The Dodge City Trail

by Ralph Compton

  “Dan, we’re needin’ nails and shoes for all the hosses and mules. The bunch of cayuses Chato brought us was near barefooted when we got ‘em, and every dang mule, includin’ my own, is in bad shape.”

  “The whole bunch will have to be reshod by the time we get to Fort Griffin, then,” Dan said.

  “No later,” Silas said. “Fact is, most of ‘em need it now, but I know we ain’t got the shoes or nails. I also know we got no money, even when we get to Fort Griffin.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Dan said. “We still have more than five hundred extra cows, and there’ll be a sutler’s store at the fort. What do you think of us selling maybe fifty cows and buying the things we need?”

  “I think it’s likely the best idee you’ve had so far,” Silas said. “It’s been nine year since I had coffee or sugar. ‘Course we can live without that, but every damn hoss and mule in the outfit will end up crippled if we don’t get shoes and nails, pronto.”

  “Silas, you’ve known these men longer than I have, and I think some of them are a little tired of everything coming from me. Talk to them, and let it be your idea that we swap some cows at the fort. If everybody agrees, I’ll talk to Clay Allison. He’s been to Fort Griffin before, and can likely tell us something about the post and our chances of swapping some beef.”

  “I’ll talk to ‘em, then,” Silas said, “but don’t be takin’ any back talk from some ungrateful varmint that thinks you ain’t doin’ things just right. I’ll talk to them that’s on the first watch, and mebbe hang around and palaver with them that comes on at midnight.”

  “Good,” Dan said. “If everybody agrees, then you can talk to me like it’s your idea.”

  One hundred fifty miles south of Fort Griffin, Texas. Thursday, September 22, 1870.

  The cloud cover gone, the sun rose and quickly dried up all the wet weather streams, but thanks to Dan’s foresight, the herd reached the river by sundown. Dan approached Silas as the old-timer was unhitching the mules from his wagon.

  “I done it like you said for me to,” Silas said, “and ever’body thinks it’s the thing to do. I told ‘em I’d mention it to you, and damn it, I purely don’t feel right, takin’ the credit for what you’d already thought of.” .

  “Makes no difference who thought of it,” Dan said. “The important thing is that we all agree on a means of getting the things we need at Fort Griffin. I’ll talk to Allison and see what I can find out about the sutler’s store.”

  Clay Allison seemed to shun inactivity, and often rode either the first or second watch. This night he rode the first watch, and Dan Ember rode with him.

  “Silas suggested something to me,” Dan said, “and since you’ve been to Fort Griffin before, I’d like your opinion.”

  “You got it, for whatever it’s worth,” Allison replied.

  “We’re needing many things,” Dan said, “especially horse and mule shoes, and nails. We’re thinking of sell maybe fifty head of cows to the sutler’s store. Being Rebs and out of favor with the Federals, do we have a chance?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Allison said. “These stores are political plums handed out to civilians. Old varmint name of Elwood Goldstein’s got the one at Fort Griffin, and all you got to be wary of is that he don’t skin you. I’d say don’t offer to sell him any stock. You do, and he’ll beat your ears down, and then overcharge you at the store. Ask thirty dollars a head, and take it all in trade. But first I’d suggest you meet with the post commander and satisfy him as to your intentions.”

  “I aim to,” Dan said. “We’ve already met some Union soldiers and have been told we’ll likely have to sign papers vowing not to take up our arms against the Union.”

  “It will be to your advantage to sign them,” Allison said, “so Goldstein can’t refuse you guns and ammunition at the store. There’s a new Winchester repeating rifle that shoots seventeen times without reloading. Arm yourselves with them, and you can stand off an army.”

  “Thanks,” Dan said. “If they’re available, we’ll do that.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Allison said. “Griffin’s not that far from Fort Worth, and everything’s wagoned out of there. It’s the more distant forts that may be short, because Quanah and his bunch have looted so many of the supply trains from Fort Worth.”

  “I’m surprised the Comanches aren’t armed with Winchester repeaters,” Dan said.

  “Some of them are,” Allison replied. “It’s reached the point where any arms or ammunition from Fort Worth is so heavily guarded, it’s a dead giveaway. The Comanches know it’s guns, ammunition, or both.”

