The Green River Trail Page 13
To allow their own animals a rest, the outfit saddled some of the horses taken from the dead outlaws. The rest of the horses were driven to the tag end of the herd, forming a remuda. Behind them, the drag riders would keep them bunched, as near the cattle as they could. Once the remuda was in position and the herd was moving, Mindy brought the wagon to within a few yards of the drag. The cattle had become trailwise, and the horses in the remuda followed the herd willingly. By noon, there was a rumble of thunder far to the west, and a dirty gray band of clouds strung out along the horizon. Lightning’s jagged golden fingers shot through the clouds.
“Storm come,” said Wovoka, who rode beside Lonnie.
“I reckon you’re right,” Lonnie said, “and the nearer we are to those mountains, the worse it’s likely to be.”
The dark clouds were driven eastward on a rising west wind, swallowing the sun. The day seemed at an end, with only twilight between them and total darkness. The storm was coming from the west, all the excuse the cattle needed for turning their backs to it and drifting back the way they had come. Lonnie raised his hat and lowered it three times, his signal to mill the herd. The flank and swing riders quickly got ahead of the lead steers, and got them moving in a circle. Some of the cattle, sensing the coming storm, were bawling and snorting in fear. The remuda horses picked up on the fear of the cattle and began nickering, forcing the drag riders to bunch the remuda horses and drag steers at considerable risk. The wagon had caught up to the drag, and some of the steers, breaking free of the advancing drag riders, decided to direct their firry at the oncoming mules and wagon.
“Mindy,” Dallas shouted, “turn away from them. Turn away.”
The skittish mule who had caused trouble once, chose that moment to repeat what he had done before. But Mindy proved herself equal. Seizing a whip, she popped the ragged end of it on his behind. The mule squealed and tried to run, but was held back by his three companions. Still the drag steers and some of the horse remuda galloped on, coming closer and closer to the careening wagon. But all the Colts taken from the dead outlaws had been piled under the wagon seat. Quickly, Mindy looped the reins about the pole that was the wagon’s brake handle, and seized one of the Colts. Once, twice, three times she fired, kicking up dust in the faces of the oncoming steers and horses. Dimly she thought she heard Dallas shouting at her, but it was too late to turn the wagon away from the oncoming stampede. She fired three more times, and it had some effect on the frightened horses and cattle bearing down on her. Quickly she seized another Colt from beneath the wagon seat and began firing into the ground right at the feet of the running horses and steers. Slowly, the running herd eased down to a trot, allowing the drag riders to come between them and the wagon. Slowly, the herd was again bunched together. Mindy climbed down from the wagon, so wrung out she had to cling to a wagon wheel to stand. Dallas left the other riders to bunch the herd, and in a moment was at Mindy’s side. His face was white, and his reaction anything but what Mindy had expected.
“You damn fool, why didn’t you turn the wagon aside and get out of the path of the miming herd while you had time? You could have been killed.”
“I could have,” said Mindy, “but I wasn’t.”
Dallas continued his tirade until tears rolled down Mindy’s cheeks. It was Lonnie who came to her aid. He dismounted, took Dallas’s shoulder, and whirled his comrade around so they were facing one another.
“Dallas,” Lonnie said, “one more word out of you and I’ll beat your ears down to the tops of your boots. There’s not a man in the outfit—including you and me—who could have done any better. Maybe not even as well. With a storm coming, we’re going to stop here for the night. Mindy, find you a place to sit down and rest for a while.”
Dallas said nothing. Mounting his horse, he rode back to join the rest of the riders who were bunching the herd. Becky, April, and Laura had witnessed Mindy’s heroics and immediately rode to join her.
“There are times when a man’s an unfeeling brute,” Becky said. “Give him some time to think about it, and he’ll be praising you.”
“I didn’t expect or want any praise,” said Mindy, “but I didn’t expect him to chew my tail feathers off at the roots. I thought I was doing what a man would do. Why is it that when a man does something dangerous, he’s a hero, yet when a woman does the same thing, she’s a damn fool?”
