Warpath (The Landon Saga Book 8)

by Tell Cotten

  “Thanks,” Winchester said, and he took several long swallows.

  “We headed in the right direction?” Lee asked.

  Winchester nodded and gestured.

  “See that split in the mountains? That’s the pass.”

  Lee nodded thoughtfully as he squinted ahead.

  “It’s a long ways, but we should reach the foothills before dark,” Winchester said.

  “Should, long as the horses don’t play out,” Lee agreed.

  “We’ll make it.”

  Lee nodded again, and it was silent for a moment.

  “You really think we can catch those Apaches?” Lee finally asked.

  “Normally, I’d say no,” Winchester replied matter-of-factly. “But, the way this bunch is acting, mebbe. Most Apaches would ride up into the mountains, cover their tracks, and be gone. But, this bunch almost acts like they want to be found. Mebbe they’re eager for more blood.”

  “Meaning ours?”

  “You said it.”

  Lee frowned at that but didn’t reply.

  Several seconds passed, and Winchester glanced at Lee and changed the subject.

  “I already know about Rachel,” he said, and asked, “What about the other one? What’s her name?”

  “April.”

  “Yeah. Who does she belong to?”

  A wistful look crossed Lee’s face.

  “Nobody, I reckon.”

  “But, you have feelings for her,” Winchester guessed.

  “I do.”

  “How ’bout him,” Winchester jabbed a thumb in Jeremiah’s direction. “Is he a brother or something?”

  “Not hardly,” Lee muttered. He hesitated, and said, “He has feelings for her too.”

  “Same sorta feelings you have?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Winchester glanced at Jeremiah, and then at Lee.

  “Oh boy,” he said.

  “You said it,” Lee smiled.

  Chapter forty

  Midmorning found Yancy and Cooper several miles down the trail.

  Yancy was irritated. Their pace had been slow, mainly because they’d been stopping every mile or so.

  Cooper had a spyglass, and each time they halted he had carefully scanned the landscape. So far, all he’d seen was flat, desert terrain, jumping with heat waves.

  “No hill?” Yancy asked after their latest stop.

  “Not yet,” Cooper shook his head.

  “It would have been helpful if Winchester had mentioned how far this hill was.”

  “A small, forgotten detail.”

  Yancy grunted and said, “I hope he didn’t forget to mention anything else.”

  “If he did, I have a feeling we’ll find out,” Cooper replied. “And soon.”

  Yancy grunted again while Cooper put away his eyeglass, and they trotted on. Cooper rode in front, and Yancy followed, leading No-see-ums.

  “Been thinking,” Yancy commented after a few minutes.

  “You usually do,” Cooper replied, and asked, “What about this time?”

  “No Worries. It sure is peculiar that he’s the one leading this raid.”

  “And you don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Not like this.”

  Cooper pinched his face in thought.

  “After what you did to him, No Worries probably doesn’t like us much,” he said.

  “How’s that?”

  “It’d be embarrassing, getting whopped on the head in your own tepee,” Cooper explained. “Just imagine, a great war chief like him, trying to explain what happened.”

  “It must have been difficult for him.”

  “I’m sure,” Cooper couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “And, before that, we left him six crates of useless rifles,” Yancy recalled.

  Cooper nodded and said, “I reckon we’ve earned the right to be disliked.”

  “At least a little.”

  “You think he did this to get even?” Cooper assumed.

  “It’s sure possible.”

  “How’d he know who we were?” Cooper objected.

  “Somebody must’ve told him.”

  “How’d that happen?” Cooper raised an eyebrow. “You don’t suppose he rode into the nearest town and asked somebody, real nice like?”

  “No,” Yancy scowled.

  “Well then?”

  “No Worries trades a lot,” Yancy reminded. “Some Injun trader could have told him.”

  A thoughtful look crossed Cooper’s face.

  “That’s actually possible,” he admitted.

  “And,” Yancy continued, “instead of telling No Worries where we lived, he told him where Rondo lived.”

  “Be an easy mistake,” Cooper said.

  Yancy nodded, and several seconds passed as they thought on that.

  “We could be wrong,” Cooper finally said.

  “Could be.”

  “But, you don’t think we are.”

  “I don’t.”

  “So, what are we going to do about it?”

  “Ruin his plans, and get Rachel and April back,” Yancy declared.

  “Then what?”

  “Right now, I’d settle for that.”

  Cooper nodded thoughtfully but didn’t reply.

  There was a small cluster of trees ahead. They rode up amongst them, and Cooper pulled up. Yancy came up beside him while he pulled out his eyeglass.

  He squinted through it and slowly scanned the landscape. Suddenly, he set up straight in the saddle and gave a little grunt.

  “Do you see a hill?” Yancy asked hopefully.

  “I sure do.”

  “How far?”

  “Hard to say. Several miles, anyway.”

  “See any Injuns?”

  “Nope,” Cooper replied. “But, it’s brushy. Especially at the top.”

  “Must be it then.”

  Cooper lowered the eyeglass and nodded.

  “I’d say so,” he agreed.

  “Any chance they could see us?”

  “I doubt it, unless they have a spyglass stronger than mine.”

