Curse Of The Spanish Gold (The Mountain Men Book 2)

by Terry Grosz

  As he drew down on what he had thought was a black bear, Jacob was surprised to see over his rifle barrel the face of a half- naked black man of immense height and proportions! Grabbing Martin as he ran by Jacob to get a shot, he held down the barrel of his brother’s rifle so Martin wouldn’t also mistake the man for a bear. Standing there in amazement, the brothers gawked at the amazing sight.

  Finally Jacob yelled, “Hey, that there moose hindquarter belongs to us!”

  Surprised by the appearance of the two men, the man tiredly held up his hands in resignation and stood still with a baleful look on his face. As they got their first real look at him, the brothers continued to stare in astonishment. The man stood at least six and a half feet high and in better days had probably weighed at least three hundred pounds. His arms and legs spoke of nothing but power.

  Keeping his Hawken at the ready, Jacob said, “Come here, you. We won’t hurt you.”

  For a moment the man didn’t move or take his eyes off the armed brothers. Then he frantically looked around for an avenue of escape. Seeing none, he finally came out from behind the moose quarter and slowly walked over to them.

  Damn, thought Jacob as the black man loomed over him, he is even bigger than he first appeared to be! “Who the hell are you, and where did you come from?” he asked.

  “My name is Cain, and I’m a runaway slave. I escaped ten days ago from my master, Ben Lord, at Fort Vasquez and have been on the run in these mountains ever since.”

  Jacob and Martin just looked at each other in amazement. First, they had only ever seen three black men in their lives before, all at Fort Bridger; all three had been servants traveling west with families on the wagon trains. Second, the man spoke better English than the two of them. Third, he was an immense human being but appeared to be as docile as a baby bird.

  Jacob shocked his brother with his next words. “If you can wait a spell, my brother and me will fix you some vittles and hot coffee. That is, if you would like that instead of that there raw moose hindquarter, which we mean to sell if you don’t eat it to the bone.”

  “I would be obliged,” said Cain, “as I haven’t eaten since I escaped until this morning.”

  The men stood for a moment looking at each other until Jacob smiled and said, “Come on, Martin, let’s see if we can fix this man some eats before he commences to eating our moose once again.”

  Cain sat outside the cabin on a log because there wasn’t enough room for him inside while the brothers turned to making breakfast. Just in case Cain suddenly became a dangerous wild man, the brothers carried their pistols at the ready in their sashes.

  Breakfast consisted of two Dutch ovens full of biscuits, a frying pan full of partially cooked bacon (Jacob figured it best to leave a lot of fat on the meat so the black man could replenish his own fat reserves), eight moose steaks in two other frying pans, and two pots of scalding black coffee before Cain appeared to be filling up. Not much was said as the three men ate, but they spent a lot of time looking at each other. The brothers felt awe and respect for the starving gentle giant trying to square up his stomach with the little guts. Cain stared at the two mountain men as if this moment might disappear into thin mountain air as a figment of his starving imagination, and the grub along with it.

  Finishing, Cain said, “I can’t pay you for your hospitality, but I can work off the grub doing whatever you need around the cabin. Then I have to skedaddle before my master runs me to ground and beats the living tar out of me once again for escaping.”

  Jacob and Martin just sat there. They had been raised in the rough-and-tumble wilderness and were tough, hard-hewn men. Yet here was a man who had led a life of slavery and abuse and appeared as gentle as all get-out. Already, in the short time they had been together, Cain had begun to win their hearts.

  “Cain,” said Jacob, “is your owner really out there somewhere looking for you?”

  Cain said immediately, “Yes, he is, and if he catches me he will beat me within an inch of my life. I just had enough of the beatings, starving, and poor treatment while he always lived high on the hog, so I up and ran away. I am still his property, and he won’t give up until I’m back in his clutches because he paid $1,000 way back in Virginia for me. I am dead or of no use to anyone anymore, as far as I am concerned.” Cain dejectedly looked down at his ragged pants and bare, bleeding feet.

  “No man has a right to own another!” said Martin through clenched teeth.