“Men don’t like to think of women as being their equals,” Laura said. “He’s not really angry with you. What’s bothering him is that you saw what needed doing, and did it as well or better than any man. Remind him of that, if he starts in on you again.”
April and Becky quickly agreed.
“If he jumps on me again,” Mindy said, “I have some choice words I learned from him. He may try to force me off the wagon.”
“He can’t do that,” said Becky. “Every man in the outfit will stand up for you. I can promise you that April, Laura, and me will.”
“Thank you,” Mindy said.
The herd had been bunched and the outfit was circling it, attempting to quiet horses and cows as the storm approached.
“Don’t worry about Dallas, Mindy,” said Lonnie. “By tonight he’ll be ready to admit he’s sorry for what he said. Now some of us had better get busy with that canvas shelter, or there’ll be no dry place for cooking and eating.”
While the rest of the outfit circled the herd, Lonnie, Dirk, Kirby, and Gus managed to erect the canvas shelter behind the wagon. They finished just minutes before the storm hit them with all its fury. Gray sheets of rain swept down on them, while the lightning and thunder came steadily closer. All the cattle and remuda horses were on their feet, stamping and milling uneasily. A cow bawled. Then another and another, until there was a bellowing frenzy among the herd. Every man in the outfit was mounted except Wovoka. Under the wagon he sat, awaiting supper.
“Get ready to ride,” Lonnie shouted. “They’re gonna ran!”
Lightning struck only a few yards away, and as though waiting for just such a signal, the horses and longhorns took the cue. As one, they struck out in a gallop, back toward the east. Lonnie and Dallas were in the lead, trying to get ahead of the stampede. Mindy, without any warning, leaped to the saddle of Becky’s horse, kicking the animal into a run. She didn’t know what had prompted her to do such a thing until she was riding alongside the lead steers. Lonnie and Dallas were directly in the path of the herd, waving their hats and firing their Colts. But the fury of the storm, with its rolling thunder, drowned out the sound of the shooting. There was no stopping the stampede, and Lonnie galloped out of its path. But Dallas continued firing. Frightened by the shooting and the oncoming herd, his horse nickered, rearing. Dallas was flung from the saddle, while the frightened horse tried to get out of the path of the stampede. Dallas stood there as though stunned. The leaders of the stampede had already galloped past Lonnie, and while he kicked his horse into a gallop, there was no way he could reach Dallas in time. Then from the other side of the charging herd—just seconds ahead of the leaders—came Mindy on Becky’s bay horse. It seemed for a moment that Dallas and his rescuer were lost, but Mindy extended her hand, Dallas took it, and swung up to the saddle behind her. The stampede was almost upon them when Mindy wheeled the tired horse, kicking him into a run toward the nearest avenue of escape. They escaped with only seconds to spare. A steer in the front rank raked the flank of the horse with a horn, and the animal screamed. Mindy reined up and dismounted, falling to her knees. In an instant, Dallas was off the horse and by her side.
“I reckon I’ll always be a damn fool,” said Mindy.
“Hush,” Dallas said. “When this stampede is over, I have some important things to say to you, and I promise it won’t be anything like the last time.”
The stampede seemed a lost cause. The riders stood holding the reins of their horses, while sheets of rain were wind-whipped into their faces. The thunder and lightning ceased, but there was no evidence that the rain intended to anytime soon.
“Then we’ll begin at first light in the morning,” said Lonnie.
Even in the rain, Becky took a tin of sulfur salve and began doctoring the bloody trail where the horn had raked the flank of her horse.
“Sorry I had to take your horse,” Mindy said, “but he was the closest one.”
“Don’t be sorry,” said Becky. “You did what had to be done, and you did it well. I’d say there’s not a man in this outfit who won’t be talking about you around campfires in all the years to come.”
The rain eventually dropped off to a drizzle, and then ceased entirely. The clouds had begun to break up, and there were patches of blue sky. The dying rays of the sun reached above the remaining gray clouds on the western horizon. Darkness was no more than an hour away.
