Leading so many horses, it was past midnight when Justin and Wovoka approached the camp. Lonnie Kilgore issued the challenge.
“Halt and identify yourselves.”
“Justin and Wovoka,” said Justin.
“Who’s ridin’ the other horses?” Lonnie asked suspiciously.
“Nobody,” said Justin. “They kind of took up with Wovoka in Del Rio and followed us back.”
Justin and Wovoka led the fourteen horses into the, clearing near the wagon. When they had dismounted, Lonnie spoke.
“Now, what’s this all about?”
Quickly Justin explained, giving Wovoka full credit for having taken the horses. When he had finished, Dallas laughed. Benjamin Raines and Elliot Graves joined in. The arrival of so many horses, combined with the laughter, awakened the rest of the camp, and Justin had to repeat the story. There was much more laughter, and only when it had died down did Lonnie speak.
“I never expected anything like this. Suppose those hombres were just on their way to the saloon, with no intention of bushwhacking us? That makes us horse thieves.”
“That’s not very likely,” Justin said. “Why would fourteen men, armed to the teeth, ride desolate country like this unless they stand to gain something by it? If it makes you feel better, once we’re beyond Del Rio, you can turn their horses loose.”
“Ugh,” said Wovoka, not liking the turn things had taken.
“I don’t think we owe them the return of these horses,” Dallas said, “if they’re who we think they are. Notice in every saddle boot there’s a long gun?”
“He’s right,” said Benjamin Raines. “If that bunch comes after us, they’ll have to bushwhack us with pistols.”
“We can’t rule out the possibility they’ll do exactly that,” Dallas said. “These days, you can shoot some hombre and maybe get away with it. But take his horse, and you’re likely to be strung up. Since this is something that can’t be undone, I reckon we’d better follow our plan, expecting an ambush, until we’re well north of Del Rio.”
“That’s all we can do,” said Lonnie. “Justin, I want you and Wovoka out there ahead of us for the next two or three days. If this bunch is coming after us and they’re afoot, it won’t be easy finding them. Now all of you roll in your blankets and get what sleep you can.”
Lonnie mounted his horse and again began circling the herd, aware that Becky rode beside him. Lonnie suspected she had something to say, and she did.
“That may or may not have been such a good idea, Wovoka taking those horses, but I wish you hadn’t questioned it where he could hear. He’s loyal to us, and I feel better, him being with us.”
“So do I,” said Lonnie, “and as for taking the horses of an enemy, that’s the Indian way. I’m just not sure it’s the right way at this particular time.”
“I am,” Becky said. “What can this bunch of thieves do? They certainly can’t complain to the law that, while they were in the Texas side of the border, somebody took all their horses.”
“No,” said Lonnie, “but let’s look at those horses in daylight. I’d bet my saddle that every last one has a Texas brand.”
“Perhaps,” Becky said, “but we’re on a trail drive, needing to reach your Green River range ahead of winter snow. We can’t take the time to ride around south Texas looking for the rightful owners of these horses. Turn them loose, and if they’ve been across the border for as long as two weeks, they’ll return there.”*
“I realize that,” said Lonnie. “That’s why we’re taking them with us. Since we’re unable to return them to their rightful owners, we’re more entitled to them than that bunch of Mejicano outlaws.”
Wovoka was afoot, near enough to hear their words. He sighed with satisfaction, for he had not done wrong.
‘Unless that bunch got their hands on some horses almighty quick,” Lonnie said, “we won’t be hearing from them before tomorrow. But we can’t afford to gamble. Justin, you and Wovoka ride at least as far as the next water, and a little beyond, if you can. Boot prints won’t be as easy to follow as horse backs, but that can’t be helped.”
After breakfast, Lonnie and Wovoka again rode west. Wovoka rode slightly behind, and occasionally Justin turned his head enough to see the Indian. Wovoka looked grim, as though he’d been unjustly reprimanded. Lonnie made up his mind to talk to the Indian the first time they stopped to rest their horses.
The saloon near Del Rio was about to close when the fourteen men stumbled out of the bar to discover they no longer had horses.
“Por Dios,” slurred one of the riders. “What are we to do?”
“Mama mía,” said Chavez, the leader of the bunch, “what do you think? We walk.”
“By the horns of El Diablo,” one of the outlaws groaned, “which way? We cannot ambush these hombres afoot. They will ride us down.”
“We do not be afoot, estupido” Chavez replied. “We will again cross the river, and we will find horses. They will be turned loose after the ambush, when we have taken our own, that were taken from us.”
