by Lou Bradshaw
We were on the north side of the mountain and moving away from Henry Bench’s valley. The trail was steep but passable. From my vantage point, which could be better described as a disadvantage point; it looked like we were going to climb right over the top. Making that climb in the dark, didn’t fill me with happy thoughts. But I was sure old Henry knew what he was doing. Then I remembered questioning his sanity just a few hours earlier.
The clouds thinned out and disappeared, and the moon gave more light. It wasn’t enough to be climbing over mountains, but it was better. We could at least see some features against the sky. And we could see the reflection from high up snow on neighboring peaks. I’ve known worse conditions, but I’ve known some that were a site better.
Henry had been stopping to rest the horses from time to time, but after about three hours, he called a full stop and started building a fire. It was well past midnight, and we could all use a little coffee. He chose a spot that had been used before, and I suspected it had been used by him. It was back in a small hollow place where the light wouldn’t be seen, unless the looker was on the mountain to the north.
“We gonna need to be wide awake for the next leg…an you gonna need as much nerve as you can scrape up. None of you fellers is scairt of the high ups are yee?”
Flynn looked at me and then back to Henry and said, “Oh hell no! If you can lead, we can at least follow… You think you’re guidin’ a bunch of school gorls?”
Henry just chuckled and said, “They’s a place down there, where we gonna have to lead the horses for your own sake as well as theirs. They won’t need any lump of a man sittin’ on they backs wigglin’ and movin’ about… You’re gonna have to throw your right stirrup up over the saddle.”
“Peedro, you walk along with a good grip on that stallion… that lady horse will be just fine. Blue, you put the pack horse behind your’n… and loose. If it goes over, you won’t lose the buckskin too.”
“At places we’ll be about thirty five hunnert feet above what’s down there, but don’t worry, it ain’t the fallin’ that’ll kill you… it’s the landin’.” He laughed again.
“I take it, you’ve been over this trail a time or two.” I said.
“Oh Lordy yes… Ever time I shoot one of them fellers, I head over the mountain. Some of ‘em follered me this far onest… they turned back… they never even got to the good part.”
“Have you ever been over it in the dark?”
“Well… I don’t reckon so… but…” He let his unfinished sentence hang out there like a red railroad lantern. My mind raced back to when I was questioning his sanity. I always try to trust my first instinct. But my opinion of Henry had been back and forth so many times, I couldn’t remember which was my first instinct.
I had no choice, if we went back, there’d be a one sided battle, which we’d most likely lose. Don Carlos wouldn’t recover his horses, nor would this bunch be brought to justice. At least we had a chance following Henry. I decided to declare him completely sane and competent. I also decided not to share my misgivings with the others.
Riding on after our rest, we were refreshed and awake. The horses seemed to be rejuvenated as well, or maybe they just liked going downhill better than climbing. The trail was no less hazardous, nor was it any easier, but it was going downhill.
Several miles later and a thousand feet lower, we rounded a bend and came out of the pines. The moon, what there was of it had completely gone… disappeared. I could see the faint light on the peak off to my left, but where the moon should have been… there was nothing. There wasn’t even a star to be seen. It was nothing but a massive black hole in the night.
I could see stars to my left and the sky was a fraction lighter there, but directly ahead of us was only black. Then I saw the hard edge where stars ended and the black began. The black mass angled from left to right with a bulge in the middle. Looking up, I could see the form of the bald face of the mountain we were on.
That chunk of rock wouldn’t be a challenge for a mountain goat, but we didn’t have a single goat with us. Looking down to what should be a valley or a river or at least something, there was nothing. I could feel the warm damp air rising from below, but you can’t see warm air unless it turns to fog… I was uncomfortable.
Henry called a halt as we came closer to the rock face and dismounted saying, “Well, fellers, this is where we start walkin’.”
