Read Across the Rio Colorado Online
Authors: Ralph Compton
Across the Rio Colorado (9 page)
D
espite McQuade's protests, the train remained where it was for two more days, and on the sixth day following the ambush, they moved out. McQuade's newly acquired bay trotted behind the Flanagan wagon. McQuade lay on blankets, while Mary drove.
espite McQuade's protests, the train remained where it was for two more days, and on the sixth day following the ambush, they moved out. McQuade's newly acquired bay trotted behind the Flanagan wagon. McQuade lay on blankets, while Mary drove.
“I didn't know you could handle a team,” said McQuade. “Can you cook too?”
“Not a lick,” she said, with a straight face. “You should have asked some questions before you bought the farm.”
“I reckon,” said McQuade, “but I was just too struck with the looks of the farm. How much longer until we can get some plowing done?”
âUntil I know you're able to stand the shock. I don't want you to have a relapse and die, just when I'm getting used to you.”
“Well, for your sake, I hope it's worth the wait,” McQuade said. “Who's doing the scouting for water, while I'm piled up in here?”
“Ike Peyton and Will Haymes, mostly.”
“What about their wagons?”
“Maggie and Minerva are driving them,” said Mary.
“The
lead
wagons?”
lead
wagons?”
“Of course,” Mary said. “Why not? They handle the teams as well as Ike and Will.”
“Some of those outlaws escaped,” said McQuade. “Suppose they belly-down with their Sharps fifties and blast Maggie and Minerva off those wagon boxes?”
“Ike and Will thought of that,” Mary said, “but Maggie and Minerva wouldn't have it any other way. They want to know, when we're all in this together, why only the men are allowed to be shot. Why is that?”
“We're selfish brutes, set in our ways,” said McQuade.
After supper, Ike and Willâaccompanied by some of the other men, spent an hour with McQuade discussing the trail ahead.
“Looks like Hook's wagons are a day or more ahead of us,” Ike said. “There appears to be plenty of springs, creeks, and rivers in Indian Territory, so water ain't a problem. But we ain't forgot what Chad Guthrie said, about knowin' the trail ahead. What surprises me is Hook bein' so damned anxious to run on ahead of us. Don't he know there's Kiowa in Indian Territory?”
“But for the stampede that flattened his camp, Hook's had virtually no trouble since leaving St. Louis,” McQuade said. “Maybe he's got a mite too much self-confidence. You're right to continue scouting ahead. We must know, firsthand, what we're up against. About all we can expect from Hook is that he'll take some of the edge off the hostile Indians and outlaws ahead of us.”
“Forgot to tell you,” said Will Haymes, “but besides that bay of yours, we rounded up the rest of the hosses belongin' to them dead outlaws. There's twenty-four of them, trottin' along on lead ropes behind our wagons.”
“A job well done,” McQuade said. “What did you do with all those dead
hombres?”
hombres?”
“Just what we figured they'd of done with us,” said Will. “We left âem all where they fell, and when we was ready to move out, we drove around 'em, so's not to spook the teams.”
Taking the lead had wrought some drastic changes in the Hook camp. The saloon tent remained packed in a wagon,
the lanterns and the cook fires were put out well before dark, and the night watch had been doubled. Each morning, Hook sent two riders scouting ahead for water and possible Indian sign. But while his men were quick with their guns, Indian Territory was new to them, and they were uneasy. The second day after Hook's caravan had taken the lead, his advance riders failed to return.
the lanterns and the cook fires were put out well before dark, and the night watch had been doubled. Each morning, Hook sent two riders scouting ahead for water and possible Indian sign. But while his men were quick with their guns, Indian Territory was new to them, and they were uneasy. The second day after Hook's caravan had taken the lead, his advance riders failed to return.
“Creeker,” said Hook, “take Slack with you and see what's happened to Byron and Mook. They should have been back hours ago.”
“I ain't likin' the looks of this,” Slack said, as he and Creeker rode out. “Byron and Mook wasn't afraid of the devil hisself. If something's happened to them ⦔
Something
had
happened to the two gunmen. Creeker and Slack found them facedown on the bank of a creek, their scalps gone and their backs shot full of arrows.
had
happened to the two gunmen. Creeker and Slack found them facedown on the bank of a creek, their scalps gone and their backs shot full of arrows.
“Damn,” said Slack, “what are we goin' to do with 'em?”
“Leave 'em where they lay,” Creeker said. “This is something I want Hook and all the others to see.”
