Ralph Compton Whiskey River (25 page)

“Don't get too soft on him,” said Mark. “Before this is over, you may be face-to-face with him, his Colt spittin' lead.”

As night approached, Estrello had something to say, and it was met with some mixed emotions. “Until this Indian threat is over, we're going to stand guard over the wagons. Half the outfit until midnight, the rest of it until dawn. The first watch begins at dusk.” He pointed to Wilder, Mark, Bill, and ten others. “You're on the first watch until midnight. The rest of us will take over the second watch. Keep your eyes open, your guns loaded, and your mouths shut. There won't be a moon until late.”

“I hate it, all of you being on the same watch with Wilder,” said Betsy. “He could shoot one of you and blame it on the darkness.”

“I think he's made it a little obvious he doesn't like any of us,” Nick said. “It's to our advantage. If he starts taking shots are us, Estrello will know why.”

“With Bill and Mark and the rest of us, and five of them on the first watch, there'll be enough of us to watch one another's back,” Vernon said.

“There's a chance the Indians won't show up after dark,” said Carl. “Some of the tribes are superstitious about fighting at night. With our luck the whole bunch is likely Comanches. They'll kill at midnight as readily as they will in the middle of the day.”

Darkness crept in, bringing with it a few stars. Carl and Lee worked as a team, Vernon and Todd as a second, Nick and Ed as a third, while Mark and Bill made up a fourth. Of Estrello's men, there was Hiram, Odell, Hamby, Suggs, Wilder, and Irvin. The wagons had been half circled, with the circular side to the north to provide some protection for the defenders should the expected attack come from that direction. The teamsters stood watch over the first five wagons, while the six Estrello men took the last three. The moon had yet to rise, and the darkness seemed all the more intense when drifting clouds covered the faraway stars.

But there was no sign of the Indians during the first watch. Estrello and the rest of the outfit took over at midnight, while the first watch rolled into their blankets. Nothing seemed amiss until first light. Irvin and Suggs had taken it upon themselves to watch Nick's wagon, which was the last in line.

“I aim to take a look at my wagon,” said Nick. “I wouldn't put it past Suggs and Irvin to tap one of the kegs and drink some of the stuff.”

By the time Nick reached the wagon, he could smell raw whiskey. He loosened the rear canvas pucker, and all the barrels still had sealed lids. Finally, he looked under the wagon and saw the dribble of whiskey. The rest of the outfit was having breakfast when Nick got Estrello's attention.

“They got to us last night,” Nick said. “You'd better have a look.”

Estrello slammed down his tin cup and without a word headed for Nick's wagon. Nick hunkered down, pointing to the thin stream of escaping whiskey.

“Barrel may have sprung a leak,” said Estrello.

“I doubt it,” Nick said. “See those wood shavings on the ground? One of 'em managed to cut through the wagon box, and then through the bottom of one of the kegs.”

“Hell's fire,” shouted Estrello, “that would have taken him half the night. I want to know when this happened and who was responsible for watching this wagon.”

“The moon rose late,” Nick said, “and from the puddle beneath the wagon, I'd say the Indians did this before midnight.”

Estrello said nothing, making his way back to the rest of the outlaws. His eyes roamed over them all, and finally he spoke. “Who had watch over that last wagon over yonder, during the first watch?”

“Irvin and me,” said Suggs. “Why?”

“Because while you two were standing there jawing, an Indian got under the wagon and cut a hole all the way into a whiskey barrel. God knows how much whiskey he took, and the rest is being wasted on the ground.”

“Ah, hell,” Irvin said, “I don't believe that. I'll see for myself.”

“So will I,” said Suggs.

Estrello said nothing. The proof was undeniable, and when the two returned, he would give them hell, making of them an example for the other outlaws.

“Damn it,” said Suggs, “it was black as the inside of a stovepipe last night. Couldn't see nothin'. Besides, how do you know it didn't happen on the second watch?”

