by Lou Bradshaw
He looked up with a bit of a shocked look on his face. “What the hell’s it any of your business, you old son of bitch?”
Still setting my horse I said, “You’re wearin’ a gun, Mister. You just haul it out and start shootin’ cause anybody call my ma a bitch is gonna die.” And as he stood there tryin’ to put all that I just told him into something that made sense… I pulled the trigger of that Winchester. I turned my attention to his partner because I knew where that first shot went and there wouldn’t be any return fire.
His partner must have been a little smarter because he was going for his weapon as I jacked another cartridge into my rifle, but I could jack quicker than he could claw at his belt, and I put a hole in him too.
I helped that miner to his feet and got some cold water from the creek, so he could wash away some of that blood and see how bad off he was. While he was cleaning up, I managed to get them dead ones slumped across their saddles.
Squatting down on my heels, I stirred up his fire and made some coffee. When he quit spitting blood, he came to the fire and sat down cross legged on the ground.
“I want to thank you, Mister….” He started to say. But I just waved it off.
He gave me his name, and I told him that I was proud to meet him, but I didn’t give him my name. “If I tell you who I am,” I said, “some of their friends might have some objections to what just took place. I’d just as soon leave it a mystery. If you feel that you have to talk to somebody about it, just tell them that some tall handsome stranger ridin’ a great white horse came out of the woods and done ‘em.”
I asked him what was going on and he told me, “That was Brackett and Wilson from the Rocky Mountain Gold Miner’s Sinn-dee-kate, which is fancy talk for claim jumpers…. They were tryin’ to get me to sign over my claim, and if you hadn’t showed up, it wouldn’t have mattered much anyway. They’d have just dumped my body in a hole somewhere and took it over.”
“Well, friend, if any of those syndicate people come around, you just tell them that those boys beat you up, took what dust you had and rode on out. I’ll find holes for these two and turn their horses loose.”
I led those horses out into the wilderness a couple of miles, until I came to a nice deep gully. There, I pulled them down from their horses and scalped them. I wasn’t a scalper by nature, but if they was ever found, folks would just lay it off on a chance meeting with some Indians. It happened now and then. Then I just rolled them over the edge and down into that gully. Neither of them had a rifle in their saddle boot, so I gave those horses a whack and sent them on their way.
At that point, I was about six or so miles from the settlement and still plenty of daylight, so I rode on in.
I rode straight down the rutted street and pulled up in front of the supply store. I went in and bought up some flour, bacon, cartridges, and coffee. I gave the clerk one of those smaller than a pea sized nuggets. He dropped it on the scale and gave me six dollars change.
“Where’d you git that, Cain?” he asked, but he was talking to the back of my head, and the back of my head never answers such questions. To be honest about it, the front of my head wouldn’t have answered such a question either. There were two or three people in the store at the time and I was pretty sure that the whole camp would know about it before I left.
I stowed my purchases behind my saddle and led my horse on down to the Assay Office, where I handed the man another one of those tiny yellow pebbles and asked, “Is this the real thing?”
“It’ll take a little bit to get you a full report, but I wouldn’t be going too far out on a limb to tell you this is almost pure gold…. Have you filed on it yet?”
“Nope.” I said.
“Why not, man…. This could be the richest strike in the territory…. It could be worth millions! You need to protect your interest.”
“I got all I want out of it. I’ll just leave it there and let some other fella have the pleasure and worries of being a rich man.”
He just stood behind that counter, lookin’ up at me, kinda slack jawed. I lifted my saddle bags off my shoulder and set ‘em down on the counter. “How much you figure that would be worth?”
He just stared up at me, and then he blinked and blinked twice more real quick. Then he poured all that gold out on the counter and went through it pretty thorough. Next he reached under the counter and pulled out a larger scale, and weighed it all in three sections.
I waited while he did some figuring and mumbling to himself. “I… I figure there to be at least tewnt… uh… no, there’s at least three thousand dollars…. That’s all I can offer you, Mister…?”
“Cain.” I said. “Just Cain.”
“Mister Cain, I’ll give you three thousand dollars cash money for what’s on this counter. That’s the best I can do.”
The way he fidgeted and stuttered, I figured there must be a site more, but that was more money than I’d ever seen or knew of, and damned sure more than I’d ever expected to have. “Well sir,” I said, “when a man does the best he can do, then that just has to be good enough… I’ll take it.”
He counted out the money, wrote up a bill of sale, and I signed it. Then as I was leaving he said, “Mr. Cain, if you were to reconsider not telling anyone where you found this, I’d see if I could come up with a little more money, or maybe we could be partners… I could take care of the working part of it, and you could just sit back and collect.
“Oh, I’ll tell you where it is, all right. It’s right out there.” I pointed my thumb at about a thousand square miles of mountains, walked to the door, and said, “Thank you kindly.”
As I was passing the horse trader’s corrals, I saw my pack horse tied to a picket line with a number of other low looking critters. Pulling’ up, I rode over to it to make sure. “Howdy Cain.” Came a voice from behind me.
“Howdy yourself, McKenzie… I see that critter came on home.”
