The Devil's Staircase

by Randy D. Smith

  By midday they had covered twenty miles of trail, finding the previous night’s encampment. All the sign indicated that there were at least twenty men in the force. Black Jack was impressed with one of Segundo’s vaqueros a short stocky half-blood Mapache called Rigundo. Not since he had ridden with Flacco, Coffee Hays’ Lipan scout had he seen a man so trail wise.

  Deciding that the trail was too hot to turn back, the men decided to try to close in and hit them that night. Every indication of their trail convinced Ransom and Segundo that the band was shadowing the caravan and probably trying to get ahead to stage an ambush. Two vaqueros were sent back to intercept the caravan and report to Ortiz.

  They found the riders late in the afternoon working down a steep arroyo, keeping a leisurely pace on the far side of the ridge. Black Jack elected to halt his force and wait for darkness before moving in for the kill. He ordered the Mexicans to pull the loads of their carbines and reload with shot. A running fight from horseback in such treacherous rocky and wooded terrain could spell an unacceptable loss of horseflesh. Better to work in on foot and take them in the night at close range.

  The vaqueros relaxed smoking their Mexican cigarettes while Ransom and Segundo watched from the ridge. Rigundo moved ahead on foot to locate the campsite. It was after dark when he returned. The riders had camped at the base of the arroyo next to a shallow creek. Getting down the arroyo without being discovered would be impossible with the horses. They would have to close the distance on foot. The advantage was that the riders had chosen a campsite that was closed in by rocky hills and heavy timber. The only way out in the dark on horseback was to funnel down the creek channel. Rigundo felt that if they could surprise the riders it would be a duck shoot, especially if men were waiting down the channel.

  Ransom decided to split his force. Rigundo would lead Segundo and three vaqueros over the rock face down stream to set up an ambush. Ransom would take two men down the arroyo to hit the camp and cause a panic. Two vaqueros would remain behind to guard the horses.

  Segundo’s men moved out early. Ransom wanted them in place before he hit the camp and they needed plenty of time to work down the rock face in the dark. The quarter moon gave out little light and Ransom’s group had to move slowly down the arroyo to remain as quiet as possible. Several hundred yards down the slope, they were able to make out the dim glow of the campfire. It seemed much further than Rigundo had made out but distances were deceiving in the dark. The camp was quiet, too quiet for at least twenty men. As they closed the distance, however, muffled conversation and the stirrings of picketed horses could be made out. As they closed the distance, Ransom wanted to crawl but the cactus was too thick.

  Ransom and his two vaqueros stopped at the edge of the camp clearing. The riders were lounging and smoking around the campfire with the unsaddled horses picketed on the upstream side.

  Ransom pulled his vaqueros close and spoke softly. "We’ve had a piece of luck, amigos. They are going to have to ride by the fire to get out." He handed his carbine to the man on his right. "Work your way to the horses and position yourself to shoot as they run for the horses." He turned to the man on his left. "Remain here and shoot them as they try to ride past the fire."

  "And what of you, Diablo?" the man on the right asked.

  Ransom was surprised that the vaquero used the informal name given him by the Mexicans. He adjusted the percussion belt pistols and drew his Colts from their holsters. "I’m going to walk right in and shoot. I’ll kill until my guns are empty and drop back into the darkness to reload. I figure by that time there will be so much confusion they won’t know what or how many are hitting them."

  The Mexican nodded and moved out.

  Ransom waited as the Mexican worked toward the horses. Suddenly there was a cry of alarm and a shot echoed through the live oaks. "Sentry! He saw our man. It’s now or never!" Ransom shouted as he stood, cocked his revolvers and walked toward the fire.

  The first two men he killed were still in their blankets and reaching for their carbines. The third man was squatting by the fire and was shot in the chest as he stood. The fourth man was crawling for safety on his hands and knees when Ransom sent a ball through the back of his head. The fifth man fired his pistol wildly as others ran past him toward the horses. Ransom shot him twice in the chest, one round from each revolver. Ransom missed his sixth shot at a running man but got the man behind him with his seventh. A large Mexican rushed him with an ax and it took three rounds to bring him down. He fell into the fire face down as Ransom holstered his Colts, drew his single shots and backed toward the darkness. No shots were coming from the picket line.

