lla.thelonelymen-第18部分

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　and　kept　on。
　We　knew　there　was　a　waterhole　ahead。　Rocca　knew　where　it　lay；　Spanish　knew；　and　I　knew。　We　thinned　out　as　we　rode　nearer；　and　we　cut　for　sign；　but　found　none。　We　could　see　a　cottonwood　up　ahead；　and　a　small　clump　of　willows。　Off　to　the　east；　fifty　yards　or　more　from　the　waterhole；　rose　a　bare　upthrust　of　rocks　perhaps　half　a　mile　long；　and　not　more　than　a　hundred　yards　wide　for　most　of　its　length。
　Pulling　up；　I　studied　those　rocks。　〃That　waterhole　now；〃　I　said。　〃If　somebody　was　up　in　those　rocks　anybody　at　the　waterhole　would　be　a　sitting　duck。〃
　〃We　got　to　have　water；〃　Murphy　said。
　Glancing　around；　I　saw　a　separate　small　island　of　rocks　rising　perhaps　from　a　buried　spur　of　the　ridge。　〃You　folks　hole　up　over　younder；〃　I　said；　〃and　I'll　take　three　horses　and　the　canteens　and　ride　over　there　for　water。　You　cover　me。　If　any　shooting　starts；　you　open　up　on　the　ridge　over　there。　I'll　water　the　horses；　and　fill　the　canteens。〃
　Leading　the　horses；　I　rode　to　the　waterhole。　There　was　a　desert　wren　singing　in　the　willows；　and　the　cotton…wood　leaves　were　rustling；　as　they　do　in　the　slightest　breeze。　Some　quail　sifted　away　through　the　low　brush　as　I　approached；　the　horses　quickening　their　pace　as　they　neared　the　water。
　If　there　were　Apaches　near　they　would　surely　have　seen　my　friends　take　their　rifles　and　get　down　among　the　rocks；　and　they　would　be　almighty　sure　to　know　that　meant　trouble　if　they　opened　fire。　But　it　was　a　shaky　business；　a…setting　out　there　on　a　horse；　letting　the　other　ones　take　the　time　to　drink；　and　just　a…waiting　for　a　bullet。
　After　a　bit　I　got　down；　went　around　the　waterhole；　and　began　filling　canteens。　First　off；　on　ing　up　to　the　waterhole　I'd　taken　notice　of　the　ground；　and　saw　coyote；　bighorn；　and　wild　horse　tracks；　and　the　track　of　a　desert　fox；　too；　but　no　tracks　of　anything　human。　That　didn't　mean　a　whole　lot。　An　Apache；　if　he　figured　there　were　white　men　around；　would　never　go　near　a　waterhole　unless　he　was　dying　of　thirst。　He　would　just　hole　up　some　place　close　by　and　wait。
　One　by　one　I　filled　the　canteens；　getting　a　drink　myself　in　the　meantime；　and　then　I　mounted　up　and　rode　back　and　took　the　rest　of　the　horses。
　It　was　an　eerie　sort　of　thing；　watching　the　horses　dip　their　muzzles　into　the　water　and　drink；　and　listening　to　that　wren　in　the　brush。　I　could　see　a　place　where　some　javelinas；　the　wild　pig　of　the　desert；　had　been　bedded　down。
　When　the　last　horse　had　drunk　his　fill；　I　gathered　the　reins　on　the　black　and　put　a　boot　into　the　stirrup。　I　started　to　swing　up；　but　something　glanced　sharp　across　my　eyes　and　I　let　go　the　pommel　and　dropped。
　The　bullet；　timed　for　my　swing　into　the　saddle；　clipped　a　twig　where　my　head　would　have　been；　had　I　not　been　warned　by　that　flash　of　sunlight　on　a　rifle　barrel。
　On　one　knee　I　aimed　and　fired；　my　shot　echoing　those　fired　by　my　bends　among　the　rocks；　and　they　all　hit　within　inches　of　where　the　Apache　had　been。　Then　I　was　in　the　saddle　and　racing　the　horses　back　to　the　rocks。　In　an　instant　we　were　all　riding；　and　another　shot　hit　the　sand　behind　us。
　〃Only　one；〃　Rocca　said；　〃but　he'll　send　up　a　smoke。〃
　〃Maybe　we　got　him；〃　Spanish　said。
　〃We'd　have　to　have　luck。　We　worried　him；　but　I　don't　think　we　got　him。〃