We each got down and found our place in the order. I unloaded the packhorse and distributed the supplies to the other horses. Each man would lead his animal, but we didn’t have any on lead ropes. The packhorse would follow Dusty. I was hoping it could make it without the bulk and weight of the packsaddle. He was a good little soldier, but I didn’t know how sure footed he was… he was just a cow pony that wasn’t quick enough to work cattle.
“Now, you boys just take it slow and easy. If your horse starts actin’ up, try to keep it calm… if you cain’t… git the hell out of its way. Peedro, talk sweet to that there big boy, and pray he don’t git fractush…We gonna cross on a ledge and end up way down yonder on a slope that will take us to the bottom…. Been good knowin’ you fellers.”
He led off and we strung out behind him. I wasn’t too worried about Dusty. He was the savviest horse I’d ever known for wild country. I looked up ahead and tried to see how the horses were doing, but all I could see was a glimpse and catch a little movement. The packhorse had his nose practically nudging Dusty. But we were moving.
I could barely see Flynn’s horse and I couldn’t see Flynn at all. We were going as slow as we could, and risking death with each tentative step. Occasionally, I would hear a hoof hit a stone, or someone swear. We were in the shadow of the rock wall and no matter how we wished, hoped, or even prayed for our eyes to make out the edge, they might as well have been closed.
Ahead of me, I heard more than saw, Flynn’s horse stumble or falter… I couldn’t really tell which. He must have been able to keep a firm grip because there was a snort and they moved on. My heart left my throat and went back where it belonged, but it was beating with some heavy thumps. I took a deep breath and moved on.
Above us was the bulge, which only added to the dark shadows. We weren’t getting any help from the moon, and we couldn’t get any benefit from the stars. I was holding Dusty’s reins with my left hand, and my right was staying in constant contact with the wall. My horse’s nose was practically next to my ear. I had to marvel that his breathing gave no indication of any kind of stress. We could be walking across the corral for all the stress he showed. But for me, each step was a look into eternity.
Up ahead, one of the Don’s horses made a sudden fling of its head, which was followed by a short neigh and a snort. I could hear Pablo’s soft easy voice talking to whichever one had become excited. We stopped, and I was sure we all were holding our breaths because I found myself exhaling when we started on again.
We rounded a turn, and it was like someone had lit a lamp. The little bit of moon that we’d found almost useless a few hours ago, was as welcome as a sunrise… and seemed almost as bright. I could remember few things that I was happier to see than that little fingernail moon. It wasn’t very bright, but it made a world of difference.
“Won’t be long now, fellers.” Henry Bench called out from his place at the head of the line.
In less than two minutes we filed off the ledge and onto a slope leading down to the valley. There was a collective sigh from everyone. We took a few minutes to put our raw nerves back in their proper state. I struck a match and looked at my big railroad watch. It had taken us over three hours to cross the bald face of that mountain. According to Henry, it was less than a mile across and not more than four feet wide at any point… no wonder our nerves were raw.
The sun was painting the eastern sky a dull gray by the time we reached the valley floor. Henry fixed a fire for breakfast and coffee. We all needed coffee, but we needed rest more than coffee. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I sat down.
I’m not sure I finished my breakfast before I dozed off.
When my eyes opened, I jumped enough to spill the half cup of coffee I still had in my hand. Fortunately it was cold. My tin plate had become a feeding ground for ants. Quickly looking around, I saw Flynn and Bench sprawled on the grass. It took me a few seconds to find Pablo sitting against a tree with is rifle across his lap. He was awake but haggard and drawn. He had stationed himself among the horses, with Achilles’ lead rope wrapped around his arm.
I went to the fire and refilled my cup, and then went to relieve Pablo. By my watch, I had slept about an hour and a half. That wasn’t ideal, but it was necessary. I figured I’d be all right as long as we didn’t have to cross any more ledges in the dark.
