The Green River Trail

by Ralph Compton

  The lightning and thunder ceased, and within an hour, so did the rain.

  “We’ll go ahead with our watches as usual,” said Lonnie. “Those of you on the first watch, keep the herd and the horses bunched. The second watch will relieve you at midnight.”

  When the second watch took over, Lonnie rode alone. His companions respected his need for silence, allowing him time to sort his thoughts. At the start of the drive, he’d had his doubts about April and Laura, only to see them standing beside Mindy, turning the stampeding herd with doubled lariats. Becky was right, he decided. They were much more than an outfit. They were a family.

  Along the Pecos. August 1, 1853.

  After the storm of the night before, Becky had remained in the wagon. Mindy had taken her breakfast to her and was on the way to prepare her own meal when Lonnie spoke to her.

  “After breakfast, Mindy, we’ll harness the teams. There’s not much use in doing anything more until we’re sure the mud’s not enough to bog down the wagon.”

  Mindy nodded. Having already eaten, Lonnie went on to the wagon. He had no idea Becky had heard of his narrow escape the night before. Becky sat on the wagon seat, eating. She paused when she saw him coming, and before he could speak, she did.

  “Dallas told me about last night, Lonnie. I told you we’re a family.”

  “I had all night to think of some of the things you’ve said,” Lonnie replied, “and all I can say is that you’re right. When that horse dumped me last night, I landed on my head and shoulders. There was no way I could have escaped that stampede if Mindy, Laura, and April hadn’t come between those running steers and me. At one time or another, I’ve been some put out with all of them. I have some making up to do, and I’m not sure where to begin.”

  “None of them will expect anything of you,” Becky said, “except that you never take them for granted. No more talk about Indians bringing their horses inside while leaving a woman out in the storm.”

  “After last night,” said Lonnie, “I’ll never have a hard word to say to any of them. I’d appreciate you talking to them. Nothing I can think of to say seems enough.”

  “I’ll talk to them,” Becky said. “They’re all like me. We’re going to a faraway place, and with no family near, we want to turn to one another, or to any of the rest of you. I don’t think I ever thanked you, so I’m thanking you now. You hired Gus, Waco, and the others when I was down and had nowhere to turn. When I was very young, they taught me to ride. They’ve been family for a long, long time.”

  “They’d be a credit to any outfit,” Lonnie said. “I’m proud to have them with us. Not just because they’re excellent hands, but because of their loyalty to you.”

  The teams had been harnessed to the wagon, and Mindy drove it a hundred yards or so upriver. There was some mud, but not enough to bog down the wagon.

  “The wagon can make it,” Lonnie shouted. “Let’s saddle our horses, bunch the herd, and move ’em out. Justin, I want you and Wovoka to ride twenty miles ahead of us and report back as soon as you can.”

  Justin and Wovoka already had their horses saddled, and they rode upstream along the Pecos. The rest of the outfit had saddled and mounted their horses. Lonnie shouted out the command for which they waited.

  “Head ’em up, move ’em out.”

  Mindy kept the wagon a little farther behind the drag than usual, and Becky noticed.

  “You’re getting behind,” said Becky.

  “Some,” Mindy said, “but I’m in a better position to see all the holes and drop-offs. I don’t want to bounce you around too much. I know your leg’s still sore.”

  “It’s not nearly as sore as it was,” said Becky. “Maybe three or four more days, and I can take my turn on the wagon and set my saddle.”

  The outfit maintained the gait of the day before, and again the herd responded.

  “A twenty-mile day,” Lonnie said, elated. “If we can just go on like this, we’ll be on our Green River range before snow flies.”

  But trouble awaited them in the mountains of New Mexico, as well as on their Green River range in northeastern Utah….

  11

  Fort Laramie, Wyoming. August 1, 1853.

