The high country, p.14
The High Country, page 14
“Good idea,” Ike said. “We’ll see what we can do for Dave and then we’ll see if we can’t find a little better spot on this stream to make a camp and cook some food.” He watched as Luke turned and walked back toward the trees from which he had appeared. “I swear,” Ike declared, “it sure was a lucky thing when he came along, weren’t it?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Yarborough said, making his first comment since the stranger appeared out of nowhere to effectively cut the odds down in their favor. “It depends on what he was lookin’ for us for.”
“Here, gimme a hand, and let’s set Dave back up the bank a little ways,” Ike said. Yarborough got on one side of the wounded man and the two of them carried him to a more comfortable position. “It don’t make no difference to me what he was lookin’ for us for,” Ike continued. “If he hadn’t come when he did, one or two of us mighta been wearin’ one of them tommyhawks for a hat. Ain’t that what you say, Dave?”
Dave wasn’t concerned with what might have been. His main focus was on the throbbing pain he was presently feeling in his thigh. “Dad-gum-it,” he complained, “you’re gonna have to cut a hole in them deerskin trousers to get that damn arrow outta my leg.”
“Unless you can figure a way to take your trousers off over that little arrow hole,” Ike remarked. “And I’d like to see you do that, if you think you can, with that arrow stickin’ up out of it.” He apologized then. “I know it must hurt like hell. Lay back on the grass there and let me see what it’s gonna take to release that arrowhead.” Dave laid back, resting his head on one arm folded behind his neck while Ike carefully enlarged the hole in his trousers with his skinning knife.
This was the position Luke found them in when he reappeared, leading his horses and six Indian ponies. “They didn’t have any packhorses,” he said, “just the horses they were riding.” He released the horses to go to water, then walked over to see how Dave was doing. He stood and watched while Ike probed cautiously at the wound the arrowhead had made in Dave’s leg. He soon wondered if this was the first time either of them had experienced such a wound. “Are you havin’ trouble gettin’ it out?”
“I’ll say I am,” Ike replied. “That arrowhead’s gone into the muscle pretty deep and I can move it a little bit, but not enough to free it up.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Luke asked. “I’ve seen one or two of these before.” Ike immediately backed away, obviously grateful for any help, especially since Yarborough seemed to show no interest in Dave’s wound. “All right with you?” Luke asked Dave then, and Dave nodded, his concern increasing with his pain. Luke took the knife Ike had been probing with and got down on his knees to look into the wound. It occurred to him that it was too bad Willow wasn’t with him. She would have been so much more gentle. With his fingers, he reached into the flesh where the arrowhead had sliced its way into Dave’s leg. He moved it slightly to the right, then back to the left. Dave tried to stifle a cry of pain. “Have you got any whiskey?” Luke asked Ike.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact,” Ike answered. “I reckon I shoulda poured some on my knife before I cut into the wound. I’ll get it and we’ll pour some on now.”
“Just bring the bottle,” Luke told him. “Ain’t no use in pourin’ any on the knife now.” He waited while Ike got a bottle from one of his packs and handed it to Luke. Luke uncorked it and offered Dave a drink. Dave didn’t hesitate and knocked a big gulp down. Luke took the bottle from him while he was still flinching from the fire in his throat. He then grabbed the arrow shaft and ripped it straight up out of Dave’s leg with one hand while he poured a generous quantity of the fiery liquid into the hole left by the arrowhead with the other hand. With his eyes and his mouth wide open, Dave didn’t make a sound at once, his lungs incapable of supplying the breath he needed to roar out his pain. When it came, he released the howl of a timber wolf and made a move as if to come after Luke. Luke simply handed him the arrow and said, “Here’s your arrow. It don’t hurt no more, does it?”
Dave paused to think about it. “No, it don’t hurt like it did before.”
“It woulda been a lot harder if it had been a rifle ball. You got any clean rags of some kind?” Luke asked. “Anything you can use for a bandage?” Dave nodded. “Stuff some of them in that hole and tie a bandage around your leg, and it oughta be all right in a few days. It’ll help it if it bleeds a little bit. If you wanna cauterize it to be sure, right now’s the best time to do it. You can heat that knife blade up in the fire and stick it on the wound, but that’s up to you. I expect it’ll heal all right without cookin’ it.”
