“Barkeep!” Joshua said not looking. “You have law in this town?”
“No, sir, none,” the bartender replied.
Joshua held his gun on Carroll, saying, “Where do I find Jeeter McMahon?”
“Lookout Mountain. You can see it as you ride down the valley north,” Ruddy Cheeks said, now very nervous hearing there was no law around and knowing Joshua would want to get going.
He was certain Joshua would plug him.
Joshua said, “When you drive down Road Gulch Stage Road, is it that rocky outcropping sticking off on the north side of the road?”
“Yes, sir,” Carroll said. “They got a hideout somewhere on the backside, but I don't know where. His brother was going with him, but they talked about splitting up then.”
Strongheart said, “Pick up your gun and holster it.”
Carefully, very gingerly, Carroll did so.
Joshua spun his pistol back into his holster and said, “You sure you want to do this?”
Ruddy Cheeks chuckled and said, “Partner, I never found nobody yet who can beat me.”
Strongheart smiled and said softly, “Yes, you have. You might beat me, but you will have to put all six shots in me, reload, and shoot some more before I'll go down.”
He was simply posturing to unnerve his opponent, and it worked. His words sent a chill down the outlaw's spine, and he drew too early, clawing for his pistol in panic. It was out, cocked, and coming up, when he felt something slam into his chest and his eyes came up automatically to see the flame from Joshua's muzzle blast, as he felt the second bullet slam into his chest, tear through, and take away half of his right shoulder before it passed out his back. He tasted blood and started feeling weak, but did not understand the reason. It felt like the building had been picked up and spun around in fast circles, but he did not know why. Suddenly, his knees felt like they could not hold his legs up anymore, and he sat down in place. He tasted more blood and realized it was pouring out of his mouth, and then it dawned on him that he was dying. He panicked and wanted to scream, but nothing would come out; he was drowning in his own blood, and it made him gag. He died that way, sitting down, his back against the wall and arms hanging down at his side.
Joshua started for the door, and the bartender said, “Hey, who's gonna take care of him?”
Joshua glared at him. “You are. And if I hear of you speaking that way about any of my red brothers again, I will come back and finish what I started. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” the man said. “What is your name, mister?”
“Joshua Strongheart.”
The tall half-breed strolled out the door and went directly to his horse, mounted up and headed back the way he had just come. Now, though, when he was just a few miles out of town, he headed right up a pine-lined gulch called Reed Gulch. He rode several miles seeing many harems of elk, flocks of wild turkeys, and herds of mule deer. There seemed to be ample graze, cover, and water in this gulch. He almost came out eventually on Copper Gulch Stage Road, well west of where he had originally turned off on Road Gulch Road. Joshua could have turned right on Copper Gulch Stage Road a few miles earlier, but he was looking for a cross-country shortcut to Lookout Mountain, and he found it right before actually arriving at the stage road. He would angle to his left front and pass to the left of the long ridge before him. He was actually on the reverse side of the tree-covered ridge he had seen in the giant flat meadow when he first turned onto Road Gulch Road, when there had been lots of deer at its base. The locals actually called it Deer Mountain.
Strongheart realized Lookout Mountain had to be called that for a reason, so people must have been able to look out easily in every direction and see anybody coming. He remembered the ridge and the terrain and figured that ridge with the deer at the base, Deer Mountain, to be something that would block his view in between Lookout Mountain and his travel. He also remembered patches of trees in the giant mountain meadow, and figured he could ride between them quickly without exposing himself to view too much. Maybe he would even make camp and travel after dark, so he would not be observed from the tall, rocky peak.
It did not take Joshua too long to reach the end of the ridge, and he was able to move through several draws, where one patch of trees led to another. Through the holes in the trees he was able to see the high, rocky sentinel sticking up into the sky. Joshua had already done a lot of traveling that day, and it was now late afternoon. He decided to camp before he got too close, where his campfire might be smelled and the light of the fire might be seen.
