“Since Becky’s leg’s well enough,” said Mindy, “I think all of us should sleep as near one another as we can. We can keep our guns handy.”
“I’ll go along with that,” Lonnie said. “Gus, I want you and Wovoka among the horses, and except for Wovoka, the rest of us will circle the herd. Wovoka, I want you circling the camp afoot all night. Comprende?”
“Sí,” said Wovoka, drawing his Bowie from beneath his waistband.
A dozen miles south along the Pecos, the four riders had dismounted and unsaddled their horses. It was still light when they built a fire and prepared their meager supper. It was Neal Stubbs who said what was on all their minds.
“We’re far enough from Santa Fe. I want my share of the gold right now.”
All eyes turned to Dobie Aikens, for they expected him to disagree. His manner, when he spoke, was surprisingly mild.
“We’ll divvy up after we eat. I ain’t goin’ on to El Paso. I once had some trouble with the Rangers, and I ain’t about to let the Texas law get its hands on me. I aim to ride west to Arizona Territory.”
“Damned considerate of you to tell us,” said Rye Wimberly. “The Rangers might string up the rest of us just on general principles, if they caught us ridin’ with you.”
“Don’t you go bad-mouthin’ me,” Aikins growled. “You’re a damn thief just like me.”
“True enough,” said Wimberly, “but I ain’t a killer, hidin’ out so the law can’t find me and stretch my neck.”
Besides Rye Wimberly, Neal Stubbs and Fox Presnall were looking unfavorably toward Aikens. The bearded outlaw laughed, and it was an unpleasant sound. Then he spoke.
“So none of you don’t like old Dobie. You was quick enough to throw in with me back in Denver when I had plans for takin’ that bank in Santa Fe.”
“That was one thing, but likin’ you is something else,” Rye Wimberly said. “I decided I didn’t like you after you slit that saloon girl’s throat in Denver. Now that we got that Santa Fe bank job behind us, if you don’t split with us and go your way, then I aim to go on alone. It’s one thing to be facin’ a robbery charge, an’ another to be dodgin’ a noose because you killed for no reason.”
“Then lay down a blanket and we’ll split the gold right now,” Aikins said. “I’ve had all I can stand of you gutless hombres”
The gold coins were emptied from all their saddlebags, and they all sat cross-legged in a circle around the blanket. Aikins began separating the coins in four separate piles, one before each of them.
“Now,” said Fox Presnall when the dividing was done, “let’s count it.”
“No need for that,” Aikins said. “You all saw me divide it equal.”
“Then you count yours and I’ll count mine,” said Rye Wimberly. “Then we’ll compare.”
Neal Stubbs and Fox Presnall were looking at Dobie Aikins in a way that suggested if he refused to count his share, he had somehow managed to cheat the rest of them.
“All right, damn it,” Aikins said, “but I’m only doin’ it once. Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut.”
Aikins began stacking the double eagles, ten of them to a stack.
“Five thousand and forty dollars,” Fox Presnall said when Aikins had finished.
“Now I reckon I’ll saddle up and ride,” said Aikins.
“I reckon you won’t,” Rye Wimberly said. “Not until I count mine.”
To the disgust of Aikins, his three companions counted their shares. Satisfied the split had been equal, the three men returned the gold to their saddlebags. Aikins was the last to gather up his. He then saddled his horse, took the saddlebags, and rode downriver.
“That ain’t the way to Arizona Territory,” said Neal Stubbs.
“Hell, let him ride on to El Paso where the Rangers can get him,” Fox Presnall said.
The three outlaws doused their fire before dark and lay down, their heads on their saddles. It was nearly midnight when a shadowy figure on foot approached the sleeping men. Pale starlight glinted off the Bowie knife in Dobie Akins’s upraised hand. He visited each of the sleeping men, slashing their throats. He then drove the Bowie into the ground, cleaning the blade. He took the saddlebags with all the gold that had belonged to the three dead men, and secured all the saddlebags to the saddle on one of the horses. He then mounted his own horse, and with the packhorse on a lead rope, started north along the Pecos.
The night had been quiet. Some people in the camp dozed while others circled the drowsing herd. Kicking off her blanket, Mindy sat up.
