CHAPTER 24
Worst part about leaving—in the cooler morning air—had to be him kissing her good-bye. He’d miss her and she’d do the same about him. However this move was necessary. Stop the Comanche before they struck . . . and he hoped his lightning force was fast and strong enough to handle the matter.
At the moment they had his complete faith. They would meet their painted red faces and turn them back to where they came from. Time would tell, and by late afternoon they were at the well-guarded South Ranch. Hoot came out to meet them wearing his large gray Boss of the Plains Stetson hat.
“Well they didn’t swallow you in Kansas. How are you, Long?”
“Great. We had a successful trip north. No big problems. Lost one cowboy, and a young boy who came down with a fever.”
“That may be a record ain’t it?”
“Might be. What are the Comanche up to this morning?”
“One of the men shot two of them three days ago at a watering hole.”
“How was that?”
“We knew they had been drinking there. Ross Durban laid low up there. He wanted a shot at them. The boys even took his horse away so they’d not see it. Three of them bucks came to water about daylight. They were stripped to the waist and had yellow and red war paint all over their bodies.
“One was on his belly getting a drink, one on foot. The third on a horse. Ross shot the horseman, reloaded his single-shot sniper rifle with another bullet and managed to get the drinker. The other one got away, but those two were dead. His fifty-caliber Sharps put them both out of their misery. He ended up with two good war ponies he caught. Rode one of them back and he led number two to the ranch. Things have been slower since then.”
“I can imagine. But can we still use a force to sweep our ranges of them?”
“Tomorrow Ross can show you some other places where they’ve been. Wash up. My wife will feed you all at the house.”
“What about your men?”
“They will eat the next shift. They aren’t back yet.”
“Okay, we’ll get our horses unloaded and we will be there,” Long said.
“Good. She will love to see you.”
“Men, unload and put the horses up. Wash up. Food’s on at the house.”
They thanked him and took Long’s horse.
Then Long and Hoot started for the house.
“How is your wife?”
“Pregnant again. Mexican women can get that way at the drop of the hat, but she loves the big house and loves having babies, so who the hell am I to complain. You know I thought I’d live out my life in Mexico. I had no fortune, no big ranch, and a few years ago when there were no markets, hell there was no need in having cattle. Figured I’d get me a hacienda and eat frijoles until I died.”
“But Dad got you off your rump, out of your hammock, and made you come help us?”
“He damn sure did. I never believed the cattle business would be this damn good this long. You had to own a thousand of them and they barely paid expenses. I thought he’d lost his mind branding all them worthless mavericks with you boys. That old son of a buck knew damn good and well it would change. Now who in the blazes told him that?”
“Intuition.”
“Aw, who in the hell is that?”
“It ain’t anyone. Something in his head told him that and it worked.”
“What else will do that same thing then?”
“I don’t have any of it. He has it and Harp and I are working it hard.”
Hoot took his hat off and beat on his dusty chaps with it. “I want a better explanation than that.”
“That is simply what it is.”
“Sounds like ammunition.”
“No. It might blow up but it is not real explosive. It is like you seeing something in mesquite beans to market and know they will be best sellers and you corner the mesquite bean market.”
“How do you get it?”
“I guess study some things until you find a winner.”
“I hated studying when I was a kid. Like why know what six times seven amounts to? I don’t give a damn. I know it and never used it in my life one time. And the teacher rapped me on the back of my hand for saying, ‘I will never use that in my life.’”
Long was laughing washing up on the back porch. He dried off and followed him inside.
Hoot’s wife’s welcomed him with a hug and then handed him a cup of coffee.
“It is hot but it is your brand. I am glad you buy that brand for all of us. How is your lovely wife?”
“Jan sends her best to all of you. We are hitting the brush so she stayed at home.”
“Good idea. These Comanche have us all upset.”
“You’re safe here. They want defenseless people and to kidnap their children.”
“Why do you think they do that?”
“A professor once told me Comanche women rode horses and lose them. They have a very low birth rate so they steal young white and brown children to raise them as Comanche.”
“I would hate to live with them. They smell bad.”
Long agreed.
Hoot shook his head. “You should teach school. I never knew what intuition was. I also never heard them redskins had a low birth rate.”
“Listen, when I was a boy I wanted to shoot crows with a twenty-two rather than study.”
“But today it stuck to you that is all that matters.”
One of the house girls brought him a plate with browned beef and corn on the cob. She then brought him some fry bread and a bowl of frijoles. That set down before him she asked if he needed anything else.
“No, and thanks. It smells wonderful.” He turned to Hoot seated across from him and not eating. “We had no mesquite fires in Kansas to cook beef over. Maybe you could cut down mesquite and sell it to them. I missed having it up there.”
Hoot made a painful face. “Won’t be me cuts it down.”
They both laughed.
That night he met Hoot’s Indian hunter, Ross Durban. They talked about Comanche and where to find their camps to attack them on a hit-and-run basis. Durban shared his thoughts on where they might find them. The man was past his twenties, had shoulder-length brown hair, mustache, and a beard. After a short conversation Long considered him to be a damn good tough scout, and, with his skills, they might actually send the Comanche packing from their country.
Fight fire with fire his father told him several times, and that meant making a surprise raid on them in their camp, so in the morning they were going to try to run them down. The tough men Long brought would ride with him and Durban, aiming to find and make a hard raid on the Comanche secreted in the hills of ranchland the family owned.
“I feel we will find them in the drainage of Wooly Creek and Kennedy Branch,” Durban told Long. “That’s the country I found the most signs.”
“You know that country better than any man. We can head there. Taking only three pack animals with us will make us mobile, but we will need to be resupplied on the third day.”
Durban agreed that if they were not resupplied, their efforts would be shut down or weakened.
Hoot said that they need not worry—they would be supplied.
Before he undressed, Long stood in the dark bedroom and stared out into the moonlit yard. He felt the risk they planned would work, if they could manage the surprise. They simply had to do it right.