  “That’s right!” Jacob agreed strongly, upset over what he was hearing.

  “As long as you’re with us, no one will make a slave out of you ever again,” added Martin, very determined and not really realizing the ramifications of his words.

  “The two of you don’t fully understand. I am Ben Lord’s property under law. He paid for me fair and square, and now he can do with me whatever he wants under the law,” Cain said quietly and without any emotion.

  “Where does this Lord fellow live again?” asked Jacob.

  “He lives in a back room in Jake’s Emporium at Fort Vasquez. He is a wealthy land speculator and buys and sells town lots around Fort Vasquez and on a site along Cherry Creek,” answered Cain.

  “Cain, we have to run our meat to Fort Vasquez to sell before it spoils. That will take us a long day, and then we will be back. Why don’t you stay here at our cabin and wait until the two of us can figure a way out of this mess for you?” asked Jacob.

  “I would like that, but I had better keep on running. If I don’t, I might get you both in trouble with the law and Mr. Lord as well. Besides, I’m a slave, and that’s my lot in life—to serve him or others like him,” Cain said resignedly.

  Those words inflamed Jacob and Martin. Having been raised in the west as free men, not obliged to anyone except themselves, they didn’t think any human being should believe it was his lot in life to be a slave.

  “You will wait here for us, and upon our return we’ll figure a way out of this mess,” Martin said sternly as Jacob nodded in agreement.

  Cain helped the brothers load the meat onto the pack animals, and they asked him to feed and water the remaining livestock while awaiting their return. Jacob went to their stash of coins from the sale of the Lakota horses and mules at Fort Bridger and took out the $950 they owed the liveryman; then the brothers left for the fort with their pack strings heavily loaded with fresh meat. Behind them stood a forlorn-looking figure, hoping against hope that Martin and Jacob’s words would somehow ring true.

  Arriving in Fort Vasquez, the brothers unloaded the meat at the butcher shop. Harold was especially happy to get the moose meat because of a high local demand for the excellent-tasting venison. When they picking up supplies at Jake’s Emporium, Jacob and Martin overheard talk about an escaped slave and learned that a party of men was out hunting him. Pretending to be uninterested in the news about the manhunt, they went about their business. After getting their supplies loaded, they hotfooted it down to the livery stable and paid off the liveryman. With no further delay, they headed back up Clear Creek Canyon toward their cabin.

  Arriving home about one the following morning, they were surprised to see dim candlelight shining from a window in their cabin. There was a fire blazing in the fire pit in the front yard and a large stand of horses not belonging to them tethered nearby. Tying up their pack string out of sight of the tethered horses so they wouldn’t alert those inside, Jacob and Martin began their stalk to get closer. Quietly walking up to the front door, the brothers hesitated and then jerked it violently open. Storming inside, they found the cabin crowded with eight men, all trying to sleep. Their surprise was complete, and Jacob and Martin covered them with their rifles as they leaped to their feet. Sitting in one corner of the crowded cabin was Cain. He was tied up and had been badly beaten about the face, back, and shoulders.

  “Hold your fire! I am Ben Lord, and I can explain,” said a short, fat, balding man.

  “Best get to explaining before I start shooting,” Jacob uttered through cle
nched teeth, “since this here is our cabin, and you varmints don’t belong!”

  “We have been trailing this here slave who belongs to me for the last several days. His trail led to this here cabin, and when we opened the door, we found him hiding inside. I am doing nothing but claiming my property, and once we got some sleep, we was going to take him back to Fort Vasquez,” said Ben Lord. He seemed perplexed by the turn of events as he stared at the business end of Jacob’s and Martin’s unwavering rifles.

  Still holding Lord in his sights, Jacob said, “How much you want for the slave?”

  “I don’t want to sell him,” said Lord with a less-than-calm, surprised voice.

  “How much did you pay for him?” Jacob demanded.

  “He cost me $1,000 in hard coin way back in Virginia a couple years back,” responded Lord, still confused by the line of questioning.

