Devil's Canyon (19 page)

“We're pretty sure the five of them are outlaws who had been trailing us,” said Faro. “One of them got his hands on a piece of the gold ore Levi showed us, and then they had the misfortune to get themselves captured by those renegades. I'm pretty sure four of them escaped, and I reckon somewhere along the way, we'll have to face up to them.”

“What of those white renegades?” Dallas asked.

“There were three,” said Blackburn. “Hueso and a dozen Utes gunned down another party of Utes that was after us. The other two—Perro Caro and Sangre—seemed to have more to say about the order of things, but Dog Face seemed to have the final say.”

Once they could see the distant bulk of the wagons
in the starlight, Faro reined up and the others reined beside and behind him.

“Hello the camp,” Faro said softly. “Faro Duval here.”

“Durham,” said a voice. “Come on.”

Faro leading, they rode in and dismounted. To the surprise of them all, Durham and the McCutcheons were armed with their Winchesters.

“Dallas,” Faro said, “dig a fire pit. With two wounded men, and Tarno having lead burns, we'll need hot water. Mamie, you and Odessa bring some blankets for Collins and his pard, Isaac Puckett.”

To his eternal surprise, the McCutcheons did as bidden. Faro went to one of the five wagons and returned with a jug of whiskey. This he passed to Collins, who in turn, handed it to Puckett.

“Sorry you have to risk a fire because of Levi and me,” said Puckett.

“With a fire pit,” Faro said, “it's not that risky. The wind's out of the west, so if the smoke reaches some Utes, it'll be them to the east of us, and they already know we're here.”

“Since we'll have a fire anyway,” said Mamie, “what about food?”

“If it won't be too much trouble,” Blackburn said. “Isaac, Josh, and me ain't had a bite of anything but jerked beef in days.”

“We'll cook up somethin',” said Mamie.

“Put on enough coffee for all of us,” Faro said.

After the rescued trio had been fed and everybody had coffee, Puckett and Collins were soon asleep, aided by pulls from the whiskey jug.

“Faro,” Dallas said, “since you and Tarno aim to ride back to that renegade camp by first light, both of you grab your blankets and get what sleep you can. The rest of us will keep watch.”

“Supply us some weapons and ammunition,” said Blackburn, “and Josh and me will do our part.”

“Yeah,” Snyder said. “After what we been through, I don't never want to take any chances.”

The night wore on, and an hour before first light, Faro and Tarno were up, saddling their horses.

“Like I said last night,” said Faro, “since we have two wounded men, and we have no idea what those renegades will do, we'll keep camp here for a while. Tarno and me will eat when we return. Dallas, keep everybody armed and ready.”

“
Sí
,” Dallas said.

Faro and Tarno rode out, and there was no conversation. Dawn being near, the wind had died, and the stars seemed to be receding into that unknown universe where they spent their daylight hours. Sounding lonesome and far away, there came the quavering cry of a wolf.

“The varmints may be cleanin' up what's left after the explosions,” Tarno said.

“If they are, it could be good news for us,” said Faro. “Wolves won't come after the dead, if there's anybody else around. This bein' summer, game shouldn't be scarce.”

They rode their horses to within a few hundred yards of the head of the canyon, reaching it just as the first gray fingers of dawn touched the eastern horizon. Unsure as to just what they could expect, they climbed
the stone abutment until they could see above the time-worn gap through which the water flowed. Rock and dirt had blocked the canyon two-thirds of the way down, and water had begun backing up. There were the mangled bodies of more than thirty horses, and a dozen wolves were feasting on the carcasses.

“There's only one dead man down there,” Tarno said, “and from where he lies, I'd say he's the outlaw that was shot tryin' to escape.”

“Those three white renegades escaped the blast,” said Faro. “I was afraid of that. Now we'll have them stalking us again.”

“They won't have as many Utes with 'em,” Tarno said. “They took their dead away, but every horse carcass has the look of an Indian pony. I'd bet there was a Ute died with every horse.”

“You're likely right,” said Faro. “We made some powerful medicine, and it's possible the Utes who survived the blast will shy away from us.”