“What are you doing?” Becky asked.
“I have to go to the bushes,” said Mindy.
“You know what Lonnie said about that,” Becky said. “Squat where you are.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Mindy, “we have to sleep here the rest of the night and cook breakfast here in the morning. I’m only going over there in that bit of brush.”
Mindy was barely out of sight when all hell broke loose among the horse remuda. The animals nickered in terror as Gus and Waco fought to hold them. Some riders galloped to the rescue, while others mounted their horses on the run. But all the turmoil ended as quickly as it had begun. There was only silence.
“All of you gather at the wagon,” Lonnie said quietly.
Quickly they gathered around in the darkness, and it was Waco who spoke.
“We don’t know the reason for it,” Waco said, “but me and Gus found the cause. This headless six-foot rattler was flung in among the horses.”
“You didn’t see anybody, then,” said Lonnie.
“No,” said Gus. “We was fightin’ like hell just to hold the horse remuda. They might have run even then if Wovoka hadn’t been close enough to jump in and help us.”
“I hate to suggest it,” Lonnie said, “but this has all the earmarks of an Indian trick, although they generally run a horse through camp with a fresh cougar hide roped to it.”
“Mindy’s gone!” said Becky.
“Gone?” Lonnie said. “How? Where?”
“She went to the bushes just a little before the commotion began among the horses,” said Becky. “We forgot about her when the horses started nickering.”
“Damn it,” said Lonnie, “that explains the diversion.”
“Becky,” Dallas said softly, “show me which way Mindy went.”
Becky led him to the place where they had last seen Mindy. Kirby Lowe had gone to the wagon for the lantern, which he lighted.
“All of you stand back,” said Dallas. “Lonnie and me will look for tracks.”
Among the old dead leaves there was little hope of finding any tracks, but Lonnie and Dallas refused to give up the search. Finally, on a short stretch of bare ground, there was a single boot print.
“It’s not Mindy’s,” Dallas said.
They went on, occasionally finding some small sign. Finally they found where at least two horses had been tied. The horse tracks led south along the river.
“Them bastards that was through here today,” said Dallas. “I’m goin’ after them.”
“You’re not going alone,” Lonnie said. “There’s four of them. Anyway, we won’t find them in the middle of the night.”
“First light may be too late for Mindy,” said Dallas bitterly. “They’ll have had time to use her, kill her, and move on. I’m going after them as soon as I can saddle my horse.”
“I understand,” Lonnie said, “and I don’t blame you. I’ll ride with you, and we’ll take Wovoka with us.”
Dallas said nothing, allowing Lonnie to speak to the rest of the outfit. They were quiet as Lonnie, Dallas, and Wovoka mounted their horses.
“Hold the herd and the horses here until we return,” said Lonnie.
“Oh, God,” Laura said, “I wish we had done something to keep Mindy in our sight. I feel like it’s our fault.”
“Well, I don’t,” said Becky. “Lonnie told us to get in one place and stay there. Mindy heard him, just like the rest of us.”
/> “Let’s don’t argue among ourselves about who was wrong,” April said. “Let’s all stay awake and pray that Lonnie, Dallas, and Wovoka can find them while there’s still time for Mindy.”
The camp was wide awake, but there was little talk. Each of them had their guns handy, but there was a sobering realization among them that their precautions were in vain, that nothing they could do would save Mindy.
Downriver, Wovoka rode ahead, Lonnie and Dallas following. They had gone almost a dozen miles when a horse nickered. Wovoka reined up, raising his hand in the starlight. The three of them dismounted. Wovoka pointed downriver, then to himself. He would go and investigate. Lonnie and Dallas had to satisfy themselves with that, because not only might their presence endanger Mindy, a dangerous ambush was a possibility.
Wovoka moved like a shadow, his Bowie gripped in his right hand. Ahead, there was a nicker, and a horse stomped its hooves. Wovoka paused and then went on. The moon had just risen, and eventually Wovoka could see the shadowy forms of two horses. His eyes roamed the small clearing between him and the horses, and that’s when he saw the three bodies. There was no movement, and quickly Wovoka returned to his waiting companions.
“Dead hombres” said Wovoka, holding up three fingers.
