“Texas Rangers!” Hoot shouted. “Don’t make a move. Get your hands in the air, or we’ll drop you right where you stand. The rest of you, come on out.”
With more curses, the two men went for their guns, only to be cut down. It only took another five minutes for the smoke to become too much for the other outlaws to stand. Three more rushed out. Newt stood up, and shot one in the back. The other two dove to the ground, returning the Rangers’ fire.
One of the three men still inside realized Newt was on the roof, hearing the shot he’d fired and the clomping of his boots. He grabbed his rifle from the corner, and sent several bullets though the dry, half-rotted wooden shakes.
One bullet found its target, tearing into Newt’s belly and angling upward into a lung. Newt pressed a hand to his middle, jackknifed and staggered. When the last three men ran outside, he somehow managed to raise his six-gun and shoot another in the back, then fell. He crashed through the roof and into the cabin.
With the outlaws out in the open, and the Rangers still behind good cover, it didn’t take long for Nate, with his partners, to make short work of the men. Within ten minutes, all of the renegades were lying dead.
“I’m goin’ to check on Newt,” Hoot said. “The rest of you, make certain of these men.”
Reloading as they went, Hoot headed for the shack, while Nate, A. J., and Zack began checking the outlaws’ bodies.
Just before Hoot reached the shack it burst into flames, with a tremendous roar. Apparently, Newt had knocked over the stove when he fell through the roof, scattering burning wood and hot coals, which set the tinder-dry cabin on fire.
Hoot attempted to rush into the building, but was driven back by the heat, smoke, and flames. When he made a second attempt, Nate grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him back.
“Lemme go, Nate!” Hoot yelled. “I’ve gotta get Newt outta there.”
Nate refused to relinquish his grip. He shook his head.
“There ain’t nothin’ you can do for Newt, pard,” he said, sadly. “The only thing you’ll accomplish by goin’ into that inferno will be to get yourself killed. Listen. Do you hear anything? Anyone callin’ for help?”
Hoot hesitated, then shook his head.
“No.”
“That’s ’cause Newt’s already gone,” Nate answered. “I could tell he was done for by the way he grabbed his gut, then wend down. He was dead before he fell through that roof. You know that’s true. You could tell how bad he was hit. But he took two of those hombres with him. Who knows? He just might’ve saved one—or more—of our lives.”
“I know,” Hoot said, hanging his head. The sound of bullets exploding in the heat came from the shack.
“Let’s back away, Hoot,” Nate said. “We don’t want to catch a stray bullet.” He half-shoved, half-pulled Hoot away from the blaze. Zack, A. J., and Eli joined them.
“Newt’s gone, ain’t he, Hoot?” Eli asked. Hoot didn’t respond.
“Yeah, he is,” Nate answered. “But he went down fightin’. What about the hombres you three checked?”
“They’re all done for,” Zack answered. “What d’ya want we should do with them, Hoot? Hoot?”
There was no response.
“Just give him a couple of minutes, Zack,” Nate said. “Meantime, we should say a prayer for Newt. All right, Hoot?”
“I guess so,” Hoot mumbled.
All five men removed their hats.
“I reckon I’ll say some words,” Nate said. “Lord, Newt Collins wasn’t a Ranger for very long, but he sure was a good one. We’re all hopin’ You see fit to give him a good home in Heaven with You, one with blue skies and rollin’ prairies, where he can roam wherever he wants. We ask this, Lord, in Your name, and the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns forever and ever. Amen.”
“Amen,” the others said. They stood there silently, watching the burning cabin until it collapsed upon itself, with shower of sparks.
“Hoot, what’re we gonna do with these outlaws?” Zack asked yet again.
“I…I don’t care,” Hoot answered. “Let the buzzards and coyotes have ’em. Don’t matter none. Let Nate decide. I’m resignin’ from the Rangers, soon as we get back and meet Jeb.”
The sun had set, and darkness was rapidly filling the canyon.
“Hoot, listen to me,” Nate said. “Listen to me!” he repeated, louder, shaking Hoot’s shoulders. “We’re gonna have to stay here tonight. It’ll be too dark to find our way outta this place until sunup. I dunno about you, but I sure don’t like the idea of spendin’ the night with a bunch of dead men lyin’ around, especially once the coyotes turn up and start chompin’ on ’em. You’re still in charge here, let me remind you. And I sure ain’t gonna let you quit, you hear me? So, what should we do with these outlaws?”
