Good Night Alive, Joel!!!! Everyday when I come here to hf, I am hoping and hoping you have come back to this (addicting) story. :2thumbsup: YES, I'm not only interested but awaiting another few installments with anxious anticipation!
cont. "Damn fools shot the water trough full 'a holes. Thing to do is gather as much pine pitch as we can and plug 'em up so's it'll hold water for their stock, such as left of 'em". A couple of the goats had been killed for food by the dead men and the children were going to miss them, being as they were more pets than livestock. Nothin' to be done about that now. The pitch gathered and applied to the gunshot holes, the windmill began to fill the large metal tank and Lonnie and Josh commenced to washing up. The Lancasters remaining stock milled around waiting for the water level to get high enough to get themselves a drink. Becky had not been alongside them when they woke up and when they found her in the tool shed, she was curled up with the mama cat and her kittens ,sleeping lightly. " shore looks peaceful, don't she?"Lonnie whispered. "Yeah. Ain't she a beauty"? Josh whispered back. "no doubt about it. They backed out of the shed quietly and stood next to it. I'll tell you somethin'. It sure as hell pays to have her on our side. I'd hate to go agin' 'er." Josh told Lonnie that "when they wrestled , it was an even-up proposition". You're jokin', son. "In no way am I stretchin' it. You seen her --pickin' up that iron all the time and runnin' for miles. She's a strange and wonderful girl, Lonnie and I figure I'm one lucky man, not only to know her, but by god, I'm a'gonna marry her!!" Jesus , boy--don't even make me think of your honeymoon night--you're gonna' get yourself hurt!," Lonnie said with a grin. Josh grinned at the dirt next to his boots and when he looked up, said " we oughta' think about rollin' outta here---we got a ways to go before we get to Sonora to see about the Baileys." "Yeah, but let's see if'n the breakfast here comes even close to Mrs Pearsons, if they're up to it." Soon, they were well fed, the stock had settled down and the kids were back to playing in the side yard as if nothing had happened. "Don't worry Jeff--Alma--we'll be back this way and when we get up to Sonora , we'll keep our ears open and if'n we hear of any a' them bushwhackers comin' this way--we'll get here in a hurry. But we do have to leave now and take care of business. We'll be back with some help to re-build your barn, but we don't exactly know when that'll be. This crap's gotta' stop and we're gonna' see to it, that it does." With hugs all around , the three riders rode north and east to ride higher in the hills where the heat would be lessened. "when we get to Sonora, I'm a'gonna see if'n there's a preacher around to get me and Josh hitched up. It's time", Becky said and noticed that in reaction to her own statement, her body give a small, moist signal that told her that was indeed-- ready.
Cont. "It just so happens, that there still IS some gold up there, if'n you know where to look and what to do when you find 'er", the grizzled old timer said as he spit out some coffee grounds. His mule was snuffling around in the dark behind them , no doubt getting acquainted with the gray and the other two mounts. Sometimes certain mounts get aggravated and have to be set to picket alone, if there begins to be trouble between them. Wouldn't do, to have a horse badly injured in the middle of nowhere. He had come up on the three riders as they were camped next to the small stream, however he had been heard and then spotted long before he got close to the fire. He had mentioned that he didn't exactly enjoy being welcomed into the area looking down the business end of a double barrel that suddenly poked out of a thicket upon his approach. They had a laugh over it as Becky tried to imitate the look that was on the old mans face when the shotgun was stuck almost in his ear. Josh wished he could hear that little girl giggle of Beckys more often. Almost seemed as if it came from someone other than her, thinkin' back on the events of the last few days. They had finally settled down and were looking into the fire and talking quietly. "So, you folks came out from Missouri, huh?" "Yeah, some years back. I miss it, but we're pretty well set up in the valley, what with a good size piece 'a land and plenty 'a horses to catch and break for the market", Lonnie said. " That's good", the old man replied. "I tried it when I first come out, but hell, I couldn't stay in one place long enough to make a go of it. Itchy feet, is what I got." " I know what ya' mean. I get a hankerin' to do some ridin' sometimes. Maybe go mountain fer a while. Do some trappin'. Look fer some gold like yer doin. Then I remember how old I am and that dispels that notion straight up," Lonnie said. Besides, I couldn't work for better people. Dispel. There's another 'a them two-bit words, Josh thought to himself. He and Becky were sitting quietly together listening