The Santa Fe Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “I got the bleedin’ stopped,” Vic said. “I want her to stay here in our camp until she feels like bein’ up and about.”

  “Fine with me,” said Woody. “Have Jania and Laketa stay with her. You and me have to catch up to Gavin and the rest of the outfit.”

  Vic found Jania and Laketa. He expected an argument from their father, when he asked the girls to stay with Bonita, but Stubbs said nothing. Woody already had their horses saddled, and soon they were galloping away to the south.

  Miles ahead, Gavin and his five companions reached the place where the Comanches had staged the ambush. Not surprisingly, the bodies of the dead had been taken away.

  “Well, that cost ’em a little time,” Nip Kelly said.

  “But not nearly enough,” said Gavin. “When we pick up their trail again, maybe we’ll have some better idea as to how many of ’em we’re up against.”

  “I’d say there’s a substantial war party,” Rusty observed. “We’ve accounted for four who aimed to ambush us, and seven more was gunned down when they attacked the camp. If they’ve gathered all the mules belongin’ to Pitkin and Stubbs, as well as the extra horses in our remuda, that’s more than thirty animals. They ain’t used to Indians, and if I’m any judge, they’ll be ornery as hell.”

  “All the better for us if they are,” said Gavin.

  “Maybe if they have enough trouble drivin’ the horses an’ mules, they won’t bother layin’ another ambush,” Whit Stubbs said hopefully.

  Ash Pryor laughed. “Don’t we wish? A Comanche never gets too busy for that.”

  “We oughta be seein’ Vic and Woody pretty soon,” said Nip.

  “Don’t count on it,” Gavin said. “Woody’s got something up his sleeve. We’ll just ride careful with our guns ready.”

  Woody and Vic had ridden southeast, following the Arkansas. Woody eventually reined up. Vic looked at him questioningly.

  “When we left their trail this mornin’, those Comanches was pretty well followin’ the Arkansas,” said Woody. “Can you think of any reason for ’em to change direction?”

  “No,” Vic replied. “The Arkansas runs clean through Indian Territory and it’s a ready source of water. If they’re bound for the Territory, why shouldn’t they follow the river?”

  “My thinkin’, exactly,” said Woody, “and don’t you reckon they’ll know Gavin and the rest of our outfit are trailin’ ’em?”

  “Damn right they’ll know,” Vic said. “Hell, they not only took the mules that’s needed for the wagons, they got every horse we owned, except the eight that was saddled. What are you leadin’ up to, amigo?”

  “Suppose we ride due south, stayin’ well to the west of the Arkansas?” said Woody. “While those Comanches are worryin’ with Gavin and his riders on their back-trail, we’ll get ahead of them and do a little bushwhacking of our own.”

  Vic laughed. “Pard, you’re one to ride the river with. But won’t Gavin be sendin’ two advance riders—or maybe goin’ himself—to look for an ambush?”

  “No,” said Woody, “because I told him not to. He’ll ride careful, his riders with their guns ready.”

  “Then let’s ride like hell,” Vic said. “We got to head this bunch off before dark.”

  In the Pitkin camp, Gladstone Pitkin stood on the bank of the river, looking anxiously toward the southeast. While his faith in his outfit hadn’t wavered, he feared the time they had lost returning to camp might have given the Comanches enough of an edge to escape with the horses and mules to Indian Territory.

  “How do you feel, Bonita?” Jania asked.

  “Sore,” said Bonita. “Where’s Vic?”

  “Him and Woody rode after the Comanches that took our mules,” Jania said. “Did you think he was going to stay here with you, while his friends fought Indians?”

  “I thought he might,” said Bonita, “since the two of you stripped me naked. Why, for God’s sake? The wound is in my side.”

  Laketa laughed. “You were bloody to your knees. How could we know you hadn’t been wounded somewhere down there? You never said anything.”

  Bonita blushed furiously.

  “Tell me what Woody did while I was unconscious,” Nell begged. “How did he remove the arrow from my leg?”

  “He drove it on through with the butt of his pistol,” said Naomi. “I suppose it’s a terrible thing to say, but I envied you.”

  “My God,” Nell said. “Why?”

