Warpath of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

After they finished supper, the men sat around the fire. Cal and Pearlie and Smoke made cigarettes while Bear Tooth enjoyed one of the cigars Smoke had brought him.

  “Do you remember the springs well enough to draw us a map of the area?” Smoke asked Bear Tooth.

  The mountain man nodded, took a stick, and began to draw in the snow next to him. “It’s a circular valley,” he said, “surrounded on three sides by sheer cliffs goin’ straight up. There’s an openin’ on the south where the trail enters it, an’ a smaller one on the north where the stream enters that feeds the springs,” he said, making the appropriate marks in the snow.

  He made three X’s near the line for the stream. “Right here’s the three cabins the miners built.”

  “What about the caves?” Smoke asked.

  Bear Tooth nodded, and made two more marks next to the cliffs. “They’re right here, but I don’t know nothin’ much ’bout ’em, how deep they is an’ such.”

  Cal glanced at the mountain man. “Didn’t you ever use the caves as shelter?” he asked.

  Bear Tooth shook his head. “Never cared much fer caves. If’n I can’t see the stars, I get to feelin’ trapped an’ hemmed in.”

  Cal nodded as the mountain man continued. “’Cept for the winter of sixty-six, I believe it was.”

  “What happened then?” Pearlie asked, leaning forward to pitch his cigarette butt in the fire.

  “’Twas the coldest winter I recollect,” Bear Tooth said, leaning back and looking at the sky. “It was so cold, when you took a piss, you had to break it off ’cause it froze ’fore it hit the ground.”

  Smoke smiled, knowing another mountain-man tall tale was coming.

  “Yep, that winter I decided to take refuge in a cave over on the north side of the mountain. Trouble is, an ol’ bear had the same idee.”

  “Did you have to kill it?” Pearlie asked, wide-eyed.

  “Hell, no,” Bear Tooth replied. “It was so cold, we was both glad of the company. I just snuggled down to that old critter, and it wrapped its arms around me like an ol’ squaw, an’ we slept the winter through.”

  “Gosh,” Cal said, “don’t bears stink somethin’ awful?”

  Bear Tooth nodded. “Well, I must say, he was a mite gamy, but I’ll tell you the truth, little beaver. I didn’t think he’d take to kindly to me suggestin’ he take a bath, so we both put up with the smell best we could.”

  Smoke and Pearlie laughed out loud; then Cal joined in when he realized the old man was having fun with him.

  “Bear Tooth,” Smoke said, “I haven’t heard such a tall tale since Puma Buck was alive.”

  Bear Tooth looked offended. “You mean you don’t believe me?” he asked.

  “Is that the same year Puma talked about?” Smoke asked. “When it was so cold you had to thaw your words out in a skillet so’s you could hear what the other men were saying?”

  Bear Tooth smiled and shook his head. “No, now that sounds like somethin’ Puma would’ve said. That man never told the truth a day in his life.” He hesitated. “But it was the year I had a campfire freeze on me one night. Damn thing didn’t start burnin’ again till the next day when the sun came out an’ the temperature rose to fifty below.”

  “On that note, I think I’ll get some shut-eye,” Smoke said, chuckling. “We’ve got to get up around midnight and ride over and take a look at the springs when the moon goes down.”

  “How’re you gonna wake up when it’s time?” Cal asked.

  Bear Tooth looked at Cal as if he couldn’t believe what he’d asked.

  “You mean you haven’t learned to wake up whenever you want yet?”

  “Uh, no, sir . . . I mean, no, Bear.”

  “Why, you just set your mind to the time an’ pretty soon, you’ll just naturally get up when you’re supposed to.”

  “Is that the truth, Smoke?” Cal asked.

  “Maybe for Bear Tooth,” Smoke replied, “but as for me, I’m gonna set this pocket watch Sally gave me. It’ll ring a bell when midnight comes.”

  “Oh,” Cal said.

  “Cal, I swear you’re dumber’n a rock,” Pearlie said.

  Bear Tooth shook his head. “Now you just wait an’ see, boys. When that little trinket of Smoke’s goes off, I’ll be up an’ waitin’ for you.”

