The Bitterroot Trail

by James W. Johnson

  Bob turned to Shorty. "Have Jim put up the horses and unpack. We can't follow now; we've got to have rest, and so have the horses."

  "But Jim ain't here, Bob," Daisy informed them, drying her tears. "I sent him to Lewiston for supplies so's we can hit the trail for the Basin."

  "What?" asked Bob in surprise. And before he knew what he was doing he threw both arms about her. "Doggone if you aren't a real pal, Daisy! And I'll drill any bow-legged son of Satan who ever calls you Strawberry Roan again. And that goes for you too, Shorty."

  "Did you notice that, Shorty?" Daisy cried. "Why can't you do it like that?"

  "Go ahead and do it, Shorty, before I clout you to sleep."

  Shorty stood like he was paralyzed for a moment. Then suddenly grabbing her about the waist, he pulled her over his hip and whirled her around until she cried out.

  Bob laughed. "That's a trial, Shorty, but you're a hell of a lover. Come on, let's put the horses up. And, Daisy, see that we have something ready to eat when we get back. Tonight we're going to have a marriage celebration. Jack, send word to every man in camp. Everything but the bride will be free for all, with the compliments of Shorty."

  "Who the hell says I'm goin' tuh be spliced?" Shorty demanded, but with a smile on his face.

  "I do. Got any objections, medicine man?"

  "Where's the Bible?" Shorty challenged.

  "Bible?" retorted Bob. "He'll use the dictionary if we can't find a Bible."

  "Yore a damn pore mother, that's all I got to opine, an' after all I've done fer yuh. I'll make yuh wisht yuh'd a died afore yuh ever stepped out o' yore first bath."

  They were still wrangling when they left the saloon to take their horses to the stable.

  Daisy, as an act of appreciation, ousted the cook and turned the venison steaks with her own hands. Above the sizzling pan arose her coarse contralto voice. "Yankee Doodle went to town " Looking up from her work she saw Jim Dale standing in front of her with his mouth open, and his face a question mark.

  "Hello, Jim, I'm glad you made such a quick trip. You're just in time. I'm going to be married, and I'll put another steak in the pan."

  "Wal, I'll be tee-totally damned!" he ejaculated and sank into the nearest chair.

  "On a load of switches--" she sang. "Bob and Shorty's back, Jim, and we're goin' to the Basin." Her voice rose again, "He pulled and I pulled--done to a crisp--and off come his britches."

  "Wal, I'll be tee-totally damned!" repeated Jim, getting to his feet. "I'm goin' tuh ask Shorty!"

  17

  AFTER PLUMMER'S FAILURE TO ROB THE FORD Saloon in Oro Fino, he and his five disreputable companions, who had met him by prearrangement from Florence, pushed on toward Elk City. Plummer would not admit he was a coward, but he was no fool. He realized that the days of the outlaw, from Oro Fino west, were numbered. The growth and effectiveness of the Vigilance Association had arisen to exaggerated proportions in his mind. Had he known how few there really were he might have altered his plans materially.

  The one thing in the world he feared was a Vigilance Association. He had had experience with them in California and had been forced to leave that rich territory on the run. The gold strike of Bannock Territory he considered as an act of Providence for his special benefit. He had milked a part of the territory dry, and as inevitable changes came there was but one thing to do--follow the boom to its source while the picking was good.

  It was past midnight when they camped on the trail. Plummer was morose and ugly. Along with his joy at putting Cleveland out of the way was a greater hatred of Pokerface Bob, the leader of the Vigilantes. He was sure that Cleveland had double-crossed him, hoping to gain favor with the captain.

  These hard men talked little as they prepared supper and sat in a ring about the camp fire. They were all aware of the ugly spirit their leader was in, and no one cared to cross him. He leaned back against the log they had drawn up to the fire, filled and lighted his pipe before speaking.

  "Men, I'm going to ace that damned Yankee sympathizer, Pokerface Bob; but I'm going to do it in my own way and at my own time. What's more, I'm going to do it personal. He's going to follow us into the Basin without fail. Now, that's just what I aim for him to do. He'll bring some of his best men with him, but it won't be enough to do him any good, for I will have nearly a hundred of my men from the different camps drift in."

  No one made any comment as he silently smoked.