  “There was pain and fear in his eyes,” said Naomi. “Each time he struck the shaft of that arrow, he was hurting for you. Dear God, I wish I could be sure that Gavin feels all that strongly about me.”

  Nell laughed. “He was overwhelmed, seeing me stark naked.”

  “You little fool,” Naomi said scornfully. She climbed over the wagon’s tailgate and walked away.

  “We’ve come a good twenty miles,” said Vic, when they reined up to rest the horses.

  “Still not far enough,” Woody said. “They got more than six hours on us.”

  “Another ten miles, then,” said Vic.

  “At least that,” Woody agreed. “Let’s ride.”

  Half a dozen miles to the northwest, on the bank of the Arkansas, Gavin and his five riders were resting their mounts.

  “If we don’t end this chase ’fore sundown,” said Nip, “we’ll lose ’em. This country’s so flat, they can ride all night, ambushin’ us anytime they take a notion.”

  “Likely that’s what they have in mind,” Gavin said. “If they can hold out until after dark, they can wait until we’re right on top of ’em, without bein’ seen.”

  “From their tracks,” said Wiley, “they ain’t more’n a dozen. Why don’t we git as near as we kin, and rush the varmints?”

  “No,” Gavin said. “There’s a better, safer way. We’ll get within sight of them, if we can, and we’ll attack when the time comes. You’ll know when.”

  They rode on, and when the sun wasn’t more than two hours high, they could see the horses and mules topping a distant rise.

  “Thirteen riders pushin’ ’em,” said Nip. “An unlucky number.”

  “Unlucky for them,” Gavin said. “They’re just tryin’ to stay ahead of us until dark. We’ll keep them in sight for a while.”

  Woody and Vic rode eastward until they reached the Arkansas.

  “No tracks,” said Woody. “We’re ahead of them.”

  “You aim for us to ride into ’em, headlong?” Vie asked.

  “No,” said Woody. “We can’t be that far ahead. There’s no real cover, so we’ll picket our horses on this side of that ridge over yonder. When the horses and mules cross that ridge, we’ll cut loose, stampedin’ ’em right back into those Comanches. By now, Gavin and the rest of the outfit should be close enough to attack.”

  “Most of ’em will cut and run,” Vic said, “but they can’t take the horses and mules with ’em.”

  “Don’t sell Gavin and the outfit short,” said Woody. “There’ll be some confusion, and it should buy them enough time to get within range before the Comanches can run for it. They’ve already lost eleven men. If we can account for half of what’s left, they won’t come after us again.”

  “It’ll be just a hell of a lot more dangerous for us,” Vic said, “but we’d better picket our horses another mile downriver and hoof it back to here. A nickerin’ horse—be it one of ours, or one of the bunch the Comanches are drivin’—could warn the varmints. Then they could stampede the horses and mules in our direction, catchin’ us afoot and with six of ’em to one of us.”

  “I never pass up good advice,” said Woody, “and I reckon you’re a mite ahead of my thinkin’. You’re right. We’ll picket our horses downriver far enough so they don’t give us away. Come on.”

  Picketing the horses, Vic and Woody hadn’t been in their former positions more than a few minutes when the first of the horses and mules topped the ridge. Both men ran forward, firing their Winchesters. Horses nickered, mules brayed, and the enti
re lot of them stampeded back the way they had come. With the high banks of the Arkansas to their right, the only logical path of escape was to the south, and the Comanches broke for it. But with the first rattle of gunfire, Gavin and his riders kicked their mounts into a fast gallop, bringing them within range of the fleeing Comanches.

  “Cut them down,” Gavin shouted.

  10

  Nine of the surprised Comanches escaped to the south. Gavin and his riders had all the horses and mules gathered by the time Woody and Vic got to their picketed horses and rode back to meet their comrades.

  “Woody,” said Gavin, “you and Vic done that just right. It was as slick a piece of work as I ever seen. I reckon them nine that escaped will be thinkin’ of us as bad medicine from now on.”

  “It all depended on you gents bein’ right behind ’em,” Woody said, “and we’re obliged to you for bein’ there. Are all the horses and mules accounted for?”

  “Every last one,” said Gavin.

  “If we move fast, we can get them back to camp before dark,” Woody said. “We’ll go after the herd tomorrow.”

