North to Montana

by Colin Bainbridge

  ‘Hello, fella,’ she said. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

  The dog whimpered and leaped up at her, licking her face. She moved her head and, despite her dire situation, managed to laugh. The dog was sniffing at her and then he barked and shuffled away into the bushes. She turned her head but couldn’t see him. Moments later she felt something wet on her wrists and thought for a moment that they were bleeding afresh when she heard sniffling and panting sounds and realized it was the dog.

  ‘Good boy,’ she said, a wild hope suddenly flaring up inside her. The dog was biting and worrying at the rope and she could feel it begin to fray. She tugged hard and suddenly the rope split. Her hands were free! Leaning forward, she started to undo the ropes tying her feet. The knots were tight and the task was difficult. She kept glancing about for any of the gunslicks but the sporadic sounds of gunfire a little way off assured her that they were fully occupied. But for how long? The dog was running about and jumping at her while she struggled with her bindings. Her fingernails clawed at the knots and broke with the effort but at last she had loosed them enough to be able to slip her feet free. With an effort she managed to pull herself up, supported by the trunk of the tree, as the last coils of rope fell away from her. The first thing she did was to bend down and stroke the dog.

  ‘Good boy, Midway,’ she said over again. ‘What a good dog.’

  She considered the matter. Should she try and get away from Gunter and his men, or should she seek the shelter of the trees and brush? She decided that to seek shelter was the best thing to do, even if it meant staying in the vicinity. She stamped the numbness from her feet and when she felt she was ready, moved back into the trees, followed by the dog.

  Once they had put a little distance between themselves and the ranch-house, Nation and his two companions brought their horses to a halt.

  ‘OK,’ Nation said, ‘so far, so good. Now the time’s come to split up and try to get behind Gunter and his men. Take the position of the ranch-house as your guide.’

  Quitman and the doc nodded. Turning their horses, they began to spread out. Behind them the sounds of fresh gunfire were stifled by the intervening woods. Ahead of Nation the trees thinned and he emerged into comparatively open country. He spurred his horse and rode hard, keeping his eyes open for any sign of the gunslicks. The sounds of battle now came from a different direction and he knew his plan of outflanking Gunter’s men was working. He topped a short rise and had his first clear glimpse of what was taking place at the ranch-house. It was obvious where Gunter’s men had taken up position. He only had to find cover within range of them to create a fresh angle of assault. Choosing a patch of brush, he dropped from the saddle, took his Winchester and opened fire. He could see immediately that his onslaught was effective. Shots were returned but it seemed the gunnies had only a vague idea as to where he was concealed. Presently he heard other shots coming from nearby and he knew that Quitman and the doc had joined in the struggle. He smiled grimly as he jammed more cartridges into the chamber of the rifle. His plan was clearly working and he was feeling confident of the outcome.

  The volume of lead that was being flung in his direction had lessened and he decided to take up a position among the trees nearer to the ranch-house. He mounted his horse and moved down through the brush into the woods until eventually he slid from the saddle. He began to creep forwards. Suddenly he froze. Through the muffled sounds of gunfire he thought he had heard footsteps. He took position behind a tree and waited. He wasn’t mistaken. Someone was close by, maybe more than one. Had they detected his presence? Perhaps they had found the horse. He peered through the undergrowth and caught a glimpse of something yellow. He was concentrating so hard that he didn’t hear anything from his rear till the click of a rifle told him someone had the drop on him.

  ‘Throw down the rifle!’ a voice snapped.

  He did as he was ordered. When he had done so he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Before he could turn, his arms were seized and he was held by two men in a vice-like grip. A third man approached him; his instinct told him that it was Gunter. When the man spoke he was proved correct.

  ‘Unless I’m mistaken,’ he said, ‘I believe I’ve caught up with the elusive Mr Nation at last.’ Nation’s lips remained closed. ‘Yes, I think I would recognize you even though I only caught a glimpse of you that night in Gunsmoke. You’ve proved to be quite a nuisance.’

  He advanced and felt in Nation’s pockets as if for confirmation. In a few moments his hand emerged with the attorney’s letter. Quickly, he read it through.