“I think you’re right,” Dave quickly agreed. “I think that whiskey got all the poison out.”
“I swear, Yarborough,” Ike declared then, “you just gonna set around and gawk? You coulda been buildin’ a fire while me and Luke was doctorin’ Dave.” He turned to address Luke then. “You ain’t never said why you came lookin’ for us. Did you come out here from the fort?” He failed to notice the sudden tightness in Luke’s expression when he had called Yarborough by name. “Startin’ out, it was just me and Dave that was supposed to go to the Bitterroot Valley to see why we ain’t trappin’ more beaver over there,” Ike continued. “Then Yarborough decides he wants to go with us, and now they’ve sent you to help out. Is there some kinda trouble over in that valley we oughta know about?”
Luke paused for a couple of seconds to think about how he was going to answer Ike. He had no quarrel with Ike or Dave, but he might not be given a choice to seek his vengeance against one of them without having to fight the other two. When all three looked at him with questioning faces, waiting for an explanation, he decided to lay the facts on the line and devil take the loser. “Nobody sent me to find you three men. I came here looking for Reese Yarborough to settle something between him and me. I have no quarrel with you, Mr. Jessup, or with you, Mr. Hightower. My business is strictly with Yarborough.” He turned to face Yarborough, his hand resting on the handle of his pistol.
Yarborough almost stumbled into the fire that was just beginning to show life. “Whoa!” he blurted out. “You’re makin’ one helluva big mistake. I never laid eyes on you before you showed up here today! I don’t know who you think I am, but I ain’t never crossed your path, and that’s God’s honest truth.”
“I’ll help you remember, since your memory ain’t so good,” Luke said. “You came into my camp when I was gone. You had three men with you and you killed my partner, Jug Sartain, and you shot my wife and left her for dead. Jug killed one of the men with you before he was shot down. I got back in time to kill the other two while you were hiding in the cave above my camp. I’m sorry to say I let you get away when you stampeded the horses out of the cave. But I saw you hanging on the side of one of them. So now, it’s time for you and me to settle up for you shootin’ my wife and my partner.”
Both Dave and Ike immediately looked at Yarborough, shocked by the simple, unemotional accusation levied against him. His expression was one of outright panic as he gawked at the deadly calm in Luke’s face. He dropped a piece of a limb he had been holding and it fell in the fire, causing sparks to fly up around his accuser’s face. “Just hold on a minute,” Yarborough exclaimed. “Somebody’s told you a story that ain’t true. I ain’t been to your camp. These boys will tell you I work at the store. I don’t go out to the trapper camps.” He looked at Ike. “Tell him, Ike.” Ike didn’t say anything. Like Dave, he just continued to stare. He knew Yarborough wanted him to say he worked at the store, but he hesitated to lie for him.
“My wife told me that Jug called the man who shot her and killed him Yarborough,” Luke said, his demeanor still as unexcited and purposeful as a hangman’s. “The sooner we get this thing settled, the sooner I’ll leave you two gentlemen to make your camp and get on about your business.” Looking directly at Yarborough again, he said. “Make no mistake, I came to kill you for what you did, but I’m willin’ to be fair about it. If you want to try your luck in a face-off between us, we’ll stand and let Mr. Hightower or Mr. Jessup call the signal to fire.” He waited for Yarborough to respond, thinking that he would more than likely reach for the pistol stuck in his belt, if it was loaded. But Yarborough didn’t make a move, so either the pistol was not ready to fire or he was afraid he was not fast enough to kill Luke. “What’s it gonna be, Yarborough?” Luke pressed. “A simple execution? Or do you think you’re not guilty?”
“Man, you’re insane,” Yarborough finally sputtered. “There’s three of us Hudson’s Bay men against one free trapper. You’re about to commit suicide. The best thing for you to do is get on that horse and ride away from here while you still can.”
Dave Hightower spoke up then. “Best not count on me, Yarborough. I ain’t sure about this at all. I was thinkin’ about what he said and I think I remember a little feller named Jug Sartain who used to trap for HBC.”
