by Jim Cox
All of a sudden, Lefty became alarmed. I ain’t heard a sound from those hoodlums all morning, and normally I can hear ‘em stirring around, he thought. Could it be they’ve slipped off without me knowing it? Lefty was a little perplexed because he heard sounds from the thugs’ horses but none from the men. I’ll have to be careful, he thought, maybe the men are still up there but are being quite for some reason. Lefty jumped up and hurried through the trees to the edge of the cliff. Nothing, absolutely nothing. He couldn’t see any movement atop the hill, and there were no human sounds whatsoever. “They’ve gone,” he whispered. “How did I let that happen without knowing it? I suspect they left early this morning and by now have at least a half-day’s ride ahead of me.”
Lefty hurried back to the fire and doused it out with what was left in the coffee pot and a bit of water from the water skin. Then he quickly saddled Star, tied his bedroll behind, and packed his supplies in the saddlebags. After looking around to make sure he’d packed everything, he reached for Star’s rein and started walking toward the trail that led up the cliff.
Lefty’s suspicions were right. Three saddled horses were tied to tree limbs, but the thugs had gone. They didn’t have the decency to set their spare horses free. But then an idea came, I’ll take them with me and change horses from-time-to-time in my chase; it’ll speed things up considerably. Lefty stooped down to examine the thugs departing horse tracks. The sharpness of the dirt around the tracks was crumbly, indicating they’d left several hours ago. Lefty shook his head; he was ashamed of himself for letting them slip away without his knowledge and was confident the thugs were now chasing his clan after the gold. If they catch up with them all five of my people will most likely be killed. Lefty corrected himself, there’s six people counting my baby. Lefty felt a lump in his throat as he hurriedly tethered the thug’s three horses to Star, stepped into the stirrup and said, “Let’s go, boy. We have a lot of hard riding ahead of us.”
The hoodlums’ tracks led down a valley between two mountains with no apparent effort to hide their travel. Not long after he left, the rain started. It was a slow, easy rain at the beginning but the storm came in and soon a hard, blowing rain was upon him as he rode down the valley. Lefty knew if the storm continued, it would wash out the tracks and his chase would be more difficult.
Star accepted the faster pace that Lefty was demanding of him without wavering. He seemed to know they were in a serious situation and speed was of the essence. On two occasions, Lefty came to where the thugs had taken a rest stop. Several piles of horse manure were concentrated together, and they’d left cigarette butts lying around both times. One stop had an empty whiskey bottle lying by ashes from a fire they had built. Lefty didn’t stop or slow down a bit. He kept to a fast, steady pace, switching horses from time-to-time to keep them fresh, determined to catch up with the hoodlums before they got to his wife and friends.
He was desperate to continue his chase even though the sunset had long past, but he knew the horses needed to eat and rest, and he did too. Lefty found a good patch of grass alongside a stream of water, and after hobbling the horses, he ate a corn dog washed down with stream water, and was soon under covers. Five hours later he was back in the saddle trying to make up time.
At mid-morning, the thugs’ tracks left the valley and started up the west mountain. Lefty followed. He was making some progress but not enough. Lefty figured that climbing up the mountain with the horse exchange he’d been practicing would give him a great deal of advantage and he should start to catch up.
On the third day after leaving the cliff, the prints were starting to show signs of freshness. Lefty knew he was making progress, but he wasn’t sure how much. By the end of the day, the thugs’ tracks had completed their upward climb and had descended into the valley at the mountain’s floor; and to Lefty’s surprise, the tracks started up the second mountain. He thought they’d travel down the valley for a day or so where the mountains were a mite smaller, but since they were climbing the mountain at this point, Lefty reconsidered his thinking about their route and now thought they were heading for the mountain cabin where he had found Suzan and where the hoodlums had spent a night.
