Pluck on the Long Trail Part 33

We waited, and kept a cold pack on the major.

In about an hour and a half Van came panting back.

"There isn't any wagon," he gasped. "n.o.body at the ranch except two women. Men folks have gone and taken the wagon with them."

That was hard. We skirmished about, and made a litter out of one of our blankets and two pieces of driftwood that we fished from the creek; and carrying the major, with Sally following, we struck the best pace that we could down the trail. He was heavy, and we must stop often to rest ourselves and him; and we changed the cold packs.

At evening we toiled at last into the ranch yard. It had not been three miles: it had been a good long four miles.

CHAPTER XX

A FORTY-MILE RIDE

The ranch was only a small log shack, of two rooms, with corral and sheds and hay-land around it; it wasn't much of a place, but we were glad to get there. Smoke was rising from the stove-pipe chimney. As we drew up, one of the women looked out of the kitchen door, and the other stood in a shed with a milk-pail in her hand. The woman in the doorway was the mother; the other was the daughter. They were regular ranch women, hard workers and quick to be kind in an emergency. This was an emergency, for Major Henry was about worn out.

"Fetch him right in here," called the mother; and the daughter came hurrying.

We carried him into a sleeping room, and laid him upon the bed there. He had been all grit, up till now; but he quit and let down and lay there with eyes closed, panting.

"What is it?" they asked anxiously.

"He's sick. We think it's appendicitis."

"Oh, goodness!" they exclaimed. "What can we give him?"

"Nothing. Where can we get a doctor?"

"The mines is the nearest place, if he's there. That's twenty miles."

"But a man we met said it was fifteen."

"You can't follow that trail. It's been washed out. You'll have to take the other trail, around by the head of Cooper Creek."

"Can we get a saddle-horse here?"

"There are two in the corral; but I don't know as you can catch 'em.

They're used to being roped."

"We'll rope them."

The major groaned. He couldn't help it.

"It's all right, old boy," soothed Fitz. "We'll have the doctor in a jiffy."

"Don't bother about me," gasped the major, without opening his eyes. "Go on through."

"You hush," we all retorted. "We'll do both: have you fixed up and get through, too."

The major fidgeted and complained weakly.

"One of us had better be catching the horses, hadn't we?" suggested Red Fox Scout Ward. "Van and I'll go for the doctor."

"No, you won't," said I. "I'll go. Fitz ought to stay. I know trails pretty well."

"Then either Van or I'll go with you. Two would be better than one."

"I'm going," declared Van Sant. "You stay here with Fitz, Hal."

That was settled. We didn't delay to dispute over the matter. There was work and duty for all.

"You be learning the trail, then," directed Fitz. "I'll be catching the horses."

"You'll find a rope on one of the saddles in the shed," called the daughter.

Fitz made for it; that was quicker than unpacking Sally and getting our own rope. Scout Ward went along to help. We tried to ease the major.

"You should have something to eat," exclaimed the women.

We said "no"; but they bustled about, hurrying up their own supper, which was under way when we arrived. While they bustled they fired questions at us; who we were, and where we had come from, and where we were going, and all.

The major seemed kind of light-headed. He groaned and wriggled and mumbled. The message was on his mind, and the Red Fox Scouts, and the fear that neither would get through in time. He kept trying to pa.s.s the message on to us; so finally I took it.

"All right. I've got it, major," I told him. "We'll carry it on. We can make Green Valley easy, from here. We'll start as soon as we can.

To-morrow's Sunday, anyway. You go to sleep."

That half-satisfied him.

We found that we couldn't eat much. We drank some milk, and stuffed down some bread and b.u.t.ter; and by that time Fitz and Scout Ward had the horses led out. We heard the hoofs, and in came Ward, to tell us.

"Horses are ready," he announced.

Out we went. No time was to be lost. They even had saddled them--Fitz working with his one hand! So all we must do was to climb on. The women had told us the trail, and they had given us an old heavy coat apiece.

Nights are cold, in the mountains.

"You know how, do you?" queried Fitz of me.

"Yes."

"That gray horse is the easiest," called one of the women, from the door.

"Let Jim take it, then," spoke Van.

But I had got ahead of him by grabbing the bay.

"Jim is used to riding," explained Fitz.