“What kinda talk is that?” Yarborough responded. “We’re Hudson’s Bay men. We always stick together when the goin’ gets rough. Ain’t that right, Ike?”
“That’s a fact, Yarborough,” Ike answered, “but only when we’re on the right side of things. And I’m thinkin’ kinda like Dave right now. I ain’t so sure you’re tellin’ the truth about this business. This feller came a long way to find you. He sure thinks he’s got the right of things. And I ain’t forgot the fact that he coulda waited to see if all three of us was gonna get wiped out by those six Injuns and save him the trouble. It seems to me this business is just between him and you. Me and Dave ain’t got no part in it.”
“Well, to hell with you two,” Yarborough shouted, blustering. “I shoulda known you wasn’t real company men.” Trying to hide the fear in his eyes, he said to Luke, “I’ll stand up to you, man to man, and we’ll see who’s tellin’ the truth here. But I’m callin’ you out to a duel, like two civilized men oughta do when there’s a problem between ’em. No hidden weapons or tricks. It’s gonna be a fair fight, each man with one pistol, standin’ back to back, then walking till Ike or Dave counts ten steps. When he says ten, we turn and fire, the honest man will still be standin’ and the liar will be on the way to Hell.”
“That sounds pretty highfalutin for a couple of fur trappers,” Luke said. “Let’s just get to it.”
“Damn you,” Yarborough swore. “You come trailin’ after us like a coyote smellin’ blood. It’s time you learned how to act like a civilized man. I’ll wait for you at dawn, when official duels are always held. Right here by this stream, your pistol loaded and your heart right with God.”
“Tomorrow mornin’?” Luke replied. “You think I’m that dumb? How many miles away from here you figure you might be by tomorrow mornin’?” He pulled his pistol out of his belt and said, “I’m gonna do what I came to do right now!” He pointed the flintlock at Yarborough, who cringed in fear, convinced his time had come.
“Hold on, Luke,” Ike exclaimed. “Maybe he meant what he said about a duel at dawn. You was bein’ more’n fair about callin’ him out, givin’ him a fair chance. I hate to see you just shoot him down now. You seem like a better man than that. Let him have his duel, if it’ll make him feel like a better man.”
“I’m tired of chasin’ him,” Luke replied. “He has to pay for what he did. And if I let him live till mornin’, there ain’t no tellin’ how far away from here he’ll be.”
“If he is gone, come sunup, he’ll be walkin’,” Ike said. “I’ll sleep with the horses tonight. I’ll hear him if he tries to take off durin’ the night.” He turned to face Yarborough then. “You hear that, Yarborough? You mean what you say about that duel?”
“I do,” he replied. “When the sun comes up in the mornin’, I’ll be here and I’ll be ready for whatever happens.”
Ike looked back at Luke then. “Whaddaya say, Luke? Can it wait till mornin’?”
“It’s the craziest thing I ever heard of,” Luke replied, “but I reckon I’ll go along with it. You’ll understand if I make my camp upstream a little, just in case you fellows change your mind about good ol’ Yarborough.”
“You sure you’ll be here in the mornin’ when the sun comes up?” Yarborough asked. “Maybe Dave oughta sleep with your horses to make sure you don’t change your mind and ride off. This ain’t gonna be my first duel. I’ve had a couple.”
“I’ll be here,” Luke answered.
Chapter 12
Leaving the bodies of the six Indians to nourish the buzzard population of the Bitterroots, the Hudson’s Bay men moved their camp a little farther upstream. Luke said he would return at sunup in the morning and rode his horses another seventy-five yards upstream to make his camp. He built a fire and made some coffee to drink with his smoked elk, and while he ate it, he thought about the unusual affair just completed with the three men of Hudson’s Bay. He was more than halfway convinced that Ike and Dave had been honest in their reaction to Yarborough’s guarantee that he would be there in the morning. He could not be sure of their reaction had he simply rode in and shot Yarborough down, then explained the reason afterward. One thing he was sure of, however, was that Yarborough had no intention of showing up at dawn, pistol in hand, ready to duel. He was convinced that Yarborough’s whole performance had been in hopes of luring him to sleep with the intention of visiting him in the middle of the night. Yarborough’s tendency was to run. He had demonstrated that when he stampeded the horses out of the cave, running for his life. Then he showed the yellow streak again when he volunteered to accompany Ike and Dave to the Bitterroot Valley. But Yarborough would not try to make a run for it in the night tonight, since he knew he would be too easy to trail. So Luke decided he would forget about sleeping this night, because there was still work to be done.
