Nightfall and thirty some miles later found me atop a hill looking down at the lights of a town. It was small and dirty and dusty, but by God it was a town and it had been two months since I had seen one… or a white man. Most of all, I wanted me a hot bath and a shave.
Clucking to my horse we started down the long hill towards the few lights flickering below. I could hear a roaring way out ahead of me and it took me a couple minutes before I realized it was a stream coming down from the high country. You could see the white of it in the moonlight as it raced down the mountain. I saw a corral along the right side of the street with a light shining within the building beside it. I stepped down and leaned against my horse for a second, as dizziness swept over me... Across the street was a long, low building with a few horses standing hipshot at the rail. It looked like a hundred other saloons I had seen as I crossed this country from Tennessee to this Wyoming land.
I turned and entered the old barn. Looking to the left I saw an old man nodding in a chair. He sat in the shadows not moving. I cleared my throat and his voice came out of the dark. “What can I do for you stranger?”
“I need to put up a couple horses for the night, you have room?”
“Got plenty of room, since the mines slowed down so much, pick out a couple stalls and set them in. Be a dollar for room and board by the day or five dollars a week, includes hay and one bait of grain a day.” I felt that was a little steep, but I was tired and so were my horses.
He looked shrewdly at me and the pony when we came into the lantern light. Got yourself a Blackfoot, huh? They don’t usually come up this way...”
“No, it was down closer to the flats where they ambushed me. There’s one buck that won’t be lifting any more hair though.”
“Looks like they got some iron in you, eh?”
I shook my head wearily and said,” Any place to get a real bed and some hot grub around here?”
“Only place this late is the saloon across the street, might be some coffee and sandwiches left.”
“I could eat a bear from the inside out, the way I feel.”
“They have rooms upstairs for rent too, they ain’t much but they’ll keep the rain offen you.”
I walked slowly across the street, looking at the brands on the horses standing there. I didn’t recognize any of them, but then I hadn’t been in this country all that long either. There were four side by side wearing a leaning bar eight, and off to their side stood a mule with a Teepee brand, the like I had never seen before.
I stepped through the bar doors and walked slowly into the room, looking carefully as I went. On the right was the bar, a long affair with a brass rail along the bottom and spittoons at regular intervals. An old ornate mirror hung on the wall behind the bar. I wondered idly how they had ever got that big thing here in one piece. The light wasn’t the best, with three old chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, fuel oil sputtering at irregular intervals. A big old black stove stood in one corner, giving off heat I could feel clean over where I was. On my left sat three riders playing stud poker with a greasy deck. I wondered where the fourth rider was and movement caught my eye towards the back and I saw him sitting alone at a table, nursing a glass of whiskey.
The bartender asked,” what’ll you have mister?”
“Rye?” I answered. He reached down and brought out a bottle and poured me a drink. I held it for a minute, looking at the light shining through it, then took a sip. “What are the chances for a bite to eat and maybe some hot coffee? Oh, and the hostler across the street said I might could get a room for the night too?”
“I got some cold beef left over from supper and the pot is always on back in the kitchen He answered. You just stand tight and I’ll bring it right out.”
As I stood there leaning against the bar a wave of weariness washed suddenly over me. I was tired and my head hurt something fierce. All I wanted was to get some coffee and grub on the inside of me and hit that bed for about twelve hours. The bartender brought out a big plate with two of the biggest sandwiches I had ever seen in one hand, and a huge blackened coffee pot in the other. The smell of the two together made my knees weak. I didn’t even get to a table, I just stood there shaking slightly and wolfed down those sandwiches like I hadn’t eaten in days. Come to think of it, I hadn’t. I was on my second cup of coffee when I became aware I was being scrutinized closely by the punchers at the table. I heard a throat clearing in the darkness by the other table where the one man sat alone.
The bartender said, “My name is O’Keefe stranger and I’ve owned this place the last couple years.” “I tried my hand at panning and placer mining like the rest of them, but all I got were chapped hands and cold feet. Finally, the old guy who owned this place before me got tired of it all and sold it to me for a good price. I ain’t getting rich, but I make do and I’ve been warm all winter, more than I can say for those punchers there and the few hangers on that still believe they’ll strike it rich if they just stay at it long enough.”
A slight movement to my left caught my attention and looking carefully there I saw an old man sitting hunched over a glass of beer. His dark old eyes gleamed shrewdly at me for a second and I saw him shake his head slightly.
The puncher by himself cleared his throat again and said loudly,” Well look what the cat dragged in.”
I smiled a little and cheerfully agreed, “I reckon I do look a sight, but I been over the mountain and down the other side, and it’s been a spell since I could relax a little. I been watching my back trail the last day for a bunch of Blackfoot that has been hunting me. I do believe I’ve left them down below, though.”
“Ida took you for a squaw man by the looks of you and the way you smell,” he said with a faint sneer.
“Well, I said, I’ve known some Indians in my time and good folks they were too.”
He was dressed better than his partners and from where I sat I could see he was wearing two guns. Now I’m not a suspicious man, but I’ve learned that most men who carry two guns do so out of a misplaced notion that it makes them seem bad .Or, that men will respect them and fear them more than others, although I have seen a few that can handle both guns with the same skill. It is a rare talent though, and one that has to be worked at almost daily.
