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Authors: Ralph Compton

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BOOK: Devil's Canyon
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“They're a mite old,” said Tarno. “They must be near twenty-five.”

“Hell,” Dallas said, “ain't you heard? Good wine gets better with age.”

The conversation ended when Mamie banged a tin cup against the bottom of a pan. Supper was ready.


Mama mia
,” Shanghai said, as they dug in. “I can't believe this is the same grub we was eatin' before these ladies took to cookin' it.”

“Me neither,” said Dallas. “It was always particularly bad when it was your turn to cook.”

“Well, you wasn't any great shakes, yourself,” Shanghai growled.

“Shut up and eat,” Odessa ordered.

They shut up and ate. Faro laughed.

“Ladies,” said Faro, when supper was over, “we have two watches. The first one from dusk to midnight, and the second from midnight to dawn. The men on watch have orders to shoot anything that moves, so
there will be no moving around at night. I realize it may be some…inconvenient, but we don't know when the Utes will discover us.”

“I told you we growed up in Comanche country,” said Odessa. “We fully understand the need for that rule, and after we've turned in, we won't be up wanderin' about. Just be sure you don't spread your blankets on the down slope from me. You might get soaked in the flood.”

“I don't aim to sleep the whole night, with everybody else standing watch,” Mamie said. “I'll stand the first watch. We can dig a fire pit, keep the fire burnt down to coals, and I can keep a pot of coffee hot.”

“Well, if you can do that for the first watch,” said Odessa, “I can as well or better for the second. You got any objection to that, Mr. Duval?”

“None,” Faro said. “I welcome all the help I can get. First night out, some varmint got into camp and slugged Collins.”

“White man,” said Odessa, her eyes on Durham. “An Indian would of slit his throat.”

“That's what we figure,” Faro replied, “and those four sets of tracks you found seem proof enough.”

“We've shot Comanches by the light of the moon,” said Mamie. “White renegades ain't all that different.”

With Mamie on the first watch, and Odessa on the second, they said little, kept coffee hot, and their guns ready. The night passed uneventfully.

“Makes you wonder,” Dallas said next morning, “why some decent
hombres
ain't long since dropped a loop on them two. What in tarnation did they ever see in Durham?”

“Many a decent
hombre
rode off to war and never returned,” Faro said. “How many of our
amigos
did we leave at Shiloh, Gettysburg, and Missionary Ridge?”

“Too many,” said Shanghai, “and them that survived—like us—returned to a land on the ragged edge of starvation. Every day I'm alive, I thank God we had the sense to go to Independence and become freighters.”

Mamie and Odessa had breakfast ready in record time. When they were preparing to move out, Odessa harnessed the mules to Durham's wagon, climbed to the box, and took the reins. Nobody questioned her, and Durham saddled his horse. Collins had tied his horse behind Faro's wagon and had mounted the box. Faro rode his horse alongside the moving wagon for some parting words with Collins.

“I should catch up to you in a couple of hours,” Faro said. “I aim to ride back as far as I must to intercept those tracks and see where they lead.”

Collins nodded, and Faro rode away, aware that Durham was taking particular notice of his going.

*   *   *

As a precaution—aware that the McCutcheon sisters were now part of the teamsters' outfit—Slade and his companions no longer followed the trail the wagons had taken.

“Damn it,” Hindes complained, “we don't
know
that them females said anything about seein' our tracks. This is a fool idea, ridin' through the brush, with limbs swattin' us in the face, and thorns rakin' us over.”

“We don't know that they
didn't
tell of seein' our tracks,” said Slade. “This way, we can find out for
sure. If them teamsters suspect anything, one of 'em will be ridin' along the back trail, lookin' for our tracks.”

“If they
do
come lookin' for us, it proves one thing,” Kritzer observed. “It tells us this is more than just a load of grub to get some settlers through the winter.”

“Damn right,” said Slade. “There's more at stake here than five wagon loads of grub, and Durham's done somethin' to arouse their suspicion. He got on the bad side of that pair of females in a hurry.”

