J. Edson - Ranch War

“No. We will be in position before night falls, so that we can see for sure where they camp. Riding relay, they will both be very tired. So we let them get soundly asleep and move in silently as ghosts. The man we must kill straight away, but it won’t sorrow me if we take the girl alive.”

“You’re a mean, horny devil, Otón,” Hogue grinned. “Only, what she did to your wedding-tackle in Mulrooney, I didn’t reckon you’d want her that way.”

Cold, savage evil played across the Mexican’s face and he reached involuntarily toward the place where Calamity’s knee had landed. Hard riding had done nothing to lessen the ache he felt.

“She will pay for that!” the Mexican promised.

Grinning at his companion, Hogue urged the bay gelding to a faster pace. Ruiz made the sabino equal it and they pushed on to the north through the rolling plains between the Plane and South Loup Rivers. Once again they kept a watch to the rear, but saw nothing of their pursuers. Neither spoke much during the journey. When the appointed time came, Ruiz suggested that they should start to look for possible places which might appeal to the other two as camp-sites.

For about a mile, no location struck them as being suitable. Then Ruiz reined in his sabino and pointed ahead.

“They won’t get much farther and will most likely camp somewhere down there.”

Following the direction indicated by his companion, Hogue nodded. At that point the stage-trail dipped into a valley. Crossing a stream in the middle, the wheel-ruts of the coaches turned upstream along the opposite bank. Although the other side of the valley had a covering of woods, its bottom was fairly open. The area would have considerable appeal for travelers who could not reach the way station on the South Loup by nightfall. It had good water and grazing for the horses, shelter and some protection against the elements.

“Could be,” Hogue grudgingly conceded. “There’s plenty of places where we can keep watch on the other side.”

“If we go right on to where the valley curves,” Ruiz remarked as they rode down the slope, “we will be able to see them no matter where they camp. Their fire will guide us back.”

“If they light one,” Hogue grunted, refusing to admit, even to himself, that the Mexican made right good sense. “They didn’t last night.”

“We didn’t see it last night,” Ruiz corrected patiently.

Keeping to the stage-trail so as to avoid leaving tracks that might attract unwanted curiosity, they reached the stream. After allowing the horses to drink, they pushed on along the valley. About a quarter of a mile after leaving the ford, Ruiz nodded to a hollow in the near-side slope. Fringed with bushes, its base offered a good-sized area of free ground.

“It’d be a good place to bed down,” Hogue agreed. “Happen they come this far, I’d bet this’s where they’ll pick.”

Continuing for almost another half a mile, they left the trail instead of following it around the curve. Riding up the incline through the trees, they reached the top and dismounted. After taking care of their horses, and making certain that the animals would not be seen from the bottom of the valley, the two men moved to a position from which they could watch the trail. They could not chance lighting a fire to cook food or brew coffee, a fact that increased the burly white man’s hatred of their pursuers. Hogue consoled himself with the thought that they would be able to make use of the other two’s property later that night.

About two hours after the two men had settled down on either side of a big old cottonwood tree’s trunk, with the sun sinking in the west, they saw the girl and Texan appear on the other side. Leading their reserve horses, they rode down the stage-trail. A savage grin twisted Ruiz’s lips at the sight. Clearly the pair suspected nothing, they were acting too casual and incautious for that.

With the horses watered, they crossed the stream. Riding toward the curve, they were looking about them. On drawing level with the mouth of the opening, the girl pointed to it and spoke to her companion. Apparently they shared the two men’s opinion of the spot, for they turned their horses toward it. Once they had entered the hollow, the couple passed out of the watchers’ range of vision. However, there was no way they could leave without being seen, so Hogue and Ruiz felt no concern.

“They’ve played into our hands, amigo, ” Ruiz stated.

“We may’s well get some rest, then,” Hogue answered.

“You go. I’ll watch for a while,” Ruiz suggested.

Accepting his companion’s advice without argument, for once, Hogue backed off the rim. Ruiz watched for a short time longer. A movement among the trees caught his attention. Looking closer, he discovered it was caused by the girl as she moved about the slope above the hollow collecting firewood. Shortly after she had disappeared again, the Mexican saw the glow and smoke of a fire. Nodding his satisfaction, Ruiz withdrew and joined Hogue. They spread their blankets and settled down to rest.

At midnight, Ruiz stirred and sat up. Coming to his feet, he woke the other man. Hogue crawled from his blankets, cursing and scratching at his belly. Going to their horses, after folding their bedrolls, they saddled up. When all was ready for their departure, Ruiz stood for a moment, testing the wind.

“It’s blowing along the valley, not across,” the Mexican decided. “We can take our horses closer.”

“Don’t see why not,” Hogue agreed. The wind would not carry their mounts’ scent to the animals in the hollow. “Let’s get going.”

Leading their horses, the two men went on foot along the rim. They took their bearings from the faint glow of red below. When almost directly above its source, they came to a halt under the low-hanging branches of a white oak. Dropping their split-ended reins was all that they needed to do to prevent the animals straying. Range-trained, their mounts would not try to roam while the reins dangled loose to catch the feet. Glancing at Ruiz, Hogue drew the rifle from his saddle-boot. The big man still remembered the bullet whizzing by his head as he had entered the alley behind the Railroad House. So he did not intend to take unnecessary chances with the girl. Recalling how the Texan had reacted to Smith’s attack, Ruiz nodded his approval and drew his own Winchester.

If their approach along the rim had been made carefully, it did not come close to the caution they showed as they descended the slope. Finding a game trail, they inched through the head-high bushes until they received their first view of their victims’ camp. Still in the shelter of the bushes, they studied the scene before them.

Although dying down, the fire threw a pool of light over the center of the clearing. The couple were camped sufficiently far in the open for the men to feel pleased that they had brought their rifles and did not need to rely on handguns. A movement near the mouth of the hollow drew the two men’s gaze. They saw the girl’s and Texan’s horses picketed close to the opening. Looking at the animals, Ruiz remembered something he had heard about Cabrito. His last doubts were wiped away. According to all the stories, the Ysabel Kid did not need to fasten up his white stallion; but left it free to act as a roving sentinel while he slept. The Texan’s white horse was fastened to a sapling not far from the other mounts.

“They’ve sure got themselves made comfortable,” Hogue whispered, diverting Ruiz’s thoughts from the horses.

Turning his eyes in the direction of the fire, the Mexican felt inclined to agree with his companion. Carefully he studied the blanket-covered figures lying at the edge of the lighted area. Although the three saddles formed an n-shaped shelter which hid the sleepers’ heads from the watchers, the outlines of their bodies showed plain enough beneath the blankets. From all appearances, they were bundling belly to belly and in each other’s arms. The young man’s back was toward Hogue and Ruiz, his shoulder exposed above the coverings and arm draped across the girl. Their boots stood by the foot of the temporary bed and their hats hung on the horns of the riding saddles. Hanging across the seats of the saddles, the two gun-belts were so positioned that the watchers could see the revolvers in their holsters.