After following their tracks for another day and a half across the mountain and half-way up another mountain where the cabin sat, Lefty saw smoke coming from the chimney and five horses in the barn coral. It was late afternoon when he got there, so he decided to ride off several hundred yards where the horses wouldn’t be seen or heard and spend the night. He needed to make plans and figure out his best approach to the situation. Tomorrow will be a big day, he thought.
Chapter Forty-One
When Lefty opened his eyes the next morning, the sky was full of stars, and the quarter-moon was bright; he figured it to be a couple hours before daybreak. The sky’s light penetrated the darkness enough for him to get around and prepare for the morning. He wanted to have everything ready to put his plan into action at first light.
Lefty started by sitting against a tree eating two Bear Paws washed down with canteen water. After eating, he checked his pistol to make sure the chambers were full, they were. He then filled the empty loops in his gun belt. Minutes later, he headed for the four horses tied to a rope line a few yards from where he slept. Star was the first to be saddled, and then the others followed; however, unlike the first three horses, Lefty didn’t put a saddle-blanket under the saddle of the last horse. It would be used in Lefty’s pursuit of the thugs.
Lefty brought all four horses within sight of the cabin, tied their reins to tree branches, and then sat against a tree keeping an eye out for signs the hoodlums were up. Time lingered. The new day was showing grayness when Lefty saw the cabin coming to life with the glow of a lantern. Not long afterward, belches of black smoke were coming from the chimney, and then men came out the door one-by-one, walked a few yards from the cabin and relieved themselves.
Lefty waited for the morning brightness, which was another half-hour, and then started putting his plan into action. With the saddle-blanket folded over his right shoulder, he carefully led Star through the trees to the blind side of the cabin and then slipped very quietly to the edge of the cabin next to the outside chimney. Lefty stepped into the saddle and then lifted himself to a standing position on the saddle, balancing himself with the chimney. This raised him high enough to place his knee on the cabin roof which then enabled him to pull himself to a standing position on the roof beside the smoking chimney, which was nearly even with his head.
After listening for a few minutes to make sure the thugs hadn’t heard him, Lefty placed the saddle-blanket over the smoking chimney and waited. Within minutes, he heard men calling out from inside the cabin, “What’s going on? The room is filling up with smoke from the fireplace. I’m getting out of here.”
“Hold on,” John, the ringleader, shouted. “Something ain’t right. There ain’t no reason the smoke should stop going up the chimney. I’m guessing someone has covered up the top of the chimney, and I expect it’s one of those men we’re chasing, probably that Lefty fellow.”
Within minutes, Lefty heard severe coughing, and then a man yelled out, “I ain’t gonna be able to stay in here much longer, boss; the smoke’s getting to me. I ain’t able to breathe and my eyes are on fire!” Not long afterward, the others were saying the same thing.
John was ready to give instruction when two of the thugs ran out the door, gasping for fresh air. After a few gulps, they looked toward the chimney on the roof and saw Lefty. From instinct, they quickly reached for their pistols, but they were a mite slow. Both laid dead a few feet from the cabin door. Lefty knew the others would soon be coming out and this time they’d probably be shooting as they ran from the door. He was ready. Seconds later, the last three came running out with bandannas over their noises and shooting at Lefty as fast as they could pull the trigger, but their bullets hit the rock chimney. Lefty returned the fire and had hit two of the men who were now dying of gut shots next to their cohort’s
dead bodies, but John, who was the last to come out, had just enough time to crouch behind a pile of firewood before Lefty could get a shot off at him.
Minutes passed in silence, nothing was happening. Neither man wanted to show himself. Lefty stood behind the chimney out of sight, and John was crouched low behind the woodpile; both men contemplating what they should do. We’re in a stand-off, I need to crawl off this roof and get John cornered for a clear shot. Lefty pulled the saddle blanket from the chimney before he put his plan into action. If I lay flat on the roof when I climb down, I should be out of John’s sight because of the roof’s angle. However, when Lefty laid flat on the roof and started his descend with his right leg dangling from behind the chimney, a shot rang out, and Lefty instantly felt an excruciating pain in his leg as he fell from the roof due to the force of the bullet; his pistol flying off into the brush. Luckily, Star had moved away from the chimney and ran off into the trees when the shooting had started.
