“Sí,” Wovoka said. “Keep horse.”
“We aim to, Wovoka,” said Lonnie. “We have enough stolen stock already to get all of us hanged ten times over. What’s four more?”
When Lonnie judged they had ridden half the distance back to camp, they reined up to rest the horses.
“Mindy,” Dallas said, “do you want to get down and stretch your legs?”
“No,” said Mindy, “as much as I’d like to. I’m sitting on the edges of this blanket, and I don’t think I’d ever get it back into place.”
The four of them rode on, and well before they reached the wagon, the outfit heard them coming.
“Who are you?” shouted Waco Talley.
“Lonnie, Dallas, Mindy, and Wovoka,” Lonnie replied.
Becky, April, and Laura were there to help Mindy off the horse, disregarding the fact that she was only modestly covered by a horse blanket.
“Will one of you please get me a new pair of Levi’s and a shirt from the wagon?” Mindy begged.
Becky began rummaging around in the wagon, seeking Mindy’s clothing. Lonnie, Dallas, and Wovoka unsaddled their own horses and then unsaddled the four horses that had once belonged to Aikens and his companions. Lonnie spread out the horse blanket that Mindy had been wearing, and removed one of the heavy saddlebags from Aikens’s packhorse. He upended the saddlebag, and double eagles tumbled into a pile on one corner of the blanket. The procedure was repeated with each of the saddlebags, resulting in four piles of gold coins.
“Thunderation,” Justin Irwin said, “that’s a fortune.”
“It is,” said Lonnie, “and it’s unlikely these varmints got it without stealing it. Worse, they may have killed for it.”
“They seem to have divided it equally,” Dallas said. “We can count one pile and have some idea how much is there.”
“Justin,” said Lonnie, “you, Elliot, Dirk, and Kirby each count a pile. I think this is the reason Aikens slipped back in the dark and murdered the other three outlaws.”
“Mindy,” Becky said, “come over here and talk to Laura, April, and me while we get the breakfast ready. We want to know all about what happened.”
“What’s the verdict?” Lonnie asked when the cowboys had counted the double eagles.
“Five thousand and forty dollars,” said Elliot Graves.
“The same here,” Justin said.
“Same thing here,” said Dirk.
“That’s what I got, too,” Kirby said.
“So for some reason, they split up,” said Lonnie. “Likely Aikens slipped back during the night and murdered the others for their shares.”
“Now,” Dallas said, “what are we going to do with it? If we get caught with this and it’s identified, we could get life in Yuma.”
“That’s the trouble,” Lonnie said. “There’s nothing we can tie this back to. Generally, a bunch of varmints with this much coin got it by sticking up a bank. But we don’t know where it came from. We’ll take it with us, and maybe there’ll be a sheriff in Santa Fe who can shed some light on it.”
“Maybe there won’t be,” said Kirby. “That’s enough to buy the rest of the Green River range, or a hell of a lot more cows and horses.”
“I reckon,” Lonnie said, “but nobody ever came to a good end by using what he took, stealing from somebody else. Unless there’s no proof of ownership, we’re returning every dollar to the gents it was stolen from. I reckon it’ll depend on the sheriff.”
April, Laura, and Becky soon had breakfast ready. Mindy wore her new Levi’s and a new shirt, and seemed no worse for her recent experience. When Wovoka came through the breakfast line, they filled his tin plate to overflowing, and then filled a second plate for him.
“I don’t know about other Indians,” Mindy said, “but Wovoka’s a man from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.”
After breakfast, Lonnie rolled the mass of gold coins into a blanket, making a place for it in the back of the wagon. Becky was already on the wagon box, her first time to handle the teams after being attacked by the mule. April, Laura, and Mindy already had saddled their horses. The outfit was ready when Lonnie shouted the command.
“Head ’em up, move ’em out.”
Wovoka rode beside Lonnie, while on his other side Justin Irwin rode.
“Justin,” said Lonnie, “you and Wovoka cover at least twenty miles. More, if you find any reason to be suspicious.”
