by Tell Cotten
I could tell Pa wanted to say something back, but he controlled himself and turned away.
Benson smiled wolfishly as he loped off.
Chapter seven
Mrs. Day pulled her wagon up beside us, and Pa explained the situation to her.
“I’ll stay and help,” she offered.
“No, you had best go with the wagons,” Pa told her. “It shouldn’t take us long to get the wagon fixed, and then we’ll be right behind you.”
I could tell Mrs. Day didn’t want to leave, but she did what Pa asked.
Pa watched her silently as she got back in line, and then he turned to us.
We must have looked worried, because Pa tried to reassure us.
“Don’t worry, boys, everything will be all right.”
“Yes, Pa,” I replied.
The wagons rolled on by, and most of the folks glanced curiously at us. But, the Jones’ wagon acted like we weren’t even there.
Pa got busy. He went to the back of the wagon and pulled his tools out, and then we got to work.
Suddenly, from underneath the wagon, Pa hollered out in a rage.
“Now I know what Benson was up to last night! He sawed our axle halfway in two! That’s what he did! And that isn’t the worst of it!”
Pa crawled out from underneath the wagon and walked away as he tried to calm down. Pa was real mad, and his voice shook when he talked.
“Benson didn’t take any chances. He sawed that axle halfway in two on both ends, and that means I can’t patch it. We’ve got to have a brand new axle.”
“How are we going to do that?” I asked.
Pa pointed at a far away tree.
“We’ll have to make one.”
Pa wasted no more time. He told us to set up camp, and he grabbed his ax and went down to a little draw where a big tree stood.
Pa started chopping that tree down, and as it was getting dark the tree finally fell. With the first light of the new day Pa would start shaping the trunk for the new axle, but for now he had done all that he could do.
Pa didn’t want to risk the light of a fire. So, instead of a hot cooked meal, we had some shredded jerky and a few handfuls of dried corn.
“It’ll probably take us all day tomorrow to get that new axle built,” Pa told us while we were eating.
“So we’ll be staying here another night,” Elliot figured.
Pa nodded somberly.
“Yes, probably so.”
It was silent as we all thought on that.
“That’ll put us two days behind the wagon train,” Elliot finally said.
“At least,” Pa agreed. “But, don’t you boys worry none. We’ll be all right. Why, there probably aren’t any Injuns within miles of here.”
For the rest of the night Pa tried to look cheerful. But Pa didn’t fool me, and I could tell that he was worried.
“Get some sleep, boys,” Pa told us after a while. “I’ll keep watch.”
Elliot and me grabbed our bedrolls and stretched out. I fell right to sleep, but it seemed like no time at all when I felt Pa shaking me.
I opened my eyes and saw that it was already daylight.
Pa had been up for a while, working on the tree trunk. But now he was serious and grim looking, and was also breathing heavily.
Pa’s voice was grave.
“Get up boys, quick. Injuns are coming.”
Chapter eight
“They’re coming over that hill behind us,” Pa told us. “They’re probably following the wagon tracks, so they’ll find us real quick.”
Pa let it sink in, and then he continued.
“Elliot, I want you to stay here with me. Rondo, I want you to climb up on Slim and ride for the wagon train. Tell ’em what’s happened, and see if any of them will come back and help. We’ll be holding them off until you get here.”
“None of them care anything about us,” I protested.
“When they hear we’re in trouble they’ll change their minds,” Pa replied.
Pa pulled me to my feet, and he never stopped talking.
“If things go wrong and we don’t make it, I want you to stay with Karen. She’s a good woman, and she’ll be good to you. You mind her now, you hear?”
“Yes, Pa,” I said.
Pa had already saddled Slim, so I took ahold of the reins and swung on.
Pa reached up and patted me on my back.
“Remember all I’ve taught you.”
I tried to reply, but suddenly I was choked up. I nodded at Pa and looked over at Elliot, and then Pa slapped Slim on the rump.
***
We rode hard for about fifteen minutes, and then I slowed Slim to a trot so he wouldn’t wear himself out.
Suddenly, I heard the distant boom of a rifle shot.
I pulled up Slim, and I heard several more rifle shots, followed by silence.
It stayed quiet for a while, but then there was another burst of gunfire. There was more silence after that, followed by another round of rifle shots.
Suddenly, without thinking, I wheeled Slim around and headed back in a dead run. Pa and Elliot were putting up a fight, and I wanted to be with them.
A lot can happen in fifteen minutes.
I was getting back just as fast as I could, but when I was only about halfway back all the shooting stopped.
A few minutes later I topped out on a hill, and in one glance I saw all I needed to.
Two bodies lay near the wagon. The Injuns must have already left, because I didn’t see any of them.
I gripped my six-shooter as I rode down the hill.
As we got closer Slim started to snort and throw a fit. So, I dismounted and tied him to a tree branch, and then I went on alone.
Our horses were gone, and I could also tell that the Injuns had quickly looted through the wagon.
Pa and Elliot were dead. They had been scalped, and they had also been stripped of their clothes.
It was real hard to see Pa and Elliot laying there that a-way, and it took me a long while to get myself pulled back together.