John must have gotten to the chimney-side of the cabin for a shot when I was making my move to climb down, Lefty thought as he crawled about looking for his gun. Just then, John walked up with a big grin; he was still holding his pistol at his side.
“You ain’t good enough to get the best of me,” John snarled out. “I came after your gold, and I aim to get it. I figure I have plenty of time to catch up with your group ‘fore they get to the desert. And besides the gold,” he said grinning from ear-to-ear, “I figure on having my way with that pretty wife of yours. I’ve had my eye on her ever since she showed up; she’s a looker.” John paused and then continued, “Ain’t nobody in that group of yours capable of stopping me from doing anything I want.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched,” Lefty said looking up at John with a firm glare. “Hoodlums generally get stopped, and that includes you, even if you kill me.”
“I’m gonna kill ya’, but you ain’t dying right off. I want you to suffer a slow death and let the wolves and other varmints eat your remains for killing my men.” John thought on the matter and then said, “Of course, you did me a favor; the gold’s all mine now.” Lefty was about to say something when John raised his pistol and fired. Lefty fell to the ground, and everything went dark.
The bullet had entered his chest, inches below his collarbone, close to his right side, and because the shot was at such close range, the bullet went completely through his body.
John stood over Lefty with a smile while he loaded his gun’s empty chambers. “That’ll teach ya’,” he said to no one. Then he turned and headed for the barn to get his horse. As John rode from the barn toward the unconscious body minutes later, he forced his horse to step over it before putting his horse into a fast walk up the mountainside, heading for the gold. John was unaware that his horse had lightly brushed Lefty’s shoulder with his hind hoof when he stepped over him causing Lefty to wake.
As Lefty lay awake with blurry eyes, watching the hoodlum ride away in pursuit of his wife and friends, he reached for his pistol, but his holster was empty. He tried to crawl to the closest dead man for his gun, but he was unable to crawl. There is nothing I can do in my condition to stop the thug, he thought. Lefty laid back with watery eyes watching the thug ride up the mountain. His own demise was not considered.
He’d not been lying there long when he heard something behind him coming his way; it was Star. And as soon as Lefty saw Star, a thought came. After a couple of whistles, Star walked closer and stood beside Lefty. It took most of Lefty’s remaining strength, but after a couple attempts, he was able to unbuckle the long gun’s scabbard that hung under Star’s left stirrup and retrieve the buffalo gun and one of its cartridge. Lefty had to struggle to load the gun’s chamber with the cartridge, but he finally got it done. He turned onto his chest in spite of excruciating pain and laid the end of the gun barrel on a large rock. Lefty took a fast look at his prey who was now nearly five-hundred yards away and riding strong up the mountain. I’ve got to shoot. If I wait much longer, he’ll be out of range. Lefty put the stock to his left shoulder and pulled it tight. Then he took a breath and after letting part of it out, he aimed down the gun sights, but his vision was blurry, so he laid the gun down, took off his bandanna, and wiped his eyes several times with it. After they had cleared, he picked up the gun and repeated the procedures. With the gun sights on the back of John’s neck, Lefty let out part of his deep breath and squeezed the trigger. Lefty thought he saw the hoodlum flinch, but he wasn’t sure. As the buffalo gun slid from the rock it was resting on, he fell into unconsciousness again.
Chapter Forty-Two
It was twilight when Lefty woke with rain splattering on his face and excruciating pain in his leg and chest. Every breath sent a jab throughout his entire body. His mouth was so dry, it felt like it was full of cotton, and his mind was foggy and mostly void of what had happened since morning. He did remember being shot and John riding up the mountain in pursuit of Suzan and his gold.
