawtooth man?" she demanded suddenly, looking up at Swandefiantly. "It was a nightmare. I--I dreamed once about a horse--likethat."

  Swan's wide-open eyes softened a little. "The Sawtooth calls me thatdamn Swede on Bear Top," he explained. "I took a homestead up thereand some day they will want to buy my place or they will want to make afight with me to get the water. Could you know that man again?"

  "Raine!" Brit's voice held a warning, and Lorraine shivered again asshe turned toward him. "Raine, you----"

  He closed his eyes again, and she could get no further speech from him.But she thought she understood. He did not want her to talk about FredThurman. She went to her end of the stretcher and waited there whileSwan put the rope over his head. They went on, Lorraine walking withher head averted, trying not to see the blaze-faced roan, trying toshut out the memory of him dashing past her with his terrible burden,that night.

  Swan did not speak of the matter again. With Lorraine's assistance hecarried Brit into Thurman's cabin, laid him, stretcher and all, on thebed and hurried out to catch and harness the team of work horses.Lorraine waited beside her father, helpless and miserable. There wasnothing to do but wait, yet waiting seemed to her the one thing shecould not do.

  "Raine!" Brit's voice was very weak, but Lorraine jumped as though atrumpet had bellowed suddenly in her ear. "Swan--he's all right. Butdon't go telling--all yuh know and some besides. He ain't--Sawtooth,but--he might let out----"

  "I know. I won't, dad. It was that horse----"

  Brit turned his face to the wall as if no more was to be said on thesubject. Lorraine wandered around the cabin, which was no larger thanher father's place. The rooms were scrupulously clean--neater than theQuirt, she observed guiltily. Not one article, however small andunimportant, seemed to be out of its place, and the floors of bothrooms were scrubbed whiter than any floors she had ever seen. Swan'shousekeeping qualities made her ashamed of her own imperfections; andwhen, thinking that Swan must be hungry and that the least she could dowas to set out food for him, she opened the cupboard, she had a swift,embarrassed vision of her own culinary imperfections. She could cookbetter food than her dad had been content to eat and to set beforeothers, but Swan's bread was a triumph in sour dough. Biscuits talland light as bread can be she found, covered neatly with a cloth.Prunes stewed so that there was not one single wrinkle inthem--Lorraine could scarcely believe they were prunes until she tastedthem. She was investigating a pot of beans when Swan came in.

  "Food I am thinking of, Miss," he grinned at her. "We shall hurry, butit is not good to go hungry. Milk is outside in a cupboard. It isquicker than to make coffee."

  "It will be dark before we can get him home," said Lorraine uneasily."And by the time a doctor can get out there----"

  "A doctor will be there, I think. You don't believe, but that is nodifference to his coming just the same."

  He brought the milk, poured off the creamy top into a pitcher, stirredit, and quietly insisted that she drink two glasses. Lorraine observedthat Swan himself ate very little, bolting down a biscuit in greatmouthfuls while he carried a mattress and blankets out to spread in thewagon. It was like his pretence of weariness on the long carry downthe canyon, she thought. It was for her more than for himself that hewas thinking.