“Maybe three of the four,” Dallas said. “Let’s see who they are, and then we’ll know which of the bastards we’re looking for.”
Leading their horses, the three riders reached the grisly scene of death. The moonlight was such that they could see each dead face.
“The missing one is the varmint calling himself Dobie Aikens,” said Lonnie. “I don’t see how he managed to slit the throats of all these men, even if they were sleeping.”
“God only knows how many others he’s killed,” Dallas said, his voice trembling, “and he has poor Mindy.”
“We have one thing in our favor, and so does Mindy,” said Lonnie. “He’s likely to ride all night, expecting us to follow. We’ll catch the varmint before he’s had time to have his way with Mindy.”
“Horse,” Wovoka said, pointing to the two animals in the shadows.
“Horse be damned,” said Dallas. “That murdering bastard has Mindy. Come on.”
“You can take the horses on the way back, Wovoka,” Lonnie said. “We must first find this killer and take Mindy from him.”
“Sí,” said Wovoka. He mounted his horse and rode out, Lonnie and Dallas following.
The three riders stopped only to rest their horses. Nothing was said, because none of them were certain that Mindy’s abductor had continued downriver. It was frustrating, because waiting until first light, when they might see tracks, would put them farther and farther behind, perhaps costing Mindy her life.
A few miles downriver, Dobie Aikins rode ahead, the other horse following on a lead rope. On the second horse, he had tied the saddlebags containing the gold behind the saddle. Across the saddle, belly-down, he had tied Mindy. Her wrists were bound to her ankles under the horse’s belly.
“You dirty bastard,” Mindy shouted, “my outfit will be coming for me.”
Akins laughed. “You won’t be alive to see it, girlie. Come first light, we’re goin’ to find us a good hidin’ place, and you’re goin’ to entertain me for a while. I’ll be across the border before your bunch can catch up.”
It was a disturbing thought, and Mindy’s heart was frozen with fear. She became silent, so her captor wouldn’t realize just how afraid she was.
Not far behind, Wovoka, Lonnie, and Dallas rode on. The eastern sky had begun to gray. Within minutes, they would know if they were actually following a trail. When they came to some bare ground, Wovoka reined up and dismounted. Lonnie and Dallas waited while the Indian studied the ground. When he faced them, he held up two fingers, pointing south.
“The varmint’s headed for El Paso or the border,” said Dallas, “but it’s not likely he’ll be taking Mindy with him. We have to catch them while she’s still alive.”
Wovoka took the lead, kicking his horse into a gallop. Lonnie and Dallas followed. At regular intervals, Wovoka dismounted, studying the ground. Finally, getting to his feet, he pointed west across the Pecos. Quickly he mounted his horse. Lonnie and Dallas followed him across the river, and in the first bare ground they came to, they could easily see the tracks of two horses. .Wovoka slowed his horse to a walk, holding up his hand.
We’re getting close,” said Lonnie. “He’s looking for a place to hole up for a while.”
Dallas said nothing, his haggard face grim. Slowly the trio rode on until Wovoka again held up his hand.
“Stay with horse,” Wovoka said. “I find.”
Wovoka was gone only a few minutes. He beckoned to Lonnie and Dallas, and quietly the three of them advanced on foot. Ahead there was a small canyon with a blind end. As they approached, there was a terrified scream, and Lonnie had to seize Dallas.
“Go,” said Wovoka softly, pointing toward the mouth of the canyon. In his hand he held his Bowie knife. He said no more, working his way silently along the canyon’s rim until he reached the blind end.
“Come on,” Lonnie said quietly. “Wovoka has a plan. There’s nothing we can do without the risk of him killing Mindy.”
Lonnie and Dallas made their way to the mouth of the small canyon, only to find the outlaw had heard them coming. His arm was around a naked Mindy, a Colt in his hand.
“Come any closer,” said Aikins, “and the little lady gets her head blown off.”
*In 1857, soldiers were sent, driving the Mormons from Bridger’s Trading Post.
12
You murdering son-of-a-bitch,” Dallas shouted, “that’s my wife.”