  “They ain’t scattered all that much,” said Nip. “There’s pretty good graze and plenty of water. You got to drive a longhorn away from that.”

  They drove the horses and mules hard, reaching camp just minutes before dark. Gladstone Pitkin shouted and waved his hat, and even Levi Stubbs seemed pleased.

  “Supper be ready,” Gonzales said.

  “We’ll unsaddle our horses and eat,” said Woody. “First and second watches as usual. There shouldn’t be any more Indian trouble, but all of you keep your guns handy and don’t let your guard down for a second.”

  “You want Whit an’ me to stand watch with you?” Wiley Stubbs asked.

  “You’re welcome to,” said Woody. “One of you on each watch. Leave your mules with our mules and horse remuda. Might as well join us for supper too.”

  Woody caught Gladstone Pitkin’s eye, but the Englishman still seemed elated over the return of the horses and mules. While everybody else got in line for supper, Woody and Vic had more important things in mind. Woody headed for the Pitkin wagon, while Vic made a similar move toward the Stubbs wagon. Bonita still lay under the wagon, but had been covered with blankets. Obviously she slept, but Jania and Laketa were there.

  “How is she?” Vic asked.

  “Feverish,” said Jania. “Gonzales brought us a bottle of whiskey, and we’ve been forcing her to swallow it.”

  “Good,” Vic said. “I’m on the second watch, and I’ll be lookin’ in on her, if you and Laketa need to get some sleep.”

  “We’ve dozed some during the day,” said Laketa. “We’ll sit up with her. But please do come around when you can. When she’s awake, she’s asking for you.”

  “I’ll be around as often as I can,” Vic said, pleased.

  Woody found Naomi sitting on the wagon’s lowered tailgate. Anticipating his question, she answered it before he could say a word.

  “She has a temperature. I’ve been giving her whiskey, and she’s been giving me hell. She’s throwing off the blankets faster than I can cover her.”

  “I’m on watch until midnight,” Woody said. “I’ll watch her the rest of the night, while you sleep.”

  “I know how you feel,” said Naomi, “but you’ve had a long day. I’ll sit up with her, and you can look in on her as often as you like.”

  “I’m obliged,” Woody said.

  It was still light enough for him to see her eyes, and she beheld him with a softness he had never noticed before. He could hear Nell’s ragged breathing, and he looked into the wagon. She had flung the blankets aside, and he could see where her wound had bled into the white bandage. He swallowed hard and was about to turn away, when Naomi put her hand on his arm.

  “Woody…” her voice broke and trailed off.

  “Yes?” said Woody.

  “Sometimes…we have hard words, but she’s my sister, and I…I care. I watched your eyes while you were…working…over her. Thank you, Woody, for…earing…”

  A lump rose in Woody’s throat and he found himself at a loss for words. He then did what seemed the most natural thing in the world. He kissed Naomi on the cheek and went to supper…

  Two hours into the first watch, Woody took the time to ask about Bonita Stubbs.

  “She’s feverish,” Laketa said. “Gonzales brought us a bottle of whiskey, and we’ve had a terrible time getting it down her.”

  “I know it’s vile stuff,” said Woody, “but we have nothing else to break that fever.”

  “Vic,” said a sleepy voice from beneath the wagon, “Vic.”

  “She’s out of her head,” Laketa said, embarrassed.

  “Maybe not as much as you think,” said Woody, touched by the urgency in Bonita’s voice. “Vic’s on the second watch, startin’ at midnight, so you’ll be seein’ him. Maybe her fever will be broken by then. Keep givin’ her the whiskey, and keep the blankets on her.”

  “We will,” Laketa said, “and thank you.”

  Woody returned to his position on the first watch, more impressed than ever by the three Stubbs girls. He even sympathized with Whit and Wiley. They weren’t a bad lot, if one overlooked Levi Stubbs for the cantankerous old varmint he was.

  “Almighty quiet tonight,” said Gavin.

  “Yeah,” Nip said. “Makes you wonder why.”

  “Cut it out,” said Woody. “We spent the whole damn day hunting, chasing, and shooting Comanches. Tomorrow, we have to round up the herd. We don’t have the time for anything else.”

  “I’m almighty glad of that,” Gavin said. “After a day like we just had, wrasslin’ cows is a Sunday-school picnic. How is Nell?”

