Wolfville Nights

by Alfred Henry Lewis

  CHAPTER XX.

  Colonel Coyote Clubbs.

  "Which as a roole," said the Old Cattleman, "I speaks with deferencean' yields respects to whatever finds its source in nacher, but thisyere weather simply makes sech attitoode reedic'lous, an' any encomiumspassed thar-on would sound sarkastic." Here my friend waved adisgusted hand towards the rain-whipped panes and shook his head."Thar's but one way to meet an' cope successful with a day like this,"he ran on, "an' that is to put yourse'f in the hands of a joodiciousbarkeep--put yourse'f in his hands an' let him pull you through.Actin' on this idee I jest despatches my black boy Tom for a pitcher ofpeach an' honey, an', onless you-all has better plans afoot, you mightas well camp an' wait deevelopments, same as old man Wasson does whenhe's treed by the b'ar."

  Promptly came the peach and honey, and with its appearance the peltingstorm outside lost power to annoy. My companion beamingly did mehonour in a full glass. After a moment fraught of silence and peachand honey, and possibly, too, from some notion of pleasing my host witha compliment, I said: "That gentleman with whom you were in converselast evening told me he never passed a more delightful hour than hespent listening to you. You recall whom I mean?"

  "Recall him? Shore," retorted my friend as he recurred to the pitcherfor a second comforter. "You-all alloodes to the little gent who'slame in the nigh hind laig. He appeals to me, speshul, as he puts mein mind of old Colonel Coyote Clubbs who scares up Doc Peets that time.Old Coyote is lame same as this yere person."

  "Frighten Peets!" I exclaimed, with a great air; "you amaze me! Giveme the particulars."

  "Why, of course," he replied, "I wouldn't be onderstood that Peets isterrorised outright. Still, old Colonel Coyote shore stampedes him an'forces Peets to fly. It's either _vamos_ or shoot up pore Coyote; an'as Peets couldn't do the latter, his only alternative is to goscatterin' as I states.

  "This yere Coyote has a camp some ten miles to the no'th an' off to oneside of the trail to Tucson. Old Coyote lives alone an' has builthimse'f a dugout--a sort o' log hut that's half in an' half outen theground. His mission on earth is to slay coyotes--'Wolfin'' he callsit--for their pelts; which Coyote gets a dollar each for the furs, an'the New York store which buys 'em tells Coyote to go as far as helikes. They stands eager to purchase all he can peel offen themanamiles.

  "No; Coyote don't shoot these yere little wolves; he p'isens 'em.Coyote would take about twelve foot, say, of a pine tree he's cutdown--this yere timber is mebby eight inches through--an' he'll bore init a two-inch auger hole every two foot. These holes is some deep;about four inches it's likely. Old Coyote mixes his p'isen with beeftallow, biles them ingredients up together a lot, an' then, while she'smelted that a-way, he pours it into these yere auger holes an' lets itcool. It gets good an' hard, this arsenic-tallow does, an' then Coyotedrags the timber thus reg'lated out onto the plains to what he regyardsas a elegible local'ty an' leaves it for the wolves to come an' battenon. Old Coyote will have as many as a dozen of these sticks of timber,all bored an' framed up with arsenic-tallow, scattered about. Eachmornin' while he's wolfin', Coyote makes a round-up an' skins an'counts up his prey. An' son, you hear me! he does a flourishin' trade.

  "Why don't Coyote p'isen hunks of meat you asks? For obvious reasons.In sech events the victim bolts the piece of beef an' lopes off mebbyfive miles before ever he succumbs. With this yere augur hole playit's different. The wolf has to lick the arsenic-tallow out with histongue an' the p'isen has time an' gets in its work. That wolf sort o'withers right thar in his tracks. At the most he ain't further awaythan the nearest water; arsenic makin' 'em plenty thirsty, as you-allmost likely knows.

