Spake As a Dragon

by Larry Edward Hunt

  Stepping back into the warmth inside, he can hear Catherine rattling pans in the kitchen and he can smell the bacon frying, she is preparing breakfast, “Catherine, is Sam up yet?”

  “Up? He’s been up for the last hour – he’s out at the barn getting all the hunting stuff together he’s already carried Father’s old Springfield musket out there. You don’t know how excited that boy is! Thanks, Luke, this is going to be good for Sam, he needs something to take Father and Mother’s death off his mind, even if for a day or so. Tell Sam to take Kentuck, he’s the best of all the Walkers.”

  “Hold on a second Catherine, that snow is deeper than Kentuck is tall. We can’t carry him. Sure you can and these vittles I have fixed for you too also.”

  Catherine explains to Luke the snow melts on sunshine days and at night a thin coating or crust of ice forms on the surface. The sun has shown for the last couple of days she says, so the ice is strong enough for a Walker to get over, but it will not support the weight of a man. She tells Luke he possibly could get a horse through the snow, but it would be a troublesome undertaking. That’s where the snowshoes come in. In addition to the information just provided Catherine offered another bit of caution – she tells Jake to be especially careful of bears. In the early spring, they emerge from their winter hibernation and are out scavenging for anything to eat. She says anything means anything, small animals such as rabbits, squirrels, ‘possums and high up on the food scale is a man! She instructs Luke to travel in the opposite direction from any bear tracks they might find, and stay downwind to keep the creatures from getting a whiff of them. She reemphasized the threat bears present and again warns Luke to their danger. “I’m still mad at you Luke Scarburg, but don’t you go off and get yourself killed!”

  The back door opens quickly, in steps Sam, stomping the snow from his boots, “Come on Luke, let’s get going I got all our gear sittin’ in the hall of the barn, and Kentuck is anxious to get on the trail.”

  “Slowdown Sam, it’s still an hour from sunup, and Catherine has prepared us a fine breakfast. Sit down and eat, we’ll need all our strength to trek across your mountain.”

  THE HUNT

  Each step Luke takes a crunching sound comes from the snowshoe against the frozen snow. When he first heard Sam talk of a method for walking on snow Luke thought this would be a simple task. It is simple all right if he can walk with two tubs tied to his feet. No, it is not easy to get used to walking in such cumbersome footwear, but as the morning drew on it became manageable, not easy, but manageable.

  One thing was sure – Catherine was right, Kentuck easily manages to walk and even run on the top of the snow. Only occasionally would one of his paws break through surface and burrow into the snow below, but obviously this isn’t Kentuck’s first hunt in the snow. He will merely pull his leg out and continue on the scent.

  It is around mid-afternoon, Kentuck has gotten onto a couple of warm trails, but nothing comes of them. Sam stops and waits for Luke to catch up. All day Sam stays at least a hundred yards ahead of Luke – Luke is getting better walking, but he has not graduated to any speed in his snowshoes yet.

  Catching up with Sam he asks, “What’s up? Kentuck strike a new trail?”

  “No, nothing on the hunt, but there’s something down here I want you to see.”

  Sam walks off the slope down into a slight hollow. The hollow is filled with hardwood trees, the majority being American beech. Nearing one of the large beech trees Sam turns to Luke and announces, “Here it is! This is the one!”

  “One what? Sam all I see is a tree.”

  “Come here Luke and see this one beech tree.”

  Luke moves down to the tree, sees nothing and looks at Sam with a questioning stare.

  “Over on this side Luke.”

  Luke moves to the opposite side of the old tree, “Oh, my goodness,” states Luke. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Sam nods his head, and Luke reads the message that had been carved onto the tree many years before:

  D. BOON KILLED

  A BAR O

  THIS TRE

  1775

  Sam begins to tell the story of Daniel Boone and how he blazed the Wilderness Trail across the Cumberland Gap back in the day. He finishes by telling Luke about Mr. John Preston, who now owns this tract of land and how he found this tree some years ago.

  “Thank you Sam! Thank you very much. Seeing this tree was worth every bit of my silly effort trying to walk on these snowshoes.”