to the two older men tell tales of past years, including cattle drives, criminals they had known and some of the battles they had seen while engaged in the war. The old miner had fought for the north and had been through some rough times even as Lonnie had, but for different reasons. They agreed that the past was done and gone and now was now and that was that. But not for the murderin' Jayhawkers. The old man said "If you folks is from Missouri, I got this here letter from my sister in Minnesota when I was in San Francisco selling the last 'a my take and gettin' my grubstake in proper order to return. It's a old letter, so I don't know much about what she said now. You-all heard about the James boys and what-all they been a doin'? "What do ya' mean?, said Lonnie. "well, they done rode up to Northfield and hit a bank up there and got themselves shot to shit. 'scuse me young lady--don't mean no disrespect." Becky nodded at the old man and he continued. They been robbin' trains and such and the god-damned Pinkertons are hot after 'em. I heard tell they's in Tennesee, but who knows?" Some 'a the Youngers was captured and Clell Miller and some others was kilt. I heerd tell a couple of 'em was shipped up to the medical school in michigan in pickle barrels so's they could study up on 'em. Ain't that somethin?' " You know 'em? the old man queried. " Why hell yes I know 'em. They's younger than me, but I know 'em. Natural born hellraisers, I reckon. But they ain't as bad as Bonney. Shit, that youngin'll draw on 'ya if'n you look at him wrong."They been loose and raisin' hell fer a while, I'm afraid their time is comin' to a close. They's thousands in rewards and that'll get more fellers out lookin' fer 'em." Josh and Becky were laid up in their bedrolls and drifting off to sleep, while the old fellers kept the tales going for a while. Lonnie was to take the first watch and then awaken Josh for the last watch. " You headin' back up to do some more pannin fer the yeller stuff"? The old man replied that he surely was and they was welcome to come along, if'n they was of a mind to. After a bit, Lonnie said " you know--that ain't a bad idea. WE got some serious business that needs lookin' after, but-----------he trailed off, thinking that maybe Josh and Becky might like to begin some new adventure after this other deal was done. Hell, they're young. Tough. Smart. Well, if'n I can pry 'em outta bed in Sonora after they get hitched---we'll just have to see. A deer in full flight heading towards some unknown hiding place from the Catamount that followed was the only incident to disturb the sleeping campers. The night was much cooler than in the valley.
cont. Your last name's Canary?, Lonnie asked the old miner, as they were breaking camp and getting ready to start what they hoped was the last of the THIS trip. "Shore is', replied the old fella as he readied the sturdy mule that he had depended on to carry him to some god-forsaken locations in search of the gold he coveted. For some years now, the mule had been almost his only company as he wandered. " Don't tell me you're kin to Jane Canary?" "Well, I cain't hardly deny it" he said with a smile. "She's a cousin and she be a hard case, I'll tell 'ya. I come down from Montana in '65 to help her family get shed 'a Missouri and what all was goin' on there. She were thirteen at the time, but had a mighty salty attitude already. Her ma had died and it weren't too long after we got north, that her pa was gone too. She took care 'a the kids, her siblins' and got right independant , I'll tell 'ya. Went to scoutin' fer the army, worked washin' dishes at the whorehouse and done a little whorin' herself, it was said. It also was said that ever place she turned up, calamity was sure to foller. But she tol' me one time that the only time calamity took place was when men irritated her!" Anyway--yup. Calamity Jane be my kinfolk. Josh and Lonnie glanced at each other and Becky said nothing. Sounds damn familiar to me, thought Lonnie. He figured Josh caught the look and was thinking the same. Saddled up, packed up and ready to continue the trek to Sonora and maybe on up to Jackson to help their fellow Missourians, they began to start the goodbyes. The old man never rode Jack, his mule, simply because the faithful old friend had enough to carry without adding to the load of camping gear, a couple of guns and the gold seeking equipment. Besides, he liked the pace of walking and feeling close to the land he passed through and the animals he was able to see by remaining quiet as he and Jack moved along. " Don't know how long we'll be up north, but if'n you get up around Sonora or Jackson, you ask around fer us. I'm a'thinkin' if all is well back in the valley at the 'steads, we might just want 'ta do somethin' differant than we been a'doin. " That sounds good, but who would I be askin' fer?? the miner asked. " Well, that ain't no problem. See that there young lady that's been a' settin' here with us?" Becky had