Confessions of a Gunfighter (The Landon Saga Book 1)

by Tell Cotten

  I bedded down, and as soon as my head hit the ground I was sleeping hard. But, it seemed like no time at all when I felt Mrs. Day shaking me urgently.

  “Wake up, Rondo, quick!”

  I opened my eyes and saw that it was still dark.

  “Yes, ma’am? What is it, Mrs. Day?”

  “You have to leave now!” She spoke in a hushed voice. “That Jones fellow is doing a lot of talking, and he’s saying you murdered Tom Benson. They want to hang you!”

  “Hang me!” I was suddenly wide-awake. “But it was a fair fight. He even drew first!”

  “It’s your word against his, and he was a friend of theirs,” she hastily explained.

  I was careful not to make much noise as I crawled out from underneath the wagon.

  I saw a huge campfire burning near the center of the wagons, and a big crowd had gathered around it. I could hear them talking, and it didn’t sound good.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked Mrs. Day.

  “Don’t you worry about me; I can take care of myself,” Mrs. Day replied. “Now listen. I already saddled your horse, and I put some extra food in your saddlebags. Your canteen is full, so you’d best be going.”

  I stayed in the darkness beside the wagon as I buckled my gun belt and pulled on my boots, and then Mrs. Day rushed me to Slim.

  “I don’t think they’ll follow you, but I would keep going for a while anyway,” she instructed. “And make sure and watch for Indians. They’re still about, you know.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said as I climbed up onto Slim.

  “Go back east, Rondo, and maybe somebody can help you there,” Mrs. Day said, still trying to help me as best as she could.

  There wasn’t much time. Loud voices from the campfire were approaching, so I looked down at Mrs. Day.

  “Thanks for everything, Mrs. Day. I sure hope you find what you’re looking for in California.”

  “You take care of yourself, Rondo,” Mrs. Day said, and her face was worried looking. “Now go!”

  I kicked up Slim and trotted out.

  As soon as I reached the outskirts of camp I heard a shout, and a second later there was a thundering boom.

  A bullet flew by my head, and I ducked as Slim raced forward. A few more shots were fired in desperation, but they were way off target.

  Slim was spooked, and we ran wild for a long time. The lights of the campfires became smaller, and finally we were alone, swallowed up in the darkness.

  It was one of those clear, summer nights, and the moon was full. Slim was full of energy and wanting to travel, so I gave him his head and we put some distance between the wagon train and us.

  As we rode I gave my current situation some serious thought.

  Before I’d had the hope of joining up with Mrs. Day. But now, I had nothing.

  That made me feel low. But, I forced myself not to cry about it, for that wouldn’t help the situation any.

  Mrs. Day had told me to go back east. But, the more I thought about that, the more I started deciding against it. I had always wanted to come out west, and now that I was here I saw no need to go back.

  My dream had always been to get a ranch job breaking broncs, and that’s what I decided to try and do now. Somehow, I would get over to Midway and see if I could get a job with J.T. Tussle. If he was going to give a job to Pa then why not me?

  The first problem I had was that I had no idea where Midway was. All Pa had said was that it was out west on the Texas Plains.

  That was a lot of country, and what I needed were directions.

  I remembered then the frontier settlement that we had passed a few days back.

  I figured my best bet would be to ride back to that settlement and ask for directions. Then, I would buy enough grub to last the trip and ride on to Midway.

  All that might have sounded easy, but I knew it was going to be a lot harder than it sounded.

  Chapter twelve

  I traveled on through the night, and when it got daylight I pulled up my horse.

  I watered and picketed Slim, and then I bedded down. I still had Pa’s old coat tied behind my saddle, and I used it as a blanket.

  I slept most the day. I woke up hungry, so I ate some of the grub that Mrs. Day had packed.

  Before I knew it I had eaten nearly half of what I had. I was sure sore at myself, because I needed that grub to last.

  Along towards dark I climbed up on Slim and rode out. The moon was still shining real bright, and I could see my surroundings just fine.

  I had decided as long as the full moon lasted that I would ride during the night. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I had heard that Injuns didn’t like fighting at night.

  The night before I had circled way out and had found the wagon tracks.

  I had figured on back tracking them all the way to the settlement, but by now the tracks were just about gone. Sometime during the night I completely lost them, and by daylight I was lost as I could be.

  I holed up again for the day.

  But I didn’t sleep. Instead, I sat around and tried to think.

  Pa had taught me how to navigate at night by using the stars, so I wasn’t confused on what direction I was going. But, even though I was riding east I could still miss that settlement by miles!

  And I needed to find that settlement quick, because by now all my grub was gone.

  I tried all day to come up with a solution, but by evening time I still hadn’t figured anything out. I’d just have to ride east and hope to get lucky.

  I got ready to leave, but just before I mounted up I saw Injuns.

  They were miles away, and they were riding in the other direction. I stayed still and watched them until they were out of sight.

  Those Injuns made me nervous, and I stayed put until well after dark. The moon came out and the coyotes were howling before I finally climbed up on Slim and rode out.

  I rode east all through the night, and when it got daylight I kept ol’ Slim in a slow walk.