  Finally he began again. "The Basin will be a rich field for operation, gents, but I don't want anything pulled off against my orders. We're going in there a few at a time, and to the strangers we're just poor deluded prospectors. You'll stake some kind of a claim and start work."

  This last information brought a nasty chuckle from a swarthy bearded fellow directly across the fire. "I'll prospect, all right, boss, but it won't be with a pick an' shovel."

  Plummer's eyes burned like fire "You'll obey orders, Nate, or you won't never live to see the Basin!" he warned dangerously. A short silence followed. "Wait till I get through talking to you. There's going to be a new territory of the United States created, I'm sure this winter. If so, then there'll be an election of officers in the early spring. I'm going to set my cap for sheriff maybe, and, with my gang, I can be elected. Hell! Can't you see what that'll mean to us? Pokerface Bob will come in and find that his claws are clipped by the very law he's such a lover of." He laughed hatefully. "By cripes, I'm going to change shoes with him! The Vigilance captain becomes an outlaw and Plummer the sheriff!"

  His henchmen chuckled with him at his intended joke.

  "An' yuh mean we gotta turn our shootin' irons intuh shovels an' picks?" asked Nate again.

  "Nate," Plummer ridiculed, "you've got a head on you like a pine knot. Can't you see that more money can be made under the protection of the law? Suppose you pull a deal--get caught. Won't we have enough men in our gang to swear you out of hell?"

  A sheepish grin came across the man's face as the truth sank in.

  "Nate, you and Brad and Buck take first guard over the horses. We'll relieve you about four."

  The three men arose and sauntered away in the dark. The other two sitting beside Plummer stood up and stretched sleepily, crawled under their blankets, and were soon snoring.

  Plummer refilled his pipe and continued to sit by the fire in meditation. Unconcernedly he drew a long dirk from his boot top and sharpened it on the leather, testing its keen, glistening edge with his thumb. Then, slipping it back into place he arose and walked toward his bunk a few feet away. For a moment he peered furtively about. The men were snoring evenly. He stepped carefully to keep from breaking a twig or making any unnecessary noise, and disappeared in the darkness. A half hour later he returned and crept under his blankets.

  At four o'clock he called the sleepers and sent them to relieve the other guards. "You won't need me. We'll be on the trail in a couple of hours. I'll get breakfast."

  They had not been gone more than half an hour when Buck came running back into camp, all out of breath. "Plummer! Nate Nate, he's been killed! Most likely by Injuns! He was stabbed!"

  "What?" Plummer demanded, rearing up in bed.

  "Nate dead? Why, how could a prowling Injun stab him when he was on a horse?"

  "Don't know, boss. His horse was trailin' the reins. Maybe he got off fer a drink or something, an' the Injun stole up behind him an' stuck him."

  "Any tracks of Injuns around?"

  "Nary a one as we could find. Gawd! It gives me the heebe jeebies!" Buck shuddered. "Reminds me o' the time Badger was killed in the hotel in Lewiston an' we found him layin' in front o' Pokerface Bob's room!"

  "Shut up!" rasped Plummer, getting up. "When you mention that Yankee my blood runs white hot! Have the men bury poor Nate and bring in the stock. I'll have breakfast ready and we'll hit the trail."

  The man hesitated. "Ain't yuh goin' tuh try tuh locate the Injun tracks an' foller 'em?"

  "I thought you said there weren't any tracks, Buck. He was l
ikely murdered by some roaming buck, and we've no time to go gunning for one lone Injun. Get going."

  These hard men had come to look upon death as one of the necessary events of this western life, and made no more mention of it as they packed their animals and made ready for the trail. They ate breakfast of bacon, scones, and coffee. Then packing their utensils, Plummer himself rode in the lead. As was customary, one man rode possibly five hundred yards ahead, scouting for pack trains that might be laden with rich caches of gold dust, or for possible marauding Indians.

  Near noon Plummer halted and waited until the train came up to him. "There's a train coming up the trail. Get into the brush. They're headed for the outside. We need the horses, and dust too, if there is any."

  Quickly they scrambled into the brush beside the trail and waited. Presently a man appeared, riding a fine bay gelding and leading two pack horses. He was whistling softly, and though he had a stubby black beard he couldn't have been over twenty-five.

  Plummer rode out to meet him. "Hello, stranger!" he greeted affably.

