Driftin' (Shad Cain Book 3) Page 11

  Them boys must have realized they were fighting on two fronts and bunched up at the other end of their run. We reckoned they had to talk it over, so Dave and me just opened fire on the bunch of ‘em. Horses were bucking and running and being most fractious. By that time those inside the house had got their heads up and started pouring lead into the bunch… The party seemed to be over.

  “Helloo… in the house.” I yelled out, “Cain and Dave Collins coming in.”

  They told us to come on in, and we did. They lit some lamps in the house, and Dave nearly busted down the door trying to get in. All he wanted was to know if Charlie had made it in.

  Charlie was in the bedroom on the bed with a bullet through his shoulder blade. They had plugged him up and got the bleeding under control, but the bullet was still in there. Bell had cleaned the wound and poured whiskey in it, but that chunk of lead needed to come out. It was day and a half or more to the nearest doc in Bakersfield.

  “I’ve done all I know how to do, Shad.” Bell told me. “He rode the whole way with that bullet in him… You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

  I’m sure I made a face of some sort ‘cause I sure didn’t want to go digging around in a man’s body. I’d done it a number of times getting arrow heads, musket balls, and bullets out, but that didn’t mean I knew what I was doing… and they hadn’t all been successes.

  I was pretty sure from where the bullet had entered, that it wasn’t lodged close to the heart. But if that shoulder blade had turned it, then it could be anywhere. Dave was standing beside me looking at me. He was a scared young man… Scared for his brother.

  “I’m willin’ if there’s no other way, but it’s your decision, Dave…. If you got any doubts, I’ll back away now…. But once I get started, there’s no backin’ up.”

  He looked at his brother, and then he looked at me again and said, “I trust you Cain… It’s the only chance he’s got, ain’t it?”

  “I believe so, but I’m no doc. I’m just a mountain man who’s been lucky a time or two. I can’t give you no guarantees but unless that bullet comes out, he’s likely to bleed on the inside… that’s a jagged piece of metal in there and if it starts movin’ it’ll cut his insides to pieces.”

  “Do it, Cain, but I can’t watch.”

  I ordered some hot water and whiskey and as many lamps as they could muster. Then I asked for a good thin bladed knife and a stone for sharpening. I had them gently turn him over on his right side, so I could get an angle on where it might be. The best I could tell was it might be lodged in the large chest muscles on the left side, if it got through the ribs without getting lodged among ‘em.

  The thought of him riding hell bent for sundown with that chunk of lead in him, didn’t fill me with a lot of confidence. But we just might get lucky.

  Chapter 16

  I took a pull of the whiskey, and then washed my hands with it. The knife was sharp, and his bare chest was right beneath me. The first cut is always the hardest to make because at that point all you have is a pretty good guess of what’s below the skin…. It had better be a damned good guess.

  We had cleared the kitchen and had Charlie on the table. His arms were tied down, and I had Adams holding his feet, while Bell held him down at the shoulders. The clean, sharp, and fire bathed knife hovered over the spot I had chosen as the most likely place to start. Looking at the blade, I couldn’t see any tell tale signs of shaking… That let me know I was as comfortable with my location as I was ever going to be.

  For the next ten to twenty minutes I was moving aside muscle and probing with my finger trying to find the bullet. I finally located it and spent the next five or so minutes trying to ease it out using my finger and the knife as a tong. The last thing I wanted to do was cut into one of those big veins, so I was moving as carefully as possible. The bullet and my finger were slick with blood and it was hard to get a grip. But it was moving little by little. I almost had it a number of times, but it would either slide off the knife or my finger. I just couldn’t put enough pressure on it to get it.

  Frustrations were building and I was sweating. I finally decided to use two fingers instead of a finger and a knife blade. To do that, I was going to have to spread the muscles farther apart or cut some of it meat away… I didn’t know what that would do. I knew that things like that often grew back, but I didn’t know if he’d ever be able to use that arm again.

