Rampage of the Mountain Man

Chapter Twelve

The first pink fingers of dawn touched the sagebrush, and the light was soft and the air was cool. This was Smoke’s favorite time of day and as he stood by the fire, drinking coffee, he watched his cowboys moving the herd together for the start of the drive.

Behind him he heard the sound of pots and pans being moved around, and he smelled the aroma of frying bacon and baking biscuits. He also caught a whiff of the sweet smell of Sally’s patented bear claws. Turning, he saw Sally working at the chuck wagon.

Damn, he thought, he was one lucky man to have found someone like Sally. Sally was Smoke’s second wife. After his first wife, Nicole, and their baby were killed, Smoke went on the blood trail, tracking down and killing the men who had so destroyed his life.

After that, Smoke didn’t think he would ever be able to love again. But he met a beautiful and spirited young schoolteacher who changed his mind. This was not to say that he had forgotten Nicole; she would always have a place in his heart and Sally understood that. In fact, Sally was so confident in her own position that, though she had never met Nicole, she thought of Smoke’s dead wife as a sister to her.

Smoke was so deep in concentration that, for a moment, he didn’t realize Sally was staring at him with a bemused expression on her face.

“Good morning,” Smoke said.

Sally chuckled. “Good morning,” she replied. “If you want to call the boys in, breakfast is about ready.”

Sally had gotten up even before sunrise to cook a full breakfast meal for eleven people. After breakfast, she would pack up the chuck wagon and leave, going out ahead of the herd. The men would lunch in the saddle with strips of jerky and cold biscuits. They wouldn’t see Sally again until supper.

It was not only Sally’s job to get into position in time to fix supper, it was also her job to find a place where the herd could bed down for the night. This was a very responsible job, but Smoke had absolutely no qualms about her ability to perform the tasks assigned.

Smoke walked over to the chuck wagon to see the breakfast she had prepared. She had scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, sausage, stewed apples, and biscuits and gravy.

Smoke whistled in amazement as he eyed the spread.

“Good Lord, Sally, I hope you don’t feed them this big a breakfast every morning,” he said. “My Lord, they’ll get so fat they can’t even ride.”

Sally laughed.

“This is the first day,” she said. “It’s just my way of getting things started on the right foot.”

“Yeah, well, I hope you don’t spoil them into thinking that they are going to eat like this for every meal. I mean, you aren’t going to feed them like this, are you?”

“Maybe not quite this well,” Sally replied. “But don’t forget, a well-fed cowboy is a happy cowboy.”

“You didn’t pack your china and silver, did you?” Smoke asked sarcastically.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Sally teased. “Maybe I will do that.”

“Right,” Smoke replied sarcastically.

Sally laughed. “Call the boys in, Smoke,” she said. “I need to get going if I’m going to get ahead of the drive.”

The drive had been out for four days and nights so far, and there had been no real problems except fatigue. Smoke was pleased with the job Pearlie and Cal had done in picking hands for the drive. Billy Cantrell and the Butrum brothers had proven to be great hands. Mike Kennedy had as well. Only the two former soldiers, Andy and Dooley, were inexperienced, but not even that was causing much of a problem. They were good workers and eager to learn from the more experienced of the outfit.

It was early in the morning of the fifth day, and the last morning star made a bright pinpoint of light over the purple mountains that lay in a ragged line far to the north and west. The coals from the campfire of the night before were still glowing, and Smoke watched as Pearlie threw chunks of wood onto them, then stirred the fire into crackling flames, which danced merrily against the bottom of the suspended coffeepot.

A rustle of wind through feathers caused Smoke to look up just in time to see a golden eagle diving on its prey. The eagle swooped back into the air carrying a tiny field mouse, which kicked fearfully in the eagle’s claws. A rabbit bounded quickly into its hole, frightened by the sudden appearance of the eagle.

“Want some coffee, Smoke?” Pearlie called.

“Yes, thanks,” Smoke answered.

Pearlie used his hat as a heat pad against the blue-iron handle and poured a cup, then brought it over to Smoke.

“Who’s watching the herd?” Smoke asked.

“Billy and Mike ate their breakfast early and have gone out to relieve Cal and Andy.”

“Cal and Andy were riding nighthawk?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, I didn’t think Cal would have the nerve to be alone with Andy after that joke he pulled on him,” Smoke said.

Smoke’s comment referred to an incident on their first day out. Cal had told Andy that the feces from some cows were edible, and to prove his point, he went over to pick up a handful of cow manure and eat it.

While all the other cowboys laughed, Andy fought hard to keep from gagging. Then, feeling sorry for him, Pearlie explained that what Cal had eaten was actually a piece of Sally’s gingerbread.

“Well, sir, Andy took it pretty good and I think Cal is sort of ashamed of himself for the joke, so they’ve been gettin’ along just real good since then,” Pearlie said.

“Speak of the devils, here they come,” Smoke said, nodding toward two riders who were coming into the camp then.

Both men dismounted, then went over and poured themselves cups of coffee. Andy walked over to a log and sat down with some of the others to wait for breakfast, while Cal came up to Smoke and Pearlie. Cal’s coffee was black and steaming and he had to blow on it before he could suck it through his lips.

“Cows quiet through the night?” Smoke asked.

“Bedded down like they had blankets and pillows,” Cal responded.

“That’s good.”

“You know what I’m beginnin’ to think?” Cal asked. “I’m beginnin’ to think we might just pull this off. I mean, look, we’ve been out for four full days now, and there ain’t been no trouble of any kind.”

