by Peter Grant
“Briefly.” Walt described what had happened, and handed over a letter from Don Thomas confirming the details.
The Comandante read it quickly, and nodded. “I see no reason to burden the Guardia with a pointless investigation. Thank you for assisting Don Thomas, señor. He is a good man.”
“Yes, he is. Do you think the bandidos will try to hit him again?”
“They will be very foolish if they do. I helped Señor Reese choose the men he took there. They know how to use their guns, and are not afraid to do so.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
That evening, Walt and Tyler sat down together to discuss the next few weeks. “It’s gonna be a real frenzy,” Walt warned. “We’ll have to split up. Pablo’s people organized a horse fair at the arena in Saltillo, and they reckon hundreds of sellers will be there. There’s another fair in Monterrey, just outside the town, and there should be even more coming to that one. Will you take Monterrey, and I’ll take Saltillo?”
“Sure. What about money?”
Walt grinned. “I found what Major d’Assaily had buried.” He didn’t mention the total amount. “I’ll give you seven thousand dollars to buy horses, and you’ve got your three thousand. I’ll add another two thousand for travel costs, to hire more men, and as a reserve. If the buyers want payment all in gold, with no greenbacks, then they’ve got to accept a lower price. I reckon you may be able to buy as many as a thousand all told, perhaps a few more. Vicente’s mesteñeros are good judges of horseflesh, and you’ve got the Army’s list of what it wants, so choose those you buy very carefully.”
“Count on it. What about taking them north?”
“I was watching the grazing as we came south. It’s not real good out in the flatlands, although it’s better nearer the mountains. We’d better not drive too many horses over the same route. There won’t be enough for them to eat. I think you’d better split your herd in two, sending off four or five hundred head as soon as you’ve bought and branded ’em, then following with the rest when you’re done. Head for Laredo, cross the border there, and then go up to the east of the Rio Grande. The grass should be better on that side of the river. Send your Navajo scouts out ahead of the herds, to pick good grazing for each day’s journey and the next night’s stop. For my part, I’ll also split my horses into two smaller herds, and send them to Piedras Negras via Monclova. I’ll take the second herd past Don Thomas’ estancia to collect him and his hands. We’ll meet up at Fort Clark, to tally up the numbers and sort out the money.”
“Sounds more’n fair to me.” Tyler’s eyes twinkled. “Are you gettin’ sweet on that pretty girl at the estancia?”
“I guess I am. Does it show?”
“Only a lil bit, what with you trippin’ over your own feet and droolin’ whenever she appears!” Walt mock-swung a fist at him, and Tyler ducked, grinning. “Hey, you asked!”
“I guess I did. Yeah, I’m gettin’ awful fond o’ that young lady. I’ve got hopes.”
“I’ll be rootin’ for you, buddy. She looks to be worth it.”
“What about you? You ain’t married yet.”
“Naw. I ain’t found someone fool enough to put up with me yet!”
As he settled into his bedroll that night, Walt did some quick mental arithmetic. He’d recovered thirty-five thousand dollars in gold from where Major d’Assaily had buried it, to add to the ten thousand dollars he’d brought across the border. He’d spent almost ten thousand of it to buy the horse herd from Don Thomas’ estancia, and committed another two thousand to buy wagons and mule teams. That was an investment, of course; he’d transfer them to Ames Transport in Pueblo when they got there. He expected to spend a thousand or more on hiring hands over the rest of their time in Mexico, including the gunmen now guarding the estancia, those escorting the wagons, and the men he’d hire to get the horse herds from here to Fort Clark. Call it thirteen thousand dollars all told, plus another nine thousand to Tyler to buy horses and for expenses – twenty-two thousand in total.
That left him with twenty-three thousand dollars in hand. Even if he spent half of it to buy horses, he’d have done very, very well out of this trip – and there were still all the Army payments to come.