So the outlaws started south on foot, with the nearest horses many miles away. They kept a steady pace, but that changed when the sun lifted its golden face above the eastern horizon. Men staggered along until they found some shade, and there they collapsed, heaving for breath.
“Madre de Dios,” Chavez shouted, “we do not have much time until the Americanos are gone, taking our horses. On your feet.”
Their narrow Mexican boots had blistered their feet, and every step was torture. Still they limped on, hating Chavez almost as much as the son of a donkey who had taken their horses.
Fifteen miles east of Del Rio and the border, Justin and Wovoka reined up. Nothing interrupted the stillness, and the Indian looked questioningly at Justin.
“If they aim to try and bushwhack us afoot,” said Justin, “it’ll take them longer to get here. We’d better ride on a ways and, if we can, find some sign of their coming.”
They rode on, reining up a mile or two from the border.
“They no walk,” Wovoka said.
“Not in this direction, anyway,” said Justin. “That leaves just one possibility. They’re hoofin’ it back across the border for some horses. Depending on how far they have to walk, it’s unlikely they’ll be in a position to come after us before sometime tomorrow. We might as well ride back and meet the outfit.”
Seeing the herd coming, Justin and Wovoka reined up, waiting until Lonnie reached them. They then rode alongside him long enough for Justin to relay what he and Wovoka had learned.
Lonnie laughed. “They must really have a mad on, to hike God knows how far into old Mexico. But I think you’re right, They’re after horses. They know about how much time they have before we reach Del Rio. If they get mounted sometime today or tonight, we’ll still have a fight on our hands tomorrow.”
Leaving Wovoka with Lonnie at the point position, Justin joined the drag riders. One of them was Kirby Lowe, and he trotted his horse alongside Justin’s.
“Where are they?” Kirby asked.
“Looks like they’ve gone back across the border, probably to get some horses,” said Justin. “I reckon we’ll know tomorrow.”
Not until the day was done and the herd bedded down for the night did Lonnie repeat what Justin had told him. For a moment there was silence as the outfit digested the information.
“So we’ve just slowed them down some,” Dallas said.
“Yes,” said Lonnie, “but if they’ve gone after more horses, that tells us something we need to know. They aim to attack us, and they won’t be on foot when they do. The best time for them to attack is when we’re nearest the border, and that should come tomorrow. But if it doesn’t come tomorrow, they can still come after us. After we reach the Pecos, we can’t possibly cover more than fifteen miles with the herd before nightfall. They can still catch up to us and give us hell.”
“If they don’t jump us tomorrow,” Justin said. “Wovoka and me will still have to scout on ahead. The varmints will know we’re expecting them, and they’ll ride far enough east or west to circle around and get ahead of us.”
“I’d not be surprised if they wait until we reach the Pecos,” said Lonnie. “There may be some prime places for an ambush along the river, and if they don’t attack tomorrow, they could figure that as a means of confusing us and catching us off guard. We’ll be ready for them tomorrow and several days after that. I can’t believe they’d pass up a herd the size of ours so near the border.”
“We got their horses, too,” Waco said. “That had to be humiliating.”
Supper was ready, and by the time the outfit had eaten, it was time for the first watch to begin circling the herd. They mounted their horses and rode out. April followed Dirk, while Laura followed Kirby.
“I never thought those ladies would be out there every night,” Dallas said, “but there they are. They’re like a couple of shadows.”
“We got a couple of shadows, too,” said Lonnie. “Mindy rides with you, while Becky’s riding with me. It hasn’t caused any trouble so far, and it makes them feel better.”
By midnight, big gray clouds had gathered. Two hours before dawn, the rain started. When it was light enough to see, Lonnie, Dallas, Justin, and Elliot used one of the sheets of extra canvas to rig a shelter behind the wagon, where breakfast could be prepared. The dry wood in the wagon’s possum belly served its purpose well.
“I hate to mention this,” Dallas said, “but if this rain don’t soon slack off, there’ll be so much mud, this wagon won’t be going nowhere.”
“There’s almost no graze here,” Gus Wilder said. “We got to move on.”
“Mud don’t slow pack mules down,” said Sandy Orr needlessly.
“Enough of that,” Elliot Graves said. “We all agreed on the wagon. If we’d stuck with pack mules, we’d already be eatin’ jerked beef and drinking branch water.”
“It’s my day on the wagon,” said Mindy. “Unless it rains all day, I can try.”
“That’s about all we can do,” Lonnie said. “The wagon’s well loaded, and if the ground gets enough water, the wagon will bog down.”
The outfit had breakfast as best they could, some of them hunkering down under the canvas stretched behind the wagon, while others got under the wagon.
