Devil's Canyon Page 10

  “You got it,” Shanghai said. “Come on, Collins.”

  Leading his horse until he was almost out of Winchester range, Faro headed down the canyon rim. While Shanghai and Collins must remain far enough back from the rim so as not to be seen, Faro could see them from his lower elevation, far down the canyon. With a leather thong he bound the oilskin-wrapped bundle of dynamite to his saddle horn, and from an oilskin pouch he removed half a dozen matches. These he clenched in his teeth for the time of need. It was still early enough until there was no wind, and Faro looped the reins about a sapling so the horse wouldn’t spook. On the rim, Shanghai spoke.

  “We may not have much time, Collins. Soon as them braves light out down-canyon, get over that rim as quick as you can. This end of the rope will be looped around my saddle horn, so I’ll be free for some Winchester work from up here. Get ready. Faro will cut loose pronto.”

  Shanghai had barely spoken the words when Faro cut loose with the Winchester. The first three shots dropped two Indians and had the desired effect. The rest of the braves ran for their horses, and galloping them close to the canyon walls, went after Faro. Collins was down the doubled rope in an instant, just in time to face a screeching squaw with a knife in her hand. Collins caught the upraised arm and flung her head-first into the stone wall of the canyon.

  “Levi,” Odessa cried, “thank God.”

  She seemed about to throw her arms around him, but Collins wouldn’t have it.

  “Raise your arms, damn it,” Collins snapped.

  She did, and Collins slipped the noose over her head and under her arms. Shanghai was ready, and she gasped as the rope went taut and she was lifted off the ground. Collins had to fend off two more knife-wielding squaws before Odessa was safely to the rim. The rope was dropped a second time, and without a word, Mamie raised her arms. Quickly, Collins dropped the loop into position, and Mamie was pulled to safety.

  “Damn,” Faro said, as the charging Utes kept close to the canyon wall from which he was firing. After dropping the first two, he hadn’t accounted for any of the others, for he lacked a target. Quickly, he withdrew a stick of dynamite, thumbed a match into flame, and lighted the fuse. While he was unable to throw the dynamite among them, he did the next best thing. He threw it as far as he could, dropping it on the canyon rim. The explosion had the desired effect, loosing massive amounts of rock and dirt. There were the shouts of Indians and the scream of horses, and before the echo of the first blast had died away, Faro threw a second stick of dynamite. The Indians who had survived turned their horses and galloped up-canyon, shouting as they saw Levi Collins being lifted from the canyon’s floor. Barely missing him, arrows thunked into the canyon wall. While Faro was well out of range, Shanghai Taylor had perfect targets. He shot three Indians off their horses, forcing the others to back off.

  “That’s enough, Shanghai,” said Faro under his breath. “Ride, damn it, ride.”

  Seizing Odessa, Collins all but threw her astraddle his horse.

  “Damn it,” Odessa snapped, “must you be so rough? I’ve had enough of that.”

  “Shut up,” said Collins in a dangerously calm voice.

  Mamie said nothing as Shanghai Taylor helped her astraddle his horse. He mounted and led out, Collins following.

  “I suppose it would have been expecting too much for you to have brought us some blankets,” Odessa said. “Or do you not care if everybody sees us jaybird naked?”

  “At this point,” said Collins shortly, “I don’t care a damn if everybody in California, New Mexico, and all points in between see you just as you are right now. I doubt that Durham will be shocked, for he’s seen it all before.”

  Nothing more was said, and despite possible pursuit, they were forced to stop and rest the lathered horses. It was there that Faro joined them.

  “You done it just right, amigo,” Shanghai said.

  “You and Collins handled your part of it pretty slick,” said Faro. “The three of us might have been killed, and we didn’t get a scratch.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters to you that Odessa and me are bloodied and hurting,” Mamie said.

  “Not really,” said Faro. “You could have been bloodied and dead if we hadn’t risk our necks comin’ after you.”

  Faro studied them critically. They were a mess, and, knowing it, had the grace to blush. Faro laughed.

  “Go ahead and get your eyes full,” Mamie said. “When we get back to camp, perhaps we’ll climb up on a wagon box, so the others can have a good look.”

