Desert Dust

by Edwin L. Sabin

  CHAPTER XI

  WE GET A "SUPER"

  What with assorting and stowing the bales of cloth and the other goods inthe Jenks two wagons, watering the animals and staking them out anew,tinkering with the equipment and making various essays with the bull whip,I found occupation enough; nevertheless there were moments of interim, orwhile passing to and fro, when I was vividly aware of the scenes andevents transpiring in this Western world around about.

  The bugles sounded calls for the routine at Fort Steele--a merecantonment, yet, of tents and rough board buildings squatting upon thebare brown soil near the river bank, north of us, and less than a monthold. The wagon road was a line of white dust from the river clear toBenton, and through the murk plodded the water haulers and emigrants andfreighters, animals and men alike befloured and choked. The dust cloudrested over Benton. It fumed in another line westward, kept in suspense byon-traveling stage and wagon--by wheel, hoof and boot, bound for Utah andIdaho. From the town there extended northward a third dust line, markingthe stage and freighting road through the Indian country to the miningsettlements of the famous South Pass of the old Oregon Trail; yes, andwith branches for the gold regions of Montana.

  The railroad trains kept thundering by us--long freights, dusty andindomitable, bringing their loads from the Missouri River almost sevenhundred miles in the east. And rolling out of Benton the never-ceasingconstruction trains sped into the desert as if upon urgent errands inresponse to some sudden demand of More, More, More.

  Upon all sides beyond this business and energy the country stretched loneand uninhabited; a great waste of naked, hot, resplendent land blotchedwith white and red, showing not a green spot except the course of thePlatte; with scorched, rusty hills rising above its fantastic surface,and, in the distance, bluish mountain ranges that appeared to float andwaver in the sun-drenched air.

  The sounds from Benton--the hammering, the shouting, the babbling, thepuffing of the locomotives--drifted faintly to us, merged into thecracking of whips and the oaths and songs by the wagon drivers along theroad. Of our own little camp I took gradual stock.

  It, like the desert reaches, evinced little of feverishness, for whilebooted men busied themselves at tasks similar to mine, others lolled,spinning yarns and whittling; the several women, at wash-boards and atpots and pans and needles, worked contentedly in sun and shade; childrenplayed at makeshift games, dogs drowsed underneath the wagons, and outsideour circle the mules and oxen grazed as best they might, their onlyvexation the blood-sucking flies. The flies were kin of Benton.

  Captain Adams loped away, as if to town. Others went in. While I was idleat last and rather enjoying the hot sun as I sat resting upon a convenientwagon-tongue Daniel hulked to me, still snapping his ox goad.

  "Haowdy?" he addressed again; and surveyed, eying every detail of myclothing.

  "Howdy?" said I.

  "Yu know me?"

  "Your name is Daniel, isn't it?"

  "No, 'tain't. It's Bonnie Bravo on the trail."

  "All right, sir," said I. "Whichever you prefer."

  "I 'laow we pull out this arternoon," he volunteered farther.

  "I'm agreeable," I responded. "The sooner the better, where I'mconcerned."

  "I 'laow yu (and he pronounced it, nasally, yee-ou) been seein' theelephant in Benton an' it skinned yu."

  "I saw all of Benton I wish to see," I granted. "You've been there?"

  "I won four bits, an' then yu bet I quit," he greedily proclaimed. "I wastoo smart for 'em. I 'laow yu're a greenie, ain't yu?"

  "In some ways I am, in some ways I'm not."

  "I 'laow yu aim to go through with this train to Salt Lake, do yu?"

  "That's the engagement I've made with Mr. Jenks."

  "Don't feel too smart, yoreself, in them new clothes?"

  "No. They're all I have. They won't be new long."

  "Yu bet they won't. Ain't afeared of peterin' aout on the way, be yu? I'laow yu're sickly."

  "I'll take my chances," I smiled, although he was irritating in theextreme.

  "It's four hunderd mile, an' twenty mile at a stretch withaout water. Mostthe water's pizen, too, from hyar to the mountings."

  "I'll have to drink what the rest drink, I suppose."

  "I 'laow the Injuns are like to get us. They're powerful bad in that thardesert. Ain't afeared o' Injuns, be yu?"

  "I'll have to take my chances on that, too, won't I?"

  "They sculped a whole passel o' surveyors, month ago," he persisted."Yu'll sing a different tyune arter yu've been corralled with nothin' todrink." He viciously snapped his whip, the while inspecting me as ifseeking for other joints in my armor. "Yu aim to stay long in Zion?"

  "I haven't planned anything about that."