  "Old Coyote shows up in Wolfville about once a month, packin' in hispelts an' freightin' over to his wickeyup whatever in the way of grubhe reckons he needs. Which, if you was ever to see Coyote once, youwould remember him. He's shore the most egreegious person, an' inappearance is a cross between a joke, a disaster an' a cur'osity. Idon't reckon now pore Coyote ever sees the time when he weighs ahundred pound; an' he's grizzled an' dried an' lame of one laig, whilehis face is like a squinch owl's face--kind o' wide-eyed an' with aexpression of ignorant wonder, as if life is a never-endin' surpriseparty.

  "Most likely now what fixes him firmest in your mind is, he don't drinknone. He declines nosepaint in every form; an' this yere abstinence,the same bein' yoonique in Wolfville, together with Coyote conductin'himse'f as the p'litest an' best-mannered gent to be met with in all ofArizona, is apt to introode on your attention. Colonel Sterett oncementions Coyote's manners.

  "'Which he could give Chesterfield, Coyote could, kyards an' spades,'observes the Colonel. I don't, myse'f, know this Chesterfield none,but I can see by the fashion in which Colonel Sterett alloodes to himthat he's a Kaintuckian an' a jo-darter on manners an' etiquette.

  "As I says, a pecooliar trait of Coyote is that he won't drink nothin'but water. Despite this blemish, however, when the camp gets so itknows him it can't he'p but like him a heap. He's so quiet an' honestan' ignorant an' little an' lame, an' so plumb p'lite besides, he growson you. I can almost see the weasened old outlaw now as he comesrockin' into town with his six or seven burros packed to their y'earswith pelts!

  "This time when Coyote puts Doc Peets in a toomult is when he's firstpitched his dug-out camp an' begins to honour Wolfville with hisvisits. As yet none of us appreciates pore Coyote at his troo worth,an' on account of them guileless looks of his sech humourists as DanBoggs an' Texas Thompson seizes on him as a source of merriment.

  "It's Coyote's third expedition into town, an' he's hoverin' about theNew York store waitin' for 'em to figger up his wolf pelts an' cut outhis plunder so he freights it back to his dug-out. Dan an' Texas isalso procrastinatin' 'round, an' they sidles up allowin' to have theirlittle jest. Old Coyote don't know none of 'em--quiet an' sober an'p'lite like I relates, he's slow gettin' acquainted--an' Dan an' Texas,as well as Doc Peets, is like so many onopened books to him. For thatmatter, while none of them pards of mine knows Coyote, they manages togain a sidelight on some of his characteristics before ever they getsthrough. Doc Peets later grows ashamed of the part he plays, an' twomonths afterwards when Coyote is chewed an' clawed to a standstill by ainfooriated badger which he mixes himse'f up with, Peets binds him upan' straightens out his game, an' declines all talk of recompensecomplete.

  "'It's merely payin' for that outrage I attempts on your feelin's whenyou rebookes me so handsome,' says Peets, as he turns aside Coyote's_dinero_ an' tells him to replace the same in his war-bags.

  "However does Coyote get wrastled by that badger? It's another yarn,but at least she's brief an' so I'll let you have it. Badgers, yousaveys, is sour, sullen, an' lonesome. An' a badger's feelin's isallers hurt about something; you never meets up with him when he ain'thostile an' half-way bent for war. Which it's the habit of these yeremorose badgers to spend a heap of their time settin' half in an' halfouten their holes, considerin' the scenery in a dissatisfied way likethey has some grudge ag'inst it. An' if you approaches a badger whilethus employed he tries to run a blazer on you; he'll show his teeth an'stand pat like he meditates trouble. When you've come up within thirtyfeet he changes his mind an' disappears back'ard into his hole; but allmalignant an' reluctant.

  "Now, while Coyote saveys wolves, he's a heap dark on badgers thata-way. An' also thar's a badger who lives clost to Coyote's dug-out.One day while this yere ill-tempered anamile is cocked up in the mouthof his hole, a blinkin' hatefully at surroundin' objects. Coyote cutsdown on him with a Sharp's rifle he's got kickin' about his camp an'turns that weepon loose.