“Yeah, he showed up a couple of days ago. I figured he run off from you or your top knot was hangin’ from some Ute tee pee.”
“Utes don’t live in a tee pee, Mac. They live in a wickiup.”
“Well anyhow, I’m glad you didn’t wind up dead out there.”
“Listen, Mac, I’m pullin’ out of here in the morning, and I won’t need that critter. What would you give for him.”
I could see his mind grinding away, thinking what he could do to get the best of me on a horse deal. “Ten dollars.” He said, and I took it. I think he was disappointed that I didn’t get down to some good old fashioned haggling.
Truth of the matter was I didn’t need that horse, and I didn’t need that ten dollars either… it was just a matter of principle.
I told him again that I was pulling out in the morning and wished him well. Then I just rode strait on out of there heading south. I was carrying three thousand and thirty six dollars in my pouch, and I wanted to get out of there before word got around about my good fortune.
It was almost full dark when I built my coffee and elk steak fire. It had been an eventful day, and I was kinda tired, so I just ate, drank my coffee, took care of my horse, and rolled up in my blankets for a good night’s sleep. I was counting on my horse to be my watch dog that night, and he must have done a fine job because I woke up refreshed and still in one piece and still a rich man.
Chapter 3
Just after first light, I was riding down the trail with the sun on my left shoulder. When the sun was over head, I stopped for a nooning. Finding a place I liked, I built a fire and made coffee. It was on a little higher ground, and I could see for a good stretch back down the trail. I’d been watching my back trail all morning, but this was the best spot I’d found to really get a good look.
Sure enough, there it was… a plume of dust way out on the flat. It was hard to judge because of the haze, but it was a good four or five miles back. From the size of the plume, there were at least two and maybe more horses involved. I wasn’t going to try to outrun them… if they were in fac
t following me… and that was a pretty safe bet. This trail hadn’t been used in weeks, and now there were two parties and as many as four riders all at the same time…. Not hardly likely.
“Well,” says me to nobody, “it looks likely that I’ve picked up some company.” If those fellas are just innocent travelers, then they won’t be botherin’ to follow me, if I were to leave the trail. So I finished my coffee, put out my fire, and moved on down trail about eight or ten more miles, till I found what I was looking for.
It was a little box canyon, actually it wasn’t much more than a larger jagged gash. It went back in to the mountain side about a quarter of a mile, and then it became little more than a crack in a tall wall of granite. I found me a likely looking campsite and went about making myself a supper. I was carrying way too much money to feel comfortable. By now, I figured half the prospectors in camp were out trying to backtrack me to my find, and the others were thinking about me riding out of that camp with cash money.
Now, most of those who were covetous of my money would just sit back and covet the hell out of it but do nothing about it. There are always those few who are stronger coveters than the average. They’re the ones who are likely to follow a fella into the wilderness. But following a mountain man into the mountains, ain’t altogether a smart thing to do… it’s something akin to following a grizzly into his den. Not something you ought to be doin’.
After supper of a chunk of elk, which was beginning to turn a little rank, and some strong black coffee, I started getting ready for my company. It was beginning to draw into the later part of the afternoon; the sun had passed well into the west, and the whole canyon was in shadows. It was early for supper, but I didn’t know if I’d be still in one piece or even alive come time for a proper supper, so I ate.
I set my horse on a little bit of grass on the canyon floor, and he was in plain sight of anyone who was to venture back into that canyon. I had a nice fire going because it could get a little chilly in these mountains when the shadows overtake the sunshine. I had me a nice piece of buckskin that I’d been working on to make a new shirt. I’d already cured the leather and marked it out for cutting. So there I sat cross legged like an Injun with a piece of elk hide across my lap to keep from losing my awl and needle in the pine needles.
I heard them coming from a good ways out. They were coming in slow and real cautious like. When they came into view, I saw there were three of them… now that could be a problem. One man gave you a fifty-fifty chance. Two men slanted the odds a little more against you, but three men gave you a distinct chance of losing some blood. Oh well, I’ve got a few scars already, a few more won’t make me any more or less attractive.
When they spotted my horse, one of them called “Hello, the camp… can we come in?”
“Come ahead… but come nice and easy though.” I called back. That was the first they’d seen of me. I was sitting under a low hanging pine. I wasn’t invisible, but I surely was hard to see. If I hadn’t called out to them, they’d never have seen me.
They rode on into the camp, and one of them started to dismount. “I said come on in… I didn’t say light and sit.” I told them. He swung his leg back over and settled himself into the saddle. “No offense, gents, but I don’t invite anyone to get down, ‘till I know what he’s got on his mind.”
I continued appearing to be working and paying them no mind. “What can I do for you fellas?”
The one who seemed to be the leader said, “If your name is Cain, then we’ve got a business proposition for you.” One of the others chuckled at that.
“Sorry, gents, but I’m retired, and I don’t do no more business.”
“Now look here, Mr. Cain, we came a long way out here to make you some money, I think the least you can do is listen to what we’ve got to say. We’re just interested in buying your claim. We’ll give you the money right here on the spot and you can keep on ridin’ away… You won’t even need to go back to town.”
