Blue Norther (Ben Blue Book 4)

by Lou Bradshaw

  We were in a cozy little camp in no time. We weren’t the first ones to use it. It had been built up here and there for wind protection or for bullet and arrow protection. More than a few fires had been laid in that ring of rocks. When I had a good warm fire going, I went back to our buffalo benefactor to apologize, thank him, and get about twenty pounds of buffalo meat. The wolves, coyotes, and buzzards would be coming in a day or two. Thankfully, we’d be gone before he began to ripen.

  Our camp was set back a ways from the water hole, which was at a lower level, and it had been much larger at one time. Probably it was fed a spring that was losing its fight against a dropping water table and an increased demand from cattle. I drove the travois poles into the ground and spread that buffalo hide between them to act as a reflector for the fire. Scouting around the oasis I found a decent supply of firewood. There wasn’t enough to keep us warm for too many days of bitter cold, but we’d be all right for a few. When I’d gotten everything in order and some food and broth into Sam, I went about changing his dressings. As I was lifting him to wrap the bandage, I felt a knot on his back where one shouldn’t be.

  My first thought was that he had some kind of growth starting or even a tumor, heaven forbid. Rolling him over on his side, I gave that lump a bit more study. It was hard and small. I didn’t know much about tumors or growths, having only heard talk. It didn’t look anything like a boil or carbuncle. They’re usually red and festered. This was just pressing against the skin like… like… well like a bullet

  Working by torchlight later in the evening, I slowly and steadily worked that bullet out with a sharpened and flame heated Bowie knife. A Bowie is a mighty big blade and, they can be mighty sharp if treated right…. It was shavin’ sharp. So needless to say, I was almighty careful working on that old man. I sure would have hated to tell Patty Anne that her grandpa survived the gunshot but not my doctoring.

  I got the wound cleaned up with the help of that Sam’s dwindling supply of “Night Chill” whiskey. I was able to manage getting it done without too much blood loss, or maybe he didn’t have much left to lose. I figure that hunk of lead may have hit a bone and slowed it up enough to keep it from coming all the way through.

  The following morning, took a good look at our little oasis, and did some scouting around. It was all of an acre to an acre and a half in size, with plenty of timber. I found where some energetic soul had used an ax to cut up a couple of deadfalls and left some pieces that could be toted or dragged back to the fire. They were covered with snow and ice but that was all on the outside and would melt away quickly. When I had an ample supply of big chunks, I went about making sure Smoke had plenty of grass and browse. I’d have to move him often, but he’d be all right for a few days.

  I figured to stay here for two days to give Sam a little time to recover, but if he hadn’t recovered enough by then, I’d have to get him into town pronto for some better nursing. We’d just have to wait and see. I’d heard that infections weren’t nearly as bad in the high up mountains where it’s cold. I didn’t know if that was because of the cold or because of the clean air or both. I said a little prayer that it was because of the cold.

  Every time Sam would open his eyes I’d pour some broth in him and give him a little meat. I just kept some meat on the fire. It was like a frying pan stew without the vegetables, but it was strong on buffalo meat. The snow and ice began to melt quickly during our first full day there. The sky was clear and the sun was out. It was typical for this time of year… it doesn’t stay real cold for long.

  Sam was staying awake longer and longer each time he woke, so I figured that was a good sign. He was still a long way from being out of danger, but he should be well enough to set on that travois for the rest of the trip into Nolo.

  On the morning of the third day in the water hole camp, I hitched up the travois and loaded our goods and gear on it along with Sam. I had him bundled up nice and warm but, I didn’t have to tie him down. He was able to keep his seat without a rope, so he just leaned back against the supplies and hooked his heels on a cross piece.

  About mid day, we come across a trail leading toward where we hoped the town was. It was more than just a trail; it was almost a road with ruts from wagon wheels showing up pretty regularly. We just followed that trail like it was put there for our convenience.

  A couple of mile along that trail, I spotted a figure on horseback coming my way. He stopped when he saw me, and seemed to come along with caution. When he got a little closer, I could see the barrel of his rifle across his lap. I would have done the same thing. In fact I had my rifle in my hand. As we came together, it became obvious that he was a bit more cautious than you would normally expect.

