Outlaw Pass (9781101544785) (23 page)

Black Otter stood, watching impatiently as Bonnie directed Lacey and Finn to form the animals in single file. When they were ready to march, he walked up to Bonnie and, without warning, suddenly thrust his hand up between her legs, receiving a sharp angry rap across his forearm, which encouraged him to immediately withdraw the hand. His reaction was no more than a satisfied grunt and a solemn nod. Then, his curiosity satisfied, he turned and signaled with his hand. “Come.”

“You crazy damn savage!” Bonnie swore in stunned anger. Then she glared at Finn, who was chuckling in spite of their dangerous situation.

“He just wanted to see for himself if there wasn't really any male organs up there,” Finn said between chuckles. “You had him wonderin'.”

At a later time, she might appreciate the humor, but for now, with the sound of rifle fire at their doorstep, she was not amused. “Get going,” she ordered Finn, then hustled Lacey along behind him, and they filed into the pines behind Black Otter.

 

“This ain't doin' us no good,” Cruz complained loud enough for his three partners to hear. “They can keep us pinned down here all day.” The rifles up above clearly held the advantage, and he could only hope they would give out of cartridges before he did. He was no longer worried about Indians. Judging by the scant number of arrows, and the fact that they all seemed to come from the same place, he decided there were not enough to make a difference. It was the Henry and the carbine that held them pinned down.

“We got to draw back from here and find a way to circle round 'em,” Rawhide said, crouching low behind Buster's body, a carcass by then displaying a couple more arrows protruding as well as a fair amount of weight in lead slugs within.

“Shit,” Seeger commented. “Look around you. You see any way to circle around? This damn gulch is the only way up I see. You'd have to be a damn spider to climb up the sides of it. How we gonna get the horses up?”

“Well, we can't stay here,” Cruz said. “That's for damn sure. Whaddayou say, Red Blanket?”

“Seeger's right,” Red Blanket answered. “Only thing to do is go back down to the bottom and go around this mountain to see if we can find another way up to that waterfall.”

With no better suggestions forthcoming, Cruz said, “All right, let's back outta here, then.” He pushed back from the log and slid a short way on his belly until he felt it safe to scramble down farther on his hands and knees. Following his example, Red Blanket and Seeger left the rocks in the same fashion. Only Rawhide elected to rise to a crouch and make a run for it down the stream. His mistake cost him his life as a bullet from Adam's rifle caught him squarely between his shoulder blades. The other three hurried to safety, no one of them inclined to stop to check on Rawhide's condition, and the only comment made was Cruz's pronouncement when he looked back to see Rawhide drop in the middle of the stream. “Damn fool.”

Above them, Adam rose high enough to peer over the top of the boulder. The one clear target that Rawhide had offered was the only opportunity he had to thin out his attackers. He was certain by this time that there were no others but the five he had seen before the shooting started. Now the odds were improving, since the number had been reduced to three, and they had withdrawn, giving up the siege for the time being. But Adam knew it meant no more than a temporary lull in their attack. At least, he now had time to make his escape after the others, so he left the boulder and hurried to the shelter where his horse was tied. Taking the bay's reins, he led him into the pines above the camp. The floor of the forest lay thick with pine needles, but the trail was not difficult to follow because of the many hooves of horses and mules that had just preceded him.

 

Near the base of the mountain where the outlaws had left their horses, the three remaining members of the search party were already squabbling over the horses that had belonged to Rawhide and Buster. “I expect the only fair thing to do is to odd-man-out for 'em,” Seeger said. “We can cut the cards and the low card don't get no horse. The high card takes his pick, and the next-highest card gets the other one, that piece of crow bait that Buster rode. I got a deck of cards in my saddlebag.”

“I don't trust no deck of cards you own,” John Red Blanket said.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Cruz demanded. “There's enough gold up there to buy a herd of horses. We need to find a way to get up to that camp, and you two are arguin' over two horses. And Rawhide and Buster's bodies ain't even cold yet.”

“Well, Lord have mercy on their souls,” Seeger replied sarcastically. “I know you're really gonna miss'em. They was always goin' everywhere together, so now I reckon they're on the stagecoach to hell about now.”