I finally went over to the wagon and hunted up Pa’s shovel. It took most the day, but I managed to dig two graves.
As it was getting dark I got them buried, and the whole time I worked I cried like a little kid. I was sure ashamed for carrying on like that, but looking back now, I don’t blame myself.
After that I just didn’t have the strength to do anything more.
I was wearing one of Pa’s old coats. I took the coat off and wrapped it around me, and I settled down beside the tree that Pa had chopped down and drifted off to sleep. Never before had I been so alone, and that night I felt real low.
I awoke early, and the first thing I did was to check on ol’ Slim.
He was still tied to the tree branch where I had left him, and he wasn’t very happy about it.
I hurried back to the wagon and poured him some water from the water barrel. He drank eagerly, and then I unsaddled and picketed him so he could graze.
After that I turned my attention to the wagon.
The Injuns had taken almost everything useful. But I did find a canteen, and I filled it with water from the barrel and looped it over my saddle-horn.
The false bottom was still intact, so I broke it open and took out the eight dollars that Pa had hid there. It wasn’t much, but at least I could buy some grub if I needed to.
It was near noon, so I rested in the shade and chewed some shredded jerky that I had in my saddlebags.
As I sat there I mulled over my current situation.
There wasn’t anything else I could do here. So, even though I hated to leave Pa and Elliot, it was time to go. I had enough grub to last a couple of days, and by then I planned on being back with the wagon train.
Catching that wagon train was the only thing on my mind. That, and seeing Tom Benson again.
Because of him, Pa and Elliot were dead.
I didn’t know how, but I was going to see that Benson paid for that, one w
ay or the other.
Chapter nine
I took one last look at Pa and Elliot’s graves, and then I took out in a brisk trot, going west.
Injuns were fresh on my mind, and I kept a wary eye out for them. But to my relief I didn’t see any sign of them.
The afternoon passed by fast.
Luckily the wind hadn’t blown much, and the wagon tracks were still real easy to follow. I had no idea how old the tracks were, for I hadn’t become a good tracker yet.
Along towards sundown I spotted a deer.
I thought about shooting him for the meat, but then I decided against it. The sound of a shot might attract unwanted visitors.
So instead, I found a little hidden gully to stop at for the night.
I unsaddled and picketed Slim, and then I made a dark camp.
I didn’t want to risk the light of a fire. Besides, I couldn’t have started a fire anyway. Pa had always used matches, but I didn’t have any.
It was then that I thought a frightening thought. Pa had taught me how to hunt and skin out a deer, and I had done it many a time. But that would do me no good, because I couldn’t cook the meat!
I had heard Pa talk before of starting a fire with flint and a knife, but I had neither.
I suddenly realized that I still had a lot to learn. Pa had taught me a lot, and for a boy of fourteen I reckon I did know more than most my age. But, when it came down to survival skills, I was still green.
I was miserable as I shuddered under Pa’s old coat. The land around me seemed real big, and I felt real small in it. I cried a lot, and I was real sore at myself for still carrying on like that, but I just couldn’t help it.
The sun woke me the next morning, and I was aggravated for sleeping so late. I took a long swig from my canteen, and then I saddled up Slim and pulled out going west.
The wind was blowing a little, and I was afraid that I would lose those wagon tracks.
I rode across a stream near midday.
I let Slim water out, and I poured out the old water from my canteen and refilled it with fresh, cool water.
I climbed back on Slim, and we pushed onward into the late afternoon.
I rode until it got so dark that I couldn’t see anymore, and then I stopped in a little draw that offered good cover.
I hardly slept at all that night. I kept having nightmares about Pa and Elliot being scalped and all, and the next morning I was restless and ready to move out.
To me it seemed like the wagon tracks looked fresher, and I was hopeful I would catch them sometime during the day.
The morning passed by uneventfully, and by midafternoon I was getting worried. My stomach was growling, but by now all my grub was gone.
I finally rode out onto a ridge and saw them below me. They were strung out in a long line, going forward steadily.
It was then that the feeling came flooding over me. Suddenly I was fighting mad, and all I could think about was Pa and Elliot being buried behind me when they should be here, alive and well.
I had a good view of the wagon train, and I looked it over carefully.
I was looking for someone in particular, and I finally found him.
Tom Benson was riding way up in front. He was alone, and that suited me just fine.
I pulled out my ivory handled six-shooter and made sure it was loaded right. I returned it to my holster, and then I kicked up Slim. He took off in a trot, and we rode down the ridge.
Chapter ten
I avoided the wagons and rode straight towards Tom Benson.
He saw me coming from a long ways off, and he pulled up his horse and looked curiously at me.
When I got closer he recognized me, and he was both irritated and surprised. Apparently, Benson had thought that he would never see any of us alive again.
“Where’s your Pa?” He asked roughly as I rode up.
“He’s dead, and so’s Elliot,” I said bitterly.
“What happened?”
“You killed ’em!” I replied sharply.
Benson narrowed his eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You sabotaged our wagon so you could have Mrs. Day all to yourself!” I said angrily.