The coffee was just how I liked it, black and strong enough to float a horseshoe, or melt it down. I was starting to feel some better and was still looking forward to that hot bath and bed. But, I had been in many a bar in my time and had learned to read men pretty well. This one fancied his self a bad man and was just chomping at the bit to prove it. I wanted none of it, none at all
I turned back to the bartender and was set to ask him if he had heard anything of our Pa, when I heard him push his chair back and stand up. One of the other punchers at the left table moved slightly and I saw him pull his belt around closer to his side. I wasn’t wishful of getting shot from two sides and stepped a little to my left, kinda innocent like. This put them both in my line of sight. The bartender looked at me closely as he moved in and refilled my cup. “Watch them Kerrigan, I’m from the olde country myself and they’re a bad bunch.
When the big one heard my name he stepped suddenly into the light, and I saw the black and white cowhide vest he was wearing, along with the two colts at his sides. The air seemed to thicken and I could feel the anger building in me and feared it. For when the fighting rage was upon me, I swear I almost enjoyed it.
I didn’t like the killing, but the idea of two strong men going up against one another had always held a strange fascination for me.
The other two at the table on the left put their hands carefully on the top and left them there. The big one smiled nastily and said to his partner,” Becker, what do you think we should do with this stinkin squaw man?”
He answered; I think we should show him his kind ain’t wanted around here.”
The bartender said,” Come on now boys, let’s not have any trouble here, I run a peaceful place and Curly, you know the boss warned you about causing any more trouble. He said he ain’t paying for no more busted up bars or any more funerals.”
“I’ll pay for this one O’Keefe; it won’t take long and funerals are cheap.”
O’Keefe said-“Well two against one ain’t exactly what you call a fair fight, now is it.”?
Curly answered, “Becker is just here to witness it was a fair fight.”
I knew how this worked and had seen it before. It was the first time I had it used on me though, and I was still uncertain why it had come to this, so fast. One or the other would make a move towards his gun and then I would be caught in the crossfire.
I had it figured to take out Curly first, as he was sure to be the fastest. Becker would shoot too, but I knew my worst danger was this tall, brash young cowboy in front of me.
“I don’t know what your problem is mister, but I want none of it. How about I buy you all a drink and we’ll call it even?”
Something moved far back in those black eyes of his and I thought for a second he was going to buy it. But, it was not to be.
I had my mind made up I was gonna’ take some lead, But others had done it before and I reckoned l could too. I smiled a little at this; they must have thought I had lost my mind. I sighed inwardly and became entirely focused on what lay before me. The stillness in me was cold and stark. I wasn’t wishful of killing, but I was even less wishful of dying.
I had a lot left to do.
The one of my left stepped suddenly into the light and said, “Get the bastard, Curly, I have this side.”
In the sudden stillness and silence we all heard the unmistakable sounds of a double barrel shotgun being cocked. The sudden, sick look that came over the face of the one called Becker was almost comical. A voice from the darkness in the back called out,” You just worry about the pretty one Matt, and I’ll make sure these other three stay hitched. Sit down you, and put those hands on the table with the other two.”
With an ashen look on his face, he walked carefully and slowly back to the table and sat down with his two friends. Everyone new what devastation a double barrel twelve gauge shotgun loaded with buckshot could wreak. At that distance it would blow a man clean in half.
Curly looked a little peeved at this, but he had supreme confidence in his abilities, and knew he was a tough man, a hard man. Perhaps he was not above using a little extra help when he could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fast or that he was a coward.
“We don’t have to do this, man, why I don’t even know you.”
“Yeah, he hissed, but I know you.”
I stood motionless watching his eyes. Inside I was raging, but outside I was as still as a pool of water.
“Well son, this is as good a time to die as any.”
I saw his eyes widen at this and then his hand flashed to his side. As his pistol was coming level, mine was already firing. The two shots sounded as one. The heavy .44 slugs sent Curly staggering back into the table. With blood running down his side, he still struggled to raise his gun.
I stood watching.
With a look of bewilderment on his face, he slumped over the table and then fell slowly to the floor.
“I didn’t, I didn’t know. They said you were nothing, a bum, a nobody.” With that he rolled over on his back and was gone. At the age of twenty, I had just killed my sixth man.
I stood bleakly with that thought in my head and wished to never kill another.
That hard bitten old man in the darkness called out-“Well, he’s your friend, pick him up and cart him back to the ranch. Tell Benson to send a better man the next time. No son of old Matt Kerrigan is going to go down easy.”
The three walked over to Curly and rolled him over. Becker said- “Shot him right through the heart,… I never saw anything so fast...
O’Keefe stood watching this then said “wait minute fellows. How many shots did you hear?”
They stood uncertainly for a minute, and then the little bowlegged one said,” I believe I heard one?” And Curly never got a shot off.”
O’Keefe said,” Look at his shirt pocket.”
There, almost touching, were two bullet holes cutting the tobacco tag hanging there almost in half. They stood transfixed and into the silence the sounds of the two empties hitting the floor, one by one, sounded unnaturally loud.
In a whisper Becker said,” two times, two shots and I swear I heard only one. Who the hell are you?”