“I got me a gut-feelin' this scouting ahead is about to become damned unpopular,” said Slack. “Let's get the hell out of here. I'm gettin' some nervous twitches betwixt my shoulder blades.”
They took the back-trail at a fast gallop, while the Kiowa who had been observing them mounted his horse and rode away toward the southwest.
“Dead?” Hook shouted. “How could that have happened? I hired you men for your fast guns.”
“Shoot a man in the back,” said Creeker, “and a fast gun don't mean doodly squat.”
“Damn it,” Hook said, “we must have a place to circle the wagons for the night, with water. Why didn't you ride on?”
“No need to,” said Slack. “Byron and Mook had already found us a creek. I reckon we'll have to drag 'em away, so's they don't pollute it.”
Hook's wagons had stopped so that the teams might be
watered, and most of the men had come forth to hear what Creeker and Slack had to report. Now their eyes were on Rufus Hook, and he could see potential rebellion.
watered, and most of the men had come forth to hear what Creeker and Slack had to report. Now their eyes were on Rufus Hook, and he could see potential rebellion.
“Back to your wagons,” Hook shouted.
Reluctantly the men climbed to their wagon boxes and clucked to their teams, every man with a long gun at his feet and a loaded revolver under his belt. When eventually they reached the fatal creek, they stared unbelievingly at the arrow-riddled bodies of Byron and Mook.
“Groat, Porto, Dirk, and Nall, get shovels from the cook wagon and bury those men,” said Hook, “and be quick about it.”
The four men chosen deliberately took their time performing the grim task, allowing the rest of Hook's company to get full benefit from the grisly objects bristling with Kiowa arrows. The women, including Hook's Lora Kirby, all huddled in a single wagon, some of them weeping. Xavier Hedgepith looked over his glasses at the furious Hook.
“I believe,” said Hedgepith, “I advised you against taking the lead. In McQuade's wagons there are well over a hundred armed men. Including yourself, you had thirty-five, now shy Byron and Mook. McQuade, despite the fact you hate his guts, has experience you and your hired guns are lacking, and he has men who will fight for him. Take away your money, and who in this outfit cares a tinker's damn for you?”
“Shut up,” Hook roared. “Damn you, shut up.”
But with the exception of the four men digging graves, most of Hook's outfit had heard Hedgepith's words, and in their eyes, Hook saw the truth of what Hedgepith had said. Creeker was the first to speak.
“I reckon you've about played out your string, Hook. You ain't payin' near enough for a man to risk what happened to them gents layin' over yonder shot full of arrows. I'm of a mind to ride back to St. Louis, takin' with me anybody that's wantin' to go.”
“I'll double every man's wages,” Hook shouted.
“Hook,” said Hedgepith pityingly, “you don't buy off a man with money, when he's afraid for his life. Why don't you swallow your pride, back off up this creek, and wait for McQuade's wagons to take the lead?”
“No,” Hook snarled. “Hedgepith ⦔
But Rufus Hook's angry voice was lost among the shouts and curses of his men. The uproar finally died down enough for individual voices to be heard, and Creeker spoke up.
“Hook, the lawyer's got a handle on it. Hangin' on to McQuade's shirt tail you got a chance. On your own, that's exactly where you're goin' to be. On your own. What good is a hundred a month or five hundred a month to a man who's been shot full of arrows and scalped? Now you back off, allowin' McQuade's bunch to go ahead, or by God, you'll be all by yourself, this time tomorrow. Are the rest of you with me?”
“Hell, yes,” they shouted in a single voice.
“Very well,” said Hook, with poor grace, “take the wagons upstream and circle them. We will remain here until McQuade's wagons take the lead.”
“Double wages?” Slack inquired. “You ain't backin' down on that.”
Hook hesitated, and when his eyes met Hedgepith's, the lawyer shook his head.
“Double wages from here on to Texas,” said Hook with a sigh.
“If we ain't included in them double wages,” said one of Hook's seventeen teamsters, “I got me a hoss, and I'm makin' tracks for St. Louis.”
There were shouts of agreement, and again Rufus Hook found himself uncomfortably caught up in circumstances of his own making.
“Double wages for everybody,” Hook said wearily.
