Across the Rio Colorado (31 page)
Read Across the Rio Colorado Online
Authors: Ralph Compton
“If she doesn't, she soon will,” said McQuade. “But I'd suggest you wait a while. He's gone to talk to her, and I doubt you'd be welcome.”
“There's something purely wrong with a man who keeps secrets from his wife,” she said darkly.
She left him sitting on the tailgate of the wagon, and he hadn't the slightest doubt she would learn Puckett's secret. If not from Maggie, from Puckett himself. Mary had been gone only seconds, when Creeker showed up. Hoisting himself up, he sat beside McQuade on the wagon's tailgate.
“What would you say,” Creeker asked, “if I told you I aim to build one of the cabins for Lora and me?”
“I'd say go ahead,” said McQuade. “Hell, I'm not your daddy.”
Creeker laughed. “Let me put that another way. What do you reckon everybody else will think?”
“No worse than they already think,” McQuade replied. “After all the time you spent with her in Doc's wagon, why the sudden attack of conscience?”
“It's not so much me as Lora,” said Creeker. “She wants to turn her life around, and, well ⦠she believes this is wrong. Hell, she knows Doc and Maggie ⦔
“Doc and Maggie what?” McQuade asked.
“You mean you don't know?” Creeker asked, genuinely surprised.
“How would I know what?” McQuade asked. “Doc and Maggie are as old as I am, and I respect their right to make their own decisions. It's too bad the rest of you can't be as considerate of them.”
Creeker laughed. “Every woman in the outfit, includin'
yours, knows that Maggie wants to share a cabin with Doc Puckett, but she don't know how to talk to him about it.”
yours, knows that Maggie wants to share a cabin with Doc Puckett, but she don't know how to talk to him about it.”
“I don't want to hear about it,” said McQuade. “I'd rather fight Mexico single-handed than get caught up in this.”
Creeker departed, and within seconds, Mary returned. She took Creeker's place on the wagon's tailgate. Before she could say anything, McQuade spoke.
“I don't want to hear it.”
“How do you know what it is you don't want to hear?” she asked.
“I don't want to hear about Doc and Maggie,” said McQuade.
She laughed softly. “So you do know.”
“More than I want to know,” McQuade said. “I don't care what Doc and Maggie do, and I care even less what the rest of you think of it.”
She slid off the wagon's tailgate and left him alone with his thoughts. He missed the days on the trail, when threats from Indians, outlaws, and the elements were all he had to contend with.
The following morning, when the emigrants began making decisions regarding the construction of cabins, McQuade stayed out of it. Instead, he took the briefcase that had belonged to Hedgepith to Sam Houston, and the two of them sat at one of the rough tables in the fort, going through the papers.
“I don't look for these to be of much use,” said Houston. “As I understand it, there are two forces within the Mexican government. One of these, the weaker of the two, had plans to colonize Texas, using these land grants as bait. The stronger force, howeverâand this is headed by Santa Annaâfears colonization by Americans. Santa Anna believes, and correctly so, that this can only lead to an eventual fight for independence.”
“Establishing these grants along the Brazos and Colorado Rivers shows sound thinking on somebody's part,”
McQuade said. “Without the harsh winters that plague the territory farther north, a farmer with any ambition could raise two crops a season. That's why most of these folks are holding on to these papers. They want this land along the Rio Colorado.”
McQuade said. “Without the harsh winters that plague the territory farther north, a farmer with any ambition could raise two crops a season. That's why most of these folks are holding on to these papers. They want this land along the Rio Colorado.”
“No reason they shouldn't have it,” said Houston. “When we win our independence, we must colonize the territory, and as I have told you before, those of you who have come to fight for Texas will have first claim.”
“As I understand it,” McQuade said, “this business with these grants has been going on for more than twenty years. What became of those emigrants who arrived early, taking possession of their grants while Stephen Austin was still in charge?”
“Most of them fell victim to intimidation,” said Houston. “Night riders burned some of them out and others were shot down from ambush. Many of those who remained decided the land wasn't worth it, and returned to the states.”
