by Lou Bradshaw
Jogging at a pace that would equal what a horse could match on this overgrown trail wasn’t near as bad as it would have been going the other way. As soon as we hit level ground, I swung up into that often stitched up old saddle, and we were off to the races.
That bronc almost ran out from under me, he was that quick. Cow pony! I said to myself. They were almighty quick in the turns and the take offs, but I had to rein him in for a long run. Besides, I probably had thirty pounds over what he was used to carrying. Once we found a pace he could stick with for a while, he settled in to run.
I let him run for a bit then slowed him down to let Dog catch up and keep up. There was no dust behind me, which meant none of the three were chasing me. But I didn’t know this country and they did. If there was a shortcut, they may try to cut me off.
Remembering what this stretch of land looked like from up on the mountain, I recalled the first green area was maybe five to eight miles away. From that high, it’s hard to judge distance. The foot of that mountain extended out into the plain and then cut back to the left. I wouldn’t be able to see it from where I was, even if the base of the mountain wasn’t blocking my view. It would just be a hazy smudge of green among other smudges of many colors.
As we rounded the bulging mountain base, I got a look at the green I’d seen from up above. I could make out a number of cottonwood trees, grass, and assorted other bushes. It looked almighty pretty against that stark granite part of the mountain. The extra canteens were on my buckskins with Tobe and the boy. All I had was Crocket’s beat up canteen, which hadn’t been filled before we left in a hurry almost a day ago.
The plain wasn’t a bare desert, it had a good deal of vegetation growing in clumps, bunches, and patches. I’d seen mesquite, Manzanita in abundance, and patches of prickly pear as large as an acre. I call it a plain, but it’s by no means flat. It full of swales, humps, bumps, and gashes. But sitting on a horse, it looks flat. As I drew closer to what I was hoping was a water hole, I started picking out the individual trees and other features.
Pulling up, I wanted to get a good look at what I was so anxious to get to. I could see many tracks leading to it. Mostly, they were from desert creatures, but there were horse tracks also. There were unshod tracks, they were either from wild horses or Apache ponies… I had no way of knowing which, but I would expect the Apaches to know about this place. The unshod horse tracks were at least a week old, but I found some of them overlaid with shod track. I didn’t have to study those because they belonged to Bud. I’d seen enough of those to recognize them at a full gallop.
I was heartened to know they had made it this far. There was nothing that gave me cause to worry about the water hole. There was nothing I could put my finger on, but I was still cautious. First thing I planned was to get closer to the rocks along the base of the mountain. Moving in from the open plain didn’t fill me with confidence. So I turned Tobe’s bronc and started to my left. That was the instant I saw the flash.
That could only be one of a few things, and I didn’t wait around to analyze their probables. I just got the hell off that critter, diving straight to the ground. That bronc spooked and reared up. All that got him was a bullet under his chin and a splattered brain. His left rear leg was the first to go, and he fell, landing first on his hip, and then the rest of him was falling in my direction.
Chapter 11
All I could do was roll. As luck would have it I was laying in a way to roll away from his fall instead of trying to out roll his fall. I felt the ground quiver when that seven or eight hundred pounds hit the ground so close by. He didn’t kick or twitch, he didn’t even exhale. All his air must have been driven out by slamming to the earth.
My first thought was to work my way over to the slope and use the fallen boulders for cover. The shooter wouldn’t have a clear shot at me there, but I wouldn’t have a good shot at him either. And then there was that crawl through the brush. So I stayed where I was using that poor fallen mustang for cover. I wasn’t sure if all three of those braves came out or just one or two.
They must have figured this would be the first place I’d head for, one of them must have known of a shortcut because they sure didn’t pass me. But this was their home, and they would know it better than anybody.
I knew there was at least one man at the water, but he didn’t know if I was alive, dead, or wounded. And I wasn’t gonna tell him or them. If they want to take my scalp and count coup, they would have to come out here to do it and take their chances. Old Cain’s scalp won’t come cheap, and they’d have to pay the toll… I could wait.
Looking off to my right through the mixed brush, I finally located Dog. He was about fifty yards away and just laying there waiting. He’d been through this waiting business before, and he knew how I operated… we’d been together for a while.
Settling down for a long wait, I got as comfortable as I possibly could in a position, where I could keep an eye on Dog. He would be the best chance at having any kind of warning. I never knew where those flies came from, but they seemed to know whenever there’s a horse around. They especially knew when there was an injured or dead one. They were sure enough annoying, but I didn’t shoo them or swat them… I’d just have to deal with ‘em.
The afternoon started to drag on. I figured I’d been there for about a half hour, when Dog bunched his muscles under him. I took that to mean someone had come out into the open. Dog looked over at me to make sure I got the message. I made eye contact with him I got it. I wasn’t expecting him soon. The water hole was a good hundred yards away and that brave would be moving at a snail’s pace to keep the noise down.
When the hackles started coming up on Dogs neck it would be time for me to move. I went ahead and cocked my six-gun so as not to give myself away with a click close up. I was laying on my left side with my back to the dead horse and the shooter. In that position I could see Dog but nothing else.
