The Santa Fe Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “Let’s think beyond me gettin’ the girls mounted,” Vic said. “I got a Winchester too, and I reckon you both know I’m fair-to-middlin’ good with it. Once the girls are mounted and in the clear, I’ll rein up and help cover the two of you. It’s damned important to keep them Comanches from catchin’ up even one horse. While you and Rusty are scatterin’ them horses, I can cut down any Comanches that might be tempted to fill you full of arrows.”

  “Maybe you have something there,” said Gavin. “I just want to be sure you have Nell and Bonita in the clear. Use your own judgment, but don’t get your tail in a crack tryin’ to side Rusty and me. We’ll be shootin’ like hell wouldn’t have it, and then we’ll be doing some almighty fast ridin’.”

  “I’m goin’ after the horses,” Vic said. “Another hour before sundown, and that bunch is eatin’ supper now.”

  Vic moved swiftly, using the available cover, and was soon out of their sight.

  “There won’t be much daylight left, after we bust loose,” said Rusty. “All we got to do is get out of there alive, after Vic gets to Nell and Bonita.”

  “You handled him just right,” Bonita said, when Nell regained her senses.

  “I couldn’t have done it without you showing me how,” said Nell. “Now what do you suppose they’ll do with us?”

  “I don’t know,” Bonita said. “I think we disgraced the pair that tried to take us, and it may discourage the others. At least we’ve gained some time. Before much longer, it’ll be dark.”

  But there was no more time. Four squaws came for them, forcing them to their feet, prodding them along with sharp sticks. A hundred yards beyond the camp, Nell and Bonita could see the two lines of squaws alongside the river. Indian braves, while not wishing to get too close to an event involving squaws, had gathered outside the teepees where they could see what was about to take place. The medicine man—wearing buffalo horns—sat on his horse so that he had a better view.

  “I don’t like the looks of this,” Bonita said, as they neared the squaws lined up along the river. “They’re going to beat us.”

  “Let’s run for it,” said Nell. “What do we have to lose?”

  “Not yet,” Bonita said. “Something has to happen.”

  Something did. There was the sharp crack of a Winchester, and the horned medicine man pitched off his horse. In the stunned silence that followed, the roar of one Winchester became the echo of another, as braves scrambled for their weapons. Then came thundering hoofbeats, as yelling, pistol-wielding horsemen swept down on the camp.

  “Caballos!” a brave shouted. “Caballos!”

  But they were too late. The shooting and shouting had spooked the horses and they broke into a run. The squaws lined up for the gauntlet found themselves confronted by a galloping horseman and three horses. They dropped clubs and knives, scampering out of harm’s way, but some of them were tumbled into the river.

  “Vic!” Bonita shouted. “Vic!”

  “Mount up!” Vic shouted.

  Bonita leaped into the saddle, but Nell wasn’t quite as adept. Vic seized her hand and set her astride the horse, letting her find the stirrups as best she could. It had all taken no more than a few seconds. Some of the squaws swung their clubs, but their targets were moving. The sticks swatted the flanks of the horses, and they leaped ahead.

  Three hundred yards upriver, Vic reined up, passing the reins of the horses to Nell and Bonita. From its saddle boot he drew his Winchester, but there was no need for it. The stampeding of the horses had been successful, and there was no sign of Gavin or Rusty. Few if any of the Comanches had loosed any arrows, and those who hadn’t taken cover from the deadly fire apparently had pursued their horses. Crossing the Cimarron, Vic rode west, followed by Bonita and Nell. When they were far enough from the Indian camp, Vic reined up. Bonita edged her horse as near his as she could get, and for the first time since her capture, she wept.

  “I knew you would come!” she cried. “I told Nell you would.”

  “I didn’t come alone,” said Vic. “Gavin and Rusty are back yonder somewhere. All this was Gavin’s idea, and it was him and Rusty that done the shootin’ and stampeded the Comanche horses.”

  “Bless all of you,” Nell said. “If Naomi ever speaks another unkind word to Gavin, I will personally tear her hair out by the roots.”

  “We tried to get here before they…done anythin’ to either of you,” Vic said.