“Too much whiskey's been wasted,” Estrello said. “With that and what the Indian took, the barrel must be near empty. I want the two of you to get in the wagon, get to that leaking barrel, and set it out here. We'll plug the hole and save any whiskey that's left.”

“Get us some help,” said Irvin. “That's a hell of a lot of work for two men.”

“Two men stood by and let it happen,” Estrello said. “Now get started.”

In silent fury the two outlaws began their task while Estrello watched. They had to remove four full barrels before they reached the leaking barrel.

“Move it down here upside-down,” said Estrello.

When that had been done, Estrello cut off a piece of a dead pine limb as big as his thumb. With his knife he fashioned a wooden stopper that he drove into the hole where the barrel had been leaking. Using the butt of his Colt, he drove the stopper in as tightly as he could. From the wagon box he then took a small crowbar and pried the lid off the whiskey keg. They could see the bottom of the keg, for there wasn't more than a gallon or two of the murky liquid remaining.

“Nail something over that hole in the bed of the wagon,” Estrello ordered, “and then reload the four barrels you took out. Bring that near empty one with you. I want all the others to see what happens when a man on watch is doin' something else.”

Aware that their ordeal wasn't over, the furious duo began wrestling the heavy kegs of whiskey back into the wagon. Finished, they leaned on the wagon's tailgate, trying to catch their wind.

“He still can't be sure that happened on our watch,” Suggs said.

“Ah, hell,” said Irvin, “he's right. There's too much whiskey gone through that little hole. It had to drip for most of the night, and we don't know how much the Indian got.”

Seizing the nearly empty keg, they took it with them. Some of the outlaws who didn't particularly like either man were grinning. Estrello looked grim.

“I want every man of you to look in there,” Estrello ordered. “Stackler, that includes you and your bunch.”

Estrello removed the keg's lid, waiting for them all to file past the keg for a look. Ed and his companions waited until the rest of the men had finished.

“Stackler,” said Wilder, “how could that damn dog of yours allow an Indian to sneak in that close? Where was the varmint when he could have been useful?”

“Likely tryin' to catch himself somethin' to eat,” Ed said. “So what? It was Suggs and Irvin who had guns and were supposed to be watching that wagon.”

“He's dead right,” said Estrello. “Tonight, Tilden and Worsham will move to the first watch, while Suggs and Irvin go to the second with me. Let down your guard for just one minute, and I'll be watching. If this happens again, whoever's responsible can saddle up and ride out. That is, if I don't kill him first.”

None of the outlaws were smiling, for the ultimatum had been directed at them all. Not until Bill, Mark, and their companions returned to their camp did any of them speak.

“The Indian couldn't have taken much whiskey,” said Betsy. “The rest just leaked out.”

“That the Indian took any whiskey at all is bad news,” Mark said. “Now they know what these wagons are loaded with, and they won't be satisfied sneaking around in the dark, stealing a little at a time.”

Mark's prophecy came to pass before the end of the day. The wagons had moved on, covering maybe twelve miles, and the wary outfit stopped for the night an hour before sundown.

“Here come the Indians!” one of the outlaws suddenly shouted.

The outlaws seized their Winchesters. Mark, Bill, and their companions made no hostile moves, for the Indians were headed for the main camp, where Estrello waited.

“That looks like some of the same Indians Estrello's been selling to,” said Amanda. “The big Indian with the crooked nose is Broken Nose. He's always managed to get a keg of whiskey for his own use. We may not get to the Washita. Estrello may have to sell to them right here.”

“I don't see any packhorses of pelts and no horses or mules to trade,” Bill said. “It's possible they aim to just take the whiskey without paying.”

“My God,” said Vernon, “there's enough of them to kill us all ten times over. If they decide to fight, are we siding Estrello and his bunch?”

“We'll have no choice,” Ed said. “They've seen us on the wagon boxes, and as far as they're concerned, we're part of the Estrello gang.”

The horde of Indians separated. Twenty or more of them paused within a few yards of Mark, Bill, and their companions. The larger body rode on, coming face-to-face with Estrello and the rest of the gang. Estrello said nothing, waiting. Broken Nose spoke.

