Devil's Canyon (14 page)

Durham wasn't in the least disturbed, nor did he appear angry. He laughed, and then he spoke.

“I'll endure your bad judgment for a while, Duval, and when I go, it'll be my choice, not yours.”

He then mounted his horse and rode back beyond the fifth wagon.

“Damn him,” said Mamie, drawing her Colt, “I'll fix him.”

“I don't think so,” Shanghai said, seizing the weapon. “You fixed him last night.”

“Back to your wagons,” said Faro. “We're movin' out.”

Mamie mounted her horse and Shanghai handed her the Colt. She colored, refusing to look him in the eye. Faro had again taken the reins, and Levi Collins rode ahead, as the five wagons again rumbled westward.

The Sevier River, Southwestern Utah.
August 20, 1870
.

The trio of besieged miners awaiting the return of Levi Collins were forced to take stock of their precarious situation.

“Since we agreed to stay here and watch over the claim, things have changed,” Isaac Puckett pointed out. “We wasn't plannin' on fightin' the Utes every blessed day and usin' up all our ammunition, and we wasn't expectin' it to take Levi so long.”

“I agree,” said Felix Blackburn. “These are things that Levi and none of us expected, so none of us are at fault, except for countin' too strong on things we couldn't be sure of. We don't know, for starters, if Levi ever made it to Santa Fe alive, or if he did, whether he was able to find teamsters to freight our stuff in.”

“Yeah,” Josh Snyder agreed, “and if he did, they may be fightin' Utes all the way. We can't set here until we're down to our last shells. We'll have to run for it.”

“I think you're right,” said Puckett. “Felix?”

“Much as I hate to give it up,” Blackburn said, “I reckon we'd better go while we've still got some ammunition. We won't have to worry about the Utes takin' the claim, and if we do meet Levi, we'll have ammunition to fight our way back in. If Levi didn't make it, then we still got a small chance of gettin' out of here alive.”

“What about the mules?” Snyder asked.

“We'll have to leave them,” said Blackburn. “In either case, we won't need them. If we meet Levi with wagons, we'll be dependin' on them. If we don't, and I get out of here with my hair, I won't be comin' back, gold or no gold.”

“Neither will I,” his companions said in a single voice.

“So far, the Utes ain't bothered us at night,” Blackburn said, “and that leads me to believe they ain't watchin' us that close. Soon as it's dark, we'll make our break, walkin' the horses as far as we can.”

“I think we'd be better off travelin' at night and hidin' out durin' the day,” said Josh Snyder.

“I don't agree with that,” Blackburn replied. “This is the damndest canyon country I've ever seen. In the dark, you could ride off a rim and fall a hundred feet.”

“True enough,” said Puckett, “but can we afford to devote the nights to hidin' out? If we slip away tonight and get safely away, an hour after first light, them Utes
will know we ain't here. Then they'll be after us like hell wouldn't have it.”

“Then we'd better travel all night, takin' it easy on our horses,” Snyder said. “Then when it's light enough to see, we ride as hard and fast as we can.”

“That's how I see it,” said Puckett, “and we'd better keep on doin' it until we get out of reach of these Utes, or until we meet Levi.”

“I'm outvoted,” Blackburn said. “Anyway, I reckon I wasn't considerin' the chance the Utes would come after us. There'll be a full moon for the next several nights, if the clouds will hold off. Today, let's hide our tools as best we can. We can't depend on our horses carryin' anything but us and the little grub that's left.”

“If we all look busy, the varmints will suspect somethin',” said Snyder.

“Then we can't all look busy,” Blackburn said. “You and Puckett, stayin' among rocks along this river, look for places to cache our tools. I'll fire just enough so's they can't get within sight of you to see what you're doin'.”

“With only one of us shootin', they'll know somethin's up,” said Puckett.

“Maybe,” Blackburn said, “but it's a chance we'll have to take. It might just work in our favor, if they reckon we're low on ammunition. That would account for only one of us shootin' at them.”

