“We’ll all wish we’d been gut shot by the white renegades,” Hoot said.
“That’s exactly right,” Jeb answered. “Anyone have any questions, before I say who’s goin’ with Hoot? And if any of you want to back out, say so now. I’ll cover things with the colonel so you’ll receive an honorable discharge from the Rangers. I’m askin’ all of you to take on a tough job here, one in which the chances I’d give for your survivin’ are less than fifty-fifty.”
“That’s not much worse odds’n what we usually face, Jeb,” Hoot said. “Any of you other fellers want out?”
His question was met with a shaking of heads.
“There you have it,” Hoot said. “We’ve seen things through this far, so I reckon we’ll all stick to the end. We leavin’ first thing in the mornin’?”
“We are,” Jeb answered. “You’ll take Nate, of course, since you two work so well together. Nate, if anythin’ happens to Hoot, you’ll be in charge of his patrol. You’re also second in command, although I can’t give either one of you a promotion. Comprende?”
“Comprende,” Nate said.
“Good. Along with Nate, I’m sendin’ A, J., Eli, Zack, and Newt with you. The rest of you fellers’ll be ridin’ with me. Any objections?”
Again, the only answer was a shaking of heads.
“Good,” Jeb answered. “I chose the men I did so there’d be at least some men with fightin’ experience in both patrols. I also reckoned it’d be better to keep most of the younger men with me, since I’ve been a Ranger longer’n any of you, by far. I figure my years in the Rangers will make up some for your lack of time. Now, are there any questions?”
“I’ve got one,” Hoot said. “How’re we gonna know when to meet up again, and where?”
“That’s a good question,” Jeb admitted. “Let’s figure on meetin’ in two weeks, right back here at this café.” He glanced at the café’s owner. “That is, if Shirley doesn’t have any objections.”
“Not at all, Lieutenant,” Shirley answered. “You Rangers are welcome here anytime. And I’ve never seen you.”
“Gracias, Shirley. We’re obliged,” Jeb said. “So, we’ll rejoin forces right here, two weeks from tomorrow.”
“What if one patrol ain’t back then?” Newt asked.
“That’s another good question,” Jeb conceded. “Whichever of us gets back first, and assumin’ the other patrol hasn’t shown up, you’ll wait two days. When those two days are up, and the other patrol still hasn’t come back, the first ones will ride out searchin’ for the missin’ men. Any other questions?”
“Seems not,” Hoot said, when no one spoke.
“Good. We’ll ride out soon as it’s light. Shirley, will you be able to fix us an early breakfast?”
“I just live in the little house right next door,” Shirley said. “I’ll be up well before you fellers. You’ll be able to put on the feedbag. Wish I could do more for you.”
“You’ve already done more’n enough by feedin’ us some mighty good chuck, and lettin’ us roll out our bedrolls behind your place. We’re obliged again. Gracias,” Jeb repeated, then continued. “Before turnin’ in, I want each and every one of you to clean your weapons, and make certain they’re in good working order. The dust, alkali, and salt out here are mighty tough on guns. Make certain your horses are in good shape, and don’t have any loose shoes. Same with the saddles and bridles, too. Make sure there’s no tears, or dry leather that’s ready to let go and break. Now, I’m gonna do just that, then say goodnight.”
The coffee mugs were drained, the chairs pushed back, and, with a shuffling of boots, Nate and his Ranger compadres headed outside, to prepare for whatever they would face in the coming days.
10
Hoot, Nate, and the other Rangers in their patrol took a full day to cross the salt flats and desert, before stopping for the night at the foot of the Guadalupes. A small stream issuing forth from a canyon provided water and grass, before it continued into the flats and disappeared into the salt.
“You have any idea where to start lookin’ for renegades, Hoot?” Zack asked.
“No, I sure don’t,” Hoot answered. “I reckon we’ll just begin by searchin’ through these here oversized gopher mounds, and with luck, we’ll come across some tracks. With even more luck, they’ll belong to some of the men we’re lookin’ for.”
“It’s likely,” Nate said. “Doesn’t seem like this is hospitable territory for most honest folks. It’s way too dry for farmin’, and what does grow here don’t seem much good for grazin’ cattle, neither.”
