The Green River Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “No,” Waco said. “I’ve done some mining in my time, and if it can be done, then I’ll do it. I’ll swing the hammer true.”

  Waco again swung the hammer, striking the rock only inches from the mule’s trapped leg. The animal broke into a new frenzy of braying.

  “It’s driving the edge of that stone crevice deeper into his leg,” said Dallas.

  “It’s also chipping away the rock that’s got him trapped,” Waco said. “Another time or two, and he’ll be free.”

  “Make it quick,” said Lonnie, “or he’s goin’ to break that leg trying to get loose.”

  Waco swung the hammer again, and there was some movement of the mule’s leg.

  “Hit it once more in that same place,” Lonnie said, “and I believe he’ll be free.”

  Again Waco swung the hammer, chipping away the rock. While Dallas and Gus tried to steady the mule, Lonnie slowly worked the imprisoned hoof out of the rock crevice. The mule immediately showed his gratitude by trying to run away. Dallas locked his arms about the animal’s neck, dragging him down. Lonnie seized the lariat from his saddle and, using it for a lead rope, got a loop over the mule’s head. The riders started back toward the river, the mule limping along on three legs.

  “It’ll be a while before he uses that leg,” said Waco.

  “We’ll have a look at it when we reach camp,” Lonnie said. “We don’t have the time to wait for him to heal. If nothing else, we may have to take another mule from the wagon, replacing them with two horses.”*

  “There may be some hope for that,” said Gus. “Surely among all the horses we took from those Mejicano outlaws, there’ll be at least two that’s pulled a wagon before.”

  They splashed across the Pecos, the mule limping along behind.

  “How badly is he hurt?” Becky asked.

  “See for yourself,” said Lonnie. “All the way to the bone, likely. Kirby, you and Dirk get a fire started. We’ll need some hot water.”

  “If some of you will hold him, I’ll do the doctoring,” Becky said. “I don’t fancy being kicked in the head. You look like you can use some doctoring yourself,” she said, looking at the still-bloody nicks on Lonnie’s face.

  “I can wait,” said Lonnie. “Take care of the mule first. Then we’ll cross-hobble him.”

  “I’ll help you doctor him,” April said hopefully.

  Lonnie was about to refuse when Becky caught his eye. When he said nothing, Becky spoke.

  “I’ll appreciate your help, April. As soon as that pot of water starts to boil, bring it, and we’ll get started.”

  The mule’s leg was cleaned with hot water and then doused with whiskey. When alcohol hit the raw wound, it took six men to throw the mule and keep him from running away. The injured leg was then smeared with sulfur salve, and a bandage was knotted in place. They carefully allowed the mule to get to his feet, and with a length of rope, Dallas quickly cross-hobbled him. With a left front leg hobbled to a right hind leg, he wouldn’t be going far. He was then led back to join the other mules and horses.

  “Now,” said Becky, her critical eyes on Lonnie, “I’ll patch you up.”

  The rest of the outfit moved away, talking to Gus, Waco, and Dallas about what had been done to rescue the unfortunate mule. It afforded Lonnie and Becky some privacy.

  “I reckon Kirby and Laura patched things up,” said Lonnie.

  “They have,” Becky said. “All it took was for Kirby to say he was sorry for acting like a sore-tailed grizzly.”

  Lonnie laughed. “What about Dirk and April? I saw you pass me that ‘shut up’ look.”

  “I’m glad you’ve learned to recognize that,” said Becky. “I set Dirk straight, I think, and he convinced April it wasn’t her fault the mule wandered away. I thought she would feel better if I allowed her to help doctor the mule.”

  “You’ve really got a handle on what other folks are thinking,” Lonnie said. “That’s just a little scary.”

  Becky laughed. “Then just be damn careful what thoughts go wandering through your head.”

  “Oh, I will,” said Lonnie. “Round the others up. I’ll tell them what we aim to do.”

  “What are we aiming to do?”

  “You’ll find out when I tell the others,” Lonnie said.

  The outfit came together, and Lonnie wasted no time in speaking to them.

