Garrity looked back at Wildon and pointed to the ground. “Here’s the trail we lost, sir. It’s popped up again in this softer ground.”
Wildon glanced downward, recognizing the marks they had spend so much time trailing but had lost when the terrain turned rockier. They led straight to a path that ascended into the boulders above. The military side of his mind spoke out.
“I would imagine that track is well guarded,” he said. “It certainly would be if I were charged with its defense.”
“Yes, sir,” Garrity said. “The bandits will have a series of guard posts all the way up there to the entrance of their camp. It’s something they picked up from Injuns. The only difference is that picket duty is voluntary in the tribes. I’d be willing to bet the bandit leader makes sure this place is secured proper.” He indicated another area that offered a way to the top. This was trackless country, strewn with boulders. “It’ll take longer, but it’s a guarantee we’ll at least make it.”
“Isn’t there a chance of patrols?” Wildon asked. Garrity nodded. “There sure is, sir, and we’d better be ready for them.” He loosened the pistol in his holster. “Ready to go?”
Wildon followed his example, but also pulled his Winchester up a couple of inches. “I’ll be using this if we have an unexpected meeting.”
“Good idea, sir,” Garrity said. “But it’ll take both hands on the reins to handle these animals. That’s pretty steep terrain there.” He urged his horse forward and, with Wildon close behind, began the slow ascent.
The mountain side offered more problems other than its steep angle. Large boulders, some piled on top of others, were packed close together. On several occasions, the two riders were forced to back down or turn around when what promised to be a good avenue to the top turned out to be a dead end.
The horses, good military mounts, did as well as possible as their hooves clattered over the rocky ground. They snorted and strained, doing the duty required of them. Finally Wildon and Garrity, both dedicated horsemen and cavalry soldiers, put the condition of their animals ahead of everything else.
“If we don’t give ’em a breather, they’ll bust their hearts,” Garrity said.
Wildon leaned forward a bit and patted his horse on the neck. “These fine fellows deserve some consideration.”
They dismounted and led the steeds by the reins, taking away most of the physical strain for the noble beasts.
Several times, Garrity left his horse with Wildon and went ahead on foot to check out a potential pathway. If it was a good one, he came back and got his horse to continue the climb. If not, he tried other approaches until he found one that would take them higher toward the objective.
Three hours of the strenuous work was exhausting. Soaked in sweat and breathing hard from the exertion, Wildon and Garrity had to rest. But it would have been foolhardy to relax in the open. After a half-hour of searching, they found some cover back in a small tree-filled ravine. The cavalrymen wanted only to sit down and let their fatigue-cramped muscles relax. Once they were inside the small grove of trees, they found something else—a stream of cool water.
Trickling down from above, the little creek was not more than a foot wide. They first saw to it that their faithful mounts got all of the refreshing liquid they wanted. After the horses had slaked their thirst, the two soldiers thought of their own physical comfort. Garrity stuck his face in the water and drank long and deep.
“You’d better take it easy, Sergeant,” Wildon cautioned him. “You’re supposed to drink sparingly when you’re hot and thirsty. That’s one thing I did learn at West Point.”
Garrity shook his head. “Pardon me, Lieutenant, but that’s so much hog swill. I’ve heard that for years, but a few summers of campaigning has taught me differ’nt. That includes this part of the country for quite a few years and some real blistering weather from Virginia down to Georgia. That experience taught me that when the temperature is up, it’s a big help to fill yourself with water. You’re dried Out and you need it.” The sergeant went back to his hard consumption from the stream.
Wildon joined him, at first trying to drink a little bit. But within moments, he was gulping it down as fast as the sergeant. He finally had his fill. “Damn,” he sighed. “That does feel better, doesn’t it?”
“Never argue with an old sergeant,” Garrity said, winking at the young lieutenant. He pointed upward to where the source of the water that trickled into the ravine would be located. “Clear, cold water like this comes from a mountain spring. When we get to the top, we can use the pool to drink out of. That’ll be where this stuff is coming from. And we can follow the stream straight up.”
Their canteens had been filled from the river by the farming village. The water was warm and stale. They poured it out and refilled the containers. Finally refreshed and feeling good, the two soldiers took their horses’ reins and resumed the tortuous route to the top of Bandido Mountain.
