by Tell Cotten
I didn’t reply as I grabbed the coffee pot. I filled it with fresh water from the creek, and I built up the fire and got the coffee on. Meanwhile, my two companions picketed their horses next to mine and sat across the fire.
My dun nickered at the two new horses. They touched noses and went back to grazing, happy and content.
They liked and accepted each other, but I doubted that their owners would do likewise.
Chapter five
I was worried about Josie. She would be coming back soon, and I was hoping these men would be gone by then. Josie was a beautiful woman, and that could cause trouble.
There was nothing to do but wait for the coffee to boil. So, I sat across the fire from them, and I cradled my rifle nonchalant-like in my arms.
It was silent as we stared at each other. Every second seemed like a minute, and the tension was so thick I could have cut it with a knife.
“Coffee should be ready soon,” I finally said.
“Nothing beats a good cup of coffee,” the older man declared.
“Amen,” I said solemnly.
We sat a while longer, and I asked, “You boys traveling up the mountain or down?”
“Sideways,” the older man explained. “We’re meeting up with the rest of our outfit to the south of here.”
I nodded and prodded for more information.
“You boys with a big hunting party or something?”
“Sorta.”
I waited for him to say more, but he never did.
“Good, good,” I said, searching for words.
I didn’t find any, so the conversation died. They just sat there, staring solemnly at me, and I couldn’t help but stare back.
“How ’bout you?” The older man finally asked. “You going up, or down?”
“Down.”
“We rode by the trading post in Valverde’s pass,” he said. “It was burned to the ground.”
I don’t know why, but I decided to look surprised.
“You don’t say?” I shook my head in wonder. “How about that!”
“Yep, this is dangerous territory,” he said, and added, “Especially for a man that’s traveling alone.”
“I believe you mentioned that already,” I frowned.
He nodded, and it fell silent as we returned to our staring routine.
After a while the older man took his eyes off me. He studied my camp, and I didn’t like the eager look that crossed his face when he spotted my pelts.
“Say!” He exclaimed. “That’s a mighty fine looking pack of pelts! How many you got there?”
He started to get up, but I instinctively raised the barrel of my rifle a few inches.
“Let’s not find out,” I said firmly.
“Take it easy!” He laughed, and he carefully eased back down. “I’m just making friendly conversation, is all.”
“I suggest we talk about something else.”
“Sure,” he flashed me a grin.
The sound of boiling coffee interrupted us. I stayed back and let them fill their cups, and then, keeping one hand on my rifle, I leaned forward and filled my own cup.
The older man watched me and commented dryly, “You’re mighty careful, my friend.”
“I am,” I agreed.
He took a swig of coffee and asked, “You from these parts?”
“No,” I answered. “I’m from Texas. Midway, Texas, to be exact.”
“I passed through there once. That’s good cow country,” he remarked, and asked, “You a cowman?”
“No, I’m a lawman.”
My comment startled them, and the older man spilled some of his coffee down the front of his shirt.
“Lawman!” He exclaimed, looking at me strangely. “What’s your name?”
“Cooper Landon.”
He grinned. Then he chuckled, and that made me even more nervous.
“I’ve heard of you. You, and that brother of yours. He’s supposed to be the really salty one.”
“That’s what they say,” I said.
“Is he around these parts too?”
“Pretty close.”
He continued to chuckle. As for me, I kept a good hold on my rifle.
“You being a lawman, I’m sure you’ve heard of me,” he said. “My name’s Wade. Wade Davis.”
It was my turn to spill the coffee.
I coughed and spewed coffee from my mouth and nose, and I also dropped my cup.
Chapter six
“So you’ve heard of me, eh?” Wade smiled as he watched my coughing fit.
I knew the name, all right. Wade Davis was a Comanchero, a renowned gunfighter and killer. He was known for trading with the Comanches in Texas, and it was also rumored that he was trading with the Apaches.
It took a few seconds to recover, and then I smiled and tried to look cordial.
“Yes, I’ve heard of you,” I said.
“Imagine that!” Wade smiled wickedly. “A well-known outlaw and a well-known lawman having a chance meeting out in the middle of nowhere!”
“Yes, imagine,” I said without emotion.
“Well now, what are we going to do about that?”
I purposely didn’t hear him as I changed the subject.
“So who’s this?” I jabbed a thumb in the direction of the younger man.
“This is Floyd. He’s the youngest of my two boys,” Wade announced proudly.
“He doesn’t talk much.”
“Well, talking ain’t his specialty,” Wade grinned wolfishly.
“I can guess what is,” I glanced at his Colt.
Wade laughed, but Floyd didn’t say anything. He just stared at me through cold, flint-like eyes. It was a chilling look, and I knew then that I was in trouble.
It fell silent again. Floyd and I stared at each other while Wade looked around at my camp again.
“I can’t help but keep noticing that pack of pelts you’ve got,” Wade commented.
“I noticed that.”
“Sure is a mighty heavy looking pack. Wouldn’t you say so, Floyd?”
Floyd made the longest conversation I had heard out of him so far.
