Flame Across the Land

by Colin Bainbridge

  ‘No we won’t. There’ll never be anywhere else like the Lazy Ladder. I don’t want you to sell it, and least of all to Nash Brandon. I don’t like him. I told you what that man Seaton had to say when he visited the ranch. He said something about an attack on a friend of his and I’d be willing to bet that Brandon was behind it. He’s probably responsible for stealing your stock.’

  ‘Now that’s not fair. I never said anything about stealin’. I said I’d been losin’ some stock. When we carry out the roundup they’ll probably turn up.’

  ‘I still don’t like Brandon. I’d be willing to bet he’s not offering you a fair price either.’

  ‘There, that’s enough,’ her father replied. He thought for a moment. ‘I don’t want to announce any of this without giving the men time to take it in and make arrangements about what they’re gonna do. That wouldn’t be fair.’ He bit his lip, his troubled brow puckered in thought.

  ‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll give it a few more days, but I don’t see any way out.’

  She leaned over to him and flung her arms about his neck. ‘Oh, thank you. I’m sure something will turn up. I won’t let it happen. I’ll think of a way. Just have faith.’

  He kissed her on the brow and got to his feet. ‘I’d better get on,’ he said.

  ‘Will you be in your study?’

  ‘For a while. I’ve got some paperwork to do.’

  ‘I’ll bring you some coffee,’ she said.

  He went through the ranch-house door and she continued to sit forward on her chair, looking out across the yard and away into the distance. The familiar scene seemed to have acquired a new poignancy and a new meaning. It wasn’t possible that she should lose it and the Lazy Ladder become incorporated into some bigger spread, but what was to be done about it she couldn’t tell.

  Seaton had suggested the line cabin as a place of refuge, but he knew it could only be temporary and he needed to decide on a proper plan of action. When morning came he still hadn’t decided on what it should be. Normally, he would have approached the marshal with his concerns, but Braithwaite was one of Brandon’s creatures and there was nothing to be looked for in that direction. As Utah and Brownlow tended to the horses, he stood in the doorway, racking his brains for an answer, when he spotted something in the distance; a smudge or stain against the sky.

  ‘Hey!’ he called. ‘Come and take a look.’ Utah and Brownlow came round a corner of the cabin.

  ‘What is it?’ Brownlow asked.

  ‘Could be dust,’ Utah replied. ‘Or maybe it’s Braithwaite with a posse!’

  They stood observing it closely till Seaton suddenly exclaimed, ‘That ain’t dust. That’s fire!’

  There was a moment’s hesitation and then with one accord they grabbed their saddles and some sheets and made their way to the horses. As they rode out, the smear of smoke had already grown to a cloud, which quickly gathered in density and expanded as they got nearer. Some cattle came tearing towards them, veering off while they were still some distance away, and then Seaton noticed another line of smoke coming from a different direction. At first he thought the fire had jumped and spread, but when he detected horsemen he guessed that they had deliberately started a backfire and were driving it towards the flames ahead of them. Although the main fire was still some distance away, they could hear the crackling and roaring of the flames as they got closer and the heat made the air dance in front of them. There were two lines of smoke now advancing across the grass and gradually coming together, and through the smoke the red glow of the blaze flickered and flared, sending sparks flying high into the air.

  The men fighting the fire were too involved to take notice of the new arrivals as they came alongside and made towards a chuck-wagon that was coming up behind carrying water barrels. Taking the sheets they had brought, they soaked them with water and, abandoning their horses, advanced to join in the battle. Where enough space had been burned to prevent the grass on the leeward side of the backfire from igniting, they moved on down the sides to stop the fire from breaking over at other places. They worked tirelessly, but it was clear that more men were needed and the supply of water was inadequate. Their sheets were soon burned and they replaced them with gunny sacks, riding back to the wagon regularly to dip them into one of the barrels. Around them the thud thud of the wet sacks could be heard above the crackling of the flames, leaving behind black ashes and little streamers of smoke where they’d struck. As they beat out fresh blazes with the water-soaked sacks, they left trails of smouldering black which as often as not were fanned into new life by the breeze and sparks falling on the dry grass. All the while the backfire was forced to burn slowly into the breeze, but it was very questionable as to whether, when it met the oncoming fire, they would then burn themselves out.