In this country, wise horsemen always took note of water and shelter. Strongheart recalled his ride down Road Gulch Road and remembered seeing a little side gulch running up toward Lookout Mountain. There was a lot of green, and he saw birds flying in and out of it as he traveled by. This told him there was probably a spring at the head of it. He made the road without being spotted, turned left, and headed downhill for a couple miles, until he spotted the small side gulch to the right. He headed up and within a half mile found a small spring and a little tank, where his horse could drink his fill. It was well protected by a higher ridge, trees to break up the smoke from his fire, good areas to observe anybody headed his direction, and good graze for Gabe around the spring. He would make camp early, eat well, and get plenty of sleep, allowing his wounds to heal even more. He was tired and very sore, but oddly feeling stronger at the same time.
It was false dawn when Joshua climbed into the saddle. He reasoned that he could go up over the ridge and hopefully would come out at the far end of the giant mountain meadow, which actually ran about halfway up the eastern side of Lookout Mountain. The western, northern, and southern sides were rocky and more straight up and down. An hour later, Joshua found himself riding through rocks and a small mining trail which ran from the long meadow out onto a fingerlike ridge coming off Lookout. He was now on the northern side of that ridge, which had the most cover, too. Every other direction would have forced him to abandon his horse.
Jeeter McMahon's brother, Harlance, had left the day before. He told his brother he did not hanker to spend all his time in some rocky hideout watching for posses, lawmen, or bounty hunters. He was going to head for southwestern Colorado Territory and spend some time near Animas City looking for gold. His brother thought he was crazy, but Harlance explained about what was happening there and encouraged his brother to go with him. The area would in less than a decade host the new gold-smelting town of Durango.
Over whiskey-laced coffee two nights before Strongheart arrived on the scene, Harlance told Jeeter about the area. Southwest Colorado was not a place many white men ventured into because of the southern Utes and mountain Utes. But, Harlance explained, the brand-new Brunot Treaty of 1873 removed the Utes from the mountains and opened up the area for prospectors, and much placer mining was done, and finally full-scale mining. This meant a settlement of surrounding businesses, such as saloons, brothels, an assay office, and normal retail businesses to support the mining, was created. Mountain towns were springing up in the San Juans, like Telluride, Silverton, Rico, and Ophir. Animas City was a little north of what would become Durango, and Animas City would eventually disappear. The railroad was not there yet, and the area was wild, with many prospectors and mining engineers starting to flood into it. What was ironic was that the Cripple Creek and Victor areas not too far from Lookout Mountain were where Colorado's richest gold strikes would be, as well as Westcliffe and nearby Silver Cliff, an area where Joshua Strongheart had ridden to and from all in a day's time.
Harlance was not that enthused about actually prospecting; he was thinking more about the remoteness of southwestern Colorado Territory and all the women and alcohol being shipped in there, as well as many possible holdup victims, miners with bags of gold dust, and, of course, those brothels.
To that end, he also talked his brother into giving him the beautiful antique wedding ring of Annabelle's, in case he met somebody “special” at one of the bawdy houses or saloons around Animas City or any of the other towns.
Now Jeeter was alone in his hideout which was in the rocks high up near the peak. There was a natural cave formed by an overhanging rock that had fallen decades earlier on three different rock outcroppings. He had shelter from rain and sun and could watch a wide area, especially to the west, since he had come that general direction from Cotopaxi. There were two drawbacks. He had to keep his horse picketed far below, on the northern side of the peak, where there was a small spring in the rocks and piñons, and some grass, and he then had quite a climb to his hideout. He also had to go all the way down to that spring to get his water, but to him it was worth it. He felt safer and more secure when he knew he could see in three directions over a wide area.
