by J. T. Edson
Dusty wasted no time as soon as he saw every family and all the drivers were on hand. He told of Red’s discovery and of what the Kid made of it. He warned them of the possibility of an Apache attack and went on:
‘There are two things we can do. Wait here and send a rider to Hammerlock to telegraph the army for a cavalry escort. The nearest cavalry’s at Fort Becket, a week’s ride from here. There’ll be delays before they move and even then we may not get the escort. That’s the first choice. The second is we move on, closed up and ready to fight. Which do you want?’
The crowd fell silent, for this was a vital decision for them to make. They remembered all they’d heard of the Apaches, the most savage of the fighting Indian tribes. They weighed this against the delay waiting for possible army help would cost. It was a small but important fact that the cavalry would wear the hated Union blue when they came and no self-respecting Johnny Reb wanted to think he was taking a favor from a Yankee. There was the thought that the delay might cost them their new homes and the money they spent on the deposits.
Jim Lourde stepped forward. ‘If you say we move on then we move, Cap’n Fog. Apaches or no Apaches we’ll follow your orders.’
There was a yell of agreement from the listening men. Captain Fog, the hero of the Confederate Army, the master of light cavalry tactics, the raider whose name stood as high as did John Singleton Mosby or Turner Ashby’s, would be able to match and beat any Apache ever born. The drivers, the hardy bull-whackers, other than Miss Considine’s trio, gave their approval, for they were hardy men and paid to do a job. They’d fought Indians before and did not think the Apaches would be any greater danger.
With the matter settled Dusty called the Kid forward. Standing in the flickering flames, looking savage as any Indian himself, the Kid gave forth of his inborn knowledge of such matters. He warned of the dangers of straggling or straying any distance away from the main body. The Apache was a master at the art of concealment and would lay for hours patiently watching and waiting for a chance to snap up an unsuspecting white victim. The travelers must cling together, hunting parties staying as parties and never less than four men along, preferably with a repeating rifle for added protection. The hunting parties were to be organized, the flanks and rear guarded by pairs of outriders, not single men. If one of the pair was to be shot by Apaches the other must leave him and head back to warn the train. There must be no staying to help the shot outrider, the train was more important.
The Kid also lay stress on the Apache’s habit of hitting at dawn when the guards were tired. There was little chance of a full-scale attack at night for the Apache did not fight in the darkness. He would sneak in to try and steal horses or cattle though and so all guards would need to be on the alert. The Kid suggested every dog in the train be allowed to either roam free all night or be fastened outside of the wagons to give an extra warning.
The crowd listened, even though many of them were much older than the Kid. They were hearing words of wisdom from a man who knew Indians from A to izzard and who would steer them through if he could. Their lives, the lives of every man, woman and child on the train depended on following the advice of the tall, slim and Indian-dark young Texan with the babyishly innocent face and the cold red-hazel eyes.
It was an alert, though not nervous or panic-stricken camp that night. The sentries were never more alert but without having their trigger fingers ready to throw lead into shadows or at innocent noises. The Kid left at midnight, riding one of the best horses Raines owned, using a saddle blanket and no saddle. He led a second fine horse and his big white followed him. Dusty watched the Kid ride, saw him go as he had so many times before, riding into what could be either death or something to which death would be preferable. Dusty did not allow himself to brood or think about it. The Kid knew the risks he took, took them wide-eyed and openly, as did every member of Ole Devil’s floating outfit when they rode upon a chore.
The train rolled out at the crack of dawn and although Louise was hoping to discuss the likelihood of Maisie’s guilt with Dusty she never was given a chance. Dusty rode at the point of the train with her father and kept her on the move, riding with messages to the flanks, the rear guard or to any wagon which tended to lag and make a gap in the train. It was her own fault she mused, as she changed her horses for the third time. She asked Dusty to give her work and he was doing just that.