~*~
Hester watched dully as Senora Gonzales supervised the other two Mexican women. They dragged a heavy copper bathtub into the room. The old woman issued some quick orders and her charges scurried away. She went to a cupboard in the corner of the room and took out a large thick towel, a washcloth, and a bar of soap. She laid them on a chair by the tub.
Moments later the other two returned with pots of hot water. They poured the water into the tub and went out for more. When it was full, they withdrew. Senora Gonzales nodded to Hester. “Ahorra, bafiate, gringita.” Then she walked out of the room and closed the door.
Hester looked at the inviting bath, hot and steamy, with the soap and towels nearby. The thought of slipping into the water almost made her swoon. She walked over and stood beside the tub. She knew that the week on the wagon train and the wild ride up the mountain had left her sweaty and sticky. But she also knew that to bathe and refresh herself would make her more desirable to the love-mad Mauveaux. A chance existed also that he might suddenly appear in the room while she was naked and vulnerable.
Hester decided against a full bath, but she gave in enough to wash her face and hands. She bent down and picked up the soap. She gasped when she saw its brand name was Bristol. This sign from home made her feel sentimental and sad. Slowly, she dipped her hands into the bath and wet her face. Then, using the washcloth, she carefully washed.
When Hester finished, she felt much better even with that small amount of bathing. She walked to the barred window of the room and gazed up at the wall of boulders that surrounded the bandit camp. The realization that the route to Wildon and freedom was just on the other side was a tantalizing, emotional torture.
Hester stood gazing outward for a long time while the shadows lengthened across the interior of the settlement. A sudden wave of grief swept over her, and she wept silently in despair and frustration. The melancholy feeling was abruptly swept away by the sudden sound of feminine voices in the other room. Hester wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. Two women were approaching the door, their rapid speech growing louder. She recognized one as Senora Gonzales, but the other was that of a much younger woman—and it was shrill with bristling anger.
The door burst open and the two women entered. The younger was the beautiful, svelte Mexican woman Hester had seen when she was brought into the camp. She glared at the American, her hands on her hip in a challenging manner.
“Yo soy Lola—I am Lola!”
The old woman grabbed Lola’s arm and pulled at her, muttering angrily in Spanish.
Lola pushed Señora Gonzales away. The old woman persisted in trying to pull her from the room. With growing irritation, Lola turned and grabbed her and, shoving her through the door, slammed it shut with a vicious push. The housekeeper yelled from the other room; then her footsteps could be heard scurrying away. Lola walked boldly into the room, striding around and around Hester. She pointed to the bath water. “Hey! You don’t like to be clean?”
Hester, fearless, stood her ground. “Is there something I might do for you?”
Lola grabbed her nose. “Que pistosa! You stink!”
This was worse than anything that had happened to her. It was a real insult to her dignity from a social inferior. Hester’s hand lashed out, striking Lola in the face. “Shut your mouth, you miserable wench!”
“Ay!” Lola cried out, holding her stung cheek. “I get you for that, gringa!” She charged forward and grabbed Hester. “I make you sorry you take my Humberto!”
Hester grasped the Mexican woman and swung her around. Both went down and rolled across the floor, screaming and clawing at each other. Lola ended up on top, but Hester remembered seeing her boy cousins wrestle and recalled a trick they used to employ when one had pinned down the other. She swung one leg up and locked it around Lola’s face and pulled her down and off her. Reacting quickly, Hester sat up and jumped on her adversary.
Senora Gonzales, with two men from the settlement, rushed back into the room, screaming hysterically. Laughing, the bandits pulled Hester free, then grabbed Lola and dragged her toward the door screaming in rage. The shrieking continued all the way through the next room and out into the hall.
Hester ran to the barred window and looked down in the darkening compound to see Lola still being pulled away. Hester took a deep breath and shouted, “Let that be a lesson to you! We Bristol women are fighters!”
The old woman, slowly shaking her head, looked at Hester. “Ya ahorra tienes una enimiga bien peligrosa—now you got bad enemy!”