“That damn hired gun is pretty damn handy with that Henry rifle of his,” Red Blanket said. “I'm tellin' you, Cruz, you shoulda seen that posse from Bannack. He cleaned 'em all out. There was dead men lyin' all over that riverbank.”

“And now he's already took care of two of us,” Seeger reminded them needlessly.

“So what are you sayin',” Cruz asked pointedly, “that we should just let 'em go and ride on back to Virginia City—tell Plummer we quit on 'em 'cause they was shootin' at us? Maybe you ain't rememberin' they're totin' a helluva lot of gold dust with 'em, but I aim to claim my share of it. If you two ain't got enough gizzard to go after that son of a bitch with the rifle, then get on your horses and turn tail and run. And you can take them two extra horses with you, but the packhorse stays with me.”

“Ain't no need to get your bowels in an uproar,” Seeger said. “Nobody wants to quit on you. Ain't that right, Red Blanket? Hell, we want our share of that gold dust, same as you. Just sayin' the bastard can shoot don't mean we ain't goin' after him.”

Cruz glared at Red Blanket then, and the Indian shrugged his indifference. “All right, then,” Cruz said, “let's find us a way up to that camp.” He turned his horse to the south and started out around the base of the mountain. They had gone a couple of hundred yards when he said, “Leave Rawhide and Buster's horses here. We can come back for 'em later.”

The fugitives had not gone far before the rugged climb became too much for Finn's weakened body. The gritty Irishman tried to keep up the pace, but it was apparent to Bonnie that he was not going to make it much longer. She finally called for Black Otter to stop, and together they lifted Finn up on his horse. “I can walk,” he protested feebly.

“Like hell you can,” Bonnie said. “You're just slowing us down, you and those damn mules.”

“Maybe so,” he said gamely. “But if it comes to a choice to leave one of us behind, I'll wager it won't be the mules.”

“Looks like you're thinking straight,” she said with a chuckle. “You just worry about hanging on to that saddle. If you fall off, you won't stop rolling till you reach the bottom of the mountain—and we don't have time to go down to get you.”

Finn couldn't help grinning at the aging prostitute's bluster. He had seen enough of the tough-talking woman to determine that she was not all talk, and he was well aware that their little party would be a lot worse off without her courage. Her warning to stay in the saddle was not wasted upon him, however, for the barren rocky slope they had encountered above the tree line was a lot safer on foot than perched on a horse. Black Otter led Finn's horse, with his mules on a line behind, followed by Bonnie and Lacey leading the other horses. It was easy to envision the catastrophe that could result from the slip of a hoof and the chaotic scene of a tangle of horses, people, and mules careening down the mountainside. The spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and the valley far below them were consequently wasted on the party desperate to escape with their lives. With no choice but to trust the Bannock warrior, who had mysteriously come to their aid, they trudged across the rugged shoulders of the mountain, their destination unknown. Every quarter hour or so, Lacey looked back behind them, hoping to see Adam appear until Bonnie finally told her to watch her footing and forget about Adam. “He can take care of himself,” she assured the young girl, but she was not without concern for the safety of their solemn protector.

When they reached a point where Bonnie felt she couldn't climb any farther, Black Otter pointed toward a notch in the slope below them that appeared to be a gully leading down into the tree line. “Go down now,” he said.

“Well, hallelujah,” Bonnie replied, “I thought I was gonna have to crawl up on my horse, too.” Watching Finn grasping his saddle horn for fear his horse was going to slide during the steep descent, however, she was just as happy to be on foot.

Once they entered the mouth of the gully, their way was not so steep. Still, when watching their guide when he paused to determine the best path to take, they could see it was obvious that he had never led a horse along this trail before. His judgment proved sound, though, and before much longer, they were making their way down through the pines again, this time to a hogback that linked them with the neighboring mountain. Black Otter followed a game trail through a belt of pines so thick that it was dark as night at ground level. Still he pushed on, never slowing his pace until they emerged to find themselves entering a large meadow. Across the meadow, and down again through another belt of trees, they followed until on the opposite side of the second mountain. “Not far now,” he told Bonnie as they waited for Lacey to catch up. “There,” he said, and pointed to a spot across a narrow valley where a broad stream flowed down from the mountain. Bonnie and Finn strained to see what he was pointing to, but they could see nothing but more forest, although a thin ribbon of gray smoke wafted lazily up from the dark trees.