As he lay there for several minutes in terrible pain, his mind cleared a bit, and the pieces started coming together of what had happened. He soon realized he must somehow get inside the cabin and tend to his wounds if he was to survive, but first, he’d take inventory of his condition. Lefty raised to his left elbow and looked around; he was lying in a red puddle of water. It’s probably colored red from my blood, he thought, looking down at his injured leg. The wool material around the bullet hole in his pants, just above his right ankle, was dried and crusty, indicating it had stopped bleeding; however, Lefty was concerned with the bulge in his pant-leg beside the hole and thought it might be a broken bone sticking up. It appears that John’s bullet has hit one of the bones in my leg, he thought. It’ll have to be set.
After carefully looking at his chest wound, Lefty concluded it was more serious than the leg injury. He figured a rib had been broken and the rib’s splintered end was resting against his right lung which was very serious and most likely causing most of the pain. He knew that any movement had the potential of the rib puncturing his lung. In addition to the broken rib, the bullet had gone through his body, and Lefty felt sure it had injured his lung considering its entry point.
The movement to examine his injuries was exhausting and brought on a higher degree of pain, forcing Lefty to lie back down. The pain seemed to be getting worse; it was almost unbearable. In fact, his body could not tolerate the pain any longer and threw itself into another state of unconsciousness.
Lefty was shivering when he woke. The rain had passed, leaving a clear sky above the Sierra Nevada Mountains with the stars and moon shining brightly. He noticed the moon was in its mid-night position. Lefty didn’t know what had caused his pains to lessen, but they had. Perhaps, it was the cold night air or maybe, his body had kicked in to handle the pain. Whatever the reason, it was time to get inside the cabin out of the elements where a fire could be built to warm himself, and where food and water was likely left behind when the thugs came running out.
Lefty tried to rise to his knees, but the pain pushed him back down. After resting a bit, he devised another plan. He pulled his left knee forward and dug the toe of his boot in the wet dirt, and while pushing with his leg, he pulled with his left forearm that he had placed under his chest. Then he rested. He hadn’t made much progress, but he’d made some. An hour later, he was lying on the cabin’s dirt floor just inside the door. It was much warmer inside the cabin, and he was exhausted. He was soon sleeping.
Lefty didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but when he woke, sunlight was showing through a crack in the door. As he lay there, he quickly came to the conclusion that he must do something to help heal his injuries if he was to live. In spite of the additional pain it caused, Lefty raised to his left elbow and looked around for things that might be used in his recovery. There was plenty of wood stacked by the fireplace, and the coals were still red. The table had the thug’s cups and filled plates on it and off to one side were two sacks that looked like they were filled with food i
tems. Also, sitting on the table were two bottles of whiskey; one full bottle and one-half full.
Lefty eased his body back onto the floor and lay thinking of his other needs. What I need the most, he thought, is a long cloth to wrap tightly around my chest to hold my broken rib in place. That should help in the healing process and reduce the pain. He was thinking where he might find a cloth large enough when the curtain divider that Suzan had bathed behind came to mind. He smiled, remembering the incident.
Lefty pulled himself to the fireplace and put three pieces of firewood on the grates. Then he swung the fireplace arm that held a full pot of coffee over the fire that was beginning to blaze. After a short rest, he pulled his body to the edge of the table and with his left hand he pulled himself up, standing on his left foot. He was dizzy, and the injuries hurt something terrible, but he was determined to get himself going. I wonder if I’m capable of putting any pressure on my right leg, he thought. To his surprise, his right leg supported him fine. The bullet injury hurt but there was no additional pain coming from a break. I must have been mistaken, he reasoned. My leg bone ain’t broken. That bulge must be swelling from me falling from the roof. Lefty was dizzy and very weak; he needed a crutch to help balance himself, so he looked around, and in the corner was an old shovel handle that reached to his shoulder.
The first thing Lefty did after he got his crutch was to remove his shirt, and pour whiskey on the wounds, front and back. After giving the bullet holes in his chest a good soaking, he took a long swig of whiskey and then another. It felt good going down and seemed to warm him a bit, so he swallowed a third gulp.
