Authors: John Thomas Edson
Not for a moment did Slaughter believe that Hernandez had put the man up to diis play, or even knew it was happening. The bandido knew his only hope of making any money out of the herd was to keep its trail boss ahve. If Slaughter died, his men woidd charge head down and come shooting. There was no profit in IdUing for killing's sake, and Hernandez was smart enough to figure that.
"A ver' fine horse,** the bandido went on. ''Much like a gringo stole from me. I think it is the same one and will take it back."
''Man should always do what he reckons is right,'* Slaughter replied. "But that's my horse."
"You hear that, amigosP" the bandido sneered, tum-123
ing slightly to face his watching cronies. He turned so that Slaughter could not see the hilt of the knife. 'The gringo steals my horse and then— ''
Suddenly he turned, holding the knife ready to throw. He had only half a second left to Uve.
As fast as the strike of a copperhead snake, Slaughter s hand dropped, closed on the ivory butt of his Colt and raised again. His move was just as swift and the result as deadly as the attack of Ancistrodon Mokasen, the deadly, silent striking copperhead.
Before the bandido's ri^t arm rose far enough for him to start making the forward svmig. Slaughter s Colt lined waist-high and roared. At twenty feet die rancher did not need to raise his weapon and shot by instinctive alignment instead of using sights. The bullet caught the bandido in the forehead, throwing him over backwards. He was dead before his body hit the groimd.
Snarls of rage left the mouths of the watching men, some half-a-dozen of the gang, and they started reaching toward their weapons, hands going to knife hilts rather than revolvers for the bandido was a user of cold steel rather than a gunfighter.
Even as Slaughter thimib-cocked his Colt and prepared to take as many of the Mexicans with him as he could, Hernandez turned and sprang forward, an expression of rage on his face.
"'Backl" he roared, crashing through the group of men and scattering them aside as if they were not there.
Slowly the group of men drew back. The other members of the gang came from wherever they had been and formed up at one side of the group. It seemed the men who had followed Slaughter formed some kind of clique, possibly they objected to Hernandez's leadership. One thing was for siu-e, they did not intend making anything of his treatment when he came through their midst.
'The gringo killed SanchezI'' one of the group said sullenly.
"Sanchez was always a fool," Hernandez rephed, contemptuously kicking the knife from by the dead man's body. **Now he is a dead fool and less use than
in life, if that is possible. The Tejano came here at my invitation and he leaves unharmed/'
For a moment Slaughter thought the men v^ould object. He had bolstered his Colt on Hernandez's arrival, so as not to embarrass the gang leader or give the other bandidos an excuse to shoot him. Standing tense and ready. Slaughter watched Hernandez face dovra his men. Give him his due, the tall, slim Mexican had sand to bum and he cowed that sullen group before him without drawing his gun, raising his voice or using threats.
Clearly the group would have liked nothing better than to kill Hernandez for his interference. Yet they knew the other members of the gang would back their leader. So would the Texan; and they had already seen how he could handle a gun.
*Take this carrion from the camp, you who are its friends," Hernandez ordered. "And as you are his friends, you alone may share his belongings."
Nothing could have ended the aflFair quite so quickly and peacefully. The men who formed the dead Sanchez's clique turned, forgetting their hatred of their leader and desire to kill the Tejano who'd shot their ami-go. With one accord, they headed for the tent they shared to start the division of property.
*That, senoT, is that," Hernandez remarked, turning to Slaughter. "I would apologize for this incident, but you handled things yourself. You are fast, my friend, very fast, but not, I think, as fast as I."
"Noper
^'No."
^Tfou wouldn't want to put it to the test?" asked Slaughter. "If I win, the herd waters free."
For a moment the Texan thought he had Hernandez. Clearly the man was interested in the proposition. Slaughter saw that in the way Hernandez studied the low-hanging ivory-butted Colt he wore.
""An interesting suggestion, my friend, and a challenging one. But I have my honor to think about. Even should you be fortunate enough to vvdn, these pigs I am forced to work with would not keep any agreement.
Much as I regret the words, especially as you have ridded me of Sanchez, who was an ambitious man and one with his eye on the leadership of my band, I am afraid it is pay or no water for your cattle. I cannot withdraw from my stand. Nor would I, for that is bad business and above all I am a businessman. Think well on my words."