“It’s not, but if an hombre claims enough land, he can eke out a fair to middlin’ livin’ raisin’ cows out here,” Hoot answered. “As long as he can fight off the white outlaws, Mexican rustlers, and renegade Apaches, that is.”
“Speakin’ of those Apaches, it seems to me no white man would be safe makin’ his hideout in these mountains, with the Mescaleros on the prod all the time,” A. J. said.
“Oh, there’s no white men in here, unless the Mescaleros want ’em to be,” Hoot answered. “That’s why any tracks we come across most likely won’t have been made by any honest man’s horse. The outlaws we’re lookin’ for have probably made some kind of deal with those Indians. Mebbe they’re payin’ ’em off, or mebbe they made an agreement to share whatever they steal with the Mescaleros.”
“Just mebbe they’re workin’ with the Mescaleros,” Eli added. “They could be raidin’ together, whites and Indians both.”
“Eli makes a good point,” Newt agreed.
“Which is why we’ve got to be even more cautious from here on in,” Hoot answered. “I’m darn good at followin’ a trail, and Nate’s learned a lot about trackin’, but an Apache sure ain’t gonna let you see him, less’n he wants to be seen. Keep that in mind.
“If you see a lone Mescalero, and he seems to be runnin’ off, most likely he’s gonna lead you right into a trap. Which means no fire tonight, no matter how chilly it gets. It would be seen for miles, and the smoke would drift so it could be smelled from a long way off, too.
“No shootin’ any game, either. The shots would give us away. Good thing we’ve got plenty of cooked grub, thanks to Shirley givin’ us more supplies, or we’d be eatin’ nothin’ but hardtack and jerky until this job’s done. We’ll have to tie the horses to our saddles, too, and hold onto their ropes while we’re sleepin’. Otherwise, an Apache’s liable to steal ’em right from under our noses, without us even hearin’ him.”
“Unless he slits our throats first,” Zack muttered.
“That could happen, but it ain’t likely,” Hoot said. “A Comanch’ or Apache’d rather steal horses than kill a man—at least, most times.”
“That’s a real comforting thought,” Newt said, sarcastically.
“If an Apache does get our horses, you’ll wish he’d slit your throat,” Hoot retorted. “At least that’d be quick, and a lot better’n dyin’ from thirst or hunger. Which means we’re gonna have to set sentries, too. Two men to each watch. Don’t even think of wanderin’ behind a bush to pee, unless you’ve got another man with you. He don’t have to go behind that bush with you, while you’re busy, but I don’t want to take any chances on losin’ a lone man. So, we stay in pairs, at least, from here on in. A. J., you’n Newt’ll take the first watch. Nate, you and Eli the second. Zack and I’ll take the last. Everybody understand?”
The rest of the men nodded their agreement.
“Good. Then let’s get to supper, and after that, turn in, except for A. J. and Newt. Nate and Eli’ll relieve you two in four hours.”
****
For three days, Nate and his partners searched in vain for any sign of outlaws. It was mid-afternoon of their fourth day in the Guadalupes when Nate spotted a wispy plume of smoke.
“Looks like a fire ahead,” he said, pointing in the smoke’s direction. “Appears too big for a campfire, and not spread out enough for a prairie fire.”
“No Apache worth
his salt would make a fire that can be spotted,” Hoot said. “And a white man’d be plumb loco to build a fire in Indian territory. We’d best go check it out. Careful, though.”
He put Dusty into a gallop, the other men following. As they neared the smoke, it seemed to dissipate, rather than thickening and rising.
“It’s comin’ from that canyon over yonder,” Zack said.
“We’ll go in slow and easy, until we find out what happened,” Hoot said, as he pulled out his rifle and laid it across the pommel of his saddle.
With their guns at the ready, the young Rangers, not one of them older than nineteen except for Eli, walked their horses into the canyon. Under their wide-brimmed hats, their eyes were constantly moving, scanning the surrounding terrain for any sign of trouble, any hidden bushwhackers.
After a few minutes, they reached the source of the smoke, the smoldering ruins of a ranch house and barns, which had been built against the sheer, five hundred foot high back wall of a canyon. Several bodies lay sprawled lifelessly in front of the remains of the buildings.
