Diamond Buckow

by A. J. Arnold

  Something pointed was pressing against Diamond’s ribs, moving in a circular pattern. Jake’s baritone voice finally penetrated, and the sharp toe of his boot stopped nudging.

  “If you don’t wake up, that damned hoss of yours will be in camp to help you. And if he’s as loud as he was yesterday, he’ll announce our position to the whole state of Colorado.”

  “HUH? ... Ohhh ... all right.” Diamond shook his head free of cobwebs and sat up.

  The chestnut gelding had already started for him. But when Bones saw the man get to his feet, he stopped short and grazed.

  Breakfast was a repeat of last night’s supper. The ranch partners swallowed it down, not tasting a bite. Diamond and Strickland were both considering how today would be the day. Each wondered if it would be his last.

  They didn’t lead their own two spare mounts separately this morning. Jake led the four unsaddled horses, which he’d tied head to tail. Diamond rode on ahead just to make sure that if anybody was surprised, it was the rustlers.

  Even so, they almost came up on the herd and gave themselves away. They’d been riding more than an hour, the sun three-quarters above the eastern horizon. Diamond went slowly over a low crest. A whole scene spread out before him: the large herd of cattle, five men getting them up off the bedding ground, a sixth securing cooking utensils onto a pack horse.

  The blue roan Diamond had saddled that morning started to dance sideways as his head came up. His rider took no chance of having their arrival on the ridge announced. Quietly, he backed the animal out of sight.

  Diamond ground-tied the blue well below the crest and worked his way up on foot to find out if he’d been seen. When he was satisfied he hadn’t been, he went back to inform Jake he’d found their cattle.

  “You got a plan?” was Strickland’s only question.

  “Not really. Let’s just follow along out of sight today. Maybe we’11 see some way tonight when they bed down. I know we don’t stand a chance if they see us before we hit ’em.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Diamond spent the day keeping the herd in sight and himself out of sight. The change in terrain, he thought at first, helped him as the rustlers got into the foothills of the Rockies. In fact, he realized it was really a mixed blessing.

  On the one hand, there was more cover to hide him while he watched over his cattle and the men who drove them. On the other, if the jaspers got wind of his following, it’d be easy to set up an ambush and cut him down.

  He wondered if the rustlers were nearing their destination, since they weren’t moving the animals hard this afternoon. An hour before sundown Diamond got his answer. The thieves pushed the cattle into a box canyon. Their camp at its mouth served as a stopper in a bottle. No need for them to watch the herd now, he saw.

  When he was sure, Diamond went back to find Jake. Together they got settled in a dry wash under an overhanging rock. But now that they were close, Strickland seemed to hold back. Diamond had never before seen such reluctance in him.

  His tone was persuasive. “I tell you, Jake, it’s made to order. These owlhoots think they’re alone. The very canyon that holds our cattle will be their trap.”

  “Sure,” Jake sneered. “Won’t be no trouble at all. We’ll just ride down on them and say, ‘Boys, we got you in a bind. Now we’re goin’ to take our cows and go home.’ And they’ll say, ‘Sorry, we thought they was all mavericks. Just cut out what’s yours and no hard feelings.’”

  Jake spat at the ground just past his boots. “That’s how it’ll be, all right, partner. No problems whatsoever.”

  Diamond shook off the negative note beneath all the sarcasm.

  “Come on, Jake. You’ll feel better about the whole thing when you see where they made camp. I want you to get a look before it’s too dark.”

  Strickland hauled himself to his feet with a loud sigh and mounted his horse.

  As they moved carefully toward the enemy he said, “I don’t know what’s wrong, seein’s how I’ve been in this kind of fight before. But somehow it just don’t feel right. The whole damned thing leaves me on edge.”

  They dismounted and ground-tied their horses at the foot of a slope.

  “Cheer up, Jake,” Diamond urged. “It’s going to be real easy. These men are so sure of themselves, they don’t keep proper watch. If they did, somebody would’ve seen me this morning when I first rode over that ridge in sight of their camp. True, the sun was at my back. But nevertheless, I’d have been spotted if even one of ’em was alert.”

