The Santa Fe Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “Sorry,” Woody said. “As much as I’d like to, I’ll have to pass. There’s cows to be gathered. Take care of those splinters for me, Naomi, and try not to leave any scars.”

  With that, he was gone. Naomi waited a moment longer before she spoke.

  “You don’t really have splinters in your bottom, do you?”

  “Of course not,” said Nell. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Breakfast was ready well before first light. Woody spent a few minutes with Nell, and Vic enjoyed a similar time with Bonita. By the time the first rays of the morning sun crept over the eastern horizon, Woody and the outfit had begun rounding up the scattered longhorns. Nip Kelly’s prediction proved accurate, and none of the cattle had strayed any farther from the river than was necessary to find good graze.

  “After the day we had yesterday,” Rusty said, “we deserve a break, and it looks like we’re about to get it. We’ll have this herd together before sundown.”

  “It’s lookin’ good,” Woody agreed. “We’ll ride downstream for as far as we can see any cows, and then haze ’em back this way. Then we’ll run a tally, learn how many we’re short, and the real gather begins.”

  The obvious place for most of the cattle was the south bank, and they concentrated all their efforts in that direction. When they had ridden five miles, and saw no more cattle, they began pushing the grazing remnants of the herd westward, along the Arkansas. Once they were within several miles of their camp, they bunched the newly gathered herd.

  “We’ll run some tallies,” Woody said. “Rusty, Gavin, and Vic.”

  Though they had no interest in the herd. Wiley and Whit Stubbs had ridden along on the gather. They watched with interest as the cowboys ran their tallies.

  “Twenty-seven hundred,” Rusty said.

  “Twenty-six fifty,” said Gavin.

  “Twenty-seven seventy-five,” Vic announced.

  “We’ll call it twenty-seven hundred,” said Woody. “That means there’s eight hundred of the varmints somewhere along this river.”

  “At least, we hope that’s where they are,” Nip said.

  “We’ll search the north bank,” said Woody. “There’s plenty of shallows where they could have crossed.”

  “With graze over here,” Whit said, “why would they cross?”

  “Texas longhorns are strange critters,” said Ash. “They like to drink from the water they’re standin’ in. When they decide to climb out, they ain’t smart enough to go back the way they waded in. That brings ’em out on the opposite bank.”

  “I hope that holds true in this case,” Gavin said. “There’s no cover, no place for them to hide. If we don’t find ’em on the other side, then we got our work cut out for us.”

  “There’s some ridges,” said Woody, “and there’s generally good graze at the foot of them. We’ll find some of ’em there, where we can’t see ’em from the river. Let’s ride.”

  They crossed the Arkansas, riding north, and somewhere ahead, a cow bawled. Reaching the crest of a low ridge, they reined up. There they found the missing cattle had been gathered, and eight mounted men waited.

  “Trouble,” said Gavin.

  “Maybe,” Woody said. “All of you keep your Colts handy and follow my lead.”

  They rode down the ridge, reining up twenty yards shy of the mounted men.

  “Howdy,” said Woody. “I see you’ve gathered the rest of our herd.”

  The eight riders were all armed, and the one who trotted his horse to the forefront carried twin Colts in a buscadera rig. He laughed, and then he spoke.

  “Pilgrim, we rounded up these cows grazin’ free, and that makes ’em ours. Unless you got some proof, otherwise.”

  “We have the rest of the herd,” said Woody. “They were stampeded by Comanches. All these animals you’ve gathered are branded Circle Five. That’s our brand, registered in Texas.”

  The two-gun man laughed. “You ain’t in Texas, an’ we’re contestin’ your claim. Now, if these critters was in Texas, they’d be worth maybe ten dollars apiece, on the hoof. Just to prove we’re reasonable hombres, we’re willin’ to take ten dollars a head. There’s a few more than eight hunnert, and we’ll throw in the extry ones for free.”

  “As far as you’re concerned,” said Woody, “we’re taking them all for free. They’re not yours to sell.”

  It was an ultimatum no Western man could ignore or fail to understand. The two-gun man drew, but he wasn’t quick enough. Woody Miles drew and shot him out of the saddle. Just as suddenly, the rest of Woody’s outfit had flaming Colts in their hands. It began and ended in half a second. Two of the outlaws escaped, riding for their lives. The rest lay dead or dying.