  "Howdy!" called the man cheerily, bringing his horse to a stop.

  While they were exchanging greetings, four men with drawn guns slipped up behind him, two on either side. Plummer's face changed to hard metallic lines; his voice became chilled.

  "Hop off, stranger, you're riding my horse!" he commanded, as his hands slipped to his holsters. "Don't go for your guns--you're covered!"

  The astounded victim glanced about to see four guns pointing their muzzles dangerously at his middle. He dismounted without a word.

  "Now, that's what I call reasonable, stranger. If all the travelers on this trail was as sensible as you there'd be less trouble," Plummer gloated.

  "But what am I going to do here in this wilderness without a horse?" the stranger asked.

  Plummer broke into a hearty laugh. "Hell's fire, all the walking ain't taken up!"

  "But I've nothing to eat," the man protested. "You couldn't leave a man to starve?"

  "That's right. Seeing you've been so reasonable I'll let you take a little snack along. Men, let him get some vittles out of his pack. But if he makes the least move toward his guns, finish him!"

  The stranger took the bandana from about his neck and filled it with cold scones and a small piece of bacon and picked up a paper of coffee.

  "Wait!" Plummer interrupted, thumping him with his quirt. "We can't spare any coffee. You sure got a gall, stranger. You're robbing us blind. That's enough now. Get on with you."

  Red anger surged to the man's face as he tied the corners of his pack around the precious food. Then, drawing himself up to his full six feet of manhood, he faced Plummer, who sat slouched in his saddle with a grin on his face.

  "My name's Pete Ranger, stranger! Remember that name!" he spoke slowly and distinctly. "I'm only lendin' you this outfit an' ten thousand in gold. When I collect I'll demand twice that in interest!"

  Plummer broke into a derisive laugh. "Get going, crow bait, before I see how many buttons I can shoot off your pants!"

  For a long moment after the victim had disappeared, Plummer sat thoughtfully gazing in the direction he had gone, while his henchmen ransacked the packs for loot.

  18

  IT TOOK SOME PERSUASION TO INDUCE SHORTY to consent to go through with the marriage ceremony which Bob had proposed. It wasn't because he didn't secretly want Daisy, but because he was afraid he was tying a millstone around his neck.

  They were walking from the stable back to the saloon. "It's the only thing, Shorty," Bob was saying. "We need Daisy. We can't leave her here. Don't you know, you bow-legged rascal, she'd stand on her head in the middle of the Clearwater River for you if you said the word?"

  "Wal, I ain't sayin' I could always git along without Daisy, fer I knows that sometime, in a fit o' weakness, I'd go 'stray an' be damned glad o' it. I guess I might as well shut my eyes an' take the pill one time as well as 'tother."

  "I wish I were as lucky as you, partner. My poor gal is way out between here and the Basin, and in the hands of the worst bunch of cutthroats who ever trod the earth. We've got to find her partner, and Daisy will be great company for her."

  Shorty ate a worried supper, and shied nervously when Daisy brushed blushingly beside him. Bob enjoyed their confusion. Jim, who hadn't had a chance to talk to Shorty and verify what Daisy had told him, sat glum. It was evident from his looks that he considered the marriage a calamity.

  "What did you bring back from Lewiston, Jim?" Bob sat down beside him. "We've got to check up as soon as we can, for we're loading out for the Basin."

  "Miss Daisy done tol' me that, Bob, so I took it on myself tuh stock up. I got flour; beans, bacon salt, brown sugar loaf, coffee, some garden seeds--even melons."

  "How in the name o' all heck air yuh goin' tuh work a placer claim with melon seeds?" Shorty snorted.

  "Wal, I thought we might want tuh plant a little garden," Jim answered helplessly, looking to Bob for support.

  "A splendid idea, Jim." Bob slapped him on the back. "Did you forget boots and tools?"

  Jim grinned. "Shore didn't, Bob. Daisy, she tol me about the tools, an' I got the boots out o' my own hard. I bought six more pack mules. Daisy said tuh buy four, but I had enough tuh git six. Got a bargain on 'em."

  "Let's see " Bob figured, "that gives us fourteen pack animals again."

  "That gives us eighteen," Jim corrected. "I bought four last trip."

  Bob slapped him on the back again, so hard he almost choked on a mouthful of potatoes.