  Strickland tossed his friend a look.

  “Jake, they could’ve ambushed me plenty of places as I rode along this afternoon.”

  There was no time for a retort. The pair dropped to their bellies and crawled to the top. Strickland suddenly felt better from what he saw. All six rustlers were in plain view. They had a small cookfire going, and off to the right was a roaring blaze that would have warmed the chill from the bones of the coldest-blooded thief who ever lived.

  “You see, Jake,” Diamond whispered. “They’re so sure of themselves they’re keeping no watch at all.”

  Since Strickland didn’t answer, he went on. “I had thought we could ride over this ridge just as the sun hit their camp. But what with the lay of the land, that wouldn’t be ’til long after most cattlemen are used to being up. So we’ll be right on the edge, there, when the first one comes out of his blanket. You on one side of the canyon opening and me on the other. If they put up a fight we’ll have ’em in a crossfire that’ll bottle up the whole bunch.”

  Jake grunted. Diamond took it for agreement, if not enthusiasm. Both men kept quiet as they went back for their horses and rode on to their own meager camp. Neither talked as they thoughtfully chewed on pieces of jerky.

  When they finished eating and began to clean their guns, Jake asked, “You sure of those six we seen around the fire? They’re the same ones been driving the cattle along?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. What are you thinking?” Diamond studied Strickland’s face the best he could in the fast-falling darkness. “Spit it out. If you got any doubts, let’s talk about them now.”

  After a long pause Jake answered. “I was just wondering about their buyer. If he sat in around the fire with five of ’em, that would free one to scout out you and me.”

  Diamond looked hard at his old friend. “If you don’t feel good about a fight with a bunch of rustlers, Jake, we’ll wait. Try to get our cattle back some other way. I heard something about the law in Colorado just last week in Dodge. Can’t remember rightly. But there’s got to be a sheriff or marshal for this part of the country. We could find out.”

  “No,” Strickland said stubbornly. “We got to do it ourselves, no matter my feelings. By the time we hunted up the law and brought him back, these drivers would be gone. And so would our herd.”

  A lingering silence accompanied the partners while they finished with their weapons. Finally Jake asked, “Wonder who that buyer is? And, are these jaspers so late with the cattle that he’s been here and gone? Or hasn’t he been here yet at all?”

  Diamond answered fast. He was glad to talk, because he didn’t like the tum his own thoughts had taken.

  “The rustlers don’t seem worried. I’d wager they know that if the buyer’s come and gone, he’ll be back.”

  “What’re you goin’ to do if he shows up while we’re still here?”

  “Don’t know, Jake. I’m not sure I’d want to learn who he is. He’s got to realize he’s buying rustled beef. Does that make him as guilty as those who stole ’em in the first place?”

  “You’re damned right,” the top hand shot back. No trace of hesitation hung onto his words now. “It makes him even worse, in my opinion. I say if that buyer comes along, we string him up with all the others. No never-mind who he is.”

  Diamond stared into the dark that surrounded them. He could feel the scars on his neck burning as they had not in several years. Suddenly he couldn’t get enough air to breathe. He felt himsel
f choking to death, his leather riata holding him back while his mount was forced from under him. Real, real as a long-ago day beneath an old cottonwood tree...

  Diamond heard a raw gasping cough, felt Jake pounding him on the back. He filled his lungs and jolted into the present, taking several deep breaths.

  Anxiously, Strickland demanded, “You OK now, pard?”

  Diamond swallowed with difficulty, his Adam’s-apple tight. He answered, but not to Jake’s last question.

  “I don’t think I can hang anybody for stealing cattle. I might kill more’n one tomorrow in the heat of battle, if they put up a fight. But not with a rope over a tree limb.”

  He paused, staring out into the night. “Jake, it’s not only you. I’ve had this strange feeling every time I’ve hid behind a rock or tree and looked down on those owlhoots driving our herd. It’s like...I don’t know. Like I keep remembering that time I was helping drive rustled cattle and didn’t even know they were stolen. What if there was somebody down there I used to know?”

