Devil's Canyon

by Ralph Compton

  “God bless you, Levi,” said Blackburn.

  Quickly, they looped one of the dangling ropes under the arms of the wounded Isaac Puckett. Collins tugged on the ropes and Puckett was raised to the rim. Blackburn and Snyder secured the remaining two lines under their arms and were being lifted out when one of the Utes near the head of the canyon discovered Slade and his companions using sentry ropes to scale the canyon wall. There was the sudden roar of a Winchester, and lead sang off the stone wall, just inches from Slade’s head. Hindes and Peeler were still on the canyon floor, and Peeler seized the rope, right on Slade’s heels.

  “Hurry, damn it,” Hindes cried, “or I ain’t gonna make it.”

  Slade reached the top, scrambling over the rim, but Peeler was less fortunate. When a second Winchester roared, Peeler groaned and fell to the canyon floor. Desperately, Hindes fought the rope as slugs struck the canyon wall all around him. But the outlaws weren’t the only targets. Their movement had alerted the renegades and the Utes, and before Snyder and Blackburn reached the safety of the rim, lead sang near them like angry bees. As they were pulled to safety, Levi Collins seized the third rope, but before he could get the loop under his arms, lead slammed into his back. He fell with a groan.

  “My God,” said Dallas, “Collins is hit.”

  “I’ll have to go down after him,” Tarno said.

  “No,” said Dallas. “He’s a goner.”

  But Tarno, the half-Comanche, didn’t listen. Taking a second rope, he went over the canyon rim. Lead repeatedly slammed into the canyon wall, and Dallas Weaver held his breath. Suddenly the rope down that Tarno had descended went slack…

  Chapter 9

  With all except one of Slade’s bunch having escaped the canyon, the renegades began firing at the only remaining target. Slugs whined all about Tarno Spangler as he slid down the rope, and half a dozen feet from the bottom, lead ripped through the lariat. But Tarno landed on his feet, and seizing a second dangling rope, knelt and began working the loop over the head and shoulders of the wounded Levi Collins.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Collins grunted. “We’ll never make it alive.”

  “We ain’t dead yet,” said Tarno, yanking the rope.

  On the rim, Dallas breathed a sigh of relief when there was a tug on one of the other lariats. Tarno was alive! Dallas backstepped the horse as rapidly as he dared, aware that a Winchester on the opposite canyon rim had begun firing. Faro Duval was there, awaiting a signal to light the fuse, aware that his friends were in trouble. Dallas left the horse backstepping and went to the third lariat just in time to feel a frantic tug. Tarno was coming up! Dallas began backstepping the horse, leaving it just long enough to help the wounded Levi Collins over the rim.

  “Hard hit?” Dallas asked.

  “Shoulder,” said Collins.

  Dallas returned to the lariat that was drawing Tarno to the rim, praying that he would reach safety before one of the screaming slugs found him. But Faro’s firing from the east rim had been deadly, and some of the return fire had been directed at his muzzle flashes.

  “Were you hit?” Dallas asked anxiously, as he helped Tarno over the rim,

  “Burned a couple times,” said Tarno. “Light that match, while there’s still time.”

  Using his hat to shield the match, Dallas popped it aflame. Immediately the firing from the east rim ceased. Tarno already had Collins on one of the horses, while Blackburn and Snyder had lifted Isaac Puckett to another.

  “North, beyond the canyon, and then east,” Dallas directed.

  When Faro stopped firing from the east rim, he could hear shouted directions from the renegades below, as they attempted to organize pursuit. Quickly he lighted the fuse to the dynamite, pausing long enough to be sure it wouldn’t sputter out. On the opposite rim, Shanghai had lighted his fuse, and satisfied that it wouldn’t burn out, saddled his horse and rode north. Well beyond the head of the canyon, Shanghai and Faro came together.

  “What about Tarno and Collins?” Dallas asked. “Have you seen them?”

  “They’re ahead of us,” said Faro. “Collins was hit, and Tarno had to go down after him.”

  “We still could have pulled ours off mighty slick,” Shanghai said, “if them damn outlaws hadn’t made a run for the ropes the sentries had been usin’. I couldn’t see much from my position on the rim. How many do you reckon escaped?”

