After April had calmed down and Dirk had gone back to sleep, Lonnie spoke to his companions on the second watch.
“I think Dirk may have been right,” Lonnie said. “That may have been a horse, a mule, or even a cow that scared April. If it was one of the mules, and he’s lit out, we may be in trouble. Let’s have a look.”
“I don’t know how any one of ’em could have got past us,” said Elliot Graves. “We’ve been watching pretty close.”
But try as they might, they could find only three mules.
“It’s that troublesome varmint we bought that was lame,” said Dallas, “and we’ll never find him in the dark.”
“We’ll have to wait for first light,” Lonnie said. “Another delay.”
Then on the wind came a faraway, chilling scream.
“Cougar,” said Justin Irwin. “First light may be too late, and the delay may be longer than we expect.”
“I heard him a while ago,” Lonnie said, “and he’s no closer. He’s somewhere in those mountains to the west of us, and the wind’s from that direction.”
“I once talked to a gent that rode the Old Spanish Trail from Santa Fe to California,” Benjamin Raines said. “He claims there’s cougars and grizzlies in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado.”
“I don’t doubt that,” said Lonnie. “I’m hoping we can avoid them. It’s bad enough that we may have to fight the Paiutes and the Mormons.”
Lonnie made the announcement to the outfit before breakfast.
“We’re missing a mule, and we can’t move on until we find him. After breakfast, Gus, Dallas, Waco, and me will go looking for him.”
April made it a point not to notice Dirk McNelly glaring at her. The rest of the outfit didn’t look at either of them. Breakfast was a silent affair. Afterward, Lonnie, Dallas, Gus, and Waco saddled their horses and rode out.
“We’ll try this side of the river first,” Lonnie said. “Half-circles.”
They rode almost a mile downriver. From there, they spaced themselves a few yards apart along the river. They would each ride a half-circle around their camp and the herd, ending at the river a mile or so above the herd. When they had accomplished that, there was no sign of the mule, and no tracks.
“He had to cross the river, then,” Dallas said. “I reckon April must have scared hell out of him.”
“It didn’t take much to scare him,” said Gus. “That cougar’s squall may have got under his hide.”
“We’ll cross the river and ride half-circles again,” Lonnie said. “It’s possible, after he scared April, that he went directly across the river. That would account for there being no tracks over here.”
They found a shallows and rode across the Pecos. Riding back downriver, they almost immediately found mule tracks.
“Well, we know the little varmint’s somewhere on this side of the river,” said Dallas.
Following the mule’s tracks, they were headed west up a rock-strewn slope. Reaching the crest of that slope, they immediately found themselves facing another. The ground was flint-hard. They were on solid rock, without a sign of any mule tracks.
“I have an idea we’re going to reach a higher and higher elevation,” Lonnie said, “and not a sign of any mule tracks.”
“Along with his other faults,” said Dallas, “that mule’s part mountain goat.”
“Let’s stop and listen,” Gus suggested. “On solid rock, surely he’ll make some noise.”
The wind was from the west, and suddenly they heard the desperate, distinct braying of a mule.
“Wherever he is, the little varmint’s in trouble,” Lonnie said. “Come on.”
When they eventually found the mule, his left hind foot was wedged in a rock crevice. The troublesome animal regarded them with sad eyes, while Lonnie tried to free its hoof from the crevice.
“Damn it,” said Lonnie, “he’s caught for good.”
“Won’t it come out the way it went in?” Dallas asked.
“Take a look,” said Lonnie. “He’s been trapped here so long, his leg is badly swollen. It’s already been cut, and trying to force it out will only cut it deeper. He won’t be of any use to us if we cut a tendon to free him. Dallas, you and Waco ride back to camp. In the wagon is a sledgehammer and an iron wedge. Bring them.”
“We may be a while,” Dallas said, “if we have to unload some of the wagon.”
“In that case,” said Lonnie, “get some of the rest of the outfit to help you.”