“I was expecting those walls to collapse and block the canyon,” Tarno said, “and since they didn't, that stream will soon make itself another bed. It also should have provided us with some muddy footprints and hoofprints of those who escaped. You reckon it's safe for us to ride down to the shallow end of the canyon and look around?”

“I think we'll risk it,” said Faro. “I have a feeling those surviving Utes left here in a hurry, and without them, the white renegades had no reason to stay. There's a chance we might find some live horses, and those three miners could use them.”

*   *   *

Twenty miles west of the devastated canyon, Perro Cara and the remnants of his band had camped near a creek. Only fifteen Utes remained, and they had distanced themselves from the three white renegades.

“Damn savages,” said Sangre. “They look at us like we was to blame for all that hell that busted loose last night.”

“Somebody was,” Hueso said. “We set there on our hunkers and let that bunch of mule whackers blast the canyon rims down on us. Not only that, they snatched away the three hombres that could of led us to that gold claim.”

“Don't forget Slade and his bunch,” said Dog Face sarcastically. “All but one of them escaped, and they'll be after the gold, too.”

“I ain't forgettin' them,” Hueso said, “and I ain't forgettin' it was you that blowed a pile of money—money that was part ours—armin' them Utes with Winchesters. Near fifty of the varmints has rode off and left us, takin' the guns with 'em. What do you aim to do about that?”

“Gut-shoot you, by God, if you say another word,” said Dog Face with a snarl.

“Oh, hell,” Sangre said, “what's done is done. It wasn't a bad idea, havin' all them Utes sidin' us. How was we to know they'd get spooked and light out? Instead of chawin' on one another, we'd ought to be decidin' what we're gonna do now.”

“Sangre's right,” said Dog Face. “We got to figger a way to get our hands on that gold claim. We salvaged most of our supplies, and I'll talk to Quintado. If he
can convince the rest of them Utes to stick with us, we'll manage.”

“We still don't know where the gold claim is,” Hueso said.

“So we're back to our original plan,” said Dog Face. “We'll foller them wagons.”

“They know we're after 'em, an they know why,” Hueso said. “After what they done last night, you think they ain't gonna be ready for us?”

“I ain't expectin' it to be easy,” said Dog Face. “Damn it, anytime you don't like the way the stick floats, then mount up and ride.”

Hueso laughed. “I'll stick around. But I'm warnin' you,
amigo
. I don't aim to squat ever' time you holler froggy, and I don't aim to swaller ever' damn-fool idea that wanders through your head.”

The two men glared at each other, and Sangre's little pig eyes glittered. There might not be a three-way split, after all….

*   *   *

Intent only on escape, Slade, Hindes, Withers, and Kritzer vanished into the night, and so were far enough from the canyon that they weren't affected by the explosion. They hunkered in the shadows a mile to the west, catching their breath.

“Damn,” Hindes said, “no horse, no gun, no grub.”

“It ain't been that long,” said Kritzer, “that you'd of been satisfied just to get out of there with your hide in one piece. Peeler wasn't so lucky.”

“Question is,” Withers said, “what are we gonna do now?”

“I can't speak for nobody else,” said Slade, “but I ain't givin' up on that gold claim.”

Hindes laughed. “Slade, you'd try to sneak through the pearly gates after you'd done had your ticket punched for hell.”

It rubbed Slade the wrong way. His left foot shot out and his boot heel caught Hindes under the chin, slamming the back of his head into the trunk of a tree. Hindes slumped forward and didn't move. Kritzer took Hindes's wrist and then reached for the big artery in his neck.

“Is he all right?” Withers asked anxiously.

“Not where I come from,” said Kritzer. “He's dead. You busted his neck, Slade.”

“I had enough of his mouthin' off,” Slade growled.

“It was just his way,” said Withers. “I'm wonderin' how long before you come down on Kritzer and me.”

“Long as you and Kritzer don't push me,” Slade said, “we'll get along.”