　We　glanced　back；　and　in　another　minute　saw　a　thin　column　of　smoke　rising。　We　looked　at　it；　but　nobody　made　any　ment。　The　horses　were　slowed　to　a　walk　…　they　might　need　to　run　later。　We　traveled　down　an　arroyo　that　left　no　tracks　to　speak　of；　the　deep　sand　obliterating　all　but　indefinite　hollows。
　We　went　down　across　a　desert　flat　and　into　several　parallel　ranges　of　bare　ridges；　their　slopes　partly　covered　with　the　drift　sand。　The　ridges　gave　us　a　little　cover；　and　we　stepped　up　the　pace。
　The　children　were　very　tired　now。　The　endless　motion　of　the　horses　had　lulled　them　into　a　state　where　nothing　mattered　but　a　longed…for　end　of　it。　As　for　the　rest　of　us；　we　lived　by　the　moment；　counting　on　nothing　more；　knowing　that　the　worst　might　still　lay　before　us。
　Dorset　came　close　to　me；　and　for　some　time　we　rode　side　by　side　without　speaking。　Suddenly；　about　half　a　mile　off　to　our　right；　we　saw　a　rider。　It　was　an　Apache；　but　he　made　no　effort　to　close　the　distance；　simply　holding　a　course　parallel　to　our　own。　A　few　minutes　later　another　appeared；　to　our　left。
　〃They're　closing　in。〃　Battles　lit　a　cigar；　squinting　his　eyes　through　the　smoke。　〃I　think　they've　got　some　place　in　mind；　somewhere　up　ahead。〃
　Tampico　stood　in　his　stirrups；　scanning　the　country　around。　〃We'll　turn　west；〃　he　said。
　We　wheeled　quickly　and　charged　in　that　direction；　spurring　our　horses　for　speed；　and　drove　right　at　the　man　on　that　flank。
　For　a　startled　instant　I　think　the　Apache　had　no　idea　what　to　do；　and　then　he　fled　off　to　the　northwest　as　fast　as　his　pony　could　carry　him。
　We　kept　on　west　at　top　speed；　wanting　to　cover　ground　before　they　could　adjust　to　our　change　of　direction　and　pace。　We　dipped　into　a　hollow　dotted　with　clumps　of　ocotillo　and　prickly　pear；　and　charged　down　it；　out　of　sight　of　the　Apaches　for　at　least　a　mile。　Then　we　rode　up　a　shallow　wash　and　out　on　the　flat　above。
　There　were　at　least　a　dozen　Apaches　off　to　the　east；　riding　on　a　course　that　would　join　with　ours　somewhere　ahead。　Others　were　ing　up　behind；　and　to　the　west　we　could　see　another　party　ing　along　fast　to　head　us　off。
　Me；　my　eyes　were　taking　in　the　country　around。　We　were　being　boxed。　〃All　right；〃　I　said；　〃we'll　run！〃
　And　we　ran。
　I　figure　we　all　knew　we　were　up　against　it　then。　They　knew　we　had　been　swapping　saddles；　but　now　they　weren't　going　to　give　us　a　chance　to　do　that。　They　were　going　to　run　us　the　way　they'd　run　wild　horses；　in　relays。　If　we　stopped　they'd　move　in　and　surround　us；　so　we　had　to　run。　And　they　knew　where　we　were　running　to。
　Oh；　they　were　sly；　all　right；　cunning　as　wolves。　Ahead　of　us　a　canyon　mouth　suddenly　opened；　a　wide；　shallow　canyon　like　some　of　those　in　western　Texas；　with　sides　sloping　steeply　up　to　a　sheer　rock　wall　about　thirty　or　forty　feet　high。　The　Apaches　closed　in　on　the　sides；　driving　us　into　that　canyon　like　into　a　trap。　And　we　knew　it　would　be　a　box　canyon；　with　a　dead　end　somewhere　up　ahead。
　〃Slow　down；〃　I　said。　〃Rocca；　we　got　to　find　us　a　place　up　on　the　slope；　somewhere　open　to　the　top。〃
　A　shot　rang　out　and　one　of　our　horses　stumbled　and　fell。　I　swore。　Nobody　ever　likes　to　see　a　good　horse　die；　but　this　one　would　be　eaten　by　the　Apaches。
　They　had　fallen　behind　now；　but　they　were　in　the　canyon　top；　which　was　over　four　hundred　yards　wide　at　this　point。　There　was　a　thin　trickle　of　water　in　the　bottom；　at　the　east　side。
　We　were　almost　abreast　of　what　looked　like　a　means　of　escape　before　we　saw　it　…　hollow　up　near　the　rim；　a　sort　of　half…basin　scooped　out　by　some　fall　of　rock；　followed　by　erosion。　Pulling　up；　I　pointed。　〃We're　going　up　there。〃
