Chapter 2
Heading North
Emery figured Foster’s men already had a good day’s ride ahead of him and would be cutting down his trees as soon as they set up camp. With time of the essence, Emery decided he and Ray would head out straight away for his cabin at Crystal Lake. Since it was already stocked with plates, cups and cookware, along with blankets and a couple of cots, all they needed to bring were the supplies they already had and then supplement them with any game they shot. They could set up for a few days there and see exactly what the crew was up to.
Both of them wore Colts and Emery had a back up Colt in one of his saddlebags. The rifles they carried in their scabbards were the new lever action type with the same caliber of ammunition as their revolvers. A man needs guns to defend his land and Emery had the best. Ray had never appreciated the long hours he’d stood beside his Pa down by the river shooting bottles and anything that drifted by- until now.
There was still a surprise coming for Ray when they reached the cabin. On an earlier trip to the cabin, Emery had stashed a couple boxes of dynamite he planned to use on stumps, but would also work as a deterrent.
They figured it would take about four to five days to reach their destination, especially in the snow. It was the middle of October, and even though the snow made it easier for the logs to be loaded down river, the cold and wet made traveling harsh.
At the top of the small rise Emery pulled up and turned his horse around to look back at the small settlement they had called home for several years.
“What are you lookin’ at, Pa?” asked Ray as he turned and pulled his mount up along side of his Pa.
“Take a good long look son. I figure after this, things are just not going to be the same,” sighed Emery.
Standing his horse on the edge of the forest Ray looked to the south at the only world he had ever known. The pines densely surrounded the checkerboard of cabins, each facing in different directions. Their disposition was likely based more on a stubborn stump that they chose to build around rather than spend a couple days digging out. The cabins all sat directly in front of the Coopers' view with smoke beginning to exit the many chimneys. Behind the cabins, further south and up a small trail that disappeared into the trees one could just make out the roofline of the impressive Foster mansion. To the east the mill sat idle next to the crystal clear cold waters of the river that fed power to the saw blades and sent the cut trees further south. From here Ray could just make out the rope he and his friends had used to swing out on the river for fun, when the sun beat down on the small town during the stifling hot summer months.
Ray was snapped out of his daydream by his Pa. “Let’s go finish this, son.”
The two turned their horses north and began making their way up the trail to Crystal Lake.
-CKS-
On the second day out Emery and Ray caught sight of the crew and decided to leave the trail to avoid being seen. Riding hard for about ten miles in the same direction alongside the trail, they were hoping to be able to swing back around in front of the crew and set up a proper welcome.
Near sundown they found a good location and made camp. As always in Southern Wisconsin the pine trees pushed in around them like a dark wall. Ray hid a small fire around some rocks and under the tree branches to break up the smoke. The location provided good cover from searching eyes and plenty of fresh water from a nearby stream. Dinner would be boiled jerky, pan bread, and coffee. After being in the saddle all day it was a welcomed feast.
Sitting around the warm fire with the snow piled up at their backs the food went down quickly. With dinner eaten, Emery left Ray sitting by the small fire and headed north to try and locate the crew. Ray enjoyed being out in the woods alone, especially when the landscape was covered by snow and there was a warm fire. With the combination of a full stomach, warm fire, and an intense, peaceful quiet, Ray soon found himself forgetting about all of his problems and nodded off. The young man was startled from his sleep by the rustling noise of his Pa warming his hands at the fire. “Did ya find them Pa?” asked Ray as he rubbed his eyes.
“Yeah, they have a camp about a mile behind us to the east. They’re travelin’ just on the other side of the hills. I figure it’ll take us a couple more days to get well enough ahead of them.”
”That Foster girl told me that her Pa hurt people that got in his way,” said Ray.
“Don't think you have to worry about Mr. Foster, son. The way that girl stopped you in your tracks, I would say it's that Foster you better worry about,” laughed Pa.
Hearing his Pa laugh was reassuring to Ray. It had been several days since he’d heard the joyful, low chuckle of his Pa's laugh.
“Well, she was awful pretty,” Ray said in his defense, feeling the heat rise up into his face.
“The boys at the mill told me she arrived about a week ago. They said Mr. Foster sent her away to a boarding school after her mother died, but decided to have her come back home after he moved into the big house at the mill. Someone else said they heard that she was kicked out of boardin’ school, so Foster had to bring her home. It was supposed to have been pretty serious whatever she did.” Emery explained.
“Pa, do you think a girl like that could like a guy like me?" Ray choked out without realizing. "Oh, never mind.”
“Don't ever cut yourself short son. Everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time.”
“Yeah, but unfortunately some people have nicer pants than others,” Ray said disappointedly.