  “Well,” Yancy looked thoughtful. “We’d best not ride any closer until we figure out what to do.”

  Cooper nodded again, and it was silent as they thought on the task at hand.

  “Got any ideas?” Cooper asked.

  “Well, I figure we should kill them before they kill us.”

  Cooper smiled faintly and said, “I don’t reckon they’d want to surrender.”

  “You could ask, if you want.”

  “If I only spoke Apache-,” Cooper’s voice trailed off.

  “Well, so much for that,” Yancy replied, and said, “That means we’ll have to kill them.”

  “Seems harsh,” Cooper said distastefully.

  “No way around it.”

  “Reckon not,” Cooper agreed. A few moments passed, and he commented, “There’s some that would object to this method of treatment.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Fellers back east,” Cooper explained. “They feel sorry for the Injuns. Claim they’re getting a raw deal.”

  Yancy grunted at that.

  “That’s ’cause they’ve never been shot at by one.”

  “That does tend to change a feller’s mind,” Cooper agreed.

  “And in a hurry,” Yancy added.

  Chapter forty-one

  To save their horses’ strength, Winchester slowed their pace that afternoon. The hot sun bore down unmercifully, and man and horse were both drenched with sweat.

  The flat ground gave way to small hills as they neared the mountains, and it became rougher. There were also a few trees and some grass.

  Not far from here was where Winchester’s horse had gone down, and he looked wistful as he yearned for his saddle.

  “Hot,” Brian commented as they trotted along.

  “Sure is,” Lee agreed.

  “Sticky as it is, you’d think it was going to rain,” Rondo spoke up.


  “Not likely,” Winchester turned and looked back at everyone. “Doesn’t rain much around these parts.”

  “I sorta guessed that,” Lee said as he glanced at the dry, cracked ground.

  Another hour passed, and they rode up to a dry gully. The walls were steep, and it looked sandy in the bottom.

  “It’s a mite rough traveling, but this draw goes all the way to the backside of that pass,” Winchester announced. “Be a good spot to leave our horses.”

  “Are those walls climbable?” Rondo asked as he looked down.

  “It’s doable,” Winchester replied. “It’s not as steep a mile or two back to the east, but we ain’t got the time to go back.”

  Everybody nodded, and Winchester slapped Jug-head on the rump, forcing him down the crumbling bank.

  It was a steep descent, and Jug-head’s rump almost touched the ground as they slid down.

  Suddenly, Jug-head’s front legs crumpled.

  Winchester felt the mule falling, and he leaped spryly from his back. He landed on his feet and ran to escape being pinned.

  Dust boiled as Jug-head rolled downwards, and he landed with a thump. A few seconds passed, and he struggled to his feet.

  “Are you all right?” Rondo called down.

  Winchester appeared from the boiling dust. He had lost his hat, and sand clung to the sweat on his face.

  “I’m fine, but Jug-head ain’t,” he replied sourly.

  “Did he break a leg?”

  “No, he’s just crippled.”

  “We’ll be right down,” Lee said.

  “Good luck.”

  Lee glanced at everybody, and muttered, “Well, here goes.”

  He encouraged his horse forward, but the horse balked in protest. Lee frowned and raked his spurs along the horse’s sides. This startled the horse, and he leaped involuntarily. Before he could stop, they were sliding downhill. They finally reached the bottom, and the horse staggered upright and took a few trembling steps.

  “I made it!” Lee yelled up above.

  Nobody else had any problems either, and they gathered around Winchester as he examined Jug-head.

  Already, Jug-head’s ankle was swelling. Winchester made him take a few steps, but he could barely put any weight on it.

  “Well, he’s done for,” Winchester said, disappointment in his voice.

  “You can ride double with me,” Rondo offered.

  “We aren’t too far from that pass,” Winchester replied. “I’ll walk.”

  “What about Jug-head?” Rondo asked.

  “Reckon I’ll turn him loose. Tough as he is, he might make it.”

  Nobody had any better suggestion, so Winchester took the bridle off and gave Jug-head a slap on the rump.

  “Good luck, mule,” he said.

  Jug-head seemed to understand, and he limped slowly down the gully, head down, headed east.

  Everybody watched the mule a moment, and then Winchester walked over and grabbed his hat. He put it on and turned towards the mountains.

  He held his rifle in one hand, and he slung his bridle over his shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” he said, and he took off in a broken, relentless trot.

  Chapter forty-two

  “Only two options I can come up with,” Yancy announced.

  They were still a-horseback, in amongst the trees.

  “Glad to know we have choices,” Cooper replied. “What are they?”

  “The less strategic thing to do would be to charge that hill and start shooting.”

  “Not much strategy in that,” Cooper agreed.

  “However,” Yancy continued. “It’s possible that one of them might jump on his pony and take out as soon as we’re spotted.”

  “Can’t let that happen,” Cooper shook his head.

  “That leaves us with the second option.”

  “Hope it’s better than the first one.”

  “We wait until dark,” Yancy said as he ignored Cooper’s comment. “We leave our horses here, circle around on foot, sneak up behind them, and attack at dawn. ’Course, being on foot, we’ll either kill them, or they’ll kill us.”

