“Mister, git away from my hosses! You ain’t got no business a-messin’ with them!” one of the men yelled.
Nolan had got the information he had wanted. “These hosses are mighty thirsty. I wuz just a-doin’ you a favor givin’ them some water.” Standing next to the pack-mule, he ran his hand under the pack, and he felt the raw back of the mule. “When’s the last time you took the saddle off these hosses?” Nolan asked.
“Don’t see that’s none of your business now git away from my hosses,” the trapper said.
Nolan sized up the man doing the talking and said, “Whar you boys from anyway? Only a tenderfoot would treat such fine animals so cruel.” The rest of the men in the settlement stopped what they were doing. They watched the men from around the campfire and sensed trouble.
Nolan had stepped around where no one could get behind his back. His coat was open, and as he stepped from behind the horses, he had both of his pistols hanging at his side.
Seeing the guns in Nolan’s hands, one of the men stood and said, “Bedewing, it looks like it’s time we be a-movin’ on.” Two of the men sitting around the campfire rose and started to step away from the fire.
“You can go if you didn’t come with this feller. But if you did, then just keep your seat and stay warm by the fire,” Nolan raised his voice for all in the camp to hear. “You all better listen to me! I been a-trackin’ a man what done hurt two children to git these three horses and pack. Anyone want to back his word just step in when the dance starts. I intend to make this feller tell me what he done to them children or skin him alive, one piece at a time.”
The two men at the fire dropped the whiskey jug and stepped away from the man facing Nolan. “We never seen him a-fore today. He rode in on them horses this mornin’ a-fore noon,” said one of the men. A man stopped notching a log and moved over a little closer to the three men.
“That’s a fact! These two came in here from the north and that man came from the south this mornin’,” another man said. Then the two men mounted horses and rode out of the valley.
The look of Nolan kept everyone perfectly still knowing this was no time to move or scratch an itch. “Seein’ I don’t know any of you, I would appreciate none of you fellers a-movin’ so much as a muscle until this man gives me the information I need,” he said. Nolan replaced a handgun in his belt and pulled a long blade knife from his boot. “Now, I will ask you one time only. Then if you don’t answer me true--” Nolan never got to finish the sentence before the man pointed his finger at him and shouted.
“I bought them hosses fair and square!” he shouted.
Suddenly Nolan’s left-hand gun spat fire and the man grabbed where his left ear had been. “You didn’t let me finish; I wuz a-goin’ to say--I will shoot your ears off first. Now, whar be the children?”
“I don’t know what you are a-talkin’--” again, Nolan’s left-hand gun roared and the small finger in the man’s left hand lost a joint.
“I left them alive,” the man yelled, holding his left hand.
At that revelation, the men around the camp moved closer, and one of them said, “Mister, you sayin’ this polecat done hurt some children?”
“That’s what I’m a-sayin’,” Nolan said. “Now, he is a-goin’ to tell all of it and he better not leave out the slightest detail.”
Fear and pain loosened the man’s tongue. “I didn’t do harm to them kids. I just wanted that big red horse. I followed them as they left the train and took the hoss from the boy,” he said grimacing in pain.
“You could have left the pack and the other horse. The boy is wilderness smart. They could have survived iffin’ you would have done that. A blizzard done hit that side of the mountain. With the provisions in that pack, they could have made it. Whar did you leave them?” Nolan asked.
“They were by the third overpass out of Yellow Rock Station. There is a cave in the side of the mountain big enough to live in for a while. I’m shore they are just fine,” the man said.
“Are you a-lyin’ to me?” Nolan asked.
“No, them kids were just fine when I left them!” the man yelled.
“You are a-wearin’ Danny’s gun. You want to use it?” Nolan asked pointedly.
Quickly the man unbuckled the gun and let it fall to the ground. The four men tied his hands behind him and tied him to the corral fence, while the crippled man talked to Nolan. “Out here, no one hurts a child. Leavin’ them stranded in this weather is the same as a-killin’ them,” the man said.
Nolan stripped the saddles from the horses and looked at the men and said, “I need to buy a horse from you. If them children are still alive, I need to travel fast and these horses have sores on their backs.”