“Looks like we’ve stumbled on the men we’re lookin’ for,” Nate said. “Or another bunch of killers, for certain.”
“Seems so,” Hoot answered. “Let’s see if we can figure out who did this.”
He rode up to the nearest body, dismounted, and rolled the dead cowboy onto his back. He studied the ground in front of the burned out house, paying careful attention to the hoofprints of several horses.
“Do you reckon it was Mescaleros?” A. J. asked.
“Might’ve been, but I doubt it,” Hoot answered. “If it was Mescaleros, they were ridin’ stolen horses. All the horses the raiders used were shod, unlike Indian ponies.”
He examined another body. “Appears like all these hombres were killed by bullets, too. No sign of any arrows, at all. Plenty of Indians still prefer a bow and arrow over a gun. These men ain’t been scalped, either. No, I’d say we’re lookin’ for a bunch of white renegades. Looks to be eight or ten of ’em. They rode off that way.”
Hoot pointed to a smaller canyon which forked to the left.
“We’re not that far behind ’em. No more’n an hour or two at the most. These bodies ain’t stiffened up yet, and the buzzards ain’t got to ’em. Those ashes and smolderin’ timbers are still pretty hot, too. If we ride hard, we should catch up to the hombres who did this before dark. Let’s ride.”
He climbed back into his saddle, turned Dusty toward the canyon’s left branch, and put him into a dead run. The trail the raiders had left was so plain, he had no fear of losing it, and right now, speed was the most essential need, if they were to catch up with the killers before dark.
Until there was sign the outlaws had slowed, there was no need to worry about an ambush, either. With the ranch they’d attacked being so isolated, chances were the outlaws weren’t worried about pursuit in any event. Hoot leaned low over Dusty’s neck, urging him to greater speed.
****
No horse, no matter how hardy, could maintain top speed for more than two miles or so, before he would break down, either his legs giving out, or his heart and lungs bursting from the effort. Many horses had been run to their deaths by men trying to outrun the law, or lawmen attempting to apprehend a fleeing outlaw.
Knowing this, Hoot, Nate, and their partners kept alternating their horses’ pace between a lope, gallop, and walk, stopping occasionally for ten or twenty minutes to allow the mounts a breather, the chance to snatch a bite of dried grass or brush.
The canyon they were following had many twists, turns, and side branches, but the trail left by the fleeing outlaws was plain enough to follow, even under a quarter moon’s dim light, if Nate and his partners hadn’t caught up with them before dusk. An hour before sundown, Hoot waved the others to a halt.
“Don’t ask me why, but I’ve got a gut feelin’ our men are just around that bend,” he said. “The last horse droppin’s I checked were still warm, and the tracks are real fresh. And that rock wall showin’ just beyond that slide makes me think the only way outta this canyon’s a steep and narrow trail. That’d be real dangerous to take in the daylight, let alone after dark.
“I do believe those hombres are holed up for the night, and figure on continuin’ on in the mornin’. There’s eight of them, I figure, since the deeper hoofprints show eight horses had riders, and the others must’ve been stolen from that ranch. The odds ain’t gonna get any better.”
“How do you want to play it, Hoot?” Nate asked.
“We’ll tie the horses here, ’cause they’ll make too much noise goin’ in there,” Hoot answered. “Not only that, but some of the outlaws’ broncs are liable to call out to ours, and give us away. Dismount and take off your spurs, or anythin’ else that might jangle and give us away.”
The men dismounted, and tied their horses to some mesquite bushes, where they could munch on the leaves and pods while awaiting their riders’ return. Spurs were removed and hung from saddlehorns, pockets stuffed with extra shells. Walking almost silently in boots was impossible, of course. They would just have to move as carefully as they could, taking care to avoid stepping on any dried twigs that might snap, or loose rocks.
When they rounded the bend, Hoot waved them to their bellies. They took cover behind scattered, jagged rocks and boulders, or hid behind clumps of thorny prickly pear and ocotillo.