  35

  In spite of what he’d told Cal, Smoke woke up just before midnight, before the tiny alarm in his pocket watch had a chance to go off.

  Like most mountain men, he came fully awake in seconds. One minute, he was sound asleep; the next, his eyes were open and checking his surroundings for danger before his body moved at all.

  He turned his head and saw Bear Tooth, squatted next to a small, hat-sized fire among the boulders next to their camp. He had a pot of coffee warming on the coals of the fire, which was giving off no smoke whatsoever.

  “Mornin’, Smoke,” the old man whispered, pouring an additional mug of coffee and handing it to Smoke when he crawled out of his sleeping blanket.

  Smoke glanced at Cal and Pearlie, still snoring softly across the clearing.

  “Time to wake the young’uns up,” Bear Tooth said, inclining his head toward the sleeping men.

  Smoke fished a couple of pine cones out of the snow and pitched them onto the sleeping bodies.

  Cal and Pearlie snorted awake, both men instinctively going for their guns.

  “Easy, boys,” Bear Tooth growled with a smile. “Breakfast time.”

  Pearlie yawned and stretched. “Them’s music to my ears, Bear,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep.

  Cal just groaned and rubbed his eyes as Smoke handed them both steaming mugs of coffee.

  Pearlie glanced around at the fire. “I don’t see no breakfast cookin’,” he said.

  “You’re drinkin’ it, beaver,” Bear Tooth said.

  Smoke finished his coffee and walked over to Joker. He took several pair of moccasins out of his saddlebags and threw them over to Cal and Pearlie. “Here, put these on,” he said.

  “Moccasins?” Cal asked.

  “Yes, we’re gonna be going right up to the outlaw camp,” Smoke said. “I don’t want any spurs or sounds of leather on wood or stone to alert them to our presence.”

  He took one of the tins of bootblack out of his saddlebag and smeared some on his face before passing the tin to the boys.

  “How ’bout Bear Tooth?” Pearlie asked. “Doesn’t he need some of this?”

  Smoke shook his head. “No, that beard of his is black enough to keep his face hidden in the dark.”

  “What’s the plan, Smoke?” Bear Tooth asked. “I mean, are we gonna show these dogs any mercy?”

  Smoke shook his head. “No quarter, no mercy. There’ll be no prisoners taken by us this trip. These bastards have already escaped from one prison, and it cost a lot of good people their lives.” He patted the butt of his revolver. “I think we’ll rely on Mr. Colt for all the justice these sons of bitches deserve.”

  Bear Tooth nodded, a grim smile on his face. “Good. I never was one for tellin’ a man to put his hands up.”

  “If you can get us up on the cliffs overlooking the outlaws’ camp,” said Smoke, “the first thing we’ll have to do is take out any sentries they have posted.”

  “Won’t they hear the gunshots?” Cal asked.

  Smoke shook his head and pulled out his Bowie knife. “No, ’cause we’re not going to shoot them.” He passed the blade next to his throat in explanation.

  Pearlie began to build a cigarette, but Bear Tooth shook his head. “Uh-uh, son,” he said gently, “not ’fore battle. We don’t want the smell of tabaccy on us when we’re sneakin’ up on a man.”

  Pearlie glanced at the mountain man, wondering if he was going to go without his smelly bearskin coat, but decided not to say anything.

  Smoke squatted next to the fire, addressing his men. “Now, when we get to the camp, we’re gonna have to split up and each take a different side of the valley. In case things go to hell and there’s
a commotion, we’ll each make our way back to this camp, so be sure and pay attention on the way up so’s you can find your way back down here in the dark.”

  “What if one of us gets in trouble?” Cal asked.

  Smoke stared into Cal’s eyes. “This is war, Cal, and we’re all on our own. We could all get killed rushing in to try and save another and the outlaws would win.”

  Bear Tooth nodded. “So, be careful an’ get the job done right the first time. Don’t go gettin’ softhearted an’ even think of givin’ the man you’re after an even break, ’cause thinkin’ like that’ll get you killed.”

  “Now, after the sentries are all taken out, I’m going to pay the camp itself a little visit,” said Smoke.

  “You’re goin’ down there alone?” Pearlie asked. “Why?”