  "Reckon yu're wise, Mister. We don't think much o' Gentiles, yonder. Wedon't want 'em, nohaow. They'd all better git aout. The Saints settledthat country an' it's ourn."

  "If you're a sample, you're welcome to live there," I retorted. "I thinkI'd prefer some place else."

  "Haow?" he bleated. "Thar ain't no place as good. All the rest the worldhas sold itself to the devil."

  "How much of the world have you seen?" I asked.

  "I've seen a heap. I've been as fur east as Cheyenne--I've teamed acrosttwice, so I know. An' I know what the elders say; they come from the Eastan' some of 'em have been as fur as England. Yu can't fool me none withyore Gentile lies."

  As I did not attempt, we remained in silence for a moment while he waited,provocative.

  "Say, Mister," he blurted suddenly. "Kin yu shoot?"

  "I presume I could if I had to. Why?"

  "Becuz I'm the dangest best shot with a Colt's in this hyar train, an'I'll shoot ye for--I'll shoot ye for (he lowered his voice and glancedabout furtively)--I'll shoot ye for two bits when my paw ain't 'raound."

  "I've no cartridges to waste at present," I informed. "And I don't claimto be a crack shot."

  "Damn ye, I bet yu think yu are," he accused. "Yu set thar like it. Allright, Mister; any time yu want to try a little poppin' yu let me know."And with this, which struck me as a veiled threat, he lurched on,snapping that infernal whip.

  He left me with the uneasy impression that he and I were due to measurestrength in one way or another.

  Wagon Boss Adams returned at noon. The word was given out that the trainshould start during the afternoon, for a short march in order to break inthe new animals before tackling the real westward trail.

  After a deal of bustle, of lashing loads and tautening covers and geeing,hawing and whoaing, about three o'clock we formed line in obedience to thecommands "Stretch out, stretch out!"; and with every cask and barreldripping, whips cracking, voices urging, children racing, the CaptainAdams wagon in the lead (two pink sunbonnets upon the seat), the valorousDaniel's next, and Mormons and Gentiles ranging on down, we toiledcreaking and swaying up the Benton road, amidst the eddies of hot,scalding dust.

  It was a mixed train, of Gentile mules and the more numerous Mormon oxen;therefore not strictly a "bull" train, but by pace designated as such. Andin the vernacular I was a "mule-whacker" or even "mule-skinner" ratherthan a "bull-whacker," if there is any appreciable difference in role.There is none, I think, to the animals.

  Trudging manfully at the left fore wheel behind Mr. Jenks' four span ofmules, trailing my eighteen-foot tapering lash and occasionally well-nighcutting off my own ear when I tried to throw it, I played theteamster--although sooth to say there was little of play in the job, onthat road, at that time of the day.

  The sun was more vexatious, being an hour lower, when we bravely enteredBenton's boiling main street. We made brief halt for the finishing up ofbusiness; and cleaving a lane through the pedestrians and vehicles andanimals there congregated, the challenges of the street gamblers havingassailed us in vain, we proceeded--our Mormons gazing straight ahead,scornful of the devil's enticements, our few Gentiles responding in kindto the quips and waves and salutations.

  Thus we eventually left Benton;
in about an hour's march or some threemiles out we formed corral for camp on the farther side of the road fromthe railroad tracks which we had been skirting.

  Travel, except upon the tracks (for they were rarely vacant) ceased atsundown; and we all, having eaten our suppers, were sitting by our fires,smoking and talking, with the sky crimson in the west and the desertgetting mysterious with purple shadows, when as another construction trainof box cars and platform cars clanked by I chanced to note a figure springout asprawl, alight with a whiffle of sand, and staggering up hasten forus.

  First it accosted the hulk Daniel, who was temporarily out on herd,keeping the animals from the tracks. I saw him lean from his saddle; thenhe rode spurring in, bawling like a calf:

  "Paw! Paw! Hey, yu-all! Thar's a woman yonder in britches an' she 'laowsto come on. She's lookin' for Mister Jenks."

  Save for his excited stuttering silence reigned, a minute. Then in a stormof rude raillery--"That's a hoss on you, George!" "Didn't know you ownedone o' them critters, George," "Does she wear the britches, George?" andso forth--my friend Jenks arose, peering, his whiskered mouth so agapethat he almost dropped his pipe. And we all peered, with the women of thecaravan smitten mute but intensely curious, while the solitary figure,braving our stares, came on to the fires.

  "Gawd almighty!" Mr. Jenks delivered.