Slaughter thought on Hernandez's words all the time as he rode back to his herd. Night had fallen when Slaughter returned. The cattle were bedded down under a six-man guard, and Alvord rode a wide circle on the alert for Mexican treachery.
On his way to the camp Slaughter met his scout, who showed relief to see his boss back safe and sound. The two men rode toward where a fire showed the site of the camp. Slaughter knew Hernandez's men would not trouble the cattle at night. In their position they did not need to go to so much extra trouble.
Leaving their horses at the remuda. Slaughter and Alvord walked into camp. Only Burton and Coonsldn were not in their blankets when their boss returned. With a six-man night herd, all the hands would take a spell before dawn and so they were catching what sleep they could while there was a chance.
''Stands this way, as I see it," Burton remarked when he heard of Hernandez's ultimatum. "WeVe done got to get these cattle to water, or they'll start dying off like flies in winter, 'cause they can't go much further bone dry. So it's water at Central Springs, or leave behind a tolerable slew of dead cows as buzzard bait afore we reach the Came River."
Which puts matters just about as plain as anyone could ask for.
"You couldn't pay him off?" asked Alvord, looking at his boss. 'Then we'd take him and his bunch after the herd's watered."
"I don't have anywhere near that much money along."
Coonsldn served out cups of coffee and hstened to all the other men said.
As usual when involved in a dangerous or serious situation, the coolers eyes stuck out like twin billiard balls. He shoved back the coonskin cap which gave him his name, scratched his head in a thoughtful manner, then said: "Iffen me, Mr. Earp n Betsy Two-Eyes could get down there amongst them ornery critters, we'd sure enough soon talk some sense into 'em/'
Coming to his feet. Slaughter looked first at the cook, then toward the two white-covered wagons flanking his camp. None of the others spoke, but they all tensed expectantly, for they knew their boss of old.
"How close did you say that Yaqui scout came to us, Burt?" Slaughter asked.
"Not nearer 'n a mile to me, and I was a mile or more beyond the herd."
"That's what I thought. Coonskin, go dig out that pot of paint you bought to fancy up the chuck wagon. Let's get working, it's going to be a long, hard night."
"A farmer's dawg done come to town. His given name was Bix, He didn t have no pedigree, But right smart was his tricks. And as he trotted down the street, 'Twas beautiful to see. His work on every comer post, And his sign on every tree."
So sang Coonskin as he drove his four-mule wagon in an easterly direction towards Central Springs. Yet it was not the Coonskin who served meals, made jokes and offered sage advice aroimd the trail campfire. His cap had been dusted out until the fur almost shone in the sun. The white apron and flour-spotted clothing had been changed for a frock coat, boiled shirt front and black bow tie.
"He watered every gateway too. And he never missed a post, For piddling was his specialty.
And piddling was his boast.
Them city dawgs watched him amazed.
Got in a right smart rage.
To see that lop-eared hound critter,
The top piddler of the age.'*
Hernandez walked toward the approaching wagon, studying it with calculating eyes, and alert for any sign of trickery.
"I thought the Tejano would try something last night,'' he said to the man who brought word of the wagon s approach.
'What could he do?" replied the other. "This is a medicine-show wagon.**
From the angle at which the wagon approached, the words, *T)OCTOR COONSKIN, VOODOO CURE-ALL" in large black letters, showed on its white top. From the wagon's appearance and the look of its driver, it was one of those outfits that toiured the range country giving entertainment and peddling miraculous cures to the unsuspecting. One did not often see a Negro running such an outfit, but Hernandez did not exercise racial discrimination in his robbing. A plump, well-padded Negro's money had the same spending value as a lean, rich white man's.
Watching the Mexicans gather before him. Coon-skin decided that they were about the most evil bunch of fellers he had ever seen; and working on the principle, even though he had never heard of it, that music soothes the savage breast, he gave out with yet another verse of his song:
"Then dawgs just come from everywhere. All running with a yell. To sniflE that lop-eared hound dawg o'er. And judge him by his smell. Some of them thought that he might have Beneath his tail a rose. So every city dawg come up. And sniflEed it with his nose." 128
'The Negro sings well,'' Hernandez remarked. ^'He may entertain ns when he pays for his water," one of the men suggested,
*They smelled him over one by one, And tried it two by two. That there ole Bix, his head held high. Stood still till they was through. Then to show the whole she-bang. He didn t care a danm, He went into the general store, And piddled on a ham.''