“Well, sir, now I’ll swap you that there pack mule of mine for your pack mule, but you shore ain’t a-gittin’ the best of the deal. I found this ornery critter out on Bald Ridge. I thought I had something until I brung him home, and now I wish I had left him out thar,” the crippled man said.
“I know that mule,” Nolan said. “He is a sorry excuse for a pack mule, but if he’s all you can part with, I’ll take him.”
The crippled man stood looking at his corral. “That paint will git you whar you need to go. He has a lot of bottom, but I shore would suffer to let him go,” he stated.
“It sounds to me you have a fond attachment to that animal,” Nolan said while stripping the saddles and pack from the horses.
“Yes, I shorely do and I would suffer to let him go cheap,” he said.
Nolan looked across the corral at the paint. “I’m a-givin’ you a mighty fine pack mule and a-takin’ a-beatin’ with that hard-headed mule. Seein’ how I’m a-doin’ you a favor by removin’ that jackass from your valley, I am obliged to offer you ten dollars for that paint,” Nolan said.
“Truly, you done gone and hurt my feelin’s offerin’ me ten for that fine animal,” the man on crutches said.
“The paint may be worth more, but what I am a-doin’ for you by a-takin’ that jinxed donkey away from this valley is worth the difference,” Nolan said.
“What you mean by jinxed?” the crippled man asked.
“Well it might have seemed a might strange that you found a good pack mule out there in the wilderness, but the man that owned him and myself done jumped on a-movin’ train in the middle of the night to git away from that animal,” Nolan said as he rolled his eyes and squinted at the crippled man. “Now what trapper will leave a good mule like that?” Nolan asked. Rubbing his bearded chin, he asked, “Since that mule has been in your valley has anythin’ bad happened?”
The man swallowed hard and exclaimed, “I done broke my lag and been crippled ever since.”
“So you say!” Nolan exclaimed.
The crippled man quickly stated, “You can have the Paint for ten just you take that devil mule with you when you go.” Two men helped Nolan pack the mule and saddle the paint horse.
“What we goin’ to do with that feller?” one of the men asked.
Leading the horses to the watering trough, Nolan said, “I’ve already marked him, but so’s he is known I want you to brand his forehead with an X and let him go. He left a six-year-old girl and her twelve-year-old brother out in the wilderness after a-takin’ their horses and provisions. If I find them dead, there won’t be a place on earth he can run to git away from me. I’ll be a-comin’ back and won’t stop chasin’ him till I send him to hell for what he done.”
“Well, I rather hang him, but iffin’ you say so we will brand him and let him go. Anyone who sees him will know him by the brand, and the missin’ fingers and ear you done shot off,” said the man.
Nolan looked at the sky and said, “Run him out of your camp without so much as a weapon or blanket, that’s how he left the children. Tell every trapper that comes through here what he done.”
“Elam Franklin is back thar a-lookin’ for them children. The boy Danny is mighty resourceful, but I’m a-fearin’ what I will find when I catch up to them,�
� Nolan said.
“You said Elam Franklin is out a-lookin’ for them children?” the man asked.
Amazed Nolan realized the train had carried the tales of Elam Franklin through the wilderness. Looking at the man tied to the fence post, Nolan said, “That’s a fact them kids belong to Elam Franklin and I will be hard-pressed to git to you before Elam does.”
The man on crutches stood by Nolan as he tightened the cinch, and without looking back at the men standing around, he said, “Brand him and git him out of my valley a-fore I change my mind and hang him! Elam Franklin war a friend of mine.”
Nolan fastened his eyes on the crippled man and asked, “Wuz you one of the three men with Elam at Little Deer Crick a year or two ago when Elam war no more than a lad?” Nolan asked, knowing there was never a Little Deer Creek incident.
Rolling his cud, the crippled man spat and looked at Nolan and said, “I war thar and Elam war no more than a bar cub.”