  Strickland glanced up. “Did you recognize anybody? Is that what’s botherin’ you?”

  “Damn it all, Jake, I don’t know! The one riding point sits his saddle like a fellow I was teamed up with on that drive. Name of Russ, a mostly decent sort. I tried like anything to be sure, but I’m not. I even rode ahead aways and hid. Waited for him to pass so I could see him. But by the time I could’ve made him out, he’d dropped back on the far side of the herd.”

  “Then what?”

  “Somebody else took his place. A young kid, maybe sixteen or so. Just about the age I was when Glenn Saltwell tricked me into driving rustled cattle. I could see his face, Jake. He had blond hair and that innocent, but smart-assed cocky look that all green runaways have.”

  Strickland heard the pain, thought on it, cleared his throat.

  “What’s your estimate, Diamond? How many head are we following here?”

  “Real hard to reckon. Our fifteen hundred’s ’way over half. There’s maybe two thousand, twenty-two hundred all together.”

  Diamond couldn’t see his partner’s sour face, but Jake’s tone was unmistakable.

  “You figured out how us two is goin’ to take that many back home?”

  Diamond stared blankly through the dark at him. Jake sensed it as he retreated, muttering, inside himself.

  Both men felt chilled for their own separate reasons. They rolled without any more words in their sleeping blankets.

  The rustlers’ camp was in the center of the mouth of the box canyon, with no rocks or trees in range where the partners could take cover. I was no advantage, but Diamond had seen a small stream at the base off the right wall. Couldn’t help but think of his herd, even now.

  He’d lain awake most of the night going over and over the whole thing. This morning he made his decision: they’d try to get their cattle back without bloodshed. He reasoned that if he and Jake were in place before light revealed their movements, they could get their breeding herd without killing anyone. After they’d disarmed the rustlers and possession of what was theirs, why should they care what the jaspers did?

  Diamond and Strickland moved into position before any hint of light entered the camp. Now Diamond watched the sleeping forms while the sky brightened over the eastern ridge. He stood at the very edge of the thieves’ encampment, with Jake a third of the way around to the other side.

  The first rays of the sun touched the top of the rock wall on the western side of the box. Each looked once to the other to make sure of where his partner was, neither betraying what he felt pulsing through him.

  It was now light enough to count. Only five men slept within sight. Where in hell was the sixth rustler? Diamond agonized. Things like this could get a fellow killed!

  The sunlight crept slowly down the rock wall, then walked at the even-measured pace of eternity along the floor of the canyon. It hit some of the cattle and they lumbered to their feet, stretching before they began to graze.

  Diamond knew there was no turning back now. Daylight reached the horses of the rustlers. At least two mounts were alerted to the new presence in their camp this morning. One black in particular had its eyes glued to the motionless manshape nearby.

  Diamond knew this animal would sound an alarm if he or Jake moved. With his nerves like a taut bowstring, he shifted his eyes to the blanketed lumps of sleeping men.

  One of the rustlers threw his cover off. He came slowly to his knees and stretched his hands above his head. Freezing wild-eyed, he realized he was looking down the barrel of a sixgun less than twenty feet away.

  With his left hand, Diamond signalled the man to silence, then motioned him to stand up. As he carefully obeyed, Diamond felt a surge of confidence. He and Jake could do it.

  But the longrider in the bedroll at his extreme left exploded into action. He hurried his shot overmuch, and Diamond felt a heavy chunk of lead whistle through the air past his head even before he heard the report. As he swung to cover the prone shooter the whole encampment broke into turmoil.

  He saw the flash of the second man’s shot and triggered into it, making one less rustler. The fellow who’d wakened first reversed himself and dived back toward his bedding for his own iron. It was becoming suicidal to stand still, so Diamond hit the ground to his right, rolling over once.

  As he came up with his gun hungry for a target, he heard a well-remembered crude laugh. He could see once more a pair of twin brothers. The one called Clem was guffawing as he tightened the noose around the neck of a scared boy. Then it wasn’t memory. Clem was here, grinning and shooting at him. Diamond aimed carefully, putting two forty-five slugs into the twin’s chest.