“Too late to begin the gather today,” Lonnie said. “All of your picket your horses, and we’ll have supper.”
While the riders unsaddled their mounts, Becky, Mindy, April, and Laurel prepared the supper. The meal was a somber affair, each of them aware that gathering the herd would cost them some time they could ill afford to lose.
“Tonight, with the herd gone,” said Lonnie, “we might as well get some sleep. Don’t take off anything but your hats, and sleep with your horse’s reins in your hand.”
Most of the riders gathered a mass of dead leaves, which they placed between one of their blankets and the ground. Mindy made it a point to spread her blankets far from the place where Dallas had unrolled his. To her surprise, he gathered his blankets and brought them next to hers.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked. “I have some talking to do.”
“I hope it’s better than what you’ve said so far today,” said Mindy.
“Forget what I said,” Dallas pleaded. “What can I do? I’m a damned fool.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” said Mindy. “I just don’t want you to jump all over me.”
“You just scared me to death sometimes. I don’t want to lose you,” Dallas said.
“So your fear becomes anger, and you turn on me,” said Mindy.
“I reckon I do,” Dallas admitted. “Can you forgive me?”
“When I know that you’re sincere,” said Mindy.
“How long is that goin’ to take?” Dallas asked.
“I don’t know,” said Mindy. “When you get a mad on, direct it where it belongs, not at me. You’re old enough that you don’t need a dog to kick, but if you do, it’s not going to be me. The way I feel right now, if I had anything in Texas besides my drunken old daddy, I’d turn around and go back.”
“I don’t want you going back,” Dallas said. “I want you with me.”
“In the weeks to come, I’m going to be looking for some proof of that,” said Mindy.
Dallas said no more, knowing that nothing less than keeping his promises would satisfy Mindy. Finally he got up and walked along the river.
“You were pretty hard on him,” Becky said.
“You were listening to us, then,” said Mindy. “Why didn’t you bring April and Laura over here?”
Becky laughed. “I didn’t have to. They came on their own.”
“We wanted to see how you handled him,” Laura said.
“Yes,” said April, “we’re learning from you. Do you aim for him to sleep by himself all the way to Green River?”
“I don’t know yet,” Mindy said. “If I decide that, I’ll tell Lonnie, so he can announce it to everybody.”
Along the Pecos. July 27, 1853.
The outfit was ready to begin the gather at first light. Becky, Mindy, April, and Laura remained with the wagon. So did Wovoka.
“There’s plenty of guns under the wagon seat,” Lonnie said. “Might be a good idea if each of you belted one on until we return.”
The ten riders rode out, and Wovoka watched with some amusement as each one of the four women belted a gun rig about her waist.
“Look at him,” said April. “He’s laughing at us.”
“I think we’ll have to excuse him,” Laura said. “He’s probably not used to a woman carrying a weapon.”
“I’ve enjoyed about all of a man’s ego I can stand,” said Mindy. “If he keeps grinning at us, I’ll see that he never gets another dried apple pie.”
The riders began finding grazing horses before they saw any of the cattle.
“Let’s ride on,” Lonnie said. “Where we find the most cows and horses, that’s where we begin the gather. All those between here and there, we can gather on the way back.”
They had ridden almost five miles before they judged they had reached the end of the stampede. There, many horses and cattle grazed.
“Mighty unusual for a stampede to run this far,” said Kirby Lowe. “Generally, when the thunder and lightning’s done, they’ll slow down.”
“That’s something to think about,” Lonnie said. “We’re still in Texas. Comanches won’t care a damn for the cows, but they’d murder us all for so many horses.”
“The varmints have been known to take advantage of a stampede, keeping it going,” said Waco Talley. “We’d better keep our eyes open.”
The riders had no trouble rounding up the scattered horses and cattle. They moved the herd back in the direction the stampede had come, adding more horses and cattle as they found them. Finally they saw no more grazing stock, and driving their gather ahead of them, they started back toward the Pecos.
“Hell, it ain’t even noon,” Dirk McNelly said. “I can’t believe we got them all.”