  “Not a bad idea,” said Shanghai. “Why limit yourselves to a tin-horn gambler? Any one of us is a better man than Durham. Just let us know when to meet you under the wagon.”

  While the McCutcheons deserved it, they didn’t like it. Faro and Collins roared with laughter. Quickly, Faro became serious.

  “We’d better ride. We hurt those Indians, but there’s still more of them than of us. If they catch up to us, I doubt we can escape them.”

  With two of the horses carrying double, it was an obvious truth. But they reached the wagons without difficulty. When Mamie and Odessa were lifted off the horses, Dallas Weaver and Tarno Spangler looked on with interest.

  “Go ahead and look,” said Odessa, raising her hands above her head. “The others have had their chance, and we wouldn’t want the rest of you to be left out.”

  “We’re obliged, ma’am,” Tarno said, with as straight a face as he could manage.

  “Sí,” Dallas agreed.

  Solemnly the pair circled the women, studying them from various angles. It all became so ridiculous, Mamie laughed.

  “I reckon the two of you had better spend some time at the creek,” Faro said, “but not a step farther.”

  “Perhaps you’d better send someone to watch us, so we don’t stray,” said Odessa.

  “After last night,” Faro said, “I reckon I had. Tarno, you and Dallas go with them to the creek and see that they don’t do anything foolish.”

  “Sí,” said Tarno. “Even if they do somethin’ foolish, we’ll see that the Indians don’t get ’em.”

  “By the way,” Faro said, “did Durham ever show?”

  “For a few minutes,” said Dallas. “Tarno had his Bowie and was about to whittle off a part of the gambler’s carcass he didn’t figure he could do without. Last time we seen him, he was headed into the brush.”

  “If the Indians get him, it’s his funeral,” Shanghai said. “I ain’t riskin’ my hide again today, especially for him.”

  “I feel the same way,” said Collins.

  But Durham had found his clothing and dressed himself. He appeared just as the McCutcheons returned, naked, from the creek. He watched with interest, his face revealing nothing.

  “We’ve lost half a day,” Faro said. “We move out in half an hour. Odessa, are you able to return to the wagon?”

  “Yes,” said Odessa sourly, “and I’m going just like I am, without a stitch.”

  “I couldn’t care less,” Faro said, “but there may be splinters on that wagon box.”

  They all laughed—even Mamie—and when Odessa mounted the wagon box, she was dressed. Again the wagons rolled west, while Faro scouted ahead.

  * * *

  The twin explosions along the back trail were heard by Perro Cara and his outfit.

  “Dynamite,” Slade observed.

  “Yeah,” said Kritzer, “but why? Could this gold strike be somewhere behind us?”

  “I don’t think so,” Slade said. “That second blast sounded like an echo of the first, so it couldn’t have anything to do with the gold strike.”

  “Here comes Dog Face,” said Hindes. “Explain it to him.”

  “You heard them explosions,” Dog Face said. “You got any answers?”

  “No,” said Slade, “but I doubt it has anything to do with the gold strike.”

  “Then you don’t think the claim’s somewhere behind us.”

  “No,” Slade said. “Word I had was them wagons is
travelin’ five hundred miles, back into these mountains, and they ain’t gone near that far. You’re friendly with this bunch of Indians. Why don’t you send a couple of them along the back trail to read sign?”

  “I already have,” said Dog Face. “I just wanted your thinkin’.”

  “By God, he don’t trust us,” Hindes said when the renegade leader had gone.

  “No,” said Peeler. “He just tried to trick you into sayin’ somethin’ he could use agin us. We better watch for a chance, and when it comes, run for it.”

  “Hell, he don’t trust Sangre and Hueso,” Slade said. “Why should he trust us? Until them wagons reach the gold strike, we’re safer here than anywhere else.”

  “I’m with Slade,” said Withers. “If we break with this outfit now, we’ll have all them after us, along with God knows how many other Utes, as well as them hombres with the wagons.”

  “I’ll stay for the time bein’,” Hindes said, “but the first time that one-eyed varmint looks slant-ways at me, with his gun in his hand, I’m gone.”