  Back upon the slope the sound of Kentucky Lead’s barking indicates to Sam a fresh trail has been found. Enough history for now, they need to get back to the task at hand – hunting.

  “Luke, Kentuck in on a hot trail, but by the looks of these tracks he’s after a bear. Jiminy, if that don’t beat all – we finally got ourselves a bear!”

  “No, Catherine said to high-tail it in the opposite direction if we ran upon bear tracks. She said in the early spring they were quite dangerous.”

  “Aw, shucks Luke, don’t you know wimmen by now. They would be skeered of their own shadows. Wooee! There’s a bear hereabouts. Me and Father always wanted to catch us one of them critters, but we never got a chance. By the direction of them tracks I’d say he is headin’ toward that corncracker’s cabin over on the other side of this ridge.”

  “I thought your father said y’all didn’t have any neighbors? It is only a few miles back to the farm, I’d say this backwoodsman is close enough to quality.”

  “Naw, he’s just a driftin’ prospector named Rufus – lives here and there, mostly there. We ain’t seen him in years, the story goes that about a year after the War started some of them Manure Spreaders showed up one day, he put up a really fine fight. They say he killed two of them Union Calvary boys and, of course, during the shootout they killed him too. His cabin has been empty ever since. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  As Sam talks to Luke, they can hear Kentuck following the scent of the bear. His unusual bark is pushing the bear in the direction of the cabin.

  “All right Luke, you take that lever action of yours and work yourself up and around this ridge, I’ll take my Springfield and go up the holler then we’ll have that ole rascal between us. Bear meat can do us for a long time.”

  “But Sam, what about Catherine and her danger warning about...” Sam is out of sight by now and did not hear a word Luke said.

  Shouldering his Spencer Luke walks back up the slope and begins to follow the bear tracks. He looks like a drunken mule wearing galoshes.

  THE CABIN

  As Sam slips up the creek toward the prospector’s cabin, he knows the cabin is just around the next bend. Off to his left and over the ridge, he can still hear old Kentuck barking his head off. Sam grins he knows his Walker is on the trail of that ole bear.

  The wind is blowing in his face and he catches the slightest whiff of smoke. Smoke? He thinks that the smell is not the woods ablaze, that aroma is more like smoke from a fireplace.

  He slows his gait to a deliberate, easy step, something isn’t right, that cabin is supposed to be empty. Approaching the bend he slowly slips among the trees until he can get a clear view of the old cabin. The first thing he sees is the chimney; indeed a small ribbon of blue smoke is curling out the top. Someone is in there! Three horses, all with double hitched, roping saddles, with lariats hanging at the sides, are tied at the rail. One is a beautiful pinto, white with tan. Obviously the owners of these broncos are not playing soldier with the Yankees.

  Surely, he thinks, it can’t be Rufus. Those Union soldiers have done killed him. He removed the snowshoes and steps slowly through the snow inching his way to the side of the shack. Nearing the cabin he notices Rufus’ burro tied to a tree out back. Slowly he positions himself under a hole in the planking and lifts his head barely enough to see through into the shack.

  He sees three people in the room. One fellow is tied to a chair, his head resting on his chest. His face is beaten almost beyond recogniti
on. Blood is dripping from the corner of his mouth making a sizable puddle on the floor. His left eye is swollen shut. Although the temperature inside cannot much warmer than the temperature outside the man is sweating profusely. Sam examines the man closely, thinking, is that Rufus? He quickly realizes he doesn’t know what Rufus looks like he has never seen him. Whoever this fellow is if this beating keeps up he and his Maker are about to come face to face, and soon. Sam continues to watch.

  Walking around the room are two other men. One is dressed entirely in black, head to toe. One wears a brown ten-gallon Stetson cowboy hat, the other wears a black flat-rimmed hat. To Sam it looks like a cross between a Stetson and a sombrero. The black hat has a hatband made with silver Mexican pesos. Both are dressed in long sleeve shirts, leather vests with six-shooters strapped to their hips. Their holsters are strapped to their legs with narrow strips of rawhide. Gunslingers! The dude with the black hat is wearing a fancy pair of high-heel western style boots. Adorning each boot is expensive Mexican silver spurs, which jingle and jangle as the rowel touches the floor with each step he takes. Sam has heard this rhythmic sound of the spur rowels before, but where? Yes, now he remembered: as he hid in the closet he could hear the man walking that shot his mother and father. The spurs he wore made that same jingling sound.