  Dan said nothing to the rest of the outfit about what Allison had told him. As it was, there would be speculation enough, with everybody expecting a beef sale at the fort. Already, he feared most of them were reacting as Silas originally had, thinking in terms of luxuries rather than necessities. The trail drive continued, often relying on water the elusive Chato and his men had located. Palo Elfego was the only man in the outfit who was contacted, and then only when it was necessary to relay some information about what lay ahead. There was some occasional grumbling about Chato, but Aubin Chambers quickly silenced it. He had not forgotten, and despite his early opposition, he now sided Daniel Ember.

  Thirty-five miles south of Fort Griffin, Texas. Tuesday, October 4, 1870.

  The country became more hilly, and there was live oak, post oak, mesquite, and cedar. The outfit spent the night near an unidentified lake, and from there sighted three substantial elevations.*

  “Twenty miles south of Fort Griffin we’ll come to another lake,” Clay Allison said. “From there we’ll follow the Clear Fork of the Brazos on to the fort.”

  “By my figurin’,” Dan said, “we’re maybe thirty-five miles south of the fort now. Tomorrow night we should reach this lake, and have sure water from there on to Fort Griffin.”

  “That’s it,” Allison said, “unless the fort or the Brazos has been moved since last year.”

  After supper Dan spent a rare hour with Adeline, Denny, and Lenore. It had been a while since they’d had any privacy, and Adeline had insisted on it.

  “I ought to be with the horses, Ma,” Denny complained.

  “You had not ought to be with the horses,” Adeline said. “You sleep with them every night, and Dan’s always with the first watch until midnight. I don’t care what everybody else thinks.”

  “Denny’s spent so much time with the horses, he eats, smells, and thinks like one,” Lenore said.

  Denny threw a boot at her, Dan laughed, and for just a little while they were a family.

  Twenty miles south of Fort Griffin. Wednesday, October 5, 1870.

  Dan found his estimate hadn’t been all that accurate, and darkness was upon them before they reached the south shore of the lake Allison had said they would find, into which flowed the Brazos.*

  “If you don’t make the fort tomorrow,” Allison said, “you’ll be almost within hollerin’ distance.”

  “I wish you weren’t leaving us at the fort,” Lenore said, finally overcoming her shyness. “I’ve gotten used to you, and I’m going to miss you.”

  “I take considerable gettin’ used to, ma’am,” Allison said, sweeping off his hat. “It’ll sadden me when I go, havin’ a pretty lady missing me, but I have some business here. Then I’ll be back on my lonesome, ridin’ back to New Mexico Territory, I reckon.”

  Since the day Allison had joined the drive, the Texans had wondered what was urgent enough to draw the big man all the way from New Mexico Territory. Not until they reached Fort Griffin would they discover the dark side of Clay Allison, a shocking contrast to the gentleman he seemed to be.

  Fort Griffin, Texas. Thursday, October 6, 1870.

  “Rain come soon,” predicted Palo Elfego, looking at the ominous gray mass of clouds far to the west.

  “Our damn luck,” growled Rux Carper. “A lake and the Brazos River waitin’ for us tonight, and we get rained on all day.”
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  “You’ll be crossing the Brazos before you leave Texas,” Allison said, “and then you’ll have somethin’ to be botherin’ you. I hear it runs wide and deep, and except for the Red, it would likely be the worst.”

  “Something to look forward to, I reckon,” Dan said. “Once we reach the fort, we have our work cut out for us. While some of us are shoein’ horses and mules, the rest will be patching wagon boxes.”

  “Then I reckon Shakespeare was right,” Allison said. “There’s small choice in rotten apples.”

  “Is good we fix carreta at fort,” Palo Elfego said. “How we know, when she cross deep water, she no sink?”

  Palo was embarrassed and maybe a little angry when everybody laughed at what he had intended as a serious question. Silas came to his rescue.

  “That’s a fair question, Palo. We’ll be right there on the Brazos, and when we reckon a wagon box is caulked good and tight, we’ll float it across the river and back again. We’ll weigh the wagon with rocks. The Brazos is a mean enough stretch of water that if there’s any holes, the river will find ‘em. We’d just better be lucky enough to find a blessed plenty of pitch at Fort Griffin.”

