Cain just Cain (Shad Cain Book 2)
Page 10
Off to my left there was a protruding limestone shelf that was pretty much as level as a pool table. The shelf started just at the edge of the clearing, where it was even with the ground. Then the ground sloped down and away, so that at the end of the shelf, the ground was about four feet lower. Dog was giving the end of that rock formation an awful lot of attention.
With teeth bared, his growling became more and more serious. So I told him, “Go on boy… See what it is.”
He shot away like a Fourth of July rocket. As he turned the corner at the end of the shelf; he was skidding and fighting for traction. Just around the corner he stopped and started to raise a ruckus. He was doing a fair impersonation of a wolf pack in a squabble.
I took off across the shelf, which wasn’t more than fifty or sixty feet. I figured whatever was there, would be below me, and I would be in a better shooting position. I wasn’t at all ready for what I came up against. Or maybe what came up against me. Just as I reached the end of the ledge, and was about to jump down… a young black bear rose up almost in my face.
I fired a shot close enough to his face to give him a good whiff of gun-smoke and flame. I didn’t want to kill or wound him because I didn’t have time to mess with skinning him or tracking him down. The smoke, flame, powder burn, and ringing in his ears sent him off into the pines.
Dog started after him, but I called him off as I jumped down. It wasn’t till I hit the ground, that I saw the body laying up against the base of that outcropping of limestone. I reckoned that the bear had found himself a meal. He hadn’t been working on it very long, and it didn’t look like it had been worked on by coyotes. So I deduced that it was part of somebody’s morning work. The body was wedged up against the base of rock and was facing away from me.
The first thing I had to do was push Dog away. He was sniffing the bear scent on the man. I suppose he was almighty curious… I know I was, although, I had a pretty fair idea who I would find when I turned him over. Sure enough, there lay the late Mr. Jesse somebody.
I looked around to see if there was any sign of Ben. He should have been through here and seen the body, unless he took out after Rita. Looking around for signs, I saw where his Dusty horse and the other one had stood here for a few minutes and then took off for the far side of the clearing.
I had just turned and started walking that way, when I heard a horse nikker. My rifle came up to ready and I made a dash to the nearest tree. At first I didn’t see anything, but I was able to pick out the black nose of a horse. Then the face and neck came into view among the trees across the clearing. It was looking my way, and when the empty saddle came into view, I was running across the clearing.
Ben’s horse, Dusty came out into the clearing to meet me. Taking the reins, I pulled him back into the trees and started looking for Ben. There was dried blood on the saddle. Dog nearly knocked me down getting past me and into the brush. A second later he was back and barking at me, and I was right behind him charging headlong into the undergrowth.
It was only seconds later that I found my friend on the ground and propped up against a tree. At first glance, I knew he was either hurt bad or dead. His shirt was a bloody mess, and I could see that he was hit low on the left. He had done a fair job of plugging up the hole in the front, so I moved him to see what the back looked like. It had gone on through. Not being a doctor, I didn’t know for sure what was in that part of a body. I knew there were livers and kidneys somewhere in there. And I knew there were several miles of gut, but I didn’t know if he was shot into any of those. But he was still breathing…And that was a very good thing.
There was a pint of medicinal whiskey in my saddle bag, so I brought the horses up. An hour later, I had cleaned the wound and had his shirt cut to ribbons for bandages. Ben was a big man fully dressed, but without his shirt, he was a really big man. I built a fire and set about making some broth to get some liquids back in him. He’d lost a lot of blood.
That front bullet hole didn’t look good at all. It was red and looked sore as a boil. I gave it an extra bit of whiskey. I knew that stuff would burn like hell, but he was out cold and never even flinched.
He’d come around and then go away just as quickly. I couldn’t detect any fever, which was always a good thing. I had my hopes, but I’m a realistic sort of fella, some people die no matter how much you don’t want them to. So all I could do was try to keep putting broth in him, keep him warm, and keep hoping for the best…. I reckoned a little appeal to Heaven wouldn’t hurt.