He mentally raised his hat to God. I asked you to help me find what the Major buried, and you sure came through for me. I’m thankin’ you. Now, if you don’t mind me askin’ another favor, would you please put the right thoughts in Colleen O’Halloran’s head? I’ve grown awful fond o’ her. It’d be nice to bring a wife back from Mexico, as well as horses. Who knows? She might even teach me to talk to you more often.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face, dreaming of her lips on his.
The arena at Saltillo was large, with rows of seats on all four sides. It was normally used for bullfights and other entertainments. Pablo’s men had arranged to hire the entire place for two weeks, arena, stables, barns and all.
Walt was grateful for their forethought. “It’s perfect!” he enthused to his men. “We can set up a circuit in here. As each hoss is brought in, it can be looked over by those who know what we want. If they turn it down, it can be taken out right away. If it passes, it comes to me, to look it over and offer a price. If the seller has more than one horse, we’ll collect them in a group, and deal with him after they’ve all come through. When we’ve bought ’em, they’ll be taken out back to where some of you will have brandin’ irons hot. There’s even a branding pen at the side of that corral, so we don’t have to build our own. I reckon we can deal with several hundred horses each day, if we do this right.”
He sent out the two members of Pablo’s advance party who’d accompanied him, to look for more local hands; vaqueros, grooms, whoever had experience with horses and could prove themselves trustworthy in handling them gently and carefully. It took two days of interviews and practical tests to hire two dozen men. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars in gold every month,” he offered, “with a bonus of another twenty when we get to Fort Clark. You can expect to work for up to two months. That’ll get you up to sixty gold dollars.” They all accepted with alacrity, eyes gleaming at the prospect of wages double what they could expect to earn locally.
“We may have some trouble with bandidos or Indians as we drive the horses north,” he warned them. “Bring your guns, and be ready to use them if you have to. That’s part of your job.” They didn’t turn a hair at the prospect.
Walt appointed Vicente, who’d accompanied him all the way from El Paso, as his segundo, or second-in-command. “You’ll help me here during the hoss buyin’, then take the first half of the herd north,” he told him. “I trust you to get them to Fort Clark in good condition. Remember, don’t push them too hard, or they won’t be at their peak when they get there. When you arrive, have the Army sign acceptance papers for them, and ask Colonel Mackenzie to hold the payment draft for me. I’ll collect it when I bring the rest of the horses.”
“Si, señor. It shall be done as you wish.”
The first day began with a mad crush of horses and their owners, all of whom wanted to be first in line. Walt was forced to go outside several times, and bellow at them through a cone-shaped speaking trumpet. “We’re here for a week, and longer if need be,” he told them at the top of his lungs. “You don’t have to worry. We won’t run out of money. Take your time and wait your turn!” It didn’t help much.
Ranchers, farmers and owners had brought their horses from a wide area around Saltillo; from Torreón, a hundred and fifty miles to the west, to San Tiburcio, a hundred and ten miles to the south, to Entronque San Roberto, eighty miles to the south-south-east, to Monclova, a hundred and twenty miles to the north. In that vast area, more than thirty thousand square miles in extent, tens of thousands of horses were to be found, and many of their owners urgently desired good Yankee dollars in exchange for them. That meant the crush of sellers was inevitable, Walt supposed, sighing to himself.
It soon became apparent that many of the sellers had not listened t
o the description of what Walt was looking for in a horse. More than half of those offered had one or more defects that would prevent their being accepted by the U.S. Army. Walt turned them away, refusing to be swayed by anguished pleas from their owners. He and the others rapidly became expert in how desperate owners could disguise defects or problems in their animals, from using dye or boot polish to conceal scrapes and scars, to putting thicker horseshoes, or regular horseshoes with wooden backing, on their hooves to make them look taller. Some sellers even tried to bring back the same animals on successive days, in the hope that they might find a different person inspecting them, and be able to fool him. It didn’t work.
