Lonely On the Mountain (1980) (22 page)

"He was a man loved high country," I said.

"We'll bury him here." "Smoke over yonder," Cap said. "Might be a town." "Bunch the cattle," I said. "We're going on in."

Chapter
XXIV

Of the cattle with which we started less than half remained, and they were lean and rangy from the long drive.

"Nettie," Orrin advised, "you and Mrs.

McCann had better hang back behind the herd.

We're going to have trouble." "What's this all about, anyway?" Mary McCann demanded.

"We'll know when we meet Logan, and that should be soon." "Is that a town down there?" "It is no town," Baptiste said. "Once there was fort. A man named Campbell had fort here back in 1838 or '39. Sometimes trapper mans camped here." "There's somebody here now," Haney said, "and somebody killed Shorty." Sitting my roan horse, I listened to what was being said with only a bit of my attention. What was worrying me was what we'd find down below. Shorty had been killed. Shot right through the chest and spine and shot dead. He had been shot deliberately, and to me it looked like they were trying to warn us to stay out.

"Baptiste? Why here? Why don't they want us there? Why would anybody want a herd of cattle here? There isn't enough grass to keep a herd of this size alive." "You say he say "before winter comes." They want beef. They want food. No game comes in winter. Ver' little game. People could be much hungry.

"Winter comes an' nobody here. Nobody goes out. I t'ink somebody wish to stay here through the winter." "He could be right, Tell," Orrin said.

"What other answer is there?" "Whoever it is, they mean business. The shooting of Shorty was deliberate. It was a warning.

Stay out or be killed." Suddenly, I made up my mind. My impulse was to go right on in, but into what?

"We'll camp," I said. "We'll camp right here on the mountain." Tyrel turned to stare at me. "I say let's go on in. Let's get it done." "Get what done, Tye? Who is the enemy?

Who are we hunting? Where's Logan? If he's free, he may not even be down there. If he's a prisoner, we'd better know where he is.

"There may be ten men down there, and there may be fifty. They've already showed us they are ready to fight, and to kill. According to what we heard, they've got the Samples down there and those Polon brothers.

"Go into camp," I said, "right back at the edge of the trees, and let's get set for a fight." We moved the cattle into a kind of a cul de sac at the edge of the forest. Dragging a log into place here and there and propping them against trees, we made a crude sort of a fence. It wouldn't stop a determined steer but might stop a casual wanderer.

We found a place at the edge of the trees where a fire might safely be built without being seen from too great a distance. "Fix us a good meal, Lin," I suggested. "We may need it tomorrow." "What's on your mind, Tell?" "I'm going down there tonight. I'm going to see what's going on." "They will expect somebody." "Maybe." "If Logan didn't leave that marker himself," I said, "somebody did it for him, somebody who could get out and come back in." "I didn't see any tracks." "You didn't look close enough. There were tracks, most of them wiped out and with leaves scattered over. Back in the brush a few steps I found some--woman's tracks." "That sounds like Logan. He never got himself in trouble yet there wasn't some woman tryin' to get him out of it." There was grass enough to keep the cattle happy, and we settled down to study what lay ahead of us. During the night, there could well be an attack. We had been warned in about the worst way, and we knew they would not hesitate to kill.

The worst of it was that we did not know what was at stake except that Logan Sackett was somehow involved.

My night horse was fresh, and I shifted the saddle. Right now I wasn't sure whether I'd ride or walk, and I was thinking the last way might be best. Usually, I carried some moccasins in my outfit, and they were handy today.

Tyrel and Orrin stood with me at the last.

"We'll handle things here. If there's shootin', don't worry yourself. We'll hold the fort." Baptiste came to me. "A long time back there is a path down the mountain." He drew it in the dust. "The old fort is gone--only some stones here. This is grass. There is the river. I do not know what is here.

"The smokes--is ver' much smoke. Two, three fires, maybe." He hesitated. "A man who was at the fort, he tell me they find gold. Maybe--" That could be the answer. But why threaten Logan with hanging? Why did he need cattle? Who was trying to prevent our arrival?

