A Yondering Page 2
“You cheated me out of that race money, and I aim to have it, there is two of us and one of you!” A man called from the woods.
“Well…which one of you wants to die first? It don’t make me no never mind!” I called back. I was beginning to feel down right contrary about that time.
“Lets get out of here Claude, that there’s one of them Clinch mountain boys, and they are meaner than a sack full of wildcats.”
“I aim to have my money.” I could hear the man called Claude say.
‘Well to the dickins’ with yer money Claude, I ain’t affixing to die for it, you stay, I’m a goin’.”
I could hear the branches breaking as the man took through the trees. I reckon the other man had some doubts when he discovered he was all by himself, and a few minutes later I heard horses beating it back toward town. I was some shook up, but I finished my beans, and corn pone, swallowed a couple mouth fulls of water out of my canteen and laid back to sleep the night through. I wasn’t worried about Indians as they were further north, and weren’t apt to come this near a settlement.
The next morning I broke camp, and headed west again, only I wasn’t aiming to take the main traveled roads, I was going to take the trails across the mountains to the Mississippi river, and through the Arkansas, and Okalahoma territories, and cut north to the Rockies toward the Wyoming territory.
Actual trails were few across those mountains. Some were just game trails, some were Indian trails, and some were no trails at all, but I knew how to find them, having followed them since I was knee high to a duck. I spent two weeks meandering over what trails I could find until I began dropping down into the Mississippi Valley. I came upon a dim wagon road which was going my way, the road being fairly steep as it headed for the valley below.
I came upon a low place where there was a creek running across the road, and I figured to water my mule there, and set up camp for the night. It was sure enough wilderness and I was glad to see the creek as I pulled my mule up to water. Just as he was sticking his nose in the water, there were two men came around a sharp bend in the road ahead of me. I felt a little fidgety, but I let them come on without calling out. Those men pulled up their horses about ten feet from the creek. One of the men sat his horse and just looked at me as my mule drank; ain’t much disturbs a mule when he is at his water or feed, and the mule paid them no mind.
“We’ll have the mule, the rifle and the outfit!” The man announced, just like he was talking to a neighbor.
His words startled me. The man had nerve, that’s for sure, I looked back at him sitting his saddle like that, and demanding my stuff as if it was his own, “You can’t have it, its mine.” I began to bring me rifle up. I saw his hand as a blur as a pistol appeared. The pistol bloomed fire and smoke. I felt the shock of the large caliber bullet as it plowed into my chest, and I felt myself falling.
I didn’t awaken until three days later, and I was in a bed. A pretty blonde headed girl was changing my bandages, “Am I dead?”
“No, I don’t reckon you are mister, but there for a while it was nip, and tuck.” The girl said smiling.
“How did I get here?”
“We found you down on the road by the creek, you was all shot up bad, so we loaded you on the wagon, and brought you home with us to give you a decent burial, only you didn’t finish dying. Everybody deserves a decent burial, don’t you think?”
“Yes, as long as it’s not me being buried, I reckon they do.”
“We found your money in your boot, its still in you boot.”
“If I hadn’t of had my money in there them thieves would have gotten every last thing I had, I reckon they didn’t think to check my boots for cash.”
I looked at the walls of the log house which reminded me of home. A big man who had to stoop to come in the door entered the room, “Well I see you ain’t dead yet. Do you feel up to eating something now laddie? We got cabin stew, but not much else.”
“I reckon I could swallow a bite.”
“Get him a bowl of stew Melinda, but take out the biggest chunks of meat, I doubt he’ll be up to eating a steak for a few days yet.”
“Yes Pa.” The girl said. She turned and walked out of the room. I tell you I hadn’t seen a girl so pretty in all my born days, and I guess I looked a little long at her back side as she left the room.