  “Because there’s nothing that makes a man more nervous than waking up and finding his friend lying next to him with his throat cut and his scalp gone.” Smoke grinned through bared teeth. “Makes sleeping the next night awfully hard, and sleepy, tired men don’t think or fight too well.”

  * * *

  They left their horses behind and made their way up the mountain toward the outlaws’ camp on foot, to minimize any sound they might make. Smoke carried on his back a large burlap bag of surprises for the outlaws.

  The storm Bear Tooth had predicted began with a light snowfall, but thankfully, the wind stayed down and the temperature didn’t drop too much.

  “This is good,” Bear Tooth whispered over his shoulder to the men following him. “The new snowfall will cushion our feet an’ keep the noise down.”

  Once they got to the top of the trail, he squatted and pointed across the mountainside.

  “The valley of the springs is right over there, past that clump of trees.”

  “You make out any of the sentries?” Smoke whispered.

  Bear Tooth nodded, pointing again.

  A bright orange speck of light could be seen off to one side where one of the sentries was smoking a cigarette.

  Bear Tooth shifted his weight and pointed off in another direction, where a dark figure could be seen outlined against the lighter darkness of the sky.

  “I’ll take the one on the left,” Smoke said. “Pearlie, you take the one on the right.”

  “What about me?” Cal asked.

  “You go with Bear Tooth and circle around to the other side of the valley. There’ll probably be a couple more over there.”

  * * *

  Walking on the soles of his feet in a low crouch, Smoke moved as silently as the wind toward the sentry, who had finished his cigarette and was leaning back against the bole of a tree, trying to stay out of the falling snow.

  Smoke slipped his knife out of its scabbard and eased up to the far side of the tree. When he heard the man yawn, he moved quickly in front of him, slashing backhanded with the Bowie knife.

  The razor-sharp blade severed throat, trachea, and carotid arteries as easily as if they were made of soft butter.

  The only sound the man made was a soft gurgle as he strangled on his own blood. Smoke caught him when he toppled, and laid his dead body gently in the snow. After looking at it for a moment, he grinned as a thought occurred to him. He bent and quickly arranged the body so it was sitting with its back against the tree. He put the man’s hat on his head and lowered the brim so it looked like he was sleeping.

  “Someone’s gonna get a big surprise when they try and wake him up,” Smoke said to himself.

  * * *

  Pearlie’s job wasn’t so easy. His man was standing out in the open, with no nearby cover for Pearlie to use in his approach.

  Pearlie considered throwing his knife, but decided not to because if he didn’t get a clean kill, the man might be able to shout a warning or get a shot off.

  Finally, an idea occurred to him. He searched until he found a fist-sized rock, and heaved it over the man’s head. When it landed on the side of the sentry away from Pearlie, the man grabbed his rifle and turned in that direction.

  Pearlie took several running steps and was on the man before he had time to react. Pearlie’s knife entered the man’s back just below the ribs on the left, at an upward angle as Smoke had taught him. The point went through spleen and diaphragm on its way to savage the man’s heart. Pearlie’s left arm was around his neck so he couldn’t cry out as he died.

  The only sound was the slight noise the man’s rifle made when it fell to the ground. Pearlie dragged his body into the bushes and covered it with fallen tree limbs and snow. Then he made his way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the camp to see what was going to happen next.

  Bear Tooth and Cal found only one sentry on their side of the valley. Once Cal had pointed the man out, Bear Tooth nodded at Cal to go get him.

  Cal, surprised and delighted that the mountain man trusted him, pulled his skinning knife from its scabbard and moved quietly toward the man, who was bent over building a cigarette.

  Cal was shorter than the sentry, even bent over, as he slipped up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  When the man grunted in surprise and whirled around, Cal swung his hand in an uppercut with the point of his knife pointed at the sky. The knife entered the man’s throat just under his jaw and drove upward to lodge in his hard palate, pinning his tongue so he couldn’t make a sound.

  When the man struggled, both hands at his throat, Cal grunted and pushed harder, driving the knife blade upward into the man’s brain, killing him instantly.

  Cal had to put his foot on the man’s head to get his knife out of the man’s skull.