  “I expect you will,” Allison said. “The military trains have to cross creeks and rivers, and I believe some of the buildings at the fort have flat roofs.”

  The rain wasn’t long in coming. The drive hadn’t been on the trail two hours when the wind began to rise. While there was faraway thunder, there was no lightning, and all they had to contend with was the rain. It swept in from the west, the wind slapping it hard into man and beast. The longhorns wanted to turn their backs to wind and rain and drift with it. Dan pulled some of the flank and swing riders from the west flank of the herd, moving them to the opposite flank. As the wind and rain became more intense, there was a frantic effort among the longhorns to break away from their northern course, turning eastward with the storm.

  “Hit ‘em hard,” Dan shouted, striving to be heard above the bawling of the cattle and the roar of the wind.

  Water had begun to pool in low-lying areas, and Silas managed to keep his wagon to the ridges, the others following. Eventually the wind subsided and the rain became a steady, monotonous downpour. Without the wind slamming the rain into their flanks, the longhorns had no objection to trailing north. Their frustrated bawling ceased, and they slogged through hock-deep water without protest.

  “This ain’t bad,” Skull Kimbrough bawled to anybody who cared to listen. “Is they any of you Tejano cow nurses that’d ruther have the hot sun?”

  Riding drag, the women hunched over in their sodden clothes, following the herd. Lenore rode next to Adeline, and when the girl spoke, her teeth chattered.

  “When we get to the fort, I hope we can get some warmer clothes. Cold as it is now, what will it be like when we’re farther north?”

  “Our behinds will be frozen to our saddles,” said Amy Wilder, who had overheard.

  “Nothing’s been said about what we’re going to try to get at the sutler’s store,” Adeline said, “except that I know we need shoes for the horses and mules, and nails. I’m not sure, but I believe Dan’s waiting to see whether or not we can sell some cows. If we can, and can raise enough money, then I believe we’ll all have a chance to get warm clothes and other things. That is, if the men all agree.”

  “Damn the men,” said Hattie Kuykendall, who had ridden close enough to take part in the conversation. “There’s not a man in this outfit that’s any wetter or more miserable than I am. I know we need shoes for horses, mules, and nails, but after that’s been bought, I’m havin’ me some gloves, and some long-handled wool underwear.”

  “There is no such garment for a woman,” Odessa Chambers said.

  “That’s what you think,” Hattie replied. “I’m wearing Sloan’s Levi’s and shirt now, and I’d be wearin’ his longhandles if he had any. If he’s got the savvy God give a prairie dog, he’ll get some at the fort, and I’ll get a pair of them.”

  They all laughed at the salty woman, and it seemed to relieve some of the misery. The day wore on, and in the early afternoon the rain let up and the sky began to clear. Two hours before sunset, the sun was out, and not a rider complained. The warmth was welcome, and everybody’s spirits rose. Ahead of them, seeming so close they could touch it, was a rainbow. Its red, blue, and gold seemed to touch the earth at the west end, while the other arced into the remaining clouds.

  “That’s off the lake,” Allison said. “We’ll reach the fort before dark.”

  “I think we’ll wait until tomorrow before riding in,” Dan said.

  “That would likely be best,” Allison said. “I doubt the post commander would see you before then, and I was serious when I said you should talk to him before going to the store.”

  “I’m taking your advice,” Dan said, “and I’m obliged. Do you aim to ride in tonight?”

  “No, I’ll wait until morning,” Allison said. “The hornbre I’m looking for is a buffalo hunter, and tonight he’ll likely be in the saloon in the back of the sutler’s place, sloshed to the eyeballs. When him and me talk, I want him cold sober.”

  It was the closest Allison had come to revealing his business at Fort Griffin, and again Dan wondered what lay ahead. As Allison had predicted, the trail drive was within two or three miles of the fort before sundown.