Justin and Wovoka rode on ahead and soon were out of sight. Lonnie had given the order to increase the gait, and the herd had responded. The number of their horses had increased to the extent that the horse remuda had been bunched up at drag directly behind the cattle. It allowed the drag riders more control and with the horses directly behind the herd, it discouraged the longhorns who might otherwise have bolted down the back trail. The weather continued hot and the sky cloudless. As the day wore on, it became obvious that the drive was going to cover more than the usual twelve to fifteen miles. April, Laura and Mindy rode beside the wagon.
“You’re awful close to the horse remuda,” said April. “If something scared the horses and they decided to run, you couldn’t possibly get out of their way.”
“I know,” Mindy said, “but this is the way Lonnie wants it. He thinks, with the horse remuda in between the tag end of the herd and the wagon, there’ll be less chance of the cattle stampeding.”
Justin and Wovoka rode what they believed was twenty miles, without finding anything but four sets of tracks—of shod horses—heading south.
“This has to be the tracks of the four coyotes that showed up at our camp yesterday,” said Justin.
Wovoka nodded his agreement, and they rode on a little farther before turning around and riding back to meet the herd. Justin and Wovoka rode alongside Lonnie long enough to tell him of the tracks heading south.
“Since they’re following the river,” Lonnie said, “it looks more and more like they were headed for El Paso or the border. It also looks like the robbery might have taken place in Santa Fe, since they were traveling almost due south from there.”
Justin rode on back to join the drag riders, leaving Wovoka with Lonnie.
“I was kind of hoping that gold hadn’t been stolen in Santa Fe,” said Dirk McNelly. “It might be ours.”
“Lonnie’s almost sure it was taken in Santa Fe,” Justin said, “and unless something changes his mind, he aims to find out who it was stolen from.”
With the herd bedded down for the night and supper being prepared, Lonnie spread out the big government map they had been using. There were few landmarks, except the rivers.
“I figure we’re just about here,” said Lonnie, pointing to a position along the Pecos.
“Another week as good as today,” Dallas said, “and we’ll be close to Santa Fe. I’d say we’re maybe a hundred and fifty miles south.”
“In a way, I hate to get there,” said Becky. “It’s been nice, following the Pecos and always having plenty of water.”
“According to the map,” Lonnie said, “we’ll do well not to follow the Pecos all the way to Santa Fe. A few miles from there, we can turn to the northwest, reaching the Rio Grande. We can then follow it on into southern Colorado Territory.”
“There’s a string of mountains just after we enter southern Colorado,” said Dirk, “but they don’t seem to have a name.”
“That should be the Continental Divide,” Lonnie said. “If we’re due to have trouble with the wagon, I expect it to come while we’re crossing these mountains.”
“Just south of Santa Fe,” said Justin, pointing to the map, “there’s a thin line leading west. That must be the cutoff to the Rio Grande.”
“You and Wovoka will be taking some long rides, Justin,” Lonnie said. “Once we leave the Pecos, we need to know how far it is to the next sure water. We can’t be sure the Rio Grande is close enough for us to reach it with a day’s drive.”
“Once we’re near Santa Fe,” Becky asked, “who’s goin
g in to the store?”
“I reckon we all can, as long as we don’t go at the same time,” said Lonnie. “I think we’ll take the wagon in first, replenishing supplies which are low or have been used up entirely. I don’t know what can go wrong, but if something does, I’d prefer not to have the wagon in town any longer than necessary.”
“I think we’ll surprise a lot of folks,” Waco said. “I’ll bet this is the first trail drive that’s ever come up the Pecos bound for Utah Territory.”
“I just hope we don’t find another bunch of rustlers there, wantin’ to take over our herd and the horses,” said Elliot Graves.
“If we do,” Lonnie said, “we’ll treat them just like we treated the others.”
Along the Pecos. August 6, 1853.
As had become their custom, Justin and Wovoka continued riding at least twenty miles ahead every day. This day, they were about to return to the herd when Wovoka pointed ahead. He trotted his horse to investigate, Justin following. The ground was bare, but the tracks of the four riders who had been riding south along the Pecos were no longer there.