With that they picked up Curly and shuffled out of the saloon in silence. “O’Keefe said, “I never saw the like, in all my borned days I never saw any faster, And I saw some of the best, Tilghman, Wild Bill in Dodge City, Dave Matheson in St Louis, Earp in Tombstone.
“I wanted none of it, O’Keefe; I tried my best to get out of it.”
“Ay, I’m a witness to that Matt, but it will make no never mind to Benson” “For some reason he sent Curly and Becker here to watch for you. They been coming in regular like, the last week or so. I wondered why they been spending so much time in here just drinking and playing cards. I remarked on it once but Curly, he just told me to mind my own business and that’s one thing I’m good at.”
That old man with the greener looked over at me with those shrewd old eyes and said, “Matthew Kerrigan, it might be best if we shook the dust offen this place for a while. It’ll take them some time for them to tote Curly back to the ranch, but come daylight I expect Benson will be sending a few more in to say how do.”
“Man, I don’t even know him: I’ve never set eyes on him in my life.”
“Yeah, but your Pappy has, and that’s what has him worried. You come up in the mountains with me, I got a little place tucked back in tight against the mountain and I got me a little claim I been working some. That will give us some time to catch our breath and get acquainted.”
I looked at that tough old man for a second and answered, “I t might be that I could do that, but I don’t even know your name, old timer.”
“Corbett is my name, Sam Corbett and I knew your Pap when we worked together as civilian hunters for the army a while back.” He watched for a second then said, “We ain’t got much time son, and I’d like to be home by morning.”

O’Keefe said, “Matthew, you won’t go wrong with old Sam here, he’s as straight as an arrow and I can fix you up with a bait of grub quick.”
With an inward sigh, I said “Well it looks like me and my horses aren’t going to get any sleep tonight either.” “I sure was looking forward to that bed upstairs.”
Sam said, “You go get the horses ready, Matt and I’ll get the grub from old O’Keefe here.”
“Old, he bristled, why who you calling old, you old scudder?” With a grin on his creased face, he followed O’Keefe back into the kitchen and I could hear them laughing as they started putting a feed sack of grub together. I stepped into the night, moving quickly to my left and stood with my back to the wall watching the darkness. After a minute or so, I was pretty sure I was all alone, except for that coyote yapping at the moon on the ridge above the town.
I walked into the stable and the old man in the corner called out,’ all right, who is it now?”
“It’s just me, old timer, come to get my horses, I’m pulling out after all.”
“Well, he said, you didn’t stay long. I figgered by all that shooting over there, that either you would be pulling out, or you’d be staying for the funeral, yours.” With that he cackled and slapped his knee.
“Well, there’s gonna be a funeral, I reckon, ceptin’ I don’t think Curly would be wantin me there, seein’ as how I’m the reason he’s gonna be attending it.”
“So, you did for old Curly, eh? He peered at me in the gloom. There’s some around here that thought he was mighty fast.”
I said, “He wasn’t fast, old timer, he wasn’t even close.”
With that, I went over to old Buck and roused him out. He wasn’t too happy about having to get going again, and I couldn’t blame him: I wasn’t looking forward to it much myself. That Indian pony though, he was still surprised he was even in a stall and he’d been fed better than he probably ever had before, so he just stamped a little and snorted when I put the lead rope on him and led them out into the cold night.
Old Sam was already there waiting and looked a mite brighter when he saw the pony I had. “Well, that is a nice looking pony, Matt. I was worrying some how we was going to pack all this grub O’Keefe made up. Hell, there’s enough here for a month and I been traveling light, left my pack horses back at the place. I also got a few boxes of .44’s; you can never have too much ammunition.”
I allowed that was right, then we stepped up on our saddles, and with a snort, Buck followed Sam’s mule into the night.
The silence was broken only by the sound of the hoofs occasionally striking a hidden stone, or the occasional snort from one of the animals. It was cold, real cold. And, the higher we went and the later it got, the colder it became. The steam from the horses’ breath streamed out and trailed behind us. The stars were so bright they lit up the landscape so a body could almost read a newspaper by it- providing you could find one in this country. I turned around in the saddle from time to time inspecting our back trail, but there was nothing but the bitter cold and the stars for company. I was wishful of a warmer coat, but I had lost my buffalo robe down on the Green last winter. A bunch of Blackfoot had hit our hunting party early one morning and run off a bunch of our stock, and I had my heavy coat tied to the back of my hunting pony. Old Buck never did learn to chase buffalo like those Indian ponies did; he just refused to do it. I didn’t mind really, cause his reflexes weren’t as quick as those little ponies were and I wasn’t wishful of losing my horse to a mad buffalo. And, they did for more than one horse on those hunts.
As we rode ever higher, my thoughts turned to the trip out here and what I had seen and experienced on the way. The cattle drive I hired on three days out of St. Louis.
I rode up to their camp just after dusk and helloed the fire, stopping just in the firelight while they looked me over good. “Come in stranger, but come in slow and keep your hands where we can see them.
I took no offense at this, for I had learned that was the custom out here in the west. I stepped down stiffly and walked towards the fire. Hunkering down and holding out my hands towards the welcome heat, I looked over this bunch I had ridden into. I expect they were watching me just as close. “Matthew Kerrigan, sir, fresh out of Tennessee, and looking for work, if you have it, and a cup of that hot coffee iffen you don’t.”
