Devil's Canyon

by Ralph Compton

  “Look at this ground,” said Odessa. “There are no permanent ruts, so this has never been a wagon road. There are no tracks except those made by the five wagons, their mule teams, the led horses, and the horses of the four riders following. Except for what we can see right now, there might not have been anybody through here for a hundred years.”

  “So?” Mamie said. “That proves exactly what?”

  “That these four horsemen didn’t just happen this way,” said Odessa. “They’re following the freight wagons.”

  “Oh, damn it,” Mamie said, “you’re impossible. I don’t wish to discuss it further.”

  “Have it your way,” said Odessa, “but I think those teamsters are about to encounter some unexpected trouble, and I won’t be surprised if Hal Durham is neck-deep in it. Why else has he thrown in with them?”

  “Oh, God, I don’t know,” Mamie said, exasperated, “but I hope he has. Perhaps one of them will shoot him.”

  * * *

  “I laid it on the line to Durham,” Slade told his outlaw companions. “If he don’t soon come up with some information we can use, we’ll ambush the lot of them, and figure it all out for ourselves.”

  “I think you just played hell,” said Hindes. “You’re givin’ Durham all the reasons he needs to double-cross us. Now he’s likely to throw in with them teamsters, to save his own hide.”

  “I got to agree with Hindes,” Withers said. “They ain’t been on the trail long enough for Durham to learn much.”

  “I’m agreein’ with Hindes and Withers,” said Peeler. “Damn it, this was all your idea, plantin’ Durham in their camp. Now that he’s there, give him time to play out his hand. If he double-crosses us, we can shoot him when we bushwhack the others.”

  “I’ll buy that,” Kritzer said.

  “So all of you are lined up against me,” said Slade bitterly. “By God, we should have split up after Hindes shot that bank teller in Tucumcari.”

  “We ain’t wantin’ to split up,” Withers said soothingly. “Hell, can’t we disagree with you, without you wantin’ to ride off and quit?”

  “Yeah,” said Kritzer, “this is no time to fold. Usin’ Durham may not be a bad idea, but you’re goin’ at it wrong.”

  “Thanks,” Slade said. “Why don’t you tell me how I should go at it?”

  “I will,” said Kritzer defiantly. “After we hit that bank in Tucumcari, Durham saved our hides. You made him one of us, you been usin’ him ever since, but you ain’t promised him a damn thing.”

  Hindes laughed. “Slade’s promised to shoot him if he don’t come through for us.”

  “My point, exactly,” Kritzer said. “If a man’s takin’ a risk, he’s got a right to expect some reward.”

  “Yeah,” said Withers, “and bein’ shot ain’t exactly a reward.”

  “I reckon I been overlookin’ that,” Slade said. “I’ll loosen the reins a mite, and maybe convince Durham he’s one of us. We got just a little over two thousand dollars from that bank job in Tucumcari. Each of us would of had five hundred, but bein’ fair, we got to cut Durham in. Five men thins the pot down to four hundred for each of us. Next time I meet Durham, I’ll see that he gets his share.”

  “What the hell?” Hindes bawled.

  “That wasn’t exactly what we had in mind,” said Peeler.

  Withers and Kritzer said nothing. Slade laughed.

  * * *

  When Durham returned from his meeting with Slade, he looked grim. While nobody said anything, Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas eyed the gambler suspiciously.

  “Remember,” said Faro, “when you sleep, spread your blankets near one another. We don’t know how soon the Utes will discover us, and I reckon they’d like nothing better than finding us sleeping under separate wagons.”

  Faro had seen to it that the wagons were in the open, away from underbrush or trees that might leave them partially or fully in shadow. The three men on watch were moving constantly, coming together only occasionally for brief conversations. It was near midnight when Faro heard movement.

  “Durham!”

  “Damn it,” said the gambler, “I have a cramp in my leg. I need to stand.”

  “Not near as bothersome as a bullet through the head,” Faro replied. “Stay put.”

  “It’s time for us to begin the second watch,” said Collins. “We might as well get up.”

  “Please, Mr. Duval,” Durham said, “since I’m on second watch, is it all right if I get up, too?”

  “Careful, Faro,” said Dallas. “Next thing, he’ll be wantin’ you to go to the bushes with him, and hold his hand.”

