Rampage of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  “Good. That means that if you do everything I tell you to do, we’ll get along just real good. Now, where do I find these cows?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mike was riding nighthawk when he heard the sound of hooves, not a restless shuffling of cows repositioning themselves in the night, but a steady clack of hooves on rock. Since the herd was at a halt, he looked around to discover the source of the sound. Then, in the moonlight, he saw a long dark line, ragged with heads and horns, moving away from the main herd.

  At first, he wasn’t sure of exactly what was going on; then, all at once, he realized what was happening. These cattle weren’t merely wandering away; they were being taken away.

  “Billy!” he shouted to the man who was riding nighthawk with him. “Look out! We got rustlers! Call the others!”

  Billy was closer to the main camp than Mike, and he shouted back toward the chuck wagon where the others were sleeping.

  “Smoke! Pearlie! Cal! Turn out! We got rustlers!”

  Billy’s shout not only awakened Smoke and the others, it also alerted the thieves to the fact that they had been spotted. Instantly thereafter, one of them fired a shot at the sound of Billy’s voice. Billy saw the muzzle flash, then heard the bullet whiz by, amazingly close for a wild shot in the dark.

  Billy shot back, and the crack of the guns right over the head of the stolen cows started them running. By now, rapid and sustained gunfire was coming from the camp itself as Smoke and the others rolled out of their blankets and began shooting. Sally was standing in the wagon, firing a rifle, adding her own effort to the fight.

  Billy put his pistol away and raised his rifle. He aimed toward the dust and the swirling melee of cattle, waiting for one of the robbers to present a target. One horse appeared, but its saddle was empty. Then another horse appeared, this time with a rider who was shooting wildly.

  Billy fired and the robber’s horse broke stride, then fell, carrying his rider down with him, right in front of the running cattle. Downed horse and rider disappeared under the hooves of the maddened beasts.

  So far, only the cattle that had been stolen were running. The main herd, though made restless by the flashes and explosions in the night, milled around, but resisted running.

  Cal appeared alongside Billy then, having mounted more quickly than any of the others.

  “Are the others coming?” Billy asked.

  “Yes, they’re right behind me,” Cal replied. He pointed toward the running cattle. “Come on, let’s get our cows back!”

  By now Smoke, Pearlie, and Andy had joined them, and they spurred their horses into a gallop toward the fleeing cows. Within minutes they were riding alongside the running, lumbering animals.

  “We’ve got to get to the front!” Smoke called.

  Billy nodded, but didn’t answer.

  The cows were running as fast as they could run, which was about three quarters of the speed of the horses. But what the cattle lacked in speed, they made up for with their momentum. With lowered heads, wild eyes, and flopping tongues, the cattle ran as if there were no tomorrow.

  Finally, Smoke reached the head of the column, rode to the front, and was able to turn them. Once the cows were turned, they lost their forward momentum, slowed their running to a trot, and finally to a walk. When that happened, the riders were able to turn them and start them back.

  “What happened to the rustlers?” Pearlie asked.

  “One of ’em went down,” Billy said. “The others must’ve run away.”

  Suddenly they heard shots from back at the camp.

  “What’s that?” Mike asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Damn!” Smoke said. “These cows were just a diversion! They’re after the entire herd!”

  Sally, Jules, and Hank were firing as fast as they could operate the levers of their rifles.

  “Lord!” Hank said. “There’s got to be at least twenty of them. Where did they all…uhnnn!”

  Grabbing his chest, Hank went down.

  “Hank!” Jules shouted. He knelt beside his friend and put his hand on Hank’s face. “Hank!”

  Hank made no response.

  “Miz Sally, Hank’s been hit!” Jules called.

  “Get up here, Jules,” Sally called back to him. “Get up here in the wagon!”

  “But Hank! I can’t leave him!” Jules shouted.

  Looking down toward the young cowboy, Sally could tell by the way Hank was spread-eagled on the ground that he was dead.