  I raised my hand with palm out and kept on walking, while he sat waiting for me. When I got close enough to be heard I called out, “Howdy… I’m Ben Blue… from Taos, New Mexico. I got a hurt man here.” All the time, I kept moving forward. “Is there a doctor in this town?”

  He nudged his horse and came trotting on towards me. “Shore is.” He said. “Doc Heinz…an’ he’s a purddy gooden too.”

  Making sure that we were going the right way and asking about the distance, I was ready to push on but the puncher said, “Mister Blue, I didn’t know what to make of you coming down the road wearin’ that serape and pullin’ that Injun rig. I thought the whole Comanche Nation might be hidin’ in that gully over there…. I shore am proud to meet ya Blue, and shore am happy you ain’t no Comanche.”

  We parted and since we were only a few miles from Nolo, I climbed into the saddle. Smoke may not like the extra load, but it’s better than getting shot at or shot.

  The town was in a slight valley, so that you would look down upon it from almost any direction you came from. Topping out that little ridge, I looked down and thought that we must not be in Nolo because it was a site bigger than what Able had told us to expect. There looked to be at least forty buildings of one type or other. The main street was busy with people coming and going in all directions.

  I just rode right through to where that cowboy had told me Doctor Heinz’s office should be. We got some pretty funny looks from folks in the street and along the boardwalk. I just paid them no mind and kept riding. I had more important things to attend to than their idle curiosity.

  When we reached the doctor’s office, I just opened the door and called out, “Doc! I got a wounded man here, and I’m bringing him in.” Then I went back and lifted Sam off the travois. Sam was fussing with me to put him down, but I paid him no mind and carried him right through the door just as a pert young woman came through another door, which I assumed went to the other parts of the house.

  She held the door open for me and I went through it to a hall. “The first door on the right” she said, and I pushed my way through that one too. “Lay him on the table, and Doctor Heinz will be right in.”

  I no sooner had him down than that woman was opening his shirt and cutting away the bandages. “What’s this stuff?” she asked.

  “Tree sap.” I told her, feeling like a school boy who couldn’t spell CAT and had to endure the teacher’s scowl.

  “Hmmh!” was all she said. Then after a long few seconds she said, “Probably saved his life.”

  A young man came through the door drying his hands and said, “Thanks, Sis, what have we got here?” She went on to tell him what she knew. Then he asked, “Is the bullet still in there?”

  She stopped and turned to me, and the doctor followed her look. I think it was the first time he saw me. “No.” I said. “I got it out a couple of nights ago. It was pressing against the skin and I cut it out.”

  Then Sis shooed me out to the office, where I had to give her a lot of information about Sam and how long ago it happened and other circumstances like the fact that it was damned cold. She said her brother was a stickler for medical records. He believed that the lack of information and statistics were holding medicine back.

  I asked her about hotels, eating places,
and if there was any law in town. She told me about the hotel and a boarding house. There was one café and too many saloons. Then she gave me directions to the town marshal’s office and jail. She went in to see if the doctor wanted me to wait or come back later.

  “The doctor asked if you would wait a few minutes.” She said.

  We sat and made small talk while we waited. It seemed that the town was no longer called Nolo; it was now named Chamberton, after its number one citizen, Tobias Chambers. She went on to tell me, “Mr. Chambers bought out the old Nolo trading post and built a town, where nothing but prairie had been before. He advertised back east and people came buying lots and building a town. We now have a fine doctor, a lawyer, and a newspaper. He brought in cattlemen and sold them ranches, and provided open range.”

  I noticed that every time she mentioned Mr. Chambers name her eyes would light up. He must be some tall walking figure of a man with pockets full of gold.

  “How’d this Chambers come up with all this land that he could sell it off in ranch sized parcels?”

  “Oh,” she said, “it all came from an old Spanish land grant, he inherited…. Oh he’s very wealthy. He just dabbles in land and cattle more or less as a hobby.”