  “They tried,” said Bonita, “but we changed their minds. I think you saved us from a terrible beating.”

  “They was goin’ to make you run the gauntlet,” Vic said. “If you’d got through it and was still on your feet, they’d have made you do it again.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a blanket with you?” Nell asked hopefully.

  “No,” said Vic, “and I doubt Gavin or Rusty will. We was ridin’ light, not expecting to need our bedrolls or saddlebags. But it’ll soon be dark.”

  Nell and Bonita laughed at his obvious embarrassment.

  “I’m not complaining,” Nell said. “I’m just thankful to be alive.”

  “We’ll be all right,” said Bonita. “Without protection, the sun would have ruined us, but we’ll be back in camp before morning, won’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Vic said. “I’m wonderin’ what’s happened to Gavin and Rusty.”

  “While we’re waiting for them,” said Nell, “why can’t we get into the river and wash ourselves? I’m sweaty and I’ve been pawed by Indians, and I feel dirty.”

  “So do I,” Bonita said.

  “Have at it,” said Vic, “but don’t get out of my sight, and be ready to run for it if you have to. I’ll keep watch.”

  Nell and Bonita had barely gotten into the water when Gavin and Rusty arrived.

  “Where in tarnation have you been?” Vic asked. “I was startin’ to wonder if some of ’em had got to their bows and arrows and had pincushioned the both of you.”

  “We got through without a scratch,” said Gavin. “We got their horses on the run, and wanted to be sure they didn’t catch any of them in time to come after us. You should have ridden on.”

  “Looked like we was rollin’ nothin’ but sevens,” Vic said. “I wanted to see if Bonita and Nell was all right, and they wanted to wash, while they had water. There won’t be any to spare, once we’re back in camp.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Gavin. “I reckon we should have remembered to bring some blankets with us.”

  “Nell and Bonita ain’t complainin’,” Vic said, “and the sun won’t be a problem.”

  “We’d better take the time to water all the horses,” said Rusty.

  “Good idea,” Gavin replied.

  They all dismounted and led the animals to water a few yards below where Nell and Bonita were washing. By the time the horses had drunk their fill, Bonita and Nell were out of the water. Without a word, her hair dripping, Nell put her arms around Gavin. Before he recovered from the kiss, she thanked Rusty in a similar manner.

  “Hey,” Vic said, “what about me?”

  “Sorry,” said Nell. “I wasn’t sure that Bonita would approve.”

  “Under the circumstances, Bonita doesn’t care,” the girl said.

  Nell then presented Vic with a similar reward.

  “I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” said Bonita. “Vic?”

  “Go ahead,” Vic replied.

  Bonita went to Gavin and Rusty first, saving her most generous reward for Vic.

  “That was more than I ever expected,” said Gavin.

  “Same here,” Rusty said, “and I promise not to tell.”

  Vic laughed. “When we ride in with the two of ’em jaybird-naked, I reckon we won’t have anything to tell. I’m just glad Bonita’s alive, and I reckon the rest of her folks will be of the same mind.”

  “Then let’s mount up and ride,” said Gavin. “If our wounded are able, we ought to be on the trail at first light tomorrow. We still have the herd to gather, if we can
find them.”

  Jania and Laketa had volunteered to stand watch so that Nip and Rusty wouldn’t have to take the entire night. Nip and Laketa had taken the first watch, and at midnight, Ash and Jania had taken over. They were talking quietly when Ash drew and cocked his Colt.

  “What is it?” Jania whispered.

  “Someone’s out there,” said Ash. “Stay where you are.”

  Moonset was only minutes away, and Ash knelt in the shadow of one of the wagons. Anyone but an Indian would have a difficult time finding him in the dark. He spoke softly.

  “Identify yourself.”

  “Three hell-for-leather Texans, and two naked females we took from the Comanches,” Rusty answered.

  “Send in the naked females, and the rest of you varmints vamoose,” said Ash, in as gruff a tone as he could manage.

  They all exploded in laughter that awoke the rest of the camp. Weeping, Jania threw her arms around Bonita. Everybody—including Gonzales—was there within seconds. Even Gladstone Pitkin lost his reserve and caught up Nell in an affectionate manner that she had not experienced in years.