Pablo swore he was fine and wouldn’t need any sleep, but one look at his face, and I knew he was at the end of his rope… He had been carrying a heavier load than the rest of us. The safety and well being of the Don’s horses were his personal responsibility, or at least they were… in his mind. He was there as a representative of the Domingo rancho, and that was a job he took seriously.
I finally convinced him that we were going to need him to be fresh and alert before this day was over. We didn’t know what waited for us at Ulla Mae or between here and there. He handed me the lead rope and rolled over into the grass.
I’d give Pablo at least an hour and a half; he deserved that much consideration before we moved out. We were still a good fifteen miles from Ulla Mae, which meant it would be late afternoon before we got there.
Chapter 17
Sun was low in the sky as we rode down the one street of Ulla Mae. There were too many horses tied to the hitch rail in front of the saloon for comfort. We’d need some supplies before we took off early the next morning, so we rode around to the back of the general store. I went in alone to do the shopping while the others stayed with the horses. Pablo and Flynn both had their Winchesters fully loaded and in hand, and Bench had his old Henry seven shot fully loaded and ready. I had no doubt they could all hit what they shot at.
Slipping through the back door and through the living area, I went through the curtain into the store. Gus didn’t seem too surprised to see someone come in that way. He barely looked away from the window when he greeted me.
“Sorry about usin’ the back door,” I said, “but the saloon seemed a might busy and I didn’t want to meet too many people…. What’s goin’ on over there?”
“Seems of them KW boys got a couple of Mex riders sorta pushed into a corner… I’m just hopin’ they don’t shoot too many holes in my saloon.”
I quickly wrote down what I’d need and told him I’d be right back, then I slipped out the back door. Going to my bedroll, I reached in and pulled out my old express gun. Then I took a few extra shells from my saddle bag.
“Ye gonna huntin’, Squire?” Flynn asked. “Ye gonna need a gun bearer?”
“No… This is more useful as a trouble stopper than anything I can think of…You fellas stay here and keep your eyes open.”
I put a fresh load in the sawed-off and snapped her shut as I walked the short distance between the two buildings. As I walked through the swinging doors, I let them swing back and forth to let them know someone had just come in. The two men in wide sombreros were casually sitting at the same table we’d sat at a few days ago.
Standing at the bar facing the pair were four hardcases. From the way they were standing, I was pretty sure there had been some taunting going on. As I walked toward the bar, one of the hardcases addressed me, “You’re just in time for some fun, friend… we got us a pair of greasers that we just might roast… if we don’t just shoot ‘em instead.”
“No thanks, friend, I’ll pass… That meat ain’t no good for roastin’… an’ I sure don’t intend on shootin’ it out with Angel Baca with just four or five men…. But don’t let me spoil your fun.” I pointed the express gun in their general direction and pulled back on the hammer.
“Now, if there are two of you boys who think you’re good enough to buck the Angel of Death, then you just move off to the far end of the bar, and have at it. The other two stay at this end, so I can cut loose on you if you touch your guns.”
“Buenos Dias, Marshal”
“Good afternoon, Angel, good to see you again.”
The men at the bar had a brief discussion and decided there would be another day. So they paid up and headed for the door. Each man gave me a nasty look as they passed.
I followed them out on the porch and said, “I see by your brand, that you boys are from the KW… You might want to head on back to the ranch. There seems to have been some trouble out there… I wouldn’t stick around here too long because Henry Bench is in town and he’s huntin’ scalps.”
“There’ll be another time, big man.” One of them called out as they turned their horses and rode out of town.
Sarrie came to the door and said, “Lord have mercy, I sure thought there was gonna be a bunch of lead flyin’ in there… I was hunkered down behind everything I could git in front of me.”
“Sometimes, it just takes a little bit of reason to calm things down.” I told her as I eased the hammer down on the express gun.
Angel Baca and Pedro came to the door and stepped out on the porch. “You were a most welcome sight, Marshal. I thought we were in a tight spot… perhaps we do not get out whole, but four of them would not leave alive.”