“Yep,” he said solemnly.
“How would you like to make a trade?” Wade asked hopefully.
“Trade?” I asked uncertain like. “What sorta trade?”
“You give us the pelts,” Wade grinned, “and we won’t kill you.”
His comment startled me, and I frowned as I studied them.
They both seemed mighty confident, and that confused me because I was the one with a rifle in my hands.
Unless, I suddenly thought, they know something I don’t.
It was then that I recalled what Wade had said earlier, about Floyd being one of two sons he had.
Where was the other son?
“So, what do you think?” Wade asked.
“Don’t think I’d like that,” I said slowly.
“On second thought; we could just kill you and take the pelts anyway,” Wade said, and suddenly his voice was hard and stern.
“You could try,” I said, and sweat trickled down my face.
Wade didn’t reply. Instead, he just stared at me.
Suddenly, I heard a faint snapping sound from behind. My eyes grew wide, and Wade smiled smugly.
My mouth was bone dry, and my heart beat wildly as I tried to think.
And then, before I could say anything, Wade yelled, “Kill him, Choc!”
Chapter seven
I frantically flung myself sideways.
I wasn’t fast enough, ’cause right as I moved there was an explosion behind me, and I felt a blast as hard as if Jug-head himself had kicked me.
The impact of the bullet twirled me viciously, and as I fell I lost my grip on my rifle. I hit the ground hard, face first.
My head was spinning, but oddly enough I felt no pain. In fact, I didn’t feel much of anything at all. My body must have been stunned, because all I could do was just lie there. My arms, legs, hands; they wer
e all useless.
My ears worked though, because I could hear Wade laughing wolfishly.
“Good shot, Choc!” He exclaimed. “He never knew what hit him!”
“That’s too bad,” a voice chuckled as he walked up. “When a feller kills a man like Cooper Landon, he wants him to know who killed him.”
“He knew, my boy, he knew,” Wade said. “I saw it in his eyes.”
My nose still worked too, ’cause suddenly I could smell an unhealthy stench hovering above me.
“He’s still breathing, Pa!” Floyd announced.
“What!” Wade exclaimed. “Let me see.”
I heard the sound of footsteps, and I felt the toe of a boot prod me in the ribs.
“Your aim must be getting bad, Choc! You didn’t kill him!” Wade scoffed.
“Want me to shoot him again, Pa?”
“Naw, he’s finished. Let him die slow.”
Then, without warning, Wade kicked me a powerful blow to my midsection. It hurt something awful, and I felt a crack somewhere inside me.
I tried to groan, but couldn’t. So, I somehow managed to curl up into a feeble, wretched little ball.
“See? He’s done for,” Wade chuckled.
They walked over to the fire and left me in my misery. I heard them helping themselves to more of my coffee, and after that I heard Wade talking.
“Choc, I want you to ride on out and meet the rest of the boys. Tell Jeremiah we ran into some unexpected luck, and that we’ll be a day late getting to the cabin.”
“Sure thing, Pa,” Choc answered. “Let me drink some coffee, and I’ll be good to go.”
“That’s fine,” Wade said. It was silent, and he added, “You ride careful now, you hear? Just ’cause them Injuns are expecting us don’t mean they won’t kill a feller that’s traveling alone.”
“I’ll be careful, Pa.”
They talked on some more, but I don’t remember it, for I passed out then.
Exactly how long I was out I don’t know. But then a vile, reeking stink brought me to my senses somewhat, and I knew that Floyd was giving me a going over again.
“He still ain’t dead, Pa. You sure you want to leave him like this?”
“He’s good as dead, son,” Wade reassured him. “But say, that’s a good looking pair of boots he has on! They might fit. Pull them off’n him, will you?”
“Sure thing, Pa.”
Floyd grabbed my boots, and there was nothing gentle in the way he went about it. Every muscle in me cried out in pain as he jerked roughly, but there was nothing I could do.
As he walked away with my boots I managed to open my eyes.
Choc had already left, and they had also packed up my camp.
Wade and Floyd stepped up on their horses, and Wade held the lead rope to Jug-head while Floyd led the horses.
Now, I had taken good care of my dun horse for a long time, and I expected him to have mixed feelings about leaving his good ol’ master like this.
But I was wrong. He didn’t even nicker as he trailed along behind Floyd.
Traitor, I thought bitterly.
I wanted desperately to stop them, but my body still wouldn’t cooperate.
I did manage to claw feebly at the dirt in front of me, and somehow I managed to raise myself up a little.
My head started spinning, and I fell back down in anguish. Darkness surrounded me, and I passed out again.
Chapter eight
An alarmed, surprised cry woke me. I opened my eyes to find Josie hovering over me.
“Josie,” I mumbled, relieved. “You’re all right.”
“What happened?” Josie demanded, and her eyes were filled with worry.
Talking slow, I explained. Josie listened, and she was quiet as she assessed the situation.
Suddenly, I noticed that she had two dead rabbits.
“How did you catch those?” I asked weakly.
“Indian way.”
I was curious, but I didn’t have the strength to ask more.