“These men who are with you seem dedicated,” McQuade said. “How many are owners of grants who have decided to stay and fight?”
“Of the two hundred, not more than a dozen,” said Houston. “They all believe they've got more at stake than just the land, for they lost their women and children to Mexican night riders.”
“What about the others?” McQuade asked. “What's their stake in this?”
“I suppose you've heard of the fight at the Alamo, and how we eventually took our revenge at San Jacinto,” said Houston.
“Yes,” McQuade said.
“Most of these men who have stood by me here were volunteers who remained after our victory at San Jacinto,” said Houston.
“Most of the men who died at the Alamo were volunteers, I understand,” McQuade replied.
“Yes,” said Houston. “Thirty-three of them were from
Tennessee, and Travis, their post commander, was from Alabama. These men, these Americans, are proud of their heritage, and they believe these plains we call Texas are destined for something far greater than high-handed control by a Mexican dictator.”
Tennessee, and Travis, their post commander, was from Alabama. These men, these Americans, are proud of their heritage, and they believe these plains we call Texas are destined for something far greater than high-handed control by a Mexican dictator.”
“I share that belief,” McQuade said. “Has any move been made toward statehood?”
“In a small way,” said Houston. “The congress is controlled by northern industrialists who don't care a fig for anything that doesn't further their own interests. I believed that our victory at San Jacinto would have some impact, but so far it has not.”
“So you aim to continue the fight, statehood or not,” McQuade said.
“I do,” said Houston. “I will fight until we win, or until I am shot dead.”
“What becomes of Texas if we win the fight for independence and we're still denied statehood?” McQuade asked.
“This will become the Republic of Texas,” said Houston. “If we're strong enough to defeat Santa Anna's forces and win our independence, we'll find a way to override these mule-headed, short-sighted politicians from the north.”
McQuade laughed. “I'm beginning to see how you've held your forces together. You've convinced me we can give these Mexicans a good switching and send them running home to mama.”
It was Houston's turn to laugh. “I fear it won't be that simple. Santa Anna seems to have a strange hold on Mexico, and I believe there'll be war before he'll leave us be. While we have the spirit, we are lacking the resources. The goods and supplies you brought to us were in answer to a prayer, but over many weeks, monthsâmaybe even yearsâthey'll be exhausted. We had the promise of assistance from sympathizers in St. Louis, our goods to come by steamboat to Little Rock, and the rest of the way by wagon, but nothing ever came.”
“Maybe the wagons were intercepted by Comanches, or Mexican forces,” McQuade said.
“I'd like to believe that,” said Houston, “but I sent an escort all the way to the Red, to within a hundred and thirty miles of Little Rock. These men waited for more than two weeks past the time the wagons should have arrived. I believe there are men in high places who are going to great lengths to sabotage our efforts here.”
“But why?” McQuade asked.
“There are some who don't want Texas independence because they believe it will lead to Texas statehood,” said Houston, “and somehow they have exerted enough influence to cut off any assistance.”
“Maybe there's a way to get around that,” McQuade said. “Suppose we got supplies from Mexico City?”
“My God,” said Houston, “what are you proposing?”
“Exactly what I said,” McQuade replied, “but there is one condition. It all depends on Santa Anna sending a ship with supplies to Matagorda Bay. Remember me suggesting that we sink any incoming Mexican ships?”
“Yes,” said Houston. “An excellent proposal.”
“Maybe not,” McQuade said, “after what you've just told me about your supply line to St. Louis being cut. Suppose, after that ship delivered its supplies to Monclova and sailed back to Mexico City, we attacked Monclova's bunch and took that shipload of supplies for our own use?”
“Yaaahoooo!” Houston shouted, slapping his thigh with his old hat. “That's got to be the wildest, boldest scheme ever concocted, especially allowing the ship to escape. There'll be no reason for 'em not to bring another load of goods, and we can take that, too.”
