Dakota Trail

by David R Lewis

  I walked on up to where the fire an’ such was, an’ seen one a the finest things I had ever run across. Up next to the coach stood them little girls Marie had bought an’ the one Homer had found. They was all worshed up an’ dressed in new white pants an’ new white shirts, an’ strung out, side by side, from the tallest to the shortest. They all looked like they was standin’ at attention or somethin’. It tickled me, is what it done. Miss Lotus come up, stood beside me an’ said somethin’ in Chinee. Them little girls all bowed to me then an’ said what kindly sounded like “shay-shay.” I bowed back at ‘em then, an’ they all come to gigglin’ an such. Miss Lotus laughed an’ give me a hug.

  “Now they will each thank you for saving them,” she said, an’ a line started, the tallest of the girls first, ever one comin’ to hug on me a mite. By the time it was over I was down on my knees for the short ones an’ grinnin’ as wide as I ever had in my life. I was so terrible full a happy that I bowed to all of ‘em an’ went off for a spell until my eyes quit leakin’.

  I was walkin’ back to camp when Marion come on me. He was smilin’ quite a bit.

  “You alright are ya, Ruben?” he asked me.

  “Good Lord, Marion,” I said, “all them little girls smilin’ an’ givin’ me them hugs an’ such just about took ever bit a starch I had left.”

  “They done it to me and Homer, too, boy. Homer had tears runnin’ down his face afore they was half through with him. All these years, and I finally got a peek at his soft spot. I appreciate it, but I damn shore ain’t gonna mention it to him. I’d like to git through all a this without gittin’ shot.”

  That tickled me some, is what it done.

  Them girls was a mess. I reckon a lot of it was the fact that they warn’t locked up in them little cells no more, an’ the fact that Carlton had made a pot a some a rice noodles with lotsa little pieces a carrots an’ beans an’ potaters in it an’ some a that soy stuff. Just gittin’ all they wanted to eat an’ bein allowed to set out in the sunshine an’ the breeze done two things. It wound ‘em up so they was runnin’ around all over the place laughin’ an’ such, an’ it wore ‘em down so that most a the time about half of ‘em was flopped down on a tarp an’ snoozin’ away. It was kindly like watchin’ a pen full a puppies an’ we all got a kick out of it. That little one that Homer took out of the carriage come over to him several times where he was settin’ an’ would climb up on his lap for a spell an’ kindly lean on him some. Homer would put his arm around her a little bit an’ she’d set there for a few minutes, then take out to go run around an’ such. The rest of us got a kick out of it. Marie was grinnin’ so big I speck she was durn near ready to explode.

  Some clouds come to runnin’ in from the west that afternoon, an’ I helped Carlton attach a canvas tarp to the rail on top the coach an’ stretch it out about twenny feet an’ stake it in the ground. We moved the tarp that the girls had been nappin’ on under it so they’d have a place to sleep that night with some cover in case the weather might become troublesome. Marion took a hatchet an’ chopped up three poles to put up a little leanpee for the three of us for the same reason.

  Come suppertime, them girls was wore down quite a bit. It was just comin’ twilight when most of ‘em et all they wanted an’ kindly crawled off under that tarp an’ cuddled up to git some sleep. Carlton passed four or five blankets to ‘em so they could cover up an’ that was it. All of ‘em went down for the night. A little later, Miss Lotus crawled under there with ‘em so she could bring comfort is case somebody woke up all scairt or somethin’.

  It was full dark when it come to rain a little bit. The three a us brung our saddles under the cover a the leanpee an’ me an Homer throwed our rolls. Marion left his tied up an’ just set there. I looked at him.

  “You gonna stay up all night, are ya?” I asked him.

  “I’ve had more sleep lately than you an’ Homer,” he said. “I’m gonna set up half the night, then I’m gonna wake you two up, then we’re gonna head back over to that farmhouse an’ surprise them shitheads.”

  Carlton stood up, grabbed a stick that was burnin’ from out the fire, an’ walked off toward where the wagon was tied off to the rear end of the coach. When he come back, he was totin’ them three canteens full a kerosene. He set ‘em down where we could easy see ‘em, then smiled at us.

  “Best of luck to you men,” he said, an’ went off to take to his roll under the carriage.