  The one with the black hat walks up to the man tied to a chair and demands, “I’m telling you for the last time where is that claim with the gold?” He then slaps him hard across the face. Sam has witnessed enough to see the man in black is clearly the one in charge.

  The fellow on the receiving end of all this abuse mumbles something about not knowing what they are talking about. Black hat doesn’t like this answer and smacks him again.

  Brown hat says, “Give me another chance at him, I’ll make him talk.” He walks over to the stove and removes the scalding pot of what must have been coffee at one time. Bringing it closer to the nearly un-conscious man and begins to pour the hot coffee over his head. The scream from the man is horrendous. Sam must make it stop, he must. He drops his eyes from the view of the interior, pulls the hammer back on his Springfield, and is about to advance around the house and confront the two villains.

  Suddenly above his right ear his skin feels the touch of cold metal and the metallic click of a pistol being cocked. “What you looking at boy? Somethin’ inside you dying to see?” The man with the six-shooter says, emphasizing the word ‘dying’, “Now git up! Git yerself around the side of the cabin and git inside. “I’m gonna give yous a close-up look.”

  The cabin door flies open and Sam is shoved inside. “Oh, what have we here?” Ask black hat turning to look at the door.

  “A peeping Tom,” says man number three. “Caught him outside that hole there watching yer fun!”

  The leader tells them to bind Sam to another chair. Once Sam is securely lashed he asks, “So you want to save this here gent, do you? How do you and him relate?” Sam answers that he does not know the other prisoner. He was out on a hunting trip and saw the smoke from the chimney and came to investigate.

  “Hmm,” Says Blackie, “A likely story, I believe you two are in cahoots with each other. You and him are working that gold mine together, right?”

  “Sir, I have never seen this man in my life, but if you keep beating him you are going to kill him, and his death will be on your hands.”

  “Let me explain something to you lad, I don’t know the number of men that I have already killed. One more ain’t gonna make any difference. I’ll kill him, and you too for that matter, like stepping on an ant. You two ain’t nothing, all I want to know - where is the gold mine?” As he finishes, he turns and slugs the old fellow again.

  “Wait mister, wait. Why do you think he knows where the gold mine is?”

  “You see Buck here,” pointing to Mr. Brown Hat. “He was up on the mountain with our gang when a friend of theirs by the name of Old Bill stopped by. He told of finding a gold mine and said he give a map of it to his partner.

  Well ‘fore you know it some low down sneaking skunk pitched a stick of dynamite into the fire. Buck was the onlyest one to run off. Now our friend with the gold mine was kilt along with the rest of the gang, and he never got a chance to tell Buck and the boys where the mine was or who he done give the map too.

  I was waiting at the Gap fer the boys to ride back in, but Buck was the onlyest one that got back. We knowed about this here cabin and this old prospector coot and figured he was Old Bill’s partner, but he ain’t talking. He’s prouder of that mine than he is of his life.” Looking at Sam, “Maybe you’re not?”

  “Look mister, this old man, well Rufus is his name, doesn’t know anything about a mine. He’s been prospecting all his life, you think if he had struck it rich he would still be livin’ up here in these mountains. No sir’ree, he’d be in Knoxville havin’ himself a big time.”

  “Makes sense boy, you mean,” winking at the others, “wasting his money on drinking whiskey, gambling and chasing wimmen. Wait, maybe you and him haven’t had time to do much minin’ with all this snow and all – yeah that’s it, he’s trying to save it all for hisself.” Turning to Rufus, he draws back his fist to strikes him again.

  “Hold on there mister, you’re right, Rufus is my uncle. I lied, I thought I could work out a deal with you, but I see there is no use. Please stop beating him to death and I’ll talk.”

  “You mean you are related to this old coot and he shared the mine with you?”