  “Excuse me,” Nell said, “but will someone bring me a blanket? I’ve been naked since yesterday morning, and I’m freezing.”

  “I’d like one too,” said Bonita, “for the same reason.”

  “Gonzales,” Gavin said, “I reckon it’s a mite early for breakfast, but all any of us has had since leavin’ here is a handful of jerked beef. What about it?”

  “Sí,” said Gonzales. “Hot coffee muy pronto, then grub.”

  Woody had waited until the excitement had died down, and even then he didn’t go immediately to Nell. Without a word, he offered his hand to Rusty, then to Vic. When he eventually took Gavin’s hand, he spoke just one word.

  “Bueno.”

  It was enough. Woody then welcomed Nell, who had donned a blanket. Within minutes Gonzales had hot coffee ready, and Gavin had taken the opportunity to report to Pitkin.

  “We were considerably outnumbered,” Gavin said, “so we had to use some tricks to free the girls from the Comanches. I’m pleased to report that they conducted themselves well under dangerous circumstances.”

  “I am pleased with the overall manner in which you and your riders resolved what had all the earmarks of a disaster,” said Pitkin. “You exceeded my expectations.”

  “I’m obliged,” Gavin said. “I must say I didn’t like takin’ Vic and Rusty away, leavin’ so many of you wounded, but I had no choice.”

  “I have learned much in the last several days,” said Pitkin. “Most important, I think, is that the responsibilities of a trail boss are diverse and difficult. Further, I believe I can say without reservation that we have truly come together as an outfit.”

  Gavin laughed and went looking for Naomi. He found her sipping coffee, watching Nell and Woody. Naomi had been expecting him, and produced a second cup of coffee.

  “Had Nell really been naked since yesterday morning?” Naomi asked.

  “I expect she had,” Gavin said, “and so had Bonita. Indians generally treat female captives that way. Nell and Bonita were about to run the gauntlet when we took them away.”

  “Father and Woody are proud of you,” said Naomi, “and you know I am.”

  “That’s behind us,” Gavin replied. “More important, are those of you who have been wounded able to travel?”

  “I am,” said Naomi. “You treated my wound superbly, and it’s healing well. I believe I can ride without difficulty. I’m sure Father won’t have any trouble with the wagon. Wiley and Whit still limp, but I heard them say they’re ready to move on. You’ll have to make up your own mind about Woody.”

  “I aim to,” Gavin said. “I hope he’s able to ride, so he can take over as trail boss. I’ll talk to him as soon as I’m able to pry him loose from Nell.”

  “When you do,” said Naomi, “send her over here to talk to me. I want to hear every detail of her adventure.”

  “Especially the part about her ridin’ naked across the desert with three men,” Gavin said.

  Naomi laughed. “Yes, especially that part.”

  “Grub,” Gonzales shouted. “Eat, or I feed it to the mulos.”

  The recent captives and their rescuers were half-starved, and everything else had to wait while they had breakfast. First light was still an hour away when Gavin had a chance to talk to Woody.

  “Woody,” Gavin said, “we need to move out at first light. Are you able?”

  “Yes,” said Woody. “I’m still sore, but by the time we give the horses and mules a little water, our barrels will be dry. Without the herd, I won’t be under that much strain. Have you talked to the others who were wounded?”

  “Mostly just to Naomi,” Gavin said. “I reckon I’d better ask the others. Are you in a mood to become trail boss again?”

  Woody laughed. “I’m in no hurry. Pitkin’s so pleased with you, why don’t you just keep the title? All I could get out of Nell is how wonderful you are.”

  Gavin didn’t respond to that, but called the outfit together. They listened as he spoke to them.

  “I realize some of you who were wounded haven’t had time to fully heal, but we’re in no position to remain here any longer. There’s about enough water in our barrels for a small ration to our horses and mules. We must move on. Perhaps to Sand Creek, perhaps to the Cimarron River, the nearest source of water. I’ve been to the Cimarron, and I know there’s water. Somewhere ahead of us, we should find the herd. The gather will take some time, and those of you who were wounded will have a chance to heal and become stronger. Are there any questions?”