Emery smiled sadly, silently acknowledging the veracity of his son's insight into the unfair rules of society. “You better turn in now, we have a lot of ridin’ ahead of us tomorrow and I expect the snow to get a little deeper as we continue north.”
Pulling his blankets back up over his shoulders, Ray laid back, knowing it was going to be hard to sleep with the thoughts of that pretty girl filling his head, no matter the unlikelihood of her ever being his.
The next morning Ray woke to the smell of coffee and boiled jerked beef. It was still dark but the camp was lit by the warm glow of the cooking fire. With his blankets pulled back, Ray looked over at his Pa. “That coffee smells awful good, but I have to say, your cookin’ falls a little short when compared to Ma's.”
“Well remember I ate your cookin’ last night, I think we both better spend more time in the kitchen watchin’ your Ma cook,” smiled Emery as he handed Ray a plate of food. “We should reach the cabin by nightfall. Keep an eye peeled for any game; we'll need the meat. Eat up; we need to get an early start. We'll need time to set up a nice warm welcome for our uninvited guests.”
The two were in the saddle just before sunrise. Ray couldn’t believe how beautiful the forest was in the early morning light. Each branch was covered with snow and ice that caught the rays of the sun and sparkled. The trees began to close in on the trail on all sides as they reached the Birch forest. Emery said the trees would get pretty thick by the time they reached their land. At noon they stopped the horses and made a dry camp.
“Since you don’t like my cookin’, you can make lunch,” smiled Emery as he grabbed an axe and mounted up.
Ray asked him what the axe was for, but Emery rode off without a word, only to wave back that he’d be back in a jiffy.
Ray found some dry wood under a tree fall, made a small fire and began to fix lunch.
When Emery returned he had a big smile on his face. He sat down and ate some of Ray’s lunch and threw back a couple cups of coffee. Rising, he poured the remains of the coffee over the ambers to put the fire out.
“Not bad vittles son, you may be our regular cook from now on,” joked Emery.
Ray knew he would be paying for that earlier comment about his Pa’s cooking for weeks to come.
As they mounted up Ray asked, “Aren’t you ever goin’ to tell me what you did with that axe?”
Emery started to chuckle. “I dropped a couple trees across the crew's path. I figure they’ll spend a better p
art of the day cuttin’ and movin’ them outta’ their way.”
Emery and Ray both broke into a gut wrenching laugh thinking about the mill crew having to cut their way through the obstruction, all the while cussing out their assailants.
-CKS-
After riding all day in patches of deep snow they arrived at the cabin. Trotting up to the front of their cabin they dismounted and tied their horses to the porch post. They were walking slowly towards the front of the house when Emery turned to Ray and said, “Don't forget to bring the deer in with you. I’d hate to see it go to waste out here after that lucky shot you made.”
“I hit what I aim at Pa,” Ray said with a smile.
Emery looked at his son very seriously, “I sure hope so son. I’m afraid we're gonna need your gun before this is over.”
The small cabin was built near the lake in a grove of trees. It was intended to be for hunting trips and as a temporary shelter until they could build their home. It was built just outside the normal route to where the timber would be cut. Though seemingly a simple structure, Ray quickly realized it was a strongly constructed building with open ground on all sides. There were small windows with shutters on the inside of the window openings, and a large fireplace set up for cooking. The front door had to be at least six inches thick with a large beam to drop into place to keep out hostiles. What impressed Ray the most was that his Pa had dug a well inside the house that supplied all the drinking water one could ever need. Emery had never spoken about the details of how he built the cabin but Ray now realized his Pa had built it more like a fortress, knowing this day might someday come.
“My God Pa, this looks more like a fort than a cabin!” Ray observed.
“I had a couple close calls out here so it didn't take long before I figured out what a man needs in order to stay alive. I just put all the ideas together in one safe place. Once we move the family up here we’ll need this place to go to in case of an attack. I never thought I would be using it to protect us from friends,” Emery added sadly.
Ray wondered whether his Pa could really take a shot at his friends. If one of them fired at him, could he return fire? Ray wasn't so sure, but he also knew that his Pa would never give up the land he secured for his family.
After unpacking their saddlebags and stocking the cabin with their supplies, Ray hoped they would be staying for a day or so just to heal up some of his saddle sores. But it was not to be, and they rode out early the next morning, Emery was concerned as to where the crew was and what they were up to. The sun hadn’t yet risen and it was very cold. Water vapor blew from the nostrils of their mounts as they rode out. The smell of iron in the air confirmed there would soon be more snowfall.
The longer they rode this land the more Ray fell in love with it and the more he wanted to protect it. He no longer felt the saddle sores or worried about his own wants and needs. He and his Pa were in a war that they might not ride away from. They hadn’t asked for this battle but they sure as hell weren’t going to run from it. With each mile they rode to intercept the logging crew, their resolve grew with an angry strength.