I laid there in that bed thinking about the man who had shot me. The man had been fast with that pistol, and fast to want to kill a man. Man killing didn’t sit well with me. To kill a man, you had to be willing to take all he had been, or would ever be. When push come to shove I wasn’t much on that, because I knew when judgment day come, I would have to answer for it to the good Lord. My Pa, he always said that before you think to kill a man, you had better think twice. I knew also that I was on the edge of the American frontier, and some people wouldn’t let a man live, come hell or high water. The man who shot me had been such a man. There just wasn’t any police to call on. I thought about these things until I slept some more.
I must have slept the day through, and the next morning I awoke as the sun light come shining through the window. The girl came into the room with a plate of hog jaw bacon, and eggs. My stomach gave a leap when I smelled that hog jaw, there just ain’t nothing better than a plate full of hog jaw bacon, and biscuits to put a man right.
She gave me a big toothy smile as she set that plate on my lap, “This will get you going. Pa says you might be able to get out of bed in a few days.”
As I was mopping up the last of the eggs with a piece of biscuit the big man came into the room, “Your mule showed up about dark last night, and I put him in the barn lot, What name do we calling you by, now laddie?”
“I reckon that mule didn’t take to running with killers. My name is Jason Allen; sorry I haven’t introduced myself.”
“I’m Thomas Cary, and I reckon you already met Melinda proper like, she took a shine to you Mr. Allen, would you be staying long?”
“I set off for the western lands Mr. Cary, and as soon as I’m well enough to ride, I’ll be moving along.”
“I’ve heard of the Allen’s of Clinch Mountains, would you be of the same clan?”
“I would. I want to thank you Mr. Cary, for taking care of me.”
“It’s the way of we Irish to take care of our own. Who shot you Mr. Allen, and why?”
“He was a big man with a scar over his left eye, I reckon he was after whatever I had, and he was fast with a pistol, I ain’t never seen anything like it.”
“That would be Gall Reynolds; he is a bad man who came into these parts about a month ago. Him and those with him have been robbing and killing. He shot Joe Rankin down to Bean about a week ago, killed him dead, he did.”
“I got to get up Mr. Cary.” I began to try and sit up, and Cary laid his big hand on my shoulder, and pushed me back.
“Now you just hold on there son, lay there another day, you’ll break open that wound in your chest for sure.”
I hadn’t the strength to argue as the effort to sit up sent pain through my chest like a hot poker. Cary left the room, and I laid there wishing I was up and about. A while later Melinda came into the room carrying a pan of hot water, “Time for your bath Mr. Allen.” She had a big grin on her face that would make a man fidgety who ain’t used to being around anything but hounds and Indians.
“You ain’t giving me a bath Melinda Cary, you just sit that pan down on the stand there.”
“I’ve seen men Mr. Allen.”
“Yeah, well you ain’t going to see this one no more!”
She chuckled, sat the pan down and left the room, leaving me all red in the face. I swear that girl would make a man want to hitch up his mule, and run like the dogs were after him. I bathed the best I could, and then laid my head back on the pillow exhausted to the bone. She must have come to retrieve the pan because it was gone when I woke up again. I tried to get up again, and decided another
night in bed would do me no harm.
The next morning about day break I was able to stand, although I was a bit unsteady, but I laid into it, and walked into the front room. I could smell bacon smells coming from the kitchen and Thomas was sitting in a chair reading his bible by two candles. He looked up as I came into the room, “Well now boy, I see you are up and about. I don’t expect there is much that can hold you down very long.”
“I got to be getting along Mr. Cary. I’ve done troubled you too much now.”
“Ain’t no trouble son, and you need to stay out another day, I can’t let you go off and kill yourself. Now you just sit down. Melinda will have breakfast ready shortly. After you eat I want to talk to you.”
“You all come and eat.” Melinda came into the room, and announced. I tell you that girl was pretty as a picture just standing there with her hands folded. It was enough to make a man think about life.
After we ate Thomas spoke, “Let’s see if you can make it down to the barn to see to the stock Mr. Allen.”
We walked, or rather I hobbled, down to the barn, I tried to take a pitch fork to the hay, but Cary would have none of