  “Never mind Hank, it’s too late for him,” Sally said. Even as she was calling out to him, she was sighting down the barrel of her rifle. She pulled the trigger, the rifle kicked back against her shoulder, and she saw the outlaw in her sights go down.

  With one final look at Hank to confirm that he really was dead, Jules dashed across the open area toward the wagon.

  Sally saw one of the rustlers taking aim at Jules, and quickly jacking a shell into the chamber, she snapped a shot toward him. She missed, but she did keep him from shooting at Jules.

  Jules scrambled up over the side and down into the wagon.

  “Are you all right?” Sally called.

  “Yes, ma’am, I ain’t been hit none,” Jules responded.

  A bullet slammed into one of the bow frames of the wagon, then whistled off into the night, a darkened missile of death.

  “Get up here and start shooting,” Sally ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  For the next thirty seconds, Sally and Jules exchanged shots with the rustlers.

  “Where’d all these folks come from?” Jules asked. “I thought Smoke was chasin’ ’em down.”

  “That’s what they wanted to happen,” Sally replied. “They wanted to pull away all the men so they could waltz right in and take the cattle.”

  Sally punctuated her remarks with another shot from her rifle.

  “Really?” Jules said, laughing. “Well, they sure made a mistake thinkin’ that if all the men was gone they could just waltz in here.”

  Sally laughed as well. “You may be young, Jules Sanders, but if you can laugh at a time like this, you are a man in my book.”

  “Why, thank you, Miz Sally,” Jules said as he fired at the rustlers.

  “Staley, we’ve lost three men already,” one of Staley’s riders said.

  “All right, Cord, break off the fight,” Staley said. “Start moving the cows out.”

  “With them shootin’ at us?”

  “They’re in a wagon,” Staley said. “You think they’re goin’ to be able to run us down in a wagon?”

  Cord laughed. “No.”

  “Then do like I said and start movin’ out them cows before the others come back.”

  “Where did they go?” Jules asked, lowering his rifle and staring through the gun smoke out into the darkness. “I don’t see any of them.”

  “I don’t either,” Sally said.

  “Hoo boy, we must’a run ’em off!” Jules said excitedly.

  Sally shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I think they have something else…the cows!” she suddenly said.

  “What?”

  “They’re going after the herd!”

  “What’ll we do?”

  Before Sally could answer, they heard the report of several gunshots from the darkness.

  Sally smiled. “We don’t have to do anything,” she said. “Smoke’s back!”

  From their position in the chuck wagon, they couldn’t actually see what was going on, but they could see the muzzle flashes in the night, and they could hear the reports of the guns being fired.

  “I wish I was out there,” Jules said. “I feel like I ain’t doin’ my part.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Sally said. “If you hadn’t been here to hold them down for a while, they would already have the herd and be gone.”

  Jules smiled. “Yeah, that’s right, ain’t it? We held them down here until Smoke could get back.”

  The sound of the hoofbeats of the
galloping horses spread its thunder over the valley. As Smoke led his men back to the herd, he saw the cattle rustlers moving into position to steal the herd. Pearlie saw it too.

  “They’re takin’ the cows!” Pearlie shouted.

  “Like hell they are,” Smoke replied, firing the first shot.

  The rustlers, surprised by the fact that someone was in front of them, returned fire. Bullets whistled back and forth in the dark; then, one of Smoke’s men cried out.

  “I’m hit!”

  Looking around, Smoke saw that it was Andy. Andy weaved back and forth in the saddle, then grabbed hold of the saddle horn to keep from falling.

  “Mike, see to him!” Smoke called.

  “Hold on, Andy, I’m comin’!” Mike called, riding toward the stricken cowboy.

  Even as Mike was moving toward Andy, Smoke shot at another one of the rustlers, a stocky, powerfully built man. As the man tumbled from his saddle he lost his hat, and Smoke could see that he was bald.

  “Damn, they got Staley!” Cord called.

  “We’re outnumbered now,” one of the other outlaws said. “I’m gettin’ out of here!”

  “I’m leavin’ too,” another said.

  Cord watched the two men leave, then saw that only he and one other man remained.

  “Let’s go!” Cord shouted.