“Let’s backtrack until we learn where they turned off,” said Justin.
Finally, some fifty yards to the south, where the ground was covered with fallen leaves, they found all the evidence they needed. The four riders had come in from the west, then following the Pecos south.
“Since they were outlaws,” Justin said, “I’m guessing they followed the Rio Grande for a ways and then cut across to the Pecos, maybe to confuse a posse. I think we’d better go on until we reach the Rio Grande, to see if there’s water and graze between here and there.”
Reaching the Rio Grande—a distance that Justin estimated at twenty-five miles—they rode upstream a ways. As Justin had expected, the four sets of tracks they had seen leading south along the Pecos had turned west, leaving the Rio Grande.
“That’s what they done,” said Justin. “They lit out along the Rio Grande, and then—maybe after dark—they cut across to the Pecos. It’s time we was gettin’ back.”
Wovoka nodded. They turned their horses and rode back toward the Pecos. There they took notice of landmarks, so that the herd could take the short route to the Rio Grande.
“I think you’re right, Justin,” Lonnie said, when Justin had explained what he believed the outlaws had done. “Tomorrow night should be our last night on the Pecos. Once we’ve left it, we’ll have to keep the herd and the horses moving so we can reach water before dark. I was hoping it wouldn’t be that far from the Pecos to the Rio Grande.”
“Well, it is,” said Justin, “and we didn’t cross any streams between the Pecos and the Rio Grande.”
After the herd had been bedded down and supper was being prepared, Lonnie told the outfit what Justin and Wovoka had learned.
“Twenty-five miles in one day?” Kirby Lowe said. “We’ll have to run the legs off the cattle and the horses, and then might not make it.”
“It’s that or a dry camp,” said Lonnie, “and if you’ve never experienced one, I can assure you that you won’t like it.”
“We’ll have to get an early start and push like hell,” Dallas said. “Once we reach the Rio Grande, how far will we be from Santa Fe?”
“The Rio Grande, flowing in from the north, bypasses Santa Fe,” said Lonnie, “and I’m hoping it’ll be far enough from town so that our herd and horse remuda won’t draw any unwanted attention. We should be near enough to wind up all our business in Santa Fe in one day. Not more than two.”
The next day, Wovoka rode with Lonnie ahead of the herd. It was late afternoon when Wovoka held up his hand. They had reached the place where the four outlaws had ridden in from the Rio Grande. Lonnie raised his hat, signaling the flank, swing, and drag riders to head the herd and bunch them for the night.
“This will be our last night on the Pecos,” Lonnie said, as the outfit gathered while supper was being prepared. “Tomorrow, it’s west to the Rio Grande, and as some of you know, Justin figures it’s a good twenty-five miles. Staying on the Rio Grande, we should pass almost within sight of Santa Fe. If we make the long drive tomorrow, we should be close enough for us to ride in the day after tomorrow.”
To the Rio Grande. August 8, 1853.
The sky was still gray in the east when the outfit bunched the cattle and the horses.
“Head ’em up, move ’em out,” Lonnie shouted.
The drag riders were on the very heels of the horse remuda, keeping the remuda tight, so that, looking back, the longhorns could see only an advancing wall of horses. Several of the drag steers, seeking to quit the herd, found themselves being nipped on the flank when they tried to slow down, their behinds colliding with a horse’s muzzle.
It was Mindy’s day with the wagon, and she had her hands full trying to keep the wagon up with the horse remuda. Not liking the increased gait, one of the remuda horses reared. His hooves came down hard on the rear of the horse ahead of him, who retaliated by snaking his head around and snapping at the offender. Cows bawled and horses nickered, but the cowboys kept them moving. Despite their haste, it was dark when they headed the horses and longhorns, bedding them down along the river. After supper, Lonnie sought out Justin Irwin.
“Tomorrow,” said Lonnie, “I want you and Wovoka to choose us a campsite along the river to the north of Santa Fe.”
There was considerable excitement among the riders, as they looked forward to a visit to town. It might be months—or years—before they had another such opportunity.