The tall gentleman standing at the back of the chuck wagon answered, “There’s hot coffee and some warm bacon and biscuits there by the fire, Kerrigan, help yourself... I moved closer to the warmth and filled my cup full of that hot, bitter brew and man nothing tasted as good as that first cup did. Refilling my cup, I reached over and picked up a couple biscuits and the last of that bacon and in no time it was inside of me where it would do the most good. “Obliged to you sir.”
The older man moved into the firelight and held out his hand. “Calloway is the name, Jonathon Callaway, and if you are in need of employment, then sir, you have come to the right place. One of my men left the train in St. Louis and another is back in the chuck wagon with a broke leg. Dang horse shied at a rattler and threw him twenty feet. Can you work cattle, Kerrigan, and can you use that pistol hanging on your side?”
“Well, Mr. Callaway, I reckon I can get by with them both.”
“Then you’re hired Kerrigan, forty a month and found, if that suits you?” That suited me just fine as most punchers got only about 20 to 30 dollars a month.
I walked over to my horse and unsaddled him and, after rubbing him down, gave him a bait of corn I had carried with me and turned him out with the remuda. I unrolled my blankets, and with my saddle for a pillow stretched out thinking I had done mighty well for a man who was just about starving a couple days ago.
I slept like someone had dropped a rock on my head, but was up and about at first light. We Kerrigan’s never were ones to lie abed. I shook out my boots and clapped my hat on, then strapped my pistol belt around my lean hips. I could smell the coffee and bacon already. After breakfast, the foreman, a short, redheaded man named Blake said. “Kerrigan, rustle you a fresh horse out of that bunch and give yours a rest.” I allowed he could use it and went into the makeshift corral and dropped my loop over a lamp jawed bronc that looked like he could buck you into next week, but would stay at it all day once you got the kinks out.
I noticed the other hands watching out of the corners of their eyes as I cinched up the saddle and stepped on. Now most horses will jump and crow hop a little in the mornings just to show you they can if they want. This one just stood quiet a little then, when I hit him with the spurs a mite, just flat blew up. I was figuring on this, though, and before he could get really going, I jerked his head up tight, almost breaking his jaw. As I said before, I was always uncommon strong and between the iron grip I had on his sides and my keeping his head tight, he just quit after a few seconds and off we went.
I noticed the boss watching me and saw him nod to himself as I rode out to begin the day. Being the new man, I took up my place riding drag. Now no one likes that job as you get all the dust from every cow ahead of you. But, there was a nice breeze blowing and it wasn’t that bad atall. The herd had been traveling together for months now, so they knew the drill. One old brindle steer had taken the lead and the rest just naturally fell in behind and we were on our way.
I watched as two riders fell back and rode over to me. “Howdy Kerrigan,” the one said. I’m Skip Lohman and my tall skinny partner here is Patrick O’Neill, both lately from the hills of Kentucky. I leaned over and shook both their hands, glad they made the effort. Lohman was a short, stocky man in his early twenties, looked like and his partner O’Neill was a tall, lanky man, a mite older, with sandy hair and a new Winchester repeater rifle in a holster on the right side of his saddle. Lohman rode on my right and kept up a running conversation as we rode along. “Now, Kerrigan, the boss is about as good a man to work for as I ever did see. He’s fair and honest and puts in his time right along with the rest of us. Only thing, he don’t put up with much foolishness, like drinking on the trail or fighting among the men.”
O’Neill piped up and added, “Yeah, I seen him send more than one man back down the trail; they get one warning and that’s it. But, all in all he’s as good a boss as you could ask for. The foreman, Red Blake, he’s been with the boss since he was a tyke, seems like.” Calloway took him in years ago, the last one left from an Indian attack on their homestead back in east Texas.” “Why his Pa ever picked that place to set down, no one can figure, right in the middle of Comanche country. He had him a good spot though, lots of grass, good water, but he was fresh out of someplace back east and just wouldn’t take any advice. Always said he figured he could get along with anyone if you treat them right. He learned the hard way about Comanches; they can’t even get along with themselves. They found the boy hid in a dry wash two days later, about dead from thirst. Calloway was out that way looking for strays, and kinda keeping an eye on them too, when he saw the buzzards. He buried what was left of the Mom and Dad and took the kid home and raised him as his own. He was only about four or five and it was just dumb luck he was playing in that old creek bed. When the shooting started, he just hunkered down under a big sage and stayed right there till Callaway showed up. He’s been with him ever since.”
“That long, tall drink of water off to the west is Long Tom Benson; he comes from a feuding family in the hills back in West Virginia. He don’t talk much but he’ll go all day and he’s a good man to have at your back, case we run into injuns or rustlers.
“Over on the other side of the herd there is Ty Crockett from Alabama.” “He talks a mite funny, but he’s a top hand too. A little behind him is Audie Brant from the west Texas country. He’s about the quietest feller you’ll ever see, but a good worker. You’ve already met the cook last night; just call him Pop, that’s all he answers to.”
