Arizona Territory

by Dusty Richards

  “Sure, he could use the pay. His name is Lou James. Well, men, I appreciate the business. Thanks. I’ll try to outfit you best that I can. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Byrnes.”

  “Liz will do.”

  Rymore smiled at her. “My wife is Hispanic. She would love to meet you.”

  “I don’t know what I have to do for these guys, but maybe we can find the time to meet.”

  “Thanks again, and be careful. You know this hostile Indian thing is not over.”

  “We like our hair. We will,” Chet promised him.

  Later, in the hotel bed, he told her he thought from his attitude and attention to details that Rymore was a good man.

  “He certainly sounds like a real businessman. I know your head is swimming in all this business. Don’t worry about me. I’m proud to be here with you. I will be fine, and I can help, if you tell me what to do.”

  “You keep track of what we order and what we get. I can work that bunch then, and not have to worry about this end of it.”

  “Good.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I know it will be hell ahead, but we may make a good deal out of this lost herd business.”

  “Ooh, yes.”

  In the morning, Reed had their breakfast ready at five. After that, Hampt went by the store and it had the lights on. When he joined them, Rymore told them he had a boy to drive the two-wheel cart out to their camp and it was near loaded. Their horses were at the livery yard next, and they were loaded quickly.

  Chet added a couple of glass jars each of peppermint and licorice sticks. He aimed to use all that as carrots to lead those men. No one had spoiled them lately, so he aimed to start. The peaches and tobacco were going to work for that day.

  Mid-morning, they reached the cow camp and the men were assembled on a slope. Most sat cross-legged on the ground. Some of the crew stood, but Decker assured him they were all there.

  “This be the new man,” he said in a loud, deep voice. “His name is Mister Byrnes. You listens good to him, ’cause we going to be on the move soon.”

  “Good morning.”

  No answer.

  He said it louder, and they replied.

  “My name is Chet. No mister about it. You work hard the next six to eight weeks and you’ll get a bonus. If you don’t, you can start to walk back to Texas. That big man is Hampt Tate, and that cowboy is Cole Emerson. That Mexican is my right arm, Jesus Morales. This lady is my wife, Miss Liz, to everyone. We came from Arizona to get you to Nebraska.

  “These Injuns we may meet will want to kill you. Every man will have a rifle and ammo. If you are threatened, shoot first, ask them questions later. If you can’t shoot an Indian, shoot his horse. We’ll show you how to shoot it. If you shoot another cowboy, you’ll hang before sundown. If you lose that gun, you will pay for it in Nebraska. Am I clear?”

  “Yes!”

  “My men will pass out tobacco and paper next. There are matches, too. Don’t, whatever you do, set the prairie on fire.”

  As his men and the store clerk passed each man who wanted one a pouch of tobacco, paper, and some matches, the talk went on furious among the men. One bare-chested man stood up and waved.

  “Thank God fur you’s, Mr. Byrnes.” A cheer went up.

  Decker, sitting in his folding chair, shook his head. “They’ve been out for weeks. You impressed me a lot already this morning, sir.”

  “Dey going to lick you boots,” Yeager said, and freely laughed for the first time.

  “Listen up, men. We’ll go to having good meals.” He held up his hands to silence them. “But we’re going to work hard, too. We may have to be in the saddle moving cattle for two days to reach the next water. So, sleep when you get a chance. Stay close to camp unless there’s more than two of you. Indians will try to pick you off and get your rifle.

  “I have more good horses coming this week. But be ready to pull out. I have, as a bonus, a can of peaches for each man this morning.”

  The cheers went up again. “File by and pick up one. Hoarders get none.”

  His men gave them out.

  “Then get back to you job!” Decker ordered, then turned to Chet. “I want you to meet my cook next.”

  Three Orientals in silk clothing bowed to him.

  “That’s my cook, No Ling Ling.” A short, angry-faced Chinaman carried a hatchet and wore a que.

  The man bowed. “You got plenty food?”

  “I’ll have it here by tomorrow.”

  “Good thing. Damn near starve here.”