  There were none.

  “Let’s water the horses and mules,” Gavin said, “and then we’ll move out.”

  They took the trail, the riders driving the horse remuda ahead, followed by the three wagons. Nell and Naomi were mounted, as were the three Stubbs girls. Riding ahead, Gavin was accompanied by Woody, and they were gratified to find the tracks of the stampeded herd led on.

  “We needed a miracle,” Woody said, “and the stampede could have been it. Now, if we can only find the herd.”

  “No reason why we shouldn’t,” Gavin said. “Cows ain’t too bright, but they’re smart enough not to stray from water. There’s nobody to drive ’em away, unless Indians have got mighty ambitious.”

  “Longhorns might wander along a creek or river,” said Woody. “They’ll have to go with the graze, but we can live with that.”

  Gavin said nothing. It was he who had suggested to Pitkin the herd might be gathered along Sand Creek or the Cimarron, and the Englishman’s hopes were now riding on that. Now it seemed that Woody had taken hold of that same slender straw of salvation. While the missing herd should be scattered along creek or river, suppose they were not?

  “What’s ahead of us?” Naomi asked, trotting her horse beside Gavin’s.

  “Sand and cow tracks,” said Gavin.

  “Then we will find the herd, won’t we?”

  “I hope so,” Gavin replied. “Even if they reached water, they still may have drifted up or downstream, lookin’ for graze. We may be a while roundin’ ’em up.”

  “I don’t care how long it takes,” said Naomi, “as long as we’re off this hot, miserable desert. I want to see trees and green grass.”

  Woody and Nell rode together, while Vic accompanied all three of the Stubbs girls.

  “Vic,” Jania said, “Bonita won’t tell us about her time with the Indians. Will you tell Laketa and me?”

  “Ain’t much to tell,” said Vic cautiously, aware that Bonita was watching him. “Rusty, Gavin and me got there just in time to save Bonita and Nell from bein’ beat to death by a bunch of squaws.”

  “I always thought Indians stole white women for…another purpose,” Laketa said, with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I reckon they do,” said Vic, aware he was on thin ice, “but that don’t…always work out. A woman can discourage a man—even a Comanche—if she tries hard enough.
”

  “I suppose Bonita could discourage a man, if she set her mind to it,” Jania said, “but what does a woman do when she’s stark naked, and that man’s a Comanche?”

  “That’s somethin’ only Nell or Bonita can tell you,” said Vic.

  “That’s an idea,” Laketa said. “Nell was nice to us during breakfast. We’ll talk to her tonight.”

  Bonita glared at Vic, and he shrugged his shoulders.

  Sand Creek. July 18, 1869.

  Again Gavin rode ahead, and again Woody accompanied him. Eventually they could see a faint line of green on the horizon.

  “That’s got to be Sand Creek,” Gavin said.

  “I reckon,” said Woody. “Do we ride on ahead and make sure, or go back and hurry the others?”

  “Let’s go back and hurry the others,” Gavin said.

  They rode back, waving their hats. The riders pushed the horse herd to a faster gait, while Pitkin, Wiley, and Whit urged their teams on. Gavin and Woody waited for all to catch up and then swung in ahead of them.

  “Sand Creek?” Nip Kelly shouted.

  “Yeah,” Gavin shouted back. “It has to be.”

  There were cattle tracks everywhere, and the bed of the creek was still muddy, but there was no water…

  18

  “There’s mud,” Woody said. “That means there was water after the cloudburst. Break out the shovels.” Nip and Rusty brought the shovels, and the men took turns digging. Soon they had three holes several feet deep, all of them slowly filling with muddy water.

  “We’ll dig a few more holes,” said Gavin. “This will have to do until we can go on to the Cimarron.”

  “Perhaps that’s where we’ll find the herd,” Pitkin observed.

  “Maybe,” said Gavin. “When the creek began dryin’ up, there may have been some low places where there was still water for a while. We may have to ride the length of this creek, as well as the Cimarron, before we find them all.”

  Pitkin looked at Woody, and Woody nodded.

  “The water in the first holes is startin’ to clear up,” Rusty said.