  “What about Staley?”

  “To hell with him!”

  “Should we go after ’em, Smoke?” Pearlie called.

  “No,” Smoke said. “We need to get the herd back together. And we need to see to Andy. Anyone else hit?”

  A quick appraisal of their situation showed that only Andy had been shot. Smoke hurried over to the young cowboy, who was now lying on the ground beside his horse. Mike was squatting down beside him.

  “How bad is it?” Smoke asked.

  “He’s hurt bad,” Mike replied. “We need to get him in to a doctor.”

  “Hrmmph,” Andy said in a disapproving growl. “We both know there ain’t nothin’ a doctor could do for me, even if you could get me there in time. Which you can’t.”

  “We’ll get you back to the wagon,” Smoke said. “Sally is about as good on patching up gunshot wounds as any doctor. Lord knows, she’s patched me up a few times.”

  “I ain’t goin’ to make it, Smoke,” Andy said. “There’s no sense in you tryin’ to fool me none.”

  Smoke sighed, then nodded. “I won’t lie to you, Andy. You’re hit hard.”

  Andy chuckled.

  “What the hell you findin’ to laugh about, Andy?” Billy asked.

  “I owed Dooley ten dollars,” Andy said. “I figured when he died I wouldn’t have to pay it. Don’t you know now that the first thing ole’ Dooley is goin’ to do when he sees me is hold out his hand for that money.”

  Despite the seriousness of Andy’s wound, both Billy and Mike laughed. Smoke laughed as well.

  “Boys, I’ll tell you somethin’ maybe you didn’t know,” Andy said. “This here dyin’ ain’t hurtin’ me none a’tall.”

  Andy gasped a few more breaths, then stopped breathing.

  “All right, boys, get him up on his horse. Mike, you take him back to the wagon. Pearlie, Cal, Billy, let’s take care of the cows.”

  It was nearly dawn by the time all the cows that had been run off were back with the herd.

  “What are we goin’ to do now, Smoke?” Pearlie asked. “Them cows is near dead they’re so tired. We goin’ to have to give ’em a little break.”

  “We’ll stay here twenty-four hours,” Smoke said. “We could use a rest too. And it’ll give us time to get Andy buried.”

  “And Hank,” Jules said, coming up to join them.

  “Hank too?”

  Jules nodded. “Yes, sir, me ’n Mike got ’em both lyin’ under canvas back at the wagon. Oh, and Miz Sally say’s she’s near ’bout got breakfast ready.”

  “Good, I’ve done worked up an appetite,” Pearlie said.

  “Miz Sally was a regular hellion, shootin’ the bad guys with one hand and cookin’ breakfast with the other.”

  “What?” Billy asked, shocked by the revelation. “You mean to tell me Miz Sally was fixin’ breakfast and shootin’ the bad guys all at the same time?”

  “Well, maybe not for real,” Jules agreed. “But she almost was. You should see her when she’s got her dander up, Smoke,” Jules said.

  Smoke chuckled. “I have seen her, Jules,” he said. “Believe me, I have seen her.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The corpses of Hank and Andy were dressed in their best shirts as they lay side by side on the canvas that had been spread out alongside the two graves that had been dug for them. The cowboys had put on their best shirts as well for the impromptu funeral that Smoke was about to conduct.

  “Are the others taken care of?” Smoke asked Pearlie. He was referring to the outlaws who had lost their lives in the failed attempt at cattle rustling.

  “They’re took care of,” Pearlie said. “We found a draw that was big enough to hold them. The sides of the draw was real soft and it was easy enough to just drop the bodies into the hole and push all the dirt in. They’re buried, all six of ’em.”

  “Did you recognize any of them?”

  “No,” Pearlie answered. “We pretty near figured out which one is the leader, though. Was the leader, I mean, seein’ as he’s as dead as the others.”

  “Are you talking about the stocky bald-headed one?” Smoke asked.

  “Yeah,” Pearlie answered. “How’d you know that?”

  “After he went down, the fight seemed to go out of all the others,” Smoke said.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much the way I noticed it too.”