  Likewise straightening I mentally repeated the ejaculation, for now I knewher as well as he. Yes, by the muttered babble others in our party knewher. It was My Lady--formerly My Lady--clad in embroidered short Spanishjacket, tightish velvet pantaloons, booted to the knees, pulled down uponher yellow hair a black soft hat, and hanging from the just-revealed beltaround her slender waist, a revolver trifle.

  She paused, small and alone, viewing us, her eyes very blue, her face verywhite.

  "Is Mr. Jenks there?" she hailed clearly.

  "Damn' if I ain't," he mumbled. He glowered at me. "Yes, ma'am, righthyar. You want to speak with me?"

  "By gosh, it's Montoyo's woman, ain't it?" were the comments.

  "I do, sir."

  "You can come on closer then, ma'am," he growled. "There ain't no secretsbetween us."

  Come on she did, with only an instant's hesitation and a littlecompression of the lips. She swept our group fearlessly--her gaze crossedmine, but she betrayed no sign.

  "I wish to engage passage to Salt Lake."

  "With this hyar train?" gasped Jenks.

  "Yes. You are bound for Salt Lake, aren't you?"

  "For your health, ma'am?" he stammered.

  She faintly smiled, but her eyes were steady and wide.

  "For my health. I'd like to throw in with your outfit. I will cook, keepcamp, and pay you well besides."

  "We haven't no place for a woman, ma'am. You'd best take the stage."

  "No. There'll be no stage out till morning. I want to make arrangements atonce--with you. There are other women in this train." She flashed a glancearound. "And I can take care of myself."

  "If you aim to go to Salt Lake your main holt is Benton and the stage. Thestage makes through in four days and we'll use thirty," somebodycounseled.

  "An' this bull train ain't no place for yore kind, anyhow," grumbledanother. "We've quit roarin'--we've cut loose from that hell-holeyonder."

  "So have I." But she did not turn on him. "I'm never going back. I--Ican't, now; not even for the stage. Will you permit me to travel with you,sir?"

  "No, ma'am, I won't," rasped Mr. Jenks. "I can't do it. It's not in myline, ma'am."

  "I'll be no trouble. You have only Mr. Beeson. I don't ask to ride. I'llwalk. I merely ask protection."

  "So do we," somebody sniggered; and I hated him, for I saw her sway uponher feet as if the words had been a blow.

  "No, ma'am, I'm full up. I wouldn't take on even a yaller dog, 'speciallya she one," Jenks announced. "What your game is now I can't tell, and Idon't propose to be eddicated to it. But you can't travel along with me,and that's straight talk. If you can put anything over on these otherfellers, try your luck."

  "Oh!" she cried, wincing. Her hands clenched nervously, a red spot dyedeither cheek as she appealed to us all. "Gentlemen! Won't one of you helpme? What are you afraid of? I can pay my way--I ask no favors--I swear toyou that I'll give no trouble. I only wish protection across."

  "Where's Pedro? Where's Montoyo?"

  She turned quickly, facing the jeer; her two eyes blazed, the red spotsdeepened angrily.

  "He? That snake? I shot him."

  "What! You? Killed him?" Exclamations broke from all quarters.

  She stamped her foot.

  "No. I didn't have to. But when he tried to abuse me I defended myself.Wasn't that right, gentlemen?"

  "Right or wrong, he'll be after you, won't he?"

  The question held a note of alarm. Her lip curled.

  "You needn't fear. I'll meet him, myself."

  "By gosh, I don't mix up in no quarrel 'twixt a man and his woman."And--"'Tain't our affair. When he comes he'll come a-poppin'." Such werethe hasty comments. I felt a peculiar heat, a revulsion of shame andindignation, which made the present seem much more important than thepast. And there was the recollection of her, crying, and still the accentsof her last appeals in the early morning.

  "I thought that I might find men among you," she disdainfully said--abreak in her voice. "So I came. But you're afraid of _him_--of that breed,that vest-pocket killer. And you're afraid of me, a woman whose cards areall on the table. There isn't a one of you--even you, Mr. Beeson, sir,whom I tried to befriend although you may not know it." And she turnedupon me. "You have not a word to say. I am never going back, I tell youall. You won't take me, any of you? Very well." She smiled wanly. "I'lldrift along, gentlemen. I'll play the lone hand. Montoyo shall never seizeme. I'd rather trust to the wolves and the Indians. There'll be anotherwagon train."

  "I am only an employee, madam," I faltered. "If I had an outfit of my ownI certainly would help you."

  She flushed painfully; she did not glance at me direct again, but herunspoken thanks enfolded me.