I was hurting and bleeding, and I was sure in need of some sympathy and compassion. But Josie was accustomed to the Apache way, and sympathy and compassion were the last things on her mind.
She took control of the situation. She helped me lean back against a log, and she peeled my shirt back and examined my wound.
Once again, I had been hit in the hip. In fact, it was almost the exact spot where I’d been shot before.
From what Josie could tell, the bullet had made a deep gash and had gone clean through.
I could have stitched the wound if I had my needle and thread that were in my saddlebags. As it was now, all I had to do was move and blood oozed out.
“Lucky,” Josie nodded at the wound.
“If this is lucky,” I grimaced, “I’d sure hate to see what unlucky is.”
“I fix,” Josie said as she stood.
“How?”
“Indian way.”
“Indian way?” I asked suspiciously.
Josie nodded and got busy. She rebuilt the fire, and she skinned the rabbits and got them cooking.
“I’m glad you have that knife,” I commented. “That’s the only weapon we have.”
Josie nodded as she jumped to her feet and took off. She reappeared a few minutes later, carrying with her a long stick. She whittled some on one end, and she stuck the whittled end deep into the coals.
“What’s the stick for?” I asked.
“I fix.”
“Well, that explains it,” I frowned.
It fell silent. After a while Josie pulled the stick out and examined it, and she stuck it back in the coals.
“Been thinking,” I said. “We’re in trouble. Big trouble.”
Josie nodded as she stood. She pulled the stick out again, and the end was bright red and glowing.
“We have no horses,” I continued. “And, as you know, the trading post is no more.”
Josie knelt beside me and blew softly on the stick. It stirred the coals burning in the end, and it glowed even brighter.
“What are we planning on doing with that stick?” I demanded to know.
“I fix,” Josie said again. “The Indian way.”
“Perhaps we should discuss this.”
“No time. I fix.”
Before I could reply, she firmly placed the burning stick on my wound.
Any thoughts of showing bravery left after the first second. I screamed in anguish and passed out again.
Chapter nine
I wasn’t unconscious long, because it was still daylight when I woke up.
My hip hurt something awful.
I looked down and discovered that Josie had packed my wound with mud from the creek. It did cool the burning sensation a bit, and I also noticed that I wasn’t bleeding anymore.
Josie was by the fire, and she looked up and spotted me. She had finished cooking the rabbits, and she brought me some meat.
I suddenly realized how hungry I was, and I tore into the meat with a vengeance.
“I fix,” Josie beckoned at my hip. “No bleed now. Feel better?”
“Wonderful.”
I coughed as I ate, and I felt a piercing pain in my ribs. I looked, and already there was a dark bruise forming from the kick. I pressed gingerly, and a sharp pain passed throughout my body. But, I could tell that my ribs weren’t broken, just bruised. And, bruised ribs weren’t going to stop me.
Suddenly, the feeling came flooding all over me. And, just like that I was mad and hostile.
This feeling runs in the Landon family. Yancy has felt it, as has Rondo and several others.
It’s a feeling that’s hard to explain. The best way is to say that it’s a feeling of confidence, calmness, loneliness, sharp keenness, and pure meanness all rolled up into one. It also dulls the senses, and many a time I had been hurt and didn’t even know it until afterwards.
Nobody has ever been able to explain this feeling; it just shows up in times of trouble. And, whenever any Landon got th
is feeling, whoever stirred it up was in trouble.
“Wade and his boys bushwhacked me and left me for dead,” I declared, and already I could feel the combative juices start to boil inside me. “And the worst of it is that we lost our pelts!”
Josie looked at me strangely, and I shrugged sheepishly.
“Well, mebbe not the worst, but it’s right up there with the rest of our sufferings,” I said.
“We catch more,” Josie suggested. “Later.”
“No,” I replied stubbornly. “Those pelts mean a lot to us. I’m getting them back.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted sourly.
“We go down the mountain?” Josie asked hopefully.
I snorted in disgust.
“If you think I’m going to walk down this mountain without those pelts, you are mistaken.”
“What will we do?”
“It ain’t even dark yet,” I figured. “With them leading Jug-head, they can’t travel too fast. If we leave now and walk all night, we might catch ’em before morning.”
Josie looked at me skeptically.
“Then what?”
“We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”
“Can you walk?” She asked.
I reached for her hand.
“Let’s find out.”
Josie pulled me to my feet. The movement hurt, and my head swirled.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Josie wasn’t convinced, but she let go of my hand anyhow. I swayed a bit, but managed to stay on my feet.
I suddenly realized just how much of a thirst I had. So, moving at a snail’s pace, I walked over, knelt down, and drank deeply from the creek. Then, I stood slowly on my own power.
Josie frowned as she watched me.
“I’m fine,” I said again.
Only I wasn’t. Already, my bare feet were telling me that this here traveling situation was no good.
Using Josie’s knife, I cut long strips from my shirt. Next, I pulled up some grass, and using the grass as a cushion I wrapped my feet as best as I could with the strips. It wasn’t much, but it was the best I could come up with.