As soon as Puckett and Snyder made a run for the nearby river, arrows began zipping all around them. The barrage ceased when Blackburn fired rapidly into the brush from where the arrows had come. The banks of the Sevier were a jumble of stones that might have
been scattered like pebbles by the hand of the Almighty. In places, it was a dozen feet down to the swiftly running water. Once Puckett and Snyder were over the edge, they could scarcely be seen, unless the observer was standing on the bank. Eventually the Utes would cross the river at some point and perhaps work their way near to the farthest bank, but by then, Puckett and Snyder should have accomplished their mission. Blackburn jacked more shells into his Winchester and prepared for the next barrage of Ute arrows.

*   *   *

“Collins,” said Faro, “there's good water and graze here. I think it's time we laid over a day and had a serious look at that bunch somewhere ahead of us. We don't dare wait long enough for them to make the first move.”

“I like the way you think, Duval,” Collins replied. “If they strike first, with their far greater number, then we're goners.”

“Then we'll ride at first light,” said Faro, “and since we don't know where they are, or how well they're dug in, we may not be able to get close until after dark. That means we may be late returning. Dallas, while I'm gone, you're in charge. It would be a good time for that bunch of Utes somewhere on our back trail to slip in, with mischief on their minds. If you catch more than two under the same wagon at the same time, then you have my permission to punish them in any way you see fit.”

The McCutcheons didn't have the courage to look him in the eye, but Hal Durham laughed.

“I'll help,” Tarno Spangler said.

He had his Bowie in his right hand, running his left thumb along the razor-sharp blade. He grinned at Durham, and the gambler's laugh dribbled away and died.

*   *   *

The three miners waited until moonrise before attempting to escape. Leading their saddled horses, they made their way south, along the rocky banks of the Sevier. When they were well away from their former camp, they veered to the southeast, the shortest route by which they could return to Santa Fe. The way they expected Levi Collins and the wagons to come. If Levi was still alive, and there
were
any wagons. They stopped to rest as the first gray light of dawn crept into the eastern sky.

“God, my feet are killin' me,” Josh Snyder said.

“So are mine,” said Isaac Puckett. “I feel like I've come at least fifty miles.”

“More like twenty,” Felix Blackburn said, “but in a few minutes, it'll be light enough for us to mount up and ride. But we're still not far enough away that the Utes can't ride us down, if they're quick to learn we're gone.”

“I can't believe we've come this far,” Snyder said.

“Don't crow too loud,” said Puckett. “Just when you begin praisin' lady luck, that's when the old gal kicks you off a canyon wall to the rocks below.”

“Mount up,” Blackburn said. “Even in this rough country, we can cover seventy miles before dark, as long as we rest the horses.”

They rode on, thankful as the miles fell behind
them. After an hour at a slow gallop, they reined up to rest the horses.

“Oh, damn the luck,” said Blackburn, his eyes on their back trail.

Snyder and Puckett followed his gaze and their hearts sank. On a ridge three hundred yards behind them were six mounted Indians.

*   *   *

“Fortune was with us as we rode to that other Ute camp,” Levi Collins said. “What do you expect at this one?”

“A lot tighter security, for one thing,” said Faro. “These Utes, likely throwing in with a white renegade, may be on the outs with the rest of the Utes. That means they'll keep a close watch, especially at night. This bunch, with a white man leading them, may not be dependent on bow and arrows. They could be armed with Winchesters, making it extremely dangerous for other Utes to attack them.”

“So other Utes, armed with bow and arrows, would have to get in very close before they would have a chance,” Collins said.

“Yes,” said Faro, “and that generally means the defenders will have established a camp that's all but impossible to approach in daylight. Indians—when there are large numbers of them—tend to become overconfident, like those who captured Mamie and Odessa. But if we're dealing with a white renegade, after dark, he may ring the camp with enough men to hold off an army.”

“How are we to find their camp without them first seeing us?” Collins asked.

“We'll follow their trail for a while,” said Faro. “Once we're sure of the direction they are taking, we'll swing wide and approach them from a flank. There's no wind this early, but there should be later today. Tonight, for sure. We can't afford to ride past them, for that would have them downwind from us. We may have to travel a great distance afoot, so our horses don't nicker and give us away.”

