He shrugged. “It is perhaps an act of mercy. But as you wish.” He raised his head and yelled, “
Alto! Alto!
”
The firing ceased. Not a single shot had come our way. To my right Ben said, “I think we thinned them out considerable. I reckon they lost fifteen horses and upwards of ten men.”
Now twilight had asserted itself and dark was not far off. I waited, watching as the policemen pulled well back out of range. There was no distinct place for them to huddle up, it being that worthless plain. But it appeared that they drew back something like a mile. I could see them circling their horses around them and grouping together as if they were taking counsel with each other. I said to Senor Elizandro, “Will they try us tonight?” I couldn’t see him, but I felt the shrug in his voice.
“Who can say? They are not cowards, but neither are they stupid. My guess would be that they won’t, but then again they might.”
I said, dryly, “Thanks for the answer. I know less now than when I asked it.”
He said, “If you ask a difficult question, expect a difficult answer.”
“Yeah,” I said. I waited another half hour, waited until it was good dark and I could no longer see the party that was chasing us. Then I said to Ben, “I want you to stay up here and keep your eyes open. You got the best eyes of any of us, but I got to get these men fed and get this mess organized. I’ll send you something up.”
“Water,” he said. “My mouth is dry as a bone.”
And so was mine. Gunfighting is mighty thirsty work. I said to Senor Elizandro, “Miguel, leave two of your men up here to watch. We’re going down to the prairie floor and figure things out. You know this country. I’ve got to have your advice.”
He softly hollered down a little volley of Spanish. After that he got up, as I did, and started down the little incline in the dark. Ben was passing the word down to the others and I commenced to make my way through that tough underbrush. Me and Senor Elizandro arrived at the bottom at about the same time. Dark shapes were looming up all around me. I picked out Hays amongst the bunch and told him to start getting some of the canned goods and water off the packhorse. “And as soon as you’ve passed it around down here I want you to get some provender up to those who are still on the ridge.”
He had about a half dozen gallon canteens of water that he was passing around. On top of that he had two big earthenware jugs carrying about five or six gallons apiece, but there was no water for the horses. You can fill men up with water, but if they are depending on horses you better have water for the horses or else the men ain’t going to make it.
Señor Elizandro and I sat down on the ground, cross-legged. I got out my big jackknife and cut about half the top out of the can Hays had handed me. Then I took a good suck at it. It was canned tomatoes. I don’t like canned tomatoes, but it was something so I made do as best I could. I passed the knife to Elizandro and he done like I had. I said, “What’d you get.”
“Apricots,” he said. “Or peaches. Who can say? It all tastes like tin.”
“How much damage you reckon we did them?”
I could feel him shrug in the dark. “Perhaps a dozen men. More horses.”
“Oughtn’t that to slow ’em down some?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Remember, they are not like your police in Texas. They are more like soldiers.”
I didn’t know what time it was but the moon was starting to get up. It was a three-quarter moon, on the wane, and the soft light cast little shadows here and there in our ravine. Now and again I could hear a horse stamping his feet and low murmurs in Spanish and English as the men talked amongst themselves. I said to Elizandro, “What about water? We’ve got what I figure to be about eighty-five miles to go to the border and these horses ain’t going to make it without water. You know of any water holes nearby?”
He shook his head slowly. “Nooo. But then you must realize I am from the south of Monterrey. This is not my part of the country. I do know there is a river some forty miles distant.”
“Forty miles?” I said. Hell, it might have been a thousand for all the difference it made.
Just then I heard the soft sound of someone calling my name. I looked back up the slope. It was Ben who’d come about halfway down. He said, “You better get the folks up here. They is fixing to give us another try.”
I jumped swiftly to my feet, calling urgently to my party as I did so. Señor Elizandro was doing the same. In unison we raced up the incline and flopped down on the crest. By the light of the moon I could see the large party moving toward us, angling off to come around the other end of the ridge, the easterly end. Behind them they had left several fires burning, sagebrush and mesquite I reckoned. Of course that was to make us think they’d settled in for the night.