  “Well, I just happened to be out hunting that day and ran upon Rufus at the creek when he discovered a vein of gold.”

  “You’d just say that to save you and your uncle’s worthless hides.”

  “Naw, its real,” Untie my hands and I can prove it to you. Blackie instructed only one of Sam’s hand be loosened.

  With his free hand Sam reached into his pocket and withdrew the large gold nugget and handed it to ‘Blackie.’ The three outlaws gawk and eye the yellow hunk of metal. One says he has never seen such a large piece of gold. Another dreamily tells of the wimmen and liquor he can buy, the other speaks of goin’ to Cal-i-forn-nee-a. “Shut up, both of you. This is just one piece of gold. There must be lots more where this’en come from. That old man ain’t gonna tell us nothin’, put him out of his misery, and then we’ll git the information from our new partner here, right kid?”

  Buck pulls his Colt from its holster and walks over to Rufus. Rufus is un-conscious or maybe already dead, but Sam is not going to let Buck just shoot him, “Wait, wait don’t kill Rufus! If you swear not to harm us anymore, I will tell you where you can find the mine.”

  The three outlaws huddle together in the far corner of the room whispering Buck says to ‘Blackie,’ “Yer not buying that tale are you? Let’s just shoot them both and git out of here. They don’t know nothin’”

  “Hold on there Buck. What if the kid is right, we might be passing up a great opportunity. You know he got that nugget sommers.”

  “We ain’t partnering up with them, are we?”

  “Naw, of course not. Let’s just play the hand out then we’ll kill’em both.”

  “Okay kid,” said ‘Blackie,’ walking over to Sam. “We’ve decided, all you’ve got to do is tell us where the gold is. And we’re not going to kill you if fact we’re gonna let you two be on your way.”

  “Now,” said Sam, “you swear you’re making a double-dare promise?”

  “Oh, I swear it on my dear old mother’s grave.” One of the bandits looked at the other and winked, they knew ‘Blackie’s’ Ma was still alive.

  “All right then, look in the lining of my hat.”

  ‘Blackie’ pulls Sam’s hat from his head, turns in inside out and feels a piece of paper. He pulls it out, its a map, he lays it on the table and begins to study all its details.

  Once he confirms to his satisfaction the map is real he turns to his two compadres, “Kill’em both!”

  “No wait!” says Sam. “You double-dared promised.”

  “Th
ere is no honor among thieves, you know that kid, I lied.” Looking at Buck and the other outlaw, “Git on with it! Kill them both!”

  As the two remove their six-guns from their holsters and begin to aim, Buck is going to kill Sam and the other buckaroo is going to shoot Rufus. They pull the hammers back on their pistols just as the front door is kicked open. In charges Luke with the Spencer belching .56 caliber lead bullets as fast as he can fire them. Within seconds, the three outlaws lie dead on the floor.

  “Are they dead?” asks Sam.

  “Dunno,” Luke said as he fired one more bullet into each body. “I believe they are now.”

  Luke unties Sam who has tears streaming down his face. Luke did not know if the tears are from happiness of being saved or from the nearness he came to death, regardless, Sam hugs Luke and runs to Rufus and begins to untie the ropes that bind him. Luke stops him, “Forget it Sam, he is dead!”

  Sam walks across the smoke filled room and removes the gold map from ‘Blackie’s’ clenched hand, and the gold nugget from his vest pocket, “Just had to do it Luke, just had too. I couldn’t sit and watch them kill Rufus. Let them kill him for a gold mine, who would do such a thing?”

  “Not you, that’s for sure,” said Luke. “Go through their pockets and pull out any papers that might identify who they were.

  “Come on Sam, that’s enough excitement for one day let’s go home,” Luke said as he re-loaded cartridges into his rifle. Sam picks up his Springfield and opens the cabin door to head home.

  Luke was wrong! Their day of excitement was about to continue; for standing at the door growling was a mammoth 400 pound black bear. He was at least 7 or 8 feet tall, with teeth showing that were at least two inches long and it has a very ravenous look in it’s eyes and doesn’t at all seem friendly. “Run”, says Sam.