“Now, the last one on the drive is that young feller with the two guns, he’s Johnny Weller and he figures he’s about the fastest thing with a gun since Wild Bill. He’s a good enough feller, but he’s so dang anxious to prove he’s a fast gun that he’s going to get hisself killed: or someone else.” It ain’t that he’s a bad kid, he’s not, he’s just read too many of those dime novels and thinks he has to kill a few men before anyone will look up to him. Iffen he makes it a couple more years, he might be alright.”
“Well, Kerrigan, that’s the lot of them; little enough to make a drive, but with your help and some good grass and water, we should make it ok. Oh, almost forgot, the man in the wagon is an older fellow by the name of Andy Sellers. He’s a good man too but won’t be worth much except helping Pop with the cooking and dishes for awhile yet. Well that’s all of us Kerrigan; we better get back to work before the boss has our hide. See you back at the chuck wagon later on.”
I watched then ride slowly away towards the herd. “Well, I figured, I’m heading west and this is as good a way to get there as any, and I can make some good money doing it.”
We made good time that day, covering almost twenty miles, and the boss stopped for the night on the other side of a good sized river. It was always smart to cross any rivers you came upon before you stopped the herd as it could rain any time in this country and many a herd has been trapped on the wrong side of a river when one of them cloudbursts hit and spent a day or two waiting for the water to recede enough to take the herd across.
I turned my horse into the makeshift corral and went over to the fire where the other punchers were waiting for supper. Supper was regular camp grub, beef and beans and bread that Pop managed to bake somehow in an old oven he carried in the back of the wagon. The coffee was first rate, and a cowhand would take a lot as long as he had good grub and coffee.
I saw the other hand, Andy Sellers, limping about the wagon and gathering what wood he could find close by. He nodded as he went by and I waved back.
I sat back and watched as the rest made small talk and nodded when anyone looked my way. Finally the young one, Johnny, walked over and held out his hand. I stood and shook his and we exchanged introductions.
“Is this your first drive,” he asked? I allowed it was and was ready to learn what I needed to pull my weight. ”
“Ah, I saw you earlier and you were doing fine. This is my second time over the trail with the boss. The last trip we lost a few head crossing that river back there, but it went pretty well. We saw a few Indians a time or two, but the boss rode out and cut a few beef out for them and they didn’t cause no trouble.” “Iffen they had, I was ready with my Colt, but they just rode of f a ways and watched us go.”
He seemed so disappointed I had to smile a little. “Well, you never know what might happen Johnny, there’s always the chance of rustlers and maybe we’ll run into some Indians who might want our hair more than our beef.” With that he brightened a little and then said goodnight and walked over to his blankets and lay down. I was feeling pretty beat, so I did the same.
The last thing I remember was a coyote yapping at the moon, and then I was sound asleep till dawn.
We rolled out of camp the next morning right after breakfast. The boss seemed a little worried, but I had no idea what was bothering him. Finally, around noon, he rode over to me and drew up alongside. “Kerrigan, I took a turn back there after we crossed the river.” “I heard there’s a gang roaming the river breaks and charging the herd bosses a grazing fee. I have a neighbor who went through here in the spring and he spent the next month or so getting over a bullet in the shoulder from those men. They took all his cash money and a lot of good beef. So, I took another way through this country; it’s a mite farther and the grass isn’t as good, but there is enough water and I don’t need a fight and I can’t afford to lose any money this trip.” “I overextended my self a mite, and if I don’t get this herd to market in Kansas up ahead, I could lose the ranch. Every beef counts and so far we haven’t lost a steer, and I don’t intend to lose any to a crooked bunch like that. My friend lost almost half his herd to that bunch-penalty they called it.” “Sir, I signed on for the trip and I work for the brand. If there is trouble, I’ll be right there with the rest.”
“I figured that, son; I just wanted to let you know we might be in for some rough weather.”
With that he nodded and rode off towards the front of the herd.
I kicked my mount and trotted over towards Long Tom Benson. He nodded as I rode up and I made a cigarette and offered him the makings. With a nod of thanks he took it and rolled one of his own. We rode along for a few minutes then I asked him if he knew anything about that gang that was riding the breaks and holding up the herds for these fake grazing fees.
“I should smile, I do he said with a soft drawl. In fact, one of them no accounts is my cousin from West Virginia. He robbed his pappy of all his money afore he came out here. “That was bad enough, but he shot my little brother Tommy afore he left. Only sixteen and all he was trying to do was talk our cousin out of taking the family’s savings. He just turned and shot Tommy as casual as you would a coyote.” “That Henry always was mean, never could get along with anyone. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone by hiring on with Calloway here. Last I heard in the last town we was in, Henry joined up with that gang hanging around here, and I aim to find him.”
I looked at him and was glad he wasn’t huntin’ me; he was one that wouldn’t quit till he got the coon.
I rode ahead a ways later in the day figuring to take a look around. I still hadn’t gotten used to this country. Why a man could see for miles and miles out here and though it looked as flat as a skillet. I knew there were swales and hollows where you could hide a whole passel of Indians in. The grass was high and waving a little in the breeze, and I had seen buffalo here and there in standing in little bunches. As far as a man could see there was only that sea of grass. For a man from the Tennessee hills, this took some getting used to.
