Buku Gunsmoke and Trail Dust by Bliss Lomax

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Gunsmoke and Trail Dust by Bliss Lomax

Author:Bliss Lomax

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: Western, Gunslinger, Outlaw, Adventure, Mormon

Publisher: Wildside Press LLC

Published: 1949-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

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Gunsmoke and Trail Dust by Bliss Lomax

Chapter Ten

THE FIGHT AT SKULL TANKS

AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN Roberts and Cleve stood on the crest of the barren San Carlos Swell. They picketed their horses and curled up in their blankets until sunup.

 

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Gunsmoke and Trail Dust by Bliss Lomax

Author:Bliss Lomax , Date: June 11, 2019

,Views: 29

Author:Bliss Lomax

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: Western, Gunslinger, Outlaw, Adventure, Mormon

Publisher: Wildside Press LLC

Published: 1949-06-10T16:00:00+00:00
Chapter Ten

THE FIGHT AT SKULL TANKS

AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN Roberts and Cleve stood on the crest of the barren San Carlos Swell. They picketed their horses and curled up in their blankets until sunup.

Daylight revealed a world that bore no resemblance to Magdalena Basin. Here was no living green thing, not even dwarf sage. As far as the eye could see there was only sand and grotesquely carved sandstone peaks. Along the swell, the rimrock was decayed and tottering. It was a world that was old and lifeless. The wind had been at work here for centuries, eroding and sculpturing a fantastic land. To the south, it dropped away in a series of gigantic stairs toward the Colorado.

Clay gazed at it with narrowed eyes. In all that vast expanse, lost in the far distance in a blue haze, nothing moved. The dawn breeze was beginning to kick up little dust devils that danced in the thin, shimmering air.

“Looks tough, eh?” Cleve inquired, catching the expression on Clay’s face. The latter nodded.

“Steve must know this country, to think he can run a bunch of cattle through it. A stranger wouldn’t have a chance.”

They ate a cold snack before they began moving along the swell. Half a hundred cows would kick up enough dust to pollute the air for some time after they passed. Clay caught Cleve sniffing the air for sign of it.

“No use, Cleve,” he said. “They must be hours ahead of us.”

They followed the swell for four miles or more. In such country as this it was impossible to move a herd without leaving a trail a child could follow. The sun was over an hour high when Clay found it.

“From what I see, Steve and his pals wasn’t hazin’ that stuff along very fast when they passed here,” Cleve observed.

“No, taking their time all right,” Clay agreed. “It could mean they know they’ve got a long piece to go without water and just letting the stock drift along is the only way to get it through.”

They came down from the swell and followed the trail until noon. It was still heading south. It was evident to Clay by now that Jennings wasn’t going to attempt to cross Hurricane Ledge.

“I guess the old fox figured I’d have it blocked off,” he said. “The only reason he’s dropping down this far is so he can swing wide around the Ledge and hit into the lower hills of the Desolations.”

“I’d stake my life on it,” Cleve declared. “He’s goin’ to be lookin’ for water and he knows that’s where he’ll find it.”

He got down from the saddle and drew a map in the sand. On it he traced the rustlers’ course, as he saw it.

“You’ll find some springs here,” he said, making an indentation with his finger. “The only name I ever heard for them is Skull Tanks. It’s noon now. By this time tomorrow Jennings will be showin’ up there. Do you figure you can find the tanks?”

“Can you give me a landmark I can go by?”

“Sure! Hat Butte! It looks like one of those old stovepipe hats.

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