Wolfville Nights

by Alfred Henry Lewis

  CHAPTER X.

  The Ghost of the Bar-B-8.

  "Spectres? Never! I refooses 'em my beliefs utter"; and with theseemphatic words the Old Cattleman tasted his liquor thoughtfully on histongue. The experiment was not satisfactory; and he despatched hisdark retainer Tom for lemons and sugar. "An' you-all might better totealong some hot water, too;" he commanded. "This nosepaint feels rawan' over-fervid; a leetle dilootion won't injure it none."

  "But about ghosts?" I persisted.

  "Ghosts?" he retorted. "I never does hear of but one; that's aapparition which enlists the attentions of Peets and Old Man Enright alot. It's a spectre that takes to ha'ntin' about one of Enright'sBar-B-8 sign-camps, an' scarin' up the cattle an' drivin' 'em over aprecipice, an' all to Enright's disaster an' loss. Nacherally, Enrightdon't like this spectral play; an' him an' Peets lays for the wraithwith rifles, busts its knee some, an' Peets ampytates its laig. Thenthey throws it loose; allowin' that now it's only got one lai'g, thevisitations will mighty likely cease. Moreover Enright regyardsampytation that a-way, as punishment enough. Which I should shoreallow the same myse'f!

  "It ain't much of a tale. It turns out like all sperit stories; whenyou approaches plumb close an' jumps sideways at 'em an' seizes 'em bythe antlers, the soopernacheral elements sort o' bogs down.

  "It's over mebby fifty miles to the southeast of Wolfville, some'ers inthe fringes of the Tres Hermanas that thar's a sign-camp of Enright'sbrand. Thar's a couple of Enright's riders holdin' down this corner ofthe Bar-B-8 game, an' one evenin' both of 'em comes squanderin'in,--ponies a-foam an' faces pale as milk,--an' puts it up they don'treturn to that camp no more.

  "'Because she's ha'nted,' says one; 'Jim an' me both encounters thisyere banshee an' it's got fire eyes. Also, itse'f and pony isconstructed of bloo flames. You can gamble! I don't want none of itin mine; an' that's whatever!'

  "Any gent can see that these yooths is mighty scared. Enright elicitstheir yarn only after pourin' about a quart of nosepaint into 'em.

  "It looks like on two several o'casions that a handful of cattle getsrun over a steep bluff from the _mesa_ above. The fall is some sixtyfeet in the cl'ar, an' when them devoted cattle strikes the bottom it'splenty easy to guess they're sech no longer, an' thar's nothin' left of'em but beef. These beef drives happens each time in the night; an'the cattle must have been stampeded complete to make the trip. Cattle,that a-way, ain't goin' to go chargin' over a high bluff none onlesstheir reason is onhinged. No, the coyotes an' the mountain lions don'tdo it; they never chases cattle, holdin' 'em in fear an' tremblin.'These mountain lions prounces down on colts like a mink on a settin'hen, but never calves or cattle.

  "It's after the second beef killin' when the two riders allows they'lldo some night herdin' themse'fs an' see if they solves thesepheenomenons that's cuttin' into the Bar-B-8.

  "'An' it's mebby second drink time after midnight,' gasps thecow-puncher who's relatin' the adventures, 'an' me an' Jim isexperimentin' along the aige of the _mesa_, when of a suddent tharcomes two steers, heads down, tails up, locoed absoloote they be; an'flashin' about in the r'ar of 'em rides this flamin' cow-sperit on itsflamin' cayouse. Shore! he heads 'em over the cliff; I hears 'em hitthe bottom of the canyon jest as I falls off my bronco in a fit. Assoon as ever I comes to an' can scramble into that Texas saddle ag'in,me an' Jim hits the high places in the scenery, in a fervid way, an'yere we-all be! An' you hear me, gents, I don't go back to thatBar-B-8 camp no more. I ain't ridin' herd on apparitions; an' wheneverghosts takes to romancin' about in the cow business, that lets me out.'

  "'I reckons,' says Enright, wrinklin' up his brows, 'I'll take a lookinto this racket myse'f.'

  "'An' if you-all don't mind none, Enright,' says Peets, 'I'll get mychips in with yours. Thar's been no one shot for a month in either RedDog or Wolfville an' I'm reedic'lous free of patients. An' if theboys'll promise to hold themse'fs an' their guns in abeyance for a weekor so, an' not go framin' up excooses for my presence abrupt, I figgersthat a few days idlin' about the ranges, an' mebby a riot or tworoundin' up this cow-demon, will expand me an' do me good.'