“She’s clearin’ up over yonder to the west,” said Benjamin Raines.
“We’ll give it a little time,” Lonnie said. “If the rain slacks pretty soon, we still might be able to go on. But there’s no use harnessing the mules, saddling our horses, and taking the trail with the herd until we’re sure the wagon can make it.”
The skies continued to clear, until the sun came forth and began sucking up the excess water. Wet clothing dried quickly, and the heat was such that the rain might never have fallen. Lonnie and Dallas began harnessing the mules to the wagon.
“Mindy,” said Dallas, when the teams had been harnessed, “take them a ways and then bring ’em back. If you don’t bog down, then we can probably make it.”
Mindy flicked the reins. While the wagon wheels mired a little, the mules had no real trouble drawing the wagon. Several hundred yards away, Mindy turned the team, brining the wagon back.
“Let’s try it,” Lonnie said. “I don’t believe there was enough rain to hurt us.”
Quickly the riders saddled their horses. Justin Irwin spoke to Lonnie.
“Wovoka and me will ride on ahead, almost to Del Rio. If we don’t see any signs of those Mejicanos, I think we’ll just hole up somewhere ahead and wait for the rest of you to catch up to us. Otherwise, it’s possible they’ll arrive and set up an ambush after we’ve turned back to meet the herd. What do you think?”
“I think that’s wise,” said Lonnie. “Just be careful as you ride west, and don’t leave any obvious tracks. The rain will have wiped the trails clean, and if that bunch is headed this way, we don’t want them knowing you and Wovoka are riding ahead looking for them.”
“They won’t know,” Justin said. “Wovoka and me will split up, one of us to the north and the other to the south of the trail.”
“Bueno,” said Lonnie. “If you reach the river without seeing any of them, both of you move as near that crossing as you can. When they reach the crossing and it appears they are riding toward us follow as close as you can. Then you might learn where they aim to lay their ambush, and riding wide, you can come back and warn us. Just be damn sure they don’t discover you, and don’t do anything foolish, such as attacking them.”
“Kill,” Wovoka said.
“No, Wovoka,” said Lonnie. “You’ll get your chance at them once we know for sure they’re after us. Don’t let him forget that, Justin.”
“Don’t worry,” Justin said. “Fourteen of them against two of us is terrible odds. We’ll lay low until we see them coming, and once they hole up somewhere, we’ll be riding back to tell you.”
“Bueno,” said Lonnie. “Get going.”
Justin and Wovoka rode out. They had gone not more than a mile when Justin reined up. He pointed to Wovoka and then to the south. The Indian had heard and understood Justin’s conversation with Lonnie. He nodded and rode south. Justin rode almost two miles north. Justin would reach the river several miles north of the Del Rio crossing, while Wovoka would emerge an equal distance to the south. Unless the outlaws did some careful scouting, they wouldn’t know the trail drive had expected and prepared for their arrival.
The fourteen weary outlaws had walked twenty long miles into old Mexico before they reached the blind canyon where they had taken stolen horses and cattle. Mostly, during the long journey afoot, they suffered in silence. Now their ordeal was over, and again they had horses. Except for Chavez, all of them collapsed in the welcome shade the canyon rim afforded.
“On your feet,” bawled Chavez. “It will be dark before we reach the crossing.”
“Madre mía,” one of the outlaws complained, “we have no saddles or rifles.”
“We will when we take them back from the Americanos” said Chavez.
“Let us eat before we go,” one of the outlaws begged. “We have eaten nothing since yesterday morning, and then only jerked beef.”
“You will have jerked beef again this day,” said Chavez, “if any remains.”
Chavez mounted his horse bareback, and with a sigh of resignation, his followers all mounted and rode with him. North, toward the crossing at Del Rio.
“The crossing can’t be too far ahead,” said Lonnie. “Here I think we’d better take the trail west, until we reach the Pecos. Sometime soon—maybe tonight—we should be hearing from Justin and Wovoka.”
Darkness had fallen when the fourteen outlaws again reached the crossing. Less than a mile south of the crossing, Wovoka had heard the horses coming. So had Justin, to the north, and when the Mejicanos rode on past the saloon, Justin and Wovoka came together behind them.
“We’ll follow them a ways,” Justin said. “Our outfit may have already gone west and reached the Pecos.”
Less than two miles from the crossing, the outlaws rode west. Wovoka leaned over and by starlight, studied the ground. Finally, he spoke.
“Cow go that way.” He pointed toward the west. “Mejicanos follow.”
“That means we’ll have to circle wide enough to get back to the herd, without those no-account varmints knowin’ we’re coming,” said Justin. “If they’re armed only with six-guns, they may try to sneak up on us tonight after moonset.”