The rest of the outfit was waiting anxiously for the return of the riders who had gone in search of the mule. Quickly they gathered around as Dallas and Waco dismounted.
“Not much time for talk,” Dallas said. “The mule’s caught his foot between two ledges or rock, and he’s hurt some. Lonnie and Waco’s stayed with him, so’s he don’t struggle around and hurt himself more. There’s a sledgehammer and an iron wedge somewhere in the wagon. Lonnie wants it.”
There was a search for the sledgehammer and the wedge, and after unloading part of the wagon’s goods, their search was rewarded. Dallas and Waco took the tools, mounted their horses, and rode back across the river.
“Where’s April?” Dirk asked. “She was here just a minute ago.”
“After last night, I reckon she’s upset with you,” said Becky. “Now she likely thinks the mule being gone is her fault.”
“Maybe it is,” Dirk said.
“The mule had already wandered away from the other mules and the horses,” snapped Becky, “and even if he hadn’t frightened April, he might still be where he is right now. If you’re just half as much a man as you should be, you’ll find her and tell her none of this is her fault.”
Dirk looked at her, his fists doubled and his face flaming red. For a moment, Becky was afraid of him. Finally, with a sigh, he turned away and went looking for April. Well beyond the herd, he found her sitting cross-legged beside the river, staring into the muddy water. Without a word, he sat down beside her, and it was she who finally spoke.
“I know what the others must think of me. Aren’t you afraid some of it may rub off on you?”
“Nobody’s blamed you for anything, except me,” said Dirk, “and I reckon I shot off my mouth without thinking. That blasted mule was already wandering away when he got to you. If he hadn’t gone anywhere near you, he’d still have been gone. Nobody’s blaming you for anything. Come on back and join the rest of the outfit. Lonnie, Dallas, Gus, and Waco have found the mule. He’s caught a hind leg between two rocks, and they’re freeing him.”
“I’ll go with you,” April said, “but you’ll have to forgive me for being a little afraid. I’ve never been away from home before, and I’ve never slept in the wilds. I’ll do better, if I can.”
“Whether you do or don’t,” said Dirk, his hands on her shoulders, “you’re my woman, and I couldn’t go on without you. From now on, spread your blankets next to mine, and I’ll see that nothing bothers you.”
That earned him a smile, and she took his hand.
“We only had to unload about half the wagon,” Dallas said, when he and Waco had dismounted. “When we’re done with this hammer and wedge, I’d like to suggest we stash them under the wagon seat. The rest of the outfit’s trying to pack the wagon back the way it was.”
“You can stuff them in your saddlebags, for all I care,” Lonnie said. “Nothing concerns me right now except freeing this jughead of a mule and seeing how bad he’s hurt.”
“You can’t get him loose too soon to suit me,” said Gus, who had been restraining the desperate mule.
“Dallas,” said Lonnie, “work that wedge as far into that crevice as it will go and hold it there. We’ll never get him loose unless we can widen that crevice.”
But it seemed the troublesome mule lacked confidence in their procedure, for he began braying to high heaven.
“Damn it, mule, shut up,” Waco said. “Every Paiute within a hundred miles can hear you.”
But the mule continued braying, and it seemed he was getting progressively louder. He ceased for a moment as Lonnie began pounding the head of the iron wedge with the sledgehammer. The wedge didn’t move, and again the mule began braying his misery.
“Use that hammer on his hard head,” said Dallas. “It’ll shut him up until we can get him loose.”
“Do that,” Waco said, as he tried to steady the mule, “and I’ll let you hold the critter up while he’s out cold.”
“None of that,” said Lonnie, as he stopped to catch his breath. “We already have all the trouble we need. Somewhere down deep, this rock may be as big as a house. If it is, we’ll need blasting powder to widen that crevice.”
“We have two kegs of the stuff,” Dallas said.