  The first rider out received a full shot blast from the left vaquero as he rode by the fire sending him over the back of his mount. The second rider sent a pistol bullet in the direction of the vaquero just before Ransom blew him out of the saddle with his right pistol. The next rider threw a shot at Ransom but the vaquero nailed him with his pistol.

  A wave of riderless and mounted horses swept past the fire as the band members rushed an escape. A few threw off shots but most clung close to their mounts and rode for their lives.

  Ransom squatted behind a live oak and placed his remaining loaded pistol on the ground before him. He drew his right Colt slipped the wedge and barrel, and drew a loaded cylinder from his shooting bag. He pulled the empty cylinder and replaced it. As he slipped the barrel on the shaft and thumbed in the wedge, he realized that the shooting was over. He decided to replace the cylinder in his second Colt as well. As he finished reloading his second Colt, he heard a mass of gunfire erupt down stream. The retreating riders had reached Segundo’s location.

  "Have you reloaded?" Ransom called to the vaquero on the left.

  "Si, my guns are ready," he answered.

  "Well, hold fast. Some of them may turn back this way and we don’t want to be caught in the firelight. Let them ride past and kill them as they are shown by the fire."

  "Si, patron, where is Paco?"

  "I never heard him shoot. I’m afraid the sentry got him."

  Four riderless, unsaddled horses burst across the campsite but no riders followed. The shooting had ended downstream so Ransom figured it was pretty much over. "Let’s check out this camp," he said as he finished reloading his percussion pistol and slipped it into his belt.

  Nine bodies littered the camp. Ransom and his vaquero worked through them watching for any movement. "We shot too well, compadre," Ransom said. "We’ve got no one to question."

  The vaquero found Paco sprawled across a mass of cactus several yards of the picket line. A full spread of buckshot riddled his chest and face. Neither of his guns had been fired.

  "Hola," a voice called from the darkness. "We are coming in. Do not shoot."

  "Come ahead," Ransom answered.

  Segundo and his men stepped into the firelight.

  "Did you get any of them?" Ransom asked.

  "One for sure and a horse. We may have wounded some others. It was too dark to see," Segundo answered.

  Black Jack nodded. "We did all right. That would make ten killed for sure. We lost a man here."

  "Que este?" Segundo asked.

  "Paco," the vaquero answered.

  "Paco. That is too bad. He was a good man."

  "Gather up their guns and supplies. We don’t want to leave anything that they can use." Black Jack ordered. He scanned the bodies littered through the campsite. "We’ve hurt them bad. I doubt that they’ll give us any trouble for now, if ever. It was a good night’s work."

  As Black Jack walked away the vaquero stepped to Segundo’s side. "He killed almost all of them himself. He truly is a devil without mercy."

  Segundo nodded. "Si, amigo, take heart. This time the devil is on our side."

  Chapter 6

  By dawn they were fording the Colorado. They caught up with the caravan two hours later. Ortiz was pleased with the report and went to the carriage to inform Dona Elaina. Black Jack joined his Rangers but Patch was not wi
th them.

  "Did Patch return yesterday?" Ransom asked Tad Cole.

  "He rode in late last night and left alone before sunrise."

  "I didn’t want him riding out alone. He knew that."

  "Said the Mexicans were slowing him down. He said he wanted to make another sweep of some canyons ahead."

  "How did it go here?"

  "Nice and peaceful. What about you?"

  "We hurt them pretty bad. I figure we killed at least half of them."

  "Then we should be all right."

  Ransom shook his head and cut his eyes to the trail ahead. "I don’t know. That bunch had a plan or they had raided along this trail before. We were lucky the boy spotted them. Luckier still that we were able to take them by surprise."

  Segundo brought his palomino alongside Black Jack. "Don Antonio would like a word with you."

  Black Jack nodded and spurred his horse to Ortiz.

  "Senora Valverde sends you her congratulations. She was pleased with your courage. She asks if you will join her for dinner tonight at her tent."