That was exactly the tactic Chavez was considering when he and his companions reined up to rest the horses. He was waiting for just the right moment, and one of the outlaws gave him cause.
“I do not believe we can ambush so many Americanos with only the pistola” said one of the outlaws.
“Nor do I,” Chavez replied. “I think we wait for some of them to sleep. Then we creep close and kill all of those who are on watch, withdrawing before the living can retaliate. If we rid ourselves of half of them tonight, can we not eliminate the others tomorrow night?”
There was mumbled assent from the rest of the outlaws. It seemed far more practical than attempting an ambush with only handguns.
“Come, then,” said Chavez. “We shall ride as near them as we dare, attacking during the small hours of the morning, when they least expect it.”
But Justin and Wovoka, aware that the trail drive had gone west toward the Pecos, rode wide to the north, going around the outlaws. Reaching the Pecos somewhere north of the herd, they rode south along the east bank.
“Rein up,” said Waco Talley, “and identify yourselves.”
“Justin and Wovoka,” Justin replied.
The two of them rode in and dismounted. Justin noted with approval that there was no fire. Quickly he related what he and Wovoka had learned.
“Tarnation,” said Dallas,” that means they don’t have long guns. They aim to attack us sometime tonight.”
“It looks that way,” Lonnie said. “Taking us by surprise, they could gun down half of us tonight and the rest tomorrow night. I think, for tonight and tomorrow night, there’ll be no first and second watch. We’ll all be on watch from dusk to dawn, until this bunch has made their move. Those of you normally on the second watch, mount up. We’ll take a position just south of the herd. The rest of you be prepared to join us on either flank if we’re attacked. See that every shot counts. Your muzzle flashes will be excellent targets.”
Dallas, Benjamin Raines, Elliot Graves, Justin Irwin, and Wovoka followed Lonnie to the south. A hundred yards beyond the camp, they fanned out in a half-circle, waiting. A pale moon rose, and when it eventually set, the world seemed all the darker for its going. Lonnie looked at the stars and found it was nearly midnight. If there was to be an attack, he didn’t expect it until the small hours of the morning. The sound, when he heard it, was slight, and it didn’t come again. Lonnie drew and cocked his Colt, its action sounding loud in the stillness.
“It’s me,” Becky whispered.
“Go back,” said Lonnie, irritated. “I don’t want you here during the attack.”
“But I am here,” Becky whispered back, “and Mindy’s with Dallas. Both of us have our guns. We have as much right to risk our necks as you have to risk yours.”
Lonnie sighed and kept his silence. It was neither the time nor the place for an argument. If the outlaws were close, even a breath of resignation might sound loud in the stillness of the night.
“Madre de Dios,” came a whispered exclamation, “they do not watch the herd.”
It was evidence enough that the outlaws had intended to gun down the riders on watch. They could then come after the others on another night, having an edge after the outfit had been reduced by half. It was time to issue a challenge, and Lonnie did.
“You men are covered. Drop your guns and come out, your hands over your heads.”
Nobody expected the outlaws to surrender, and they didn’t. There was a muzzle flash, as one of them fired in the direction of Lonnie’s voice. Lonnie returned the fire, and there was a groan of pain. The rest of the outlaws opened fire, their muzzle flashes providing excellent targets. The men from the first watch had circled the outlaws and were firing from a flank position. The outlaws had nowhere to go, except into the river or back the way they had come.
“Retire,” Chavez shouted. “Retiro.”
But his command to retreat had come too late. The Texans sent a storm of lead into the thicket where the outlaws were hidden. One of them nearest Chavez got to his feet to run and was quickly cut down. Chavez heard his body fall in the brush. Not daring to get to his feet, Chavez crawled on his belly until the scattered gunfire was well behind him. He reached the horses and discover they all were there. Under his breath, he cursed all gringos in general, and these in particular. Quickly he caught one of the horses, mounted, and kicked the animal into a run, headed south. But he was in a clearing now, under a cloudless sky, and was jolted forward as a slug slammed into his shoulder. On he rode, his only hope being to cross the border before the Americano devils caught up to him.
“Hold your fire,” Lonnie shouted. “Any of you men who are still alive, it’s time to get your hands in the air and give it up. If you don’t, we’ll salt that thicket with enough lead to finish you. Now what’s it goin’ to be?”
“Lonnie,” said Dallas, “one of them rode away, but we wounded him. I don’t think the others are alive.”
“We’ll keep watch until dawn, just in case,” Lonnie said. “If there’s no more activity, we’ll take a body count.”