  "Here's the wagon boss," Jenks grunted, and spat. "Mebbe you can throw inwith him. When it comes to supers, that's his say-so. I've all I can tendto, myself, and I don't look for trouble. I've got no love for Montoyo,neither," he added. "Damned if I ain't glad you give him a dose."

  Murmurs of approval echoed him, as if the tide were turning a little. Allthis time--not long, however--Daniel had been sitting his mule, transfixedand gaping, his oddly wry eyes upon her. Now the large form of CaptainAdams came striding in contentious, through the gathering dusk.

  "What's this?" he demanded harshly. "An ungodly woman? I'll have notrafficking in my train. Get you gone, Delilah. Would you pursue us evenhere?"

  "I am going, sir," she replied. "I ask nothing from you orthese--gentlemen."

  "Them's the two she's after, paw: Jenks an' that greenie," Daniel bawled."They know her. She's follered 'em. She aims to travel with 'em. Oh, gosh!She's shot her man in Benton. Gosh!" His voice trailed off. "Ain't shepurty, though! She's dressed in britches."

  "Get you gone," Captain Adams thundered. "And these your paramours withyou. For thus saith the Lord: There shall be no lusting of adultery amonghis chosen. And thus say I, that no brazen hussy in men's garments shalltravel with this train to Zion--no, not a mile of the way."

  Jenks stiffened, bristling.

  "Mind your words, Adams. I'm under no Mormon thumb, and I'll thank you notto connect me and this--lady in ary such fashion. As for your brat onhorseback, he'd better hold his yawp. She came of her own hook, and damnedif I ain't beginnin' to think----"

  I sprang forward. Defend her I must. She should not stand there, slight,lovely, brave but drooping, aflame with the helplessness of a woman aloneand insulted.

  "Wait!" I implored. "Give her a chance. You haven't heard her story. Allshe wants is protection on the road. Yes, I know her, and I know the curshe's getting away from. I saw him strike her; so did Mr. Jenks. What wereyou intending to d
o? Turn her out into the night? Shame on you, sir. Shesays she can't go back to Benton, and if you'll be humane enough tounderstand why, you'll at least let her stay in your camp till morning.You've got women there who'll care for her, I hope."

  I felt her instant look. She spoke palpitant.

  "You have one man among you all. But I am going. Good-night, gentlemen."

  "No! Wait!" I begged. "You shall not go by yourself. I'll see you intosafety."

  Daniel cackled.

  "Haw haw! What'd I tell yu, paw? Hear him?"

  "By gum, the boy's right," Jenks declared. "Will you go back to Benton ifwe take you?" he queried of her. "Are you 'feared of Montoyo? Can he shootstill, or is he laid out?"

  "I'll not go back to Benton, and I'm not afraid of that bully," said she."Yes, he can shoot, still; but next time I should kill him. I hope neverto see him again, or Benton either."

  The men murmured.

  "You've got spunk, anyhow," said they. And by further impulse: "Let herstay the night, Cap'n. It'll be plumb dark soon. She won't harm ye. Someo' the woman folks can take care of her."

  Captain Adams had been frowning sternly, his heavy face unsoftened.

  "Who are you, woman?"

  "I am the wife of a gambler named Montoyo."

  "Why come you here, then?"

  "He has been abusing me, and I shot him."

  "There is blood on your hands? Are you a murderess as well as a harlot?"

  "Shame!" cried voices, mine among them. "That's tall language."

  Strangely, and yet not strangely, sentiment had veered. We wereAmericans--and had we been English that would have made no difference. Itwas the Anglo-Saxon which gave utterance.

  She crimsoned, defiant; laughed scornfully.

  "You would not dare bait a man that way, sir. Blood on my hands? Notblood; oh, no! He couldn't pan out blood."

  "You killed him, woman?"

  "Not yet. He's likely fleecing the public in the Big Tent at this verymoment."

  "And what did you expect here, in my train?"

  "A little manhood and a little chivalry, sir. I am going to Salt Lake andI knew of no safer way."

  "She jumped off a railway train, paw," bawled Daniel. "I seen her. An' sheaxed for Mister Jenks, fust thing."

  "I'll give you something to stop that yawp. Come mornin', we'll settle,young feller," my friend Jenks growled.

  "I did," she admitted. "I have seen Mr. Jenks; I have also seen Mr.Beeson; I have seen others of you in Benton. I was glad to know ofsomebody here. I rode on the construction train because it was thequickest and easiest way."

  "And those garments!" Captain Adams accused. "You wish to show yourshape, woman, to tempt men's eyes with the flesh?"

  She smiled.

