Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
"We might pick up some tracks if we hunt right now," said Hopalong.
"If we wait longer this wind'll blot 'em out. I ain't thirsty," he
lied. "You go down an' meet th' Kid an' I'll look around east of here.
We can't gamble with this: if I find tracks they'll save us a lot of
ridin' an' guessin'. Go ahead."
"If you stay I stay," growled Red.
"Listen, you chump," retorted Hopalong. "It's only a few hours more if
I stay out here than if I go with you. Get canteens an' supplies. Th'
Kid can bring us more tomorrow. I'm backin' my guess: get a-goin'."
Red saw the wisdom of the suggestion and wheeled, riding at good speed
to the southwest while his friend went eastward, his eyes searching the
desert plain. It was night when Red returned, picking his way with a
plainsman's instinct to the carcass of the cow, and he softly replied
to a low call which came from behind a billow of sand.
Hopalong arose. "You made good time," he said.
"Reckon so," replied Red, riding toward him. "I only got two canteens
an' not much grub. Th' Kid'll be ready for us tomorrow. What about yore
cayuse?"
"Don't worry," chuckled Hopalong. "It's th' cayuses that's been
botherin' me most. They're all right now. I found a little hole with
cold, sweeet water, an' there's grass around it for th' cayuses. There
ain't much, but enough for these two goats. Th' water-hole ain't more'n
three feet across an' a foot deep, but it fills up good an' has wet
quite a spot around it. An' Red, I found somethin' else!"
"Good; what is it?"
"There's clay around it an' a thin layer of sand over th' clay,"
replied Hopalong. "I found th' prints of a cayuse an' a man, an' they
was fresh not more'n twenty-four hours old if I'm any judge. I cast
around on widenin' circles, but couldn't pick up th' trail any distance
from th' hole. Th' wind that's been blowin' all day wiped 'em out; but
it didn't wipe out much at th' edge of th' water. I could even make it
out where he knelt to drink. There you are: a dead cow, with th' brand
skinned off; tracks of a man an' a cayuse at that water-hole; no herd
tracks, no other cayuse tracks--just them two, an' our suspicions. What
you think?"
Red chuckled. "I think we're gettin' somewhere, cussed slow an' I don't
know where; but I'm playin' up that skinned cow. If it was all skinned
I'd say a hide hunter might 'a' done it, an' that he made th' tracks
you saw; but it wasn't. You should 'a' looked better near th' carcass
instead of huntin' up th' water-hole. You might 'a' seen th' tracks of
a herd, or what th' wind left of 'em, 'though I reckon they drove that
cow off quite a ways before they dropped it."
"Did you cross any herd tracks after you left me?" asked Hopalong.
"No; why?"
"An' we didn't cross any before you left," said Hopalong. "If there's
been any to see runnin' east an' west we'd 'a' found 'em. That was all
hard ground; an' there was th' wind. There wasn't none to find."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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