~*~
Wildon and Garrity led their horses back into a small box canyon. Its fifty-yard length curved slightly around to a point that concealed the back from the entrance.
“This may be home for a few days, sir,” Garrity said. “So let’s make it comfortable and safe. The first thing to do is take some branches, and brush away our tracks leading into here.”
“Right,” Wildon agreed. “I’ll take care of that.”
“Fine, sir,” Garrity said. “I’ll fix up some brush here so’s we can’t be spotted from above. Then we’ll take a look around.”
The chore took a quarter of an hour. It had grown much darker by the time they finished. Wildon glanced upward at the sky. “That full moon is mighty bright.”
“Just what the doctor ordered, sir,” Garrity said. “It’s giving off enough light to make a reconnaissance mission possible.”
After making sure their horses were comfortable, the two cavalrymen set out on foot to ascend to a point of observation on the bandit camp perimeter. It was easy to move silently through the rocks. The large formations were close together, offering good footholds. When they reached the top, they found they could peer straight down into the settlement.
Garrity tapped Wildon’s shoulder. “There’s a good place over there, sir.” He pointed to a place where a large, flat-topped boulder slanted upward. “Let’s perch awhile,” Wildon suggested.
The pair crossed a couple of ledges, then stepped onto the slab of rock. Lying down, they crawled up to the edge and gazed down on what was really a small town.
“Jesus!” Garrity said. “There’s a lot o’ them bastards, ain’t there?”
“There certainly is, Sergeant,” Wildon said. “They didn’t have a quarter of their full strength with them during the attack on the baggage train.”
“That shows that whoever’s running that outfit has military training,” Garrity said. “He knew how many wagons and men we had.”
“There’s no doubt about it,” Wildon said. “He probably scouted us first. I wonder why none of our flankers spotted them.”
“Fellers like that have spent their whole lives sneaking around,” Garrity said. “Hunting as youngsters, then fighting as full-growed men. They do it so much it becomes second nature with ’em.”
“They’re good all right,” Wildon allowed.
“Yes, sir. And their leader took the right amount of men to do the job. The only thing he didn’t know was that we wasn’t carrying nothing worth the effort. Mulvaney told us he saw ’em look in the wagons.”
“Lord above!” Wildon exclaimed. “It gives you chills, doesn’t it? They could have wiped us .all out.”
“It means, Lieutenant, that getting your missus outta there is gonna be that much harder,” Garrity said. “But we’ll do it.”
“Damned right we will, Sergeant,” Wildon said. They spent a half-hour watching the activities of the town. The one large building in the center dominated the scene. Garrity studied it for a while. “That’s gotta be their headquarters,” he concluded.
“That’s where they’ll have Hester,” Wildon said.
“Maybe,” Garrity said. He wanted to say that it depended on which bandit owned her, but he didn’t see the point in adding to the officer’s misery.
Sudden shouting broke out by one of the huts. The two soldiers looked over and saw a pair of bandits yelling and gesturing at each other. One went for his pistol, working smooth and fast, shooting the other one down. A few others came up, and the arguing continued until more shots exploded over the scene. The episode ended with a total of three bodies sprawled in front of the hut. “Cold-blooded bastards,” Garrity remarked. “God!” Wildon said. “We’ve got to get Hester out of there quick.”
Garrity noticed something else. “There’s an entrance in the rocks down there to the left. See?” Wildon peered intently. “Right! It’s big enough to ride horses through.” He looked at Garrity. “You appear to have formulated a plan.”
“I think we should pull out of here now and get a good night’s rest,” Garrity suggested. “This place is hidden enough that we can spend all day tomorrow keeping an eye on the place and really learn its layout. More importantly, we’ll see what them nasty folks down there all do with their time. Maybe we can slip into their routine.”
“Then what?” Wildon asked.
“Then tomorrow night, we ride in and join the population,” Garrity said. “If we’re bold enough, maybe they’ll think we’re just a couple of the boys.”
“Do you really think we could get away with that?” Wildon asked.
“We’d better,” Garrity said. “Or we’ll end up like them three fellers.” He pointed down to the trio of men killed in the gunfight.
Other bandits were now dragging the corpses away.