Red ranged ahead of the train, always in sight, for Dusty was firm on that and far behind them alone, save for his matched Army Colts and his Winchester, was Mark, watching their back-trail for the first sign of the Apaches.
It was around two o’clock in the morning that the Kid returned, on the second day of his journey from the train. He came in silence and Dusty, not a heavy sleeper at such times, did not wake up until the Kid was almost to him. For all that there was no slow transition, no half awake stirrings and mumblings. Dusty came from fast asleep to completely awake in a flash, rolling from his blankets and holding his Army Colts in his hands.
‘Easy, amigo, it’s me,’ drawled the Kid.
It took a man with cool nerves to ignore the fact that he was covered by guns in the hands of three men who could call their shots, for Red and Mark were also awake. The Kid never even batted an eyelid, for he knew none of his friends was the kind to throw his shots without knowing where they were going and for what purpose.
The Raines fire had died down but the Kid drew wood from the rawhide ‘possum belly’ under the wagon and got the blaze rising again. The old colored woman peered out of the wagon where she and Louise bunked at night. She saw the four young Texans gather around the fire and climbed from the wagon to make coffee for them.
‘We’ve got trouble, Dusty,’ said the Kid.
‘That figures. You wouldn’t have been back if we hadn’t.’
‘I found their camp easy enough. It’s some bigger than we expected. Likely got more men joining all the time. The braves are out, split into bunches of between ten and thirty to test out the medicine. There’s maybe two or three hundred of them at the camp now. One of them same bunches knows about the train.’
‘You sure of it?’ asked Red. ‘I never saw any Injun sign.’
‘One of their scouts saw you. Now they’s laying up about a mile over the top of that steep grade and they’re not waiting for the planting moon so’s they can put down their crops,’ drawled the Kid, then grinned at the worried looking Red. ‘Don’t get all into a mucksweat, Red. That scout wasn’t no green button fresh from off the hoss herding. He was a brave grown and knew what he was doing. You’d have had to ride two more miles at least afore you found any sign of him and been real lucky if you found it for he didn’t leave much. I wouldn’t have found it but I was lucky and using the same route he took earlier.’
The other three knew how much, or little, luck was involved. The Kid not only thought but almost was an Indian when he rode scout. That he and the Apache each selected the same route took little explaining. It was the route which offered the best concealment and easiest travel to a man who did not wish to be seen.
‘Then they aim to hit us as we go up the slope,’ Mark put in. ‘We should be able to hold off a bunch that size.’
‘If there’s only a small bunch now. I saw signs that the war medicine’s been lucky enough for them to try and take on something big. Anyways, Apaches are no man’s fools. They wouldn’t stack thirty braves against a train this size. Way I see it they’re camped a fair piece back and waiting for the train to be moving up that slope. Then they’ll hit it. If there’s a small bunch they’ll wreck what they can, scatter the remuda and stock. If it’s a big enough branch it’ll be like the Alamo all over again, only a damned sight messier.’
The old negress poured out coffee, hardly understanding half of what was being said. She handed around the cups and waited to hear if that Cap’n Fog wanted anything more. The old woman watched Dusty with a smile flickering on her face. There was a man, she thought, a real big man.
Dusty was aware of his responsibilities to the people of the train. Even now they could run back to the comparative safety of Hammerlock and hope for an army escort. That would be the safe and easy way of a prudent man. It might cost these people all their wordly goods, cause them to lose their homes but save their lives. He knew the decision was his and his alone. He could call on Colonel Raines as leader of the train, or even put the matter to a vote, then whatever happened would see him in the clear. He could have done either but that was never Dusty Fog’s way. If the responsibility of wagon master called for a decision then he would make that decision, stand by it and push it to the bitter end.
‘This slope’ll be about a day’s drive, I reckon,’ he said.
‘Near as damn it,’ agreed the Kid. ‘You’d likely get there and stop for the night by a fair stream that runs along the bottom, then haul up with fresh teams the next morning. Which same’d be when the Apaches aim to hit you.’
