CHAPTER XXXVI.THE FIRST NIGHT.
The plaintive song of the Texan did have a soothing effect upon both cattle and horses.
Thus the time passed away out in the grounds, while in the hacienda when all became quiet it seems that the spooks began to get in their work also.
The first the guards heard was a low moan which sounded like a man in suffering, but just where it came from the two guards could not tell.
The superstitious one of the two was for rousing the men at once, but his comrade said:
“What for? We see no one, and it is merely a trick to frighten us, for the chief is right; this is an outlaws’ haunt.”
When there joined in with the moaning the sound of a woman weeping, Mustang Frank began to show real fright, but Lone Star Sam calmed him, and the two listened to the strange sounds. As though a man’s moaning and woman’s weeping were not enough, there joined as a treble the sound of a child crying like one in pain.
“Let’s arouse the chief.”
“No, Frank, it is nearly midnight, and he’ll be on hand then. Besides, we cannot shoot, mind. This place is haunted by men whose interest it is to frighten us away; but we won’t scare a little bit, Frank.”
“Speak for yourself, pard, for I’m about scared silly this blessed minute.”
Lone Star laughed.
“Listen!” he said. “I thought we would have more of it, for hear that dog join in the quartet, only I don’t like the music—ah! here comes the chief.”
Buffalo Bill just then came out into the corridor.
“Well, pards, we are having a serenade, I hear. But it is time for you to turn in, just twelve, and I’ll watch here, while Haskell stands by the outer door; but remain on duty until I return from seeing Texas Jack.”
“Do you mean any one can sleep, chief, with this going on?”
“Yes, Frank. We were not born in the woods to be scared by an owl,” was the answer, and Buffalo Bill left the corridor and met Winfield, and the other two men who were to go on guard.
They were Haskell and Broncho Rawlings, and both of them were very nervous, for they had heard the weird sounds echoing through the hacienda.
“Winfield, you and the others come with me to where Texas Jack and Pinto Paul are on duty, and we will see if they have been disturbed by these outlaws playing ghosts.”
On they walked and found Texas Jack having as much trouble to soothe Pinto Paul as he had to keep the cattle quiet.
“Anything wrong, Jack?”
“The cattle and horses are very restless, and Paul thinks ghosts are about, but we have seen nothing, though we have heard the howling of a dog and hooting of an owl.”
“Well, Jack, I will relieve you and Pinto Paul, and Broncho Rawlings will stand guard over the cattle while I take the gate. You, Winfield, return to the hacienda and relieve Sam, taking Haskell with you.”
This was done, Broncho Rawlings taking his stand among the cattle, and at once beginning to sing as Texas Jack and Pinto Paul had done, for they were, indeed, restless.
Winfield and Haskell returned to the hacienda, accompanied by Texas Jack and Pinto Paul, who muttered:
“I suppose it will be out of the frying pan into the fire in the old ghost nest.”
The men were all awake now, yet not up. But Texas Jack showed no dread, simply remarking that a ghost would be made of those in reality who were playing the spook act, and he turned in.
Pinto Paul, meanwhile, stirred up the fire for light, not heat, and sat by it, merely remarking:
“Now, I’m not sleepy a little bit, pards.”
Winfield meanwhile had placed Haskell on guard at the outer door of the hacienda, while he went in to relieve Lone Star Sam and Frank.
These came into the large sleeping room, and while Lone Star calmly went to bed, Mustang Frank joined Pinto Paul at the fire, remarking:
“I’m with you, pard, for I always was scared of a danger I couldn’t see.”
“Me, too.”
“This old rookery is a graveyard from ’way back, and, you bet, ghosts are on the prowl this night, for they’ve invited no company, and don’t keep a hotel for men in the flesh, such as we are. Just listen to that music, will you?”
Weird sounds rang through the hacienda.
When Buffalo Bill had gone into the corridor he had intended to relieve Lone Star and Mustang Frank. But when he visited the spot where Texas Jack was on guard he thought that the entrance to the ranch was the best place for him, after he had heard the Texan’s report. He knew if the cattle and horses were restless some one was causing them to be so by prowling about among them, and in some way exciting them.
If that “some one” could only stampede the whole lot, causing them to break through the gateway, then he and his scouts would be in a bad way indeed.
It was true that the gateway had been repaired, but not as well as was intended, for timber would have to be cut and hauled there to make it secure,and a rush of steers would break down the barrier that was there.
That any other demonstration would be made in the hacienda than the weird sounds already heard, Buffalo Bill did not believe, so he decided that he would keep his stand at the gate and let Rawlings guard the cattle, singing to them to quiet them.
The moment the others had walked away, Buffalo Bill had quickly crouched down in the shadow of the wall, just at the entrance. He heard no sound save the impatient tramping of the horses, the singing of Broncho Rawlings, and an anxious lowing of a frightened steer.
An hour passed, and he saw that the horses were becoming more restless.
A moment after his keen eyes detected a white object running along the wall. It came from the corner where the horses were.
Keeping his position, Buffalo Bill watched the white object as he could distinctly see it.
The song of Broncho Rawlings was still kept up, and the cattle, too, became restive in spite of the lulling notes of the melody.
“Broncho soothes them, but if I attempted to sing to them I’d stampede the whole outfit, yes, scouts and all,” said Buffalo Bill, with a full realization that music was not one of his accomplishments.
The chief of scouts was upon the opposite side,crouching in the shadow of the massive adobe column on either side of the entrance.
The white figure came straight toward him, and had Pinto Paul been where Buffalo Bill was, he would have stampeded with alacrity.
The white figure did not seem to be able to see well, for the scout had not been discovered yet.
Halting at the entrance, not twenty feet from Buffalo Bill, the “ghost” showed what its intention was. It intended to break down the barrier, and thus leave an open way for the cattle to stampede.
But the entrance had been better closed than the midnight prowler in white thought, as it had some difficulty in its attempt.
Just then there came from the hacienda, rising far above the singing of Broncho Rawlings and all other sounds, wild and piercing shrieks.
The ghost seemed determined to break down the barrier as he heard the sound, but was suddenly startled by the stern command:
“Hands up, there, or I’ll fire!”
A cry broke from the white-robed form, and, with a bound, he was off, when sharp, loud, and deadly came the report of a revolver.
Just as Buffalo Bill pulled the trigger it seemed as though the white form fell heavily, and then Buffalo Bill’s voice was heard:
“Turn out, all, to quiet the cattle.”