  “Great God Almighty,” said Wiley Stubbs.

  The Stubbs brothers stared at the dead men in dismay, cutting their eyes back to their companions who were calmly reloading their revolvers.

  “We can use those extra horses,” Woody said. “Let’s round them up and move these cows across the river.”

  Quickly they caught up the horses belonging to the dead outlaws. They then drove the newly acquired horses and the eight hundred cows across the Arkansas. With the longhorn herd again intact, they drove them upriver, beyond their camp, to the nearest graze. The sun was two hours high when Woody reported to Gladstone Pitkin.

  “Commendable, Woody,” Pitkin said. “Commendable. I thought I heard shooting.”

  “You did,” said Woody. “Some outlaws had gathered part of the herd. We persuaded them to return them to us. We’ll be ready to move out tomorrow at first light.”

  Woody found Nell hobbling around, despite the wound in her thigh, refusing to spend another minute in the wagon. Vic found Bonita just as determined. While she was weak, her wound had been tended and bound, and she was on her feet. Gonzales prepared supper an hour early, and there was jubilation within the camp.

  “Pit,” said Woody, “before dark, let’s have another look at the trail map.”

  Pitkin spread the map on the wagon’s tailgate, and they studied the trail ahead.

  “Looks like we’ll reach the main fork of the Arkansas just before we reach Pawnee Rock,” Woody said. “If the map’s accurate, we should be following the Arkansas beyond Fort Dodge, to the point where we enter the desert. The Jornada.”

  Far to the west, there was lightning. The wind had died away to nothing, and the heat seemed oppressive. It was then and there that man and beast became acquainted with the buffalo gnat.*

  “Dear God,” said Naomi Pitkin, “I’m familiar with mosquitos, but I’ve never seen any insect as vicious as these small black ones. What are they?”

  “Buffalo gnats,” Nip Kelly replied, swatting at a swarm of them attacking his face. “I have never experienced them until now, but I’ve heard it said they can drive horses, mules, and cows mad. They’ve been known to cause stampedes.”

  “I’ve heard that too,” said Woody.

  “Hell, we’ll all be up with the herd tonight,” Vic said. “There won’t be no sleepin’, with these little varmints chawin’ on us.”

  “They ain’t satisfied just eatin’ on your hands and face,” said Rusty. “They’ve sneaked up my shirt sleeves and britches legs, and they’re just hangin’ on. I wonder would it help if I dunked myself in the river?”

  Nip Kelly laughed. “For a few minutes maybe, but soon as you got out, they’d all be after you again. You can’t spend the night in the river.”

  “This will be our third night here,” said Gladstone Pitkin. “Where have they been until now?”

  “I have no idea,” Woody said.

  “I think it’s got something to do with the weather,” said Nip. “There’s not a breath of air stirring tonight.”

  Darkness was only minutes away, and the two or three cows that had begun bawling had been joined by many others. They stood there shaking their heads and switching their tails, as swarms of buffalo gnats attacked them. Mules brayed and horses nickered in pain and frustration, a
s they suffered attacks by armies of vicious insects against which they had no defense.

  “Come on, first watch,” Woody said. “We’re in for a night of it.”

  After supper Vic had spent some time with Bonita, and eventually, Jania and Laketa joined them. Sleep being out of the question, Rusty and Ash wandered over, as well.

  “I’ve never been so miserable in my life,” said Bonita. “These gnats are hurting me as bad or worse than my wound ever did.”

  “They’re up the legs of my Levi’s,” Laketa said, “all the way to my…”

  Her voice trailed off in embarrassment, and she laughed nervously. “They’re chewing on mine, too,” Jania said.

  “I’ll get some piggin’ string,” said Rusty. “Maybe if we tied it around our legs, above our boot tops…”

  “Too late,” Vic said. “The varmints is already up to my belt, and another herd of ’em is headed up my shirt sleeves. I had me a case of cooties one time, and they wasn’t near as bad as these damn gnats.”

  “You’ll have to excuse his language, ladies,” said Ash. “He gets a mite carried away, sometimes.”