There were also numerous deer and elk all over the sandy piñion- and cedar-covered foothills surrounding him. There were plenty of mountain lions, too, so he could find lion kills as he scouted around, and he would take the carcasses from their kill sites without firing a shot. Mountain lions were very finicky eaters and would leave a deer carcass for other predators when the meat had gotten the least little bit tainted. They would also eat the intestines of a deer first, and twice Jeeter found fresh kills with both the front and hindquarters of the deer intact. In both cases, the lions were lying on nearby ledges overlooking the kill, but they would not attack a human. It was just not something cougars would normally do, unless one was starving or had come upon a small child alone. They were too shy, and they were usually nocturnal anyway.
Strongheart got Gabriel under a large rock ledge, so the sun would not be on him, and dropped the reins. The horse stood calmly in the shadows. He removed his spurs and boots and grabbed a pair of soft-soled Lakota moccasins from his saddlebags and put them on. He grabbed his Henry carbine and slowly, quietly moved into the rocks, angling himself up higher toward the peak.
A half hour later, he quietly emerged from the rocks close to the peak and saw that he was looking down into a jumble of rocks making a natural fortress. There were tracks from Jeeter and Harlance all over the soft, sandy ground. Jeeter suddenly appeared below him with something in his hand. It was some paper. He looked out over the valley then disappeared back under the overhanging rock. Joshua did not move, and seconds later, Jeeter reappeared to Strongheart's right front. He was completely naked but wearing Joshua's gun belt, holster, and weapons. Strongheart raised the rifle and settled the sights on Jeeter's spine, halfway up his back, and then he lowered his rifle. The man was going to a spot partway down the ridge from his hideout, apparently his bathroom. Joshua shook his head and quietly chuckled at the sight of the naked armed man striding away from the rocks.
Joshua quickly and silently backed up away from the edge. He moved like a cougar himself down the rocks and slipped into Jeeter's hideout. He had shelter, food, and a campfire and had made himself a nice evergreen bough bed, and there were excellent fields of fire and vision in almost every direction. He even had spaces between large rocks from which he could easily observe or shoot anybody approaching from the blind side of the mountain, along the base of the steep rock. If Joshua had tried coming that way, he would have been easily bushwhacked. Like many people and animals, though, Jeeter had failed to watch for danger from above.
Joshua poured himself a cup of coffee and found it to be strong, fresh, and very hot, just the way that he liked it. His standard request was that anybody making him coffee should grab a small rock and set it on the brewing coffee, and when it floats the coffee is ready.
Quickly looking through Jeeter's things, he found his money belt, and the letter was inside. He checked to insure that Jeeter was not at hand, then lowered his drawers, strapped the belt around his waist, and cinched his gun belt back up.
None of his wounds were hurting right now, because of adrenaline, but Strongheart still was a long ways from having all his strength back. He sat down and waited a couple minutes, and soon he heard Jeeter whistling a tune as he made his way up the path to the hideout. Naked but for the gunbelt, Jeeter strode into the cave and froze at the sight of a grinning Joshua Strongheart, bandaged all over, a pistol in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
With a thick accent, Jeeter finally spoke. “What you doin' heah, ya damned blanket nigger?”
Strongheart smiled, saying, “I gave my word to my mother on her deathbed I would never give away or sell my rig that you are wearing.”
Jeeter shook his head, saying, “You come after me wounded up bad to get back yer gun and knife?”
Strongheart said, “And the wedding ring you took, and I got my money belt. Why did you still have the letter?”
Jeeter spat some brown tobacco juice out. “Wal, I reckoned I would sell it ta the highest bidder. If ya was a man and let me make a play, then after I kill ya, I would go do jest that.”
“Well,” Joshua replied, “we don't have to worry about that.”
“What, letting me ta make a play? I figgered as much.”
Strongheart said, “Where is the ring?”
Jeeter said, “The hell with ya. I give it ta one a mah gang, and I ain't telling' ya nothin' else.”
Strongheart said, “Well, I have already killed about half your gang, and I will hunt the rest down until I find that wedding ring. So you won't tell me where your brother or the rest are?”
“Hell, no. Why would ya spend time lookin' for a damned ole ring?”
Strongheart said, “Because I gave my word.”