“I can understand the need for that,” Collins said, “but if we're discovered…”

“Then we'll wish we'd gambled and taken the horses with us,” said Faro.

Soon they reached the place where the Utes had obviously captured Slade and his men. They reined up, studying the tracks, and then warily followed them west.

The day of rest afforded the teamsters while Faro and Collins scouted ahead wasn't all that restful. Despite their professed hatred of Hal Durham, Mamie and Odessa McCutcheon spent most of their time with the gambler, and he seemed to have charmed them all over again. Dallas Weaver kept an uneasy eye on them, and he wasn't surprised when, at noon, Odessa approached.

“Mamie and me aim to take a dip in the creek. That is, if you got no objection.”

“None,” Dallas said, “but let this be a warning. If you get yourselves carried off to an Indian camp again, I'm goin' to recommend you be left there.”

“Durham's goin' with us,” Odessa said.

“Then the same warning applies to him,” said Dallas. “Tell him I said so.”

She stalked off without a word, and the three of them headed down the creek where there was tree cover along the banks.

“If that don't rip the rag off the bush,” Tarno Spangler said. “After all the varmint's done to 'em, they trot
him along to watch, while they get naked and splash in the creek.”

“I personally think Durham's a slick-dealing, snake-bellied, low-down bastard,” said Dallas, “but I don't think he's done a thing to that pair of brass-plated females he wasn't invited to do. I can't speak for Faro, but far as I'm concerned, he can do anything to them he's of a mind to, includin' slittin' their throats.”

“Amen,” Shanghai Taylor said. “There's times when Faro's so damn forgivin' and tolerant, I believe he missed his callin'. He should of been a parson, in a boiled shirt, black britches, and claw-hammer coat.”

But the troublesome trio returned unharmed. Mamie and Odessa didn't seem the least ashamed of their conduct, while Durham's smug expression rubbed the teamsters the wrong way.

“I know what Faro said,” Tarno Spangler growled, “but come dark, we ought to force the three of 'em under the same wagon.”

“Come dark, I don't care a damn what happens to them,” said Dallas. “If Faro and Collins haven't returned, you, Shanghai, and me will have our work cut out for us. We'll have to stand watch. We can't count on Durham for but one thing, and that's no-account to anybody but the McCutcheons.”

*   *   *

“I wonder if that's all of 'em?” Josh Snyder said, as he eyed the mounted Indians.

“My God, that's enough,” said Isaac Puckett. “They're two to our one.”

“This is their country, so we can't outride them,” Felix Blackburn said. “They'll flank us and ride us
down. If we can stay ahead of them until we reach cover, I'll fall back and maybe get a couple of them from ambush.”

“But the others will surround you,” said Snyder.

“I'm counting on that,” Blackburn said. “With bow and arrows, they have to work in close. You and Isaac stay out of sight until they start movin' in. Then you cut loose with your Winchesters. It's our only chance.”

“We can see six of them,” said Puckett. “That don't mean there ain't more.”

“A chance we have to take,” Blackburn replied. “They're waitin' for us to make our move. Let's ride.”

The three kicked their horses into a fast gallop, and with a chorus of whoops, the Utes took up the chase. The pursued galloped through a small stand of trees, and while temporarily hidden, Blackburn took his Winchester and rolled out of the saddle. Puckett caught the reins of his horse without the animal breaking stride. Blackburn dropped down behind a stone upthrust and readied his Winchester. When the hard-driving Utes appeared, he dropped the first two. The remaining four split up, two riding to his right, and two riding to his left. They would attempt to flank him, knowing that Blackburn had no cover except from a frontal attack. Almost immediately, there was the bark of a distant rifle, as Blackburn's companions bought in. Following a second shot, there was silence. The next sound Blackburn heard was the thump of horse's hooves, as his companions returned.

“We picked off two more of 'em,” Puckett said, “and it looks like there was only six of 'em. The other two lit a shuck back the way they come.”