  I didn’t see the point in stopping. I was sure getting hungry, and I figured before long I would have to try and hunt something with my six-shooter. I still didn’t know how to start a fire, so I figured I’d just have to eat it raw.

  At least I wasn’t thirsty. There were small creeks scattered about all over the place, and several times during the day I stopped and watered out.

  Darkness hit, but I still kept ol’ Slim a-going on.

  Slim was getting tired. But, he seemed to sense the urgency of the situation, and he kept plodding forward.

  However, sometime near midnight Slim started limping. I pulled up and discovered that he had lost a shoe.

  I climbed back up on Slim, and we took out in a slow walk. We went a mile or two further, but then he started limping even worse.

  I got really scared then. If I were to lose Slim I’d be a-foot, and I wouldn’t last long that a-way.

  I had just decided to stop when we suddenly rode up on a horse. He was picketed out for the night, and he had his head down and was grazing.

  I jumped in the saddle while he snorted and looked wildly at us.

  He was a good-looking horse. From the looks of it he had just had a long day’s ride, for he was covered in dried sweat.

  The first thing that crossed my mind was Injuns.

  I grabbed my Colt pistol, and then I rode in a big circle as I searched for the Injun’s camp.

  I didn’t find anything, and I was heading back to the horse when I heard a loud snore.

  I got down on foot, and that’s when I found a well-hidden cowboy that was sleeping in some nearby bushes.

  He had his bedroll rolled out, and he was sleeping hard. The remains of a small campfire was close beside him, and I also noticed several cans of canned food.

  My stomach growled, but I was careful.

  “Hello the camp!” I called out.

  He never moved, and I stood beside Slim not knowing what to do.

  I gave the camp another going o
ver and decided to try again.

  “Hello the camp!”

  There was no move, no nothing.

  I left Slim and carefully approached him.

  “Say, are you dead?” I asked.

  This time I got a grunt, but then he fell back into a heavy snore. Whoever this cow-puncher was, he was dead tired, that was for sure.

  I turned back to Slim and led him to the other horse, and I unsaddled and picketed him out. Then, I pulled my canteen off my saddle and returned to the camp.

  The cowboy was still out cold, so I sat across from him and hungrily looked at those cans of food.

  Mebbe he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a few cans, I thought.

  I was near starved, so I didn’t figure I should waste anymore time trying to wake him up and ask him.

  There was a knife by the fire, and I used it to open a can of peaches. I took a sip of the juice, and then I grabbed a peach.

  Those cans of food weren’t near as good as Mrs. Day’s cooking. But, it sure did hit the spot. I gulped down one can after another, and before I knew it I had downed seven cans. I hoped this cowboy was the sharing kind, because I just about cleaned him out of food.

  After I’d eaten, I took a long pull from my canteen and washed my food on down. Then, I leaned against a log, full and satisfied.

  “Thanks, mister,” I said softly. “You don’t know it, but I reckon you just saved my life.”

  I knew I should leave, but I was so comfortable that I sure hated to. My eyelids started to get heavy, and as I sat there listening to the cowboy snore I could barely stay awake.

  I took another look at him, and that’s when I noticed his bedroll. That bedroll was so big that two people could fit in it!

  It was then that I made up my mind. I would sleep for a bit and then pull out before he woke up.

  I pulled my boots off, and I quietly slipped underneath the edge of his bedroll.

  As I did I noticed a Henry rifle and a Colt six-shooter lying by his side, and I knew that I was taking a big chance in not waking him up.

  But I was just too tired to care. And besides, that bedroll was the most comforting thing that I had ever bedded down in.

  My head hit the ground and then I was out, sleeping almost as hard as the man beside me.

  Chapter thirteen

  Next thing I knew, it was daylight.

  I relaxed a bit before I remembered where I was.

  My eyes shot upwards, and I found myself looking directly into the face of the cow-puncher. He was sitting up, smoking a cigarette and looking at me with a real curious look.

  It was silent as we stared at each other, and then the cow-puncher took a long drag on his cigarette.

  “Well, Button, looks like you stayed out late last night,” he said in a soft, Texas drawl.

  I studied his face. He didn’t seem to be mad, so I relaxed a bit.

  “Pretty late,” I agreed. “And, when I got here you was sleeping so hard I figured I’d just let you sleep.”

  He smiled at that and shook his head, kinda ashamed like.

  “Yes, well, I usually don’t sleep that a-way, but I reckon I was pretty much done for.”

  Suddenly, he laughed out loud. I was surprised, and I jumped.

  “I’ll tell you something, Button. Over the years I’ve woke up with all sorts of critters in bed with me, but this is a first. I think my ol’ heart even stopped beating when I rolled over and saw you.”

  I felt my face getting red, but before I could say anything the cowboy’s face got dark and serious.

  “Button, you should know better than to go sneaking around in the dark. If I hadn’t been passed out I would’ve blown your head off.”

  I stiffened.

  “You were sleeping so hard somebody could’ve blown your head off too,” I replied.

  The cowboy thought on that, and his face lit back up.

  “You’re right, Button. Reckon we was both lucky.”

  It was then that I noticed his shoulder. It was bandaged, and the bandages were soaked with blood.