  “That mule likely won’t heal for a week or two, and there’s no way we can wait until he’s able to work again. Today, we’re going through all those horses we picked up from those Mejicano outlaws. There must be at least two that have pulled a wagon before, and that’s the two we’re looking for. We’ll have to use two horses. Horse beside a horse, and mule beside a mule. We’ll tie the other two mules on lead ropes behind the wagon, just so old three-legs don’t come down with the wanderlust again.”

  “He may not be able to walk on that leg as soon as tomorrow,” said Becky.

  “Then he’ll walk on three legs,” Lonnie said, “unless you aim to hog-tie him and stuff him in the wagon.”

  They all laughed except Becky, and finally she joined in. She was changing, and for the better. Lonnie winked at her.

  Along the Pecos, July 29, 1853

  Having devoted much of the day to finding and freeing the wandering mule, there was little to be gained by continuing the drive before the next morning. Even then, the mule might not be able to stand on the injured leg.

  “Justin,” said Lonnie, “there’s still plenty of daylight left. Take Wovoka with you and scout maybe twenty miles ahead. The rest of us are going to try and find a pair of horses who aren’t strangers to a wagon, if we can.”

  Justin and Wovoka rode out.

  “How do you know if a horse can be hitched to a wagon or not?” Becky asked.

  “We’ll choose some of the calmest ones we can find,” said Lonnie, “and they’ll have to be geldings. Then we’ll hitch them to the wagon and see how they behave.”

  “They still may raise hell when they find they’re hitched up with a team of mules,” said Kirby Lowe.

  “Maybe not,” said Lonnie.

  They walked among the grazing horses, ruffling the ears of those coming close enough. One of the blacks particularly impressed Lonnie. He put his arm around the horse’s neck, and the animal nickered. Lonnie led him away from the others.

  “Here’s another,” Waco Talley said, leading a second black.

  “The rest of you keep looking,” said Lonnie. “Waco and me will try these two.”

  “We goin’ to hitch the mules up with them?” Waco asked.

  “Not yet,” said Lonnie. “If they don’t go crazy when we harness and hitch them to the wagon, I think they’ll accept the two mules.”

  “The mules may not accept them,” Waco said.

  “Then we’ll use the pair of mules for the lead team and put blinders on the varmints,” said Lonnie. “They won’t be able to see the pair of horses behind them.”

  The horses stood quietly, accepting the harness. Once harnessed, they obligingly back-stepped up to the wagon.

  “They’re no strangers to a wagon,” Waco said.

  “We’ll go with these two,” said Lonnie. “I doubt we could do any better.”

  Removing the harness from the two blacks, Lonnie and Waco led them back to the rest of the herd.

  “We’ve found a couple more friendly ones,” Dallas said.

  “Keep them in mind, in case we need them,” said Lonnie. “These two blacks have been hitched to a wagon before. We’ll go with them.”

  “Lonnie,” Becky said, “before we get into Paiute country, Mindy, April, Laura, and me would like to have a bath in the river.”

  “I can’t help feeling that’s a bad idea,” said Lonnie. “Some of us would have to go with you and keep watch. That’s not … quite proper.”

  “I’ve been called a gentleman,” Kirby said. “I’ll go along and stand watch.”

  “What are you going to be watching?” asked Laura suspiciousl
y.

  That struck Becky, Mindy, and April as hilariously funny.

  “See that bend in the river down yonder?” Lonnie said. “The four of you can go just around that bend, out of sight. Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me will be on this side of the bend waiting for you. If you see anything suspicious, get out of there and holler for us.”

  With blankets for towels, the four women started toward the bend in the river, with Lonnie, Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby following.

  “I don’t like this,” said Dallas. “We’re not quite in Paiute country, but we’re not out of Comanche country, either. This would be a grand time for Indians to show up.”

  “Maybe they won’t be in the water too long,” Lonnie said. “It’ll be muddy, with them stomping around.”

  Lonnie and his companions waited around the bend, near enough to hear the splashing in the water. Muddy as the water was, the women were enjoying its welcome coolness.

  “Suppose they’re peeking at us through the bushes,” Laura said. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “I don’t know about Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby,” Becky said, “but Lonnie wouldn’t stoop that low, and he’d give the others hell if they get any ideas.”