  “Smoke, are you goin’ to say a few words for Hank and Andy?” Sally asked.

  Smoke nodded and the men took off their hats, then stood, holding their hats in front of them.

  Smoke cleared his throat.

  “Lord, I don’t have to tell you that I’m not much for prayin’,” he said. “But I figure that when I’m prayin’ for someone else, you’ll more than likely listen, even to someone like me.

  “I don’t know much about what kind of life these two boys lived before they joined us on this drive. But on this drive they were good men. They rode nighthawk without complaining, their partners could always count on them to be wherever they were supposed to be on time, and they died with courage and honor.

  “Lord, all the preachers tell us that you have a special place for men like these two we’re sendin’ you today. I want you to welcome them there. Go easy on them, Lord. They’ve been through blizzards, drought, Indian raids, and rustlers. I know you’ve got some good men with you up there, Lord. Well, sir, here are two more.

  “Amen.”

  “Amen,” the others said.

  The men put their hats back on. Then Cal cleared his throat and looked at Mike and Billy.

  “Better get your old shirts back on,” he said. “We need to get these boys in the ground.”

  “All right,” Billy said.

  “Jules, you come with me, we need to get us a good count of how many cows we got left,” Pearlie said.

  “Yes, sir,” Jules replied, starting toward his horse.

  Smoke watched Jules and Pearlie ride away. Then he turned his attention to the bodies of Hank and Andy. Sally sewed the canvas covers closed around the two bodies; then, gently, Billy, Mike, and Cal, using ropes, lowered Hank and Andy into their graves. Smoke watched until the graves were closed, leaving two fresh mounds of dirt.

  Sally scattered a few pieces of brightly colored glass over the two mounds.

  “I broke this glass a few days ago,” Sally said. “I intended to throw it away, I don’t know why I kept it, but now I’m glad I did. It’s not as nice as putting flowers on their graves, but it does add a little color.”

  “It’s nice,” Smoke said without elaboration.

  With the funeral over, the others began drifting away. Sally had something that need
ed her attention and, for some time, Smoke was alone. He walked over to stand over the two graves. Finally, he saw Pearlie and Jules returning to the camp. Swinging down from his horse, Pearlie gave the reins of his horse to Jules, then walked over to give the report to Smoke.

  “We got a good count, Smoke,” Pearlie said. “We’ve still got a little over twenty-nine hundred. That means that on this whole drive, we’ve lost less than a hundred cows.”

  “And four good men,” Smoke added, looking at the side-by-side graves where Hank and Andy lay buried. He was referring also to Dooley and LeRoy, who were buried on the trail behind them.

  “Yeah,” Pearlie agreed. “They were four good men, all right.”

  “I’d trade every cow in the herd for them,” Smoke said.

  “Things like this happen, Smoke,” Pearlie said. “You know this better’n anyone.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Smoke said as he stroked his jaw. “Things like this happen.”

  Smoke walked over to the fire and poured himself a cup of coffee. He had just taken a swallow when Sally came up to him with her own cup. Seeing her, Smoke reached for the pot and poured her a cup as well.

  “Are you all right?” Sally asked.

  “I wish you hadn’t come,” Smoke said, making no reference to Sally’s comment.

  “Why?”

  Smoke sighed. “A lot has happened.”

  “Smoke, I’m not made of sugar and spice and everything nice,” she said, quoting the old nursery rhyme.

  Smoke chuckled. “Well, I’ll second the ‘you aren’t very nice’ part,” he said.

  “What? Why, Smoke Jensen!” Sally gasped. “Are you saying I’m not nice?”

  “No, I’m just saying that, sometimes, you can be a little difficult.”

  Sally made as if to throw her coffee on him. “Why, if I weren’t nice, I’d throw this scalding cup on you right now,” she said, laughing.

  “Nah, that’s not what’s stopping you,” Smoke said, laughing with her. “You just don’t want to waste the coffee, that’s all.”

  “You found me out,” Sally teased, laughing some more. “You didn’t answer me,” she added.