  “You won’t with me.”

  “Good men no work good on empty belly.” He pointed. “That my helper, Du Wang. That my number two helper, Nu Wa Tye.”

  “Glad to meet you all. Food and supplies are coming.”

  “The eight men you asked for are here. They’ve all shot rifles. Maybe not good as yours, but they can shoot,” Decker said.

  “Hampt, you have gun class today. Show those men. Tomorrow, I want ten more new ones. Yeager, you go with him and help them.”

  “Yes, sah.”

  “Cole, you and Jesus look over the horses we have and figure out what we need to do.”

  “What else you need done?” Decker asked.

  “A couple of nice men to put up Liz’s tent and help her organize it.”

  “I can do that,” Jesus offered.

  “No, he has some men who aren’t busy. We need to meet and get acquainted with them.”

  Decker smiled. “You will have them too spoiled to work again.”

  “Good. I treat people right. If they don’t work, I don’t need them.”

  Decker lowered his voice. “You don’t smoke. Your men don’t smoke. I think that tobacco was the best gift of all.”

  “I figured that. They get a pouch a day.”

  Decker shook his head. “I sees why dee boss man done sent you already. But you worried about Injuns, ain’t you?”

  “They have their backs to the wall. I’ve fought Comanche all my life. They kidnapped three of my family members. Today, they are even more desperate. If we don’t have a fight somewhere on the trail, I will be so pleased I’ll pay you a hundred dollars.”

  “You do be concerned. I’ll be more watchful. I ain’t seen none.”

  “Trust me, they’ve seen you and sized you up already.”

  “Aw, heavens, Mr. Chet, that don’t be good news.”

  “You hear them rifles?” He indicated the shots from down range where Yeager and Hampt were holding a gun class.

  “I sure do.”

  “If we get prepared to wage war back at the Indians, these will save us.”

  “Land, lands. Yesterday I wondered how to feed dem. Today, how to save dem.”

  “Lots of things are coming. Get ready.”

  Chet talked to Hampt at noontime. No Ling Ling fed the outfit a mid-day meal for the first time in six weeks. They had been stretching their supply that much, Decker admitted.

  “Those eight were the best shots in camp and knew rifles. I’ll use two of them each day to help me teach the others. It’ll speed up my training. They told me that the men are pleased we’re doing this.”

  “They’d seen Indians, hadn’t they?”

  Hampt nodded. “But I’d fight beside those we had here today anytime. We need more of them that are that efficient with a rifle.”

  “You telling them if they can’t hit an Indian to shoot his horse?”

  “Yeah. That shocked the first guys, but they agreed that an Injun on foot was better than having one on a good horse able to charge at you.”

  “We need them gun-ready in a week. When those horses I ordered get here, and when the chuckwagon’s road ready, we need to head north. I want Yeager to show Cole and Jesus the next water and to begin scouting. That old man they told us about might be a big help, too. If he’s around, Johnny Reed will have him there for supper tonight.”

  Lou James was no young man. He chewed on a corncob pipe and had lots of white whiskers, his southern drawl was d
eep, and he flirted with Liz like a boy.

  “By jeepers, ma’am, how did he ever get you all stirred up in this deal?”

  “He owns a great stallion. You ever hear of the Barbarossa horses?”

  “Yeah. They’re all in Mexico. Big gold horses. Texans call them claybanks. But the word is Palomino, right?”

  “Yes, that is so.” She used her thumb to indicate her husband. “One is across the border in Arizona. He owns him.”

  “Whew. How in the world?”

  “A long story for later,” Chet said, amused at her storytelling. “Go on, Liz.”

  “He didn’t tell you, but he is a U.S. Marshal. He runs the Force that puts down Mexican bandits in southern Arizona. So he headquarters on this ranch down there, and I was going back to Mexico, and my people learn that he is there. So I go there to buy a horse for my hacienda.”

  Lou took his pipe and pointed at Chet. “I see. You came there to buy a horse colt from him.”

  “Yes, just to buy a horse. I get out and this grande hombre is standing there, hatless, waiting for me.”