Walt also found that some shady characters took to hanging around outside the barn that he’d reserved for himself and his men. They were sleeping in the hayloft, while their saddles and pack saddles were stored below. He took the precaution of leaving at least three men on guard in and around the barn at all times, heavily and very visibly armed. He also visited the local Comandante of the Guardia Rural, handed him a letter of introduction he’d got from the Comandante in Monclova, and explained what he was doing in Saltillo. As a result, the Comandante obligingly – for a small fee, payable in advance in gold – kept a detachment of his men on patrol at the fairgrounds, day and night. They proved a useful deterrent. Coupled with Walt’s own armed guards, they kept the shady characters from trying too hard to get into the barn, or steal horses.
Despite all the problems, the horse buying process went forward. Walt found they could process up to a hundred acceptable horses a day, and turn away up to two hundred that didn’t measure up to their requirements. Most sellers proved willing to accept a lower price in return for payment in gold, rather than paper currency. The branding crews worked late into the evening, cancelling existing brands on the horses and applying Walt’s Rafter A brand instead. There were fewer really good horses than he’d expected. Only about one in thirty met his higher personal standards, and had its brand underlined to designate it as part of his future breeding stock. Even so, they weren’t as good as Don Thomas’ horses; but then, few of that quality were to be found anywhere.
By the end of five days, they had four hundred and seventy horses penned in the arena’s corrals, eating a fortune every day in oats and hay. Walt said to Vicente that evening, “I think it’s time you headed out. You’ve bought all the supplies you’ll need?”
“Si, señor, and loaded them onto pack saddles. We’ll put them on different horses every day, and switch riding horses the same way, to keep them all fresh and strong.”
“All right. Tomorrow morning at dawn, you ride. You’ll have fifteen men in all, which should be more than enough to handle the herd and deal with any bandidos or Indians who want to take them.”
He and the others got up early to watch the departure. It was a thrilling spectacle for the locals, who had never before seen so many horses gathered in one place. More than five hundred animals set off from the arena towards the trail to Monclova. The dust from their hooves filled the air, and their neighing and snorting was deafening at close range.
As the last of the horses disappeared down the street, Walt turned to the rest of the men. “That’ll be us, in a week or so’s time. All right, let’s get ready for another day’s work.”
He was interrupted at mid-afternoon the following day by a messenger from Tyler in Monterrey. He’d dispatched the first part of his horse herd, more than five hundred animals, to Laredo. He also reported that the mule wagons had arrived safely at Don Thomas’ estancia. The drivers who’d delivered them had returned safely to Monterrey. “It’s all looking good up there,” he reported. “The bandidos tried to bring in more men to take the place of those you dealt with, but Tom and his boys gave them a warm welcome, then sent the survivors on their way. They haven’t been seen or heard of since.”
Walt couldn’t help but smile. From what he’d seen of Tyler’s segundo and the men he’d brought, he was confident that those bandidos had not been handled gently.
Another messenger the following day brought word from Don Thomas. He confirmed that the entire estancia and all its people would be packed and ready from the evening of March 15 onwards. “We aren’t loading most of our furniture and the like,” he advised. “Much of it is old, and it isn’t worth taking. Thanks to your generosity in buying all our horses, I’ve been able to give each family a hundred dollars in gold. They’ll use that to buy whatever they need when they build their new homes.” Walt nodded. The gesture was what he’d expect from a respected patriarch like Don Thomas. He would look after his people, no matter what.
Don Thomas enclosed a note from Colleen. It had been dabbed with perfume, which Walt sniffed delightedly before opening it. Its scent did not escape the notice of those on either side of him. One mock-sneezed loudly. “Dang, boss, what is that? You taken to wearin’ ladies’ smelly stuff now?” There was a roar of laughter from the others nearby.
“No, my feet always smell that good,” Walt retorted, to more laughter and shouts of pretended outrage. “You’re just jealous.”