  “He’ll have to come up with stronger words than that, before the night’s over,” Bonita said. “I’m ready to learn them myself.”

  Jania laughed. “You already know them all. I’ve heard you get a mad on.”

  “What are cooties?” Laketa wondered.

  “Body lice,” said Ash helpfully. “They bite somethin’ awful, and they get together any place you got hair.”

  They all looked at Vic, and when he became embarrassed, they laughed.

  “Damn it,” Vic snorted, “it ain’t funny when a man’s itchin’ in places where it purely ain’t polite to scratch.”

  The longhorns continued to bawl their misery, refusing to lie down. Woody, Gavin, Nip Kelly, and Wiley Stubbs circled the herd, as well as the mules and the horse remuda. Finally, as it grew late, there was a light breeze from the west, and it lessened the massive hordes of buffalo gnats. The longhorns bedded down for the night, while the horses and mules seemed more resigned to their lot. The men on watch dismounted, unsaddled their weary horses, and allowed the animals to roll. When the first watch ended, Woody took the time to say goodnight to Nell, and found her with Naomi and Gavin.

  “I reckon I’ll just set here the rest of the night,” said Gavin. “There ain’t a place on me I ain’t been bit a hundred times by them damn buffalo gnats.”

  Woody laughed. “The sound of your scratchin’ is likely to keep Naomi awake.”

  “No chance of that,” said Naomi. “I’ll be scratching too.”

  “Nell’s got a sore leg,” Woody said. “Why don’t the two of you take a walk?”

  “Nell,” said Gavin, “are you sure you’re ready to be alone with this cow-nursin’ Texas varmint?”

  “I think so,” Nell said. “I’ve already been alone with him, stark naked. Naomi can’t say the same for you.”

  “Oh?” said Naomi. “How would you know? You were drunk all night and part of a day.”

  “Come on, Naomi,” Gavin said, embarrassed.

  Naomi laughed and followed him into the darkness, toward the river.

  Thanks to the buffalo gnats, Vic had slept little, and before it was time for him to begin the second watch, he sought out Bonita. He found her awake, alone, and expecting him.

  “The buffalo gnats finally let up on us,” she said, “so Jania and Laketa are sleeping.”

  “And you should be,” said Vic.

  She laughed. “Not yet. I haven’t seen you since supper, and I knew you’d be here.”

  “I reckon I’m a predictable varmint.”

  “Come sit beside me. Thanks to those gnats, I’m itching in places I can’t reach.”

  “I know the feeling,” Vic said. “How about your wound?”

  “Sore as all get out, but with all these gnats biting me, I forgot everything else.”

  Unlike the rest of the outfit, Vic tended to be shy, even with Bonita, and the silence became embarrassingly long. Suddenly she leaned over and kissed him.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  “Two reasons,” said Bonita. “Because I wanted to, and because you seem to be afraid of me. When I was hurt, you undressed me, tended my wound, and it didn’t bother you. I’m the same as I was then, except more interested in you. Why are you afraid of me? Is it because the others—the men—have been making jokes?”

  “No,” Vic said, “they’d never do that. They’re my pards. It’s…somethin’ else…”

  “Tell me.”

  “No,” said Vic. “You’d just laugh.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “There was this girl…I wasn’t more than a kid…and I liked her a lot. But there was others that she run around with, and they didn’t like me. Well, they put her up to flirtin’ with me, and damn fool that I was, I took her serious. When I made a big play for her, they all laughed in my face, includin’ her.”

  “How terribly cruel,” said Bonita. “How could she live with herself? I’m flattered by your interest in me.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes,” Bonita said. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I realize it isn’t easy for us to be together, on the trail like this. You have part of the responsibility for the herd, and I…well, there’s Paw. The burr under his tail gets bigger every day, and I just can’t get over the feeling that…something…will happen before we reach Santa Fe. I’d just…like to be happy…for a little while. Then if I…I lose it, at least I’ll have the memory…of what it was like…”

  Her voice trailed off into a sob, and she wept as though her heart were broken. She needed very little encouragement, and when Vic put his arms around her, she leaned on him until no tears remained. Her hopelessness, the wistfulness in her voice, overcame Vic Brodie’s shyness, and he began talking to her.