  Two of the Mormon leaders—Adolph and Bertram—who had been among the first to help establish the colony near the Great Salt Lake were taken to Captain Stoddard, the post commander. Stoddard did not welcome their coming, because the Mormons had overrun and occupied Jim Bridger’s trading post. Stoddard stood up behind his desk, waiting for one of them to speak. Bertram did.

  “We have been told that much of the range along the Green River has been sold. Sold to Gentiles. We have come to see the territorial land map.”

  It was their right, and Captain Stoddard spread the huge map out on his desk. Squares had been blocked off along the Green River, each with a number.

  “That’s been sold, paid in full with gold,” Stoddard said. “I have the titles in my safe, waiting for the owners to pick them up.”

  “You have no right, selling land so near what we have colonized,” said Adolph. “This is our land. We were here first.”

  “I know that,” Captain Stoddard said patiently, “but it does not allow your taking all of Utah Territory by divine right.”

  “You are wrong, Captain,” said Bertram. “Our God ranks far above you and all of the soldiers of the United States government. In settling here, we have obeyed His command.”

  “Since you’re involving God in this land squabble,” Captain Stoddard said, “did he also send you to overrun and capture Jim Bridger’s trading post?”

  “Bridger’s post was abandoned,” said Bertram. “We are claiming it.”

  “Then remove it from that quarter section of land,” Captain Stoddard said. “Bridger is the owner of that land, paid for and registered long before you people settled near the Great Salt Lake. I have notified Washington. If you and your people do not voluntarily go, soldiers will evict you.”*

  Without another word, the Mormons left Captain Stoddard’s office. Only when they had mounted their horses and were riding south did Bertram speak.

  “We will contest the right of the Gentiles to our land. We will build there and defend our holdings, just as we will defend our possession of Bridger’s trading post.”

  In Captain Stoddard’s office, the officer wiped his sweaty face on the sleeve of his blue tunic. By the time he heard from Washington about evicting the Mormons from Bridger’s trading post, hell would likely have busted loose along the Green River. He didn’t doubt for a minute that the Mormons would try to claim the registered and titled land, but he was equally sure that the Texas cowboys who now officially owned the land would not give up their holdings without a fight. He sighed, knowing they had not had time to return from Texas with a trail drive. The Mormons would have ample time to dig in.

  Along the Pecos. August 1, 1853.

  “It’s the first day of August,” said Dallas, who kept up with such things. “We have just thirty more days of decent weather. Then comes the snow.”

  “You’re a cheerful cuss,” Kirby Lowe said. “We might have sun right on through all of September.”

  “Oh, there’ll be sun,” said Dallas. “You just won’t be able to see it, for snow clouds.”

  “You hombres shut up and eat your breakfast,” Lonnie said. “We’ll take it a day at a time, worrying about the weather when we have cause. We’re going to continue driving the herd at the faster gait, like we’ve been doing. Instead of ten—maybe fifteen—miles, we’re shooting for twenty. We’ve had delays, barely gaining ten miles. Now we have catching up to do.”

  Despite her pleas for a horse, Becky still rode in the wagon with Mindy.

  “My leg’s hardly sore at all,” Becky grumbled.

  “It’s not well, either,” said Mindy. “Lonnie’s just being sure. You should be flattered.”

  “I suppose I am flattered some,” Becky said, “but I’ve enjoyed about all I can stand, with only an itchy wool b
lanket between my bare bottom and this wagon seat. Damn it, I want my Levi’s.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” said Mindy. “We’ll see what Lonnie thinks.”

  “He’d better be thinking of my raw, sore behind,” Becky said, “or I’ll raise hell.”

  “Will you?” said Mindy. “You promised there wouldn’t be any more cussing and fighting among us. We’re a family, remember?”

  April and Laura had been riding alongside the wagon, listening to the conversation.

  “Mindy’s right,” Laura said.

  “Yes,” said April. “We’re just going along with what you promised.”

  “Me and my big mouth,” Becky said, trying her best to appear angry.