gone off to relieve herself and was just then washing up in the creek, so heard nothing of the present conversation. "I do, and I been meanin' to ask about her when she was off somewhere. I get the feelin' she's a gal that means business when she gets ready to do so. She's shore a big one ain't she? I seen her rip some 'a them dried branches of'n them trees like they was twigs, when the fire needed stokin. And them eyes is somethin' I ain't never seen before." " You have no idea, old timer. No idea. Just inquire as to the whereabouts of the gal with the eyes, if'n you get up there afore we get to headin' back. You'll find us." Becky returned to the group, gave the old man a quick hug and slung the big shotgun over her shoulder and mounted up. " I been settin' around long enough. Let's go get some shit done, fellas. Oh. Yeah. A preacherman is what we be needin' ain't it honey?" "Among other things", Josh grinned his reply, as he leaned over and touched her leg. She put her hand over his and Josh marveled at how close their hands were in size. The smell of the pines was exceedingly pleasant as they started out towards they knew not what.
Cont. The day was one of near perfection as they rode through the pines on this warm July day, speaking to one another quietly in the parlance of their peers. Their mounts picked their way through the various topographical differences in a perfunctory way, as they trusted those who were mounted upon them and were relieved in their own particular horse way, that the going was leisurely and not one of the most recent and constant hasty rides. "I'll tell you-all what raised my hackles, Lonnie said conversationally, as his mount cleared a small stream. Those damned Pinkerton back-shooters burning the James family's place and killin' that little boy. They actually threw some kind of grenade through the winder and kilt him when Mr Samuel got it over into the fireplace and it blew. Then they turned tail and run, when the James boys didn't come out to get shot up, like the cowards they are." "Burnt 'em out?" Josh queried. "Yup. ruined one of their ma's arms. Screwed the house up. Couldn't do nothin' with her arm after that. One 'a my aspirations is 'ta run inta' some 'a those chicken shits and find out what they're made of." Becky had been quiet for a time, just enjoying the ride and the gentle motion of her horse as she picked her way over ,through or around the changes in the terrain. "So", Becky started--" Any 'a those shit-kickers out west? Any men, if you want to call 'em that, that would do that to a family without findin' out what was what, needs some serious regulatin.' " Yeah, well I heerd-tell they's all over the place and ifn' we're lucky, maybe we'll find us some, ", Lonnie said. " This trip is gettin' to be more interestin' all the time," Becky said. " I figger we're gonna' get to Sonora tomorrow and find out if'n the Bailey family is intact or have them scoundrels with the long memories been through and got to 'em." "Well, we can't be arbitrarily killin' no Pinkertons.. Law frowns on that, as you-all know," replied Josh. " You know what honey--the law can kiss my ass. This here's a wild --and in a lot 'a ways, untamed land. I ain'ta puttin' up with no fuckers that kill children. Ever. Or Missourians, for that matter. This here shit's got ta' stop and by god, we have to get it done and get our lives back 'ta normal.. I ain't a'fuckin around no more, Josh. We're gonna' do it together.." "Uh-oh", Lonnie whispered to Josh. " Well, I have a feelin' ain't no one gonna' ferget us in Sonora, Josh whispered back. When they camped that night, their little site buried in the sweet smelling pines on a slightly flattened spot with grass enough for the mounts and a small, cold stream nearby, Becky took off running, "to get back in shape some", she said. She had always had an unerring sense of direction, so the men didn't say anything to her when she left--they knew she'd return when she was good and ready. Lonnie put the last of the potatoes on sticks and began to fry up the deer meat from the hapless creature Lonnie had come upon when he was out to relieve himself the day before. Have to stock up some, he thought to himself. We should be there tomorra' some time, ifn' all goes as planned. "Wonder why we ain't seen no Indians", he said out loud more to himself than Josh. "Yeah wonder why, Josh said." Now, that-there a salient question," said Lonnie the reader. "Hahahahaha. Old man, you've got ta' stop that!!" Becky ran up into the camp and immediately stripped down to her nothins and went to the little stream and laid full down on her back to cool off. Josh and Lonnie looked at one another and said nothing. What in hell was there to say about a woman like Becky. Supper was filling and tasty to the travelers and all and all, very pleasant squatting by the small campfire, each to their own thoughts. The coyotes were busy determining their relative positions as the night stars seemed to hide in the treetops.