“Maybe he's a ladies' man, and they followed him from somewhere,” Withers said.

“Oh, hell,” said Peeler, “he'd have had to know them before he fell in with us. If he come from Amarillo, like he said, that means they follered him from there. How does a man
do
that?”

Hindes laughed. “We missed out on the big money, gents. We should of stripped the varmint down, opened a freak show, and sold tickets.”

“Quiet, damn it,” Slade said.

Faro Duval reined up, listening. Each of the outlaws had quickly seized the muzzle of his horse to prevent a betraying nicker. They were downwind from the approaching rider, and they watched as Faro continued along the back trail.

“There it is, by God,” Slade said softly. “There's a hell of a lot more to this than we can see, or they wouldn't be scouting the back trail.”

“He won't have any trouble findin' where we moved off into the brush,” said Kritzer, “and when he finds the ashes of our fire, he can trail us from there. Let him
learn we're ridin' parallel to the trail the wagons is takin', and he'll
know
what we're doing.”

“Yeah,” Hindes said, “and if they got any sand, they won't wait for us to make our move. They'll come
lookin'
for us. You got any ideas, Mr. Slade?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Slade, “I have. It'll take him a while to find where we left the trail and figure out what we have in mind. We're going to get ahead of the wagons. So far ahead, they won't know
where
we are, and they won't dare send just one rider to look for us.”

“That's as good as tellin' 'em we got an ambush in mind,” Hindes said.

“Then you come up with somethin' better,” said Slade, with a snarl.

“Back off, Hindes,” Kritzer said. “That's not a bad idea. We don't know for sure just where these wagons are goin', and until we have some idea, gunning everybody down in an ambush would be foolish. They'll know an ambush is comin', but they won't know when or where. We'll still have an edge.”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Peeler said. “Somewhere ahead, there's hostile Utes. I reckon
they'll
have the edge.”

“It'll be up to us to stay out of their way,” said Slade. “It ain't often they get a shot at five wagon loads of grub and goods, and I'm gamblin' they won't pass it up.”

Hindes laughed. “You shouldn't never gamble, Slade. I've seen you raise on a pair of deuces.”

“I'm ridin' on,” Slade gritted. “Any of you that ain't
got the sand to follow, now's the time to split the blanket.”

Slade kicked his horse into a lope, and one by one, his three companions followed.

*   *   *

Faro found where the four horsemen had veered off into the brush and made camp for the night. From there, instead of returning to the Rio Chama and following the five wagons, the four riders kept to the brush, seeking a higher elevation.

“From here,” Faro said aloud, “they might have seen the McCutcheon sisters ride by, and suspected their tracks had been noticed. For that matter, they likely saw me followin' the back trail.”

Faro followed the faint trail only a little farther, until the strides of all four horses lengthened into a fast gallop. Were they—aware they were about to be discovered—trying to get ahead of the wagons and ambush them before Faro returned with a warning? Down the slope he galloped his horse, and free of brush and low-hanging limbs, rode hard to catch up to the wagons. Durham was the first to see him coming, and he did nothing. But on the box of the fifth wagon, Odessa McCutcheon heard the urgency in the hoofbeats of the approaching horse.

“Rein up,” Odessa shouted, reining up her own teams.

The other four wagons halted, and men came off the high boxes, Winchesters in their hands. Faro dismounted, holding the reins of his lathered horse as it tried to reach the river.

“You found 'em,” Odessa said.

“Yes,” said Faro, “and after leaving our trail, they spent the night in the brush. From there—sometime this morning—they rode to a higher elevation. They had to see me as I rode the back trail, and now they're somewhere ahead of us.”

“So we got an ambush to look forward to,” Shanghai said.

“Eventually,” said Faro, “but not yet. I thought they might be planning to cut down on you before I could ride back and warn you. Since they didn't, they're going to keep us spooked, if they can, by always bein' somewhere ahead.”