“Maybe,” said McQuade. “It'll depend on how strong Monclova is with Santa Anna. If Monclova chooses to send a rider to Mexico City with news we've hijacked his cargo, what will Santa Anna do? Will he dispatch another shipload, knowing we'll grab that, as well?”
“I doubt it,” Houston replied, “but suppose we staked
out Monclova's camp and saw to it that his rider never reached Santa Anna?”
out Monclova's camp and saw to it that his rider never reached Santa Anna?”
McQuade laughed. “I believe we may have solved one of our problems. At least for a while. Trouble is, we'll be leaving Monclova in a bad position, and he'll be desperate to get word to Santa Anna. Once his outfit gets low on ammunition, we'll have him at our mercy just as he once had you at his. We can wipe him out to the last man.”
“That's a start,” said Houston, “but it won't stop Santa Anna from marching men from Matamoros. Once he learns we're hijacking his ships, he can always resort to wagons with an armed escort.”
“When he begins marching in from the south,” McQuade said, “that's when we'll have to position men at regular intervals from east to west, to warn us of their coming.”
“Great God,” said Houston, “we'd have men strung out for three hundred and fifty miles.”
“Maybe you're right,” McQuade said. “That might be stretching us a mite thin. Just how sure are you that soldiers marching overland would come from Matamoros?”
“Because Matamoros is practically on the Gulf,” said Houston, “and soldiers could be brought there by sailing ship. If they were to enter Texas farther west, they would have to march a great distance to join Monclova.”
“That could be the answer, then,” McQuade said. “Send a couple of men south, with instructions to watch for troop movement or anything. suspicious out of Matamoros. They could take grub for two weeks, and they would be relieved by two more men with grub for another two weeks. When there's movement of supplies or soldiers from Matamoros, they can easily warn us, and we can act accordingly.”
“That's so practical,” said Houston, “I think we should begin watching Matamoros just as quickly as a pair of riders can get there. Then we'll be protected from the possibility of soldiers showing up unexpectedly by land.”
“That would be a wise move,” McQuade said.
“We'll be watching Matagorda Bay and Matamoros,” said Houston. “Do you think we should be watching Monclova's camp, as well?”
“Not until after the ship arrives and we hijack its freight,” McQuade said. “Then we're facing the possibility that Monclova will send a rider with news of what we've done. Right now, if we're covering Matagorda Bay and Matamoros, I think they'll have trouble taking us by surprise.”
“I'll choose two men to ride south to Matamoros immediately,” said Houston. “Place all these grant papers back in the briefcase. I can't say for sure that we won't be needing them, but in any case, it'll be a while.”
McQuade left the fort elated, believing he had contributed something toward overcoming the many obstacles they would face in a fight for independence. He found many of the emigrant wagons had been unloaded, their contents covered by the wagon canvas: Wagon boxes had been removed, leaving only the running gear and iron cross-frames over which logs might be stacked. There were iron U-rings at either end of the cross-frames, and into these, four-foot lengths of heavy oak were being driven. This prevented the loaded logs from shifting and rolling off to the side. Most of the women seemed excited, for the proposed cabins seemed a little closer to becoming reality.
“Shouldn't we be stripping our wagon down?” Mary asked.
“Not necessarily,” said McQuade. “If we're building cabins for eight families, there's no reason to strip down all eight wagons. Some of the longer logs needed for the walls can't be hauled in by wagon. They'll have to be snaked in by mules, one at a time. Since there's goin' to be eight of us sharing a cabin, have you given any thought to who we'll be living and eating with?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “Doc and Maggie, Gunter and Ellen
Warnell, Eli and Odessa Bibb, Cal and Lucy Tabor, Will and Minerva Haymes, Creeker and Lora, and Joel and Mamie Hanby.”
Warnell, Eli and Odessa Bibb, Cal and Lucy Tabor, Will and Minerva Haymes, Creeker and Lora, and Joel and Mamie Hanby.”
“Good,” said McQuade. “I'm glad you settled that.”
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