Judge, you are a man of the law and can likely imagine the consternation of knowing your fate depended on such a thing.
I will make a long story a short one, on account of Preacher Dob give us many details of the men that behaved in a brave manner and made jokes upon drawing a black bean, saying, The jig is up for me, boys, and of them that was overcome with dread of the black beans and could not command their shaking hands as they was blindfolded and prodded into their turn.
Preacher Dob spoke in a slow and doleful manner as he told us about it, and paused amongst his words as if it was hard to speak them. It was a cloudy day it happened, he said, cold and windy in the prison yard, and I was the next to last in line to draw. Whilst I awaited my turn I thought how my mother had wanted better for me than how I turned out. I recalled how I run off in my youth and went out west and drove furs, and fought Indians, and spent time with the women, and drank more than I aught to of. And what good had it done anybody. Here I was, in dirty rags, nearly forty years of age, nearly starved to death, my sins on my head and my head crawling with vermin, and God was about to decide my result when I reached into that pot. I had made the worst waste of my life.
But whilst he mused thus, he said, and watched the other men draw their beans, one after another, he noted the fact the black beans was a touch smaller. And when the blindfold was put on, and he reached his hand in, there was but two beans left, one for him and one for the man behind him, who was hardly more than a boy. He got hold of the small one first, and felt of it, and feared it, and let go of it, and felt of the bigger one, and took it.
And the blindfold was pulled off and there he stood, looking at a bean as white as a baby’s tooth betwixt his thumb and finger.
He told us of this in the most somber way, and I will not forget his face in the light of that fire, and how his words seemed now and then to stick in his throat. There was moments he paused so long that we just sat there listening to frogs croaking. He said, The boy behind me drew the bean that should of been mine, and sure enough, it was black, as I had known it would be. Those of us with the white beans was made to lay down and was told if any of us should lift our heads we would all, every one, be shot. Therefore I had my face in the dirt as the Mexicans marched off half of them ill fated ones, and we heard volleys of musketry, and then they come and taken the rest.
These was all men I knew well. We had fought together, and wandered together, and despaired together. We had faced our chances together. And now seventeen of us was gone off on pale horses, and I knew, for sure I knew, I aught to of been one amongst them.
I stayed a prisoner in Mexico for a while after that, and when I got free and crossed back over the river, I was finished with adventure. I got married and settled down and had my son and tended my farm. But I never felt right with myself. I could hear the sound of them volleys blasting in my head. And one day my wife was pouring beans from a bag into a pot to cook for supper, and something in me turned on myself. I took a look at the beans, and a look at my wife and my young son, and a look at my house around me, and the guilt of what I done come boiling out of me like a storm. I broke down. It all come pouring out. I fell on my knees and told my wife what I done. I repented to God and prayed for my salvation and for the salvation of that boy holding that bean I might as well of just handed him, and the fate I give him with it. The shame was too much to shoulder. I had won my life with a cheat, and my life had to prove worth it. It’s a hard task to make your life count when you stole the life of another. All I could figure to do was to rise every morning, and try. So I taken to traveling and sharing the gospel.
When he had done telling us this we was consumed by silence, and deep in thought, and reflected upon the flames licking at the dark.
After some time Mr Pacheco shook his head, and stood up, and walked a pace off, and walked back, and stoked up the fire, and sat before the flames again. He said, I, too, am a sinner. I have sinned against the three of you in not telling you something that I know. There is a bounty of two thousand dollars on the hide of El Demonio de Dos Dedos.
Sir, I do not need to tell you it was sure a surprise to hear that. Sam and me had never heard speak of two thousand dollars before, and we sat there dumb as stones.
Mr Pacheco said the allcallday, which was the mayor, in Piedras Negras had money he had got together from a lot of people and it was to be given to any person who would bring in the hide of Dos Dedos with the hind right attached. There was to be two toes only on the hind right, and the gone two toes was to of been gone a long time, in other words healed up, on account of there was a man afoot killing panthers and cutting the toes off the hides and bringing the hides in and saying they was the hide of Dos Dedos, when they was of panthers that was impostors. There was nobody going to fall for that.
He said when he learned we was after the panther he give consideration to going ahead of us and killing the panther hisself and taking the hide. He had built up his ranch out of years of hard work, and Cortina and his bandits had rode in and taken his horses and burnt the place to stubble, and two thousand dollars would give him a good start to building it back. However, if he was to take the hide for hisself, he would forfeit his favor with God. He would be a cabrone without vergwenza, which he said meant a goat without shame. Therefore his conscience had took over and he was now being truthful with us and would share two thousand dollars amongst us, a third for me and Sam, a third for Preacher Dob, and a third for hisself.
You might think I would pounce on information such as that. To the contrary, it took me a minute to figure out what to say, and how much a third might be.
However, Sam did not give a thought to any of that. I don’t care about money, she said. The hide ain’t going to Piedras Negras, it is staying in my house with me.
That arose a heated conversation that went on for a good while. Mr Pacheco said the hide would have to go to Piedras Negras for the bounty. However, he would bring it back to us and she could have it and keep it in the house.