  Shanghai and Tarno laughed.

  “That’s enough,” Faro said angrily. “The three of you get to your bedrolls. Durham, you get the hell out of yours.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” said Durham meekly.

  Faro silently cursed Durham for his sarcasm, and his three companions for using it as a source of cowboy humor. He barely spoke to Collins or Durham throughout the second watch, as he wrestled with a troublesome question. What was Hal Durham’s game?

  * * *

  Fortunately for Slade and his companions, they made their camp well away from the river, in the surrounding brush. Being in no hurry, lest they catch up to the wagons, they slept well past dawn. So it was that when they heard approaching horses, they hadn’t yet started their breakfast fire. They watched from cover as Mamie and Odessa McCutcheon rode past, obviously following the wagons. Suddenly, Odessa reined up. When she spoke, they heard her clearly.

  “Them four varmints that was followin’ the wagons has left us.”

  “Like I told you,” Mamie said, “they likely wasn’t followin’ the wagons at all. They just turned off somewhere and went their way.”

  “Well, I think they were,” said Odessa, “and I’m of a mind to double back and see how far it was they left the trail.”

  “Oh, come on,” Mamie said. “Don’t go looking for trouble. God knows, there’s always enough, without scratching and digging for more.”

  They rode on as Slade and his companions looked at one another in wonder.

  “Who in hell are they?” Kritzer wondered.

  “That pair of females looks tough enough to go huntin’ cougars with a switch,” said Withers.

  “Yeah,” Peeler said, “and they been trackin’ us. At least, one of ’em has.”

  “By God,” said Hindes, “I never seen a female whose tongue wasn’t thonged down in the middle and loose at both ends. When they catch up to them wagons, you think that nosy old pelican won’t tell them teamsters they’re bein’ trailed?”

  “Maybe not,” Slade said. “You heard her. She didn’t notice where we rode off, and up ahead they won’t find our tracks.”

  “I purely don’t like bein’ bogged down in somethin’ I don’t understand,” said Kritzer. “Where does these two fit in, and why are they followin’ them wagons?”

  “God,” Withers said, “they was carryin’ tied-down pistols, with rifles in their saddle boots. I never seen a woman carry that much artillery.”

  “I’d bet my horse and saddle they can use it, too,” said Peeler.

  “We’ll go on,” Slade said, “and I reckon we’ll find out what business they got with them wagons.”

  “Don’t none of you forget,” said Hindes. “There’s always the Utes.”

  Chapter 3

  The trail west. August 5, 1870.

  The night had passed uneventfully, and following a hurried breakfast, the wagons took the trail. The terrain had grown progressively rougher, and teams crept along slowly as teamsters sought to avoid drop-offs and large stones that might crack, allowing the full weight of the wagon to lurch against a single wheel. But before the caravan had been on the trail an hour, there came that sound they all dreaded: the sickening, shattering crunch of a ruined wagon wheel.

  “Well, by God, that don’t come as no surprise,” said Tarno Spangler as he swung down from his wagon box.

  Durham�
�s wagon reared back in an unnatural position, for nothing remained of the left rear wheel except the hub with its shattered spokes. Durham still sat on the wagon box, the reins in his hand.

  “Get down,” Shanghai said in disgust. “We ain’t jackin’ the wagon up with you settin’ on it.”

  Faro was looking at the huge stone over which the broken wheel had tried to cross. The stone had rolled, allowing the wheel to slide off and slam into the solid rock beneath it.

  “Durham,” said Faro, “this could have been avoided. There was room for that wheel to pass without even touching the stone that caused the break. Were you asleep?”

  Durham had climbed down from the wagon box, and he faced Faro defiantly.

  “Hell, I can’t see every rut and rock in the trail,” he snarled.

  Faro’s patience had run out. He brought his right all the way up from his boot tops, and his fist slammed against Durham’s chin. The gambler’s feet left the ground and he hit the rocky ground on his back. He sat up, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

  “When you take the reins,” Faro said grimly, “it’s your responsibility as a teamster to see every rut and rock in the trail. Now get up. You have work to do.”

  Tarno and Dallas removed the spare wheel and wagon jack from Durham’s wagon.