  “Fortunate.” Was all I said. This young lady was obviously smitten by Tobias Chambers or at least had a good deal of admiration for him. I was saved from another proclamation of Chambers’ qualities by the appearance of the doctor.

  Mr. Blue I think your… Father? Uh..”

  I interrupted with, “My wife’s grandfather.” Sis raised her eyes with what I took for a scowl. I wasn’t sure what that was all about.

  “Ah yes,” the doctor went on, “your wife’s grandfather is a very weak man, but there’s no sign of infection or fever. The wounds are clean and healing. Although the one on his back is a bit ragged.”

  I could feel myself fretting over that comment. I sure didn’t want to leave an ugly scar. “Well, Doc, I was using a Bowie knife to get that bullet out, and they ain’t geared for delicate.”

  “Oh, not to worry, Mr. Blue. You did what was needed doing at the time with what you had. It probably prevented a lot of infection and fever.”

  “I’d like to keep Mr. Stellers here for a day or two to keep an eye on him and try to get some fluids into him. I wouldn’t advise traveling for at least two weeks” The doctor said. And then he let me go in to see Sam. I stayed for about a half an hour and then went to get a room, and take care of my horse.

  I rode up the street to the boarding house that the doctor’s sister…Abigail… Abigail Heinz had told me about and was able to secure a room. They had their own stable so I didn’t need to go looking for a livery stable.

  After stowing our gear in the room, I sat down and wrote Patty Anne a letter to let her know of Sam’s trouble… I tried to ease into it, but I was about as subtle as a bull charging out of a gate.

  Dear Patty Anne,

  Sam’s been hurt. Well actually he got shot, but not by that first bunch that tried to bushwhack us. It was that second bunch that shot him. It was my fault because I was gathering firewood and not watching him. I ran back and 5 of them had come through, shot your grandpa, stole 2 horses and run off.

  I patched him up and got us caught in a blizzard but we got to a doctor who says Sam will be just fine. But he’ll be lade up for 2 weeks. So we’ll be longer than we thought. We’re in the town of Chamberton, Texas.

  Your loving husband

  Ben Blue

  I walked that letter down to the post office in the general store and mailed it. The lady said it would go out on the next stage west. My next stop was the town marshal’s office at the jail. It was easy enough to find, since the town only had four streets and three of them crossed the main one, and that’s where the office was.

  Going through the door, I looked around and saw that there wasn’t anyone working, but there was a prisoner laying on a cot in one of the two cells. I went back to the cell and called out, “Hey there, can you tell me where I might find the marshal or a deputy?”

  The man on the cot, roused out of his nap, sat up, rubbed his eyes and said, “There ain’t no deputy, and I’m the marshal…. What can I do for you?” He stood up still half asleep and opened the cell door. He was a youngish man, probably under thirty, shorter than me but above average. He wore his badge with arrogance. It was like he would always be right as long as he wore that badge. I wasn’t too overly impressed with him, but he was the law and I needed his help.

  “Marshal,” I said, “my name’s Ben Blue out of Taos, and my friend and I were bushwhacked twice coming in to your town. I doubt that you’d be able to find them since I barely saw them close enough to recognize them, but they stole two of our horses and a saddle and shot my friend Sam Stellars. He’s over at the doc’s right now.”

  The marshal was interested until I told him where it happened. Then he said, “Sorry, Blue, but that’s out of my jurisdiction. I only go to the town limit. This here is an unorganized area of mostly sage brush and lots a space. There probably ain’t a sheriff within fifty miles.”

  “Who handles the law out there?” I asked.

  “Wellsir, you could write to the US Marshal in Amarillo, or the Texas Rangers, and I don’t even know where they are.”

  “So out there on the plains, it’s every man for himself? I asked.

  “That’s about the way it works.” He said with a yawn.

  “In other words, if I find those horses or those men; I’m to just take care of them myself? He nodded his acknowledgment, and I left.

  I was stomping up the boardwalk like a locomotive with a full head of steam. I was going back to the boarding house to cool off before I blew a gasket. Walking past one of the saloons, I was so mad that I wasn’t noticing anybody or anything until I heard a horse snort at the hitch rail.