  He could tell that Jake had emptied his first gun and had started using the lighter weapon he carried. His own iron failed to buck in his hand. Empty also. Funny, he didn’t remember shooting that many times. He swiftly dropped it into his holster, rolled to his left, and pulled the other forty-five from out of his waistband.

  Now he saw the second brother. Willy looked terrified even in all the uproar, but he was still holding his own in the fight. The twin got onto his knees and aimed a rifle at Jake Strickland. A fraction of a second after he got his shot off, Diamond swung his own gun and fired.

  Clem’s brother dropped his iron and sprawled face-down on the sod. Diamond hove to his feet and walked toward him. Willy lay in an unmistakable rag-doll pose. Diamond turned, searching for his partner. Jake was down. God—but no, he moved.

  Strickland struggled upright, gun in hand, still in the fray. He fired off to Diamond’s right just as Diamond felt a hot flame across his shoulders. Wheeling, he was just in time to see the sixteen-year-old go down with a look of exquisite pain and surprise.

  Suddenly it was still. The quiet was as deafening as the roar of guns had been. Diamond waited. Was it over? He was the only man on his feet. Strickland had slid down onto his knees.

  “How bad you hit, Jake?” His voice sounded strange and loud in his ears.

  The top hand’s answer came slow but strong. “Don’t think it’s serious. If you’re able, you’d best check they’re all dead. I can cover you from here.”

  Diamond was sure of the twins, but he still turned them over with the toe of his boot. Something nagged a warning at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t straighten out what it was.

  Next he came to the rustler who’d wakened first on this bloodfilled morning. The man had taken two slugs, one in the chest and one in the back, caught in the crossfire between himself and Jake.

  The runaway kid hadn’t moved, and would not. Diamond looked at him for a long minute, his stomach knotting. He moved on to a heap he didn’t want to roll over but knew he had to. As the limp dishrag figure flopped onto its back, the face of his old riding partner Russ turned up to the morning sun, blood matting his hair.

  So this was how he went straight once he got his stake, Diamond thought bitterly. And if Russ was here now, where in hell was Glenn Saltwell? As he stood wondering, he be
came aware that the victim’s chest moved just a little.

  He shot a grim look up at Jake. “This here’s Russ, that I used to know, all right. And he’s still alive.”

  Diamond glanced back down. Russ had opened his glazed eyes. A hurried examination proved that his only wound was the one on his head. Diamond gritted his teeth as he moved aside the sticky wet masses of hair.

  He discovered a long open groove where a bullet had traveled along the top of Russ’s head, parting his hair and laying the scalp open. It was evident that the lead hadn’t entered. Diamond could plainly see white bone for a three-inch stretch.

  Strickland limped over to his friend, obviously favoring his left side.

  “If an Indian was to happen by now, he’d not have much trouble gettin’ that feller’s scalp off,” he observed.

  “You’re right. If Russ lives, something’ll have to be done to hold it together until it heals. But what about you, Jake? Where’d you get hit?”

  “Left side, went clean through. I plugged the hole front and back. Think it broke a rib. Hurts like hell, but it’ll mend.”

  Diamond had to smile at Jake’s confidence before a sound from Russ caught his attention.

  The man on the ground moved his lips in pain and gasped, “Drink, drink.”

  Diamond looked at Strickland. “You stay with him, I’ll get some water.”

  He hurried to the stream at the base of the canyon wall. On his way back with a canteen of fresh water, that bothersome feeling crawled over him again with a deathly chill. He’d forgotten something important. What was it? He gave the cool liquid to Strickland and voiced his fear out loud.

  “I was wondering when you’d come around to notice,” Jake said dryly as he helped the injured man to drink from the canteen.

  “There’s not but five of ’em here.”

  “That’s it,” Diamond agreed as a sinking feeling hit his gut.

  “I’d noticed that just before the lead started to fly, but then I was so busy I forgot. What could’ve happened to the other one?”