“True,” Don said. “Does that suit you, Felton?”
“Yes,” said Felton. “I sure don’t aim to ride through Paiute and Ute country again.”
“If you and Felton are able to get back to Texas on a sailing ship,” Les Brown said, “will one of you take Eli’s kin his share of the money and tell them what happened to him?”
“I reckon,” said Don. “It’s the least we can do for his kin.”
“I hate to mention this,” Mike said, “but we owe for some of the horses and mules we got from friends and kin. We promised to pay when we sold the herd, and with the war goin’ on, they’re likely to be in need of the money.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” said Don. “Without their generosity, we never could have made the drive. All of you that’s owin’ for a horse or mule, write down who you owe, and how much. If I can get back to Texas by sailing ship, I’ll see that every debt is paid.”
“The rest of us ought to just pitch camp somewhere, until Don and Felton get back,” Charlie said. “Whatever we aim to do here in California, I’d feel more comfortable if we done it as an outfit.”
“Am I allowed to say something?” Rose asked.
“Yes,” said Don.
“Speaking for myself, I’d like for us all to stay together, at least until we can go back to Texas. I’ve been through a lot with Sarah, Ellie, Millie, Molly, Wendy and Bonita, and I’d surely miss them if we were all to go different ways.”
There were shouts of eager agreement from the rest of the women.
“If everybody agrees,” said Don, “we’ll remain an outfit as long as we’re in California.”
There were shouts from them all, including Dominique and Roberto.
“That’s settled then,” Don said. “Now we have only to reach Los Angeles.”
Ben and Curt Pickford had taken the most direct route to Los Angeles, straight across the Mojave desert.
“We’d best start lookin’ for a way to get our hands on some money,” said Curt. “We barely got enough to feed ourselves for a week.”
“That’s about how long it’ll take that trail herd to get here,” Ben said.
“So you still aim to go after Roussel for gunnin’ down Wiley.”
“More than that,” said Ben. “When that bunch sells their herd, they’ll have money. I’m of a mind to take some of it, and what better way than to bushwhack some of ’em, when they ain’t got the whole outfit behind ’em?”
“Startin’ with Roussel, I reckon.”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “Startin’ with Roussel, and I’ll do the shootin’.”
Just two hours behind the Pickfords, Griff and Quando reached Los Angeles. Quando had been out of his head with fever the morning after he had been wounded, and it had been difficult for Griff to keep him in the saddle. In fact, honoring Quando’s request, Griff had been forced to tie the outlaw belly-down over his saddle. Quando looked dead, and as they rode along the street, they received some curious stares. Griff knew the town well enough to find a doctor. The doctor—Otis Ballenger—watched Griff untie the rope and hoist Quando over his shoulder. He held the door open while Griff entered the office with his burden.
“We was waylaid by some outlaws,” said Griff, without being asked. “He’s had a fever for maybe four hours. I didn’t have nothin’ to doctor him.”
Ballenger pointed to the next room. Griff entered. Easing Quando from his shoulder, he placed the wounded outlaw on the bed.
“I’ll disinfect the wound and try to reduce the fever,” said Ballenger. “He’ll be here for a while, so unless you have nothing better to do, I don’t advise waiting.”
“I don’t aim to,” Griff said. “I’ll be back.”
At no time since leaving Santa Fe had the herd trailed so well. The second day after leaving the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, there was evidence of a storm brewing far to the west.
“Must be out over the ocean,” Red observed.
“I expect it is,” said Don. “We’ll keep the herd moving, and maybe we can have them bedded down for the night before it reaches us.”
Charlie, Les, and Felton were riding drag. There was little to do except to keep the ranks closed. Most of the land over which they traveled was grassed over, and there was almost no dust. All the women were in good spirits with their newly acquired clothing and saddles.
“I reckon you’re ridin’ a little easier,” said Les, as he trotted his horse beside Millie’s.