  “I will give you $1,200 for the man in hard coin and gold if you will sell him to me,” Jacob responded, still very angry.

  Martin continued to back his brother’s play, but the offer to buy Cain caught him as much off guard as Ben Lord. Neither of us believes in slavery, so why buy a slave now? he wondered, looking hard at Jacob as if that would bring an answer.

  “I think $1,200 would be a fair price. But the only way I will take it is in silver or gold,” wheezed Lord, still nervous at the rifle barrels pointing at his guts and very surprised by the offer.

  Carefully walking over to Cain, Jacob cut him loose. Walking back to the doorway of the cabin, Jacob handed Cain his rifle and said, “Watch them. If they move, send them over the Great Divide.”

  Cain took Jacob’s rifle, and the look in his eyes showed that Jacob’s words would be well heeded if he had his druthers.

  Turning to Martin, Jacob said, “I will be back shortly,” and he went out the door into the early-morning darkness.

  Twenty minutes later Jacob returned with a saddlebag in hand. Walking over to the table, he dumped the last of their gold and silver coins out on the table. He counted them out as everyone under the muzzles of the rifles looked on in amazement at the hoard of wealth of a kind rarely seen on the frontier.

  “There be $800 here,” Jacob said. Then, with a quick movement, he threw two of their Spanish gold ingots onto the table, saying, “That will square the deal, agreed?”

  Lord reached over with fingers still greasy from supper and fingered the golden ingots.

  “Where’d you boys get these?” he asked with obvious greed in his voice.

  “Do we have a deal or not?” asked Jacob, ignoring Lord’s question.

  “Sure do,” said Lord as he scooped the coins and gold ingots into his hat, “but you never answered my question on where those Spanish ingots came from.”

  “Traded some horses for them off a Ute Indian some years back,” lied Jacob, hoping to throw Lord off the golden and seemingly still cursed trail.

  The look on Lord’s and the others’ faces showed disbelief, but under the circumstances, they held their tongues.

  Martin roared to life, saying, “Now you all get the hell out of our cabin. You are stinking it up!”

  The eight men started to grab their sleeping rolls and rifles but were cut short by a gruff command from Jacob. “Leave them rifles, pistols, and knives here, boys,” he said with finality in the tone of his voice.

  The men hesitated, and Martin said, “Obey my brother or you will all die here in this cabin, and then we will burn it to the ground to get rid of your stinking carcasses. Then no one will ever be the wiser about what happened to you miserable wretches.”

  The tone of his voice told the men that to disobey would mean death. Their weapons were slowly lowered back to the floor of the cabin or stacked against its walls.

  “You can pick up your rifles, pistols, and knives here at the cabin in two days. They will be left inside for safekeeping, and you can claim them then,” said Jacob.

  It would soon be first light, and the men left only to bed down by the corral for the remainder of the darkness. Jacob, Martin, and Cain did not let their guards down. At daylight they stood in the front yard and watched the eight manhunters thread their way back down Clear Creek Canyon until they were out of sight as they headed back to the fort. Little did Lord and his party realize that the Curse of the Spanish Gold now partially rested in their saddlebags and would be exacted to the fullest measure on a soon-to-come date...

  “That about cuts it,” said Jacob. “We need to move on now because I feel they will be back in force and try to have their way with us for the rest of the Spanish gold if we are not careful.”

  Martin nodded in solemn agreement and said, “You are right. If we stay there will be some killing, and that we don’t need. Besides, it seems every time we bring out those Spanish gold ingots, trouble is not far behind us. That would have gone double if we had used some of our nuggets to seal the trade.”

  Cain, quiet until then, said, “Thank you both for my freedom. But I fear if Ben can get me back, you will have spent your money and gold in vain.”

  “That ain’t going to happen,” uttered Jacob, “without a whole lot of killing, and it won’t be us gettin’ killed if that be the case!”

