Revenge Requires Two Graves

by George Emery Townsend

  Chapter 18

  Fort Laramie

  Zeke and Ray had ridden half the day when they approached a small rise. Ray could tell they were close to water by the smell in the air. As they rode up to the top of the rise they could see a slowly flowing river with Ft. Laramie just beyond.

  The fort was founded by fur traders, along the Laramie River, just about a mile from where it forked with the Platte River. Within the sun dried clay walls of the fort, the hunters and trappers for the American Fur Company brought their bounty. Even after the trading post was taken over by the Government in 1849 it continued on as a valuable trading location.

  Reaching Ft. Laramie for most was going to be a time of great decision, whether to continue on testing themselves to achieve the dream of a great future or to return to face the neighbors and family that would be ready to tell them they were fools for ever having attempted it. The fort was considered by most to be the point of no return and to others as the gateway of the Sierras.

  Travel had been difficult up to this point but nothing could come close to what was ahead. The trail was going to be a test of their inner strength. The strong would become stronger and move on, while the weak would become weaker and fall along the trail.

  Weight on the wagon would play a life and death role from here on out. Too much weight could damage the wagon wheels or the axles could easily snap under too heavy a load. A mule, horse, or ox could go down under the extra burden. Out on the trail replacing a wagon or stock would be next to impossible making everything you had with you of great value. Here would be the place for anyone forging ahead to sell off anything that was not absolutely necessary.

  The reduction of excess supplies would also bring cash money that would be needed at the end of the trail. If there was no money in Ft. Laramie to purchase their excess goods than perhaps the travelers could trade for what they needed.

  “Well boy, there she is. Ft Laramie. Ain’t she a beaut’?” asked Zeke.

  “I never saw so many wagons in all my life. They cover every square inch of that flat ground. And the fort’s walls must be twenty feet high.” Ray said with enthusiasm.

  “Can’t be too high when arrows start flyin’ in your direction,” joked Zeke.

  “Alright boy. Let’s ride down and see if we can stake out a spot for our group to camp.”

  They rode up and down several ravines and small hills until they found a spot that suited them.

  “This here spot should be good enough. Plenty of graze and water for the stock and lots of flat ground for the wagons,” pointed Zeke with a sweeping hand. “Now only one of us needs to stay here and guard this here spot. The other could go on over to the fort and wet his whistle.”

  “Go ahead Zeke, I’ll keep an eye on the spot until the wagons show up,” Ray said, knowingly.

  “You’re a good partner Ray. You’ll do to ride the river with,” smiled Zeke as he turned his horse and rode off towards the fort, licking his lips.

  Because it was going to be a long wait for the wagons, Ray decided to strip the saddle and blanket off Horse, letting him roll in the grass first before hobbling him. Although the ground was covered in a nice layer of tall grass, the ground itself was hard as rock. There wasn’t a log or tree stumped to sit on anywhere within eyeshot. The blanket and saddle would have to do for his chair until better accommodations rolled in.

  After a few hours out in the sun with his backside sitting on the blanket and his back resting against the saddle, Ray nodded off to sleep. He saw his Pa sitting at the mill talking and laughing with all of his friends. Ma was waiting for him and handed Ray a fresh slice of apple pie and rubbed the top of his head while he ate it. He loved how she used to do that. Her soft hands just flowed across his head with such a loving touch. Even as he dreamt he missed them almost to tears. Then from inside the house he heard a couple of horses riding up. Breaking the spell Ma had placed over him he headed to the door to see who was there.

  As he opened the door of their family’s cabin he began to wake from his slumber. With his hat still pulled down over his eyes to help him sleep and keep the sun off his face, he could tell there were horses standing directly in front of him.

  “This looks like a nice spot Pete,” said one of the riders.

  “I believe you’re right Buck, the only problem I see, is that it looks like this here fella is sittin’ right smack dab in front of us. Must think he’s got this spot all staked out,” sneered Pete.

  Buck smiled at his partner, “Well Jack, what do you reckon we ought a do bout’ that?”

  “I guess we’ll just have to ask him real nice like to move on,” laughed Pete.

  “I recon you’re right. Hey boy! You think it would be too much trouble for you to pick up your stuff and get the hell off our spot?” snickered Buck.

  Without moving a muscle Ray spoke from under the brim of his hat, “I guess you boys must ride for the Quincy Wood’s wagons. Surprised I never saw you on the trail before.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about boy, and I ain’t never heard of no damn Quincy Woods. Now get your shit picked up and get moving!” ordered Buck.

  “I guess then you’re some confused boys. This area will be covered by wagons from the Quincy Woods train within the next couple hours. But thanks for stopping by and to say hello,” Ray said as he tried to go back to sleep.

  “Damn it boy, you done pushed me beyond my breakin’ point. Now you light a shuck right now or you’re in for an ass whippin’ like you ain’t never had before!” threatened Buck.