Along the Rio Grande. August 9, 1853.
The following day, Justin and Wovoka rode out, seeking a place along the Rio Grande that was near town, where they could bed down the herd and their horse remuda. The pair soon returned.
“It’s maybe twelve miles,” said Justin, “and the graze looks better than any we’ve had so far. It’s close in, but not within sight of the town.”
“Bueno,” Lonnie said. “I think we’ll stay there a couple of days so our herd and our horses can take advantage of the good graze.”
After supper, there was a lively discussion about who would be first to visit the town.
“I don’t want to sound selfish,” said Benjamin Raines, “but I’m out of plug, and I’m near dead for a chew.”
“Why don’t we let Gus, Waco, Sandy, Benjamin, Elliot, and Justin go in first?” Dallas said. “The rest of us can take the wagon the next day, and maybe before the town finds out we’re here we can be gone. It’ll still be early. They could ride in after supper.”
“That might be a good idea,” said Lonnie. “Then tomorrow, the rest of us will go in, taking the wagon.”
But after supper, when she and Lonnie were alone, Becky had a chance to talk to him.
“Why are you letting the riders go into town ahead of us? Do you know something about this town that the rest of us don’t?”
“No,” said Lonnie, “I’ve never been to Santa Fe, and I don’t know a thing about it. I’d say we can let our six riders go in first without anyone being aware that they’re part of a trail drive. If the rest of us went in first, with women and a wagon, it would be a dead giveaway. Stocking up with provisions at the store would be enough to convince certain people that we have money, that we’re worth robbing.”
“They’ll all see the rest of us and the wagon the next day,” Becky pointed out.
“True,” said Lonnie, “but by then we’ll be past with the town. We’ll keep a close watch on the herd and the horses at night, and we should be able to get away from here without any trouble.”
Santa Fe. August 10, 1853.
The outfit maintained the faster gait, and the drive reached the graze that Justin and Wovoka had selected well before sundown.
“We won’t take the wagon in for supplies until tomorrow,” said Lonnie. “Gus, Waco, Sandy, Benjamin, Elliot, and Justin are welcome to ride in right now, unless you want to wait for supper.”
“I’m needin’ some plug a lot more than I’m needin’ supper,�
�� Benjamin Raines said. “I’ll ride in and get enough to last me a while.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for one man to ride into a strange town alone,” said Waco. “I think the rest of us should go with you.”
The others quickly agreed. The six riders saddled fresh horses and headed for town.
“I know they’re good men, and that there are six of them,” Mindy said, “but I can’t rid myself of the idea there may be trouble. Most of our horse remuda’s stolen, and more than twenty thousand dollars in gold is in the wagon.”
“I reckon it’s a chance we’ll have to take,” said Lonnie. “I’ve warned them about the saloons, and if they’re thirsty for a drink, to satisfy it with a beer or two.”
Having been founded by the Spanish, Santa Fe was an old town. Streets were narrow, with every place of business shoulder-to-shoulder with others on either side. First, the six cowboys found a mercantile, where they filled their saddlebags with tobacco, shells for their weapons, and clean socks. They then went in search of a cafe. They found one—the Henhouse—that looked interesting.
“Let’s try this one,” Waco suggested. “With such a name as that, they just might have fried chicken. It’s been months since I’ve tasted that.”
“Let’s find out,” said Justin. “If they don’t have it, we can always leave.”
But they found fried chicken was the house speciality, and the six of them took the largest table in the place.
“Bring us two platters of fried chicken, with the fixings that go with it,” Waco said when the waiter arrived.
“Yeah,” said Gus, “and get some more to cooking. This may not be enough.”
First the waiter brought coffee cups and a large blue-granite coffeepot. Cups filled, the cowboys settled down to enjoy the coffee while waiting for their food. After devouring three platters of fried chicken, they decided they’d had enough. They left the cafe.
“Well, we’ve had ourselves a mess of fried chicken, and we’ve been to the store,” Gus said. “Where do we go from here?”
The Green River Trail Page 19