  "'You're lookin' for trouble, Doc,' says Colonel Sterett, kind o'laughin' at Peets. 'You reminds me of a onhappy sport I encounterslong ago in Looeyville.'

  "'An' wherein does this Bloo Grass party resemble me?' asks Peets.

  "'It's one evenin',' says Colonel Sterett, 'an' a passel of us issettin' about in the Gait House bar, toyin' with our beverages. Thar'sa smooth, good-lookin' stranger who's camped at a table near. Final,he yawns like he's shore weary of life an' looks at us sharp an'cur'ous. Then he speaks up gen'ral as though he's addressin' the air."This is a mighty dull town!" he says. "Which I've been yere afortnight an' I ain't had no fight as yet." An' he continyoos to lookus over plenty mournful.

  "'"You-all needn't gaze on us that a-way," says a gent named Granger;"you can set down a stack on it, you ain't goin' to pull on no war withnone of us."

  "'"Shore, no!" says the onhappy stranger. Then he goes on apol'getic;"Gents, I'm onfort'nately constitootcd. Onless I has trouble atreasonable intervals it preys on me. I've been yere in your town twoweeks an' so far ain't seen the sign. Gents, it's beginnin' to tell;an' if any of you-all could direct me where I might get action it wouldbe kindly took."

  "'"If you're honin' for a muss," says Granger, "all you has to do is goa couple of blocks to the east, an' then five to the no'th, an' thar onthe corner you'll note a mighty prosperous s'loon. You caper in by theside door; it says FAMILY ENTRANCE over this yere portal. Sa'nter upto the bar, call for licker, drink it; an' then you remark to thebarkeep, casooal like, that you're thar to maintain that any outcastwho'll sell sech whiskey ain't fit to drink with a nigger or eat with adog. That's all; that barkeep'll relieve you of the load that'sburdenin' your nerves in about thirty seconds. You'll be the happiestsport in Looeyville when he gets through."

  "'"But can't you come an' p'int out the place," coaxes the onhappystranger of Granger. He's all wropped up in what Granger tells him."I don't know my way about good, an' from your deescriptions I shorelywouldn't miss visitin' that resort for gold an' precious stones. Comean' show me, pard; I'll take you thar in a kerriage."

  "'At that Granger consents to guide the onhappy stranger. They drivesover an' Granger stops the outfit, mebby she's fifty yards from thedoor. He p'ints it out to the onhappy stranger sport.

  "'Come with me," says the onhappy stranger, as he gets outen thekerriage. "Come on; you-all don't have to fight none. I jest wantsyou to watch me. Which I'm the dandiest warrior for the whole lengthof the Ohio!"

  "'But Granger is firm that he won't; he's not inquisitive, he says, an'will stay planted right thar on the r'ar seat an' await deevelopments.With that, the onhappy stranger sport goes sorrowfully for'ard alone,an' gets into the gin-mill by the said FAMILY ENTRANCE. Granger' setsthar with his head out an' y'ears cocked lookin' an' listenin'.

  "'Everything's plenty quiet for a minute. Then slam! bang! bing!crash! the most flagrant hubbub breaks forth! It sounds like thatstore's comin' down. The racket rages an' grows worse. Thar's asmashin' of glass. The lights goes out, while customers comes boundin'an' skippin' forth from the FAMILY ENTRANCE like frightened fawns. Atlast the uproars dies down ontil they subsides complete.

  "'Granger is beginnin' to upbraid himse'f for not gettin the onhappystranger's address, so's he could ship home the remainder. In themidst of Granger's se'f-accoosations, the lights in the gin-mill beginsto burn ag'in, one by one. After awhile, she's reilloominated an'ablaze with old-time glory. It's then the FAMILY ENTRANCE opens an'the onhappy stranger sport emerges onto the sidewalk. He's in hisshirtsleeves, an' a satisfied smile wreathes his face. He shore looksplumb content!

  "'"Get out of the kerriage an' come in, pard," he shouts to Granger."Come on in a whole lot! I'd journey down thar an' get you, but Ican't leave; I'm tendin' bar!"'

  "'You're shore right, Colonel,' says Peets, when Colonel
Sterett endsthe anecdote, 'the feelin' of that onhappy stranger sport is parallelto mine. Ghosts is new to me; an' I'm goin' pirootin' off with Enrighton this demon hunt an' see if I can't fetch up in the midst of a trifleof nerve-coolin' excitement.'