“We’ll run some tallies when we get them back to the river,” said Lonnie.
The women were surprised to see them returning so soon. The riders separated horses from cows and then ran half a dozen tallies. Lonnie compared the results.
“Damn it,” said Lonnie, “we’re missing three hundred cows and six horses.”
“I reckon we can spare the horses, since we got nothing invested in them,” Dallas said, “but that’s a lot of cows to lose.”
“Then we’ll just have to beat the bushes,” said Gus Wilder. “Some of them fell out of the stampede and likely wandered north or south. Except for some of that rain that fell last night, I’d gamble the only water is the Pecos. They’ve had time to get thirsty, and I’d bet my saddle they’ve headed back toward the river, to north and maybe south of where we are.”
“You could be right,” said Lonnie. “Before we ride again in the direction the stampede took, I think we ought to ride upstream and downstream three or four miles. Justin, I want you, Sandy, Benjamin, Elliot, and Waco to ride south along the Pecos. Give it a good five miles. The rest of us will ride north, the same distance.”
Lonnie and his companions hadn’t ridden more than three miles when they began to see grazing cattle. There were also four of the six missing horses. They continued riding upriver until there were no more horses or cattle. They then rode south, gathering horses and cows as they went.
Meanwhile, to the south, Justin and his riders were equally fortunate. There were two of the missing horses, as well as many grazing cattle.
“I think we’ve gone far enough,” Justin said, when they could no longer see any horses or cows. “Let’s gather what we’ve found. With what the others may have found, there just might be enough.”
The outfit came together near the wagon within minutes of each other.
“Now we’ll tally these new arrivals and see where we stand,” said Lonnie. “I can see we’ve recovered all the horses.”
Quickly they tallied the new gather of cows, adding the gathers together.
“Forty-one hundred,” Lonnie said. “We’re short twenty-five.”
“Let’s take one more ride along the way that stampede rent,” said Dallas. “There may be more stampedes before we each the Green River range, and we flat can’t afford to lose to many each time.”
Lonnie sighed. “All right, we’ll ha
ve another look. Dallas, Dirk, Kirby, and Gus, you’ll ride with me. They rest of you stay here and keep this gather bunched.”
Lonnie and his companions again rode along the muddy bute of the stampede. There didn’t seem to be any more cattle, and they were about to turn back.
“Wait a minute,” Dallas said. “There’s a willow thicket own yonder at the foot of this ridge. There may be a water role there. Shade and water. What more could a cow expect?”
“Graze,” said Dirk McNelly.
“Dallas has a point,” Lonnie said. “It’ll take only a few minutes to look into that willow thicket.”
Sure enough, when the riders drew near the thicket, there were cow tracks leading in from the north.
“Some of those dropping out of the stampede to the north only made it back to here,” said Lonnie. “Let’s run them out of there.”
“Yeeeeahaaa,” Dallas shouted. Drawing his Colt, he fired wice.
It had the desired effect, driving twenty cows into the open. I was enough.
“Let’s hitch up the mules and move out,” said Lonnie when they returned. “We’ve lost some time, but we still have enough daylight left to gain a few more miles.”
“You want Wovoka and me to scout ahead?” Justin Irwin asked.
“Yes,” said Lonnie. “We’ll soon be out of Comanche country, and we have no way of knowing when we’ll encounter Paiutes.”
“Kill,” Wovoka said.
“That’s the one thing I don’t like about Wovoka,” Becky said, when Wovoka and Justin had ridden out. “He’s ready to kill before he knows for sure that we’re facing an enemy.”
“He may be justified in feeling that way,” said Lonnie. “From what Jim Bridger told us, the Paiutes are not only unfriendly to whites, but to other tribes as well. I think we’ll be fortunate if we don’t have to fight our way across northern New Mexico Territory.”
Justin and Wovoka rode what Justin estimated was twenty miles, hunting Indian sign. But there were no tracks except those of wild animals come to water. Justin nodded, and with Wovoka following, rode back to meet the oncoming herd. Reaching the point position, they rode alongside Lonnie, while Justin reported to him.