Then I saw the hackles come up, and I knew he was close. As I started to make my roll, I felt the shadow on my neck. As I rolled, I brought that Colt up with my left hand and squeezed the trigger. With the sun behind him, I couldn’t see his face, and I didn’t especially want to. He took the slug in the middle of his chest and slammed straight back. A .44 bullet at that distance will do that to a person.
As quick as I could, I was in position perched behind the carcass with rifle ready looking for more. I saw movement between the trees and let one fly. I wasn’t expecting to hit anything, but I was giving him notice that he’d been seen. Within a few seconds, two Injun ponies came bolting out of the tree and heading north. One of those ponies was carrying a rider with only one leg showing. The rest of him was hanging on the far side of the horse. I tried another shot, but I didn’t get anything that time either. He was soon out of sight around a bend.
Dog trotted over to where I was standing. “Well old friend, looks like I’ll be walkin’ with you.” He didn’t say nothing… one of these days, he’s going to answer me and I gonna pass out cold. “We may as well get some of that water… Don’t reckon we’ll be catchin’ up with Tobe and the boy today… or tomorrow.” I told him.
I took what I could use off Tobe’s saddle and walked on to the water. His saddle wasn’t worth the effort of getting off the body. I made a pack of everything, and then I tied the ends together and slung it across my back. After tanking up on as much water as we were both comfortable with, I filled the canteen and we took off toward the railroad.
I figured the tracks to be about forty miles away. It was a good deal farther to Nogales, but we’d been traveling more east than southeast. Now we were going due north. We had four or five hours of daylight left, and there was no reason to waste them. I didn’t expect that young Apache to rally the troops too soon. He’d have to explain how come five men went out and only two came back. I figured the other young brave was taking the other bodies in. But if either one of them told a good enough story, they might get them riled up enough to come hunting.
> I’ve been known to walk forty miles in a day’s time, but that was when I was younger and full of vinegar. But barring any trouble, I reckoned I could still make better than twenty or more miles a day. Didn’t figure my moccasins would be worth pulling on by then, but the next Apache that comes my way may get buried barefooted…I kinda fancy those knee highs they wear.
As we rounded the next bend and found the trail those boys must have used to beat me to the water hole. From the tracks I could see where two ponies came out, but only one went home. I could also see where the dead brave’s pony ran off and didn’t go back with the other horse. He was nowhere in sight and I couldn’t be worrying about him. If I could call him in I would, but I’d have a hard time catching him on foot.
Looking north, all I could see was… north. There wasn’t anything else to look at. My feet were aching already, and I’d just got started. Dog walked beside me and he was good company. I could tell him almost anything and not worry about him spreading it all over creation. So I told him some deep dark secret every couple of miles… It kinda helped the miles pass.
We’d found water late in the afternoon, so we took advantage of the defendable location and spent the night. But bright and early the next morning we were on our way heading for the rails. We hadn’t gone a couple hundred yards when I spotted that runoff pony. He’d walked out of pines along the slope of one of those small mountains that hang around a bigger one. I turned and walked back to the water. Dog looked at the horse and then at me trying to figure what I wanted, so he turned and followed along.
When we reached the pool, I told him, “Dog… you’re supposed to be a shepherd …. Now go out and shep that critter to water.”
Then I made a motion with my right hand where I reached out and made a big half circle bringing it back to me. As old Rubio had showed me, and I’ll be danged if he didn’t slither out in a wide circle to where he wound up behind that critter. And from then on it was like a fancy dance in a ballroom. The pony would go left and Dog would be there waiting for him. Within a few minutes he had the pony close enough to the water that he just gave up and came on in.
That horse wasn’t in the least bit worried about me, but he sure wasn’t crazy about that big homely wolf that I was running with. His saddle blankets had slipped in the rawhide rigging and were hanging almost to his belly. So while he drank, I fixed his blankets and tied my stuff on behind them. The hackamore bridle was still on him but I took it off while he drank.
I let him drink a bit then I pulled him away for a while, and just before we left I let him drink again.
Chapter 12
It was about mid morning of the third day, when we found the rails. I had no idea where Tobe Crocket had reached the rails, so all I could do was make a good guess as to whether he went east or west. The rails were here and the wires were here, so it could have been either direction… I’m left handed and would be drawn to that direction, so I turned right. And a good choice it was.
I found the tank, the telegraph shack, the siding, a saloon, general store, and a few adobes. All were built on the railroad right away. Soon there’d be stock pens going up on the other side of the siding, but this was the beginning.
Pulling up at the station, I went inside to the telegraph man and asked him about Tobe and the boy.
“Well there was a young feller came in day before yesterday. It was late afternoon, and I was gettin’ ready to go to supper. He sent off a telegram and said he needed to wait here till someone met him here…. I let him stay in the tool shed yonder. But there weren’t no boy with him… But if you was the one sposed to meet him… you may be too late.”
“Did he leave?”
“Almost, in a manner of speakin’… somebody shot him real good. They took him over to the saloon, and a couple of oldtimers dug the bullet out… last I heard, he was still hangin’ on, but that was last night.”
