Louis L'Amour - Lonely On the Mountain

Sackett believes when trouble develops with the one, the other will kill him." Kyle Gavin's features showed nothing.

"Oh? I scarcely think--" "Gavin? Will you take Miss Molrone inside? I wish to ask that man why he has been following us. If there is anything he wants, I am sure he can have it. There's no need to go skulking about in the brush." "Following us? I wasn't aware--" "Perhaps not. I was aware." "But two men? Surely, if you know there are two, or believe there are, I cannot see why you would walk into the trap." Orrin shrugged a shoulder. "If one knows, it ceases to be a trap. And to an extent the situation is reversed. But that's the lawyer in me.

I talk too much." He turned to Devnet again. "And, Miss Molrone, do let Mr. Gavin take you inside. And please? Stay close to him, for my sake?" Gavin glanced around. "Now what's that mean?" "We want her to be safe, do we not?" Orrin's expression was bland.

"If there's a shooting here," Gavin warned, "you will be arrested. The Canadian--" "We are still in Dakota Territory," Orrin reminded him. "Now will you take Miss Molrone inside?" "He's right, miss," Mary McCann said.

"When lead starts to flyin', anybody can get shot." The tall man in the buckskin jacket leaned lazily against an awning post. The man opposite in the black coat was reading a newspaper.

Orrin Sackett did not walk toward the man in the buckskin coat, and he did not walk up the middle of the street. He started as if to do one or the other, then switched to the boardwalk that would bring him up behind the man in the black coat.

The tall man straightened suddenly, uncertain as to his move, and in that moment Orrin was behind the man with the newspaper, who had started to turn.

"Sit still now," Orrin warned, "and hang on to that paper. You drop it, and I'll kill you." The man clutched the paper with both hands. "See here, I don't know what--" "All right!" Orrin's voice rang clearly in the narrow street. "Unbuckle your gun and let it fall." He was speaking to the man across the street. "Easy now! I don't want to have to kill you." "Hey? What's this all about?" The man in the buckskin coat rested one hand on his buckle.

"What's going on?" "Nothing, if you unbuckle that belt, nice and easy, and then let it fall." The man across the street could not even see if Sackett had drawn his gun since he was standing directly behind the man with the newspaper.

The man with the newspaper said, "Better do what he says, Cougar. There's always another day." Slowly, carefully, Cougar unbuckled his belt and let the gun slip to the ground along with belt and holster.

"Now walk away four steps to your left and stop." Orrin reached down and slipped the seated man's gun from its holster, then a derringer from a vest pocket. He gave the man a quick, expert frisk.

"Fold your paper and put it in your coat pocket," he suggested, "then walk over and join your friend." As the man walked, Orrin moved across the street behind him and gathered up the gun belt and slung it over his shoulder. "Sit down, boys.

Right on the edge of the boardwalk. We might as well be comfortable." "What's going on?" Cougar demanded. "I don't even know this gent." Orrin smiled. "You seemed to know each other pretty well when I saw you out in the brush today.

I had you under my rifle several times out there, and I was tempted, gentlemen, tempted." "We was just wonderin' where you was goin'," Cougar said.

"You could have asked us," Orrin said mildly.

"No use to skulk in the brush and maybe get mistaken for a Sioux." "We was just curious"--Cougar's eyes were bright with malice--"especially since you got no reason to go west no more." Orrin's expression did not change, but within him something went cold and empty. "What's that mean?" "Them others, with the cows. They're gone. Wiped out. Herd's gone, all of them massacred by the Sioux." "That's right," the man in the black suit said.

"We rode over the ground. The Sioux stampeded buffalo into them an' then follered the buffalo.

We seen where a couple of bodies was trampled into prairie, an' gear all over everywhere.

They're dead--killed--wiped out."

Chapter X

Orrin's expression did not change. Their faces were sullenly malicious. Cougar hooked his thumbs in his belt. "You lost 'em all," he said, "your family and the cows. The Sioux wiped 'em out. You got nothin' left." He smiled. It was not easy, but he did it.

were they lying? He wanted to believe it, but he doubted they were.

"They was comin' north," Cougar said. "God knows how they got that far, but they was west of the Turtle Mountains, between there an' the Souris River, when the buffalo stampede hit 'em." "You saw the bodies?" "No, I never seen 'em. Hell, there wasn't nothing left. You ever seen a buffalo stampede? Must have been three or four thousand of them.

"We seen some bodies trampled into the torn-up ground. We seen scattered stuff, torn clothing, a busted rifle. Whatever was left the Injuns took, but it can't have been much.

And the cattle was scattered to hell and gone!" Once started, Cougar seemed minded to talk, and Orrin kept still. "There was a little creek comes along there. Don't amount to much, but this time of year there might be water enough for a herd. Anyway, they was in there on a small slope to catch what wind there was because of the skeeters.

"Them Sioux, they'd prob'ly been follerin' them for days, watching for it to be right, and they sure did make it work." "Why were you following me?" Cougar shrugged insolently. "Just seen you, wondered what you was doin', then heard your name was Sackett. Figured to tell you what happened." "All right," Orrin replied, "I'll leave your guns down at the store. But stay off my trail. If I catch you following me, you'd better make your fight because I will." Abruptly, he turned and walked back to the hotel. Gavin was waiting with Mary McCann and Devnet. "What happened?" he asked.

As briefly as possible, he explained. When he had finished, Devnet said, "Then you won't be going west? You'll stop here?" "I'll go west, ma'am, and if there's no other way, and you're mindful to travel along, I'll take you and Mrs. McCann. It will be rough, and you won't travel fast, but you can come." "No," Devnet said, "we'll go to Carlton. We will find a way. But thank you." She paused. "But why will you go now? Everything is gone, finished." "No, ma'am. Those cattle were stampeded, not killed. I'll round up what I can of them and go on west. If I can find anything left of my brothers, they'll have decent burial, and I'll read from the book over them.

"If not, they'll lie out there with their blood fed into the grass. Ma'am, neither of those boys would feel too lonely out there, for there's Indian blood in that grass. Good men died before them, and there's mighty few western trails that don't have a Sackett buried somewhere along the route. You don't build a country like this on sweat alone, ma'am." "But there are Indians! And those cattle will be scattered for miles!" "Yes, ma'am. I'll buy me some extra horses, and if I can find a man or two to help, I'll do it. We started to deliver a herd to the mines, and there's a Sackett yonder who's needful of our help. I reckon I'll go, ma'am, and if it be that I don't make it, well, there's more Sacketts where we come from." The track lay along the Dakota side of the Red, and they moved at a good pace. Accustomed through long practice, the second horse followed the first cart, driven by Baptiste, without a driver. The afternoon waned, and the lead cart moved faster.

Orrin Sackett drew up to look back along the trail. He saw nothing, no sign of pursuit, no dust. His mount seemed nervous and eager to be off, so he turned and once more began following the carts, although his horse, without any urging, rapidly overtook them.

The carts were moving at a fast trot, and Baptiste kept looking around at the sky on all sides. "How far?" Orrin called out.