I’d patched up bullet holes, dug arrows out, and stitched up knife wounds, and it seemed like they all have their moment of truth around dawn. I’d heard a good number of last rattling breaths, and some weak calls for food and coffee as the sun came up.
With a great deal of nervousness, I watched as the sky started turning gray, and things around the campsite got a little more visible. I’ve always heard folks talking about, “daybreak”, or “the crack of dawn”. But deep in these wooded hills, there is no sudden coming of day. It happens so gradual that a body doesn’t even recognize it, until it’s already on you.
There I was, pondering that kind of stuff, when I heard, “What’s a hard working cattleman have to do to get some breakfast around here?” Maybe there was something to that little appeal to Heaven because my doctoring skills weren’t legendary. Whatever the causes of his coming around, I was sure glad for it.
Chapter 15
I spent the rest of the day playing nursemaid to a pretty impatient patient. He wanted meat, but I knew better, and so did he… broth was all he was gonna get that day. He was just being stubborn. He probably thought I would think less of him if he didn’t put up some kind of a fuss.
He spent most of the morning somewhere between being half awake and half asleep and all the way asleep. I didn’t figure it would serve any purpose to try and move him or try to get him to a doctor. I checked his wounds around noon and found that there wasn’t anything that looked suspicious. Everything looked red and sore, but nothing looked to be getting any worse. Both the front and back had stopped their heavy bleeding, but they were still weeping some.
I cut up some more of his clothing and got him wrapped up real good. He wasn’t very happy when I cleaned the wounds with some more of that whiskey. That was some of the strongest language I’d ever heard come out of his mouth. I guess he had earned a little cussin’ privilege. Ben Blue was a strong man with an equally strong constitution. I figured he’d take a heap of killing to get him under ground.
About mid-afternoon he sat up against a rock and I gave him some beef and beans. When he’d set his plate down he said, “Shad, I was only about a quarter mile away when I heard the shooting.”
“I came down that trail fairly rippin’ and rode right into it. Rita was up on her horse with the other one on a lead. She had her rifle in her hand, and she wasn’t more than forty yards away. She’d used a six-gun on… I suppose it was Jesse… I never did know, but I’d heard five or six pistol shots.”
“Anyway, we sat our horses looking at each other for a second or two… She had her rifle on me and I had a clear shot… I couldn’t miss at that distance… But I’d never shot a woman…. I hesitated.”
“The next thing I knew, she was lacing the air with hot lead, and I was trying to get under cover…. She must have taken a half dozen shots before she scored… The last thing I remembered was the sound of her horses beating their way up the trail.”
“You must have been awake long enough to try plugging your front wound up to staunch the bleeding.” I told him.
He looked at me funny for a blink of an eye and said, “I take it, by ‘front wound’ that must mean, I’ve got a back wound as well?”
“Yep… clean as a whistle… in and out… probably why there’s no infection, but you’re not out of the woods yet. We need to get you to a doc.”
“I’ll be able to ride tomorrow. We’ve lost too much time already.”
“You mean, I’ve lost too much time.
The only place you’re goin’ is Creede and back to New Mexico.”
He didn’t like that much, but I wasn’t worried. He couldn’t reach his guns, so I was the new boss. He might be in shape to ride into Creede, but he wouldn’t be fit for man-hunting for three or four weeks.
Ben’s other horse came up to the fire during the night. He was all right, but he’d been scratched and marked up a bit. Horses are known to be social animals. Of course they would rather socialize with other horses, but they don’t mind socializing with goats and dogs. If a horse gets hard up for company, they’ll hang out with people as a last resort. I reckon that critter just got lonesome. I was just flattering myself, thinking that horse came to me, but I knew it really came in because of the other horses.