“I reckon I am,” Millie said. “Try straddling a horse for a month, with nothing between his backbone and your bare behind, and you’ll have more appreciation for your saddle.”
Les laughed. “You’re about to get your new duds and boots broke in proper. We’re in for some serious rain.”
“I don’t care,” said Millie. “I just hope there’s no thunder and lightning. I’m so tired of waiting while all of you beat the bushes looking for stampeded cows.”
“I reckon we’re as tired of it as you are,” Les said, “but we can do it another time or two if we must.”
They kept the herd moving. By early afternoon big gray clouds had already hidden the sun. The wind rose, but there was still no sign of thunder or lightning.
“We’ll bed ’em down early,” Don said, to the flank and swing riders. “I’d say we’re being spared the thunder and lightning, but there’ll be plenty of wind and rain. This bunch will be wantin’ to turn their backs to it, and there’s no use running ourselves ragged trying to change their minds.”
Water not being a problem, they bunched the herd near a stream. The storm held off long enough for the outfit to enjoy an early supper. When the storm struck, there was only wind-whipped rain.
“This is some surprising,” said Felton Juneau. “I was gettin’ the idea it never rains in this part of the world without thunder and lightning.”
“God knows we’ve had our share of it,” Bob Vines said.
There was no trouble with the longhorns. They grazed peacefully and might actually have enjoyed the rain. After about two hours, it slacked, finally ceasing altogether. When the clouds were swept away, the sun came out.
“Oh, look,” Sarah cried.
Toward the west, there were many rainbows, some of them overlapping. Slowly, the more distant ones going first, they faded.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” said Mike Horton.
“It takes water,” Felton Juneau said, “and there ain’t that much water in all of Texas.”
Wood was as plentiful as water and graze. Dominique and Roberto cut enough dry wood from the underside of fallen trees for a fire, and soon there was hot coffee. Within an hour, everybody’s clothing was dry, and the rain might never have been.
“Seems like a waste,” said Red. “We’re settin’ around drinking coffee, and there’s two more hours of daylight.”
“Hush your mouth,” Charlie said. “A Texan don’t hardly ever get to do this, and I aim to enjoy it while I can. It’ll be somethin’ I can tell my grandchildren.”
Red laughed. “I didn’t know about them. Have you told Wendy?”
“Has he told Wendy what?” the girl inquired, becoming aware of their conversation.
“Oh, nothing,” said Charlie. “He’s just bullyragging me.”
“We was just talkin’ about Charlie’s grandchildren,” Red said innocently.
“You ugly varmint,” said Charlie, “why don’t you get together with Molly and discuss your own grandchildren?”
“Yes,” Molly said, becoming interested. “I’d like to hear about them.”
“Settle down, all of you,” said Don. “This is a time of rest. If nobody’s tired, I reckon we can get the herd moving and keep them on the trail until midnight.”
“I’m more tired than I realized,” Charlie said. “Think I’ll find me some shade and catch a few winks.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Red.
Griff didn’t return to Doctor Ballenger’s place until after breakfast the next morning
. Ballenger wasn’t there, and when Griff went in, he found Quando sitting on the edge of the bed. Quando wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Where the hell you been? I been settin’ here six hours, needin’ grub and a smoke.”
“The doc told me not to come back for a while,” said Griff. “You able to get up?”
“Why in tarnation wouldn’t I be?” Quando snarled. “I ain’t been gut-shot.”
“I need to settle with the doc,” said Griff. “Where is he?”
“How should I know?” Quando said. “Don’t pay the bastard nothin’.”
It was a good time for Ballenger to return, and he did so in time to hear what Quando said.
“Far as I’m concerned, you’re free to go,” said Ballenger. “There is no charge.”
“I brought this varmint here, and I’ll pay for him,” Griff said.
He left ten dollars on the table beside the bed, and when he left the office, Quando was right behind him. When they were outside, Quando spoke.
“You don’t hear too good, do you? He said there was no charge.”
“He heard what you said about not paying him,” said Griff.