  The three of us set there for a spell, not sayin’ nothin’ an’ just kindly starin’ over at the fire when Marie come walkin’ up. She was wearin’ a big ol’ robe of some kind while holdin’ a bumbershoot over her head an’ carryin’ a railroad lantern.

  “You men are true missionaries of justice,” she said. “I admire your courage and your selflessness. This is almost over, and I have no doubt that you will finish our mission. I have great confidence in you. Go with God.”

  We watched her walk off, an’ Homer an’ me took to our rolls. He was snorin’ in less than a minute. It took me a spell longer. The last thing I remember was Marion settin’ there lookin’ out into the night.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  I was down in that black hole when Marion woke me an’ Homer up. I didn’t know exactly what was goin’ on, I reckon. I went to git to my feet but didn’t have much luck tryin’ to stand up under that leanpee. I pushed my head into the canvas an’ kindly fell back down to my butt.

  “You alright are ya, boy,” Marion said, chucklin’ a little bit.

  “I fergot where I was for a minute,” I said, settin’ there an’ blinkin’ some.

  “You tired, are ya?”

  “Hell no,” I said. “Why would I be tired? I’ve had over three hours a sleep in the past two days. It quit rainin’, did it?”

  “’Bout a hour ago.”

  “This is helluva way to start the durn day,” Homer grumbled as he set up. “Rube still half asleep an’ floppin’ around like a carp on a river bank. You want me to git you a mattress an’ a sugar tit, do ya boy?”

  “I wish ya would,” I tolt him. “Then I could git the rest I truly deserve instead a havin’ to take to the trail with you two ol’ planks.”

  “Horses is saddled an’ ready,” Marion said, crawlin’ outa the leanpee. “We all got a canteen a that kerosene hangin’ on the right side a the horns an’ a little sack with some biscuits an’ jerky on the left side. There’s a pot a coffee over by the fire if ya want a quick cup. Make sure you bring that little shotgun a yours, Ruben. You boys take care a yer necessaries and let’s git to goin’. I’d like to arrive at our destination afore noon.”

  To tell ya the truth, I doan believe I really woke up until we had rode a mile or better. Willie took some care of me, follerin’ Marion an’ Homer without me havin’ to give him no directions at all. By the time we got to where we crossed that creek, the clouds had give up an’ they was some moonshine on the trail. I had et one a them biscuits an’ a piece a jerky by then an’ was in fair fettle. I noticed Homer was on the nod a little bit, his head bobbin’ with the steps a his horse.

  “You awake are ya, Homer?” I asked him.

  He give a little jerk an’ kindly cleared his throat.

  “I am or I’m havin’ a nightmare,” he said. “You been knocked down yet today?”

  That tickled me some. Marion chuckled an’ put his big ol’ App into a trot. Me an’ Homer follerd along.

  It was still a couple a hours afore daybreak when we come to where we could just barely see the house an’ barn off in the distance. Marion turned to the west some.

  “I want to come at ‘em so that barn is between us and the house,” he said. “Less chance a some early riser gittin’ a peek at us.”

  “No light in the house,” Homer said. “The only movement I can see is among the horses in the corral. That’ll be fine. If we hobble our horses behind the barn, an’ they make any noise, it might not alarm nobody. We got mebbe a hour an’ a half afore false dawn, boys. Let’s put ‘em on a trot
for a ways.”

  I figger we had about a hour to spare when we come up outa the west an’ got down from our horses behind that barn. Homer spoke up some quiet.

  “You got a plan, do ya Daniels?”

  “I do,” Marion said, takin’ that canteen a kerosene down from his saddle. “No mercy on these sonsabitches, boys. Not one bit. Ruben, you git yourself up beside the outhouse with that scattergun a yours. Homer, you set up near the backdoor of the place with my shotgun. I’ll pour some a this kerosene on the shed behind the house an’ set fire to it. Somebody will notice when it comes to burnin’. Them ol’ boys’ll head out the back to see about that fire. When they do, knock ‘em down. I don’t see no sense in any of ‘em livin’ through this. They is evil bastards, an’ it’s time they paid some dues. I reckon the grass is wet enough that fire won’t go no place it ain’t supposed to. That alright with the two a you?”