I didn’t even wait for him to finish, I was on my way to the saloon. I near knocked those batwings off their hinges going through them. The five or six patrons jumped off their chairs as I come bustin’ in.
“Slow down mister… there’s plenty to go round… It ain’t much good nohow.” The bartender calmly yelled as I slid to a stop.
“You got a young fella here that was shot the other day?”
“Yeah, he’s in the back room.” He motioned with his thumb.
“Is he still alive?”
“He was when I come in this morning… Don’t know fer sure right now.”
I went through the door to the back room and found Tobe laying on a table. He was all bandaged up around the upper chest area. His face was pale as a sheet, but he was alive and he was awake.
“What happened, boy?”
“I sent off those telegraphs… and me and little Alan went to set up in the tool shed….” He took a couple of racking coughs and tried to get his breath back. I gave him time and he went on…. “The door busted open and this big fell come in and said he’d come for the boy…. Then he shot me. Next thing I know, I was wakin’ up in the saloon.”
“You just rest, and I’d get them to bring in some food and water… You’ll need plenty of water.”
A hundred things were bouncing around inside my head as I went back into the saloon. I went back to the bar and told the bartender to fix him up a bowl of soup or stew or whatever he had on the stove, and take it to him.
“I ain’t no waitress…. If he wants something to eat he can come and get it.” He said without looking up.
Grabbing a handful of shirt collar and was just about ready to unload a big left fist where he sticks his cigar, when a voice from the back of the room called out,
“Hold on there… Norm, you better go fix that young feller up. I’ve knowed that left handed punch way too well… I spent a winter in the Tetons with him…. trust me, you don’t want any part of what he’s got…. You get him mad enough and he’ll rip this whole place right down around your ears.”
I knew the voice, even though I hadn’t heard it in better than ten years…. You’ll never know what will set a fella off till you’ve been stuck in a ten by twenty cabin for a few months. Old Coonskin Kelly was a good man, and I got some scars to prove it, so without turning to look I said,
“I remember that winter Coonskin… it’s a wonder either of us are still alive… you got my back?”
“Yessir, these boys don’t want your kind of trouble… I think you can let go of Norm now. He’ll be happy to get that boy some grub.”
Looking at Norm’s scrunched up sweaty shiny face, I let go, and he about coughed himself to death. When he could talk, he said,
“I’ll get him fed right pronto… it was just a little misunderstanding. I thought you was talkin’ about someone else.”
Norm disappeared into the back, and Coonskin joined me at the bar. We exchanged some pleasantries and I poured him a drink and asked,
“You the one who dug the bullet out of him?”
“Yep… He missed the big rendezvous up yonder by about this much.” Coonskin held his thumb and forefinger real close together and went on, “She was tricky goin’ there for a while, but I reckon he’ll be fine in a bit…. If I’d knowed he was a friend a yourn, I’d a done some fancier stitchin.”
“Coon… there was a little boy with him… looked kinda like an Injun, but he was a towhead with white yella cornsilk hair... did you happen to see him?”
He said he hadn’t, “But it was awhile since we heard the shot before they brought this one in.”
We went back in to see to the feeding, and Norm was just getting set up. We went ahead and propped Tobe up, so he could eat. I thanked Norm and paid him for the drinks and food. He went back to the bar.
“Did you take Alan into the station with you?”
“Yeah, and I almost got in a fight with the telegraph man. He didn’t want no Injuns in there. When I pointed out the yella hair, he was fine and said we could bunk in the tool shed.”
“That’d be Turner.�
� Kelly said. “He’s sure afraid Gris Lobo’s bunch gonna come over the border and scalp him… He come in a little before the shot… In a big hurry, he was…. I thought the red devils was comin’ down the tracks…. But he just had a word with Fargo and a drink and left.”
“Is Fargo here now?”
“No… come to think of it, ain’t seen him since.”
“Tobe… you pay that telegraph man?”
“A dollar a piece, it was… gave him cash money.”
“I got some more telegrams to send, and I need to have a talk to Mister Turner…. Coon, can you kinda take watch over this young fella? I may have to leave for a spell.”
“You have any idea where that big buckskin horse this boy was ridin’ is?” I asked.
“Turner put it in the railroad corral, said that if the boy didn’t make it, he had first dibs on it.”
All I did was bare my teeth and storm out. It was only about fifty yards to the station, and I made it in less than twenty seconds. Dog was at my heels and we walked through the door together. Turner was sitting at his telegraph machine facing the tracks. He turned half around and said,
“You can’t bring that dog in here. If you got business, you go outside and come around to the ticket window… I’ll serve you there.”
I just walked up beside where he was sitting. His machine was clickity clackitying away, so I just pulled my tomahawk and sunk it into the counter and cutting the wires in the doing. His eyes got big and round. He couldn’t believe I did what I just did… Well, he’d soon become a believer.
He started huffin’ and puffin’ up and not really knowing what to say. I pulled the hatchet out of the pine board and asked,
“You like your job, Turner?” He nodded meaning he did, so I asked, “Do you want to keep it?” He nodded again.