*T sure hopes they likes my singing," Coonsldn thought. "Them critters look like they d cut my throat as soon as look at me."
**He piddled on the cracker barrel. Did some more on the floor, Then as the clerk done kicked him out, He piddled through the door. Behind him all them city dawgs Lined up so tried and true. To start a piddling carnival, And see the stranger through.'*
Long before Coonsldn reached the end of his song, he had come so close to the group of waiting men that he stopped singing and raised his hat politely. Every eye was on him, and even the crew of the Catling gun turned to look in his direction. Coonskin halted his team and replaced his hat.
"Howdy, gents," Coonskin greeted. "Just dropped in to water my knobheads."
"It wiU cost you five dollars a mule," Hernandez replied.
"Mostly it's me as gets paid for entertaining, sir," Coonskin pointed out.
^TThis isn't entertainment, it's water for your mules."
"I never argues with a gent as is bigger, can run fast, or's got more friends on hand than I has, sir."
On delivering the piece of wisdom, Coonsldn dipped his left hand into his jacket pocket, took out a double eagle and tossed it to Hernandez. In the same move, the Negro flicked his mules with the reins and they started to move forward, making toward the camp and the Catling gun.
^'One minute!**
The words cracked out Hke the pop of a bullwhip from Hernandez's hps and Coonsldn brought his team to a halt again. He had not expected to be allowed right into tiie camp, but at least had made a few more yards toward the gun.
**How many people are with your^ asked Hernandez.
^7ust me, sir.''
*Tliat is a large wagon for just you.'*
"I does some trading, sir. Got my gear in the back."
Most of the men stood aroimd in a loose half-circle before the wagon, with Hernandez at the mules' heads, blocking their path.
*'Check on it, some of you!'* he ordered.
*Do as you likes, gennelmen," Coonsldn remarked obligingly. '"Only don't you-all go damaging any of them things I done got trading from my Voodoo Cure-All."
The words drew every one of the bandidos past their leader and toward the rear of the wagon. A chance of loot would cause any Mexican bandidos to gather Hke flies around a jam pot, and Hernandez's bimch were no different from the rest. Cathering around at the rear of the wagon, the men pushed and jostled to get up front and have first dip into whatever die vehicle contained. Two of their number grabbed hold of the covers hanging at the rear and hiding the inside of the wagon from view, then jerked them aside.
Which proved to be unfortunate for them as they disturbed Mr, Elarp as the skunk rested on top of a barrel at the rear of the wagon.
In all the world there are few creatures large or small better equipped to deal with things that offend them as is the American skimk. Mr. Earp was no ex-
ception to the rule and, although a pet, stiH retained his large anal glands packed full of their evil-smelling, oily secretion.
Coonskin had reared Mr. Earp from a baby, and the skunk behaved himself around human beings most times. But not when himaan beings were strangers and burst in upon him unannounced in such a manner. Coming to his feet, Mr. Earp raised his tail and cut loose on all and sundry with the skill of Miss Annie Oakley punching holes in the center of a target.
At ranges of up to three yards, Mr. Earp could hit his mark with precision, and spray his defense aroimd like a shotgun's charge. The moment he cut free his discharge all was confusion around the rear of the wagon. Men yelled, cursed, gagged and spluttered, staggering back from the rear of the wagon and losing all Qieir interest in loot.
None of the men had been able to take a good look into the rear of the wagon. If they had, all they would have seen was a line of supply boxes and the barrel on which Mr. Earp had slept in comfort. The skunk, after venting his objections on the men who disturbed his sleep, dropped from his place and trotted forward, meaning to join his master. Passing between two of the boxes, he ignored the three men crouching behind them. Having emptied out his glands on the invaders of his privacy, Mr. Earp followed his namesake's rule for when danger threatened, by getting to where a friend could defend him.