  “Remarkable insight, loading the spare wheel and the jack behind the freight,” Collins observed.

  “It’s the first and most important thing a teamster learns,” said Faro. “To do otherwise would be like slidin’ your Winchester into the saddle boot empty, and lockin’ all your shells away in a trunk.”

  To Durham fell the dubious honor of jacking up the sagging rear of the wagon. With a huge hub wrench created for that purpose, Faro broke loose the hub of the shattered wheel and removed it. Within an hour, the wagon was again ready for the trail. Durham had already mounted his wagon box when the two riders appeared. Every man had paused, his hand near the butt of his revolver, but they all relaxed when it became obvious their visitors were women. Durham dropped the reins and was about to leap from the box when Odessa McCutcheon spoke.

  “Mr. Durham, you just stay right where you are, so’s we can keep an eye on you. Slide down off that box, and I’ll part your hair with a slug.”

  “Ma’am,” said Faro, “since you obviously have an interest in Durham, I reckon you’d better tell the rest of us who you are, and what you want.”

  “We’re the McCutcheons, from Amarillo, Texas. Mr. Durham, here, took a thousand dollars from us. He was to buy a team of horses, a buckboard, and take us with him to California.”

  “He compromised our honor,” said Mamie, “and then sneaked off without us.”

  Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas had been watching Durham’s face, and could control their mirth no longer. Slapping their thighs, they howled with laughter. Faro was distracted for a moment by the outrageous conduct of his companions, and that was almost enough. Hal Durham had drawn his Colt from beneath his coat when, with a suddenness that surprised them all, Odessa McCutcheon drew her Colt and fired. The slug slammed into Durham’s right shoulder, and his weapon clattered to the wagon box.

  “Damn you,” Durham shouted, clutching his wounded shoulder.

  “Get down,” said Faro, “and take off your coat and shirt. I reckon we’ll have to patch you up, since these ladies seem to have plans for you.”

  “While that’s being done,” Collins said, “I believe we should establish the ownership of this wagon and these mules. After all, there’s a fifth of my goods in the wagon. Ladies, I am Levi Collins. These teamsters are Faro Duval, Shanghai Taylor, Tarno Spangler, and Dallas Weaver.”

  “I’m Odessa McCutcheon, and this is my sister, Mamie. We’ve told you all that we…all that’s decent…to tell. Has this skunk took any money from you for the wagon and the mules?”

  “No,” said Collins. “He offered us the use of the wagon and mules for as far as we’ll be going, in return for enough supplies to take him on to California.”

  “In Santa Fe, we were told the territory between here and California is very rough, and inhabited by hostile Indians,” Mamie said. “Do you believe it’s possible for a wagon to get through?”

  “I understand it’s twelve hundred miles,” said Collins, “and we’re only going the first five hundred. A good teamster, taking his time, can get that far. Beyond that, I can’t say.”

  “Mamie and me kind of like the idea of goin’ on to California,” Odessa said. “Will you make us the same offer of supplies to California, for use of the wagon and teams as far as you aim to go?”

  “Yes,” said Collins, “and gladly. We were desperate for another wagon. Will you be taking Mr. Durham with you?”

  “I wouldn’t take them to a dogfight if they was guests of honor,” Durham shouted.

  “Durham,” said Dallas, “you shut your mouth, or I’ll leave your damn wound open and bleeding.”

  “Mr. Durham promised us a trip to California,” Odessa said, “and I think it only fair that he honor that promise. God knows, he hasn’t honored anything else.”

  “Yes,” said Mamie, “he should be an experienced teamster by the time your freight is unloaded from the wagon. Then Mr. Durham can take it on to California, and us with it.”

  “After all you’ve been through,” Collins said, “you’d trust him not to do you harm?”

  “We don’t trust him as far as we’d trust a sand rattler,” said Odessa. “He can’t do a thing to us he ain’t done before, and the difference is, this time, he won’t get any help from us. One bad move, and we’ll leave the varmint hog-tied upside down over a slow fire.”

  Faro laughed. “I do believe the ladies can take care of themselves.”

  “The deal’s off, Collins,” Durham snarled. “I ain’t takin’ this damn team and wagon no farther. Especially not to California.”