“Lemne think a minute,” Hoot said, his mind returning to the present situation. He looked around the canyon.
“Doesn’t seem to be any place where we can drag ’em to,” he said. “Much as I hate to put ’em with a good man like Newt, I reckon the best thing to do would be toss ’em in what’s left of that shack. The fire’ll take care of ’em. You mind handlin’ that for me, Nate? I’m feelin’ kinda sick. I’d like to be alone for a bit.”
“Sure, Hoot. Sure,” Nate said. “C’mon, pardners. Let’s do what the corporal ordered. Then we’ll go retrieve our horses.”
11
Despite the loss of Newt Collins, the other men were so worn out they slept soundly, only awakening when the rising sun’s ray’s topped the canyon’s rim.
“You feelin’ any better, Hoot?” Nate asked, while they were alone. A. J., Zack, and Eli were off taking care of necessary business.
“I reckon, a little,” Hoot answered. “I just feel awful guilty about losin’ Newt. My first time leadin’ a patrol, and I let one of my men get himself killed.”
“Listen to me, pard. I know that’s what’s been eatin’ at you, ever since Newt died,” Nate said. “But he knew what he was gettin’ into when he signed on as a Ranger, and he knew the chance he was takin’ last night. You didn’t get him killed. It’s one of the risks of the job. If Jeb hadn’t thought you’d make a good leader, he’d never have put you in charge of a patrol.
“What happened happened, and stewin’ over it won’t bring Newt back. Have I talked some sense into you, or am I gonna have to knock some into your thick skull?”
“I reckon not,” Hoot said, with a wistful smile. “Thanks, Nate. I needed to hear that. I was still thinkin’ about quittin’ the outfit. I reckon that would’ve been a mistake.”
“That’s what pards are for. And quittin’ would’ve been a big mistake,” Nate said. “Where’re we headed next?”
“We’ve still got a few days to look for renegades before we have to head back to meet Jeb,” Hoot answered. “I reckon we’ll spend ’em combin’ through some more of these mountains. Soon as the other boys are done, we’ll eat breakfast, then head on out.”
“What about all those horses?” Nate asked.
“Well, the outlaws won’t need theirs, that’s for darn certain,” Hoot said. “And the ones they stole don’t have any owners, not anymore. We’ll have to turn them loose and let them fend for themselves. They’ll either find their way someplace, or more likely, the Apaches’ll pick ’em up and add ’em to their pony herd.
“We’ll take Dorado with us. I don’t think Newt’d appreciate us leavin’ his horse behind.”
“His ghost’d probably haunt us for the rest of our days if we did, is my guess,” Nate answered. “Here come the others. Dunno about you, but the sooner we’re outta this canyon, the happier I’ll be.”
“I think that goes for all of us,” Hoot answered.
****
After they ate, and knocked down the corral fences to free the horses, Hoot, Nate, and their partners saddled up and mounted, eager to leave the scene of death and desolation behind them.
“We’re gonna have to really watch for Me
scaleros,” Hoot said, as they started back down the canyon. “If there are any of ’em within ten miles of here, you know they’re aware of what happened last night. In fact, I was half-expectin’ an Indian attack this mornin’.”
“Why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?” A. J. asked.
“Because I figured if they didn’t hit us while we were sleepin’, or at sunup, they weren’t around. But that don’t mean they won’t turn up,” Hoot answered. “So let’s keep movin’, but keep watchin’.”
They put their horses into a trot. They had gone about two miles into the canyon when the unmistakable hiss of an arrow split the air, followed by the thud of it striking flesh. Eli screamed and toppled from his horse, with the arrow sunk deep in his belly.
“Apaches!” Hoot yelled, as more arrows whizzed past. He and the others grabbed their rifles and rolled out of their saddles, crawling into a nest of boulders. A. J. and Zack dragged the badly wounded Eli into the shelter of those rocks.
“I guess they waited before hittin’ us,’ Nate said, adding an oath. “We should’ve figured they’d hold off until they thought our guard was down.”