Pearlie chuckled. “We’ve only been out for four days. Hell, we’re barely off Sugarloaf, and you’re already talkin’ about how easy it’s goin’ to be.”

“No,” Cal responded quickly. “I’m not sayin’ it’s goin’ to be easy. I’m just sayin’ I believe we can do it.”

Pearlie snorted. “I didn’t know you ever doubted it.”

Cal looked back toward the chuck wagon. “I tell you what, this coffee was good, but I’m gettin’ a little hungry. I wouldn’t mind havin’ a biscuit or two.”

“I seen Sally put some in the Dutch oven just a little while ago,” Pearlie said. “I expect breakfast will be ready in a minute or two.” He looked over at a couple of lumps on the ground. The lumps were actually bedrolls and right now, both were occupied by the men who had been on nighthawk from midnight until four. “I guess I’d better wake up Billy and Hank.”

“No, let me do it,” Cal said. “They seemed to take particular pleasure in waking me up this mornin’ at four when it was time for me to take the watch. I am going to enjoy returning the favor.”

“Be my guest,” Pearlie invited.

Cal crept over very quietly until he was positioned exactly between the two sleeping men. He stood there for a moment, listening to their soft snoring as he smiled in anticipation of the moment. Then he yelled, at the top of his voice.

“All right you two, let’s go! Get ’em up an’ head ’em out! We can’t wait around here till Christmas!”

Billy and Hank awoke with a start, Billy letting out a little shout of surprise as he did so.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Billy asked.

Cal laughed.

Hank groaned. “Damn you, Cal, what do you mean a’wakin’ me up like that. I was talkin’ to the purtiest little lady you ever did see, in my dream. And iffen I had seen you in my dream doin’ somethin’ like what you just done, why, I would’a shot you down and that’s a fact.”

Cal laughed. “You’ll dream her up again, I’m sure,” he said. “’Cause, truth to tell, dreams are about the only place you’ll ever be talkin’ to a pretty girl anyway.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, what about after that baseball game? I danced with lots of pretty girls.”

“They wasn’t dancin’ with you,” Cal said. “They was dancin’ with a baseball player. Anyhow, what are we standin’ here gabbin’ for when Miz Sally has gone to all the trouble of cookin’ up a good breakfast. I figured you’d want to eat the biscuits while they’re still hot.”

“I tell you what I would like to do with those biscuits while they’re still hot,” Billy grumbled. “And it ain’t got nothin’ to do with eatin’ ’em.”

Cal laughed. “Come on, boys, we’re burnin’ sunlight,” he said more softly.

After breakfast, all the cowboys saddled their mounts, then rode out to get the herd moving again. Nearby, three thousand head of cattle, fully awake on this, a new day, milled around nervously. The animals, used to the freedom of the open range, were now forced together in one large, controlled herd. That made them acutely aware of different sights, sounds, smells, and sensations, and they were growing increasingly anxious over the change in what had been their normal routine. So far there had been no trouble, but Smoke knew that the least little thing could spook them: a wolf, a lightning flash, or a loud noise.

He listened with an analytical ear to the crying and bawling of cattle. He was also aware of the shouts and whistles of the wranglers as they started the herd moving.

Although Sally’s job was to cook, sometimes in the morning she would saddle her own horse and help the others get the cattle moving. Smoke watched her dash forward to intercept three or four steers who had moved away from the herd. She stopped the stragglers and pushed them back into the herd. Smoke couldn’t help but marvel at how well his wife could ride. It was almost as if she and the horse were sharing the same musculature and nerve endings.

Once the herd was actually under way, though, Sally returned to the chuck wagon. The vehicle was being drawn by a particularly fine-looking team of mules. Smoke had hitched up the team for her, and he was standing alongside the wagon as Sally approached.

“Maybe you should break those three steers up,” Sally suggested, pointing toward the animals she had just pushed back into the herd. “I swear, this is the third day in a row I’ve had to deal with them. I believe if they were separated, we wouldn’t have a problem.”

“Or maybe we would have a problem three times as large,” Smoke suggested. “How do you know each one of the cows wouldn’t just recruit new cows to help them out? Then you’d have three eruptions instead of just one.”

Sally nodded. “You may be right,” she said. “I guess I can push them back in tomorrow, or every day as far as that goes, just as long as we’re on the trail.”

“That’s my girl,” Smoke said with a broad smile.

Sally walked up to the side of the chuck wagon and tied a knot in a hanging piece of rawhide cord. Each knot represented a day, while a double knot indicated a Sunday. As they knew what day they left, the strip of rawhide would serve as an effective calendar.

“How is the chuck wagon working out for you?” Smoke asked. “Is there anything we need to change?”

“Nothing needs to be changed,” Sally said. “I have to hand it to you, Smoke. When you built this wagon, you did a great job.”

“All I did was put it together,” Smoke said. “You’re the one that had it all laid out.” Smoke ran his hand lightly across the chuck box, which was a shelf of honeycombs and cubbyholes.

“Well, I guess I’d better get going,” Sally said. Kissing him, she climbed up onto the wagon seat and, with a slap of the reins against the backs of the team, the wagon moved forward.

Smoke watched Sally move out at a rather brisk rate, going much faster than the herd. It was her job each day not only to find a spot that would be suitable to bed down the herd for the night, but also to have the camp established and the supper cooked. By the time the weary cowboys arrived with the herd, they would be ready to eat, then turn in, leaving Sally to clean up and roll out the bread dough for the next day.

Smoke watched Sally drive her wagon by the herd. Then he swung into the saddle and turned his attention to the task at hand, moving the herd another twenty miles.