  “You’re hurt. Is it bad?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Naw, its just a little scratch, is all,” he replied.

  He reached up and patted it, as if to show me.

  “See? I’ll be good as new in a few days.”

  “What happened?” I asked without thinking. “Did you get into a gunfight?”

  The cowboy chose his words carefully.

  “Me and another feller just agreed different, is all.”

  “Oh,” I said as I sat up and stretched.

  “You hungry?” He asked. “I’ll cook us up some breakfast, if’n you’d like.”

  “I could sure eat,” I replied quickly.

  “I know you can eat,” the cowboy grinned, and he reached over and gave the empty cans of food a tap with his finger.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” I said guiltily. “I only meant to eat a couple of cans, but I was near starved.”

  “Forget it,” he waved his hand at me.

  He rolled out of bed and pulled his boots on, and as he did I looked him over.

  The first thing I noticed was his size. He was taller than most, and was real stout looking too. I guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, but it was hard to tell.

  His face was dark and weathered. But he was also very handsome looking, and he had a boyish look when he smiled.

  But most of all, I noticed how at ease he was with himself. He seemed to be real comfortable in his surroundings, and I knew then that this was the sort of feller I could learn something from.

  There was one other thing about him that I found to be both interesting and a mite odd. I didn’t see it at first, but when he squatted on his heels to restart the campfire I got a good look at his scalp.

  From a-far it looked like he had a full set of curly brown hair, but a closer look told me otherwise.

  In the middle of his scalp he was bald, and it had a rubbery and slick look to it. The skin was a bright pink, and it looked like a hot pan of biscuits had been cooked right on top of his head.

  I couldn’t help but stare at it, but I finally made myself look away. And none too quick, because as soon as I did the cowboy looked up and flashed me a grin.

  “Soon as I get this fire started back up I’ll have us some breakfast cooking in no time,” he said.

  The cow-puncher stirred the coals, and after he got our breakfast cooking he glanced curiously at me.

  “So, Button, why are you traveling out here all alone? Don’t you know this is Injun country?”

  I hesitated, but then I shrugged and told him everything. That is, ’cept the part about me crying those nights. I didn’t figure that was any of his business.

  By the time I finished, breakfast was ready.

  “Dig in,” he offered.

  I didn’t wait for a second invitation. I filled my plate, and soon after I was eating a big slab of meat.

  “Tom Benson, eh?” The cowboy commented. “Heard of him. Even though he was a no good Yankee, he was still considered to be a salty character.”

  “I reckon he was,” I said as I gulped down some coffee. “He outdrew me, that’s for sure.”

  “You have to make your first shot count,” the cowboy declared. “Benson didn’t, but you did, and that’s why he’s dead instead of you. You showed a lot of sand, standing up to him like you did.”

  I shrugged as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

  “Didn’t give it any thought, to tell you the truth,” I said. “’Cause of him Pa and Elliot were killed by Injuns, and that’s all that was on my mind.”

  “I bet it was Comanches that killed your folks,” the cowboy declared, and suddenly his face was real hateful looking. “Them, or Kiowas.”

  “Don’t reckon I could say,” I admitted. “All Injuns look alike to me.”

  “Well, you stay in these parts very long and you’ll learn mighty quick,” the cowboy grunted.

  After that we didn’t talk as we finished breakfast.
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  But, every once in a while the cowboy would glance at me, as if he was sizing me up or something. It made me nervous, because I didn’t know what he was thinking.

  Finally, he cleared his throat.

  “So, what are your plans now, Button?”

  “I aim to find me a ranch job,” I told him.

  The cowboy raised an eyebrow.

  “Is that a fact? You ever punch cows before?”

  I felt my face getting red.

  “No, but I’m real good with horses. Back home I used to break all the broncs.”

  The cowboy was silent as he thought on that.

  “Tell me, Button. How old are you?”

  “Going on fifteen,” I replied.

  “Hmm,” the cowboy said.

  It fell silent again, and I got that nervous feeling again.

  “Tell you what, Button,” he finally said. “Why don’t you ride with me for a while? What you need is an education, and I don’t mean book learning and doing figures. You need the sort of education a feller like myself can give you. I can show you how to become a man.”

  “My Pa already taught me that,” I told him, feeling confused.

  “Mebbe on the inside, but not on the outside,” the cowboy explained. “From what you just told me, I’d have to say your survival skills ain’t exactly what I’d call satisfactory.”

  “I reckon you could say that,” I admitted.

  “I can teach you how to stay alive, Button, and I can also teach you other things that’ll come in mighty handy. I can show you how to read sign, and also how to follow a trail, even if it’s weeks old. I can show you how to always find game, and I can also show you how to use a gun, and I mean really use a gun.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I laughed hesitantly. “My Pa said I was the best shot he’d ever seen.”

  “You might can hit what you’re aiming at, but that doesn’t mean you can really handle a gun,” the cowboy said. “And you’d better know how if you want to make it for very long out here. You said it yourself that Benson outdrew you, and if your horse hadn’t been startled you’d be dead. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

  “I’m hoping there ain’t a next time,” I replied.