  "You're a trump, Jim. You didn't forget anything. Now, Daisy, you'd better turn the place back to the cook and get spruced up. Jim, have the fiddlers start the music. The crowd 's coming already."

  Shorty grabbed Bob's arm. "Gawd! I'm fidgety as a hen with a flock o' little ones, Bob! What do I do, take her on my knee, er somethin'? Yuh got tuh stand by me through this, podner! I'm doin' this tuh please yuh. I hopes tuh the good Lord I gits this back on yuh!"

  It was an odd assemblage that gathered in Ford's Saloon that night to witness the first marriage ceremony in Oro Fino. Rough-bearded miners had come en masse in their best jeans; and the dancehall girls, flashily dressed, cast envious glances at the lucky Daisy, who was now coming down the stairway. She was wearing a close-fitting, gold colored bodice, with a full ruffled skirt to match, made to stand out more by several starched ruffled petticoats underneath. In her red hair she wore an oak leaf. Her face was aglow with happiness.

  She was accompanied by Nora, the chaperon who had come into Oro Fino with her. In striking contrast with the slender Daisy, Nora was fat, well-hipped, with shining black hair parted in the middle and knotted at the nape of her neck. She wore a beruffled white dress which made her look pounds heavier.

  Bob and Shorty were standing near the banisters. Shorty was self-conscious in his new buckskin pants and double-breasted flowered vest. His knees would have knocked together if he hadn't ridden so many horses in his life. His teeth chattered as he reached up to whisper to Bob.

  "Yuh durned fool, see what that danged petticoat done tuh me out thar in the timber that day? An' yuh remembers how I axed yuh tuh shoot me, like a gentleman, an' yuh wouldn't? The blame rests on yore haid, an' be damned! Them's my last words!"

  "Come on, brace up, Shorty!" Bob admonished.

  "Honest, Bob, I'd rather face a firin' squad'" Shorty bemoaned, but he got no further sympathy.

  Bob was not much on making speeches, but he did his best. "Gents and gals! Shorty here, and Daisy are going to get married. Has anyone in the house got such a thing as a Bible?"

  There was a silence; then someone tittered.

  Finally, an old man, stoop-shouldered and grey, hobbled forward.

  "Here's a Testament, neighbor. Many is the couple I've married intuh wedlock."

  "Just the thing. Are you a minister?" Bob asked.

  "No. I was a Jestice o' the Peace once back in Iowa. I ain't got no jurisdiction here."

  "You've got as much
of that as anyone, and I think it will be all right. Come on, they're both anxious." Bob handed him back the small Testament.

  The old man smiled as he took it. "Stand here, young man," the Justice said, pulling Shorty from behind Bob. "The gal, here. Now, take hold of hands."

  Daisy shot a shy happy glance at Shorty, who looked small beside her.

  "What's yore name, young man?"

  "Wha-a-t?" Shorty stuttered.

  "Yore name?"

  "Shorty Windless!" prompted Bob, seeing that Shorty was paralyzed with fright.

  "An' yores, gal?"

  "Daisy Anna May Babcock," she answered promptly. "Quit shaking like that," she whispered to Shorty. "Look at the people staring at you."

  "Tha-t's what's the matter," he mumbled.

  Holding the small Testament toward them the old man began. "Put your free hands on the Bible." They obeyed. "Shorty Windless, do you take this gal to be yore lawful wedded woman, so help me, God?"

  "Shore!" He swallowed. "Parson."

  "An' Daisy Anna May Babcock, do you take Shorty Windless to be yore lawful wedded man, an' do you promise to love, honor an' obey him, in sickness an' in health, so help me that same Person?"

  "I do," she answered, then added the proviso, "especially in sickness."

  "Then I pronounces you man an' woman. Kiss her, Shorty."

  Upon the word, Daisy caught his two cheeks in her hands, stooped and kissed him square on the mouth. It was a great show and cheers rent the old shake roof. A general handshaking followed. Gradually Shorty came out of his shell of fear and called everybody to the bar and the celebration was on.

  The two fiddlers, beating time with their feet, were playing with all the enthusiasm of the masters, as their instruments throbbed and screeched with the pounding and scraping of many boots on the rough floor. Girls being in the minority, men danced together and sang boisterously as they whirled.