  So I went for spreading the layers of muscle as far as I could. Clasping both hands together and lacing the fingers tightly with the two trigger fingers extended; I pushed them into the muscle. It was awkward and clumsy, but they went into the meat. Within a few seconds I had located the bullet again, and was able to apply enough pressure to pull the piece of lead free. It slipped from my fingers, bounced off his belly, and landed on the floor. And I exhaled.

  Before I could reach down and pick it up, Bell was pouring whiskey onto the wound, and then he handed me the bottle. I took a long swig and sat down. Max bathed the wound some more and started stitching up my handy work. We’d done all we could for him, and all we could do from then on was hope it was enough.

  What I’d just done was nothing new to me, but that don’t mean I liked it. Sometimes I was digging arrowheads out of white men, and other times I was digging bullets out of red men. I wouldn’t just let a good man die if there was something I could do to help. Most folks were good by nature; even those we considered bloody savages. In their own world, they were mostly good men, living the way they’d lived for thousands of years. It just happened to conflict with the white man’s way of living, and there seemed to be an unending number of us moving in…. mores the pity.

  Watching Max Bell sew the young rancher up, made me wonder if he ever considered making a living as a tailor. He did some fine work. I decided not to bring that up to him at that moment, but the next time I needed a fancy suit, I’d just send him my measurements.

  I took a cup of coffee and a plate of beef and beans, and I walked outside into the cool evening air. The first person I saw was Dave Collins. His face asked all the questions his mouth was too afraid to ask.

  “We won’t know for a while yet, Dave. But your brother’s a tough young hombre, and that’s pretty much in his favor. I got the lead without doin’ too much cuttin’. He lost a lot of blood, so he’ll be weak for a while… The biggest danger now is fever. But Bell cleaned the wound good, he’s got your brother all stitched up nice and neat… We’ll just have to wait and see what happens… If you’re a prayin’ man, it sure wouldn’t hurt.”