  ‘So you’re now the owner of the Forty-Five,’ he said. ‘It’s all beginnin’ to fit into place.’

  Nation did not attempt to deny his identity. He could see there was no point. He decided to confront Gunter directly.

  ‘What happened to Cliff and Henrietta Nation?’ he said.

  Gunter’s lip curled in an ugly leer.

  ‘Haven’t you heard?’ he replied. ‘They died in an unfortunate accident.’

  ‘An accident? That’s not the way I figure it.’

  Gunter drew back his hand and hit Nation hard. ‘So how do you figure it?’ he snarled.

  Nation’s lip was split and blood trickled down his chin. Suddenly Gunter laughed.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you how it happened. You’re gonna die real soon anyway. It’ll give me a lot of pleasure to enlighten you. You’re right. It was no accident. I fixed that buggy to overturn and I made sure I was on hand to finish them off. Just in case. Oh, don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t my idea. I admit I wasn’t clever enough for that. No, it was Rackham who thought it out, but I was more than happy to go along with it. Now he’s got the Grab All. It’s worked out fine for both of us.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ Nation replied. ‘While you were out of the way lookin’ for me, he put Schultz in charge.’

  Gunter’s leer was replaced by a look of fury. Drawing back his fist, this time he brought it crashing into the pit of Nation’s stomach. He would have collapsed but for the men holding him up. For the briefest moment he thought of appealing to them but he knew it was useless. They were some of Gunter’s chosen cronies. Through the pain and nausea he saw Gunter’s gun-hand come up and he prepared himself for the bullet that would end his life. Gunter drew back the hammer. At the same moment, out of the corner of his eye, Nation saw a brownish form land on Gunter and cling to his arm. Gunter yelled, trying to shake it off. One of the men pinioning Nation relaxed his hold and in that instant Nation seized his chance.

  Tearing himself free, he turned and smashed his fist into the gunnie’s face. The man reeled backwards and as he did so Nation ducked and drove at the other’s stomach with his head. He felt the heavy impact as the man crumpled. Both men reached for their side-irons but, before either succeeded in drawing them, Nation’s six-gun was in his hand and spitting lead. He heard barking and snarling sounds and realized that the brown object he had seen was Midway. A shot rang out and he gasped in pain as a bullet grazed his hand and the Colt fell to the floor. He looked up. Gunter had shaken off the dog and was standing with a grin on his face and his gun pointing at Nation’s chest. Nation saw something else as well, and tried his best not to let his eyes give away the fact that standing just behind Gunter was Double-Cinch Annie. She held a tree branch in her hand and as Gunter became dimly aware of her presence she brought it crashing down on his head. He remained standing for a moment till a glazed look came into his eyes; he took one step forward and then toppled to the ground. For a moment Nation and Annie stood gazing at each other in disbelief till the spell broke and she ran forward to collapse in his arms. He held her tight, scarcely noticing the pain in his hand till she drew apart and took it in her own.

  ‘You’ve been hit,’ she exclaimed. He glanced down. His hand was a bloody mess. ‘Here, let me bandage it,’ she said.

  When she had dressed the wound using a bandana, Nation checked on the men he had been forced to shoot. They were both dea
d. He turned to Gunter. He was unconscious but still breathing.

  ‘My horse is just at the back of those trees,’ he said to Annie. ‘Can you fetch it while I see to Gunter?’

  He swiftly tied Gunter’s hands behind his back with his bandana and then, as the man began to come round, dragged him to his feet.

  ‘OK, Gunter,’ he ordered. ‘Time we put a stop to this fightin’.’

  Back at the ranch-house, the battle continued without either side gaining the upper hand. A couple of Schultz’s men had been hit but so far nobody had died. They were putting up a brave show, but it wasn’t their forte. Only Muleskin seemed to be positively enjoying it.

  ‘Ain’t had a scrap like this since the time the Cranford gang held up the Hollenberg stage and tried to take over the way-station,’ he said. ‘They were sure good times.’ He looked about him. ‘Say, you ain’t seen Midway anywhere?’ he asked. Schultz shook his head. ‘I guess the old fella can take care of himself,’ Muleskin added. ‘He used to appreciate a good scrap too. Why—’ Further conversation came to an abrupt end as a bullet thudded into the shutter a couple of inches from his nose.

