The horses bunched and sorted and rolled their eyes and the vaquero riding drag looked at Boyd sitting his horse with the horses among the trees and he raised one hand and made a small tossing motion with his jaw. Adios, caballero, he said. Then he fell in behind the remuda and they all passed on up the road into the mountains.
IN THE EVENING they watered the horses at an abrevadero masoned up out of hewn limestone. The vanes of the mill turned slowly above them and the long and skewed shadow of the vanes lay turning out on the high prairie in a slow dark carousel. They'd saddled Nino to ride and Billy dismounted and loosed the cinch to let him blow and Boyd slid down from the Bailey horse he'd been riding and they drank from the pipe and then squatted and watched the horses drink.
You like to watch horses drink, Billy said. Yeah.
He nodded. I do too.
What would you say that paper's worth? On this spread I'd say it's worth gold.
And not much off of it. No. Not much off of it. Boyd pulled a grass stem and put it in his teeth. Why do you reckon he let us have the horses?
Cause he knowed they was ours.
How did he know it?
He just knew it.
He could of kept em anyways. Yeah. He could of.
Boyd spat and put the grass stem back in his teeth. He watched the horses. That was more blind luck, he said. Us runnin up on the horses.
I know it.
How much more luck you reckon we got comin? You mean like findin the other two horses?
Yeah. That. Or anything.
I dont know.
I dont either.
You think the girl will be there like she said?
Yeah. She'll be there.
Yeah, Billy said. I guess she will be.
Doves coming in across the drylands to the south veered and flared away from the tank when they saw them sitting there. The water from the pipe ran with a cold metallic sound. The western sun descending under the banked clouds had sucked away the golden light and left the land all blue and cool and silent.
You think they've got the other horses, dont you? Boyd said. Who.
You know who. Them riders that come out of Boquilla.
I dont know.
But that's what you think.
Yeah. That's what I think.
He took the paper Quijada had given him from the sweatband of his hat and unfolded it and read it and refolded it and put it back in his hat and put his hat on. You dont like it, do you? he said.
Who would like it?
I dont know. Hell.
What do you think the old man would of done?
You know what he'd of done.
Boyd took the stem from his teeth and threaded it through the buttonhole on the pocket of his ragged shirt and looped and tied it.
Yeah. He aint here to say though, is he?
I dont know. Someways I think he'll always have a say.
NOON THE FOLLOWING DAY they rode into Boquilla y Anexas looseherding the horses before them. Boyd stayed with the horses while Billy went into the tienda and bought forty feet of half inch grass rope to make hackamores out of. The woman at the counter was measuring cloth off of a bolt. She held the cloth to her chin and measured down the length of her arm and she cut the cloth with a straightedge and a knife and folded it and pushed it across the counter to a young girl. The young girl doled out coppers and ancient tlacos and pesos and crumpled bills and the woman counted the sum and thanked her and the girl left with the cloth folded under her arm. When she'd left the woman went to the window and watched her. She said that the cloth was for the girl's father. Billy said it would make a pretty shirt but the woman said that it was not to make a shirt but to line his coffinbox with. Billy looked out the window. The woman said that the girl's family was not rich. That she had learned these extravagances working for the wife of the hacendado and had spent the money she was saving for her boda. The girl was crossing the dusty street with the cloth under her arm. At the corner were three men and they looked away when she approached and two of them looked after her when she passed.
THEY SAT in the shade of a whitewashed mud wall and ate tacos off of greasy brown papers that they'd bought from a streetvendor. The dog watched. Billy balled the empty paper and wiped his hands on his jeans and got his knife out and measured a length of rope between his outstretched arms.
Are we goin to set here? said Boyd.
Yeah. Why? You got a appointment somewheres?
Why dont we go over yonder and set in the alameda? All right.
How come do you reckon they never branded the horses?
I dont know. They probably been traded all over the country. Maybe we ought to brand em.
What the hell you goin to brand em with?
I dont know.
Billy cut the rope and laid the knife by and looped the bosal. Boyd put the last corner of the taco in his mouth and sat chewing.
What do you reckon is in these tacos? he said.
Cats.
Cats?
Sure. You see how the dog was lookin at you?
They aint done it, said Boyd.
You see any cats in the street?
It's too hot for cats in the street.
You see any in the shade?
There could be some laid up in the shade somewheres.
How many cats have you seen anywheres?
You wouldnt eat a cat, Boyd said. Even to get to watch me eat one.
I might.
No you wouldnt.
I would if I was hungry enough.
You aint that hungry.
I was pretty hungry. Wasnt you?
Yeah. I aint now. We aint eat no cats have we?
No.
Would you know it if we had?
Yeah. You would too. I thought you wanted to go over in the alameda.
I'm waitin on you.
Lizards now, Billy said. You caint tell them from chicken hardly.
Shit, said Boyd.