“Somebody gave you some bad information, Mister… I don’t own any claims, and I never have owned one.”
“But you brought in nearly five thousand dollars worth of Jewelry Rock. Just tell us where you got it from and we’ll make you a rich man.”
“I’m already a rich man… I don’t need or want more wealth… It just brings out folks who want to take it away…. Now I’m right sorry you fellas spent all day in the saddle lookin’ for someone who didn’t ask you to come lookin’.”
Sometimes I can be real abrupt and downright rude. As a rule, I’m a happy person, but that happiness doesn’t always get to my face, so a lot of folks never get to know what a pleasant person I really am. These boys were never going to see my good side. If they didn’t turn them horses around and get on back down the way they came… some of them may not see another sunrise. It’s their choice.
“Now let’s back up and start over, Mr. Cain.” The leader said, “My name is Ludlow, Tom Ludlow, and I’m the president of the Rocky Mountain Gold Miner’s Syndicate. These gentlemen are Mr. Porter and Mr. Kinder,” as he pointed to each man in turn, “my associates, and we’d very much like to get down and try to come to some kind of deal for a map to where you found that gold.”
“You got any other associates?” I asked.
Ludlow smiled like a black bear with a paw full of honey and said, “Why yes, as a matter of fact, we do. Mr. Brackett and Mr. Wilson are in the hills at this time acquiring properties.”
“Would they be a couple of big husky fellas… one ridin’ a blazed faced sorrel and the other one a gray?”
“Yes, that would describe them pretty well… Did you happen to meet them in the hills?” He asked. That Tom Ludlow could sure lay the words out so they were as smooth as warm butter on a hotcake.
“I come across them when they were near on to beating a miner to death… so I shot ‘em both… guess you’re kinda short on associates, and if you fellas don’t get the hell out of my camp, your syndicate will go out of business for lack of associates.”
Just about what I expected to happen…did. Ludlow raised the pistol he had in on the saddle in front of him. He was bringing it around to line me up with it when I shot him right through the elk hide covering my lap. Before he fell from the saddle, I had turned my attention to the man directly to his right and put one through his right shoulder. I meant to put one through his chest, but shootin’ through an elk hide isn’t exactly ideal.
Mr. Kinder had both hands stuck straight up in the air. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled. “I’m through… I quit.”
I told him to get down and get Ludlow across his saddle. Then I took all their weapons and told him to take his dead and wounded out of here, and never to cross my trail this side of the Pearly Gates. I figured that if we met up there it would mean that we had both changed our ways and had become real righteous fellas. I wasn’t holdin’ out on meeting him again.
As soon as they were gone, I put out my fire, saddled up and moved on another four or five miles down the trail. I didn’t expect any trouble from them. Kinder had his hands full with a wounded man and a dead one.
I figured that within a couple of miles, they’d clean out Ludlow’s pockets and dump the body. The way I looked at it, the Rocky Mountain Gold Miner’s Syndicate was out of business, and a lot of hard working miners would never know how much better off they were. Just me knowing was enough.
The next morning I pointed my horse south and was on my way. I was getting up into higher and ruggeder country. It was more beautiful each time I turned my head, and each time I took another bend in the trail.
* * *
Three days ago I lost my horse. Well… I didn’t exactly lose it so much as I had to shoot it and leave it. There had been a cougar stalking us for the better part of a day, and that poor bronc was some kind to skittish about it. As that cat got closer, and we got higher, that horse got to be more and more uncomfortable to be a straddle of.
Some of those trails were no more than an eyebrow hanging on
a rock wall, and the next step down was more than a thousand feet, so you can imagine my reluctance to trusting my hide to his jangled nerves. I had just dismounted, and was getting ready to lead him down one of those old old trails, probably been used for a thousand years by those who came before. Some of them had started out all of about five hundred feet above where you would end up, and they had a width of five feet at best.
I wasn’t inclined to ride that nervous critter down the next leg of trail; I was thinking of putting him on a lead rope, so that if he started slipping, I’d have a little time to get out of his way… At least that’s what I had started thinking about, when that lion hit. He was big, he was hungry, and he had been crouched on a rock shelf about six feet above us. He landed on my horse’s neck, with his hind quarters on the saddle, and that cat was clamping down.
The reins were yanked from my hand, and that horse went up and back trying to shake that beast off him. That cat stuck like a tic. When horse and cougar both hit that rocky ground, neither was worth two cents. That cat never let go, even though his whole back half was crushed by the saddle. His only instinct was to kill, and he was trying to break my horse’s neck, until I put two bullets in his murderous little brain.
I didn’t need to look twice at my horse to see that he had taken his last trail. His side was ripped wide open from whatever he had landed on. I put the next bullet in his loyal brain. He’d been a good one, and I hated to have to do it, I just hoped he understood… I was afoot and in trouble.
That was three days ago and I’ve been walking and packing my worldly belonging across some pretty mean and beautiful country ever since. It was just a couple of hours ago, that I got wind of something or someone was dogging my trail.
Chapter 4