  Before leaving the cabin, Jacob and Martin outfitted Cain as best they could. He now carried his own Hawken, two pistols, and a sharp gutting knife from their stores. Since they did not have any buckskin shirts big enough for him, he had to be satisfied for the moment with a buffalo-robe cape worn loosely over his massive shoulders. He rode Dander, one of the hell-for-stout mules, and helped in leading the two draft horses, who were loaded with very heavy packs containing numerous lumpy elk- skin pouches.

  By noon that fall day, as the three men looked back into Clear Creek Canyon from the top of what is today Berthoud Pass, they saw no sign of pursuit. Jacob had altered the rifles and pistols of the men who had taken Cain before leaving them in the cabin so that if anyone tried to fire them, they would misfire. By the time the alterations could be discovered and rectified, Jacob hoped the three of them would be out of reach in the high country and back with their friends the Northern Arapaho.

  Just smart business altering their rifles if they catch us not looking, he thought with a grin as he kicked his horse in its flanks.

  The three men made a grand picture as they rode down the back side of Berthoud Pass in all its fall glory, wending their way through the heavy stands of lodgepole pine into the lush mountain valleys and into the territory of Bison Path, chief of the Northern Arapaho, with their long pack strings. Jacob recognized a small stream rushing down the canyon and followed it downward, leading their heavily loaded pack strings out of the heavy timber in and around the less dense stands of spruce and aspen until they reached an open, high mountain valley floor. Cutting across the headwaters of the Colorado River, they headed up and over what is today called Willow Creek Pass. Along the way Jacob noticed the vast amount of beaver ponds and dams in the watered areas. We need to trap these waters in the future, he thought with a grin of anticipation over the advent of the fall trapping season, soon to be upon them.

  Unknown to Cain, Jacob was leading the way to a little cabin near a small spring in a grove of trees that the Indians had decorated with sacred items of respect…There they would winter, trap beaver along the Michigan River, and make meat from the many buffalo in the sagebrush flats north of their cabin. The days ahead were looking good...

  As for the vein of pure gold that they left behind, it would be discovered in 1859 and lead to a local gold rush near the present-day town of Black Hawk, Colorado.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fall Arrives With all its Fury Before the Winds of Winter Howl

  Before the men made it to the old cabin, they were intercepted by a small band of Northern Arapaho who had been out hunting. After exchanging greetings, Jacob let the Indians know they were heading for the old cabin for a winter stay. This excited the Indians, but not as much as seeing a black man for the first time in their lives—and a hug
e one at that!

  Leaving the band of Indians and leading their pack strings to the cabin, the men dismounted and removed the loads and saddles from the animals. They hobbled the animals and let them out into the nearby meadow to feed and water while the three men set about enlarging the horse corral and strengthening the support posts in order to hold their increased numbers of livestock. During this process of digging holes and setting additional posts, the brothers were amazed again and again by Cain’s great strength. He easily lifted logs that would have taken both of the brothers to lift. When the corral was finished, they moved all their gear into the cabin, and Jacob set about building another sleeping platform for Cain that was befitting of his height and great size.

  For the next week the men busied themselves hauling in winter firewood, hunting buffalo with the Indians, making clothing for Cain, and drying great amounts of meat for the time when the snow would be too deep to hunt or move about easily. Figuring that Cain was not only built like a horse but ate like one, Jacob saw to it that their jerky and smoked-meat stores were very substantial. The three men also built a large aerial cache house next to their cabin to store their overflow provisions. During this time the brothers let Cain in on their secret relating to the hoard of gold nuggets and Spanish ingots.

  Cain was amazed as he let some of the nuggets slip through his large hands and fingers, then let them drop back into the elkskin sacks.

  “As you can well imagine, we need to hide our fortune,” said Jacob.

  “There’s a small rocky outcropping behind our cabin in which we could store it if you think it would be secure there,” said Martin.

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Jacob.

  “It’s mostly out of sight and out of the weather, so our leather bags won’t rot. Plus, we can bury the whole mess under some loose rocks and dirt out of sight of prying eyes,” continued Martin.

  “Then it’s done,” said Jacob. “Tomorrow we will bury the gold in a dry cache and cover it well enough that it won’t be discovered by anyone nosing around when we aren’t here.”