  “My, my, you talk the best English of any woman from Mexico I ever met, but those English words weren’t good enough for your description of him standing there, were they?” Lou went to laughing. The others did, too.

  Liz about blushed. “Then you know the rest. I had been a widow for three years. I did not need another man in my life.”

  “He never sold you a horse?”

  “No. I had to marry him to get one.”

  “Missy, I can see why he swept you away. You’re a treasure that Mexico lost.”

  “I still have a large hacienda down there, but this man has an empire in Arizona.”

  Lou turned to Chet. “What do you need me for?”

  “Water holes, and your knowledge about the trail to Ogallala.”

  He nodded with a pained face at Chet. “You’re late in the year for finding much water. Been dry this spring, but we usually get some showers in the next two months. You willing to cross over the Kansas line in a place or two, to water them?”

  “I want these cattle in Ogallala in six to eight weeks, in much better condition than they are now. How tough are those Kansas border watchers?”

  “If they don’t get the word you’re coming, there won’t be many out there this time of year. Usually by now, the herds don’t try to go up there. I’ve distracted the watchers before, but if they find me in Kansas you’ll have to bail me out of jail.”

  “No problem. What will you cost?”

  “Two hundred bucks.”

  Chet rose, leaned over, and shook his hand. “You start tomorrow. Welcome to the outfit.”

  “Obliged. This meal ain’t half-bad, either.”

  Chet shook his head. “Your storytelling is worth half the price of hiring you.”

  The others agreed. He was not a rainmaker, but he did know the way and where water should be, if they could find any left.

  “How far are we from Nebraska?” Cole asked.

  “Oh, like the crow flies, three hundred miles.”

  “That’s reachable.” Chet was pleased they’d found the right man.

  Rifle drill began again the next day. Hampt and Yeager worked with a new bunch. No Ling Ling listed things he still needed for Liz, who wrote them down to order.

  Rymore found them the two teams of mules, but they’d never been worked together before. To get them started, Cole and Jesus were going to drive them to town for some needed things and back to camp. Cole drove them, and Jesus rode along on horseback to help him hold them down.

  The store people assured him they could get there, but it took two hours longer than planned. When they did return, the black men came and secured the mules to a hitch rack and the two head-shaking cowboys joined them for lunch. “They’re fresh, I take it?” Chet asked them.

  Cole scowled at him. “They don’t know getup from sic’em.”

  “First they balked,” Jesus said. “The one team would go and the other one backed. Then the harness chains jiggling spooked them. A damn ground owl really spooked them and they ran off. We’ve been to New Mexico and back already.”

  “When Decker gets here, we’ll get him to send us a mule skinner. Black folks know mules. You two are cowboys.”

  They agreed. All were sitting at one table, when Hampt and Decker came to join them. Chet mentioned they needed a mule skinner to drive them.

  “Mott Halter,” Decker said. He stood up and told a man in the food line to send Mott Halter up there.

  In a short while, a big man, who looked like he’d had a fight with a wildcat, came. His clothes were in rags and he took off an old hat he must have found beside the road.

  “What’cha need, Mister Decker?”

  “See them mules?”

  “Yes, sah.”

  “After you eats you meal, I want you to unhook dem and drive dem around.”

  “Oh.” The big man smiled wide as Texas. “I sure nuff kin do dat.”

  “Mott, since you are going to have to drive the wagon back and forth to town,” Liz said, “I have a new pair of overalls and shirt to fit you, so you can represent us better. Eddie, at Rymore’s, will replace your hat, too.”

  “Ma’am, that be so nice of you. I pays you in Nebraska.”

  “No, you just drive them mules. These two cowboys will pay for that, so they don’t have to drive them.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Cole looked up at the hipshot mules and agreed. “Cheap price to sell that job.”

  Jesus agreed.

  After lunch, they unhitched the two teams for Mott, who wore his new clothes. He took the first team in harness and with trace chains hooked up to drive them around.

  To the waiting mules, he said real quiet, “Jack.”