  “This is as far as we go tonight,” Dan told them. “Since all of you are agreeable to selling some beef, I’ll ride in tomorrow and see if we can. I don’t aim to ride alone, but I don’t think it’s wise for twenty men to walk into the post commander’s office. Likewise, we don’t need or want the whole outfit haggling with this Elwood Goldstein over the price of beef. I aim to ask thirty dollars a head, not in cash, but in trade. Does anybody object to that?”

  “I ain’t objectin’ to it,” Rux Carper said, “but who decides what we’re taking in trade from the store?”

  “We’ll all have a say in that,” Dan replied, “after we’ve sold the cows and know we have some credit. How much we get, how much any of you receive, depends entirely upon how many cows we can sell. I’m suggesting fifty head.”

  “We got extra cows,” Carper said. “Why not a hundred head?”

  “Because that’s three thousand dollars in credit,” Dan said, “and we may not be able to get that much. We’ll consider it, if it looks like Goldstein might be interested. Now, which four of you want to ride in with me in the morning?”

  “You don’t need us,” Silas said. “You done said we’ll have a choice in choosin’ what we take in trade, and you’ll be tellin’ us how much credit we got, if we get any.”

  “Nevertheless,” Dan said, “I’d prefer that some of you go with me. I’m not of a mind to have somebody disagree with whatever deal I can work out, and I think we can best avoid that if some of you are there to see and hear what takes place.”

  He had them in an embarrassing position. He knew some of them wanted to go, but to do so would reveal an obvious lack of confidence in their trail boss. Surprisingly, Wolf Bowdre came up with an acceptable solution.

  “Silas,” Bowdre said, “you been neck deep in this from the start. You cleaned out your store, usin’ your goods and provisions to our benefit. Why don’t you ride in tomorrow with Dan, and the rest of us will accept whatever the two of you can work out. Now, is there anybody that don’t agree with that?”

  Nobody objected, but Dan suspected there were several who would have liked to. It was a way out of a situation he had dreaded, and he nodded his thanks to Bowdre.

  “I’ll go, then,” Silas said. “If we sell some cows, get some credit, we can all set down and do some talkin’ and some figurin’. We’ll figure out the things we got to have, such as hoss and mule shoes, and nails. That done, I reckon we’d best think about some warm coats, gloves, and such, since we’re travelin’ to the north country. And we can’t overlook the need for guns and ammunition neither. Finally, with whatever’s left, maybe we can add to our grub. When I say
that, I don’t mean we do it one family at a time. Up to now we been eatin’ our beef and beans out of a common pot. I say we go on doin’ that, but maybe add some flour, some meal, some sugar, and maybe even some coffee. Now that’s how I feel. If there’s anybody disagrees with that, then I’m backin’ out, and you can send somebody else with Dan, not that he’ll need you.”

  They all shouted their acceptance, even the women, and Silas said no more. Some of the men went a step further, making it a point to voice their approval to Dan and Silas. One of these was Wolf Bowdre. Generally the women kept silent, allowing the men to do their talking, but not this time. They gathered around like a covey of excited birds, and when Dan’s eyes met Adeline’s, he saw relief there. Dan felt as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, for not only had they all agreed on something for the good of the outfit, but he seemed to have regained some of the trust he feared he had lost. Now all they had to do was convince the post commander they had no intention of resuming the war against the Union, and to arrange for the sale of some beef to Elwood Goldstein at the sutler’s store. Their difficulties were far from over, for much of the long trail still lay ahead, but Dan Ember believed they were finally coming into their own as an outfit. And that was all he asked.

  After breakfast, Dan, Silas, and Clay Allison saddled their horses and rode upriver to the fort. Even from a distance Dan could see that it was much larger than he’d expected. Soldiers walked the parapets above the log walls, and the massive double gate that faced the south was actually two vertical sections of the log wall that swung inward. Even as the trio neared the fort, the gates swung open and half a dozen men exited. North of the fort, along the Brazos, mules and oxen grazed. Dan counted a dozen wagons, most of them with high boxes, loaded with weathered buffalo bones.

  “You’re in luck,” Allison said. “They’ve killed off all the buffalo in these parts, else the wagons would be piled high with buffalo hides. When there was plenty of buffalo meat, Goldstein bought it for three or four cents a pound, and would have refused your beef. Now, I think he’ll deal with you.”