They hazed the horses across the street and under the shade of the painted trees and Billy tied hackamores with trailing rope ends for the horses to walk on if they took a mind to quit them and Boyd lay in the parched and ratty grass with the dog for a pillow and his hat over his eyes and slept. The street was empty all through the afternoon. Billy put the hackamores on the horses and tied them and walked over and stretched out in the grass and after a while he was asleep too.
Toward evening a solitary rider on a horse somewhat above his station stopped in the street opposite the alameda and looked them over where they slept and looked their horses over. He leaned and spat. Then he turned and rode back the way he'd come.
When Billy woke he raised up and looked at Boyd. Boyd had turned on his side and had his arm around the dog. He reached and picked his brother's hat up out of the dust. The dog opened one eye and looked at him. Coming up the street were five riders.
Boyd, he said.
Boyd sat up and felt for his hat.
Yonder they come, said Billy. He rose and stepped into the street and cinched up the latigo on Bird and undid the reins and stepped up into the saddle. Boyd pulled on his hat and walked out to where the horses were standing. He untied Nino and walked him past one of the little ironslatted benches and stood onto the bench and forked one leg over the animal's bare back all in one motion without even stopping the horse and turned and rode past the trees and out to the street. The riders came on. Billy looked at Boyd. Boyd was sitting his horse leaning slightly forward with his hands palm down on the horse's withers. He leaned and spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.
They approached slowly. They didnt even look at the horses standing under the trees. Save for the oneaEU'armed rider they were all of them young men and they did not appear to be carrying guns.
Yonder's our buddy, said Billy.
The jefe.
I dont believe he's all that much of a jefe.
Why is that?
He wouldnt be here. He'd of sent somebody. You recognize any of them
others?
No. Why?
I just wondered how big of a outfit it is that we're dealin with here.
The same man in the same tooled boots and the same flat hat turned hishorse slightly sideways before them as if he might be going to ride past. Then he turned the horse back. Then he halted the horse in front of them and nodded. Bueno, he said.
Quiero mis papeles, Billy said.
The young men behind looked at each other. The manco studied the two boys. He asked them if they might perhaps be crazy. Billy didnt answer. He took the paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He said that he had a factura for the horses.
Factura de donde? said the manco.
De la Babicora.
The man turned his head and spat into the dust of the street without taking his eyes off Billy. La Babicora, he said.
Si.
Firmado por quien?
Firmado por el senor Quijada.
He sat without expression. Quijada no es alguacil, he said.
Es gerente, said Billy.
The manco shrugged. He dropped the loop of the reins over the saddlehorn and held out his one hand. Permitame, he said.
Billy folded the paper and put it in his shirtpocket. He said that they had come for the other two horses. The man shrugged again. He said that he could not help them. He said that he could not help the young Americans.
We dont need your help, Billy said.
Como?
But Billy had already reined his horse to the right and put the horse forward into the middle of the street. Stay there, Boyd, he said. The jefe turned to the rider on his right. He told him to take the horses in charge. Te los encargo, he said.
No toque esos caballos, said Billy.
Como? said the jefe. Como?
Boyd rode out from under the trees.
Stay there, said Billy. Do like I said.
Two of the riders had advanced upon the tied horses. The third moved to head Boyd's horse but Boyd booted past him and put his horse out into the street.
Stay back, said Billy.
The rider reined his horse about. He looked at the jefe. Nino had begun to roll his eyes and to stamp in the street. The manco had taken the reins of his horse in his teeth and he had reached across and was in the act of unbuttoning the flap on the holster of his sidearm. Nino's rolling eye must have communicated some unwelcome intelligence to the other horses in the street for the jefe's horse also had begun to skitter and to jerk its head. Billy snatched off his hat and booted his horse forward and hazed his hat in front of the eyes of the jefe's horse and the jefe's horse stood bolt upright and squatted and took two steps backward. The jefe grabbed the great flat pommel of his saddle and when he did so the horse stepped again and made a quarter turn and fell backwards in the street. Billy sawed his horse about and the horse stepped in the jefe's hat and turned and sent it skittering. In turning Billy saw Nino stand and saw Boyd standing with his bootheels in the horse's flanks. The jefe's horse was on its knees scrabbling and it struggled and lunged up and set off down the street with the looped reins hanging and the stirrups flapping. The jefe lay in the road. His eyes moved from side to side taking in the rancorous movements of the horses all about him. He looked at his hat crushed in the road.
The pistol lay in the dirt. Of the riders in the jefe's party two were trying to snub down the horses under the trees where they lunged and jerked at their hackamore leads and one had dismounted and was coming to the assistance of the fallen man. The fourth rider turned and looked at the pistol. Boyd slid from his horse and swung the reins down over the horse's head all in one movement and kicked the pistol out into the middle of the street. Nino tried to rear again and snatched him half off the ground but he pulled the horse down and stepped in front of the mounted rider and cut him off where he had already turned and he ran two fingers up the nostrils of the man's horse which set it to backing and fighting its head. Then he trotted Nino out into the street behind him and bent and picked up the pistol and jammed it into his belt and grabbed a handful of mane and swung himself up and pulled the horse around.