  "He misses the badger utter, but he don't know it none. Comin' to thehole, Coyote sees the badger kind o' quiled up at the first bend in theburrow, an' he exultin'ly allows he's plugged him an' tharupon reachesin to retrieve his game. That's where Coyote makes the mistake of hisc'reer; that's where he drops his watermelon!

  "That badger's alive an' onhurt an' as hot as a lady who's lost
money.Which he's simply retired a few foot into his house to reconsiderCoyote an' that Sharp's rifle of his. Nacherally when the ontaughtCoyote lays down on his face an' goes to gropin' about to fetch thatbadger forth the latter never hes'tates. He grabs Coyote's hand withtooth and claw, braces his back ag'in the ceilin' of his burrow an'stands pat.

  "Badgers is big people an' strong as ponies too. An' obdurate! Son, abadger is that decided an' set in his way that sech feather-blownthings as hills is excitable an' vacillatin' by comparison. This yereparticular badger has the fam'ly weaknesses fully deeveloped, an' themoment he cinches onto Coyote, he shore makes up his mind never to letgo ag'in in this world nor the next.

  "As I tells you, Coyote is little an' weak, an' he can no more movethat hardened badger, nor yet fetch himse'f loose, than he can sproutwings an' soar. That badger's got Coyote; thar he holds him prone an'flat ag'in the ground for hours. An' at last Coyote swoons away.

  "Which he'd shore petered right thar, a prey to badgers, if it ain'tfor a cowpuncher--he's one of Old Man Enright's riders--who comesromancin' along an' is attracted to the spot by some cattle who'sprancin' an' waltzin' about, sizin' Coyote up as he's layin' thar, an'snortin' an' curvin' their tails in wonder at the spectacle. Which thevisitin' cow sharp, seein' how matters is headed, shoves hissix-shooter in along-side of Coyote's arm, drills this besotted badger,an' Coyote is saved. It's a case of touch an' go at that. But tocaper back to where we leaves Dan an' Texas on the verge of themjocyoolarities.

  "'No, gentlemen,' Coyote is sayin', in response to some queries of Danan' Texas; 'I've wandered hither an' yon a heap in my time, an' now Ihas my dug-out done, an' seein' wolves is oncommon plenty, I allows Iputs in what few declinin' days remains to me right where I be. I mustsay, too, I'm pleased with Wolfville an' regyards myse'f as fortunatean' proud to be a neighbour to sech excellent folks as you-all."

  "'Which I'm shore sorry a lot,' says Dan, 'to hear you speak as youdoes. Thar's a rapacious sport about yere who the instant he finds howyou makes them dug-out improvements sends on an' wins out a gov'mentpatent an' takes title to that identical quarter-section which embracesyour camp. Now he's allowin' to go squanderin' over to Tucson an' geta docyment or two from the jedge an' run you out.'

  "Son, this pore innocent Coyote takes in Dan's fictions like so muchspring water; he believes 'em utter. But the wonder is to see how hechanges. He don't say nothin', but his-eyes sort o' sparks up an' hisface gets as gray as his ha'r. It's now that Doc Peets comes along.

  "'Yere is this devourin' scoundrel now,' says Texas Thompson, p'intin'to Peets. 'You-all had better talk to him some about it.' Thenturnin' to Peets with a wink, Texas goes on: 'Me an' Mister Boggs istellin' our friend how you gets a title to that land he's camped on,an' that you allows you'll take possession mebby next week.'

  "'Why, shore,' says Peets, enterin' into the sperit of the hoax, an'deemin' it a splendid joke; 'be you-all the maverick who's on thatquarter-section of mine?'

  "'Which I'm Colonel Coyote Clubbs,' says Coyote, bowin' low while hislips trembles, 'an' I'm at your service.'