  Looking to my left, I found myself looking right in the eyes of that sturdy little gelding we used as a pack horse, and standing right next to her was that long legged bay of Sam’s. “Well, just look at you,” I said to the to the pack horse. “You got yourself a brand new saddle and some saddlebags. And looky here, you got a new Winchester 73.” All of which, I stripped off and threw into a nearby water trough.

  I untied those horses, and started to lead them up to the boarding house, when two men came bustin’ out of those batwing doors leaving them flappin’.

  “What the hell you think you a doin there!” One of them yelled. He had his hand on his sixgun and was ready to yank that thing out. I turned to the hitch rail and retied the reins. They were a scruffy looking pair. Both were wearing clothes that were long overdue for a visit to the wash board. The one who had yelled was wearing a black beat up hat and a gawd awful gaudy kerchief. They were both of average size and seemed fit. And they were more ready to get themselves a horse thief.

  Then I stepped up on the boardwalk facing them. Others were coming out of the saloon behind them. In a mild almost meek voice I asked, “Are you the gents that left these horses tied here?” and as I was talking, I just kept walking toward them.

  “Yeah,” gaudy kerchief said, “them’s our hosses, and what the hell’s it any of your business?” He was so intent on giving me an earful that he wasn’t even aware that I had already pulled and cocked that sawed off shotgun, but those boys behind those two sure noticed and were scattering.

  “Mister, you’re not only ugly and stupid, you’re a bold face liar!.... You stole those horses from us, and shot a fine old man a doin’ it.” By that time I wasn’t more than eight feet from them and closing.

  They started back stepping. It seems that they noticed the shotgun. “Now, see here, we found those horses out on the plains…. We never did steal no horses, ever.”

  “Now, I’d be likely to believe that was possible, if you hadn’t already lied to me sayin’ they was your horses…. One thing I can’t abide is a lyin’ horse thief, especially when they’re ugly and stupid.”

  I’d backed them up to the edge
of the boardwalk, which had three steps down to the cross street. I just raised that cannon and steadied it with my left hand… They both took a terrified step backward into mid air, and landed flat on their back. Uncocking that gun and jamming it into the holster, I jumped right in the middle of them.

  Now, I’m a big boned boy, over six foot two, and weighing a slight bit over a hundred and eighty five pounds. I don’t know a lot about the fineries of fighting but I know how to hit a man so that he stays hit for a while. I whooped ‘em good, and I whooped ‘em hard, and when they’d give up, I whaled on ‘em some more. When I figured they didn’t have any fight left in ‘em, I drug ‘em over to that water trough and dumped them in with that saddle and rifle.

  I had pounded those boys, kicked them, stomped on ‘em, and I used one of ‘em as a battering ram tryin’ to bust through the side wall of that saloon. I figure there was more than one broken bone between them… They were just lucky that old man didn’t die.

  The fight fans started coming out of the saloon then, and I addressed them. “I don’t much care if those boys drown or not, but if they’re friends of yours, you might want to pull ‘em out of there… If they ask, you tell ‘em they need to be careful who they shoot and whose horses they steal…. You tell ‘em they just been whooped by Ben Blue from Missouri, by way of Arkansas, the Nations, Texas, Kansas, and New Mexico. I’m gonna be here for a couple of weeks… if they want a rematch.”

  With that, I untied our horses and walked them up to the boarding house, where I stabled them. When I was taking the saddle off Sam’s horse, I realized that Sam’s rifle was up in my room with the rest of our gear. Looked like Sam just got himself a brand new Winchester.

  I took the new rifle and Sam’s saddle bags up to the room, and then I went over to the Doctor’s office to let Sam know that I got his horse back. He was awake when I got there and he already looked a lot better.

  He sure was happy about getting his horse and gear back, and he was even happier when I told him how badly those boys had been used. He described the one who shot him, and asked if he was one of them. “I don’t know, Sam. I forget what they looked like when they came out of the saloon, and when they went into the horse trough, they didn’t look much like anything.”