“It bothers you, what a two-bit sawbones thinks?”
“It does,” Griff replied. “I wouldn’t want him thinkin’ I’m the least bit like you.”
Quando’s laugh was ugly. “You’re a damn thief, just like me, amigo. They don’t come in different shades.”
“I believe in payin’ what’s owed, if it’s in money or lead,” said Griff. “I don’t even like you, but the doc was expecting me to pay. If I’m around the next time you get shot, I’ll just leave you there.”
“Then we might as well split the blanket, right now,” Quando growled. “Last thing I want is some hombre watchin’ my back that’s inclined to get religion.”
“Suits me,” said Griff. “If somebody was about to back-shoot you, I reckon I’d have to wrestle with my conscience over whether you was worth savin’.”
Griff had brought Quando’s horse. When they mounted, Quando rode one direction and Griff rode another. Quando had money enough for grub, so he found a mercantile. When he had food to last him a week, he rode north. He needed money, enough for a stake, and when the herd was sold, those Texas cowboys would be flush . . .
But Quando wasn’t the only one with robbery on his mind. Ben and Curt Pickford had taken a room not far from the Ellerbee stock yards, where they awaited the arrival of the Texas herd.
“I still don’t feel easy about this,” said Curt.
“All you got to do is cover me,” Ben replied. “We’ll wait until we know that bunch has been paid for the herd. Once they hit town, they won’t stay together all the time. Soon as this Jim Roussel separates himself from the others, I’ll gun him down. You just see that nobody bores me while I’m taking his money.”
“I’ll back your play,” said Curt, “but when it’s done, I ain’t hangin’ around here. Them Texans is likely more vengeful-minded than you.”
The third day’s drive after leaving the Sierra Nevada foothills brought the longhorns within fifty miles of Los Angeles. Well-fed and watered, the herd trailed well.
“Are we bunchin’ ’em outside of town?” Mike asked.
“No,” said Don. “Ellerbee has cattle pens, and when Red and me was there, they gave us permission to drive ’em right on into the pens.”
“They’re wantin’ a twelve-hundred pound average,” Red said. “You reckon they’ve put on enough fat?”
“I think so,” said Don. “We haven’t been driving them hard, and there’s been plenty of good graze. They should be in prime condition.”
The sixth day after leaving the Sierra Nevada foothills, they reached the little village of Saugus. It wasn’t more than half a day’s drive to the Ellerbee stock pens.
18
Los Angeles, California. July 3, 1862.
Not even during the glory days of Spanish and Mexican rule had the town seen the like of the Texas longhorns. They filled a street from boardwalk to boardwalk as far as the eye could see, and there wasn’t a hitching rail left standing. Businessmen cursed the brutes as their massive horns raked doors and windows. Rain the night before had left water standing in the dirt streets, and they became a quagmire of mud after the passing of the herd. Don had ridden ahead and had opened the gates to the cattle pens. He waved his hat, and the riders kept the longhorns moving. When roughly a third of them had passed into the first pen, the rest were headed and driven to the other two pens. All activity came to a halt at Ellerbee’s, as everybody hurried to see the spectacle taking place outside. When the gates had been closed, Don rode on to the office. He found Dwight Ellerbee waiting.
“We’ll want a tally sometime today,” Don said.
“I’ll have it done immediately,” said Ellerbee, “as well as an inspection. However, you may have to wait until the day after tomorrow for your money. Tomorrow is July fourth, and the banks will be closed.”
“As long as we have a tally and a receipt,” Don said. “I’ll sign you a bill of sale.”
“See me at four o’clock this afternoon,” said Ellerbee. “I’ll have a tally and a receipt ready for you.”
Don rode back to join his waiting riders.
“I feel lost without a herd of cows to look after,” said Red.
“Ellerbee will have us a tally and receipt at four o’clock,” Don said, “but we can’t get our money until the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow’s July fourth, and the banks will all be closed.”
“We could celebrate, if we had some money,” said Mike Horton.