“I did no such thing,” Benson declared, and his anger was starting to build. “You’d better get your facts straight, boy, or else you’ll have me to answer to.”
“You mean I’d best have my facts straight before the wagon train catches up,” I shot back.
“You watch your mouth,” Benson snarled. “Or else I’ll teach you some manners.”
I looked at Benson boldly, and my hand hovered over my gun handle.
“You try it and see just how far you get,” I said.
I was in trouble, but the feeling was pushing me on, and I just didn’t care.
“Soon as I can I’ll tell everybody what you did, and you’ll be facing a lynching party before suppertime.”
“I’ll kill you first!” Benson growled.
Benson and I stared at each other, and suddenly I saw a flicker in his eyes. His hand flew toward his gun, and I grabbed for my six-shooter.
Benson was a seasoned gunfighter, and he had his gun out and was firing away before I even had my six-shooter out of my holster.
I should have been shot dead. But, Benson’s sudden movements startled my horse, and Slim snorted and jumped sideways right as Benson fired.
I heard the sharp whip of a bullet as it flew by my ear, and then I had my Colt up and firing.
My first shot took Benson in the belly, and my second shot hit him dead center in the chest.
Benson’s face went wild with terror as the bullets’ impact threw him backwards. He hit the ground, and just like that he was dead.
The wagons pulled up behind us.
“What happened?” One of the men asked as several of them rushed up.
They took a look at Benson, and then they looked up at me.
“Why’d you kill him? Who drew first?” They asked.
I didn’t answer. It was starting to sink in that I had just killed a man, and I kept looking down in disbelief at Benson.
Everybody was still excited and demanding answers, but suddenly all I wanted was to get away.
I holstered my pistol, turned Slim around, and left.
Chapter eleven
I rode toward the wagons, and the first wagon I passed was the Jones’ wagon.
Jones was sitting in the seat, and he gave me a sour look.
“Did you kill Benson?” He asked.
“I did.”
Jones scowled.
“You must think you’re really something now.”
“No,” I replied curtly. “I only did what I had to do.”
“You messed things up, boy. You’ll pay for that.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, and I wasn’t in the mood to ask. So, I didn’t reply as I rode on.
I heard Mrs. Day calling out to me. I rode over to her wagon, and she asked me where Pa was.
“He’s dead, and so is Elliot,” I told her. “And, I just killed Tom Benson.”
“Oh no, Rondo!” She exclaimed, and her face filled with worry. “You’re so young!”
“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed. “But I’m not sorry I did it. Pa and Elliot are dead because of Benson.”
Mrs. Day was shocked and upset.
“I can’t believe it,” she kept saying. “I just can’t believe it!”
“Mrs. Day, Pa said if anything was to happen that I was to join up with you,” I said. “You reckon that’d be all right?”
“Of course you can, Rondo,” Mrs. Day replied. “You’re too young to be out on your own.”
So that’s how it was. I tied Slim to the back of the wagon, and I climbed up onto the seat and took the reins from Mrs. Day.
“I’ll earn my keep too,” I told her. “I’m a good shot, and I can hunt for us if you’d like.”
“That sounds fine,” Mrs. Day said. “We’ll get along, you and me. I’m glad
to have the company.”
“It’s what Pa wanted,” I replied.
Folks from the wagon train were digging a grave for Benson, but I didn’t help.
Mrs. Day wanted to know what had happened. So, I sat there and told her everything, ’cept I left out the part about Pa and Elliot being scalped and about how I cried both nights.
Mrs. Day listened real close, and afterwards she shook her head sadly.
“I just knew something bad had happened after ya’ll didn’t show up yesterday,” she said. “I asked Benson about it, but he just shrugged and said he reckoned that ya’ll must have gone on to Midway. But I knew better, ’cause your Pa would have said something to me. I tried hard to tell everybody that, but nobody would listen.”
Mrs. Day had tears in her eyes. I tried to think of something comforting to say, but I couldn’t come up with anything.
Soon they were through burying Benson.
As folks returned to their wagons I caught a few disapproving looks. In fact, a few of them even looked downright hateful.
We made a few more miles before we camped.
I was near starved, but I didn’t say anything. I figured we would eat soon after we stopped.
Nobody but Mrs. Day said anything to me, and I got the feeling that everybody was taking a big disliking to me. But that didn’t bother me, for I was used to that.
Mrs. Day felt it too, and she suggested that I stay close to the wagon after we made camp.
I agreed with her.
I wanted to show Mrs. Day that I was worth having around, so I made myself real busy when we finally did stop.
Mrs. Day started a fire, and while she cooked supper I unsaddled and picketed Slim and Mrs. Day’s team of horses.
As soon as supper was ready, we sat around the campfire and ate. Mrs. Day was a fine cook, and it was the best meal I’d had in days.
After supper, Mrs. Day brought me some blankets.
“You look tired, Rondo. Why don’t you get some sleep?” She suggested. “You can bed down under the wagon if you want.”
“Thanks, I reckon I am pretty near done in,” I told her as I gratefully took the blankets.