  "The ghost tales of the stampeded cow-punchers excites Dan Boggs aheap. After Enright an' Peets has organised an' gone p'inting out forthe ha'nted Bar-B-8 sign-camp to investigate the spook, Dan can't talkof nothin' else.

  "'Them's mighty dead game gents, Enright an' Doc Peets is!' says Dan.'I wouldn't go searchin' for no sperits more'n I'd write letters torattlesnakes! I draws the line at intimacies with fiends.'

  "'But mebby this yere is a angel,' says Faro Nell, from her stoolalongside of Cherokee Hall.

  "'Not criticisin' you none, Nell,' says Dan, 'Cherokee himse'f willtell you sech surmises is reedic'lous. No angel is goin' to visitArizona for obvious reasons. An' ag'in, no angel's doo to goskally-hootin' about after steers an' stampeedin' 'em over brinks.It's ag'in reason; you bet! That blazin' wraith, that a-way, is ashore-enough demon! An' as for me, personal, I wouldn't cut his trailfor a bunch of ponies!

  "'Be you-all scared of ghosts, Dan?' asks Faro Nell.

  "'Be I scared of ghosts?' says Dan. 'Which I wish, I could see a ghostan' show you! I don't want to brag none, Nellie, but I'll gamble fourfor one, an' go as far as you likes, that if you was to up an' show mea ghost right now, I wouldn't stop runnin' for a month. But whatappals me partic'lar,' goes on Dan, 'about Peets an' Enright, is theytakes their guns. Now a ghost waxes onusual indignant if you takes toshootin' him up with guns. No, it don't hurt him; but he regyards sechdemonstrations as insults. It's like my old pap says that time aboutthe Yankees. My old pap is a colonel with Gen'ral Price, an' on thisevenin' is engaged in leadin' one of the most intrepid retreats of thewar. As he's prancin' along at the head of his men where a greatcommander belongs, he's shore scandalised by hearin' his r'ar gyardfirin' on the Yanks. So he rides back, my old pap does, an' he says:"Yere you-all eediots! Whatever do you mean by shootin' at themYankees? Don't you know it only makes 'em madder?" An' that,'concloods Dan, 'is how I feels about spectres. I wouldn't go lammin'loose at 'em with no guns; it only makes 'em madder.'

  "It's the next day, an' Peets an' Enright is organised in the ha'ntedsign-camp of the Bar-B-8. Also, they've been lookin' round. By ridin'along onder the face of the precipice, they comes, one after t'other,on what little is left of the dead steers. What strikes 'em as a heappecooliar is that thar's no bones or horns. Two or three of the hoofsis kickin' about, an' Enright picks up one the coyotes overlooks. Itshows it's been cut off at the fetlock j'int by a knife.

  "'This spectre,' says Enright, passin' the hoof to Peets, 'packs abowie; an' he likewise butchers his prey. Also, ondoubted, he freightsthe meat off some'ers to his camp, which is why we don't notice no bigbones layin' 'round loose.' Then Enright scans the grass mightyscroopulous; an' shore enough! thar's plenty of pony tracks printedinto the soil. 'That don't look so soopernacheral neither,' saysEnright, p'intin' to the hoof-prints.

  "'Them's shorely made by a flesh an' blood pony,' says Peets. 'An'from their goin' some deep into the ground, I dedooces that saidcayouse is loaded down with what weight of beef an' man it can staggeronder.'

  "That evenin' over their grub Enright an' Peets discusses the business.Thar's a jimcrow Mexican plaza not three miles off in the hills. Bothof 'em is aware of this hamlet, an' Peets, partic'lar, is wellacquainted with a old Mexican sharp who lives thar--he's a kind o'schoolmaster among 'em--who's mighty cunnin' an' learned. His name isJose Miguel.

  "'An' I'm beginnin' to figger,' says Peets, 'that this ghostly rider isthe foxy little Jose Miguel. Which I've frequent talked with him; an'he saveys enough about drugs an' chemicals to paint up with phosphorusan' go surgin' about an' stampedin' cattle over bluffs. It's a mightygood idee from his standp'int. He can argue that the cattle killsthemse'fs--sort o' commits sooicide inadvertent--an' if we-all tradesup on him with the beef, he insists on his innocence, an' puts it upthat his cuttin' in on the play after said cattle done slays themse'fsinjures nobody but coyotes.'