“Then I take my hat off to you and go up this valley a-glad I met you this day. Elam from a pup always rode the straight and narrow bein’ more than fair even to those what treated him untrue and never takin’ a drink of licker and such. Honorable even as a boy,” Nolan said. Riding away, Nolan chuckled to himself and would have liked to hear the cripple man spin his yarn, but he had a task to do.
The snow came as Nolan rode away from the valley. It was blowing against his back as if to increase the urgency of his travel. Fine white powder stuck to his buffalo robe and covered the horses. This was not a time to travel, but he had no choice. He knew of a river to the east that he had traveled long ago with trails south that horses could go. They should get him back to the tracks in half the time. By moonlight, he rode through a white land and at midnight, he dismounted from the tired paint and walked until sunup. Banner’s back had no sores, so he switched the saddle to him. By noon the following day, he was back to the rail lines. The wind was relentless, and he needed shelter fast for himself and the horses. By his judgment, he should be within miles of the cave where the children should be.
C26 A Worried Mind
Jericho Dawson led the three Pinkerton men and Bull Curry through a timbered mountain pass. The storm had hit and it was bitter cold. This country was not new to Jericho, and even with the sudden winter storm, he was in his element.
“Jericho, this wind is cutting me in half. How much further until we can set up a winter camp and get out of this cold?” Shiver shouted over the sound of the howling wind.
Without saying a word, Jericho motioned for the men to follow him into a stand of trees that offered a good windbreak. “Shiver, this storm is long from being over. It’s not letting up. On the other side of this forest, there is a valley that will take you to the Yellow Rock Station. I want you to turn back and take the horses with you. They will not do me any good, just make my task more difficult. I will take the pack mule with the supplies and go it alone.”
“We are willing to continue, Jericho. We didn’t come out here just to turn back when the going got tough!” Shiver said.
“The storm will be the death of all of us if you don’t listen to me. I know how to stay alive. The best thing you can do for the kids is come back after the storm passes. I will depend on you for that,” Jericho said.
Bull Curry moved next to the Pinkerton men and said, “I know there is no quit in you men, but Jericho is right. I will continue with him. I have weathered many a storm on the great plains. It would increase our chances of failure if we all try and fight our way through this storm. You are the backup we need to ensure we find the kids and get them safely to their mother,” Bull said.
“If that is what you think is best, we will head for the station. Mind you, as soon as the storm breaks, we will be headed straight down the tracks looking for you,” Shiver said.
Jericho set the Pinkerton men out on a trail to the station that would be hard to lose. “Shiver, you will be at the station before dark,” he said.
Within a few minutes, the Pinkertons had disappeared in the blowing snow. “Bull, those old boys are city born and bred. If we took them along, they would get us all killed. Let’s get going. The railroad tracks are about five miles or so that-a-way,” Jericho said.
ααααααα
Two days earlier, a cold, icy wind blew across the mountain tops bringing steady sleet that turned the forest into an ice palace with icicles hanging from every limb. Elam had backtracked the horses until the storm hit. Then it was blind hope as he moved along the rails. Over a layer of ice, a foot of snow piled quickly along the tracks making footing slippery and forward progress slow.
Several times he slipped and fell. Occasionally, he would wipe the snow and ice away at a trestle finding the horse tracks making sure the children were still in front of him. His beard was covered with ice and snow and he wavered in his tracks. In this blizzard, he had come as far as he could. Now, he must seek shelter or he would die and not help anyone. He went to a trestle and decided to get out of the blizzard for a while and rest.
Shoving his heavy pack beneath the trestle, he crawled behind it to get out of the wind. Elam lay there wrapped in a heavy buffalo robe listening to the howling wind. His rest was short-lived as he could not rest knowing the kids were out in this cold weather. The country was now completely buried in a foot of white powder and more falling. Visibility was only a few feet in the driving snow, so it would be hard to locate a good campsite. Looking around the landscape, he decided the horses would have come around the low ground on the side where he now stood and up the grade. It should not be hard to backtrack them over the most likely path around the trestle. Making his way to the bottom of the grade, Elam looked up at the rails above him. For a few minutes, he walked back and forth until he finally decided that he had found the most logical path for the horses to climb back on to the tracks.