“And no possible way we can use it without killing the mule in the process,” said Gus. “We might as well just shoot the varmint and get him out of his misery.”
“He’s stubborn, lame, and has a bad case of wanderlust,” Lonnie said, “but we need him. I doubt we’ll ever widen this crevice with a wedge. I’ll try something else.”
With all his strength, Lonnie swung the hammer against one side of the crevice. Rock fragments pelted the mule’s behind, and he brayed all the louder. It required the combined efforts of Waco, Dallas, and Gus to prevent the mule from further injuring his already swollen and bloody hind leg.
“Steady him,” said Lonnie. “A few more blows, and I’ll have broken off enough of this rock to widen the crevice.”
“Don’t be too long,” Dallas said. “I reckon that shattered rock digging into his hide feels like buckshot. You want me to take the hammer for a while?”
“I want you to help Gus and Waco hold this damn mule steady,” said Lonnie shortly.
“Look,” Gus said, pointing toward the sky.
Far above them, four buzzards circled. They awaited death. If not immediately, then for the certainty of its coming.
“Damn,” said Lonnie, as he again swung the heavy hammer against the rock. He had struck the rock at such an angle that fragments dug into his face. Blood was running into his eyes.
“Let me have that hammer,” Dallas said. “You look like you’ve been scalped alive. Use your bandanna to stop that blood.”
Lonnie needed no urging, for he couldn’t see. Dallas swung the heavy hammer. Again, rock chips pelted the mule, and the animal brayed like he’d been mortally wounded.
“You’re some lucky bastard,” said Dallas through clenched teeth. “If we didn’t need you, I’d favor leaving you here, lettin’ the buzzards pick your carcass all the way to your hooves.”
The mule brayed all the louder, snaking his head around to eye Dallas. Swinging the hammer, Dallas ignored him. More fragments of rock pelted the mule’s hide, and it was all Gus and Waco could do to restrain him. Lonnie was still wiping blood from his eyes.
“One thing for sure,” Dallas said, pausing to catch his breath, “if we ever get him out of here, the little varmint’s goin’ to be hobbled when he ain’t hitched to the wagon.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that,” said Lonnie. “Let me have the hammer.”
“No,” Waco said. “Let me have a shot at it.”
Waco swung the hammer with all his might, splintering more of the rock, but still the mule’s hind leg was firmly caught.
“It’s goin’ to be ticklish from here on,” said Lonnie. “We’ll have to shatter the rock where it has him trapped. A glancing blow from the hammer could break his leg. Do you want me to take the hammer again?”
“No,” Waco said. “I’ve done some mining in my time, and if it can be done, then I’ll do it. I’ll swing the hammer true.”
Waco again swung the hammer, striking the rock only inches from the mule’s trapped leg. The animal broke into a new frenzy of braying.
“It’s driving the edge of that stone crevice deeper into his leg,” said Dallas.
“It’s also chipping away the rock that’s got him trapped,” Waco said. “Another time or two, and he’ll be free.”
“Make it quick,” said Lonnie, “or he’s goin’ to break that leg trying to get loose.”
Waco swung the hammer again, and there was some movement of the mule’s leg.
“Hit it once more in that same place,” Lonnie said, “and I believe he’ll be free.”
Again Waco swung the hammer, chipping away the rock. While Dallas and Gus tried to steady the mule, Lonnie slowly worked the imprisoned hoof out of the rock crevice. The mule immediately showed his gratitude by trying to run away. Dallas locked his arms about the animal’s neck, dragging him down. Lonnie seized the lariat from his saddle and, using it for a lead rope, got a loop over the mule’s head. The riders started back toward the river, the mule limping along on three legs.
“It’ll be a while before he uses that leg,” said Waco.
“We’ll have a look at it when we reach camp,” Lonnie said. “We don’t have the time to wait for him to heal. If nothing else, we may have to take another mule from the wagon, replacing them with two horses.”*
“There may be some hope for that,” said Gus. “Surely among all the horses we took from those Mejicano outlaws, there’ll be at least two that’s pulled a wagon before.”