I watched them moving. They were still well out of range. I wanted them within at least three or four hundred yards. I said, “I thought they wouldn’t attack at night?”
Ben said, “That’s Indians, Justa.”
I said, a little irritably, “I know that. I just think it’s kind of damn foolhardy to attack a fortified position when you can’t see what you’re shooting at and you’re in plain sight.”
Just beyond Ben I heard Norris’s voice. He said, “Everyone is not as smart you you, Justa. And they are the law. This is their country, you know.”
I didn’t say anything. I knew that sooner or later me and Norris was going to have to have a real good talk and get matters straightened out, but I didn’t see any point in rushing it.
Ben said, “Any time now, Justa.”
I said, softly (because sound carries so much better at night), “Just fire into the bunch. It’s too dark for individual targets. But watch your elevation. Shoot almost over their heads.”
Then I sighted down the dark barrel of my carbine and squeezed the trigger. The gun boomed in my ear. I saw the mass of men and horses go into sudden confusion but I couldn’t see well enough to tell if I’d dropped anyone. On my shot guns began to boom all around me. I fired my magazine empty and was in the process of reloading when I heard shouting off to my right. “JUSTA! JUSTA! JUSTA! DAMMIT, JUSTA!”
I looked. It was Lew, anchoring the right side of our firing line. He was gesturing behind him. He yelled, “RIDERS! A HALF A DOZEN! MAYBE MORE! COMIN’ OUR WAY!”
So that was their attack. A diversion and then a flank attack. Sacrifice a few of your people to take your enemy from his blind side. I jumped up. I said, “Come on, Ben! Hurry!” I waved at Lew to come with us and then started scrambling back down the ridge. Fortunately few of the other men had seen what was occurring and so didn’t try to follow. I scrambled down the bank, still cramming cartridges into my rifle as fast as I could. Ben and Lew and I all hit the floor of the ravine at about the same time. It was a good two hundred yards to the end of the ridge. I desperately wanted to catch the ambush party as far up the line as I could. I didn’t want shooting in behind my men and I didn’t want a gunfight anywhere near our horses.
“Hurry!” I said, and began to run as fast as I could toward the end of the ridge, the direction the riders would be coming from.
We had run and staggered our way for about one hundred yards when I suddenly saw dark shapes rounding the end of the hummock. They were clearly outlined against the moon-bright sky.
I didn’t have to say a word. Like one we all dropped to a knee, finding what available cover we could behind the brush and brambles of the ravine floor. I waited, sighting on the riders. I couldn’t get a clear count but there appeared to be about eight of them. I waited and then I waited some more. They were not coming very fast, more in a slow canter than anything else. I figured they were unsure of themselves—unsure of where we were exactly and unsure of the terrain. They’d probably gotten a pretty good count on our number by the muzzle flashes earlier and they probably knew they couldn’t afford many mistakes. Well, they’d already made one. They’d started too early and they’d ridden too wide of the ridge’s end. If they’d hung closer Lew might never have seen them and they could have got in behind us and caught us in some kind of cross fire. The only man we’d of had watching our back was Jack, and he was hurt. I was going to have to see to him at first light, but meanwhile I had this other business to tend to.
I sighted in on the lead rider. Just before I squeezed the trigger I said, softly, “Fire!”
We levered and fired, levered and fired. I had expected the police to turn and run at the first volley, but they had stubbornly stood their ground, firing back. Most of the shots went singing over our heads, but then I felt one play its way through the little bush right beside my ear.
I emptied my rifle and then pulled my revolver and continued firing. At last they began retreating. It appeared to me that only two men rode away though it was difficult to tell because the horses of the downed men were stampeding along with the others.
Slowly I stood up. I said, “I’ve got to get back up on that ridge. But some of those hombres may be playing possum. Ben, you and Lew stay here and watch. I got to get back up there and see what the hell that main bunch is doing.”
I turned and limped back up the ridge. In the excitement of the moment I had run with no thought of my ankle but now, in the aftercalm, it was aching and hurting.