When darkness came, there were stars over the Cassiar Mountains, and I found Baptiste's trail and went down quietly to the water and crossed to the point where the old fort had stood. Some of the snow had melted, but there were patches which I avoided, not wanting to outline myself against the white or to leave tracks that could be found.

A straight dark line against the sky told me a building was there.

Where would Logan be? If I could find Logan, he could explain it all. Slowly, taking infinite care, I circled the area at the edge of the woods. I found a sluice, heard a rustle of running water in it. Somebody had been placering for gold.

A tent, and another tent. A canvas-walled house, a shedlike place, a log cabin with light shining from some cracks. A dug-out door with a bar across the outside--the outside?

For a moment, I held still in the shadows. Now why a bar across a door from the outside?

Obviously not to keep anybody from getting in, so it must be to keep somebody from getting out.

Logan?

Maybe. There was a larger log cabin close by and light from a window made of old bottles, a window I could not see in, and nobody inside could see out. Beyond it, there was a corral. Easing along in the shadows, I counted at least twelve horses, and there were probably more.

There was a building with a porch in front of it, steps leading up to the door, and no light at all. It could be a store. In all, there were not more than five or six structures and a scattering of tents and lean-tos.

Nobody was moving around, and there seemed to be no dogs, or my presence would have been discovered.

A door of a cabin opened, and a woman stood revealed in the door, a light behind her. She stood there for several minutes, and the night wind stirred her skirt. She brushed back a wisp of hair and went back inside, leaving the door open.

There was a fireplace in view, a homemade chair, a table, and some firewood piled by the fireplace. Suddenly,

she came to the door again singing softly, "Bold, brave and undaunted ..." "Rode young Brennan on the moor!" I finished the line for her.

She ceased singing, swept off the door step, and then she spoke softly. "I shall lower the light and leave the door ajar." She took a few more brushes with the broom, then stepped back inside and partly closed the door; then she lowered the light.

I hesitated. It might be a trap, but "Brennan on the Moor," about an Irish highwayman, was a favorite song of Logan's, and mine, for that matter.

I crossed the open space swiftly, flattened against the wall of the cabin to look and listen; then, silent as a ghost, I slipped inside.

She was waiting for me, her back to the table, her eyes wide. A surprisingly pretty girl with a firm chin and a straight, honest look to her.

"You will be William Tell," she said.

"I am." "He described you to me, and Tyrel and Orrin as well. Even Lando, for we did not know who would come. He promised me that somebody would.

I could not believe it." "Three of us came, with some friends." "I heard." There was something ironic in her voice. "I heard that you did not come alone." "There's a girl with us who is looking for her brother, Douglas Molrone." "He is here." "Here?" "Of course." "And Logan?" "He's here. He's getting over a broken leg. It should be almost healed by now, but I think he's prolonging it." "If you are his nurse, I can understand why." "He has no nurse. They permit no one near him." "Who," I asked, "are "they"?" "There's gold here. Quite a lot of it, we believe. Some of us began finding it, first just a little, then more. We built a cabin or two and settled down to work.

"Then those others came. They saw what we were doing, and then they began to go to the store for supplies. At first, they bought a little as we did, then they returned for more. Nobody thought anything of it until my father went in to the store and found they had sold out. Everything was gone.

"John Fentrell, the storekeeper, sent a man out for supplies. He did not return.

"Then Logan Sackett came along. He came down the river in a canoe and tried to buy supplies at the store. Then he tried to buy from us, but we were down to almost nothing.

"He found out what had happened, and he offered to drive in a herd of beef cattle for us. He collected money from us, all we had. We managed to kill a little game, and we waited.

"Apparently, he had known of a small herd that had been driven part way here. Actually, I think the drover was headed for Barkerville and got hung up somewhere inland.