As well as I liked these plains, I was wishful of getting to the real country, the mountains. Why, I had heard tales from those that had gone out here and come back that made a man want to pack right up and leave now. Mountains that touched the sky, and snow on the highest peaks even in the hottest days of the summer. Rivers that ran clean and cold, full of trout that had never seen a hook, and beavers in every stream, and game so thick a man had to kick it out of the way.
Now, I could tell when a man was exaggerating a mite, but even allowing for some stretching, it had to be a wonderful place.
So here I was, riding under the Kansas sky, above a sea of grass, on my way to the Rocky Mountains and a new life for all of us.
I circled around the herd a few miles and came up on a small pond that had formed naturally. I looked it over close, but other than a few antelope around the edge, it was empty. I let Buck drink a little, then turned and started around the back of the herd. I noticed that the herd had stopped as I rode closer. There, at the edge of the herd were five men and facing them was the boss and Red, the foreman.
I could hear their voices as I rode up. One of them, the leader I figured, was a bit closer to Callaway than the rest. As I rode up to them, I saw Calloway throw me a grateful glance.
I just sat and listened awhile.
The one doing all the talking was big, and he wore two guns crossed, and another in his belt. The other four fanned out a little as I rode in. One of them moved away from the pack and moved to side the big one.
“What’s the trouble mister?”
“The leader looked at me with a sneer on his face and answered, “Why there ain’t no trouble boy, least there won’t be if your boss pays us what he owes.”
I smiled a little at that and asked, “Now what would we be owing you for?” He smiled nastily and said,” Why, for grazing fees, what else?” He looked over at Callaway and said, “I bet you figgered you’d get out of paying by taking the long way around, huh? Pretty tough to hide the dust from a herd as big as that one.”
He stood in his stirrups and looked over at our herd for a second then with a grunt sat back down in the saddle. “Well, I’m not a greedy man, so I figure if you give me a dollar a head that will pay for all the grass them critters eat from here to Kansas City.”
Calloway looked at him for a second in astonishment and said, “Hell man, that’s over three thousand dollars, I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Well, we’ll just have to confiscate your herd till you can come up with it.”
Red looked around helplessly for the other men, but they hadn’t come over the hill yet. “Kerrigan, the boss is no hand with a gun and I’m not much better. Hell, we’re cattlemen, we can shoot but nothing compared to these men.”
I just nodded and said out of the corner of my mouth, “Just move away from me a little, and take Callaway with you.” With that, he moved his horse over a mite and Callaway’s horse sidestepped with it.
I saw out of the corner of my eye a rider coming over the hill. It looked like Benson. I could sure use him now, but I could tell he was going to be too late.
Callaway looked over at the big one and said, “We aren’t paying you a cent, you damn thief, even if I had the money to pay. I’d rather lose this whole herd then pay you a damn dime.”
The big one turned his horse towards Callaway and said, “Well, that can be arranged you damn fool.” The other one was watching Red and the other three were just sitting calmly back aways. They had seen it all before and were confident these two could handle whatever happened.
I knew that if I didn’t do something fast, we could all die here today. I wasn’t afraid,… just mad.
I looked over at the two and said, “Boys, it might be a good idea if you were to turn right around and ride out of here. No one is cutting this herd, not today, not ever.”
The big one looked me over carefully. He wasn’t used to being bucked; he had had his way too long. “Who’s gonna stop me, you?”
“Me, I said.” I figured I was going to take some lead, but I didn’t see any way out of it. I intended to take the big one first and if I was still able, the one on his right. I watched his eyes and when they narrowed a bit, I drew my pistol. My first two shots took him right over the heart. I leaned over a bit and fired under Buck’s neck at the other one. This shot took him in the throat and he fell off his horse with a little gasp. When he hit, he blew up a little cloud of dust, which hung in the still air for a minute. The leader was tough, I’ll give him that. With two bullets in him, he was lying over his horses’ neck, trying to lift his gun with a hand that no longer had any strength. “Who the hell are you, he asked?”
“Just Kerrigan.”
With that he fell off and landed with a soft thud. This had happened so fast that the others were just going for their guns.
Callaway’s horse, not used to this commotion, was buck jumping all over the place. Red’s horse was made of sterner stuff and was prancing a little, but not bad. Still, he shot well enough to hit one of the three and last I saw, he was riding away as fast as he could, leaning over his cantle, and swaying a little... I felt the whiff of a bullet as it went by my head, and steadied Buck.. The other two were shooting at me now and their aim was getting better. I leaned over Buck’s neck and aimed down the barrel of my .44 and took up the slack slowly. When the gun went off, the one on the left threw up his hands and slid off, not moving. I knew I didn’t have time to get the last one, but I was sure as hell going to try.
He hollered, “I got you at least, you bastard.” I saw the flame from his pistol and the bullet burned Buck along his side. Now I had trained Buck to stand when I shot while hunting and he was usually pretty good at it. But he figured he hadn’t signed on for this and when that bullet cut him he just exploded. I was sent flying through the air and when I hit it snapped my head down against my chest and my spine felt like I had been kicked by a mule. My revolver went flying and I sat there like I had been planted. With my head ringing I looked up at him and saw him sighting down the barrel of his gun, laughing. “Well, I’ll just kill you and then I better get the hell out of here.”