Billy was standing in the street. One of the other vaqueros had also dismounted and now two of them were kneeling in the dust trying to get the jefe to sit up. But the jefe couldnt sit. They raised him up but he sloughed bonelessly to one side and fell over into their arms. They must have thought him only addled because they kept talking to him and patting his cheeks. Out in the street a collection of onlookers had begun to assemble. The other two riders stepped down and dropped their reins and came running.
There aint no use in that, Billy said.
One of the vaqueros turned and looked at him. Como? he said.
Es inutil, said Billy. Se quebro el espinazo.
Mande?
His back's broke.
THEY LEFT THE ROAD a mile north of the town and traveled west till they came to the river. Boyd had hazed the other horses off while the riders were kneeling in the street and they now had all the horses with them. It was almost dark. They sat on a gravel bar and watched the horses standing in the water against the cooling sky. The dog walked into the water and drank and raised its head and looked back at them.
You got any ideas now? Boyd said.
No. I aint.
They sat looking at the horses, nine in number.
They probably got some old boy can track a lizard across a rockslide.
Probably.
What are we goin to do with their horses?
I dont know.
Boyd spat.
Maybe if they get their own horses back they'll leave us be. Bullshit.
They aint goin to wait till in the mornin.
I know it.
You know what they'll do to us?
I got a pretty good notion.
Boyd threw a stone into the water. The dog turned and looked at the place where it had gone.
We caint looseherd these horses across this country in the dark, he said.
I dont intend to.
Well why dont you tell us what you do intend.
Billy rose and stood looking at the drinking horses. I think we ought to cut out their horses and drive em out to that rise yonder and chouse em back towards Boquilla. They'll get there sooner or later.
All right.
Let me have the pistol.
What do you aim to do with it?
Put it in the man's mochila it belongs to.
You think he's dead?
If he aint he will be.
Then what difference does it make?
Billy looked at the horses in the river. He looked down at Boyd. Well, he said, if it dont make no difference then just let me have it.
Boyd pulled the pistol out of his belt and handed it up. Billy stuck it in his own belt and waded out into the river and mounted Bird and cut the five Boquilla horses out and hazed them up from the river.
Dont let our horses foller, he said.
They aint goin to foller.
Dont entertain no company while I'm gone.
Go on.
Dont build no fires nor nothin. Go on. I aint a idjit.
He rode out and disappeared over the rise. The sun was down and the long cool evening of the high country had set in. The other three horses came up out of the river one by one and began to graze in the good grass along the bank. It was dark by the time Billy got back. He rode directly in off the plain to their camp.
Boyd stood. You must of give him his head, he said. I did. Are you ready.
Just waitin on you.
Well let's go.
They sorted out the horses and drove them across the river and set out upcountry. The plains about them blue and devoid of life. The thin horned moon lay on its back in the west like a grail and the bright shape of Venus hung directly above it like a star falling into a boat. They kept to the open country clear of the river and they rode all night and toward the morning they made a dry camp in a quemada of burned trees clustered dead and black and ragged on a slight rise a mile west of t
he river. They dismounted and looked for some sign of water but there was none.
There's got to of been water here at one time, Billy said. Maybe the fire dried it up.
A spring or a seep. Somethin.
There aint no grass. There aint nothin. It's a old burn. Years old: What do you want to do? Let's just tough it out. It'll be daylight directly. All right.
Get your soogan. I'll watch for a while. I wish I had a soogan.
Outlaws travel light.
They staked the horses and Billy sat with the shotgun in the dark ruin of trees about. The moon long down. No wind.
What was he goin to do with Nino's papers and no horse? Boyd said.
I dont know. Find a horse to fit them. Go to sleep.
Papers aint worth a damn noways.
I know it.
I'm a hungry son of a bitch.
When did you take to cussin so much?
When I quit eatin.
Drink some water.
I did.
Go to sleep.
It was already growing light in the east. Billy stood and listened.
What do you hear? said Boyd.
Nothin.
This is a spooky kind of place.
I know it. Go to sleep.
He sat and cradled the shotgun in his lap. He could hear the horses cropping grass out on the prairie.
You asleep? he said.
No.
I got the papers back.
Nino's papers?
Yeah.
Bullshit.
No, I did.
Where'd you get em from.
They were in the mochila. When I went to put his pistol back they were in the mochila.
I'll be damned.
He sat holding the shotgun and listening to the horses and to the silence of the world beyond. After a while Boyd said: Did you put the pistol back?
No. How come?
I just didnt.
Have you got it?
Yeah. Go to sleep.
When it was light he rose and walked out to see what sort of country it was that they were in. The dog rose and followed. He walked out to the top of the rise and squatted and leaned on the shotgun. A mile away on the plain a band of palecolored rangecattle were grazing toward the north. Otherwise nothing. When he got back to the trees he stood looking down at his sleeping brother.
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