  It was getting along in the afternoon when Schultz became aware that something new was happening. The shooting had been sporadic for some time but suddenly it had ceased altogether. A strange air of expectancy hung over the ranch. He looked out of the window frame but could see nothing. The men beside him wore somewhat puzzled expressions. Then he thought he heard the faint steady drum of hoof-beats. He returned to the window and peered out once more and this time he was rewarded by a strange and unexpected sight: a man with a rifle leading a horse on which another man was fastened by his wrists. It seemed to Schultz that the first man was taking a big risk but it didn’t seem to bother him. The man on the horse, on the other hand, looked scared as he glanced anxiously about him.

  Schultz’s attention was riveted. He stared more closely and then started back; the man on the horse was Gunter and the man leading it was Nation! He came to a halt outside the ranch-house.

  ‘Listen, everybody!’ he shouted. ‘The show’s over. If anyone tries anything, Gunter dies.’

  Gunter’s look expressed his terror. Nation muttered something to him and, in an unsteady voice, Gunter yelled:

  ‘Do as he says!’

  ‘Lay down your arms and come out of hidin’!’ Nation ordered. ‘This affair is finished!’

  Schultz could hardly believe what he was seeing. After a short interlude a few of Gunter’s gunslicks began to emerge. Others followed and some of his own men also started to come out from the barn and outhouses. He licked his lips and instinctively tightened his grip on the rifle. He was expecting trouble at any moment but nothing happened. The men started to acknowledge one another grudgingly. It was apparent that Gunter’s gunnies had no real loyalty towards him. They seemed quite happy to call it a day. Taking his cue, he walked to the door and stepped outside. He stood on the veranda, looking down on Nation and his prisoner.

  ‘Good to see you back again, Nation,’ he said. ‘Looks like you’ve won the day.’

  ‘You and me between us,’ Nation replied. He waved his gun for Gunter to get down from the horse, which he managed to do very awkwardly.

  ‘You got somewhere we can put this varmint till he can be taken to the nearest jailhouse?’ Nation asked.

  Schultz’s face broke into a wry grin. ‘I reckon we can find someplace,’ he said.

  Chapter Six

  A few days had gone by. Nation was keen to move on to Montana but he realized that it made sense for them to lie up for a while. He and Annie needed some time to recover from their injuries. Her ankle wasn’t as bad as she had at first feared and the doctor had done a good job on his hand. He had been fortunate; the bullet had torn along his palm without causing serious damage. All the same, it was his gun hand and he doubted that he would ever be so nimble on the draw again. The real hero of the hour was Midway and he was having the time of his life. For Schultz and his Grab All ranch-hands, things had turned out well. However, Schultz was left with mixed feelings about Rackham. It was hard for him to realize that Rackham was not the man he had taken him to be, despite the evidence of having men like Gunter and Denton in his service.

  On the evening of the day following the battle, they sat on the veranda of the ranch-house drinking coffee. The sun’s disc hovered just above the horizon and a cool breeze had sprung up, shaking the leaves of the trees.

  ‘Do you still intend goin’ after Rackham?’ Schultz said.

  ‘That is our intention,’ Nation replied.

  Schultz took a mouthful of the steaming black liquid and swallowed hard. ‘Well, I guess what happens between you and Rackham is none of my business,’ he replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. Nation sensed his mixed feelings.

  ‘We ain’t bounty hunters,’ he said. ‘If we ever catch up with Rackham, we’ll do our best to bring him in alive. All we want is for him to face justice the same way as Gunter will.’

  ‘Leave Gunter to me,’ Schultz said. ‘I’ll take him to the marshal next time I’m in town.’

  ‘Maybe we can catch up with Denton too,’ Annie said.

  Annie had told them her story. It seemed that Denton and a few others had escaped following the fight and Nation had a feeling that they would be trying to reach Rackham. After she had spoken there was silence. Nation became aware that someone was approaching them. As he came near, Annie got to her feet and, despite the pain in her ankle, hobbled down the veranda steps to meet him.