~~~~~ 0 ~~~~~
Ben swore an oath that he was up to the trip into Creede and a doctor. I was sure he’d make the ride alright. The only thing I was worried about was that he might start bleeding again. But the sooner he got some proper doctoring, the better off he’d be. So we broke camp… or I broke camp.
I saddled his Dusty horse for him. I wouldn’t worry about him riding that one. That’s probably the savviest horse I’d ever been acquainted with. Ben’s legs were a little shaky, so I walked him over to the shelf where I’d found Jesse. From the ledge, he was able to just step into the saddle.
By the time we reached the main trail, He was starting to weave in the saddle, so I stopped and tied his right hand to the saddle horn and his boots to the stirrups. That way, if he passed out, at least he’d stay in the saddle. I’d been asleep in the saddle more than a few times with my hand lashed to the horn.
Ben was out cold when we rode into town. I didn’t know if he had passed out or was just asleep. I guess it didn’t make much difference. Folks started gathering as we rode down the main street. Several pointed out the doc’s office and we headed straight for it. There were plenty of hands ready to help him out of the saddle and carry him inside.
I had no more gotten through the door, when the town marshal came charging through the onlookers. He started asking questions, and I held up my hand to stop him.
“Marshal, you hold your questions for a few minutes till I get my friend squared away with the sawbones. Then we can have a chat.”
He backed off and said, “Sorry, Cain, I got a little ahead of myself… First things first… come on over to the office when you get him settled.”
The doc took him into the doctorin’ room, and I waited with those who needed something to do. In about twenty minutes he came out and motioned me inside. I waited while he lit a stub of a cigar and took a few puffs on it.
“Well, sir, I think your friend is going to be just fine, with a little rest and some stitchin’. You did a good job of keeping it clean and stopping the bleeding. Keeping it clean is about as important as the bleeding…. Either one can kill a fella…. What’d you use, whiskey?”
“Yep…. Learned that back in Tennessee. Whiskey can cure you or kill you.”
“It probably saved his life… He won’t be worth much for a few days, but he should be fit to ride out of here in a couple of weeks… You any kin or a friend?”
I told him he was a good friend and that I’d be back in the morning before I left. Then I took the horses to the livery stable and stowed our gear. That done, I walked down to the Marshal’s Office to give him an update.
No sooner had I walked through the door than I was assaulted with a hundred questions at once. I took one question at a time and tried to answer it before he asked another. He was happy to learn that two of them were gone, but he was some upset that the two with the money were still out there. I told him how they had split up and gone in two different directions, while the posse just kept going.
“That’s the problem with not having anyone who knows how to read a trail. Most of these folks are storekeepers, farmers, or miners… We need a couple of Injuns in town.”
I told him that I could send a couple of Utes in to see him and maybe they could set up their lodges on an empty lot. He gave me a funny look and then chuckled and said, “No thanks.”
“Marshal, I’m going to leave here in the morning as soon as Marshal Blue gets his eyes open. I’ve got good information that they’re heading for Denver. So you might let the law up in Denver know that their heading that way… I noted that they’ve got the telegraph line clear up to South fork. If someone could get a message off, they might catch ‘em for me.”
“I’ll sure take care of that… Anything else?”
I thought for a moment and then asked for a piece of paper and pencil. When he produced it I wrote:
To: Sheriff Nelson, Taos, New Mexico
From: S. Cain, Creede, Colorado
Ben Blue wounded… fine in a few weeks… On my way to Denver after them. Sending Blue home as soon as can travel… Get word to Miz Blu.
Cain
I handed the paper to the marshal and said, “Can you send this one the other direction to Taos? Sheriff Nelson will go out and tell Patty Anne and them.”
“Sure… no problem…. Uh, Cain… is it true that he used to ride with Hickory Jack Moore? He must be some kind of tough hombre.”
“Yeah, they rode together. Moore’s folks raised Ben till they were killed… then the boys set out after them that done it… He’s tough alright… about the toughest I’ve ever known… and tough minded too. But he hesitated to shoot a woman…. She didn’t.”