  "'Well,' says Peets, 'it don't make much difference about your name,all you has to do is hit the trail. I needs that location you've donesquatted on because of the water.'

  "'An' do I onderstand, sir,' says Coyote some agitated, 'that you'llcome with off'cers to put me outen my dug-out?'

  "'Shore,' says Peets, in a case-hardened, pitiless tone, 'an' why not?Am I to be debarred of my rights by some coyote-slaughterin' invaderan' onmurmurin'ly accede tharto? Which I should shore say otherwise.'

  "'Then I yereby warns you, sir,' says Coyote, gettin' pale as paper.'I advises you to bring your coffin when you comes for that land, forI'll down you the moment you're in range.'

  "'In which case,' says Peets, assoomin' airs of blood-thirstytrucyoolence, 'thar's scant use to wait. If thar's goin' to be anypowder burnin' we might better burn it now.'

  "'I've no weepon, sir,' says Coyote, limpin' about in a circle, 'but ifary of these gentlemen will favour me with a gun I'll admire to putmyse'f in your way.'

  "Which the appearance of Coyote when he utters this, an' him showin' onthe surface about as war-like as a prairie-dog, convulses Dan an'Texas. It's all they can do to keep a grave front while pore Coyote inhis ignorance calls the bluff of one of the most deadly an' gamestgents who ever crosses the Missouri--one who for nerve an' finish is aeven break with Cherokee Hall.

  "'Follow me,' says Peets, frownin' on Coyote like a thunder cloud;'I'll equip you with a weepon myse'f. I reckons now that your deathan' deestruction that a-way is after all the best trail out.

  "Peets moves off a heap haughty, an' Coyote limps after him. Peetsgoes over where his rooms is at. 'Take a cha'r,' says Peets, as theywalks in, an' Coyote camps down stiffly in a seat. Peets crosses to arack an' searches down a 8-inch Colt's. Then he turns towards Coyote.'This yere discovery annoys me,' says Peets, an' his words comes coldas ice, 'but now we're assembled, I finds that I've only got one gun.'

  "'Well, sir,' says Coyote, gettin' up an' limpin' about in his nervousway, his face workin' an' the sparks in his eyes beginnin' to leap intoflames; 'well, sir, may I ask what you aims to propose?'

  "'I proposes to beef you right yere,' says Peets, as f'rocious as agrizzly. 'Die, you miscreant!' An' Peets throws the gun on Coyote,the big muzzle not a foot from his heart.

  "Peets, as well as Dan an' Texas, who's enjoyin' the comedy through awindow, ondoubted looks for Coyote to wilt without a sigh. An' if hehad done so, the joke would have been both excellent an' complete. ButCoyote never wilts. He moves so quick no one ever does locate thedarkened recess of his garments from which he lugs out that knife; thefirst p'inter any of 'em gets is that with the same breath whereinPeets puts the six-shooter on him, Coyote's organised in full with abowie.

  "'Make a centre shot, you villyun!' roars Coyote, an' straight asadders he la'nches himse'f at Peets's neck.

  "Son, it's the first an' last time that Doc Peets ever runs. An' hedon't run now, he flies. Peets comes pourin' through the door an' intothe street, with Coyote frothin' after him not a yard to spar'. Thebest thing about the whole play is that Coyote's a cripple; it's thisyere element of lameness that lets Peets out. He can run thirty footto Coyote's one, an' the result occurs in safety by the breadth of aha'r.

  "It takes two hours to explain to Coyote that this eepisode is humour,an' to ca'm him an' get his emotions bedded down. At last, yoonitedWolfville succeeds in beatin' the trooth into him, an' he permits Peetsto approach an' apol'gise.

  "'An' you can gamble all the wolves you'll ever kill an' skin,' saysDoc Peets, as he asks Coyote to forgive an' forget, 'that this yere isthe last time I embarks in jests of a practical character or gives wayto humour other than the strickly oral kind. Barkeep, my veneratedfriend, yere will have a glass of water; but you give me Valley Tan.'"