Just before he pulled the trigger that last ounce, he was simply wiped off his horse like a giant hand had swept him away. I sat stupidly wondering what had happened, when a second later, I heard the report of that big Sharps fifty that Benson carried. Nothing I had ever heard before sounded as good as that sound. A minute later he rode in fast in a cloud of dust and skidded to a stop
” Man am, I glad to see you, I said with a grin.”
He grinned back and said, “Sorry I was a little late. I didn’t figger out what was going on till I got a little closer.” Callaway and Red were still shocked a little by all that had happened in so short a time. Red said, “Why man, I it was just plain luck I hit that one.” Callaway looked over at me and said, “I’ve never seen anyone get a gun going as fast as you did, Kerrigan.”
“I’m just glad I was here Sir, things looked as though they were getting a little rough when I rode in.: I’d be thanking Long Tom here too. If it wasn’t for him I’d be getting measured for a box about now.”
Long Tom walked over to the man he had shot and stooped over him for a second. I saw him shake his head and he stood and walked back to us. “Boss, if I might have your permission, I’d like to bury that one over there.” “Well sure Benson, but why?”
“Well Sir, he’s my cousin, and he ain’t much good and he shot my little brother, but I figure he at least deserves a proper burial.”
“You go right ahead Tom, and come on back to the herd when you are done.” What do we do with these other three, Matt?”
I said we might as well just tie them on their saddles and let them go back to where they come from. “It might give the rest of them the idea that this is the wrong business to be in.”
So, that’s what we did.
A few minutes later the rest of the crew came racing over the hill and rode up to us. The kid yelled. “What the hell happened here?” Skip just sat and looked the area over carefully. Audie Brant said “are you alright Boss?”
In a shaky voice he said, Thanks to Matt here, we are. And that was mighty good shooting too Benson. Hell that was five hundred yards if it was an inch.”
Long Tom just grinned a little and, bending, picked up his cousin and carried him over the hill to a little swale with a few trees standing in the bottom.
Crockett walked over to the two ringleaders and bent over them for a minute. He walked slowly back to us and said,’ “man those two never even got a shot off; who the hell are you, Kerrigan?”
“Just a poor Tennessee boy trying to make my way in this wide wicked world.” I said with a grin.
With that, we finished tying the others to their saddles and slapped their horses on the backsides, sending them trotting across the prairie, back to where the rest of them were waiting, wherever that was. We all mounted up, except for Benson, and started back towards the herd. The kid, Walker, rode up to me so excited he couldn’t set still on his horse. “Man, Matt, why wasn’t I there, I missed it all.”
“Johnnie, you are lucky you did.” It doesn’t please me to have to kill a man, but there it was. It was either them or us, and we were just lucky this time.” “They were too confident, this had worked so many times they got careless.” “Another time and maybe we won’t be so lucky. It’s a terrible thing to stop another man’s life, to snuff it out like a candle. Now, no one deserved it more than they did; I know they killed some good men before. I hope to never have to use this gun to take another man’s life. I take no pleasure in it, no matter how much they deserved it.”
I noticed Skip nodding in agreement behind us. “Pay attention to what Kerrigan says Johnny, he’s talking sense.”
“Ah what do you know,” he said disgustedly, and with that he spurred his horse and rode on ahead, shaking his head and talking to himself.
Skip grinned after him and said,” Well, he’s young.”
I just laughed at that and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
The word must have gotten around, because we had no more trouble from then on till we rode in to the holding pens on the outskirts of Kansas City. The boss was so relieved that he sent us in to find a buyer and said, “Stay out of trouble, men, but have some fun, you’ve earned it.”
He gave Red some money to divvy up among us and said, “I’m sorry, men, but that’s all I have till I sell the herd tomorrow.”
Crockett said,” No problem, Boss, this will do us just fine till tomorrow.” And with that they all rode off with wild hoops and cries.
‘Aren’t you going in Matt?”
“I figured I’d just as soon stay out here with you, Sir.”
“Well, ok then, glad for the company.” He got off his horse and sat down against the wagon. “Well, Matt, what are your plans after this, I could use a good man on the ranch. I’ll pay you a good wage.”
“Well, Sir, I sure thank you for that, but I made a promise to Ma that I’d find Pa and a place to relocate out in that Wyoming country somewhere.” “We’d like to start a small ranch ourselves and build a life for all of us.” “Me being the oldest, it fell on me to start it.”
With a sigh, he said,” I understand, son, I really do. But just remember, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just call.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but it sure felt good to know that someone cared enough about me to say it.
The next morning Callaway sold the herd for twenty seven dollars a head, better than he had expected. But, there was a hunger for beef back east and the price had gone up, and this beef was in top condition.
We had had us an easy trail and we all knew how lucky we had been.
Callaway came into the restaurant that morning where I was eating the first ham and eggs I had seen in over two months. He handed me a roll of bills and said,” Matthew, I am beholden to you and if you ever need a job, I say again, just come down to Texas and it’s yours.”
I stood and shook this man’s hand and looked in his honest eyes and said, “I surely thank you sir, but I’ve got a long way to go and I’m burning daylight.”