  ‘Usher,’ she said. ‘I hoped I’d see you. I haven’t had a chance yet to thank you for what you did for me back there.’

  The newcomer took off his hat in an awkward motion designed to hide his embarrassment. ‘I’m glad you seem to be makin’ a recovery,’ he said.

  ‘Come and join us,’ Annie responded. She took his arm and drew him up the steps to the veranda.

  ‘Howdy, Usher,’ Schultz said. ‘How are you doin’?’

  Annie introduced him to the others and he took a seat alongside them.

  ‘Help yourself to coffee,’ Schultz added. ‘There’s an empty mug.’

  Usher bent forward and poured from the pot before turning to Nation. ‘I hope you don’t mind me askin’,’ he said, ‘but I understand you’re plannin’ on ridin’ to Montana.’ Nation nodded. ‘Well,’ Usher continued, ‘I was wonderin’ if I could maybe ride with you.’

  Nation glanced at the others. ‘Why would you want to do that?’ he replied. ‘You’ve got a berth right here on the Grab All.’

  ‘With all due respect,’ Usher said, ‘I reckon the time’s come for me to move on and I figure I’d as soon ride with an outfit like yours as not.’

  Muleskin laughed. ‘Some outfit,’ he chortled.

  ‘We ain’t exactly everyone’s idea of a goin’ concern,’ Nation added.

  Usher shrugged. ‘Maybe you could use another hand,’ he said.

  Nation looked closely at him. Without his assistance, things might have turned out a whole lot worse for Annie. He could sympathize with Usher’s sentiments. The time always seemed to come when it was right to make a change. He looked at Quitman and the doc. ‘Any objections?’ he asked.

  ‘Nope,’ Quitman said.

  The doc just shook his head.

  ‘How about you, Annie?’ Nation said.

  She smiled. ‘How could I have any objections?’ she answered.

  Nation turned to Usher. ‘You heard them,’ he said. ‘Consider yourself signed to the brand.’

  Another day passed. The doc removed the bandage from Nation’s hand and he spent part of the morning flexing it and practising his draw. By the time he had finished, he was satisfied that he had recovered as much of its movement as he was likely to. There was no doubt that he had lost something. Quitman was watching from the veranda.

  ‘Even in my law-keepin’ days, I was never a fast gun,’ he said.

  Nation looked up at him curiously. ‘Is that why you handed in your
badge?’ he said.

  Quitman shook his head. ‘Nope. That wasn’t it. I figured I wasn’t needed any more.’

  After a few moments he went back inside the ranch-house. Nation remained standing in the yard. Once again he had the feeling that there might have been something in the past between Annie and Quitman. He wondered about the reasons they all had for accompanying him on this escapade. Flexing his hand once more, he set off towards the stables to check on the horses.

  The next morning, after breakfast, they made their farewells to Schultz and rode away from the Grab All. They were six in number now, Usher having joined them. Schultz had provided them with the additional information that Rackham had mentioned the name of Hooker’s Bluff, but Nation knew they were in for a long ride with no guarantee that they would find their destination in a hurry. His guess was that Hooker’s Bluff was some kind of landmark in the foothills of the Rockies. He had been that way before, but it was a long time ago.

  They made good progress because they didn’t need to be looking out for any sign. Annie’s foot was better and so was Nation’s hand, but he had a fresh cause of discomfort. It was the scars left by the bear when it had sunk its claws into his chest. They had been troubling him on and off for some time but the doc had assured him there was nothing to be concerned about. There was no infection. It was just a natural consequence.

  ‘You figure it’ll go away in time?’ Nation asked.

  Before the doc had had a chance to reply, Muleskin burst in with a tirade against bears in general. ‘If my leg’s anythin’ to go by,’ he concluded, ‘you’re gonna be stuck with it for life.’

  ‘You get much pain?’ Nation asked.

  ‘I sure do. Them varmints must have some kinda poison in their claws. One of these days I’m gonna get even.’