They splashed across the Pecos, the mule limping along behind.
“How badly is he hurt?” Becky asked.
“See for yourself,” said Lonnie. “All the way to the bone, likely. Kirby, you and Dirk get a fire started. We’ll need some hot water.”
“If some of you will hold him, I’ll do the doctoring,” Becky said. “I don’t fancy being kicked in the head. You look like you can use some doctoring yourself,” she said, looking at the still-bloody nicks on Lonnie’s face.
“I can wait,” said Lonnie. “Take care of the mule first. Then we’ll cross-hobble him.”
“I’ll help you doctor him,” April said hopefully.
Lonnie was about to refuse when Becky caught his eye. When he said nothing, Becky spoke.
“I’ll appreciate your help, April. As soon as that pot of water starts to boil, bring it, and we’ll get started.”
The mule’s leg was cleaned with hot water and then doused with whiskey. When alcohol hit the raw wound, it took six men to throw the mule and keep him from running away. The injured leg was then smeared with sulfur salve, and a bandage was knotted in place. They carefully allowed the mule to get to his feet, and with a length of rope, Dallas quickly cross-hobbled him. With a left front leg hobbled to a right hind leg, he wouldn’t be going far. He was then led back to join the other mules and horses.
“Now,” said Becky, her critical eyes on Lonnie, “I’ll patch you up.”
The rest of the outfit moved away, talking to Gus, Waco, and Dallas about what had been done to rescue the unfortunate mule. It afforded Lonnie and Becky some privacy.
“I reckon Kirby and Laura patched things up,” said Lonnie.
“They have,” Becky said. “All it took was for Kirby to say he was sorry for acting like a sore-tailed grizzly.”
Lonnie laughed. “What about Dirk and April? I saw you pass me that ‘shut up’ look.”
“I’m glad you’ve learned to recognize that,” said Becky. “I set Dirk straight, I think, and he convinced April it wasn’t her fault the mule wandered away. I thought she would feel better if I allowed her to help doctor the mule.”
“You’ve really got a handle on what other folks are thinking,” Lonnie said. “That’s just a little scary.”
Becky laughed. “Then just be damn careful what thoughts go wandering through your head.”
“Oh, I will,” said Lonnie. “Round the others up. I’ll tell them what we aim to do.”
“What are we aiming to do?”
“You’ll find out when I tell the others,” Lonnie said.
The outfit came together, and Lonnie wasted no time in speaking to them.
“That mule likely won’t heal for a week or two, and there’s no way we can wait until he’s able to work again. Today, we’re going through all those horses we picked up from those Mejicano outlaws. There must be at least two that have pulled a wagon before, and that’s the two we’re looking for. We’ll have to use two horses. Horse beside a horse, and mule beside a mule. We’ll tie the other two mules on lead ropes behind the wagon, just so old three-legs don’t come down with the wanderlust again.”
“He may not be able to walk on that leg as soon as tomorrow,” said Becky.
“Then he’ll walk on three legs,” Lonnie said, “unless you aim to hog-tie him and stuff him in the wagon.”
They all laughed except Becky, and finally she joined in. She was changing, and for the better. Lonnie winked at her.
Having devoted much of the day to finding and freeing the wandering mule, there was little to be gained by continuing the drive before the next morning. Even then, the mule might not be able to stand on the injured leg.
“Justin,” said Lonnie, “there’s still plenty of daylight left. Take Wovoka with you and scout maybe twenty miles ahead. The rest of us are going to try and find a pair of horses who aren’t strangers to a wagon, if we can.”
Justin and Wovoka rode out.
“How do you know if a horse can be hitched to a wagon or not?” Becky asked.
“We’ll choose some of the calmest ones we can find,” said Lonnie, “and they’ll have to be geldings. Then we’ll hitch them to the wagon and see how they behave.”