I got back to my original position and flopped down. The rifles had stopped firing and, in the eerie quiet, I could see the main party of the police galloping back toward the light of their campfires. I couldn’t be sure but I thought I could see a few dark shapes on the ground. I caught sight of one horse loose, but I figured the
federales
were pretty careful to gather up any strays that might have lost their riders.
I had no earthly idea what time it was. I glanced up at the sky and saw the moon was up considerable more than I’d expected. I got out my watch and struck a match and was amazed to see it was going on for eleven o’clock. It didn’t seem like it but it appeared we’d been in a three-hour gunfight, off and on. If somebody had asked me to give a time I’d of said no more than fifteen minutes.
I said to Senor Elizandro, “Leave one man up here to watch. We are going to go back down and prepare to pull out.”
I got to my knees and called softly to my men to move to the ravine floor. “Don’t make any noise. Take it slow and quiet.”
We gathered up at the base of the ridge behind a bunch of rocks that had rolled down the incline. I directed Elizandro to have his men gather up as much brush as they could and build three or four fires. I wanted our pursuers to think we’d settled in for the night.
I was concerned about Jack Cole, but first I had to get Lew and Ben back. Just as I was about to send for Hays to send him after them I heard two shots ring out down the ravine. I started hobbling that way, going as quick as I could. I wanted to call out, to yell to Ben to see what had happened, but I dared not. I just kept going, hoping they hadn’t gotten themselves suckered by a couple of Mexican police crawling up on them through the bush. But I couldn’t help my misgivings. There had been two of them and there had been two shots.
I had gone perhaps fifty yards in the dark, making my way slowly, when I saw two shapes loom up in the dark. I dropped to one knee and leveled my rifle. Then I heard English being spoken. I said, “Ben! That you?”
He said, “Yeah. Me and Lew.”
“Y’all all right?”
“Yeah, but you were right about them Mex soldiers. A couple of them were playing possum.”
“What happened?”
I heard Lew chuckle. “They ain’t playin’ possum no more.”
As we walked back the fires were starting to be lit. It made an eerie sight, horses and men milling around in that little ravine, their shadows dancing off the rocks and the side of the ridge.
We walked into the light. Jack Cole came up. He didn’t look good, but he didn’t look as bad as I’d feared. I asked after his condition. He said, “Best I can figure the slug went on through. I ought to be all right. Lost some blood is all. But the worst part is we lost two horses.”
“What!”
“Yeah. That little gunfight y’all had down the draw there. Bunch of bullets got to whizzing around down here and hit a couple of horses.”
I said, tensely, “Good horses?”
He shook his head. “Mex horses. But I can’t see none of these animals carrying double, not as give-out as they are. Not to mention short of water. So what it comes down to, the fact of the business is, we is two horses short.”
I set about getting matters organized. It was difficult because I had to give orders to Senor Elizandro’s men through him. I got him aside and said, “Look here, we’re trailing out of here tonight. These horses won’t stand much hard pushing so we are going to walk them.”
Then I gave him the bad news about the two horses we’d lost. I said, “They may be yours or they may be a couple of mine. But I can’t walk and Jack Cole can’t walk and I won’t let my brother or Lew Vera walk. They are too important. Now, how you want to handle it?”
He said, simply, “We will switch off walking, my men and me. Do you have a plan?”
I said, “Right now the only plan I got is to put as much distance between us and them
federales
as I can.”
In the flickering firelight he said, “Of course you know that will not help.”
I was hot and thirsty and damn tired. I said, “What are you talking about? We get away from them and we got a clear run to the border. All we got to do is find water for these horses and we’ll make it.”
He shook his head. “You forget the telegraph. They have such equipment that they can come to the telegraph line and make it work just as if they were in a telegraph office.”
I said, incredulously—not because I’d never heard of such a thing but because I didn’t expect it of the Mexican police—“You mean they can tap into the line?”
“Yes,” he said, gravely. “That is what I was trying to express. You must realize also that there are several rurales stations between here and the border. We will have the ones behind us and perhaps a hundred in front. This is not as easy a matter as you thought, Senor Williams.”