  “You made a deal, Durham,” said Faro, “and we’re holding you to it. In return for your services, you’ll be allowed enough supplies to get you to California. Whether or not you choose to go is entirely up to you.”

  “We’ll pay our way for as long as we’re with you,” Mamie offered. “We can do all the cooking.”

  “Yes,” said Odessa. “In Texas, we cooked for cow camps during branding.”

  “I can’t speak for anybody but me,” Dallas said, “but that’s music to my ears.”

  “Yes,” shouted Shanghai and Tarno, in a single voice.

  “I won’t say no to that,” said Faro, “but this promises to be a long, hard ride. Could be especially rough on you ladies.”

  “Then don’t think of us as ladies,” Odessa said. “We grew up in Texas, with cowboys and bull whackers. There ain’t nothin’ any of you can say or do that we ain’t heard said or seen done a dozen times.”

  “There are hostile Ute Indians,” said Collins.

  “No matter,” Odessa said. “Are they worse than hostile Comanches?”

  “I doubt it,” said Faro. “Collins, I think they’re as well equipped for this trail as any of us. The two of you have rifles in your saddle boots. Can you hit what you’re shootin’ at?”

  “Anything crawlin’, walkin’, runnin’, or flyin’,” Odessa said. “Need some proof?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Faro. “Your word’s good enough for me.”

  Dallas had bandaged Durham’s wound, and was helping him into his shirt and coat. The gambler’s ears perked up when Odessa spoke to Faro.

  “We found somethin’ that might interest you. For a good long ways, four horsemen was following you. Maybe half a dozen miles back, they veered off, and we didn’t see their tracks again.”

  “We don’t know they were following you,” Mamie said. “Odessa thinks they were.”

  “I was through here a week ago, riding to Santa Fe,” said Collins, “and there wasn’t a sign of a track. This isn’t the kind of country men travel without some definite purpose.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Faro added. “Colli
ns, when we move out tomorrow, I’d like for you to take my wagon for a while. I’d better have a look at our back trail. All of you back to your wagons. We’re moving out.”

  “I can’t handle the teams with a hurt arm,” said Durham.

  “Then get off the box and get on your horse,” Odessa said. “I’ll take over the wagon and teams, but I refuse to ride the box with you.”

  The men watched with considerable amusement as Durham climbed down from the box and untied his horse from behind the wagon. Odessa climbed to the box, took the reins, and clucked to the teams.

  “A remarkable woman,” said Collins. “Mamie, are you as adept as Odessa?”

  “Of course I am,” Mamie said, “but don’t tell her.”

  * * *

  “The rest of you hang back here for a while,” Slade said, after the McCutcheon sisters had ridden on. “Them females is bound to catch up to the wagons, and when they do, I aim to be close enough to see what happens. I’d like to know how they fit into all this.”

  Slade rode up to a higher elevation from which he could see the river without being seen. He then followed the ridge, but before he could see the wagons, he heard a shot. He kicked his horse into a fast gallop, and by the time he could see the wagons, Durham was removing his coat. Even from a distance, Slade could see the bloodstain on the shoulder of the gambler’s white shirt.

  “Damn him,” Slade said under his breath. “Done some fool thing, got himself plugged, and likely learned nothin’.”

  While Slade couldn’t hear the words, all the activity below was sufficient to hold his attention. He watched Dallas attend to Durham’s wound and saw him again climb up to the wagon box. Finally, there was another exchange of words, and Durham was replaced on the wagon box by one of the newly arrived women. The wagons again took the trail, and on his horse, Durham followed the fifth wagon. Shaking his head, Slade rode back to join his impatient companions, uncertain as to what he should tell them.

  * * *

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and even with the time lost replacing a wheel on Durham’s wagon, Faro estimated they had covered almost twenty miles. At first, he’d had his doubts about Odessa McCutcheon’s ability to handle the teams, but Odessa had proven herself as adept as any man. Moreover, when they reined up at the end of the day, Odessa was the first to have her teams unharnessed. While she was so involved, Mamie got a supper fire started. Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas happily pointed out the locations of the food, the two coffeepots, and other utensils. The lot of them watched in amazement as Mamie and Odessa prepared supper in record time.