  Black Jack eyed Ortiz with suspicion. "Is that usual?"

  Ortiz smiled knowingly. "Senora Valverde is a woman of great courage. I know of no one like her. She wants to talk to you personally. What the senora wants, she gets."

  "I don’t know. What does she want to talk to me for?"

  "To show her appreciation for what you did."

  "I don’t know. I don’t think she’d be very comfortable around me."

  "I’m sure she will enjoy your company."

  "Yeah?"

  "Si, she requested this herself."

  "Is there anything special I should do?"

  "You might wash your face, comb your hair and put on a clean shirt if you have one. Other than that, you can come as your are. We will eat at sundown."

  "You’ll be there?"

  "Oh, yes. Even the senora would not break that convention."

  "Tell her that I will accept her invitation, but I don’t have no clean shirt."

  "Perhaps I can loan you one."

  Jack nodded and rode on without comment.

  * * * *

  Tanto Corrello sat by the bank of the stream and busied himself dressing the pellet wound in his thigh. When he heard Patch Wilkes’s horse he lifted the pistol by his side.

  "Careful, it’s me. What happened?"

  Corrello lowered the pistol to the ground and softly cursed. "We got ambushed near Nogales Canyon. I figure it was your boy, Black Jack."

  "How bad did they hurt you?" Patch asked as he dismounted.

  "Bad. We lost eleven men. Three more are wounded. Why didn’t you warn us?"

  "I told you to watch your step. I told you that Ransom was a bad hombre. He had two of Valverde’s vaqueros riding with me and I couldn’t get away. I don’t know that I could have warned you even if I had been alone."

  "I will kill him with my bare hands."

  Patch grinned and shook his head. "Good luck. That’s been tried before."

  "What now?"

  "There ain’t much of nothing we can do between here and San Angelo Mission. I don’t like the idea but if we’re going to take them now we’re going to need a large force. Are you on speaking terms with Yellow Wolf?"

  "If I can find him. He is difficult to trust."

  "We’re going to need his Comanches to take this bunch. A lot of them. What do you think it will take to get him to help us?"

  "Guns. Lots of them. He won’t be satisfied with less."

  "I figured as much." Patch pulled a money belt from under his shirt. "Go to Andre Minou on the Rio Hondo. Get at least fifty good rifles."

  "Whew, that’s going to take a bunch of money. You that sure this is worth it?"

  "There’s eight hundred dollars in that belt. Spend it all if you have to. Get good guns. I want to impress Yellow Wolf. Yes, I’m sure this is a drop in the bucket to what she is carrying on them pack mules."

  "Eight hundred dollars will buy a lot of men and they’re already armed."

  "It would take too long to find them. No, I know that Minou has at least that many good rifles and he’s on the way. If we’re going to get that money, we’re going to have to hit them hard. These boys are fighters and it will take a large force to overrun them."

  "When will we meet again?"

  "San Angelo. I won’t be able to get away until then. Jack will be angry with me for riding out alone. I can get by with it once but not anymore without raising suspicion. Meet me at the corrals in San Angelo, or leave a message with Gonzales, the owner. I can trust him."

  "What if I can’t get Yellow Wolf to do this?"

  "Then we sell the rifles and forget the whole thing. I’ll have to try something else. We should be in San Angelo in a week. You’ve got a lot to do. You think you can manage it with that hole in your butt?"

  Tanto’s mouth twisted wickedly. "I’ll get it done. I want that damned Ranger dead after what he did. Nobody guns down half my outfit and lives to brag about it."

  "What you do with Black Jack Ransom is your business. You just make sure those Comanches know that the one-eyed guy is on their side."

  * * * *

  Dona Elaina Valverde was dressed in black lace sitting at a table with white tablecloth and solid silver candlesticks when Ortiz escorted Ransom to the table. She nodded and smiled regally when Jack awkwardly removed his hat and gave a half-hearted bow. She motioned his place at the table. "Thank you for coming, Capitan Ransom. Please sit."

  Black Jack nodded and nervously twisted the brim of his sombrero.

  "Please, Capitan?" Ortiz said politely, again showing his place. "Sit at the table, por favor."