  "'Doc,' coincides Enright, after roominatin' in silence, 'Doc, thelonger I ponders, the more them theories seems sagacious. Thatenterprisin' Greaser is jest about killin' my beef an' sellin' it tothe entire plaza. Not only does this ghost play opp'rate to stampedethe cattle an' set 'em runnin' cimmaron an' locoed so they'll chaseover the cliffs to their ends, but it serves to scare my cow-punchersoff the range, which last, ondoubted, this Miguel looks on as adeesideratum. However, it's goin' to be good an' dark to-night, an' ifwe-all has half luck I reckons that we fixes him.'

  "It's full two hours after midnight an' while thar's stars overheadthar's no moon; along the top of the _mesa_ it's as dark as the insideof a jug. Peets an' Enright is Injunin' about on the prowl for theghost. They don't much reckon it'll be abroad, as mebby the plaza hasbeef enough.

  "'However, by to-morry night,' says Enright in a whisper, 'or at theworst, by the night after, we're shore to meet up with this marauder.'

  "'Hesh!' whispers Peets, at the same time stoppin' Enright with hishand, 'he's out to-night!'

  "An' thar for shore is something like a dim bloo light movin' acrossthe plains. Now an' then, two brighter lights shows in spots like theblazes of candles; them's the fire eyes the locoed cowboys tells of.Whatever it is, whether spook or Greaser, it's quarterin' the groundlike one of these huntin' dogs. Its gait is a slow canter.

  "'He's on the scout,' says Enright,' 'tryin' to start a steer or two inthe dark; but he ain't located none yet.'

  "Enright an' Peets slides to the ground an' hobbles their broncos.They don't aim to have 'em go swarmin' over no bluffs in any blindnessof a first surprise. When the ponies is safe, they bends low an'begins makin' up towards the ground on which this bloo-shimmerin'shadow is ha'ntin' about. Things comes their way; they has luck.They've done crope about forty rods when the ghost heads for 'em. Theycan easy tell he's comin', for the fire eyes shows all the time an' notby fits an' starts as former. As the bloo shimmer draws nearer theymakes out the vague shadows of a man on a hoss. Son, she's shoreplenty ghostly as a vision, an' Enright allows later, it's no marvelthe punchers vamoses sech scenes.

  "'How about it,' whispers Peets; 'shall I do the shootin'?'

  "'Which your eyes is younger,' says Enright. 'You cut loose; an' I'llstand by to back the play. Only aim plenty low. You can't he'pover-shootin' in the dark. Hold as low as his stirrup.'

  "Peets pulls himse'f up straight as a saplin' an' runs his left handalong the bar'l as far as his arm'll reach. An' he hangs long on theaim as shootin' in the dark ain't no cinch. If this ghost is a brightghost it would be easy. But he ain't; he's bloo an' dim like washedout moonlight, or when it's jest gettin' to be dawn. Enright's twentyyards to one side so as to free himse'f of Peet's smoke in case he hasto make a second shot.

  "But Peets calls the turn. With the crack of that Sharp's of his, theghost sets up sech a screech it proves he ain't white an' also thathe'll live through the evenin's events. As the spectre yelps, the bloocayouse goes over on its head an' neck an' then falls dead on its side.The lead which only smashes the spectre's knee to splinters goes plumbthrough the pony's heart.

  "As Peets foresees, the ghost ain't none other than the wise littleJose Miguel, schoolmaster, who's up on drugs an' chemicals. The blooglimmer is phosphorus; an' the fire eyes is two of these little oldlamps like miners packs in their caps.

  "Enright an' Peets strolls up; this Miguel is groanin' an' mournin' an'cryin' 'Marie, Madre de Dios!' When he sees who downs him, he dragshimse'f to Enright an' begs a heap abject for his life. With that,Enright silently lets down the hammer of his rifle.

  "Peets when the sun comes up enjoys himse'f speshul with theopp'ration. Peets is fond of ampytations, that a-way, and he lops offsaid limb with zest an' gusto.

  "'I shore deplores, Jose,' says Peets, 'to go shortenin' up a fellowscientist
like this. But thar's no he'pin' it; fate has so decreed.Also, as some comfort to your soul, I'll explain to Sam Enright how youwon't ride much when I gets you fairly trimmed. Leastwise, after I'mdone prunin' you, thar won't be nothin' but these yere woman's saddlesthat you'll fit, an' no gent, be he white or be he Greaser, can workcattle from a side-saddle.' An' Peets, hummin' a roundelay, cutsmerrily into the wounded member."