  “I’d rather it be them.”

  “We agree on that.”

  “Lot could go wrong,” Cooper reasoned. “Apaches are hard to sneak up on.”

  “I figured I’d leave my spurs here,” Yancy offered.

  “That’s mighty considerate,” Cooper said, and added, “You need moccasins. They’re a lot quieter.”

  “I could wear one of yours.”

  Cooper grunted at that but didn’t reply.

  “So, you think we can pull this off?” Yancy asked.

  “Without getting killed?”

  “Might as well.”

  “Sure,” Cooper said. “We’ll just slip in there like a bar of soap, all slippery like.”

  Yancy turned in the saddle, looked at Cooper, and raised an eyebrow.

  “Bar of soap?”

  “I read it in a dime novel,” Cooper explained with a sheepish grin.

  “Didn’t know you read dime novels.”

  “Wyatt and I’ve been reading them in the evenings. It’s something we do together.”

  Yancy didn’t reply for a moment.

  Then he said, “Now I know why Wyatt spends a lot of time out at Tussle’s ranch.”

  Cooper scowled, but didn’t say anything.

  Chapter forty-three

  Even though he was on foot, Winchester still managed to set a brisk pace. He had remarkable endurance, and he never broke stride.

  The gully narrowed as they neared the mountains. In some places, it was barely wide enough for a horse to squeeze through.

  The walls were reddish clay, and several twisted, gnarled mesquites somehow managed to hang onto the sides.

  Some of the roots were exposed where running water had washed away the soil, and Rondo gestured at that.

  “Has to rain sometime,” he said.

  Lee nodded his agreement as he studied the eroded walls.

  “I bet this little gully can flood in a hurry,” he said. “Probably catches a lot of run off from the mountains.”

  “Looks like,” Rondo agreed.

  They reached the end of the draw right before dark. It mushroomed out, resembling a bowl, and made a natural corral for the horses.

  “We’ll take a short breather,” Winchester announced. “From here, we go on foot.”

  Everybody dismounted, pulled out their rifles, and tended to their horses. After that, they grabbed their canteens and took several swigs.

  Rondo rummaged through his saddlebags and found his moccasins. He pulled his boots off and slipped them on. They were a bit stiff, but they felt good.

  Winchester looked slightly amused as he watched him. They were a short distance from the others, so he lowered his voice.

  “Wear moccasins much?” He asked.

  “Only when I’m traveling on foot,” Rondo replied.

  “Did Ben Kinrich teach you that?”

  “Actually, Cooper did.”

  Winchester nodded. A few seconds passed, and he asked, “Spend much time with Yancy and Cooper?”

  “Some. Especially these past few years.”

  “You get along?”

  “Mostly.”

  Winchester nodded again, and said, “Yancy’s never cared much for me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “When we were younger, he hardly ever talked to me. And, the few times he did, I could always hear disapproval in his voice. Reminded me of my mother.”

  “Silence is Yancy’s natural element,” Rondo replied. “He only talks when he has something to say.”

  “Well, he always did have the personality of a wet mop,” Winchester recalled. “Everything was a struggle for him, and he took things too personal.”

  “Still does,” Rondo said.

  “Not me. I enjoy life.”

  “Yancy does too,” Rondo argued. “Just in a different way.”


  Winchester grunted at that and looked up at the sky.

  “Well, time to move along,” he announced, and he and Rondo joined the others.

  “Bring your ropes,” Winchester told everyone.

  “What for?” Lee asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  Lee frowned at that, but he didn’t reply as everybody pulled their ropes off their saddle.

  Winchester turned and went down the gully a ways. He looked thoughtful as he searched for a spot to climb out, and everyone followed.

  Chapter forty-four

  To not move can be the hardest part, and Cooper and Yancy grew restless while they waited for darkness.

  They tied their horses in amongst the trees, and then they sat on a downed tree trunk.

  While they sat there, they noticed clouds forming over the mountains. They were fast building, and it wasn’t long until thunderheads began boiling up.

  “What do you make of that?” Cooper gestured.

  “Looks like it might rain,” Yancy observed. “Especially in the mountains.”

  “Sure does,” Cooper agreed. He thought on that, and added, “Don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  “Might be good,” Yancy figured. “Those Injuns will be less watchful in a downpour.”

  “Worked for us,” Cooper recalled.

  “Sure did.”

  Cooper grinned as he recalled Lee’s words.

  “Who says you can’t count on a thunderstorm,” he said.

  “Could miss us,” Yancy warned.

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think it will,” Cooper replied as he studied the sky.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Cooper nodded, and it was quiet for a bit.

  A half hour passed, and the sun disappeared behind the clouds.

  “Well, looks like a pleasant evening shaping up,” Cooper commented wryly.

  “Nothing like a stroll in the rain,” Yancy added.

  Cooper smiled.

  “You ready?”

  “Ready as I’m going to be.”

  Cooper nodded and stood. He walked over to his horse, rummaged through his saddlebags, and pulled out his moccasins.

  Yancy was a bit envious as he watched Cooper slip them on. He made the decision to make his own pair, just as soon as he could.