  “Your choice,” said Slade. “If you’re smart, you’ll stick until we can all make a run for it together.”

  They waited, bickering among themselves, until the Indians sent to investigate the explosions returned. Again Dog Face approached, and when he spoke, he seemed a bit more genial.

  “You was right, Slade. The explosions had nothin’ to do with the claim. Them Utes grabbed a couple of captives, and the teamsters went after ’em. Found their camp in a canyon, and dynamited a wall. Pretty slick.”

  “Just don’t forget they got dynamite,” said Slade. “A man that knows how to use the stuff can lick an army.”

  “I’m considerin’ that,” Dog Face said. “Before we clash with them, we may have to take the dynamite away from them.”

  “That I’ll have to see,” said Slade.

  “Oh, you will,” Dog Face said. “You’ll be right in the midst of it.”

  He turned away, leaving Slade wondering what he meant. Hindes looked at Slade with humor in his eyes, but had the good sense not to speak.

  * * *

  “We’ll be crossing four streams,” said Faro, when he returned to the wagons. “Could all be tributaries from the same river.”

  “They are,” Collins said. “They flow into the San Juan. Once we cross the fourth, we will have traveled about one-third of our journey. Two-thirds of the way in, we’ll cross the Colorado.”

  “One other thing,” said Faro. “I found tracks of two unshod horses headed northeast. Could be scouts from that bunch ahead of us, checking out the explosions.”

  “That’s bad news,” Dallas Weaver said. “If they’re bein’ led by a white renegade, he’ll know about dynamite, and there goes our edge.”

  “Maybe not,” said Faro. “They don’t know how much we have, or how handy we are in the use of it. Any fool can blow up a canyon wall. I have other plans.”

  “They may attack us in force, planning to take the wagons and the dynamite from us,” Collins said. “That would kill any plans you have for the dynamite.”

  “I doubt the Utes have any interest in anything but the wagons and their contents,” Faro said, “and for that reason—if we’re dealing with a white renegade—I expect him to hold them off as long as he can. With their larger numbers, we can’t afford to wait for them to come after us. We’ll have to take the fight to them.”

  “You have the experience,” said Collins, “so I’m not even going to ask how and when you intend to do that.”

  “Well, I am,” Durham said. “The Utes walked off with Mamie and Odessa right under Duval’s nose, so I don’t have all that much confidence in his judgment.”

  “Durham,” said Faro, “it was you who created the necessary diversion for that sorry situation last night. If you so much as mention it again, I’ll beat your ears down to the tops of your boots. As for my judgment, you’re stuck with it as long as you’re part of this outfit. Makin’ it as plain as I know how, you’re welcome to get the hell out of here, anytime you feel so inclined.”

  Durham wasn’t in the least disturbed, nor did he appear angry. He laughed, and then he spoke.

  “I’ll endure your bad judgment for a while, Duval, and when I go, it’ll be my choice, not yours.”

  He then mounted his horse and rode back beyond the fifth wagon.

  “Damn him,” said Mamie, drawing her Colt, “I’ll fix him.”

  “I don’t think so,” Shanghai said, seizing the weapon. “You fixed him last night.”

  “Back to your wagons,” said Faro. “We’re movin’ out.”

  Mamie mounted her horse and Shanghai handed her the Colt. She colored, refusing to look him in the eye. Faro had again taken the reins, and Levi Collins rode ahead, as the five wagons again rumbled westward.

  The Sevier River, Southwestern Utah.

  August 20, 1870.

  The trio of besieged miners awaiting the return of Levi Collins were forced to take stock of their precarious situation.

  “Since we agreed to stay here and watch over the claim, things have changed,” Isaac Puckett pointed out. “We wasn’t plannin’ on fightin’ the Utes every blessed day and usin’ up all our ammunition, and we wasn’t expectin’ it to take Levi so long.”

  “I agree,” said Felix Blackburn. “These are things that Levi and none of us expected, so none of us are at fault, except for countin’ too strong on things we couldn’t be sure of. We don’t know, for starters, if Levi ever made it to Santa Fe alive, or if he did, whether he was able to find teamsters to freight our stuff in.”