Nastas smiled. “If you had seen the lady Señor Walt met at the estancia, you would not wonder,” he told them in Spanish. “Instead, you would long for her to write to you too.”
“Beautiful, is she?”
“Like the sun rising out of the mist over the fields on a spring morning.”
“Dang, that Injun’s turned into a poet,” one ranch hand muttered. “Must be somethin’ in the water down here.”
Nastas heard him. “No,” he corrected, “it is the horses on that estancia. If you think we are buying good horses here, just wait until you see them. They are magnificent – enough to turn any horse breeder into a poet!”
Walt ignored them as he settled down to read. Colleen started almost formally, hoping that he was well, and that the horse buying was producing the quality of animals he was looking for. Then she turned coquettish. “I’ve packed most of my clothes. I’ve also packed the small trousseau my mother helped put together for me before she died, four years ago. Who knows? It may come in handy.”
Walt grinned to himself. The little minx was teasing him, was she? Well, two could play at that game!
“I look forward very much to seeing you soon,” she closed. “The memory of our last walk together is still fresh and enticing. I want to take another with you, as soon as we can.”
He couldn’t help a powerful physical reaction to her words. Oh, lady, you have no idea what you’re doing to me, he thought – or maybe you do. With luck, it won’t be long before we can find out more about that side of each other.
He settled down to sleep, tingling with anticipation at the thought.
The next five days were a whirlwind of activity. Most of the sellers with sub-standard horses had by now accepted that they had no chance, so they took their animals home with them. However, that meant the remaining horses could not be rejected quickly, because they almost all deserved closer scrutiny. That slowed down the daily average. Walt found the most he could handle was up to a hundred and fifty horses per day.
The hands worked from sunup to sundown, feeding the growing herd in the corrals, watering them, and branding the new arrivals. There was no grass for the horses to graze, and there were not enough men to take them out of town to do so. They had to be fed hay and oats from local feed merchants, who were glad of the business, but soon began to run low. They had to send to ranches and farms all over the area to bring in fresh supplies, which caused feed prices to rise sharply. Walt could afford them, but some others found that difficult, and they complained about it.
Other businesses in town didn’t care. They were making a lot of money catering to the needs of Walt and his men, and the many horse sellers who suddenly had money to spend. The horse fair caused a short-lived miniature economic boom in Saltillo, and everyone who could took advantage of it.
By three o’clock in the afternoon of the fifth day, it was over. The last horse was branded and p
ut into a corral to join the rest of the herd. The hands gathered at the barn, sweaty, covered in dust and dirt, tired, but triumphant.
“We’ve bought another five hundred and seventy-seven horses,” Walt told them. “We’ll take tomorrow off, to let you catch up on your sleep, wash your clothes and yourselves, enjoy a drink in the saloons, and prepare for the drive north. Make sure you don’t get drunk or cause any fuss, you hear me? If you get tossed in the hoosegow because you stepped over the line, I’m gonna leave you there!” Laughing and jeering at one another, the men promised to behave.
They trooped down to the nearest bathhouse, which had done a roaring trade every evening of the horse fair, and washed away the dust and dirt. Putting on clean clothing, most of the men headed for the saloons to celebrate. Walt went back to the barn, where he sat down with Angel, one of Vicente Romero’s mesteñeros, to plan the journey north. They made a long list of supplies they’d need for the trip.
“All right,” Walt said at last, stretching wearily. “I’ll give you money in the morning. Buy all this, and have the men load it onto pack saddles. Use some of our herd as pack horses – they’re all supposed to be broken to the saddle – and change them out each day, so we don’t overtire them.”
“I will, señor. Should we do the same with our riding horses?”
“Yes. Let’s keep them all as fresh as we can, which means they only get used once, then swapped for another mount the following morning. Don’t let the men pick favorite horses and keep riding them.”
“No, señor.” Angel sipped his mug of black coffee. “Have we done as well as you expected, do you think?”