  Justin Irwin and Wovoka continued riding ahead of the drive, watching for Indian sign. They had seen nobody, nor had they seen any Indian sign. They had reined up and were about to ride back to meet the herd when somewhere upriver a horse nickered. Justin’s horse answered.

  “Damn it,” Justin grunted, “now we’ll have to face them, whoever they are. Wovoka, we’ll talk first. We don’t shoot unless they make some wrong moves.”

  There were four riders, all armed. One of them had his left arm in a sling. They all reined up about a dozen yards away, and the lead rider spoke.

  “We wasn’t expectin’ to see nobody till we got to El Paso. You hombres alone?”

  “No,” Justin said. “We’re with a trail drive downriver a ways. We’ve been lookin’ for Indian sign.”

  One of the men laughed. “You ain’t lookin’ too close. There’s one right next to you.”

  Justin was watching Wovoka’s dark eyes, and he sidestepped his horse until he was between Wovoka and the stranger who had said exactly the wrong thing.

  “This is Wovoka, a Shoshone,” Justin said. He’s part of our outfit, and he don’t like being talked down to. I’m Justin Irwin, and I think it’s in the best interests of all of you if you ride on.”

  “Aw,” said the man who had laughed, “I didn’t mean nothin’. I was just makin’ a joke.”

  “Then don’t make any more,” Justin said. “The four of you ride on the way you were headed. Wovoka and me will follow.”

  Clearly they didn’t wish to do that, but Justin had hooked his thumb in his gunbelt near the butt of his Colt. Wovoka wore a tied-down Colt, and glared at them like he could cheerfully kill them all. Justin and Wovoka sidestepped their horses, allowing the four strangers to get ahead of them. Then they all started downriver. Riding point, Lonnie saw them coming and raised his hat, the signal to halt the drive. He then sat his horse, waiting for the four strangers to reach him. They did, and reined up, Justin and Wovoka behind them.

  “They claim to be on their way to El Paso, Lonnie,” said Justin.

  “Do you hombres have names?” Lonnie asked.

  “Yeah,” said one of the bearded men, “but we don’t consider that none of your damn business.”

  “In Texas,” Lonnie said grimly, “a gent that hides his name is generally a no-account rustler, a bank robber, or a low-down, back-shootin’ coyote. Now who the hell are you?”

  It was more of an insult than they were willing to take. The man nearest Lonnie went for his gun, only to find himself facing Lonnie’s Colt, cocked and ready. The other three hadn’t made a move, because Justin and Wovoka were still behind them. The stranger who had his Colt halfway out of the holster let it slide back. Finally he spoke.

  “I’m Dobie Aikens. The others is Neal Stubbs, Rye Wimberly, and Fox Presnall. Now are you satisfied?”

  “Not quite,” said Lonnie. “I’m trail boss for this drive, and I don’t like the looks of any of you. Circle wide of the herd and go on your way.”

  “You might at least have given us an invite to supper,” growled the man with his left arm in a sling. “You’re one unsociable son-of-a-bitch.”

  “I’ll go considerably beyond that,” said Lonnie, “if you don’t move on. You’ve just seen the good side of me. Now ride.”

  The four of them rode on, circling wide around the herd. Not until they had passed the drag riders did they notice the women. Becky and Mindy were on the wagon seat, while April and Laura rode alongside the wagon.

  “Thunderation,” said Dobie Aikens. “Females.”

  He reined up his horse, but only for a moment. Waco and Gus had left the herd and had started toward the four strangers. Aikens trotted his horse, catching up to his three companions.

  “Aikens, you’re a damn fool,” Neal Stubbs said. “This is a salty Texas outfit, and that trail boss could of filled your gut with lead before you got your pistol out. Forget them females and let’s ride on while we can.”

  “A trail boss will bleed just like anybody else,” said Aikens, “and the bastard’s got to sleep sometime. So have them females.”

  “Well, if you got any thoughts of ridin’ back,” Rye Wimberly said, “you’re damn well goin’ to divide the gold we took in that robbery in Santa Fe.”