“More likely, they didn’t want to come into the place where Newt and those outlaws died,” Hoot answered. “A lotta Indians are superstitious, just like white men. They’d be afraid of disturbin’ the dead’s spirits. It’s bad luck. You know how I feel about haints. So do most Indians. And they chose a spot where they’ve got us pinned down for fair. The only way we’re gonna get outta this fix is by shootin’ our way out… and the chances of that ain’t too good. Eli, how’re you doin’?”
“Dunno if I’m…gonna make it,” Eli answered. “I’m hit real…bad.”
“Take a look at him, Nate,” Hoot ordered.
“Sure.”
Nate took a quick look at Eli’s wound.
“It’s bad, ain’t it, Nate?” Eli asked.
“It ain’t good,” Nate answered.
“Well?” Hoot asked.
“He ain’t gonna pull through,” Nate answered. “The arrow’s too deep in his guts. If I try to push it through, or pull it back out, I’ll just do more damage. It’s only a matter of time.”
Hoot cursed. When an Apache stuck his head above a rock shelf, for just a moment, Hoot took a shot at him, cursing when his bullet hit the shelf and ricocheted away.
“You think they’ll rush us?” Zack asked.
“I don’t think so,” Hoot answered. “Not for a while, anyway. They’ll want to make us sweat, first.”
Another Mescalero rose up from his shelter to fire the rifle he carried. This time, Hoot’s bullet didn’t miss. Hit in the chest, the Indian fell, and disappeared behind some brush.
“That’s one who won’t be doin’ any more fightin’, at least,” Hoot muttered. “Sure wish we knew how many of ’em are out there.”
“You want me to try’n scout ’em out?” A. J. asked.
“Uh-uh.” Hoot shook his head. “They’d never let you get near enough. You’d be dead before you ever got close. The only chance we’ve got is to try’n hold off until dark. Mebbe we can sneak by ’em then.”
****
For another hour, the Rangers and Mescaleros traded bullets and arrows, neither side making a hit. Eli had slipped into unconsciousness. Hoot leaned around the boulder sheltering him to take a shot at one of the Indians. Before he could pull the trigger of his rifle, an arrow buried itself deep in the right side of his chest, up high. He toppled backward, clutching the arrow’s shaft.
“Hoot!” Nate yelled. He crawled over to his wounded friend.
“I guess that one…got me.” Hoot gasped. “Reckon we’re all…done for.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Nate said. “You ain’t dead yet. None of us are. Even Eli’s still hangin’ on. He’s still breathin’. We might just get outta here yet.”
“Zack, A. J., get over here,” Hoot ordered.
“Yessir,” A. J. said. He and Zack joined Hoot and Nate.
“Nate’s in charge now,” he said. “You three are gonna try’n make a break for it. I can’t ride hard, not with this arrow in me, but I can still shoot a pistol. I’ll fire off as many bullets as I can while you make a run. With luck, that’ll keep the Mescaleros busy until you can get away.”
“Not a chance,” Nate said. “I’m not leavin’ you’n Eli behind, Hoot.”
“Nate, listen to me,” Hoot said. “Eli’s dyin’, and I’m hit almost as hard. At least the three of you have a chance… not much of one, but still…a chance.”
“I ain’t leavin’ you, Hoot,” Nate insisted. “I can’t leave Eli, either.”
“Nate, remember when I was made a corporal, and I told you I’d never give you orders?” Hoot asked. “Well, that just changed. I’m givin’ you one now. You’re gonna take A. J. and Zack, and make a run for it. That’s a direct order. I’m also askin’ you as a friend. There’s no sense in all of us dyin’.”
“All right,” Nate said, reluctantly. “But I’ll be back for you, Hoot. That’s a promise. Eli, too.”
“I’ll take care of Eli until you come back,” Hoot said. “We’re not goin’ anywhere. Now, git!”
“Yessir, Corporal Harrison,” Nate said. “C’mon, you two, let’s get our horses and see if we can outrun those Apaches.”
****
Nate, A. J. and Zack retrieved their horses from where they had taken shelter behind a grove of redberry junipers, and were cropping at some dried bunch grass. They mounted, and leaned low over the horses’ necks.
“You ready, boys?” Nate asked. “When we start, ride like the devil himself is after you, and if you spot an Apache, don’t shoot unless you’re certain you can hit him. We can’t waste any bullets. Let’s go!”