  “Snake,” April screamed, and started for the river’s west bank. She slipped, fell, got up, and screamed again.

  Becky, Mindy, and Laura stumbled out behind her. But Lonnie and his companions had heard only the screams.

  “Come on,” Lonnie shouted. “Something’s happened.”

  The four naked women stood on the opposite bank of the river looking helpless.

  “What the hell is it?” Lonnie demanded.

  “A snake,” said April in a trembling voice. “A big snake.”

  “You saw it?” Dirk asked.

  “I didn’t have to see it,” said April fearfully. “I stepped on it.”

  “Where are your clothes and blankets?” Lonnie asked.

  “Over there,” said Becky, “in the brush behind you.”

  “Oh, great,” Lonnie said. “You’ll all have to come back across.”

  “Not me,” said April, shuddering. “I’ll stand here naked until … until …”

  “Until everybody’s had a chance to see you without your britches,” Dirk said.

  She had some choice words for Dirk, and the other women, struck by the humor of the situation, laughed.

  “Are you crossing this damn river or do I have to come and get you?” Dirk snarled.

  “Come and get me,” said April defiantly, her hands on her hips.

  There was a shallows where the water was only knee-deep. Without a word, stepping into the river, Dirk waded across. Seizing April, he flung her over his shoulder head-down and carried her to the opposite bank.

  “Now,” Dirk said, standing her on her feet, “get your damn clothes on, and don’t be expecting another bath unless it rains.”

  April’s three companions still stood on the opposite bank of the river.

  “I reckon Dirk’s got the right idea,” said Lonnie. “Come on.”

  He waded across the river, followed by Dallas and Kirby. There was a hint of amusement in the eyes of the three women as they each were shouldered and taken across the river. April appeared to be in no hurry drying herself with a blanket. Dirk stood glaring at her, unsure as to what he should say or do. Wisely, he said nothing. The other three women took their time drying themselves, while Lonnie, Dallas, and Kirby were as silent as Dirk. Finally, when the women were again dressed, they followed Lonnie, Dallas, Kirby, and Dirk back to camp. The four looked grim, and the rest of the outfit decided not to ask any questions as to what might have happened. Lonnie went to the wagon and got two tins of grease. He and his three companions, once their sodden boots had dried, would be forced to grease them. Otherwise, the leather would become as stiff and hard as a shingle from a south Texas barn. Several hours before sundown, Becky, Mindy, April, and Laura began supper. They still had dried apples, and as the fruit boiled, Wovoka and Justin rode in. The Indian eyed the cooking pot in anticipation.

  “No Indian sign,” said Justin. “Why are you hombres wet to the knees?”

  “We’ve been wading in the river,” Lonnie said sourly. “By God, don’t ask why.”

  Justin shrugged his shoulders and began unsaddling his horse. Wovoka had unsaddled his mount and sat cross-legged near the cooking fire.

  “Look at him,” said Becky. “Feed him dried apple pies, and he never speaks an unkind word. I wish all men were like that.”

  “In snow country, when it’s storming, an Indian leaves his squaw outside, bringing his horse into the teepee,” Lonnie said. “Maybe the rest of us could learn from him.”

  “With me,” said Becky, “that would happen only once.”

  The others said nothing, and Lonnie chose not to continue the tirade. Supper was eaten mostly in silence, and when the first watch rode out, April and Laura made no effort to go with it. Dirk McNelly and Kirby Lowe rode together, discussing the afternoon’s events.

  “Why the hell are they down on us?” Kirby wondered. “It was their idea, taking a dip in the river. We only went down there after April screeched like el Diablo himself had hold of her. Was it our fault they was all standin’ there jaybird naked?”

  “No,” said Dirk, “and what burns my tail feathers is why they didn’t come out on the riverbank where they’d left their clothes. I ain’t makin’ any excuses or apologies.”

  “Tarnation, you’re right,” Kirby said. “Hell, we don’t even know it was a snake. Might have been a tree root We done what we thought was right.”