After a restless night spent shivering in their bedrolls, Emery and Ray had ridden about a half-mile when they first spotted the timber crew. The two dismounted and crawled on their bellies to the top of the small ridge in order to gain a good vantage point of the crew’s camp.
The crew had their tents set up alongside the trail, south of Ray and Emery.
“Son, you stay here and cover my back. Most of those men are my friends. I have to talk to them before the shootin’ starts. I got to know where they stand.”
“Pa, are ya sure? I mean, if they’re here doesn't that mean they’re against us?”
“Not necessarily son, not necessarily. Now keep your eyes open and keep that Winchester cocked and ready to fire. Do you understand?”
“Yeah Pa, I understand, but I sure wish there was another way.”
“Well, I do too and if you can think of one, let’s hear it.”
Ray just looked at his Pa. He didn't have any other ideas and he understood what his Pa had to do. Emery would never open fire on friends until he knew for sure there was no way around it.
Moving back down the side of the hill, Emery mounted up, riding tall in the saddle as he passed Ray’s hiding place on the ridge. Ray had never seen more courage and pure guts in a single man, and he was never more proud of his Pa than he was right then. Emery rode straight down the hill and directly into the camp. Faces of friends turned in recognition as he approached, then turned quickly away. They were the actions of guilty men who sold out their friend and his family’s future all for money. Being hard times and Ray knowing his Pa as he did, he knew Emery would neither blame the men nor support them in their decision to cut the timber.
Ray watched Emery ride through the crowd of men. Four men standing directly in front of his horse stopped him. A small group gathered around as Emery sat his saddle.
All four of the men looked to be seasoned lumberjacks. They were very large and tall, with arms the size of the tree trunks they worked so hard to fell. Three of the four had rifles resting in the bend of their elbows. The largest of the three with a bright red beard and stepped forward with authority. Ray could just barely hear the conversation between the bearded man and Emery.
“Well Emery Cooper, did you come lookin’ for a job?” enquired the bearded man with a malicious smile. While the other three laughed loudly, the rest of the crew stood silent and uneasy.
“No, actually I’ve come to help ya see you’ve made a terrible mistake. The timber you want is on the Kettle Range, it’s that way,” Pa said with a genial smile, gesturing to the west. A couple men in the group chuckled but then turned away to keep from being identified.
“Ain't the Kettle timber we're after and you know it. We're here to cut down every damn tree on that private land of yours,” boasted the bearded man.
“Well then,” said Emery shaking his head, “that's a shame. So, I guess I’ll just give you my warning and ride on out.” Emery sat straight up in his saddle and looked out over the men. Many of these men had shared lunch breaks with him, come over for dinner, sat next to each other in church and now they stood like cowards prepared to cut down one of their own. Emery felt a little sick and disappointed as he looked over the group of hidden faces. Rising up to stand in his stirrups so he could see each of them and so all could hear, Emery spoke softly but with purpose, “Just so you all know, any man that swings an ax on my land is no friend of mine and is subject to receivin’ a piece of lead.”
Taking a challenging stance in front of Emery, the bearded man growled. “You talk pretty tough for a man standin’ all alone in the woods against a camp full of men. Why, you’re either the bravest son of a bitch I ever met or one of the dumbest.”
“Well, I guess that's yet to be determined,” said Emery, glaring down into the bearded man’s eyes.
As quick as a cat, the bearded man reached up and grabbed Emery from the saddle, pulling him hard to the ground. Before he could recover and regain his feet, the bearded man kicked Emery full in the ribs. Emery feel back down on his face in the shallow snow. The bearded man’s laugh filled the tops of the trees as he bent his head back in a deep roar.
“This is just too easy. I’m gonna be finishin’ this fight before it even gets started.”
Grabbing an axe out of the hands of a man standing next to him, the bearded man raised it over his head and took aim. Before it moved downward, a shot rang out, echoing through the trees.
The bearded man, still holding the axe overhead, turned a complete, slow circle, with a look of shock on his face. Directly in the center of his forehead was a third eye. Blood began to drain from his skull as he dropped to his knees, falling face first into the snow. Everyone in the group froze, hoping not to attract the next bullet to arrive on the scene.
Unassisted by his friends, Emery rose to his feet as they all moved back away from him like he had t
he plague. Grabbing his saddle horn, Emery could barely pull himself up, and with great effort settled himself back into his saddle. He looked around the group to see the faces of his lost friends but no one would look him in the eye. He turned his horse and slowly rode out of the camp.
Emery encouraged his horse up the slope to meet Ray on the other side of the ridge. Ray was still holding his rifle at the ready when Emery rode up beside him.
“Thanks son. You saved my life. Now mount up and let’s get gone,” said Emery sadly.
Revenge Requires Two Graves Page 2