  "Would you have me jump from a train in skirts, sir? Or travel far afootin crinoline? But to soothe your mind I will say that I wore these clothesunder my proper attire and cloak until the last moment. And if you turn meaway I shall cut my hair and continue as a boy."

  "If you are for Salt Lake--where we are of the Lord's choosing and wishnone of you--there is the stage," he prompted shrewdly. "Go to the stage.You cannot make this wagon train your instrument."

  "The stage?" She slowly shook her head. "Why, I am too well known, sir,take that as you will. And the stage does not leave until morning. Muchmight happen between now and morning. I have nobody in Benton that I candepend upon--nobody that I dare depend upon. And by railway, for the East?No. That is too open a trail. I am running free of Benton and PedroMontoyo, and stage and train won't do the trick. I've thought that out."She tossed back her head, deliberately turned. "Good-night, ladies andgentlemen."

  Involuntarily I started forward to intercept. The notion of her headinginto the vastness and the gloom was appalling; the inertness of thatincreasing group, formed now of both men and women collected from all thecamp, maddened. So I would have besought her, pleaded with her, facedMontoyo for her--but a new voice mediated.

  "She shall stay, Hyrum? For the night, at least? I will look after her."

  The Captain's younger wife, Rachael, had stepped to him; laid one handupon his arm--her smooth hair touched ashine by the firelight as she gazedup into his face. Pending reply I hastened directly to My Lady herself anddetained her by her jacket sleeve.

  "Wait," I bade.

  Whereupon we both turned. Side by side we fronted the group as if we mighthave been partners--which, in a measure, we were, but not wholy accordingto the lout Daniel's cackle and the suddenly interrogating countenanceshere and there.

  "You would take her in, Rachael?" the Captain rumbled. "Have you not heardwhat I said?"

  "We are commanded to feed the hungry and shelter the homeless, Hyrum."

  "Verily that is so. Take her. I trust you with her till the morning. TheLord will direct us further. But in God's name clothe her for the daylightin decency. She shall not advertise her flesh to men's eyes."

  "Quick!" I whispered, with a push. Rachael, however, had crossed for us,and with eyes brimming extended her hand.

  "Will you come with me, please?" she invited.

  "You are not afraid of me?"

  "I? No. You are a woman, are you not?" The intonation was gentle, andsweet to hear--as sweet as her rosy face to see.

  "Yes," sighed My Lady, wearily. "Good-night, sir." She fleetingly smiledupon me. "I thank you; and Mr. Jenks."

  They went, Rachael's arm about her; other women closed in; we heardexclamations, and next they were supporting her in their midst, for shehad crumpled in a faint.

  Captain Adams walked out a piece as if musing. Daniel pressed beside him,talking eagerly. His voice reached me.

  "She's powerful purty, ain't she, paw! Gosh, I never seen a woman inbritches before. Did yu? Paw! She kin ride in my wagon, paw. Be yu goin'to take her on, paw? If yu be, I got room."

  "Go. Tend to your stock and think of other things," boomed his father."Remember that the Scriptures say, beware of the scarlet woman."

  Daniel galloped away, whooping like an idiot.

  "Wall, there she is," my friend Jenks remarked non-committally. "Whatnext'll happen, we'll see in the mornin'. Either she goes on or she goesback. I don't claim to read Mormon sign, myself. But she had me jumpin'sideways, for a spell. So did that young whelp."

  There was some talk, idle yet not offensive. The men appeared rather in ajudicial frame of mind: laid a few bets upon whether her husband wouldturn up, in sober fashion nodded their heads over the hope that he hadbeen "properly pinked," all in all sided with her, while admiring herpluck roundly denied responsibility for women in general, and genially butcautiously twitted Mr. Jenks and me upon our alleged implication in theaffair.

  Darkness, still and chill, had settled over the desert--the onlydiscernible horizon the glow of Benton, down the railroad track. The ashesof final pipes were rapped out upon our boot soles. Our group dispersed,each man to his blanket under the wagons or in the open.

  "Wall," friend Jenks again broadly uttered, in last words as he turnedover with a grunt, for easier posture, near me, "hooray! If it simmersdown to you and Dan'l, I'll be there."

  With that enigmatical comment he was silent save for stertorous breathing.Vaguely cogitating over his promise I lay, toes and face up, staring atthe bright stars; perplexed more and more over the immediate events of thefuture, warmly conscious of her astonishing proximity in this very train,prickled by the hope that she would continue with us, irritated by thevarious assumptions of Daniel, and somehow not at all adverse to thememory of her in "britches."

  That phase of the matter seemed to have affected Daniel and me similarly.Under his hide he was human.