  “Whatever happens between here and Santa Fe, I’ll side you,” he said. “Even if I have to quit the drive to do it.”

  “Oh, no,” she cried, “I wouldn’t want you to do that. These men are your friends, and you have an obligation to Mr. Pitkin.”

  “Because these hombres are my friends, they’d understand,” said Vic, “and while I’ve hired on to help Pitkin build a ranch, he don’t own me. I’d fold my hand and throw it all down for you, if you’ll have me.”

  She wept again, and it was a while before she could speak. When she finally did, he had to lean close to hear.

  “I want you, Vic, but we have no privacy here, and this isn’t the time or the place for me to prove it. I can only be as honest with you as you’ve been with me. I fear that we won’t be allowed to travel beyond Fort Dodge.”

  “Why?” Vic demanded. “What’s in these wagons?”

  “Whiskey,” said Bonita. “Barrels and barrels of trade whiskey.”

  Vic laughed. “There’s no law against that, Bonita, unless he aims to sell it to Indians, and the military at Fort Dodge won’t have any proof of that.”

  “It’s not just that,” Bonita said. “Paw once rode with Quantrill, and after Quantrill was killed, the remnants of his outfit stole two army payrolls. Those payrolls were never recovered, and the government’s been watching Paw. That’s why we’re bound for Santa Fe.”

  “So they think your paw knows where those stolen payrolls are,” said Vic. “Why him?”

  “He’s the only one of that particular bunch that’s still alive,” Bonita said, “and they’re convinced he knows where that gold is.”

  “And you think so too,” said Vic.

  “Yes,” Bonita replied. “I think the barreled whiskey’s just an excuse to quit Missouri. I also think—although I have no proof—that in one or more of those barrels, there’s near fifty thousand dollars in gold.”

  11

  Whit Stubbs was on the second watch with Rusty, Vic, and Ash. Not until Whit took the time to go to the bushes did Vic get a chance to relate what Bonita had told him about Levi Stubbs and the expec
ted difficulty at Fort Dodge.

  “So she thinks the whole family’s likely to be placed under military arrest,” Vic said.

  “That don’t seem right,” said Rusty. “Did she say anything about Wiley and Whit bein’ involved?”

  “No,” Vic replied. “She didn’t say anything about Jania and Laketa either, and I was so shook, I didn’t think to ask.”

  “My guess is, old Levi’s guilty as hell,” said Ash, “but I don’t believe the others are. Whatever happens to Levi, Wiley, and Whit, we got to save the girls.”

  “I already promised to stand by Bonita,” Vic said, “even if it means quittin’ the drive and quittin’ Pitkin.”

  “I’m makin’ Jania the same promise,” said Ash.

  “Then I can’t do any less for Laketa,” Rusty said.

  “Whoa,” said Vic. “You can’t say nothin’ to Jania or Laketa until I talk to Bonita. She may be wise to somethin’ the others don’t know.”

  “When Whit gets back,” Rusty said, “you take a trip to the bushes. Talk to Bonita again, even if you got to wake her. If everything does go to hell when we reach the fort, I think Jania and Laketa ought to be as sure of Ash and me as Bonita is of you.”

  “I reckon you’re right,” said Vic. “I’ll talk to her again.”

  As quietly as he could, Vic crept to the wagon under which Bonita slept. Jania and Laketa slept under the next wagon, a few feet away. To Vic’s surprise, Bonita was awake, and sat up.

  “Vic?”

  “Quiet,” Vic hissed. “I need to talk to you some more.”

  “Then lie down beside me,” said Bonita, “and speak softly.”

  Quickly, quietly, Vic explained his need to talk, of the stand Rusty and Ash had taken for Jania and Laketa.

  “They just want Jania and Laketa to know they won’t be alone, if there’s a showdown at Fort Dodge. They aim to stand up for Jania and Laketa just like I’ll stand up for you, but we didn’t know if they’re as savvy as you about…your paw…and the stolen payrolls.”

  “They share my suspicions,” Bonita said. “They just haven’t had the chance to talk as much as I have, thanks to that Comanche arrow. I think perhaps they’re a little afraid that none of you would have us, if you knew who Paw is, and what he’s done.”