The marshal was a good man and a tough man. He had to be to keep this town under control with the silver boom that was going on at the time. He was young but he’d be all right, if he survived the next few years in Creede.
I went to the hotel and got myself a room for the night. Dog was waiting for me when I came out the front door. He had straw stuck here and there. He would be bedding down at the livery with the horses. We walked down to the saloon for a drink. He’d been there before, so they were used to him. He never caused trouble unless there was trouble that needed to be dealt with.
Old Percy was sitting outside the door where I’d last seen him over a month ago. I stopped and passed the time with him, while he picked the straw out of Dog’s coat. Dog liked old Percy. The old fella was just hanging on. I suspected that he didn’t get all he needed to eat every day, so I didn’t mind buying him a couple of drinks and now and then a meal.
Clyde, the bartender had three beers set on the bar when we got to it. Two were in mugs and the other in a bowl. I set the bowl on the floor for Dog. The big brute sniffed at it and began to lap it up. I don’t know if beer was good for him or not, but he liked it, so I gave him a bit now and then. For that matter, I didn’t know if it was good for me either.
My friend, Percy and I had been going through this routine for several years, so he knew that I wasn’t much of a talker. He would just accept the beer and make a comment now and then to be sociable, but not enough to annoy me. This time, he asked about Ben with a sincerity that spoke to real concern… and I appreciated that.
When we’d finished our beers, I asked Percy if he’d had his supper yet and he said, “No… as a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
“Well, why don’t you just come along with me and Dog, and we’ll all put on the feedbag?”
He thought that was a grand idea, so I picked up the bowl and set it on the bar along with a few coins. We said our adioses to the bartender and started to turn for the batwings.
“You treat that dog better than I treat a woman.”
I turned and was looking at a big burley miner sitting at the closest table looking back at me with a smirk. His friend sitting with him put a hand on his sleeve, and the miner shook it off. I read his sign without having to find his tracks, so I figured I might as well get it over with.
“You learn to treat your women better… you’ll find your life could get a bit more pleasant.”
“I get no complaints.” He said as he straightened in his chair.
I looked him over real good and said, “Oh… My mista
ke. I took you for a hard rock miner; I didn’t realize you was a pig farmer.”
That brought him out of his chair. He was big and rough looking… maybe a little shorter than me but broader. So I held out a hand to stop him and said, “Let’s take this outside. I don’t want Clyde to have to use all his sawdust soakin’ up your blood.”
“Fine with me.” he said as he headed for the door.
When we got to the boardwalk, which was about two feet above the street I asked, “Here or in the street?”
Turning his head, he looked to the street. As he was turning back to me, I let him have a good solid, hard knuckled left to right side of his jaw… just below the hinge. His head snapped back in the direction which it had been coming from, and the rest of him followed. The big miner… or pig farmer hit the street facedown and didn’t move.
His friend just looked at him and at me and said, “Now, was that any kind of fair play?”
“Friend… anytime a man is looking for trouble, there ain’t no playin’ involved…If he’s gonna live in this country, he needs to keep his big mouth shut.”
“You ready for some grub, Percy?” I asked as we started walking toward the eatin’ house. If I knew Dog, he’d beat us to it and go straight to the back door for handouts.
Chapter 16
Dog was waiting for me as I came out of the hotel the following morning. His coat showed a new sprinkling of straw, and his muzzle had a few tufts of rabbit fur. I figured he’d still have enough room for the back door handouts at the eating house.
When I walked into the place where the doc had Ben bedded down, I found him laying in a bed. He was propped up with pillows and awake, but he looked pretty pale and weakish. The doc’s pretty young nurse was sitting in a chair beside the bed and taking notes.
“Oh… I didn’t know you were busy.” I told him. “I’ll wait out in the office till you’re finished.” I figured they were talking over medical business, and I didn’t want to be around if she started giving him a bath or something.