I stopped at the saloon and said goodbye to the rest of the crew. Red stood and shook my hand and then the rest came over and did the same. We mumbled goodbyes and thank yous and I turned and walked out to the hitch rail and swung up on Buck.
Long Tom stood just inside the door and lifted his hand in farewell. I didn’t see Skip or O’Neill, probably still in bed sleeping off the hell of a good time they had last night. I smiled a little as I waved back at Long Tom, feeling a little sad myself. We had gone through a lot together these last couple months, and I would miss them. But, I knew the world was a smaller place than most people thought, and chances were I’d see at least some of them again.
It took me another two months or so to ride the rest of the way across that endless prairie and into Wyoming. It wasn’t until , when I stopped at a little General Store to replenish my tobacco and pick up some coffee and grub that I discovered that Callaway had given me three thousand dollars in that roll, along with a note. It said, “Matt, I knew you probably would throw a fit if you saw how much this was, but I am telling you that you earned all of it, and more. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have lost the whole herd, as it is I’m now a wealthy man, and this is my way of saying thank you.” “Goodbye son, and take care, yours: John Callaway.”
I was stunned for a minute. This was more cash money than I had ever seen all at one time.
I smiled a little then, remembering this man, my friend.
A sudden stumble of my horse jerked me back to reality and I heard Sam’s voice calling back to me. “You asleep back there, Matt?”
“No sir, just thinking a mite, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s only about another three of four miles to the homestead, and then we can put these animals up and get some sleep, on a real bed.”
“A real bed, I thought, out here?” Sam must have read my thoughts cause his voice trickled back,
“Well, at least they are real mattresses; I got them out of the hotel back in town when the mine closed. One thing I am particular about in my old age and that is my sleeping arrangements.”
I called back, ‘Why, old and tough as you are, you could sleep on a bed of nails and never know they were there.” I heard him chuckle a little and then it was just the night again and me and the horses. And the cold, man now this was cold. The stars were blazing in the night sky and the moon shone down with an even colder light. I wasn’t used to this thin air and how quick it got cold, no matter how warm the days were.
Dawn was breaking as we came up over a steep grade we had been climbing for what seemed like hours. The sun hit us right between the eyes as we breasted the hill. Sam had stopped for some reason and I rode up alongside him wondering at the delay.
There about a hundred yards ahead of us sat six Indians. “Damn, Sam muttered, Arapaho.”
“You know them, Sam?”
“Yeah, it’s Cross Fox and some of his braves. He doesn’t like me much, but usually he leaves me alone. Looks like they were out hunting this morning,.. and found us.”
We sat still and watched as they rode up to us. I knew a little sign language I had learned from some Cherokee friends I had back in Tennessee, but I hadn’t learned any of the Indian talk out here yet. I watched as Sam and the chief talked, using a mixture of sign language and words. I could follow the sign a little once in awhile, but the words were meaningless. I kept noticing the chief looking over at that Blackfoot pony I had and a gleam came into his eyes as he talked.
Sam reined back to me and said, low like, “He’s mighty curious about that pony you got. I told him how you came by it, and might have added to it some.” He grinned a little at that. “It would be a sign of good faith and friendship iffen you was to give it to him, Matt. I have two more at the ranch and I’ll be glad to give you one.”
“Hell, that’s one more than I need anyway, he said.”
“Sure, Sam, whatever you think.”
I got down from my horse and untied the pony. I shifted the pack from him to Buck. He could carry it for all the longer we had to go. I walked over to the group of Indians and bowed a little to the chief. With what little sign language I did know, I presented the pony to him. He still had all the pretties that Indians liked to decorate their ponies with. There were even two scalps woven into its mane. The Indian stiffened a little when he saw them and the chatter went back and forth pretty fast for a minute or so.
Sam said, quiet like, “Them there is Arapaho scalps Matt and it is big medicine. You giving them that horse with them scalps on it is a great thing to them.” He talked again to Cross Fox for a minute and then leaned over to me. “He wants to know where the Blackfoot’s’ scalp is, Matt.”
I thought for a minute and said—“Tell him I never take scalps, Sam.” “My medicine is so strong I don’t have to worry about my enemies coming after me in the next life; they fear me even there.” After translating my words, all in the band looked incredulously at me and talked among their selves excitedly for another moment.
I held the reins out to the chief and he stepped down off his horse in one fluid movement.

Indians didn’t shake hands like the white man, they didn’t like it. But this one stepped up to me, and looking deep into my eyes, gripped my arm in his right arm and squeezed it hard. He tied the pony to the back of his horse and with the same fluid movement, was mounted and off they rode, their wild cries floating back to us on the morning breeze.
I looked after them wondering: I had a lot to learn if I was going to survive their country, but it looked like I had a good teacher.
“Well, that turned out better than I expected, Sam said. I never know how I’m going to get along with them. One thing to remember about Indians, you can never tell what they are going to do next. Hell, I don’t think they know either, they are a notional creature that’s for sure. Now, with this, I’ll sleep a little better at night.”
“That was big medicine and I told them that you are a great warrior, and that you are like my son. So, now we both come out smelling pretty..” With a grin, he turned his horse and we rode slowly towards his home.