  “Yeah,” Josh Snyder agreed, “and if he did, they may be fightin’ Utes all the way. We can’t set here until we’re down to our last shells. We’ll have to run for it.”

  “I think you’re right,” said Puckett. “Felix?”

  “Much as I hate to give it up,” Blackburn said, “I reckon we’d better go while we’ve still got some ammunition. We won’t have to worry about the Utes takin’ the claim, and if we do meet Levi, we’ll have ammunition to fight our way back in. If Levi didn’t make it, then we still got a small chance of gettin’ out of here alive.”

  “What about the mules?” Snyder asked.

  “We’ll have to leave them,” said Blackburn. “In either case, we won’t need them. If we meet Levi with wagons, we’ll be dependin’ on them. If we don’t, and I get out of here with my hair, I won’t be comin’ back, gold or no gold.”

  “Neither will I,” his companions said in a single voice.

  “So far, the Utes ain’t bothered us at night,” Blackburn said, “and that leads me to believe they ain’t watchin’ us that close. Soon as it’s dark, we’ll make our break, walkin’ the horses as far as we can.”

  “I think we’d be better off travelin’ at night and hidin’ out durin’ the day,” said Josh Snyder.

  “I don’t agree with that,” Blackburn replied. “This is the damndest canyon country I’ve ever seen. In the dark, you could ride off a rim and fall a hundred feet.”

  “True enough,” said Puckett, “but can we afford to devote the nights to hidin’ out? If we slip away tonight and get safely away, an hour after first light, them Utes will know we ain’t here. Then they’ll be after us like hell wouldn’t have it.”

  “Then we’d better travel all night, takin’ it easy on our horses,” Snyder said. “Then when it’s light enough to see, we ride as hard and fast as we can.”

  “That’s how I see it,” said Puckett, “and we’d better keep on doin’ it until we get out of reach of these Utes, or until we meet Levi.”

  “I’m outvoted,” Blackburn said. “Anyway, I reckon I wasn’t considerin’ the chance the Utes would come after us. There’ll be a full moon for the next several nights, if the clouds will hold off. Today, let’s hide our tools as best we can. We can’t depend on our horses carryin’ anything but us and the little grub that’s left.”

  “If we all look busy, the varmints will suspect somethin’,”
said Snyder.

  “Then we can’t all look busy,” Blackburn said. “You and Puckett, stayin’ among rocks along this river, look for places to cache our tools. I’ll fire just enough so’s they can’t get within sight of you to see what you’re doin’.”

  “With only one of us shootin’, they’ll know somethin’s up,” said Puckett.

  “Maybe,” Blackburn said, “but it’s a chance we’ll have to take. It might just work in our favor, if they reckon we’re low on ammunition. That would account for only one of us shootin’ at them.”

  As soon as Puckett and Snyder made a run for the nearby river, arrows began zipping all around them. The barrage ceased when Blackburn fired rapidly into the brush from where the arrows had come. The banks of the Sevier were a jumble of stones that might have been scattered like pebbles by the hand of the Almighty. In places, it was a dozen feet down to the swiftly running water. Once Puckett and Snyder were over the edge, they could scarcely be seen, unless the observer was standing on the bank. Eventually the Utes would cross the river at some point and perhaps work their way near to the farthest bank, but by then, Puckett and Snyder should have accomplished their mission. Blackburn jacked more shells into his Winchester and prepared for the next barrage of Ute arrows.

  * * *

  “Collins,” said Faro, “there’s good water and graze here. I think it’s time we laid over a day and had a serious look at that bunch somewhere ahead of us. We don’t dare wait long enough for them to make the first move.”

  “I like the way you think, Duval,” Collins replied. “If they strike first, with their far greater number, then we’re goners.”

  “Then we’ll ride at first light,” said Faro, “and since we don’t know where they are, or how well they’re dug in, we may not be able to get close until after dark. That means we may be late returning. Dallas, while I’m gone, you’re in charge. It would be a good time for that bunch of Utes somewhere on our back trail to slip in, with mischief on their minds. If you catch more than two under the same wagon at the same time, then you have my permission to punish them in any way you see fit.”