  The mules were stomping around and he had them controlled, but they never heard him say, “Jack,” again. Head shaking, they weren’t listening when Mott said it the third time.

  He drew back the long check line and snapped that right mule in the ribs and hair flew at the point he struck. The mule acted goosed. He held him down. “Jack.”

  The right-hand mule knew that word and he had felt the strike on his side. His head was up and his ears were up. Number two still had not heard him, but Mott overhanded, did the same thing to the second mule, cutting hair with a, “Whoa, Jack.”

  When he clucked to them, they scrambled hooves some, but soon both drove real smooth. In a short time, he had them backing and turning and backing more. The gathered men applauded.

  “He’s a real mule skinner,” Liz said.

  “I bet you could have them cultivating in no time,” Chet said to Mott. “I want you to be the mule man. Pick a helper. Drive them to town tonight, and bring a bedroll. We’ll feed you there. You’ll bring back more supplies tomorrow.”

  Mott shook his head and smiled. “Miss Liz. I sure like dese clothes.”

  She dismissed his gratitude. “No problem. You are sure the mule man.”

  “That don’t make you mad, does it, Jesus?” Cole asked.

  “I told you. I only worked burros and not many of them.”

  “How was rifle training, Hampt?” Chet asked the big man.

  “We taught the best ones yesterday. From here on, we’ve got our work cut out. Yeager is good talking to them, but they don’t know a gun butt from a barrel. My trainers I chose are good, too. But these people we had today, I want back tomorrow.”

  “If we get a real attack, we need them all to be proficient.”

  “I know. Maybe we can do that. Oh, hell, Chet, the U.S. Army trains those dumb Germans to be cavalry troopers and they couldn’t even understand English. I hope I have the time.”

  “Tomorrow, I want Lou and Yeager, along with you two, to ride north, say, sixty miles north, and figure out our first days on the road. Keep in mind there are Indians out here. I want you four back the next night in one piece.”

  Lou agreed that was how to start. Clouds clabbered up the western sky
and thunder rolled from the distance. But they made it back to Tularosa, and he fed Mott and his man on the back steps of the saloon, plus had them served two beers apiece. They slept rolled up in blankets in the livery. Liz found Mott’s new assistant, Horatio Knott, a new pair of overalls, and a shirt, and straw hats for both of them. They were thrilled.

  “Acres sent word he was gathering horses and would have them here in a few days.” Chet thought that would work. Ranchers on the frontier had miles to go to markets. Range horses were plentiful and the ranchers were cash short.

  Cole nodded. “Your gunmen doing better today, Hampt?”

  “They’re learning, and ain’t shot no one yet.”

  “Good thing,” Jesus said. “It might have been you.”

  “I can’t get over yesterday,” Cole said. “I seen men like Mott in Texas do that. White man and colored alike, that could do that. Only a Mexican with a bullwhip could have done what he did with that long rein. That was impressive to me. I’ve seen men cuss and whip on mules, but he was a hand right off.” Cole shook his head in disbelief, but Chet had seen other men do it as smooth.

  “Jack,” Jesus whispered. “They damn sure listened after that.”

  “I’d bet a dollar that man he has to help him is as good,” Chet said.

  They all agreed.

  Later, Liz asked him if he thought she’d done right, clothing them.

  “Better than their butts shining.”

  “Oh, I am being serious.”

  “It’ll be alright. That can’t cost over a dollar a man.”

  “Less than that.”

  “Dress them up. We’re going to Ogallala.”

  “When are the water searchers going north?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow. We’re about caught up.”

  “Going north tomorrow, I sure am going to miss these good meals you been chocking down me,” Lou said when they started to leave. “I see how you built an empire in Arizona.”

  “How is that?”

  “You didn’t tell Decker to get someone to drive them mules, you said get a mule skinner. He got one who knew what to do. These guys Hampt uses to train them know guns. It ain’t, ‘Hey, Joe, do this. Get me the man.’”

  “You be the water man, Lou,” Chet said.

  “In the middle of a damn drought, too.”