  When Bear Tooth walked up, Cal asked him, “Why’d you let me do that?”

  Bear Tooth grinned and whispered, “Since the rheumatiz has hit my legs, my knees pop somethin’ fierce when I walk. I didn’t want the sound to give us away.”

  “Oh,” Cal said, wiping his blade on the dead man’s shirt.

  Bear Tooth squatted, and sure enough, the sound of his knees cracking was like a twig breaking. He pulled out a knife that was so long it was almost a machete, and proceeded to scalp the dead man.

  The sight made Cal’s stomach roll, so he turned away and looked down into the camp while the mountain man finished his grisly work.

  * * *

  Smoke had no trouble following his sentry’s tracks back down the trail leading to the camp in the valley. The outlaws’ campfire had burned itself down to just coals, so there was very little light to give him away as he scurried across the open space toward the cabins.

  All of the outlaws were sleeping in the cabins, and none were outside where Smoke could get to them. He stood there a moment, undecided if he should take the chance of going into one of the cabins, when his eyes fell on several empty whiskey bottles lying next to the fire.

  He smiled to himself, knowing if they’d been drinking that much, sooner or later one would have to come outside to relieve himself.

  He walked to the back of one of the cabins and found what he was looking for, a small outhouse twenty yards from the cabin.

  He stepped behind it and settled down to wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, the door to the cabin opened and a man stumbled toward the outhouse, coughing and trying to clear phlegm out of his throat.

  Smoke waited for him to get inside and get his pants down. Then he jerked the door open and drove his knife in the man’s heart where he sat.

  Then Smoke made a quick slice around the man’s skull and yanked his scalp off, leaving his bloody skull bone exposed.

  Once that was done, Smoke took a bundle of four sticks of dynamite he’d tied together and walked back to the fire. Brushing aside the snow a few feet away, he buried the dynamite, leaving a four-foot length of fuse. He put the end of the fuse near a half-burned log on the fire and covered it with snow mixed with mud. When the outlaws built up the fire the next morning, they were going to be in for a surprise.

  Smoke then walked to where the outlaws’ horses were grouped in a makeshift corral in
the corner of the valley. He opened the gates and walked among them, shooing them out so they’d wander off during the night. He knew some would stay put, but others would walk off in search of grass to graze on, leaving many of the outlaws afoot.

  Figuring he’d done enough for one night, he climbed back up the trail and headed back to their camp.

  He’d heard no outcries, so he knew Cal and Pearlie and Bear Tooth had done their jobs to perfection.

  36

  Once they’d all made it back to their camp, Smoke told them, “We’ve got time for about three hours sleep. Then we need to be on the cliffs overlooking the camp when they wake up.”

  * * *

  Just before dawn, Bear Tooth filled eight canteens with fresh coffee and handed two to each of the men. “You’re gonna need this cafecito to keep you alert,” he said. “It figgers to be a long day.”

  Smoke handed each of the men a sack filled with bundles of dynamite sticks with short fuses. He then handed them each a cigar. “Light these when you see the outlaws stirring,” he said. “Use them for the fuses, but be careful. You’ll only have about fifteen seconds after the fuse is lit before it goes off.”

  “Try for the cabins first,” Bear Tooth advised. “That way they won’t have no cover to hide behind once the shootin’ starts.”

  “And remember, you’ll be shooting downhill,” Smoke said, “so aim a little low; otherwise, you’ll overshoot your targets.”

  He nodded at Bear Tooth. “Bear, you take Pearlie with you. I’ll take Cal with me. That way, we’ll have them surrounded.”

  “Smoke,” Pearlie said, “make sure you tell Cal to keep his damn head down. I’m gettin’ tired of pickin’ lead outta his carcass.”

  “You do the same, Pearlie,” Cal advised. “I’d hate to have to eat all those bear sign Miss Sally makes by myself. I’d get big as a horse.”

  Bear Tooth laughed. “I’ll say one thing ’bout these young beavers of your’n, Smoke. They don’t scare easy.”

  “They’ve been to the river and back a few times, Bear. They’ll handle themselves all right, take my word for it.”

  * * *

  By the time the sun began to lighten the sky to the east, Smoke and his band were ensconced on all sides of the valley.