On the seventh day after he had been shot, despite Mary's misgivings, McQuade again rode out ahead of the wagons on his newly-acquired bay. Reaching a suitable
creek, he was immediately intrigued by a pair of fresh graves, and then by the fact that instead of the Hook wagons continuing toward the southwest, they had all been driven upstream. It was enough to warrant some investigation, and McQuade crossed the creek. Circling wide, so as not to be seen, McQuade rode upstream. There, from concealing brush, he observed the Hook wagons. Mounting, he rode back to the newly made graves and continued toward the southwest. Soon he discovered the faint tracks of four unshod horses, and less than a mile beyond, they were joined by a fifth rider. He reined up, it all coming together in his mind. Turning his horse, he rode back to meet the oncoming wagons.
creek, he was immediately intrigued by a pair of fresh graves, and then by the fact that instead of the Hook wagons continuing toward the southwest, they had all been driven upstream. It was enough to warrant some investigation, and McQuade crossed the creek. Circling wide, so as not to be seen, McQuade rode upstream. There, from concealing brush, he observed the Hook wagons. Mounting, he rode back to the newly made graves and continued toward the southwest. Soon he discovered the faint tracks of four unshod horses, and less than a mile beyond, they were joined by a fifth rider. He reined up, it all coming together in his mind. Turning his horse, he rode back to meet the oncoming wagons.
“So Chad Guthrie was right about the Kiowa,” Ike said, when McQuade returned to find the men resting their teams. “What do you make of Hook's outfit just settin' there on the creek?”
“I think they've changed their minds about wantin' to take the lead,” McQuade replied. “From the graves, I'd say the Kiowa got a couple of Hook's advance riders, and it brought on a rebellion among the others.”
“So Hook's waitin' for us to keep the Kiowa busy, while he rides our shirt tails,” said Gunter Warnell. “After all that big talk about us not makin' his deadline, are we goin' to just take this layin' down?”
“Not much else we can do,” McQuade said, “but riding our back-trail in Kiowa country is no assurance of being left alone. The Kiowa aren't fools. They may well pass us by because of our large numbers, while worrying the hell out of Hook's outfit from behind. I don't aim for the Kiowa to take us by surprise, and I'll be out there every day, seeing that they don't.”
McQuade's outfit went on to the creek, and ignoring the Hook camp a mile or so upstream, circled their wagons for the night.
“I think we'll triple our guard from now on,” said McQuade. “We have more than enough men, and enough horses and mules to drive Indians mad. I want all the
animals inside the wagon circle at night. We'll try to end our day while there's still enough light for them to graze for an hour or two before dark. Mostly, we'll have to depend on the grain we're hauling, especially for the mules.”
animals inside the wagon circle at night. We'll try to end our day while there's still enough light for them to graze for an hour or two before dark. Mostly, we'll have to depend on the grain we're hauling, especially for the mules.”
Supper was mostly a silent affair, everybody painfully aware of the nearby graves, and of the possibility of trouble from the Kiowa. Mary refilled McQuade's coffee cup, and he winked at her. She colored a little, and some of the other women smiled, aware that if he was well enough to ride a horse, we was ready to take his marriage seriously. Supper done and the cleanup completed, McQuade rode out to help the men haze the horses and mules into the wagon circle. When the animals had been secured, the first watch posted, and the wagons brought back into formation, McQuade returned to the wagon where Mary waited on the box, and climbed up beside her. It wasn't good dark, and she smiled at him, turning the ring round and round on her finger.
“We don't have to sit on the wagon box anymore,” she said.
“Don't you reckon they're all goin' to know what we're up to, if we start spendin' all our time in the wagon?” McQuade asked.
“I reckon they will,” said Mary. “I've worn this ring for almost two weeks, and all you've seen of me is ⦠what you saw that first day we met.”
“You mean there's more?”
“Chance McQuade, will you stop playing games? Is a wife useful only to worry herself silly that her man's about to be shot dead, to clean his wounds, and pour whiskey down him when he's feverish?”
“No,” said McQuade, “there's more. After the hunt, the Indians allow the squaws to scrape the buffalo hides. I'm part Indian, you know.”
“No,” she said, “I didn't know. Do I have to shoot you, and then go get Maggie to take your britches off?”
“I reckon not,” said McQuade. “Get in the wagon, woman. You can scrape the buffalo hides in the morning before breakfast.”
McQuade rode out at first light, aware that he was probably being watched by the Kiowa. If they had killed two of Hook's men, certainly they wouldn't hesitate to extend to Chance McQuade the same fate. But McQuade found a suitable place to circle the wagons for the night, and returned to meet the train.
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