“Figured as much, but I thought it might be better to leave six men whole than to shoot up Gus’s finely crafted building. Besides, I couldn’t take a chance on pretty gal like Sarrie here getting hurt in the crossfire.” She slapped my arm and Baca chuckled.
“You up here workin’ for the Don?” I asked.
“No… I give him a gift. I was going to a village near Silverton, we stopped at the crossing of the San Juan and heard the story there. It was a chance to repay Don Carlos… a leetle bit…. We go get the horses now?”
“I’m afraid you’re a little late, Baca…. We already got the Don’s horses. They’re with Pablo and two others… behind the store… come, have a look at ‘em.”
The four of us, Baca, Pedro, me, and Sarrie walked across the way to the store and around the side to the rear of the building. When they saw the two animals, Sarrie gasped, Pedro stood straighter, and Angel Baca smiled. Gus was out there practically crawling under them. He’d wanted to sit on Achilles, but Pablo pulled a gun on him and threatened to shoot him if he touched either one.
I told Gus we wanted to use his stable for the night to house the Arabs. And we’d like to set up camp there too. He said we could for a dollar, I gave him the dollar. Then I told him there would be more men coming soon, and it wouldn’t be wise to try charging them… It was just friendly advice.
Juan Domingo and four men came in at dusk. Things were looking up. The numbers were starting to turn in our favor. I gave Juan the short version of how we were able to get the horses back… especially told him how valuable Pablo had been and his walk across a mile of narrow ledge over a half a mile high… in the dark. We talked things over and decided that he, Pablo and two others would start back in the morning with Achilles and Athena. I would stay with Baca, Flynn, his other vaqueros and anyone else who might come along, and see if we could do something about shutting down the KW.
Dawn brought four of Don Carlos’s men and two from Don Felipe’s rancho. Don Felipe’s men were tough and arrogant. They were determined to take charge of the two Arabs. They argued back and forth with Juan and Pablo, until I’d had enough.
“Señors, this is my operation, and I say who goes with who and who is in charge of what. And I’ve decided that I want you two with me when we hit the bunch that stole those horses and killed the Don’s men.”
The younger of the two turned on me and said, “You can say what you want, gringo, but we don’t take orders from you… we work for Don Felipe, and he told us to take charge of the horses. Stand aside Señor.” With that, he put his hand on my chest and tried to pus
h me out of the way.
I’m not one to be pushed around, unless Patty Anne is doing the pushing. So I took a double hand full of vest with a hand in each arm hole and lifted him off the ground. And then I flung him up and back. He landed on his back and was stunned but unhurt. His first reaction was to reach for his weapon. I heard three hammers click, and the young vaquero moved his hand away from his holster.
Baca was the first to ease the hammer down, then Flynn, and the last was the ever silent Pedro. The young rider didn’t know Flynn from any other gringo and Pedro was just another peon, but he knew who Angel Baca was, and he wanted no part of what he knew.
I stepped forward and extended my hand to help him up. When he was on his feet and looking sheepish I said, “Now that we have the jurisdiction worked out, we can all get along and be friends.”
I asked Juan to deliver the horses to Don Felipe and get word to Don Carlos, and Patty Anne. “What if Don Felipe asks about his men?”
“You can tell him that I wanted those good fighting men with me when we raided that ranch.”
“That is good, Benito, Don Felipe would be shamed if he knew his men were disrespectful to a friend of his brother in law… I think the boy will be fine in a few years… if he lives that long”
The young vaquero stood staring at me with venom enough to kill a rattler. So I walked over to him and led him off to where we could talk. His expression was wary. He didn’t know if I was going to shoot him or throw him again. I knew his English was good, so I made it easy on myself.
“I didn’t get your name when you came in… Mine is Blue… Ben or Benito Blue, you can call me whatever you want, except gringo…. Señor Gringo would be alright though. Now, what do I call you besides trouble?”