Elam went down on his knees and dug at the thick snow. There was the proof! The horses had torn the ground up climbing up the grade. The boot tracks of the man were also evident, but no children. Walking the path of least resistance, he made his way around the trestle and along the stream at the bottom of a gully. The stream flowed clear and strong. There was evidence of the horses crossing in the bottom of the stream. With bloodshot eyes and a tormented mind from worry, Elam found a shallow spot where he could cross by jumping to a rock in the middle of the stream. Exhausted, he crossed and removed his pack. Elam sat down on a rock and the snow quickly piled up against him. He could go no further. Knowing the children could not last the night in this storm, he bowed his head in despair. Surely, he had failed, sliding from the rock to his knees, he prayed, ‘Lord, help me--surely this has been the plea from sinful men like me throughout the ages. For the children and their mother’s sake, please help me find them.’
Exhausted Elam lay prone in the snow for a time before he realized he was covered thoroughly. It was a struggle for him to get to his hands and knees again. Having an overwhelming thirst, he crawled to the stream and lay face down, drinking the clear cold water. Raising his head slowly, he looked into the clear water. Below the surface, there was a boot print--a small print. It was Danny’s boot print. Frantically he brushed away the snow searching the soft soil at the stream’s edge. He built in his mind a picture of where the children had come and gone, time and time again to this very spot to fetch water.
Elam staggered weakly to his feet and hefted the heavy pack. Moving back along the direction of the mountainside, he saw a dark spot on the side of the snow-covered rocks. Moving carefully, he found a cave entrance. His heart raced as he called the children’s name. The black hole yawned at him and dread coursed through his mind as again he called their names. There was only the mournful wail of the wind and he knew the temperature was far below freezing. He was too late.
Inside the cave it was dark and cold. The only remnant of a fire was the smell of the smoked rocks. Elam shed his pack and quickly lit one of the candles that were part of his supplies. His tear-filled eyes slowly adju
sted to the dim light and he saw the children against the back wall . Their faces grey and cold lying wrapped in Mary’s dirty and tattered blanket, the only blanket they had left. To keep as warm as possible, Danny had scraped dirt with his hands from the cave floor and piled against their bodies.
Elam quickly removed his buffalo robe and covered the children. With renewed vigor, he went about collecting all the firewood he could from a deadfall outside the cave. In a few minutes, the flames were high and illuminated the cave. Touching their cold faces, Elam spoke softly to them, “Danny, Mary, please hear me--I have brung’ your ma home for you. She is a-waitin’ for you--please hear me.” His big heart broke, and tears ran down his face as he sobbed, holding the small hands of the children, Lord, I will give my life for these little ones, take me instead. Falling back against the cave wall, he collapsed from exhaustion and slept. Outside the cave, a pack of wolves sniffed the air and peered into the opening as darkness fell.
C27 A Bitter Cold
Bent low against the wind Nolan led the horses along the tracks with the ribbons of steel his only compass in the blowing snow. The storm had turned into a constant curtain of white blowing horizontally, piling drifts high across the mountains. The third bridge from Yellow Rock Station passed through his mind over and over. In this blowing snow, Nolan would never know if he was at the right bridge, so he had checked each trestle. Always taking note of the country he passed through would not help him this time. He could only hope that the next trestle ahead was the right one. The horses were tired and moved wearily along, man and beast in need of food and shelter. They were at the limit of their endurance. Weary and exhausted, Nolan’s mind began to wander. His eyes hurt from the blinding white landscape. Pulling on the reins of the hesitant horses, he slipped and fell, cutting his hand on a sharp rock under the snow and ice.
Nolan lay on the frozen earth between the tracks holding his cold hurting hand. Caution entered his brain and wearily he staggered to a standing position. He knew he must keep his focus and find the cave. Moving slowly along, he had no idea how far ahead the next trestle was. Now his mind was beginning to play tricks on him. Ahead he saw a trestle, but he was never able to reach it. For another hour, he moved along from time to time. He would shake his head to clear the snow and ice from his frozen face and clear the cobwebs from his foggy mind.
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