  “If he comes out of this with nothing to show for it but a nice clean scar, then you give him this for his totem.” I handed him the smashed and bloodied bullet. I finished my meal and went to take care of my horse and find a place to spread my bedroll.

  ~~~~~ o ~~~~~

  The next morning we got busy cutting back some of those trees and clearing brush in the patch of woods Dave Collins and me used the night before. That gave us a better field of fire. We used the logs as breastwork around the house. That way the men wouldn’t be trapped inside the house, when they were under attack. A few men in the woods could create a crossfire to make life uncomfortable and short for the raiders.

  Charlie Collins was the same. He’d had a slight fever, but the dressings were kept clean and bleeding wasn’t a problem. He’d wake from time to time, and when he did Dave was right there pouring broth into him. It looked like he was going to come through it only a little worse for wear.

  Bell sent a rider to the Murchison ranch to see if they’d been hit also. They hadn’t but were on full alert expecting to be hit next. Both the Adams and the Murchison ranches were closer to the river than to the mountains. There was a possibility the raiders could slip past us, if they stayed close to the mountains. So the plan was to send two men out on watch in each position. That way if one man goes down, the other would hear it and make a bee line for the Adams ranch. He’d give his warning and keep on going to the Murchison ranch to wa
rn them.

  We were aware that time was running out for Glazer and his plans. He was smart enough to know that he’d be hard pressed fighting a war with two fronts. He’d have one with the ranchers and one with the loggers. He’d have no claim to stop the loggers from crossing land he didn’t control. So it was now or never, and we knew it.

  The men spent most of the day getting ready. They were cleaning weapons, shoring up anything that looked like it could be made better, and checking their weapons again. They made a long row of dried brush about forty feet out from their breastwork, and made a stockpile of torches that could be thrown into the brush. Burning brush gives off plenty of light for targets.

  When it came time to go out and relieve the day guards, I took Charlie Collins’ post and rode out with my back up man, Buck Murphy. He was one of the Bellem riders. And I had a notion that Max wouldn’t hire just any old puncher, he’d have to be a good one to ride for Bell. So I had no worries about him doing his part.

  It was coming on to dusk by the time we reached the watch post area. Tucker, one of the Dumas riders had been watching since early morning and was happy to be relieved. We moved up a little farther to the other side of the south fork. I wanted to see them coming as far up as I could. If I thought I could pull it off, I’d have been watching just outside their ranch yard.

  This little extra distance would at least give Buck a chance to get back to the ranch in time to give them fair warning. I told Bell I had a feeling they were going to be coming at us tonight with everything they had. I wasn’t sure I was going to get back to the ranch this night… or any other night. I almost left Dog tied up but I didn’t. I did, however, leave my buckskin in the corral and took one of the spares. He would make too fine a target. I just felt strange as the sun went down.

  “Buck,” I said, “I got a feeling this is going to be one of those all are nothin’ nights. I believe there will be blood on saddles come morning and some cryin’ widows also. That’s why I’m askin’ you to stay back on the other side of the fork… When you hear shootin’, I want you to slap the spurs to that bronc and ride like hell… Don’t try to even take a shot.

  “I’m gonna try to slow ‘em down a might. And if I’m lucky, I’ll try to get some of them to chase me and split their forces. There’s a few of them who already got enough hatred for me to want my hide stretched on a shed… You just ride like the devil hisself was after you, man.”

  He wasn’t comfortable with leaving me to hold them off by myself. Buck was a tough youngster, but I had to make him see that it was the only way to make sure the ranchers get an advance warning.

  “You tell Max Bell… if I don’t make it back, he can have my stuff.” I laughed at the idea of my stuff. It was a treasure of a dress up suit, a damned good horse, and an even better dog. The rest of the stuff among my property wasn’t worth forty two cents.

  There would be a good bit of moon, and if I could get some of those fellas to recognize me, they’d be so mad they’d just naturally take off after me. I moved on up a might farther beyond the south fork. There was a trail leading up into the mountains where the fork comes down. If I could get up there alive, I could lead them on a merry chase and split the force.

  I reckoned they had about twenty five men left, of the thirty they had a week ago. If I could get five to follow me up into the hills, it would shorten the number the ranchers had to deal with… It might be enough to make a difference.

  While I waited, I let the borrowed mustang crop some grass rather than wear him out just sitting on him. When this fracas started, we’d have to make a short run straight uphill with that bunch throwing lead at us all the way. And when we got to the top, we’d be making a mad dash for cover and invisibility.

  Midnight had come and gone before there was anything to hear except for the night birds and the yipping of coyotes. Then I heard them coming. They were still a good several hundred yards away. I stood holding my bronc’s head to make sure he didn’t give them any advance notice. He seemed to understand what I was trying to tell him. And when they were close enough, to hear what sounded a soft rumbling noise, I mounted and moved into the shadows.