Aikens laughed. “She might of been, bucko, but she ain’t no more. Now you hombres turn around and go back the way you come, and just maybe I’ll leave her alive when I’m done with her.”
A dozen feet above Aikens, on the rim of the blind canyon, stood Wovoka, Bowie in his left hand. When he leaped to the canyon floor, it was almost on silent feet, for his moccasins made little sound. Aikens turned his head enough to see Wovoka, but the Indian was too quick for him. Wovoka seized Aikens’s right arm, drawing the outlaw’s Colt away from Mindy’s head. The weapon roared, blasting lead into the canyon wall. The Indian twisted Aikens’s right arm until the outlaw cried out in pain. He dropped the Colt and in an instant, Mindy broke loose and ran to Dallas.
“So it’s knives you want, you bastard,” growled Aikens. With his free hand he drew his own Bowie from beneath his belt.
He drove his blade at Wovoka, but the Indian wasn’t there. They circled one another, each seeking an opening.
“I’ll kill the bastard,” Dallas said, reaching for his Colt.
“No,” said Lonnie. “This is Wovoka’s show. We don’t buy in unless Aikens overcomes Wovoka. This varmint kills with a knife, and it’s only fitting that he taste the blade himself.”
The struggle went on, each man grasping a knife in one hand and fending off his opponent with his free hand. Suddenly, instead of pushing the outlaw away, Wovoka used his grip on Aikens’s arm to draw his adversary toward him. Wovoka’s iron grasp still kept Aikens from getting to the Indian with the knife. Wovoka drove his knee into the outlaw’s groin, and Aikens grunted, dropping his Bowie. Once, twice, three times Wovoka drove his Bowie into Aikens’s belly. After the third thrust, the outlaw fell and didn’t move again. Wovoka drove the blade of his Bowie into the ground, cleaning it. He then thrust it under his waistband.
“Mindy,” said Dallas, “I’m sorry you had to see this.”
“I’m not,” Mindy said. “I think that’s what he had planned for me, after he … finished with me.”
“Where are your clothes?” Lonnie asked.
“I don’t know,” said Mindy. “While I was tied across a saddle, he cut them off me.”
“This would be a good time for me to take a switch to you,” Dallas said. “Damn it, all of you were told not to wander around camp in the dark.”
&nbs
p; “I know,” said Mindy meekly, “and I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Lonnie,” Dallas said, “do you think I ought to switch her behind?”
“No,” said Lonnie, “she’s been through enough. Experience is the best teacher. Get her a saddle blanket to wear back to camp.”
“Not until I thank Wovoka,” Mindy said.
The Indian had said nothing, listening to the three of them argue. He was startled as Mindy walked toward him. She threw her arms around him, kissing him full on the mouth. Wovoka was embarrassed beyond words. He stood there, his eyes on the ground, and he said nothing until Mindy backed away and spoke.
“Thank you, Wovoka.”
“Ugh,” said Wovoka. “Find horse.”
While Dallas found a blanket for Mindy, Wovoka led Aikens’s horse and the packhorse into the clearing.
“I have an idea those saddlebags are going to tell us something,” Lonnie said. “Maybe we’d better wait until we reach the herd before getting into them. Wovoka, I’ll lead these two horses. You can lead the other two that belonged to these dead coyotes. Now let’s ride. I doubt anybody’s been in the mood for breakfast, and that will delay us a while.”
The four of them reached the Pecos, following it upstream along the east bank. When they reached the place where the three dead outlaws lay, Lonnie and Dallas spared Mindy the sight by riding wide of it. Wovoka soon caught up to them, the remaining two horses on lead ropes.
“Having started off with not even half enough horses, we ain’t done bad,” said Dallas. “Besides what we had, we now have thirty-one horses that didn’t cost us a thing. We’ll have the makings of one hell of a herd by the time we reach the Green River range.”
“Unless the Rangers or a U.S. marshal catch up with us before we’re out of Texas,” Lonnie said. “We can’t prove we didn’t take every one of those horses from their original owners. I don’t much like the penalty for horse stealing.”
“Well, I ain’t for turning any of ’em loose,” said Dallas. We know we took them from outlaws that wanted us dead. They just all got a dose of their own medicine.”
The Green River Trail Page 18