  “All except one, I think,” said Faro.

  They were far enough away to escape the effects of the blast, and they reined up, listening. The ground began to tremble before they heard the first thunder of the coming explosion.

  “My God,” Dallas said, “It’s gonna be somethin’.”

  In the canyon, Dog Face cursed everything and everybody. Even with only the dim starlight, some of the Utes had caught up their horses and were galloping down the canyon toward the shallow end.

  “Hell,” said Sangre, “they ain’t gonna find nobody in the dark.”

  Both charges of dynamite let go at almost the same instant. The rock and earth loosed by the blast had a rippling effect, like waves, and the initial explosion multiplied itself many times. Horses screamed and men were flung like leaves before a mighty wind. There was an echo that lingered, and then, but for the cries of the injured, silence.

  * * *

  As the distant thunder died away, Faro and Shanghai rode eastward, where they soon caught up to their companions, all of whom were riding double. Tarno and Collins rode one horse, Dallas and Snyder a second, with Blackburn and Puckett riding the third.

  “I saw Collins go down,” Faro said. “How bad?”

  “Shoulder,” said Collins. “After what Tarno did, you won’t hear me complain.”

  “It was gettin’ almighty busy down there, Tarno,” Shanghai said.

  “Busier than you’ll ever believe,” said Tarno. “There was a pair of slugs that almost had my name on ’em. I got burns on my hide to prove it.”

  “What about Puckett, the gent that was wounded?” Faro asked.

  “Not in bad shape, for the shape I’m in,” said a voice. “I’m Isaac Puckett, and I never seen anything like what you fellers done tonight.”

  “Neither have I,” said another voice. “I’m Felix Blackburn. I reckon none of us ever expected to see Levi again, and when he showed up with hombres like you, it was nothing less than a miracle.”

  “I’m glad you gents feel that way,” Collins said. “I promised the four of them half the claim to get them to come with me.”

  “A fourth of the claim,” said Faro.

  “No,” Collins said, “half.”

  “Levi,” said Blackburn, “after tonight, I’m not sure that’s enough. I’d have gladly give it all to them, just to get out of that canyon alive.”

  “Damn right,” Snyder said, speaking for the first time. “Them varmints had a piece of the ore you took, Levi. We reckoned they’d murdered you, and once they forced us to lead ’em to the claim, they’d have killed all of us.”

  “I think we’d better let the ownership of the claim ride for a while,” said Faro. “That dynamite we set off will take care of some of those renegades, but I look for the rest of them to come after us.”

  “This man knows what he’s talking about,” Collins said. “Isaac, Felix, and Josh, this is Faro Duval. He and his teamster friends, Tarno Spangler, Shanghai Taylor, and Dallas Weaver are responsible for what happened tonight.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Collins,” said Faro. “We all played a part, and you held up your end mighty well.”

  “Thank you,” Collins said. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

  “With Levi and me wounded,” said Puckett, “how are we going to defend ourselves from that bunch, when they come after us?”

  “We’re goin’ to leave the wagons where they are for the time bein’,” Faro said. “They’ll be a while, pickin’ up the pieces. By first light tomorrow, I aim to be at the head of that canyon. We need to know how many of the outfi
t survived, and how many may be comin’ after us.”

  “It’s possible that those Utes who survived the blast won’t be all that interested in comin’ after us,” said Tarno. “I’m half-Comanche, myself, and while I’m not superstitious, most Indians are. Convince them their medicine’s bad, and they’ll back off.”

  “That’s a proven fact,” Faro agreed. “If enough of them died in that canyon, then I’ll not be surprised if the rest of them haven’t lit a shuck out of there by morning.”

  “That would be an added blessing,” said Felix Blackburn. “We left our horses, saddles, and weapons down there. Maybe we can recover them.”

  “Maybe,” Faro said. “We’ll have to wait and see what the circumstances are when we ride back there tomorrow.”

  “You ain’t goin’ alone,” said Tarno. “I’m goin’ with you.”

  “That means I’m stuck with that damn gambler and his pair of whores again,” Dallas said.