  “Fine with me,” Homer said. “They’s kidnappers an’ slavers. Ain’t no use for them soulless bastards in this world.”

  “I’m here, ain’t I,” I said, checkin’ the breech of my little scattergun.

  “Alright then, just don’t git in a rush. We want all three of ‘em outside afore any shootin’ starts,” Marion said, an’ commenced to puttin’ hobbles on his horse. Homer pulled Marion’s shotgun outa the saddle scabbard, an’ we started walkin’ toward the backside of the house.

  I reckon it took us about ten minutes to git everthin’ set up an’ ready to go. We warn’t in a terrible big hurry an’ that worked out fine, there only bein’ a fair moon an’ all. I stood out by the convenience, an’ Homer took up his post a little ways to the west side of the back door. I couldn’t see that shed from where I stood, but it warn’t long afore I could easy see the reflection a firelight bouncin’ off the back a the house.

  Even though it seemed like a half hour, it warn’t but a few minutes afore the back door slapped open an’ two fellas come hurryin’ out. In the light from the fire, I could see they was a cistern pump near the back door. One of em’ put a bucket under it, an’ the other one commenced to humpin’ that pump handle as fast as he could, both a them ol’ boys hollerin’ for Leon to hurry up an’ git outside. About the time the bucket was full, the backdoor crashed open agin, an’ the third fella come hustlin’ down the steps. Homer shot him.

  He give a holler an’ went down, kindly floppin’ on the last couple a steps. Them other boys, fresh outa sleep an’ some confused, both crouched down an’ commenced to lookin’ around. I shot the one with the bucket, an’ Homer used his last load on the ol’ boy by the pump handle. Marion come up through the firelight then, an’ put a round from his Colt in each a they heads. The three of us set on them back steps then, an’ watched that shed burn. None of us had much to say.

  The shed warn’t a lot more than just a pile a ashes driftin’ smoke by the time it got light enough to see real good. Marion grabbed one a them dead fellas by the feet an’ drug him out behind the house a little ways. Me an Homer pulled the other two out beside him.

  “We gonna bury these three?” I asked.

  “Coyotes’ll take care of the trash,” Marion said. “Why don’t you boys go bring the horses up while I look over the inside of the house.”

  Me an’ Homer struck out then an’ went to the horses. I pulled the hobbles off of ‘em an’ we headed back. Somethin’ stopped me an’ I spoke up.

  “Homer,” I said, “why doan you go ahead on while I take a peek around the inside a this barn.”

  “You alright are ya, Rube?” he asked me.

  “I believe I am,” I tolt him.

  He smiled at me a little bit.

  “Boy,” he said, “we ain’t done nothin’ more here this mornin’ than just took out the trash. You need to know that.”

  “Yessir,” I said, “I believe I do.”

  He brimmed his hat at me then, an’ went off with the horses.

  Near the back a the barn was a stairway leadin’ up to the loft. I went up to look around, an’ seen at least a dozen cribs bein’ built on that level, each one about four by six feet an’ about five feet tall an’ all of em set up with a door that had about a foot square barred winda in it. None of ‘em was completely finished, but they warn’t far from it. Lord. Them fellas was fixin’ to build another prison for little girls out in the barn. It hit me some hard, is what it done, an’ I went back down them steps kindly numb like. I was fixin to go on my way when I smelt somethin’ that stunk somethin’ awful. I looked around some an’ run across a kindly rolled up waxed tarp over agin’ the side wall. I knelt down, holdin’ my breath, an’ lifted the bottom corner of it. I durn near throwed up.

  They was what was left of a human rolled up inside that tarp. I could see a pair a boots near stickin’ out of the bottom. The sight an’ the smell knocked me back from it a little bit an’ down on my butt. I got to my feet, kindly shakin’ some an’ started to head back toward the house, but somethin’ wodden let me go. I took another deep breath an’ went back to it, liftin’ up that tarp. Rats an’ such had been after the body quite a bit, an’ what I could see of the pantlegs was some sliced up an’ kindly shredded. I was turnin’ away agin’ when I looked at them boots a little better. Burnt into the side of the left boot heel was two letters, both shaped like a “J”. My God. I had found Marshal Jimmy Jacklin.