  The moon was high and I could see them coming. There was no talking among them that I could hear. It looked like at least as many as I’d expected. By that time, I could hear the individual hooves striking the hard earth. I made ready and took a deep breath.

  Chapter 17

  By rights, I guess I should have stepped out and told them to throw down their guns, but I didn’t reckon on doing that. So I just hauled off and let her go. I was hoping to get a couple down in the first few seconds, and I did. Dog joined in by raising so much hell in among the horses that the whole brigade was all helter skelter, so I kept on shooting. There were some shots coming back my way, so I whistled, and Dog broke off the fight.

  We disappeared into the shadows of the overhanging trees. When we’d splashed through the south fork, I turned and gave them a few more shots just to keep up their interest. They let me know they were still interested with a half dozen shots coming my way. That was enough to let me know my plan was working.

  When they returned fire, I rode up the fork about ten feet and took a few more shots at them. I didn’t figure those boys were all that bright, so I had to let them know, I’d changed direction. Slapping the spurs to that mustang, we took off up the trail beside the tumbling stream. It wasn’t a real water fall, but more like a series of small waterfalls.

  The first climb took us about two hundred feet above the valley, and then through a cut and we were climbing even higher. That bronc was laboring by the time we got to the next level. I got down and gave him a rest. While he was catching his breath, I was reloading and taking everything off my saddle. Next I changed into moccasins. I made sure to tie my boots good and tight to the saddle and gave that horse a whack.

  That critter took off back down the trail, where I expected him to meet up with that bunch coming this way. It should be quite an encounter. I’m kinda sorry I didn’t get to see it, but I’d been to a circus once, and that was enough for me. Waiting until I heard the commotion down below, then me and Dog faded away into the dark forest. I figured they’d be good and mad when they reached the top, and that’s the way I wanted them. A man filled with hate and rage, is a man who don’t always use the best judgment.

  From a ways back in the shadows, I watched them come over the top. I counted nine. That was more than I’d hoped for. That meant there wouldn’t be more than sixteen or so hitting the ranchers…if that many. I was counting on Buck to do what he was supposed to, if he did they’d be more than ready for that many.

  They moved on up to a clearing and had a pow wow. They knew I was afoot, and they knew they couldn’t track me in the dark. So they jabbered back and forth for a spell, and then they decided to make camp. I guessed they would come out to get me in the morning. And that was just fine, but I didn’t want them to get too comfortable. So when they had their fire going good and coffee on to boil, I sat back and waited till it ought to be ready I blew that coffee pot to hell. That had ‘em ducking for cover.

  Those boys sure knew a passel of naughty words, and they put a lot of excitement into ‘em. With Dog at my side we moved along through the brush and trees. I’d go down into a ravine and up over a ridge, and I left them plenty of sign. In a couple hours of travel, I’d made a big wide circle and was sitting in a cold camp on a ridge overlooking their camp. I figured a couple hours sleep wouldn’t harm me, so I lay down and slept.

  When I woke, I calculated it was just a little before sunup. The eastern sky over the mountains was turning a little pink and the sky overhead was getting gray. Only one low star was hanging in the sky. I lay in the wet grass and watched the camp start to stir. It was hard to tell who was in charge. None of them came across as boss; each man was pulling in his own direction.

  Finally, one husky hombre took charge. From where I was laying, I couldn’t tell much about any of them. But the big one k
nocked another one of them down and that ended the argument, until fella on the ground pulled his Colt and shot the big fella in the back. I reckon he won the argument after all.

  While all that was going on, one practical fella was building up the fire. He was making coffee in a pan and had cut up some bacon in a skillet. So with a leader elected they took the time to have some breakfast. I waited till they’d eaten and had their fill of coffee. I watched them that had saddles, put them on and mount up. Those using blankets just took a hand full of main and pulled up. They were leaving their bedrolls and some other truck, along with a man to stay and watch over it all.

  Leaving a man would mess with my plan, but wouldn’t necessarily ruin it. All I really wanted to do was get down there and wreck their camp enough to make ‘em madder. The rest of them rode off in the direction of where I’d been when I shot their coffee pot. It would take them at least a couple of hours to get back, so I had time for breakfast.

  I rolled my bedding and hung it across my back with a strip of rawhide. My saddle bags were rolled up in the bedroll, and my pouch was tied to my belt with about a hundred .44 rounds in it. Dog and me just strolled on down the slope and came up to the camp from the back side. I planned to be right friendly to the fella tending camp… if he’d let me.

  I had my rifle in my right hand not really pointing at anything, when I moved out into the open. I didn’t know the boy tending camp, so chances were he didn’t know me either… Like I said, I was hoping for him to be the friendly kind.

  “Mornin’.” I said. “Smelled your coffee and bacon all the way up on the ridge. Didn’t know there was anybody within ten mile of here. That is till I heard the shot.” He must have dragged the big fellas body off somewhere because it was gone.

  “Where the hell you come from?” He said. “You near scared the bejavers out of me.” His hand was dangerously close to his gun, but he relaxed when he saw my Winchester wasn’t in a position to be a threat.