“Let’s study on this a bit before we go in,” Hoot hissed. Ahead of them, hard against the back wall of the canyon, was a ramshackle cabin. Smoke curled lazily from its stovepipe chimney. In a large corral a short distance away, two dozen or so horses milled about. A spring issuing from the canyon wall provided water, as well as green grass for the horses to graze.
As Hoot had suspected, a narrow, steep, and winding trail led up the far wall of the canyon. However, not a man was in sight.
“It sure ain’t gonna be easy to roust those snakes outta their hole,” Nate said. “There’s not a heckuva lotta cover. We’d be sittin’ ducks if we tried to rush ’em.”
“Unless they figure there’s no need to be watchin’ for anyone,” Zack noted. “Appears to me they’re eatin’ supper. Mebbe we could take ’em by surprise.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but we’d be takin’ too big a chance,” Hoot answered. “All that would have to happen would be for one man to come outside, to get some more firewood or mebbe use the privy, and we’d be caught out in the open. We’d be cut down before we got halfway to that shack.”
“I’ve got me an idea,” Newt said. “I think I could snake my way over to the shack, then get up on the roof and block the chimney. That’d smoke ’em out. The rest of you could stay here, and keep your guns trained on the door and windows. If they surrendered, and came out with their hands up, we’d be able to haul ’em in, or at least, back to the café. We could lock ’em in the storeroom there until Jeb comes back and decides what to do with ’em. If they come out shootin’, you boys’ll be able to pick ’em off, easy. What d’ya think?”
“I dunno,” Hoot said, shaking his head. “Those hombres most likely ain’t gonna surrender, knowin’ they’d hang if the law caught up with ’em. You’d be takin’ an awful chance. Are you sure you can get up on that roof without bein’ spotted?”
“It’ll be a piece of cake,” Newt answered. “All I’ve gotta do is stick close to the canyon wall, makin’ sure the horses in that corral don’t see me and spook. There’s enough brush along that wall I can pretty well stay out of sight.
“The back of the cabin’s close enough to the rocks, and the roof is low enough I’ll be able to reach it by usin’ one of those large boulders to get close enough to pull myself on the roof. Once I do, I’ll cover the stovepipe with my hat. It won’t take long for the place to fill with smoke, and those hombres will either have to run out, or choke to death.”
“I’m still not certain,” Hoot said. “Nate, what do you think?”
“It seems to me Newt’s come up with the best plan I can figu
re, probably the only one that might just work,” Nate answered.
“Eli, A. J., Zack?”
“I’m with Newt,” Eli answered.
“Same here,” Zack added.
“Me, too,” A. J. said.
“All right, Newt, we’ll give your idea a try,” Hoot said. “We’ll keep you covered while you make your way through the brush. Go ahead and get started. Good luck.”
“All right, and thanks,” Newt answered. He disappeared into the brush.
The other men watched tensely as Newt reappeared for a moment, where the brush thinned out, then ducked back under cover. They could see the slight movement of the bushes as Newt slowly made his way to the shack. They kept their guns aimed straight at the shack, ready to start shooting at the first sign Newt had been spotted.
Their muscles grew sore, their shirts became soaked with sweat, their pulses pounded, and even their breaths were tight, as they waited for Newt to re-emerge from the brush.
After fifteen minutes, he again reappeared, this time behind one of the boulders at the rear of the shack. He clambered up that, grabbed the edge of the roof, and pulled himself on. He waved his hat over his head at his partners.
“What’s that dang fool think he’s doin’?” Hoot muttered, “He’d better get to work, rather’n sendin’ us howdies.”
“Now, what’s he doin’?” Nate asked no one in particular, when Newt removed his hat, and, instead of placing it atop the stovepipe, set it on the roof. Newt then proceeded to remove his shirt, roll it up, and stuff it down the stovepipe, then put his hat atop that.
“He must be makin’ certain that chimney’s plugged good and tight,” A. J. said, as they watched Newt pull out his gun and lie on his belly, waiting for the outlaws to emerge from the shack.
It only took a short while before smoke began seeping from around the windows and doors, and curling from under the eaves. The men inside began choking and cursing. A minute later, the door burst open, and two men ran outside, rubbing their eyes to clear them.
A Ranger Grown (Lone Star Ranger Book 8) Page 11