“I’ve thought of that,” Don said. “We have the money Beavers and Dent left behind, and since Sheriff DeShazo said it’s ours, we might as well divide it.”
“I ain’t so much wantin’ to celebrate as I’m wantin’ a decent shave, a haircut, and a bath,” said Charlie.
Don wasted no time. He counted out equal shares of three thousand and fifty dollars for each of them.
“I’m keeping the share belonging to Eli’s kin,” Don said. “Now why don’t we find us a good hotel that offers baths and has a dining room?”
“Good idea,” said Felton Juneau. “I reckon you and me can share a room, Don.”
Don laughed. “I reckon. It’ll be up to the rest of you catamounts as to what you aim to do with your ladies.”
“I got money enough for a room for Rose and one for me,” Mike Horton said.
“Don’t go spending money for an extra room for me,” said Rose. “I don’t think there are any secrets between us.”
“I feel the same way,” Sarah said.
Quickly the others expressed the same sentiments, and they went in search of a hotel. They found one appropriately named The Ocean View, for it faced the Pacific. There was a fancy dining room with a red-checked cloth on every table and a matching red carpet on the floor.
“Lord,” said Bonita Holmes, “we’ll be lucky if they let us in here.”
But there was no difficulty. Don and Felton took a room, paying in cash for the next two nights. The rest of the riders each took a room, also paying for two nights.
“Each of the ladies will need a bath,” Bob Vines said.
“Two dollars extra,” said the clerk.
Bob and his six companions each paid the extra two dollars. All their rooms were on the first floor. Four rooms were on one side of the hall, and four on the other.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Don said, “but I’m gonna find me a barber shop where I can get a shave, a haircut, and a bath all in one place.”
“I reckon me and the rest of these galoots will be goin’ with you,” said Bob, “after we show the ladies to their rooms.”
The others were quick to agree and began unlocking their doors.
“I’ll stop at the desk and have them send up your bath,” Bob said, when he and Sarah were inside. “When the rest of us are cleaned up and looking human, I think we all should go looking for some new clothes.”<
br />
“But I already have new clothes,” said Sarah.
“Cowboy clothes,” Bob said. “We can do better than that. By suppertime, you won’t look like a drag rider.”
After leaving an order at the desk for baths to be sent to seven of their rooms, the men went in search of a barber shop with an adjoining bathhouse. They were gone almost two hours. When they returned to the hotel, the women had taken their baths and the tubs had been removed.
“I’ve never been on a bed the like of this,” Molly said, when Red entered the room.
Her shirt and Levi’s hung on the foot of the bed and her boots sat under it.
“You goin’ to town like that?” Red asked.
“I didn’t know we were going to town,” said Molly. “Are we?”
“All of us was talking while we were at the barber shop,” Red said, “and we decided it’s time we all had some decent clothes. We ain’t had these off since leavin’ Texas, and it don’t make much sense, gettin’ a bath and then gettin’ back into the same old ragged, dirty clothes. I want to see how you look without range clothes.”
“Then take a look,” said Molly.
“Damn it, you know what I mean,” said Red. “Female clothes.”
Eventually there was a knock on the door, and when Red poked his head out, Don was waiting.
“The rest of us are goin’ looking for some new clothes,” Don said. “Are you and Molly goin’ with us?”
“I reckon,” said Red. “Give us a minute or two.”
Molly was already buttoning her shirt. Within seconds, she had on her Levi’s and was pulling on her boots. She and Red left the room and found their companions waiting in the hotel lobby.
“We got three hours before suppertime,” Don said. “We ought to get ourselves fancied up for a big day tomorrow.”
“You have to be at Ellerbee’s at four o’clock,” said Bob.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Don said. “From there, I aim to ride down to the dock and talk to somebody about those sailing ships. Soon as we collect our money for the herd, Felton and me had better board one for Houston, if we can. Gettin’ there is only half of it. We’ll have to come back the same way.”
The Old Spanish Trail Page 26