  “Yeah,” said Fox Presnall, his slitted eyes on Aikens. “I was the only one that was shot, and if you even look like you aim to weasel me out of my share, I’ll kill you. Just remember, this ain’t my gun arm in the sling.”

  Aikens said nothing, and the four rode on.

  Justin joined the drag riders, while Wovoka rode to the point position with Lonnie. Gus and Waco trotted their horses along, Justin between them.

  “Who was that sorry-lookin’ bunch?” Waco asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Justin. “My horse nickered, and there was no way Wovoka and me could avoid them. The best we could do was force them to ride on ahead of us. When Lonnie insisted on knowing who they were, one of them tried to draw on him. I’ve never seen a man pull iron as quick as Lonnie. He buffaloed the four of them without firing a shot.”

  “I saw them slow down when they saw the wagon and the women,” said Gus. “I think we’ll have to be careful while we’re on watch tonight. None of our guns will save us if we’re bushwhacked from behind in the dark.”

  April and Laura left the wagon and joined the drag riders, seeking to learn who the four strangers had been.

  “Wovoka and me ran into them upriver,” said Justin. “The best we could do was force them to ride on ahead of us. After one of them went for his gun and Lonnie outdrew him, they gave us some names that may or may not be their real ones.”

  “If looks mean anything,” April said, “I’d hate to be left alone with any one of them.”

  Having learned all they could, April and Laura dropped back to ride beside the wagon. Becky and Mindy were anxiously awaiting some explanation regarding the strange riders.

  “I saw them looking at us before they rode on,” said Mindy. “I hope they’ll keep going wherever they’re headed.”

  “I think Lonnie will have something to say to us after we bed down the herd for the night,” Becky said.

  The herd traveled on another ten miles before Lonnie judged it was time to call it a day. After his usual signal, they bedded down the longhorns beside the river, and their horse remuda just a few yards farther upriver. Lonnie rode over to the wagon where Gus and Waco were unhitching the teams.

  “Mindy,” said Lonnie, “do you think Becky’s leg has healed enough for her to get back into her Levi’s without tearing off the scab?”

  “Maybe,” Mindy said. “We can try, if Becky’s willing.”

  “I feel like my bare behind’s grown to this wagon seat,” said Becky. “I’ll endure anything I have to just to get back on my horse.”

  “I reckon you’ll be on the wagon seat a few more days,” Lonnie said. “Mindy’s had the wagon all the time you’ve been laid up.”

  “Oh, God,” said Becky with a groan, “I owe you a week.”

  “At least you won’t be sittin’ here in your shirttail,” Mindy said. “That is, if we can get your Levi’s on over that sore leg.”

  “They’ll go on,” said Becky. “Get them now. I want to help with supper.”

  “Becky,” Lo
nnie said, “don’t rush it.”

  “Get me my damn britches,” Becky said, “or I’ll go looking for them myself.”

  “They’re in the back of the wagon,” said Mindy.

  “Get them,” Lonnie said. “We might as well find out if she’s in as good a condition as she thinks.”

  Working together, Lonnie and Mindy managed to ease the Levi’s on, being careful not to hurt the scabbed-over wound. Triumphantly, Becky buttoned the Levi’s and stood up. She would have fallen if Lonnie hadn’t caught her.

  “You’ve been sitting so long, you’ll have to practice walking again,” said Lonnie. “I’ll help you down and you can hang on to me.”

  “And I think you’d better let April, Laura, and me get supper,” Mindy said.

  “I think so, too,” said Lonnie, “and you may not be ready to take over the wagon just yet. We’ll see how you’re feeling in the morning.”

  They left Becky lying on a blanket beside the river, and she had to content herself with the return of her Levi’s. Supper was ready well before dark, and when they all had eaten, Lonnie called them all together.

  “All of you saw the four hombres that rode by here today,” Lonnie said. “Maybe they rode on, but we can’t gamble on that. They could return sometime in the night.”