  Ray was starting to get angry himself, but his Pa always taught him that if you’re fixin’ to get into a fight let the other fella lose his head. You stay calm and think about what needs doing. He also remembered what Zeke had taught him, "there’s no such thing as fightin’ fair, you fight to win or nothing." Now he knew that he might be able to talk his way out of a scrap but he was tired, bone tired. After riding all morning, for several mornings, he was not in the mood to be pushed around by these two cowboys.

  He slowly pushed the brim of his hat to the top of his head so he could look up at his adversaries. Looking them both directly in the eye, Ray began to rise from his rock hard blanket. Facing the men still on horseback he stretched the cobwebs from his afternoon nap, and walked over to within just a couple feet of the riders, “boys you wanted to open this dance, now either you two apologize to me and ride on or I suggest we get on with it.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch, Pete. This boy is really askin’ for it,” spouted Buck.

  “I think it’s about time you stopped flappin’ your jaw and get down here. Now do you feel like getting whooped one at a time or both of you together?” Ray said without cracking a smile. He was dead serious and didn’t give a damn.

  Both men looked at each other like one would look before stepping into a dark hole filled with rattlers. But they had made their brag and there was no way to back out, especially for Buck.

  “Okay Boy, if this is the way you want it. We tried to give you the choice to ride on but you chose a whoopin’, SO HERE IT COMES!” yelled Buck as he jumped from his horse. With all his weight behind him, Buck was hoping to crush Ray into the hard ground. Fortunately Ray was ready for him as Buck leaped towards him, Ray stepped back and raised his knee directly into his face. You could hear the undeniable sound of Buck’s nose breaking as blood flew out in all directions. Buck hit the ground and with a great groan looked to Ray as if he may have even broken or cracked a rib when he hit the ground. Before he could rise Ray landed a blow with his boot against the very spot he heard the cracking noise from the man’s chest. As he rolled over onto his back holding his rib and cringing in pain, Buck looked to be out of the fight, at least for now. Ray turned to face the other rider only to find him already dismounted and standing directly in front of him. His right fist was incoming and Ray didn’t have enough warning to dodge it. It made full contact on his chin and sent him over backwards in a daze. As Ray placed his
right arm under him and pushed up to regain his feet, Pete’s boot made contact with his jaw, sending Ray flying over onto his back. Lying there for a moment he tried to regain his senses. Pete reached down for Ray and lifted him back up to his feet. “Boy, you got a lot a fight in ya, I got to respect that, but I don’t respect someone who don’t count the odds before he takes a bite.” And with that Pete pulled back his right arm and launched a mean right cross. But this time Ray had fair warning and as the punch came roaring in, he dropped to his knees, freeing himself from Pete’s grip as he watched his hand fly over his head. With a strong, solid elbow, Ray landed a hit right where Jack buttoned his britches. As he was doubling over Ray rose, placed both hands on the back of Pete’s head and drove his face into Ray’s rising knee. He hit him so hard that at first Ray was afraid he might have killed him. Pete’s head flipped back from the concussion and his body followed him over backwards, hitting the ground unconscious. Ray stumbled back from the battle long enough to wipe the blood flowing from his lip and survey his handy work. Neither cowboy moved a muscle; both were going to be out for quite awhile. Ray moved over close to make sure they were both still here among the living. Figuring they’d both be fine after a few bones had a chance to heal, Ray admitted to himself that the fight had made him feel a little better about all the crap he had been going through. Ray looked around the area and saw his hat lying on the ground near where Buck had tried to jump him. He stumbled over and picked it up. Whacking it a couple times on his leg to get the grass and dirt off he returned it to his head. On wobbly legs he worked his way back to his rock hard makeshift bed and lay down. Gingerly he lifted himself up with his elbows and eased his back against the saddle pillow. Pulling his hat back down over his eyes Ray tried desperately to return to his Wisconsin dream.

  Once again he was awakened, but this time it was by the sound of wagons approaching. He pushed his hat brim back in order to see where they were on the horizon. Interestingly enough, both Jack and Buck had remounted and rode off quietly enough not to wake him.

  “Hey boy! Here comes the wagons!” yelled Zeke as he approached on horseback. “Did you have any trouble?”

  “None to speak of, Zeke,” Ray answered slowly.

  “Well you must have tore up this ground here while you were tryin’ to bloody your own lip,” smiled Zeke.

  Ray licked his lip only to cringe at a small sharp pain, “Well, you see Zeke, there was this grizzle bear that tried to mosey into our space. When he wouldn’t move on, it got pretty ugly,” Ray lied.

  “That’s exactly what I thought must have happened,” said Zeke, knowing all too well what had happened and feeling a little bad that he had not been there to side his partner. “Let’s get you mounted and go out to meet the wagons. They’ll be plum tuckered out and ready for some grub.”

  Ray brought Horse back over to his gear, threw the saddle over his back and set the bridle in his mouth. He swung a leg over Horse’s back and turned him toward the approaching wagons.