"Logan said he bought the herd from him and started back here. His men deserted him, but he kept on; then his cattle were stampeded, and his leg was broken." "We got word somebody wanted to hang him." "Some of us did. We thought he had taken our money and tried to get away with it. Some of us did not believe there had ever been any herd. Some of us thought he had lied. He promised us that if he could get a message out, he'd get cattle here before snow fell. There wasn't much else we could do, so we sent his message, and we've waited." "Did you believe him?" "Sort of. We sent a man out for supplies, and he got back, traveling at night with a canoe. He was going again, but his canoe was stolen.

"All the time those other men just loafed around, eating very well and just waiting. They mined very little and cut just enough wood for themselves and waited for us to starve.

"The man they called Cougar taunted us. He said if we were smart, we'd get out while we could, that Logan had lied and there was no herd. He said even if there was, there was no way cattle could reach us.

"They brought in more supplies, but they would sell none of them, and every man we sent out either failed to come back or had his supplies stolen.

"They wanted the gold for themselves, all of it, and they were trying to force us out. We put some fish traps in the river, Indian style, and that helped until they discovered what we were doing. They destroyed our traps as fast as we built them." "How many of you are there?" "Eight. There are four men and three women." She paused. "And there's a boy. Danny is about ten." "And them?" "There was just five of them. Now there are at least a dozen. Two of them were gone for quite a while, and when they came back, there were some other men with them. The two who left were George and Perry Stamper." "We've met them." He was listening. Several times he thought he heard faint sounds outside. He glanced at her. How far could he trust her? Was she one of them?

"Can you put names to the others?" he asked.

"Shanty's their leader, or he seems to be.

That's Shanty Gavin. Then there's Doug Molrone--" "He's one of them?" "Yes, he is. He was one of the first ones.

He came in with Shanty and the Stampers and that man Cougar. Oh, it's simple enough! If we leave, they will simply take over all the claims and have the gold to themselves! All they want to do is starve us out so we have to leave. Then they can say we abandoned the claims." "Mind sitting in the dark?" "What? Oh? No, not really. If you mean am I afraid of you, I'm not. Not in the least.

I'm not afraid of any man." "Put the light out, will you? There'll be the glow from the fireplace." She glanced at me, then blew out the light.

"Did you hear something?" "I thought I did." The fire had died to red coals. I liked the glow of it on her face. Her hair was dark, as were her eyes, and her skin deeply tanned.

"Where is your father?" "He went away. He went overland to try to find supplies. He has not returned." "You know who I am," I suggested.

She hesitated, then turned her eyes to me.

"I am Laurie Gavin," she said.

Chapter
XXV

"Gavin?" "Shanty is my stepbrother," she explained.

"And Kyle?" Surprised, she looked around at me. "What do you know of Kyle? But how could you know him? He is in Toronto!" "He is on his way here, I believe." "Kyle is my brother. My real brother." I drew my gun. "Someone is coming, I think. Are you afraid?" "Of course. I know them. On the surface, they are very quiet, very smooth, very soft-spoken, but do not trust them, William Tell Sackett, for they lie, and they will kill." "Shanty, too?" "He is the worst of them. Remember this. He is no blood brother of mine. My father married his mother, and he took our name. He preferred it to Stamper." I returned the gun to its holster. There was a tap on the door. She glanced at me, and I said, "Answer it." She went to the door. "Yes?" she said.

"Open the door, Laurie. You've a man in there we want." She opened it, and Cougar and another, larger, more powerful man with a shock of blond hair stepped in.

"I am Tell Sackett," I said. "Are you looking for me?" Cougar stepped aside. "Be careful, Shanty. This one's tough." "Knowing that," I said, "might save us all some trouble." Shanty had a nice smile. "But we've got you," he said. "There's no way you can get away." I smiled back at him. "Then take me," I said. "I'm here." Shanty hesitated. It worried him that I was not afraid, and he was a cautious man. I did not doubt his courage, but there is a time to be brave and a time not to be a damned fool.