“When bush-whackin' bastards are stalkin' me,” Shanghai said, “I don't get spooked. I get mad as hell. Let's leave these wagons where they are, saddle our horses, and ride the varmints down.”

“I'm ready,” Tarno shouted.

“So am I,” said Dallas.

“No,” Faro said, “they may be expecting that. Many a man, mad as hell, has been shot dead as hell, because he walked or rode into a trap. Besides, as long as they're ahead of us, they can blunt the attack of any hostile Utes looking for a fight.”

“Sound thinking, my friend,” said Levi Collins.

“If they're anything like Comanches,” Mamie McCutcheon said, “they might pass up this other bunch, and come after the wagons. Quanah Parker and his Comanches dearly love to loot wagons. Especially when there's weapons and ammunition to be had.”

“From what I've seen of Utes,” said Collins, “they'll come after whoever is the first to show up. To their
way of thinking, they can scalp these four renegades, and
still
waylay these wagons.”

“Which gets us back to the possibility the Utes may take care of these
hombres
that appear to be stalking us,” Faro said.

“I believe these men following us are not all that concerned with the freight aboard the wagons,” said Collins. “If they were, why not attempt to take the wagons
now
, before we're hundreds of miles into the mountains?”

“They suspect that where you're going, there's something more valuable than what's in the wagons,” Odessa said, “and right now, they're not sure just
where
you're headed. Until they are, they can't afford to murder us all.”

“That sums it up very well, madam,” said Collins. “When I was slugged, our first night on the trail, my attacker was seeking to learn where we are going, and why. Since he obviously learned nothing, it appears to have made them all the more determined that there is some treasure at the end of the rainbow.”

“They just ain't sure where the end of the rainbow is,” Dallas said.

“Exactly,” said Collins, “and I don't look for them to become dangerous until they're convinced they can complete the journey without us.”

“Yeah,” Tarno said, “but we don't know
when
they're likely to make that decision.”

Durham laughed. “I'll be watching all of you sweat. I got nothing to lose.”

“Oh, but you have,” said Odessa. “If we get ambushed,
and it looks like we're all out of luck, I'm saving my last slug for you.”

“I think, from here on,” Faro said, “we'll have to scout the trail ahead. Not just for signs of these horsemen who are stalking us, but for hostile Utes as well. Collins, if you'll continue to take the reins for me, I'll scout ahead every morning. I'll ride at least as far as the wagons are able to travel in a day.”

“Certainly I'll take over the wagon for you,” said Collins, “but it strikes me that you will be taking all the risk.”

“Maybe,” Faro said, “but it's a risk someone has to take. I don't believe these riders who are stalking us will give away their game just to ambush one man, and I think they'll alert us to a possible attack by Utes by acting as bait. As long as they're somewhere ahead of us, the Utes will have to deal with them first. Any conflict between the two groups will warn us. Now that these four riders are ahead of us, it's important that they stay there. I'll be trailing them, makin' sure they don't double back.”

“A good day's run is twenty miles,” said Dallas. “If you aim to ride that far ahead, and one of those bunches decides to go after you, the rest of us won't be able to get to you in time to help.”

“I understand that,” Faro said, “but if either group gets in a position to ambush us, we must know in time to mount a defense. If we're grouped, and they come after us all at the same time, they could wipe us out in a single volley. Behind your wagons, each of you has a horse on a lead rope. Keep those horses saddled, and
if you should hear shooting somewhere ahead, then mount up and come a-runnin'.”

“For what purpose?” Durham demanded. “You've already admitted that if everything goes sour and you're attacked, the rest of us will be too far behind to help you.”

“Durham,” said Faro, “if I ride into an ambush, that doesn't necessarily mean the rest of you are free of it. If I'm attacked, you may not arrive in time to help me, but there's a chance I can stand them off until the rest of you can swing in behind them, or flank them. You can only defend yourselves against an ambush by having something or somebody to attack. A group attacking one man will attempt to surround him, and that brings them out into the open. You won't get a better chance than that.”

BOOK: Devil's Canyon
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