　〃It's　a　trap；〃　Rocca　said。　〃We'll　never　get　out　of　it。〃
　〃It's　a　place　to　stand　and　fight　from；〃　Battles　answered；　looking　up。　He　wheeled　his　horse　and　started　up　the　slope。
　He　rode　left　for　about　fifty　paces；　leading　the　pack　horse；　then　back　right；　riding　a　switchback　trail　he　was　making　himself。
　Tampico　Rocca　was　already　down　behind　some　rocks；　and　I　dropped　beside　him。　〃Go　on　up；〃　I　told　Dorset。　〃At　the　top　you'll　have　to　lead　your　horse；　but　keep　going。〃
　She　was　not　one　to　ask　unnecessary　questions。　She　knew　what　Rocca　and　I　were　set　to　do；　and　she　wasted　no　time。　John　J。　Battles　was　already　halfway　up；　and　he　was　on　his　feet；　leading　his　struggling　horses。　Harry　Brook；　with　one　of　the　Creed　boys；　was　right　behind　him；　but　being　lighter　they　could　stay　on　the　horses。
　Spanish　Murphy　was　waiting。　Winchester　in　his　hand；　and　when　Dorset　passed　him　he　followed；　leading　the　other　horses。　They　strung　out　on　the　trail；　making　quite　a　cavalcade。
　〃Tamp；〃　I　said；　〃there's　a　steep　fall　of　rock；　a　sort　of　watercourse；　to　the　left　of　where　they　are　going　up。　It　will　be　steeper　but　faster。〃
　〃Bueno；〃　he　said；　and　looked　around　at　me。　〃It　has　been　a　good　race。　A　very　good　one；　I　think。〃
　The　Apaches　were　ing　closer　…　there　must　have　been　at　least　thirty　of　them。　Again　I　glanced　at　the　slope；　checking　out　the　route；　the　possible　cover；　the　quickest　way　to　the　hollow　up　under　the　rim。　It　was　farther　up　there　than　it　looked；　and　already　the　others　were　looking　a　lot　smaller；　but　they　still　had　a　way　to　go。
　One　of　the　Apaches　was　trying　to　climb　the　slope　behind　us。　Rocca　tucked　the　butt　of　his　Winchester　against　his　shoulder；　held　his　aim　for　an　instant；　and　fired。　We　saw　the　Apache　slip；　half　fall；　then　catch　himself　and　turn　his　horse　away　from　us。
　We　waited。　The　other　Indians　were　scattering　out　now。　We　fired；　choosing　our　targets；　but　we　could　not　see　whether　we　scored　or　not。　But　all　the　Apaches　in　sight　went　to　the　ground。
　Rocca　ducked　back；　running　swiftly　from　rock　to　rock。　He　was　an　Apache　again　himself；　swift　and　daring；　yet　sure。　He　paused　once；　shot　quickly；　then　ran　on。
　I　balanced　my　Winchester　in　my　hands；　took　a　quick　glance　toward　a　bunch　of　brush　and　rocks　about　thirty　feet　away；　and　ran　for　it。　A　bullet　kicked　dust　just　ahead　of　me　。。。　another　ricocheted　off　a　rock　with　an　angry　snarl；　a　nasty　sound；　the　flattened　bullet　could　have　made　an　ugly　wound。
　Crawling　a　dozen　feet；　and　scrambling　through　the　brush；　I　got　up　again；　rounded　a　boulder；　and　was　in　plain　sight　of　them。　I　brought　my　rifle　up　swiftly。　An　Apache　was　running　straight　toward　me　when　I　stepped　out；　but　before　he　could　stop　or　hunt　cover；　I　squeezed　off　my　shot。
　He　was　not　seventy　yards　away　and　was　facing　full　toward　me；　and　there　was　no　way　I　could　miss。　The　bullet　caught　him　running；　and　he　took　two　steps　before　he　pitched　on　his　face　in　the　gravel　of　the　slope。
　Up　the　watercourse　I　could　hear　scrambling　feet；　and　I　ran　that　way。　I　was　taking　long　strides；　leaping　from　rock　to　rock　like　a　mountain　goat；　with　lead　spattering　around　me。　Once　I　lost　my　footing；　my　heel　skidded　off　a　water…worn　boulder；　and　I　was　pitched　into　the　sand。　I　came　up　fast　and　felt　a　bullet　snatch　at　my　hat　as　I　fired　。。。　and　missed。
　The　Apache　I'd　seen　was　gone。　The　one　I　had　killed　was　still　lying　back　there　on　the　gravel。
　My　breath　was　tearing　at　my　lungs　but　I　scramb