“They still may raise hell when they find they’re hitched up with a team of mules,” said Kirby Lowe.
“Maybe not,” said Lonnie.
They walked among the grazing horses, ruffling the ears of those coming close enough. One of the blacks particularly impressed Lonnie. He put his arm around the horse’s neck, and the animal nickered. Lonnie led him away from the others.
“Here’s another,” Waco Talley said, leading a second black.
“The rest of you keep looking,” said Lonnie. “Waco and me will try these two.”
“We goin’ to hitch the mules up with them?” Waco asked.
“Not yet,” said Lonnie. “If they don’t go crazy when we harness and hitch them to the wagon, I think they’ll accept the two mules.”
“The mules may not accept them,” Waco said.
“Then we’ll use the pair of mules for the lead team and put blinders on the varmints,” said Lonnie. “They won’t be able to see the pair of horses behind them.”
The horses stood quietly, accepting the harness. Once harnessed, they obligingly back-stepped up to the wagon.
“They’re no strangers to a wagon,” Waco said.
“We’ll go with these two,” said Lonnie. “I doubt we could do any better.”
Removing the harness from the two blacks, Lonnie and Waco led them back to the rest of the herd.
“We’ve found a couple more friendly ones,” Dallas said.
“Keep them in mind, in case we need them,” said Lonnie. “These two blacks have been hitched to a wagon before. We’ll go with them.”
“Lonnie,” Becky said, “before we get into Paiute country, Mindy, April, Laura, and me would like to have a bath in the river.”
“I can’t help feeling that’s a bad idea,” said Lonnie. “Some of us would have to go with you and keep watch. That’s not … quite proper.”
“I’ve been called a gentleman,” Kirby said. “I’ll go along and stand watch.”
“What are you going to be watching?” asked Laura suspiciously.
That struck Becky, Mindy, and April as hilariously funny.
“See that bend in the river down yonder?” Lonnie said. “The four of you can go just around that bend, out of sight. Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and me will be on this side of the bend waiting for you. If you see anything suspicious, get out of there and holler for us.”
With blankets for towels, the four women started toward the bend in the river, with Lonnie, Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby following.
“I don’t like this,” said Dallas. “We’re not quite in Paiute country, but we’re not out of Comanche country, either. This would be a grand time for Indians to show up.”
“Maybe they won’t be in the water too long,” Lonnie said. “It’ll be muddy, with them stomping around.”
Lonnie and his companions waited around the bend, near enough to hear the splashing in the water. Muddy as the water was, the women were enjoying its welcome coolness.
“Suppose they’re peeking at us through the bushes,” Laura said. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“I don’t know about Dallas, Dirk, and Kirby,” Becky said, “but Lonnie wouldn’t stoop that low, and he’d give the others hell if they get any ideas.”
“Snake,” April screamed, and started for the river’s west bank. She slipped, fell, got up, and screamed again.
Becky, Mindy, and Laura stumbled out behind her. But Lonnie and his companions had heard only the screams.
“Come on,” Lonnie shouted. “Something’s happened.”
The four naked women stood on the opposite bank of the river looking helpless.
“What the hell is it?” Lonnie demanded.
“A snake,” said April in a trembling voice. “A big snake.”
“You saw it?” Dirk asked.
“I didn’t have to see it,” said April fearfully. “I stepped on it.”
“Where are your clothes and blankets?” Lonnie asked.
“Over there,” said Becky, “in the brush behind you.”
“Oh, great,” Lonnie said. “You’ll all have to come back across.”
“Not me,” said April, shuddering. “I’ll stand here naked until … until …”
“Until everybody’s had a chance to see you without your britches,” Dirk said.
She had some choice words for Dirk, and the other women, struck by the humor of the situation, laughed.
“Are you crossing this damn river or do I have to come and get you?” Dirk snarled.
“Come and get me,” said April defiantly, her hands on her hips.