Sam was set that he could not take it at all, as she intended to have it the whole time.
I told her, Can you see no farther than the nose on your face. Can you not see how we could use the money.
Preacher Dob said he did not need the money to do the Lord’s work, but if there was to be money, he could see how his family could use it.
Mr Pacheco offered that Sam and myself could ride with him to Piedras Negras and he would see we got back safe with the hide and our money. He would bring us back.
Sam would hear none of it. She stood up and said, This panther has killed my mama. It has spoilt my face. It has robbed us of our kids. If I shoot it, then I will skin it, and dry out the hide and walk on it for the rest of my life, and never, ever, ever let nobody take it down to Mexico where it might not come back from! Look at me! All of you look at me! You want songs, you want money, but I want payback. And I own the say-so! I own the right! I own all the right!
Preacher Dob said, Vengeance belongs to the Lord, Samantha.
She said, Only if he can beat me to it.
Preacher Dob said, The people down on the border need peace of mind about the panther same as you do. Are you not thinking of them.
She said, I am thinking of my mama.
We none of us knew what to say about that. We sat there some more, and give it more thought.
Mr Pacheco talked of how he had chose to do what was right, and how she was going to cost him his chances, and cost us all our chances, just on account of she wanted the hide.
I said, You might as well be a dog barking at the wind, Mr Pacheco.
Sam laid down on the poncho and put Preacher Dob’s blanket over her head and gone to sleep.
The rest of us was too stumped to sleep. We was perplexed. We sat close to the fire. I remarked that I was sorry she was so stubborn.
Preacher Dob said I was not to blame myself.
Mr Pacheco said he believed she might come around.
I said, She won’t come arou
nd.
We walked a pace off out of her hearing, and whispered about if there might be a honorable way to trick her, but none of us come up with one.
Preacher Dob said perhaps we was better off without the money, on account of money was the root of all kinds of evil and could lead us away from the Lord and pierce us with many pangs. He said, I am more worried about my dog. Poor old half blind fellow. Where could he be.
Mr Pacheco had cigars he called pulkee puros. He said they was made in Mexico where they was soaked in pulkee. He give one of them to me and one to Preacher Dob and one to hisself, and we smoked them. We was careful not to wake Sam, on account of we did not want to hear any more out of her.
The night was cold, so we kept up the fire. However, it was not a hearty one, as we did not want to attract Comanches. Mr Pacheco stretched out and commenced to snore, but me and Preacher Dob did not sleep, although we was tired out. We had things on our minds. Preacher Dob offered up a prayer for Zechariah and I asked him to offer one for my chickens, which was not used to being left out of their coop and prey to coons and coyotes overnight. He done so, and our minds was more at ease after that.
He commenced to talk about the beauty of the stars streaking in the sky over the branches, and I said, I don’t see those, where are they.
He pointed out a number of them, and there was moments I did catch a blur, but no more. After a bit he said, Try these, and took off his spectacles and handed them over.
They was tricky to put on, on account of one arm was a stick, but Judge, I will tell you what. It brought tears to my eyes to see so many stars. I had never seen so many, nor even known they was there. It was like a bunch of them had been added. They was indeed beautiful. I sat up and looked about me, and I am telling you, it was a different world I saw. I seen the branches of the persimmon overhead lit by the shine of the fire, every leaf as red as the fire itself and a separate thing from the others, and the yellow of nearby sycamores dangling leaves that was each on their own. I seen the sparks rising up to the sky. I seen the eyes of a possum off in the brush and the swish of my mare’s tail. And I known then why I was such a poor shot at things, and why I nearly stepped on the rattlesnake when I was looking for the cows. I known a lot of things in that moment that I did not know before, about me and the world and about many things hard to put into words.
Preacher Dob said, You wear those a while if you want to. Maybe we’ll get you a pair one day. He planned to turn in, and asked me to keep a watch out and listen for Zechariah.
I was happy to keep a watch out. I could of sat there just watching for years.
I was on guard for maybe two hours and had commenced to ponder what Sam and myself might do with a third of two thousand dollars, when I got a small whiff of skunk. It was only faint at that time, but then slowly become worse, as if advancing along the floor of the canyon at a pace. I roused up the others to see if they thought we should get out of the way, as it was a terrible smell and we had got the wind of it.
We did not know what it might be attached to. Preacher Dob took back his spectacles so he could look into the dark. I wondered if I aught to get Hanlin’s gun ready to shoot whatever was dragging the scent. Then I figured we would be better off to let it pass through than to have it dead in our midst.
It was noisy, whatever it was. Out of the shadows along the floor of the canyon it come. We could not tell at first what it was, as it was nearly on its belly, and then Preacher Dob become excited and said, Here comes Zechariah!
And indeed, here he did. He was gagging and retching. He stank worse than I can even tell you.
I took to my heels and gagged all the way up the side of the canyon. The slope was brushy and rocky but not too steep, and I got to the top pretty quick. Mr Pacheco come running behind me, and the pinto charged up after him, as he was neither tied nor hobbled and followed Mr Pacheco like a dog would. We topped the rim to leave the scent behind us and catch our breaths. We nearly give up our suppers from the smell.