  The lines of fire drew closer together, and as the men toiled thick billows of pungent smoke blew into their faces. Flakes of blackened grass and ashes settled on them and the air was thick with cinders. Sparks danced among the smoke. The heat of the fires beat upon them, scorching their faces and making their eyes sting and smart. The hot ground was baking the horses’ hoofs as showers of soot fell over them and the smell of burning grass and sagebrush, weeds and cow chips, filled the air. The men’s faces were soon black and blistered. Seaton found it hard to keep track of what was happening to Utah and Brownlow as they continued to labour.

  Someone had ordered the killing of a couple of steers. They had been sliced in half, their heads cut off and their sides skinned from belly to back, and then they were pulled along behind the chuck-wagon. The idea was to drag the carcases by their front and hind legs over the edges of the blaze to help extinguish the flames, but looking ahead at the conflagration it seemed a hopeless response. Still they struggled on but despite all their efforts, other fires kept breaking out behind them and there was a growing danger that they might be encircled. The dense smoke made it hard to see what was happening but as Seaton came through a dense patch he saw a man a little way in the rear of the drags, lying prone on the smouldering ground and almost surrounded by the dancing flames of one of the secondary fires.

  Weighing up the situation in an instant, he ran towards the conflagration. Holding the wet sack in front of him for protection, he aimed his run at a spot where the flames were less fierce. He crouched low in an effort to protect his face and with a final leap he was through. The man lay face down and as tongues of flame reached towards him, Seaton kneeled down and turned him over. The man’s face was scorched and he was barely breathing but he was still alive. Quickly, Seaton wrapped him in the wet blanket with which a few moments before he had been trying to douse the flames and then lifted him as carefully as he could. The man was heavy and the effort involved almost exhausted him. His lungs felt as though they were on fire from the smoke and cinders he couldn’t help breathing in. Desperately, he looked about for a way of escape and then, gathering all his remaining strength, he put the man over his shoulder and staggered forward. He was no longer in full control of himself, but acting by instinct as he shouldered his way through the flames to emerge at the other side blind and disoriented. He made a few more steps before collapsing to the ground with his burden. He got to his knees, his head down, gasping for air, and was barely aware when a couple of men came to his assistance. He looked up into their faces and saw their mouths move and tried to tell them what had happened before collapsing in a welter of pain and exhaustion.

  He was awakened by a jolting motion to find himself lying on the bed of the chuck-wagon and looking down at him were the faces of Utah and Brownlow. He attempted to move but Utah restrained him with a gentle touch.

  ‘Take it easy,’ he said.

  ‘I feel like hell,’ he managed to reply.

  ‘That ain’t no surprise,’ Utah said. ‘You were damn lucky to come out of the fire at all, never mind carryin’ somebody else with you.’

  ‘You know you’re somethin’ of a hero?’ Brownlow said. ‘Turns out that man you risked your lif
e to rescue is Mitch Montgomery, the owner of the Lazy Ladder.’

  ‘Is he OK?’ Seaton asked.

  ‘He ain’t too grand, but he’ll survive.’

  Seaton managed a feeble grin as a third face came into view behind those of Utah and Brownlow.

  ‘Seaton,’ Utah said, ‘this here is Lem Hillier. He’s foreman at the Lazy Ladder.’

  Seaton looked at him but it was difficult to make out much of his features beneath their smearing of soot and ash.

  ‘How are you feelin’?’ he asked.

  ‘Pretty bad, but I’ll be OK.’ He made another effort to sit up and despite Utah’s remonstrances, succeeded in hoisting himself upright. Hillier was riding his horse close to the chuck-wagon, in which another figure was lying whom he recognized as the man he had rescued.

  ‘We sure owe you,’ Hillier said. ‘Without you, Mr Montgomery wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Think nothin’ of it.’

  ‘We’re gonna let the fire burn itself out now. I don’t think we can do a lot more and I don’t want to take the risk of somebody else bein’ hurt.’