  Ransom took his seat and placed his sombrero on the ground.

  Ortiz sat across the table from Ransom with Dona Elaina at the head. "Perhaps some wine, Capitan?"

  Ransom nodded without looking up from his empty plate; his hands folded in his lap.

  Ortiz gave Dona Elaina a disgruntled look. She raised her eyebrows and fanned herself slowly.

  "Perhaps you would like to tell the senora of your adventure. Segundo stated that you are quite an hombre."

  Black Jack nodded and tried to adjust himself into a comfortable position in the chair.

  Ortiz cast another frustrated look at Dona Elaina.

  One of the servant girls poured red wine into their glasses. Jack watched his glass fill as she poured it.

  "Perhaps a drink?" Ortiz asked.

  "Yeah, I could use one," Jack answered nervously before downing the entire contents in one swig. "Thanks, that hit the spot."

  "Perhaps another?"

  Jack nodded and drained another glass as soon as it was poured.

  "Perhaps one more?"

  "You bet."

  "Perhaps a toast?"

  "Oh, no. I’m not real good at that sort of thing."

  "I can make the toast if you would like."

  "You bet." Jack allowed his eyes to cut to her face for a reaction. She looked as though she had been turned to stone just after seeing a skunk.

  Ortiz raised his glass. "To our partnership."

  They drank, Jack downing another glass.

  Dona Elaina signaled that they should be served. A bowl of soup was carefully placed in front of each.

  Jack waited uncomfortably until the Spaniards chose a spoon. He followed their lead.

  "We should reach San Angelo Mission within the week," Ortiz stated.

  Jack nodded and slurped a spoonful. "If we’re lucky."

  "Is there a problem?" Ortiz asked.

  "I don’t like the look of things. Them bandits had been tipped off. They were planning a raid for sure."

  "Segundo indicated that you thought that they had been hurt badly enough that they wouldn’t try anything else."

  "Not if they go to the Comanches."

  "How so?"

  "Those gents had Comanchero written all over them. If they are Comancheros, we can probably expect a visit from Yellow Wolf or som
e Comanche buck like him."

  "What can we do?" Ortiz asked, concerned.

  "Get rid of these damn wagons and burros. Travel light and make time. From San Angelo to the Rio Grande it will be a race. We can’t win that race if we’re bogged down with women, donkeys and wagons."

  The Spaniards were silent trying not to act offended.

  Jack roughly dropped his spoon on the table. "We can deliver the ransom without the women. We’ll get the girl back and make a dash back to San Angelo. The women would be better off waiting at the ranch."

  "That is not possible, Capitan," Dona Elaina stated firmly. "I will travel with the ransom."

  "Can you ride a horse?" Jack blurted.

  "I will not ride a horse."

  "Then, chances are you’ll die in the wagon. Our only good chance was to get to the Rio without attracting attention. Well, by God, woman, we’ve been noticed. If you think you can outrun a Comanche through the Glass Mountains in that thing you’re in for a damned unpleasant surprise."

  "Perhaps more vaqueros. A larger force might be able to make it through."

  "That’s up to you. A force twice this big might be able to fend off a raid. The other choice is to allow me and my Rangers to try it with just a few of your best vaqueros. We can move fast by night. Hold up during the day; hit them first if we have to, before they have a chance to hit us. We’re covering ten to fifteen miles a day. With a small force of good riders I can make fifty."

  "That is not acceptable," she said firmly. "President Houston said that you would cooperate."

  "Houston ain’t here. He’d know better if he was."

  "I must insist that we go by the plan," she said.

  Jack nodded. "Then we go by the plan; probably straight to hell." He rose from the table and put on his sombrero. "Thanks for the soup. It was good." He left quickly.

  Ortiz sat in silence. Dona Elaina fanned herself faster, trying to control her temper. She ordered the next course with a brisk wave of her hand.

  * * * *

  Patch Wilkes drew up his mount and dismounted at the picket line. Black Jack was waiting at the campfire.

  "How’d it go?" Black Jack asked.

  "Nothing. The trail seems clear to the fork."