Chavez crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico, where he reined up, waiting to see if any of the others had escaped. But there was no sound except the whisper of the wind among the trees. Chavez cursed bitterly. The numbness had begun to wear off, and his shoulder hurt. Looking back once more, he kicked his horse into a lope and was soon lost within the shadows.
“Lonnie,” said Dallas, “while we’re waiting for breakfast, let’s have a look at the bunch that jumped us last night.”
“I’ll join you,” Justin Irwin said. “I can’t believe we took them all on and none of us even got a scratch.”
“We have you and Wovoka to thank for that,” said Lonnie. “We knew they were after us, and they had to come in close enough to use their six-guns.”
“We owe Wovoka for taking their horses,” Dallas said. “Otherwise they would have had their rifles. It was a fatal mistake, them coming after us with pistols.”
Entering the thicket, they froze, for they were confronted by a grisly sight. Some of the outlaws had been hit more than once. In all, there were thirteen dead men.
“That means one of them escaped,” said Lonnie, “and I think he was hit.”
“Then there must be some horses along the Pecos south of here,” Justin said. “We’re goin’ to have a decent remuda yet.”
“Like those horses Wovoka took, they’ll likely all have Texas brands,” said Lonnie.
“Maybe,” Dallas said. “If I thought they’d wander back to their Texas owners, I’d say turn them loose. But more than likely they’d drift back across the river. We’re as entitled to them as anybody.”
“Let’s get breakfast, if we still have the stomach for it,” said Lonnie. “Then we’ll look for those horses.”
Returning to camp, Lonnie told them of the gruesome results of the gunfight the night before. All were in a somber mood, except Wovoka.
“Maybe we ought to search them,” Dirk McNelly said. “It’s the same thing as with the horses. If they have money, they can’t use it.”
“Dirk,” said April, “that’s a terrible thing, searching dead men.”
“No more than they’d have done, if it was us layin’ there dead,” Dirk replied.
“I know it sounds cruel,” said Lonnie, “but it’s the truth. While we’re about it, we’ll take a look at their weapons. Any of them with a Colt, take it, along with any ammunition that’s left.”
“Why only Colts?” Mindy asked.
“Because there’s lots of foreign makes on the frontier,” said Lonnie, “and it’s difficult finding ammunition for them.”
“I go,” Wovoka said, pointing toward the fateful thicket.
“Go,” said Lonnie, “but breakfast is almost ready. Why don’t you eat first?”
Wovoka might not have heard. When one killed another in battle, the dead man’s gun, knife, and horse belonged to the victor. The Indian disappeared into the thicket.
“My God,” Kirby Lowe said, “I hope he won’t scalp them.”
“Lonnie,” said Becky, “Can’t you … ?”
“No,” Lonnie said. “I can’t tell him to ignore his tribal traditions. He’s Shoshone, and I don’t know how they feel about scalping.”
“Maybe he was with Bridger long enough to put some of his tribal traditions behind him,” said Dallas.
“Breakfast is ready,” Becky said. “We’ll save some for Wovoka.”
When Wovoka finally emerged from the thicket, he looked like a walking arsenal. He had ten shell belts, each with a holstered Colt. Proudly he placed them on the ground near the cook fire.
“All Colt,” said Wovoka.
“Bueno, Wovoka,” Lonnie said. “What about their pockets?”
The Indian had a blank look on his face, as though he didn’t fully understand what had been expected of him. Lonnie reached into his Levi’s pocket, took a handful of double eagles, and held them out to Wovoka.
“Take gun, take horse,” said Wovoka. He then went to the wagon’s tailgate, where Becky had left his breakfast. He sat down on the wagon tongue and began to eat
Dallas looked as though he were about to laugh, but Lonnie shook his head. Nothing was more devastating to an Indian than having someone laugh at him.
“Gus and me will take a quick look,” Waco Talley said.
“Go ahead,” said Lonnie.
“Oh, I hate this,” Becky said. “It’s so uncivilized.”
“Sorry,” said Lonnie. “We’re doing nothing to them that they wouldn’t have done to us. At least Wovoka didn’t scalp them.”
Gus and Waco weren’t gone very long. When they returned, Gus carried his hat. When he dumped its contents on a blanket, there was the dull shine of many gold eagles, as well as double eagles.
“Looks to be maybe a thousand dollars or more,” Waco said.
“Becky,” said Lonnie, “find a place for it near the front of the wagon. Later on, we’ll divide it among the outfit. Now let’s saddle our horses and find those the Mejicanos left behind. Then it’s on to the Green River range.”
*After two weeks or more in the same place, a horse generally considered it home.”