There was a shallows where the water was only knee-deep. Without a word, stepping into the river, Dirk waded across. Seizing April, he flung her over his shoulder head-down and carried her to the opposite bank.
“Now,” Dirk said, standing her on her feet, “get your damn clothes on, and don’t be expecting another bath unless it rains.”
April’s three companions still stood on the opposite bank of the river.
“I reckon Dirk’s got the right idea,” said Lonnie. “Come on.”
He waded across the river, followed by Dallas and Kirby. There was a hint of amusement in the eyes of the three women as they each were shouldered and taken across the river. April appeared to be in no hurry drying herself with a blanket. Dirk stood glaring at her, unsure as to what he should say or do. Wisely, he said nothing. The other three women took their time drying themselves, while Lonnie, Dallas, and Kirby were as silent as Dirk. Finally, when the women were again dressed, they followed Lonnie, Dallas, Kirby, and Dirk back to camp. The four looked grim, and the rest of the outfit decided not to ask any questions as to what might have happened. Lonnie went to the wagon and got two tins of grease. He and his three companions, once their sodden boots had dried, would be forced to grease them. Otherwise, the leather would become as stiff and hard as a shingle from a south Texas barn. Several hours before sundown, Becky, Mindy, April, and Laura began supper. They still had dried apples, and as the fruit boiled, Wovoka and Justin rode in. The Indian eyed the cooking pot in anticipation.
“No Indian sign,” said Justin. “Why are you hombres wet to the knees?”
“We’ve been wading in the river,” Lonnie said sourly. “By God, don’t ask why.”
Justin shrugged his shoulders and began unsaddling his horse. Wovoka had unsaddled his mount and sat cross-legged near the cooking fire.
“Look at him,” said Becky. “Feed him dried apple pies, and he never speaks an unkind word. I wish all men were like that.”
“In snow country, when it’s storming, an Indian leaves his squaw outside, bringing his horse into the teepee,” Lonnie said. “Maybe the rest of us could learn from him.”
“With me,” said Becky, “that would happen only once.”
The others said nothing, and Lonnie chose not to continue the tirade. Supper was eaten mostly in silence, and when the first watch rode out, April and Laura made no effort to go with it. Dirk McNelly and Kirby Lowe rode together, discussing the afternoon’s events.
“Why the hell are they down on us?” Kirby wondered. “It was their idea, taking a dip in the river. We only went down there after April screeched like el Diablo himself had hold of her. Was it our fault they was all standin’ there jaybird naked?”
“No,” said Dirk, “and what burns my tail feathers is why they didn’t come out on the riverbank where they’d left their clothes. I ain’t makin’ any excuses or apologies.”
“Tarnation, you’re right,” Kirby said. “Hell, we don’t even know it was a snake. Might have been a tree root We done what we thought was right.”
When the second watch rode out, Becky didn’t ride with Lonnie, nor did Mindy ride with Dallas. Like Dirk and Kirby had already done, Lonnie and Dallas pondered the unusual circumstances.
“I don’t understand why they’re put out with us,” Dallas complained. “It wasn’t like we were spying on them, when April was screeching and howling.”
“Sooner or later, we’ll have to have it out with them,” said Lonnie, “but I’m with you. I don’t aim to make any excuses. If she gives me hell, I’ll hand it right back. I didn’t say anything yet, but I didn’t tie the knot with Becky to have here standin’ there before other hombres, jaybird naked.”
“The other hombres meanin’ Dirk, Kirby, and me,” Dallas said.
“Yeah,” said Lonnie, “but I don’t aim to take it out on any of you. In fact, I reckon I won’t say another word about it. Hell, I ain’t gonna fight with Becky from here to Utah.”
“I reckon you got the right idea,” Dallas said. “Let’s talk to Dirk and Kirby. Without any of us raising hell about it, we’ll see how long these females go on blaming us.”
*Because of a difference in stride, a mule wasn’t compatible in harness beside a horse.