  “Feverish,” said Woody. “Naomi’s with her, giving her whiskey.”

  “I reckon we can handle this watch, if you’d like to set with her a while,” Nip said.

  “I’m obliged, Nip,” said Woody, “but Naomi’s agreed to stay with her tonight. I’ll go look in on her again at the end of the watch, and I aim to spread my bedroll close by, so Naomi can wake me, if she needs to.”

  A few minutes before the end of the first watch, Woody wasn’t surprised to see Vic making his way to the Stubbs wagon.

  “She’s still feverish, Vic,” Jania said, “but she’s awake.”

  “I’ll talk to her, then,” said Vic.

  Bonita had thrown off the blankets to her waist, and removing his hat, Vic was able to hunker down beside her, beneath the wagon.

  “Querida,” Vic said, “you’re sweatin’ out a fever. You ought to stay under all them blankets. This night air won’t help.”

  “But I am so hot,” said Bonita. “Feel my face.”

  Vic did, and his heart leaped, for there was a dampness.

  “You’re beginnin’ to sweat, babe,” Vic said. “Your fever’s broke.”

  “No more whiskey?”

  Vic laughed. “No more whiskey, unless you need some for the hangover.”

  Forgetting Jania and Laketa, he kissed her and she returned it.

  “Tomorrow I can get up,” said Bonita.

  “Not so fast,” Vic said. “Tomorrow we have to round up the herd, and you’re going to lay right here and rest. Get up too soon, and that wound can bust loose and start to bleed some more. You want to do this all over again, whiskey and all?”

  “My God, no,” said Bonita.

  “Rest, then,” Vic said. “I’m on watch until dawn. Jania and Laketa will be with you, and I’ll be lookin’ in on you as often as I can.”

  At the end of his watch, Woody made his way to the Pitkin wagon. Naomi sat with her back to a wagon wheel, head bowed, asleep. Woody looked into the wagon, and Nell still lay there without the blankets. Trying not to disturb Naomi, Woody climbed into the wagon and knelt beside Nell. She seemed to be breathing more normally, and her face felt cool to his touch. Silently she took his hand in both of hers.

  “Your fever’s gone,” he said softly.


  “I know,” she replied. “I’ve been waiting for you. Where’s Naomi?”

  “Asleep,” said Woody. “She must be exhausted. Do you want me to fetch you a pot, a bucket, or…”

  She laughed, sensing his embarrassment.

  “It’s too late for that. Fortunately, the bottom of this wagon box has cracks in it, but it also has splinters, some of which are in my behind. When I raise up some, see if you can get one of those blankets under me.”

  Woody managed to get one of the blankets between her and the wooden floor of the wagon box. He tried to cover her with another of the blankets, but she wouldn’t have it.

  “I’ve sweated so much and feel so dirty, I’d like to jump in the river,” she said.

  “Don’t you dare,” said Woody. “Remember, you can’t swim.”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” she asked. “I swim like a fish, and so can Naomi.”

  “But you…” Woody’s voice trailed off.

  “Oh, that,” said Nell. “I’d forgotten about the river at Council Grove.”

  “Damn it,” Woody said, “you scared hell out of Gavin and me for nothing.”

  “Was it for nothing?” she whispered, still holding his hand in both of hers.

  Finally it all dawned on him, and he laughed.

  “I heard that,” said Naomi, from outside the wagon. “Nell, you promised.”

  “I suppose I did,” Nell replied. “But Woody won’t tell Gavin, will you, Woody?”

  “Hell, yes,” said Woody. “If he’s asleep, I’ll wake him. We both got snookered.”

  Naomi sighed. “I suppose there’s no help for it. It was a dishonest thing to do.”

  “Aw, hell,” Woody said, “if you want Gavin to know, tell him yourself. It’s generally the last draw that counts, and I reckon old Gavin come out as much a winner as I did. I’d say he’s waitin’ for me to say good night. Then he’ll be around to see how Nell’s feeling.”

  Nell laughed. “He’ll be around to see how Naomi’s feeling. When will I see you again, Woody?”

  “Tomorrow,” said Naomi. “He’s had a long day. He’ll be around before breakfast to pull the splinters out of your behind. Won’t you, Woody?”