I looked back and made out Sam down there in the dark hollering up at me for being a coward. Preacher Dob had got hold of the dog and was rolling him in the muddy creek. There was a good bit of splashing and yelping.
Mr Pacheco and me decided we had better go back and help out. We made a headlong descent and got to the bottom and stripped our shoes and boots off and waded into the water.
Preacher Dob hollered, Help me hold him! He thinks I’m trying to drown him! I need clean water to flush his eyes! He’s got sprayed in the face!
It might surprise you how Sam took to the chore of fetching the clean water. I myself was surprised at her industry until I figured what she was up to. She did not care a whit about the dog except for it being our hope of catching up with the panther. She grabbed up a knife and the cook pot Ida had packed, and went to hacking pieces of prickly pear and dunking the flesh in the pot the way Mr Pacheco shown us to do it to clear the water. She dumped the water on the dog’s face and filled the pot and done the undertaking over again. She got prickly pear spines in her hands and yet did not say boo about that.
That dog was a woeful sight. The smell was not the least of it, but it was not all of it neither. He was beat up from running through brush. He was already a bad looking dog with a big head and short legs and a scraggy hind end. And now his eyes was swole up. The white one was red as a cardinal. He must of been chasing after the cat and met up with a skunk and got sprayed straight on in the face. He snapped and snarled and bit us pretty good, as we had to dunk him a number of times.
Preacher Dob said, The water ain’t helping. We need vinegar.
I said, What about the pickled cucumbers.
He said, Get the jar.
I got it and kept the pickles in but dumped the vinegar over the dog. We rubbed it into his fur. He then smelled of vinegar mixed with skunk, which was worse than just skunk. We rolled him in the water. Mr Pacheco thrown up. It was not a fun time.
Preacher Dob taken Zechariah up to the rim and tied him to a tree. He stank as bad as ever and was shivering. Preacher Dob taken him food. He come back down and said he figured Zechariah was about done hunting panthers for the time being and maybe forever. He said, There is no way he can pick up a scent when he is carrying a odor as strong as that.
Mr Pacheco said he would not yet give up on tracking the panther.
Sam said she would not give up the four-shot pepperbox nor turn back.
I thought, What chance do we have to catch up with the panther without the help of the dog. And what chance do I have to see my share of two thousand dollars, even if we was to do so.
We was cold and did not have dry clothes. We attempted to sleep.
Chapter 10
Dear Judge,
I wish you could of seen the look on my face when I got your parcel. It was brought to me by the man who carried the last report I wrote you to Mr Hildebrand. His name is Gus Mapes. I told you about him. Mr Hildebrand give the package to him to bring to me at the camp, and when he give it to me he said, Benjamin, Mr Hildebrand wanted me to tell you how sorry he was not to be around to see your face when you open this, as he thinks he might know what it holds.
Judge, I will tell you what. My hopes was so high upon hearing that, that I believe I might of broke down if the package had contained anything other than this pen. But behold, I opened it up, and found the pen and also the holder for it, which is handy. There was quite a few men at the camp that did not understand why I might make such a fuss about a pen. However, I think they was glad to see me cheerful, as I have been tired out from working hard and they have not seen a smile on my face like that in a long time.
It is the very pen Mr Hildebrand showed me the advertisement of and that I wrote you about and will make my letters a lot easier to read. It is the best gift anyone ever given me. I am not just laying it on thick about that. I will also hang on to your kind note for a long time, or even forever if I can find a good place to put it. It pleased me a great deal. I intend to take your advice an
d continue to write for a good many years after I am done writing to you.
I could go on about the pen, but I guess you have got other things to do than read more about that. For one thing you have got to make your determination about if Clarence Hanlin is guilty. Pretty soon you will have all of my proof in hand that indeed, he is.
Thank you again, sir, for the generous gift that you give me. I will keep it until my time is up and the reaper should come fetch me.
Yours kindly,
Benjamin Shreve
MY TESTAMENT
We awoke to a cloudy day and the stink hanging over the canyon. My hopes was not high, those of Preacher Dob pretty well gone, Mr Pacheco’s wrung out a bit but not yet hung to dry, and Sam’s the same as ever, not so passing as to be swept off by a odor, on account of she was bent on killing that panther no matter what misfortune might befall.
Whilst Mr Pacheco stirred up the fire, Preacher Dob gone up to the rim to look after Zechariah and then come down and made coffee in a miserable frame of mind. He said, I am sorry to break the news to you good people, but I see no use in continuing our hunt when we have lost the trail and have no way of finding it again. Zechariah smells too bad hisself to sniff out a panther nor anything else. I could lay a chunk of steak in front of that dog and he would not know it was there. I am not sure how to even get him home, as I don’t want him in the saddle with me. I don’t think my horse would much appreciate him, neither. He’s suffering enough from rheumatism without giving a ride to a smelly dog. So it will not be easy to figure out how, but one way or another, I’m for turning back.
Sam did not appear to listen to any of that. She sat working at prickly pear thorns in her hands and did not make any reply at all. However, I was pretty sure of her thoughts.
The Which Way Tree Page 13