  Seaton raised his head to look over the side of the wagon and directed his gaze to the line of smoke which still hung in the distance.

  ‘You figure we’ve done enough?’ he said.

  ‘I reckon so.’ Hillier looked at Utah and Brownlow. ‘Thanks to all of you,’ he said. ‘We were short-handed and you sure helped to pull us through.’ He paused in thought for a moment. ‘The main danger would be the threat to the ranch-house, but I think we’ve avoided any chance of it reachin’ that far.’

  His words suddenly made Seaton think of Maisie Montgomery and immediately evoked a worried response. What if the foreman was wrong? What if she had somehow been caught up in the blaze? He was relieved when Hillier continued, ‘We’re headed back there right now. We’ve already sent for the doc so he can check you out properly later. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.’

  Seaton exchanged glances with Utah and Brownlow. Utah’s face was blank but Brownlow nodded as if in approval. Seaton couldn’t think of a better option. Their tenure of the line cabin had been a temporary expedient and it was unlikely they would be able to deal with Brandon on their own. They needed support if their cause was to be successful, and Mitch Montgomery seemed the obvious choice, especially after what had just happened. At some point they would have had to approach the Lazy Ladder, and events had turned out propitiously. From one point of view the circumstances were perhaps not ideal, but from another they had worked in their favour.

  ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘That’s real friendly of you. We appreciate it.’

  ‘Good,’ Hillier said. ‘Just try and relax. I’ll see you later after we get back to the ranch.’ He was about to turn his horse and ride off when Seaton asked, ‘What do you think started the fire?’ He was expecting a quick reply, but instead Hiller took a few moments to consider.

  ‘That’s a good question,’ he said, ‘but range fires are not unusual. There are plenty of things it might have been.’

  ‘You don’t sound too sure.’

  ‘We can maybe talk about that later but right now you ought to be restin’.’

  He wheeled away and for the following moments Seaton and his two companions watched the fire. It had certainly diminished. The flames were beginning to die away and be replaced by a wall of billowing black smoke. It seemed that Hillier knew his business. At one stage it had looked like a losing fight, but they had succeeded in bringing the conflagration under some kind of control.

  ‘Hillier didn’t sound too sure about what caused the fire,’ Utah commented.

  ‘You noticed that too?’ Seaton replied.

  ‘I figure he’s as suspicious as you are,’ Utah replied. ‘I wonder if it’s Brandon and the Mill Iron he’s got in mind too?’

  Seaton lay back again. After Hillier had gone, he began to question himself as to why the foreman hadn’t asked any questions about what they were doing on Lazy Ladder range in the first place. He wondered for a moment what the response would have been if they had been found on Mill Iron property, and he thought he knew the answer.

  Chapter Six

  A couple of days had gone by and Seaton had seen nothing of either Mitch or Maisie Montgomery. It was easy enough to understand why Mitch wasn’t around but Seaton was somewhat disappointed not to have seen Maisie. He consoled himself with reflecting that her time would be fully occupied looking after her father. He himself had been given a room upstairs in the ranch-house, whereas Utah and Brownlow had to make do with the bunkhouse. However, they were able to come and go quite freely and they spent a considerable amount of time in Seaton’s company. After all the excitement and exertions of the previous few days, all three of them were glad of a chance to take time to rest and recuperate. However, Seaton didn’t like the feeling of being treated like an invalid and despite some discomfort, made a point of being up and about as soon as possible. So when Hillier paid Seaton a visit the day after the fire to report that it had burned itself out, he took advantage of the opportunity to suggest they take a ride out and look at the damage.

  ‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’ Hillier asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Seaton answered. ‘The doc’s given me a clean bill of health.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s quite what he said,’ Brownlow remarked.

  The foreman looked at him dubiously. ‘That’s not what he said to Mr Montgomery either,’ he said.

  ‘That’s Montgomery, this is me,’ Seaton replied. ‘He had a worse time of it than me. Stop fussin’. A bit of fresh air will do me good.’

  They made their way to the corral where Seaton was pleased to see the chestnut looking in good shape.