“I didn't think Hindes was pushin' you,” said Withers. “There's a mean streak in you, Slade, that I ain't never liked, and the more I see of you, the less I like it. I'm pullin' out, goin' back to Santa Fe.”

Slade laughed. “Withers, you're a damn fool.”

“I have been,” Withers said, “but no more.”

Withers got to his feet, and to Slade's surprise, so did Kritzer.

“If Withers is a damn fool,” said Kritzer, “then so am I. I'm leavin' with him.”

Slade stood up, and unbelieving, watched them vanish into the darkness.

“You'll never make it,” Slade shouted. “You hear me, you'll never make it.”

But there was only silence, and for a long moment, Slade stood looking down at the body of the dead Hindes. Finally he began walking, and the fingers of a west wind were cool as they touched his sweating face….

*   *   *

When Faro and Tarno reached the shallow end of the canyon, it wasn't difficult to see what had happened following the blast. Tracks of three shod horses and those of fifteen unshod animals led westward. Many more tracks of unshod horses led due south.

“Not many Utes went with the white renegades,” Tarno said. “Less than twenty. I'd say the rest have split the blanket.”

“That's good news for us,” said Faro, “but it looks like they may have taken any extra horses with them. I don't think we'll pursue that bunch that rode south.”

“I won't argue with you on that,” Tarno said. “After last night, they'd gut-shoot a white man, just on general principles.”

“We'll ride on back to the wagons,” said Faro. “Lacking horses, Collins's
amigos
will be ridin' a wagon box.”

“None of us will be goin' anywhere for another three or four days,” Tarno said. “That is, if you aim to allow Puckett and Collins some time to heal.”

“No reason why we shouldn't,” said Faro. “Most of the urgency in us getting these wagons to the claim was the three miners Collins had left behind, and their need for food and ammunition. We've taken care of
that part of the problem, and in so doing, we have three more men to stand with us against the Utes and outlaws.”

When they reached the wagons, their breakfast and hot coffee was waiting. After they had eaten, Faro and Tarno reported what they had seen at the canyon and their speculation as to what had become of the renegades and Utes.

“We're not rid of the varmints, then,” Dallas said.

“No,” said Tarno. “While most of the Utes seem to have left the white renegades, we still may have to fight them. The same holds true of the renegades. While they're reduced in number, I don't look for them to leave us alone. I think scouting ahead is going to be even more important from here on. We'll remain here until Puckett and Collins are well enough to travel. How are they, this morning?”

“Puckett's doin' well, considerin',” Dallas said, “but Collins has a raging fever. We've been dosin' him with whiskey. Blackburn and Snyder's been takin' care of them.”

“I reckon there's been no other trouble, if you know what I mean,” said Faro.

“I know what you mean,” Dallas said, “and no, there's been no more trouble out of them. Two wounded men seems to have had a sobering effect.”

“God knows, we needed one,” said Faro.

The day passed uneventfully, but along toward sundown, Tarno spotted a pair of distant figures stumbling in from the west.

“Who in tarnation are
they
?” Shanghai Taylor wondered.

“There were five other white men held captive in that canyon besides us,” Blackburn said. “That could be two of them.”

The two came on, and when they neared the wagons, Faro challenged them.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“Kritzer and Withers,” said one. The other seemed too weary to respond. “We've been held prisoner by renegades and Indians. Last night, we managed to escape.”

“Come on,” Faro said. “We'll have supper in a while.”

“We're obliged,” said Kritzer. “We ain't had a scrap of grub since yesterday mornin', and not much, then.”

Hal Durham had come forth to witness the arrival of the two, and he quickly turned away, but not before Faro had seen recognition in his eyes. Durham didn't appear during supper, and when the meal was finished, Faro questioned the new arrivals.

“Usually, I don't ask a man his business, but you gents are without horses, guns, or grub, and these mountains are full of Utes. Where are you bound?”

“Santa Fe, I reckon,” said Withers.

“Yeah,” Kritzer agreed. “Where else could we go?”

“It's a good two hundred miles,” said Faro. “I reckon I don't have to tell you how slim your chances are.”

The two said nothing, their eyes on the tin cups of coffee in their hands.