‘Make me a map of the area if you can,’ Dusty ordered. ‘Show me roughly how steep the slope is. Cousin Red, go wake Colonel Raines. Mark, shake out Jim Lourde. Get the maps while you’re with the Colonel, Cousin Red.’
The two cowhands went fast and without asking questions. They knew Dusty of old, knew he did not expect a man to stand around and talk when that grim note came to his voice.
Raines and Jim Lourde arrived with the speed of old campaigners, men long used to urgent calls in the middle of the night. Raines spread his map on the table while the Kid, with the aid of his trusted old bowie knife, made marks on the ground which told Dusty much, although the Kid never took a formal geography lesson in his life. At least five minutes Dusty stood by the Kid, asking questions, pointing to the map while the others waited, drinking coffee and watching him. Raines, a full colonel in the War, stood back with the others. He knew how to give orders and how to take them. Here was a man who was his master in a matter of strategy and the Colonel was willing to admit it.
By the time the Kid finished answering Dusty possessed a fair knowledge of how the ground at the slope looked. He turned to the others and the two cowhands at least knew he was ready to give orders and make plans.
‘Who’re the best four drivers on the train?’ he asked. Lourde rattled off three names then paused. He appeared to be hesitating before mentioning the fourth name. At last he went on. ‘Gantry’s about the best driver of them all.’
‘Get him and the other three. Try not to disturb the camp. I don’t want a flock of folks here.’
The four men came back with Lourde, clearly puzzled at being shaken out of their rest at this hour of the night. Gantry was particularly puzzled, for he knew his standing with Dusty was not high on account of his earlier behavior. It came as something of a surprise when Dusty passed him a cup of coffee.
‘How much spare harness do you have, Jim?’ Dusty asked. ‘Enough to make a double harness for four teams?’
‘I reckon so,’ Lourde replied and saw the angry gleam which came into Dusty’s eyes. It was the look of a tough army officer when a subordinate gave a half-answer to an important question. ‘Yes, sir, Cap’n. There’s more than enough.’
‘Then I want the folks shaking out early comes the first sight of morning. I want an easy run without tiring the teams too much. In the afternoon, Lon, you take out the four drivers here and show them that slope. It’s what the Apaches would expect us to do. Make sure they know every inch of it. You drivers look it over, be sure that you know the best route to run a double team up it—in the dark.’
‘That slope’s tolerable steep, Cap’n,’ Gantry put in. ‘I’ve been out this way on hossback and seen it once. I’d say what you want can’t be done.’
‘Which same’s going to make it tolerable hard on you, seeing’s how you’re going to do it tomorrow night,’ Dusty replied. He did not mention that Gantry was also supposed to have been through the gap in the hills near Hammerlock, for Dusty knew the man was sincere in his desire to help. ‘I don’t know how you aim to do it, but I do know we’re going to have to do it just the same.’
‘Have we any other choice?’ asked another of the drivers.
‘Sure, turn back for Hammerlock, although we don’t know if the Apaches are up all round or not. Our only chance is to run that slope tomorrow night and make sure every wagon’s up there by dawn. The Apaches are waiting to jump us as we move up but they won’t do it in the dark.’
That put the matter down as plain as any of the men would want to see it. They gathered around the marks the Kid made and studied them. This was sort of geography they could all understand, for the average bull-whacker had small use for formal maps. Gantry was telling the truth about the slope, for he had come through this stretch of country, although on horseback. He knew the Kid’s sketch of the slope was not far out in its angle. He also knew, as did every other man, just what an Indian attack on such a slope would mean.
‘Couldn’t we form a circle at the bottom of the slope so they couldn’t ride around us, Cap’n?’ asked a driver. ‘Hold them off that way?’
‘Nope. We’d be under their guns from the top of the slope unless we stopped so far out that we’d lose the advantage of the cliff anyway. They’d just lay off from us and wait until more of their pards pulled in and they could get us easy. On top and forted up we’ll make them think their medicine’s gone all bad on them and they’ll not be sticking so hard then.’