They jabbed their spurs deep into their horses’ sides, sending the startled animals leaping into a dead run. They only got about three hundred yards before a flurry of arrows and volley of rifle bullets met them. One arrow tore a deep gash along Zack’s right ribs. A bullet took A. J. high on the left side of his back, another ripping a chunk of flesh from Nate’s right leg, a second punching a hole through his left arm.
“Turn back!” Nate screamed. “There’s too many of ’em. We’ll have to hole up again, and try’n fight ’em off.”
The Mescaleros let out whoops of triumph when the saw the three Rangers retreat. Now, they knew, it was only a matter of time before they took the scalps of their sworn enemies.
“You couldn’t get through,” Hoot muttered in disgust, when his partners rode back into the rock nest.
“Nope. There’s too many of ’em,” Nate answered. “We’ll just have to take as many of those Apaches with us as we can, before they take our scalps. What about Eli?”
“He breathed his last right after you left,” Hoot said. “At least, his sufferin’s over. Ours is just about to start.”
“Mebbe not. I’ve got an idea,” A. J. said.
“You do? Then spill it,” Hoot said.
“Why don’t we round up those horses back there, and stampede ’em through the canyon? We can put our broncs in the middle of the herd, so we’ll make lousy targets. The dust they kick up will help hide us, too. Once we’re outta this maze, we can outrun those Mescaleros.”
“That just might work,” Nate said. “How about it, Hoot? Think you can ride that far?”
“If it’ll save my scalp, you bet your boots I can,” Hoot answered. “But what about you three? Seems like you're all hurt.”
“We've got no choice but to try,” Nate said. “We'll bandage our wounds quick, before we ride out.”
Hoot nodded. “Sure hate to leave poor Eli behind—”
“We won’t have to,” Zack said. “I’ll get his horse, and we can tie him on it. Worst that can happen is he falls off, but he’ll never know.”
“I’ll make the ride a bit easier for you, Hoot,” Nate said. “I’m gonna have to push that arrow through, rather’n pullin’ it out, but can’t take the time right now. I’ll snap off mo
st of the shaft so it won’t move around inside you as much, and there’ll be less chance of it catchin’ on somethin’ and really tearin’ you up.”
Nate took the arrow’s shaft in both hands, and broke it in two. He tossed the feathered end over the rocks.
“That’s all I can do for now. We’ll have to patch ourselves up better once we get away from these Indians.”
“Nate, you learned a lot about horses from Phil and Jeb,” Hoot said. “And Zack, you’ve been cowboyin’ for years, and both of you have good ranch ponies. You two go get those horses. A. J., while they’re roundin’ ’em up, you get mine and Eli’s. I’m gonna want you to tie me to my saddle, too. Just in case I pass out.”
“All right, Hoot,” A. J. agreed.
“Zack, we’ve got us some horses to catch,” Nate said. “Time to get ’em. A. J., you have Hoot ready to ride and Eli’s body on his horse. If we’re gonna pull this off, we’re gonna have to run those horses through here, before the Apaches figure out what we’re up to. That means we’ll be comin’ through here at top speed, so you’ll need to be ready for us.”
“I will be,” A. J. assured him. “And if we don’t make it, it’s been a real pleasure ridin’ with you fellers.”
“I can say the same for all of us,” Nate answered. “C’mon, Zack.
****
A.J. and Hoot waited anxiously for Nate and Zack to return. Jones and Dusty, sensing their riders’ tension, stamped nervously under them. Eli’s horse pulled back on the rope A. J. had tied to Jones’s saddlehorn.
“I hear ’em comin’, A. J.,” Hoot said. “Get ready.”
The pounding of the stampeding horses’ hooves grew louder, shaking the ground. Dust rose from up canyon. A moment later, the herd swept around a bend and burst into view.
“Wait until some of ’em pass us, then ride into the midst of that bunch, A. J.,” Hoot said. A. J. nodded. They had to keep their reins tight as their horses fought to join the oncoming herd.
“Now!” Hoot shouted, when the first few horses were past. They didn’t even have to spur their horses, just loosen the reins, with Dusty and Jones being so anxious to join the stampede. They angled their mounts into the middle of the herd, then leaned low over them, giving them their heads. There would be no stopping them in their frenzy, and it was better to trust the horses’ instincts at this maddened pace, over such rough, treacherous terrain.
A Ranger Grown (Lone Star Ranger Book 8) Page 12