When darkness closed in over the little ravine where the stream ran, Luke gathered some extra firewood to keep his fire going. Then he picked a spot up against a double tree trunk to roll up his bedroll with his saddle as a pillow, took his boot-length moccasins off, and set them close to the fire. He wrapped his feet with two deerskin strips against the chill of the evening. Then he loaded his rifle and both his pistols and took the last cup of coffee from the pot and settled himself for the night behind a clump of service berry bushes.
* * *
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might actually have dozed off for a short while, because he snapped to attention when he thought he heard something. So he held his breath and listened. It occurred to him then that what had caught his attention was that he had suddenly heard nothing. The sounds of the night insects and creatures that lived in the stream had abruptly gone silent as if in response to an intruder. He looked up at a full moon rising over the top of the mountains and realized that it had been a while since he finished the cup of coffee he had brought with him behind the berry bushes. Totally alert now, he listened extra hard when he caught the sound a small twig makes when it’s stepped on. On the other side of the fire, he estimated. That would put his visitor about twenty yards from him. So he very carefully picked up his Pennsylvania long rifle and checked to see that it was ready to fire.
He watched cautiously until the dark shape coming from the trees beside the stream began to take the shape of a man. He waited until Yarborough raised the Northwest trade rifle, took deliberate aim, and fired at what he supposed was the sleeping body by the fire. No doubt it had been loaded with a rifle ball plus a measure of buckshot, Luke thought. And it put a nice size hole in my blanket.
“There’s your damn duel, big shot!” Yarborough said. “At least that little runt you call a partner was standin’ up when I shot him.” He was unaware of the man stepping out of the berry bushes.
“Is it dawn already?” Luke asked. “I musta overslept. I reckon it’s my shot now.” Terrified, Yarborough’s knees failed him, and he sank down on them. In a panic, he fumbled in a frantic effort to draw his pistol out of his belt while Luke unhurriedly took dead aim. “Jug Sartain says hello,” he said as he pulled the trigger, sending a rifle ball into Yarborough’s chest, knocking him over on his side. Luke waited then, knowing Ike and Dave would most likely be there in a short time to investigate.
They arrived in seconds, Ike in the lead with Dave limping in an effort to keep up. Both anxious to see whether Luke or Yarborough was still standing. When he saw Luke, Ike asked, “You all right? We heard two shots!”
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Luke answered. “Yarborough killed my blanket, so I had to shoot him for that.”
“We both slept near the horses,” Dave said. “We figured he might take off in the middle of the night. But I swear, we didn’t think he’d take a chance on sneakin’ around your fire before he left.” He glanced at Ike, then said, “I expect Ike will back me up when I tell you that you ain’t killed nobody who’s gonna be missed by many men trappin’ for Hudson’s Bay.”
“That’s a fact,” Ike remarked. “He was pretty much a pain in the behind.” He shrugged, then said, “So I reckon you’re done with what you came to do. What are you gonna do now?”
“I expect I’d best get back to my camp,” Luke said. “I promised my wife I wouldn’t be away any longer than it took to set things right.”
“You can hang around another day or two and go up the Bitterroot Valley with Ike and me,” Dave said. “We’ve gotta find a camp of six trappers workin’ the south end of the valley.”
Luke chuckled. “I don’t know how welcome I’d be, since I’m a free trapper, and I used to trap for American Fur Company before that. So I reckon I’ll see if I can get a couple hours’ sleep outta the rest of this night, then I’ll head on back over the pass. Like I told you, I left my wife with a couple of friends to heal up from a wound in the chest. I expect I’d best get back to her as quick as I can.”
“Well, thanks again for your help with them Injuns,” Ike said. “Me and Dave will take care of ol’ Yarborough there. He can wait till mornin’.”