With that Dusty got down to details. Giving his orders with clarity and in such a way that the listening men understood them. The men stayed silent, taking in every word Dusty said. He told each of them what his special duty would be, warning that extra plans and changes might need to be made as the situation developed. Mark and Red would each be in charge of a working party, their men selected for size, weight and strength. Raines would be in command at the head of the slope and Jim Lourde at the bottom. The Kid’s sole duty was to roam in the night and make sure no Apache scout sneaked in to disrupt the work. The four drivers would do just that, drive, handle the ribbons of each team as it ran up the slope. Gantry was put in charge of that side of things, being the only one who knew the slope. His duty would be to make sure he picked a route to get them up the slope with as much ease as possible.
‘You’ll get anything you want by the way of help, Gantry,’ Dusty said, for the first time letting the chilling ‘mister’ drop when he spoke to the man.
‘I want good men at the foot of the slope ready to help with the harnessing, Cap’n,’ Gantry remarked.
‘You’ll get them,’ Dusty replied. ‘They’d better know that any wagon which isn’t up will have to be left. But every wagon’ll be to the top and in the circle. We’ll have to make sure of that.’
The men asked questions, made their suggestions and observations. There was some good-natured banter among the deadly serious talk and a feeling of trust built itself, wielded together by the small man from the Rio Hondo, the man called Dusty Fog.
In that moment it became clear why Dusty could make bigger and stronger men obey his will. It was not only that he was chain lightning fast with his matched guns. Nor was it to do with his knowledge of ju-jitsu and karate which made the bigger men helpless in his hands. Dusty Fog was born with the flair for command, the air of leadership which made other men know he would be the one to follow in time of trouble. It was his ability to think ahead, to plan clearly and yet be ready to change his plans which made Dusty the leader of men he undoubtedly was.
The men broke up their meeting, the drivers and Lourde to catch up on what sleep they could get before roll out in the morning. Mark to make his rounds of the sentries and horse-herders while Dusty, the Kid, Red and Gaines stayed at the fire.
‘You’re putting a lot of trust in Gantry,’ Raines remarked, taking out a cigar and lighting it.
‘Likely sir. He’s the best driver of them all and he knows his own life’s at stake as well as ours. He’ll be too far gone to turn back when we reach the slope. So he’ll have to go on.’
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��Can we make it?’ Raines asked after a few moments.
Dusty did not reply for a long moment. His voice was low, gentle, yet grimly determined when he answered:
‘Colonel, happen we get that far we’ve got to make it.’
So the people of the train were stirred from their beds at an earlier hour than was usual. Dusty gathered them around the fire which now blazed in the center of the train and told them their position. He held nothing back, the dangers, their only chance, he told it all. There was no comment, for they’d put themselves in his hands and so were willing to leave it at that. Dusty made sure every man knew where he would be working and under which leader, then told the women what would be expected of them. Only when he was sure that everyone knew their correct place for the night did Dusty allow them to make their breakfast and prepare to roll.
There was no rush about the way they travelled through the day, for Dusty wanted to conserve his teams. It would not be easy that night and tired teams might cause disaster.
Ahead of the train ranged the Kid and Red Blaze, the Kid well ahead, Red in sight all the time. They formed a chain of sight which kept Dusty in touch with the country for miles ahead. They used cowhand trail driving signals when there was anything of note but during the day few signals came. The Apaches set their war medicine on the top of that slope ahead and would not bother with the train until it made the slow and tortuous climb on the following day.
Only the train was not going to wait until the following day. The Kid returned from his scout in time to collect the four drivers and take them ahead to the slope. They rode up it, noting the grade, picking out in the skilled way of men who knew their jobs the best route for them to take in the night. Each driver gave his opinion, although their views almost matched from the start. In their experienced manner they knew what hazards must be overcome and where they needed the help of the two parties commanded by Mark and Red.