  ‘Hello, old girl,’ he said, stroking her mane and muzzle. ‘It takes more than a bit of smoke and fire to put us out of action.’ They saddled up and left, Utah and Brownlow riding two cow horses from the remuda. As they rode, they began to notice the acrid smell of burned grass and as they got near the site of the fire they saw the whole range black and still smouldering in places in blue wisps of smoke. The smell had now become a stench and was strong in their nostrils.

  ‘That’s a lot of lost forage,’ Seaton remarked.

  ‘Yeah, and I don’t think I’m sayin’ anythin’ out of line when I tell you the Lazy Ladder is already in difficulties.’

  ‘When I asked you about what you thought started the blaze, you didn’t seem too sure.’

  Hillier gave the three of them a searching look. ‘And you didn’t say what you were doin’ on Lazy Ladder property. Don’t get me wrong. We’re sure grateful for everythin’ you did, but if things had been different, I might have had my suspicions.’

  Seaton turned to Utah. ‘Tell him what you saw,’ he said.

  ‘About the rustlers?’

  Seaton nodded and in clipped sentences Utah described what had happened the night he sought shelter in the line cabin. When he had finished Hillier nodded and mumbled something under his breath, which Seaton couldn’t make out.

  ‘That ties in,’ he said out loud. ‘We’ve been losin’ cattle for some time. I even set up some patrols but we haven’t managed to catch anybody.’ He paused.

  ‘Go on,’ Seaton prompted.

  ‘I guess I don’t have to spell it out to you. I figure you’ve worked it out for yourself. The way I see it, that fire was started deliberately, and by the same varmints who’ve been runnin’ off our stock.’

  ‘Yeah. That’s the way we see it too. So who’s behind it? I figure you’ve got a view on that too.’

  Hillier gave a brief grin. ‘Do you?’ he said.

  ‘Sure. And I got reasons.’

  Hillier looked at him searchingly and Seaton took up the story where Utah had left off, starting with the attack on the oldster and his sheep and finishing with the rescue of Brownlow from Braithwaite’s jailhouse and their subsequent night spent at the line cabin. When he had finished there was a knowing look on all their faces.

>   ‘Nash Brandon and the Mill Iron,’ Hillier stated, saying it for them all. ‘He’s been tryin’ to get his hands on the Lazy Ladder for a long while. I figured he was crooked, but it’s worse than I allowed.’

  ‘The question is, what do we do about it?’ Utah said. Hillier regarded the oldster before replying.

  ‘Brandon can’t be allowed to get away with this,’ he muttered. ‘Leave it to me to tell Mr Montgomery, when he’s recovered, what you just told me. I don’t think he has any illusions about Brandon, but this puts everythin’ in a new light. He’s a quiet man, but I reckon we’ll see a different side of him when he knows what’s been goin’ on.’

  Marshal Braithwaite was in a state of high dudgeon when he was eventually set free from his own jail. A small group of people had gathered in his office, amongst whom he recognized Held and Thurston.

  ‘What the hell are you all doin’ here?’ he yelled. ‘Get out! Now!’

  One or two people had shown concern, but at his words they didn’t wait to offer their commiserations. When they had made their way outside again, Braithwaite accosted the two Mill Iron men.

  ‘I thought I told you two to keep a close lookout for Seaton,’ he fumed.

  Held could see that he felt humiliated and was looking for someone to blame and decided the best response would be to try and justify themselves.

  ‘We saw him comin’ by and opened fire but he was travellin’ too fast. It happened real quick, but at least we recognized him. Who knows; we might even have wounded him.’

  ‘Did he slow up? Did he look like he was hit?’

  Held slowly shook his head. ‘Nope, but that don’t say he wasn’t hurt.’

  ‘I’ve heard about you two from Brandon,’ the marshal said. ‘If he was goin’ to saddle me with somebody, I don’t know why it had to be you.’

  He sank into a chair, opened a drawer and produced a half-empty bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. He poured himself a stiff drink but didn’t offer any to the other two. He gulped down a couple of mouthfuls and when he had done so he seemed slightly mollified.