  “What?” Blackburn and Snyder asked, in a single voice.

  “That’s Hal Durham and a pair of females—Mamie and Odessa McCutcheon—from Texas,” said Faro. “Once we reach camp and tend his wound, Collins can tell you all about them.”

  “Who were those men who climbed the sentry ropes and escaped?” Blackburn asked. “They were the ones who first got the attention of the renegades, and were the cause of them seeing Levi coming down the canyon wall to get us.”

  “We’re pretty sure the five of them are outlaws who had been trailing us,” said Faro. “One of them got his hands on a piece of the gold ore Levi showed us, and then they had the misfortune to get themselves captured by those renegades. I’m pretty sure four of them escaped, and I reckon somewhere along the way, we’ll have to face up to them.”

  “What of those white renegades?” Dallas asked.

  “There were three,” said Blackburn. “Hueso and a dozen Utes gunned down another party of Utes that was after us. The other two—Perro Caro and Sangre—seemed to have more to say about the order of things, but Dog Face seemed to have the final say.”

  Once they could see the distant bulk of the wagons in the starlight, Faro reined up and the others reined beside and behind him.

  “Hello the camp,” Faro said softly. “Faro Duval here.”

  “Durham,” said a voice. “Come on.”

  Faro leading, they rode in and dismounted. To the surprise of them all, Durham and the McCutcheons were armed with their Winchesters.

  “Dallas,” Faro said, “dig a fire pit. With two wounded men, and Tarno having lead burns, we’ll need hot water. Mamie, you and Odessa bring some blankets for Collins and his pard, Isaac Puckett.”

  To his eternal surprise, the McCutcheons did as bidden. Faro went to one of the five wagons and returned with a jug of whiskey. This he passed to Collins, who in turn, handed it to Puckett.

  “Sorry you have to risk a fire because of Levi and me,” said Puckett.

  “With a fire pit,” Faro said, “it’s not that risky. The wind’s out of the west, so if the smoke reaches some Utes, it’ll be them to the east of us, and they already know we’re here.”

  “Since we’ll have a fire anyway,” said Mamie, “what about food?”

  “If it won’t be too much trouble,” Blackburn said. “Isaac, Josh, and me ain’t had a bite of anything but jerked beef in days.”

  “We’ll cook up somethin’,” said Mamie.

  “Put on enough coffee for all of us,” Faro said.

  After the rescued trio had been fed and everybody had coffee, Puckett and Collins were soon asleep, aided by pulls from the whiskey jug.

  “Faro,” Dallas said, “since you and Tarno aim to ride back to that renegade camp by first light, both of you grab your blankets and get what sleep you can. The rest of us will keep watch.”

  “Supply us some weapons and ammunition,” said Blackburn, “and Josh and me will do our part.”

  “Yeah,” Snyder said. “After what we been through, I don’t never want to take any chances.”

  The night wore on, and an hour before first light, Faro and Tarno were up, saddling their horses.

  “Like I said last night,” said Faro, “since we have two wounded men, and we have no idea what those renegades will do, we’ll keep camp here for a while. Tarno and me will eat when we return. Dallas, keep everybody armed and ready.”

  “Sí,” Dallas said.

  Faro and Tarno rode out, and there was no conversation. Dawn being near, the wind had died, and the stars seemed to be receding into that unknown universe where they spent their daylight hours. Sounding lonesome and far away, there came the quavering cry of a wolf.

  “The varmints may be cleanin’ up what’s left after the explosions,” Tarno said.

  “If they are, it could be good news for us,” said Faro. “Wolves won’t come after the dead, if there’s anybody else around. This bein’ summer, game shouldn’t be scarce.”

  They rode their horses to within a few hundred yards of the head of the canyon, reaching it just as the first gray fingers of dawn touched the eastern horizon. Unsure as to just what they could expect, they climbed the stone abutment until they could see above the time-worn gap through which the water flowed. Rock and dirt had blocked the canyon two-thirds of the way down, and water had begun backing up. There were the mangled bodies of more than thirty horses, and a dozen wolves were feasting on the carcasses.

  “There’s only one dead man down there,” Tarno said, “and from where he lies, I’d say he’s the outlaw that was shot tryin’ to escape.”