  I doan know what really happened to me then. I run off inside myself, I guess. Everthin’ is some hazy in my memory of it. The next thing I really knowed was Marion squatin’ down beside me where I set in the wet grass a few feet away from the barn.

  “Ruben Beeler,” he said to me, “are ya still with us? What’s the matter boy?”

  I was numb like an’ couldn’t answer him for a minute. Marion knelt down beside me an’ put his hand on my shoulder. It was sorta like some strength come from him into me. I looked at him. They was quite a bit a concern on his face.

  “Sweet Jesus, Marion,” I said, “I believe I have found Jimmy Jacklin. He’s layin’ in there up agin the south wall of the barn an’ wrapped up in a tarp. His boot has got his initials burnt into the side of a heel.”

  “Stay set, boy,” Marion said, an’ went off. I seen him go inside the barn. About that time, Homer walked up an’ looked down at me.

  “You alright, Rube?” he asked.

  “Nossir, I ain’t,” I tolt him. “I believe I found Jimmy Jacklin’s decayin’ body in the barn. Runnin’ across it like that has took all the starch outa me. Marion is in there now, lookin’ things over.”

  Homer didn’t say nothin’, but I could feel him studyin’ on me some afore Marion come back an’ spoke up.

  “Ain’t no way in hell to identify the body by the looks of it. It’s too far gone. I reckon them initials is the giveaway, though.”

  “There’s a body in there?” Homer asked.

  Marion nodded.

  “Ruben run across it. God knows how long it has been wrapped up in a tarp inside that barn. One of the boots has got Jimmy Jacklin’s initials burnt into the side of the heel. I reckon that’s good enough to identify.”

  I got up from where I was settin’ on the ground with a little help from Homer. It seem quite a bit brighter than when I come down to the barn. I took several deep breaths afore I spoke up.

  “We got to bury him,” I said.

  Marion shook his head.

  “No, we don’t,” he said. “There’s enough of a graveyard here as it is.”

  “What graveyard?” I asked.

  “There are ten or fifteen small graves in back of the outhouse,” Marion went on. “By the size of ‘em, I figger they is some a them girls that didn’t survive long enough to git sold.”

  Homer spoke up.

  “Me an Marion has been through the place, Rube. We found that bag a gold pieces that Miz Jervis give that ol’ boy, as well as four or five handguns an’ two rifles that Arliss the gunsmith might like to have.”

  “How’d you do that so fast?” I asked him.

  Mari
on smiled a little bit.

  “It has been full light for better’n a hour boy. Findin’ Jimmy set you off the rails for a spell, I reckon. You back, are ya?”

  “Purty much,” I said.

  “Good. We got a little more to do here, then we can git back to camp.”

  That little more to do was to loose the horses in the corral, spread a canteen and a half of that kerosene in the house, an’ a canteen of it in the barn. After all that was done, Marion throwed a couple a lit matches into the house an’ Homer done the same thing in what was gonna be Jimmy Jacklin’s grave. Purty soon, they wodden be nothing left of the whole place but ashes, smoke, and a outhouse.

  We took to horse an’ headed south toward camp then to loose them other horses. I didn’t look back. Neither did Homer or Marion. Ahead of us, it seemed to be a fine mornin’.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  It took us six days to git back to Sioux Falls. One a them days had us under cover up near the bank a the James River durin’ a helluva rainstorm, while we tried to bring some comfort to a mess a little girls that was terrible scairt by the thunder an’ lightnin’ an’ such. For most a the trip, them girls was just a runnin’ around an’ laughin’ at one another when we made camp, or takin’ turns ridin’ horseback behind one or more of us so the inside a that coach wodden be so crowded. The little one that Homer got out a that buggy just wodden hardly leave him alone. Ever time we’d set camp, she’d foller him around, or come over to set by him, or set on him wantin’ to snuggle a little bit. I doan know how many hugs I got on that trip, but it was a treat I’ll carry with me all my days. By the time we got back to Sioux Falls an’ out to the Jervis House, we was all some wore down from totin’ that mess a children. Them girls, however, was gittin’ better food an’ attention than any of ‘em had got for a spell. All that energy had them zippin’ around like a bunch a water bugs.