“Want whiskey.”

“The whiskey's for sale when we reach the Washita,” said Estrello.

“Want whiskey now,” Broken Nose said.

“Sell whiskey for pelts, horses, and mules on Washita,” said Estrello.

“No pelt, no horse, no mule,” Broken Nose said. “Want whiskey now.”

Broken Nose wore a single feather in his hair, and suddenly, when a Colt roared, the feather disappeared. Quick as a cat, Estrello moved, smashing his fist into Wilder's snarling face. Wilder went down, dropping the Colt. Broken Nose and his companions had not moved. The Indian spoke again, this time more demanding.

“Want Whiskey. You give.”

“No,” said Estrello. “We sell whiskey at the Washita.”

Broken Nose wheeled his horse and rode toward the west, his companions following.

“Now what?” Hiram wondered.

“We get ready for a fight,” said Estrello. “Some of those Indians are the same ones who have been buying from us on the Washita. What the hell's happened to them?”

“They're actin' like they know that this is the last of the whiskey,” Schorp said.

Wilder sat up, rubbing his jaw.

“You hotheaded son-of-a-bitch, I should shoot you,” Estrello said. “Next time, I will.”

“We'll have to fight anyway,” said Wilder, “unless you aim to give 'em the whiskey.”

“We may have to fight,” Estrello said, “but only a damn fool hurries it up.”

 

“For a minute, there, I thought all of us were dead,” said Todd.

“We would have been, but for one thing,” Nick said. “Indians want an edge, to strike when they're least expected. They didn't like the odds.”

“Nick's right,” said Ed. “They're more likely to jump us on the trail at first light, or near sundown, when we're give out.”

“Do we just wait on them to come after us?” Betsy asked.

“If I had any choice, I wouldn't,” said Vernon.

“Neither would I,” Mark said. “They left a trail we can follow in the dark. Our only hope is to get them before they get us.”

“Kill them all?” asked Amanda.

“No,” Mark said. “An attack against such numbers would be foolish. The Comanches once trapped a few Texans, including me. We didn't have a chance, but during the night, we found that Comanche camp and scattered their horses to hell and gone. While the whole lot of them was afoot, looking for their horses, we saddled up and got the hell out of there.”

“It makes sense to me,” said Ed, “but do you aim to suggest it to Estrello? The less trouble we have, and the sooner we reach the Washita, the sooner this bunch will cut our string.”

“We may have to,” Mark said, “to save our own hides. Trouble is, if we stampede the horses, leaving that many Indians afoot, can we make it to the Washita before they find their mounts and come after us?”

“I have my doubts,” said Lee. “We've been on the trail three days, and I doubt we've covered more than ten miles a day. If we take their horses, we'll really give this bunch somethin' to fight about, once they catch up to us.”

“It's a risk we'll have to take,” Mark said. “We can't save ourselves without saving the rest of these varmints. I'll talk to Estrello.”

They watched Mark approach the band of outlaws.

“Estrello,” said Mark, “I need to talk to you in private.”

An uproar of shouting and cursing erupted among the outlaws, but Estrello ignored them. He nodded in agreement, following Mark toward the wagons. Quickly, Mark told the outlaw leader of his plan to leave the Indians afoot.

“I like that,” Estrello said. “If it comes to a fight, we're finished. Have you done this before?”

“Once, in Texas,” said Mark. “The trick is to run their horses far enough for us to be well out of their reach before they find their mounts. There's just one big problem. They'll know you're going to the Washita, and we can't run their horses far enough to avoid having them get there ahead of us. Of these particular Indians, how many of them have been buying from you?”

“A few,” said Estrello cautiously.

“We're going to have to trail them, find where they're camped, and then stampede their horses,” Mark said, “and we'll have to do it tonight.”

“By God, you're mighty concerned with my well-being,” said Estrello.

“I'm concerned about me, my woman, and my friends,” Mark said. “I'll help you to save them. If we're forced into a fight with that many Indians, some of us will die.”