  “Those three white renegades escaped the blast,” said Faro. “I was afraid of that. Now we’ll have them stalking us again.”

  “They won’t have as many Utes with ’em,” Tarno said. “They took their dead away, but every horse carcass has the look of an Indian pony. I’d bet there was a Ute died with every horse.”

  “You’re likely right,” said Faro. “We made some powerful medicine, and it’s possible the Utes who survived the blast will shy away from us.”

  “I was expecting those walls to collapse and block the canyon,” Tarno said, “and since they didn’t, that stream will soon make itself another bed. It also should have provided us with some muddy footprints and hoofprints of those who escaped. You reckon it’s safe for us to ride down to the shallow end of the canyon and look around?”

  “I think we’ll risk it,” said Faro. “I have a feeling those surviving Utes left here in a hurry, and without them, the white renegades had no reason to stay. There’s a chance we might find some live horses, and those three miners could use them.”

  * * *

  Twenty miles west of the devastated canyon, Perro Cara and the remnants of his band had camped near a creek. Only fifteen Utes remained, and they had distanced themselves from the three white renegades.

  “Damn savages,” said Sangre. “They look at us like we was to blame for all that hell that busted loose last night.”

  “Somebody was,” Hueso said. “We set there on our hunkers and let that bunch of mule whackers blast the canyon rims down on us. Not only that, they snatched away the three hombres that could of led us to that gold claim.”

  “Don’t forget Slade and his bunch,” said Dog Face sarcastically. “All but one of them escaped, and they’ll be after the gold, too.”

  “I ain’t forgettin’ them,” Hueso said, “and I ain’t forgettin’ it was you that blowed a pile of money—money that was part ours—armin’ them Utes with Winchesters. Near fifty of the varmints has rode off and left us, takin’ the guns with ’em. What do you aim to do about that?”

  “Gut-shoot you, by God, if you say another word,” said Dog Face with a snarl.

  “Oh, hell,” Sangre said, “what’s done is done. It wasn’t a bad idea, havin’ all them Utes sidin’ us. How was we to know they’d get spooked and light out? Instead of chawin’ on one another, we’d ought to be decidin’ what we’re gonna do now.”

  “Sangre’s right,” said Dog Face. “We got
to figger a way to get our hands on that gold claim. We salvaged most of our supplies, and I’ll talk to Quintado. If he can convince the rest of them Utes to stick with us, we’ll manage.”

  “We still don’t know where the gold claim is,” Hueso said.

  “So we’re back to our original plan,” said Dog Face. “We’ll foller them wagons.”

  “They know we’re after ’em, an they know why,” Hueso said. “After what they done last night, you think they ain’t gonna be ready for us?”

  “I ain’t expectin’ it to be easy,” said Dog Face. “Damn it, anytime you don’t like the way the stick floats, then mount up and ride.”

  Hueso laughed. “I’ll stick around. But I’m warnin’ you, amigo. I don’t aim to squat ever’ time you holler froggy, and I don’t aim to swaller ever’ damn-fool idea that wanders through your head.”

  The two men glared at each other, and Sangre’s little pig eyes glittered. There might not be a three-way split, after all….

  * * *

  Intent only on escape, Slade, Hindes, Withers, and Kritzer vanished into the night, and so were far enough from the canyon that they weren’t affected by the explosion. They hunkered in the shadows a mile to the west, catching their breath.

  “Damn,” Hindes said, “no horse, no gun, no grub.”

  “It ain’t been that long,” said Kritzer, “that you’d of been satisfied just to get out of there with your hide in one piece. Peeler wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Question is,” Withers said, “what are we gonna do now?”

  “I can’t speak for nobody else,” said Slade, “but I ain’t givin’ up on that gold claim.”

  Hindes laughed. “Slade, you’d try to sneak through the pearly gates after you’d done had your ticket punched for hell.”

  It rubbed Slade the wrong way. His left foot shot out and his boot heel caught Hindes under the chin, slamming the back of his head into the trunk of a tree. Hindes slumped forward and didn’t move. Kritzer took Hindes’s wrist and then reached for the big artery in his neck.