After descending to the valley floor, they were at last able to ride the horses, and Black Otter led them across to the base of the mountain where the stream turned and meandered in a crooked path down the valley. Only then did the three white strangers see the single tipi tucked back in a stand of fir trees. A woman working on a deer hide near the fire stopped and stood up when she saw the party approaching. Her first thought was to run, but then she saw that it was her husband leading the line of horses and mules. She then walked slowly out to meet them.

“Why do you bring the white people here?” Little Flower asked, at once alarmed as she peered at the odd trio of strangers. She had heard the shooting on the far side of the mountains and had fervently prayed that Black Otter was nowhere near it.

Answering in his native tongue, he said, “They are the friends of Big Hunter. One of them, the man, is wounded. They were attacked by bad white men. Big Hunter stayed behind to let us get away.” Big Hunter was the name Black Otter had given his white friend on the occasion when they first met, and Adam had given him a gift of one of the deer he had shot.

At once distressed, Little Flower could not help thinking of the danger she and Black Otter had faced when they had fled from their native land in Idaho Territory to escape the soldiers who wanted to drive them to the reservation. “Why do you bring these people here?” she repeated. “The bad white people will follow them to our camp, and we will have to run again.”

“They are running from the bad people, just as we ran from the soldiers,” Black Otter replied. “They mean us no harm, and they do not want to remain here in these mountains. I think Big Hunter is big medicine, and I will help him escape these people who would do him harm.”

“She doesn't look too happy to see us,” Bonnie remarked. The two women and Finn had been waiting while Black Otter explained the situation to his wife. Since no one of the three knew even a smattering of words in the Bannock tongue, they were not certain but what they might be ordered to move on immediately. “Do you understand any of that talk?” Bonnie asked.

“Not a word,” Finn replied, just as the conversation between husband and wife ended, and they both turned to face the three white people.

“Little Flower,” Black Otter said, introducing the Indian woman. “She will give you food. Maybe Big Hunter be here soon.”

“Who?” Lacey asked Bonnie.

“I guess that's his name for Adam,” Bonnie replied. “Here, help me get Finn off his horse.” She was ready to accept any hospitality offered, with or without a smile on Little Flower's face. With help from the two women, Finn dismounted and sat down near the fire to rest. The hazardous ride along the steep mountain slopes had taken a lot out of his tired body. “I'll break out that old coffeepot of yours,” Bonnie told him. “I doubt if these folks have any.”

 

It was a rugged trail Adam followed, making him wonder if he had not lost it in several places when it led him across wide areas of solid rock where there were no tracks. Remembering Black Otter's directions to his camp, he wondered why it was necessary to keep climbing up the mountain instead of circling it lower toward the base. The question was answered, however, whenever he emerged from the belts of pines to reveal sheer cliffs that stood over deep canyons. Though difficult to travel, the barren mountaintops presented any number of places to wait in ambush for anyone following him. With that in mind, and hoping to stop his pursuers before they could catch up to Finn and the women, he kept an eye out for the best choice for ambush. When he came across an outcropping of rocks that were broad enough to conceal his horse and give him an unobstructed field of fire, he decided that he would find no better. So he dismounted and led his horse behind the wall of rocks. Drawing his rifle from the saddle sling, he selected a protected spot to await his pursuers, thinking they should not be far behind. The time ticked slowly by with no sign of the three outlaws. Still he remained there for a couple of hours before coming to the opinion that they must not have realized that he had withdrawn from the camp. They had evidently given up on continuing up the stream to his camp, and consequentially, did not follow his and Black Otter's trail out of the camp. Maybe they had stopped to take possession of the six extra horses. It puzzled him, for it seemed unlikely that the three had given up and quit the chase, but it was something to hope for. Finally, he decided they had. Looking up at the midday sun, he continued on his way, thinking that it might not be wise to let the sun go down and catch him still high up on the mountain.