  When the second watch rode out, Becky didn’t ride with Lonnie, nor did Mindy ride with Dallas. Like Dirk and Kirby had already done, Lonnie and Dallas pondered the unusual circumstances.

  “I don’t understand why they’re put out with us,” Dallas complained. “It wasn’t like we were spying on them, when April was screeching and howling.”

  “Sooner or later, we’ll have to have it out with them,” said Lonnie, “but I’m with you. I don’t aim to make any excuses. If she gives me hell, I’ll hand it right back. I didn’t say anything yet, but I didn’t tie the knot with Becky to have here standin’ there before other hombres, jaybird naked.”

  “The other hombres meanin’ Dirk, Kirby, and me,” Dallas said.

  “Yeah,” said Lonnie, “but I don’t aim to take it out on any of you. In fact, I reckon I won’t say another word about it. Hell, I ain’t gonna fight with Becky from here to Utah.”

  “I reckon you got the right idea,” Dallas said. “Let’s talk to Dirk and Kirby. Without any of us raising hell about it, we’ll see how long these females go on blaming us.”

  *Because of a difference in stride, a mule wasn’t compatible in harness beside a horse.

  10

  Along the Pecos. July 30, 1853.

  After breakfast, Lonnie brought the two horses they had chosen, while Dallas brought a pair of mules. The horses were harnessed to the wagon, while the mules were harnessed ahead of them, as the lead team. Almost immediately, the mules took to peering around to see who—or what—was behind them.

  “Dirk,” said Lonnie, “get the blinders out of the wagon. We’re goin’ to need them.”

  Kirby Lowe brought the remaining two mules on lead ropes. The injured one limped, but no longer walked on three legs.

  “Kirby,” Lonnie said, “you, Gus, and Waco change that mule’s bandage. While you’re about it, give him another dose of sulfur salve.”

  It was Mindy’s day on the wagon, and she already sat on the wagon box.

  “Mindy,” said Lonnie, “we’re going to tie these two mules behind the wagon on lead ropes. Don’t travel so fast that the one with the injured leg can’t keep up.”

  “How am I supposed to know whether he’s keeping up or not?” Mindy asked. “I can’t see him behind the wagon.”

  “Becky, April, or Laura will ride alongside or behind you,” said Lonnie, “and they can tell you if you need to slow d
own.”

  “Well, do you want one of us, or all three?” Becky asked.

  “If it takes all three of you to watch two mules,” said Lonnie pleasantly, “then all three of you follow the wagon.”

  Becky’s former cowboys knew something unusual was going on, but they managed to hide their grins.

  Gus and Waco tied the two mules behind the wagon on lead ropes.

  “The rest of you saddle up and let’s ride,” said Lonnie, going for his own horse.

  When they were ready, Lonnie shouted the command.

  “Head ’em up, move ’em out.”

  Becky, Laura, and April all rode behind the wagon. The mule with the injured leg decided he didn’t like his new position, and braying frantically, tried to rear. But he could not, for the rope was taut, and he began kicking and nipping at the other mule beside him. Not to be outdone, the other mule did some kicking and nipping of his own.

  “Mindy,” Becky shouted, “the mules are fighting.”

  “Then stop them,” Mindy shouted back. “It’s all I can do just driving the wagon.”

  Becky rode her horse between the two mules, and the one with the injured leg sank his big teeth into her right thigh. Becky beat the animal on the head with her fists, and it had absolutely no effect. Meanwhile, the other mules was still kicking and biting, all of which spooked Becky’s horse. Nickering, the horse tried to rear. Laura kicked her horse into a gallop, getting ahead of the wagon.

  “Stop the wagon, Mindy,” Laura shouted. “That mule’s about to chew Becky’s leg off.”

  Mindy stopped the wagon. Two of the drag riders—Kirby Lowe and Waco Talley—had heard the commotion and rode back to see what was wrong. They were dismayed to find Becky and her horse caught between the two mules, one of which still had his teeth in her thigh. The other mule, trying to get to his adversary, was nipping and kicking Becky’s horse. The horse tried to back-step, but the mule still had a firm grip on Becky’s leg.

  “Waco,” said Kirby, “untie that varmint from the wagon and get him out of the way.”