Cont. The three did not reach Sonora the next day, as the ride was a day longer then they had figured. The incident with the grizzly and her cub was an interesting diversion for the three and had they not been in a large meadow at the time of the encounter, it may well have turned into a serious one. A big grizzly can knock a horse down and kill both the horse and the rider if they are set upon suddenly from ambush. They had outrun the big omnivore on the flat, but they knew that if they had been on a hillside in the timber, the situation would have changed and surely changed for the worst in a hurry. As they rode on, they came across flowing streams of varying sizes full of fat rainbow trout floating motionlessly, suspended in the clear cold water that flowed from the unseen heights of the Sierra. The fish were ignored by the gold panners they passed, trying their hands at worrying small amounts of gold, usually three of four dollars worth a day, from the graveled edges of some of the larger streams. "Hell, as soon as I hit me a big one--I can buy all the fish I want," one would say. As this was 1879, the vast gold digs of '49 were mostly worked out years before. Individuals from the world over had showed up and either made their strike and had moved on to greener pastures to buy land and build large homes in the valley or San Francisco for their efforts and the unlucky ones were eventually employed in the fading towns, working at labor of some kind or they left to join some of the large cattle drives from Texas to Minnesota. Some began to fall in with the ever present road-agents that did about as well as the miners by relieving them of their takes whenever the miners could be caught out of town The take these days wasn't what it used to be, so stage coach and bank robbery became popular pursuits for some. Except for the large machines that those with capital or connections to eastern capital that could afford large investments, individual panning was just about gone. The machines had started to work the streams and rivers with huge steam engine driven pumps that blasted away whole hillsides with stream water to get at the deeply buried veins of the treasured gold. Three or four dollars a day in 1879 was at least enough to maintain oneself in clothing, food, entertainment , which usually meant whiskey, gambling and whores,so the small time panning continued. If a man saved up, got the necessary tools , he could cut himself some logs , make some lumber out of some of them for interior framing and could buy the rest of the necessary items to construct an adequate cabin in which to live. The panners mostly ignored them as they rode through and forded the streams in which the very optimistic men eked out their meager existence, but a few offered coffee and a meal as they passed and so they stopped at one such camp and accepted the offer from a couple of the truly rough men that spent their time wet, tired and a few bucks richer each day. Their looks belied the nature of these hardy men, for they were from back east, had tried their hand at going "mountain'. and found out that they were not suited for the solitude of the mountain man. They actually had fairly good educations and were pleased to meet another 'reader, which Lonnie most assuredly was. The men hadn't noticed that a girl was among the three riders, as she was taller than they were and since she had a habit of wearing her hat low touching the top of her nose, they just assumed the three were men. They had not seen her eyes or heard her speak either. That would change.
cont. The men were sitting around the fire staring into faraway places and remembering adventures past that only they knew. The discussion turned to frontier justice, which they found agreement in the fact that the two words together may be an oxymoron, depending on location and the temperment of the times. One such story was related to the two men by one miner and confirmed by his partner as gospel. 'I got drunk one time down in Texas and left the saloon without paying what I owed and took a bottle of whiskey out the door with me. So, the sheriff was notified, he found me and gave me a date to go to court to tell my side of the deal when the justice of the peace next came through. The day comes and there's several of us sitting around in the courtroom--which was the bar where my minor transgression took place--and the JP comes in with a bound book. I got a look at the book and it was a mail order catalogue. Not a law book--a mail order catalogue. I'm up first and the man opens the book randomly and says-" I fine you four dollars and seventy five cents." So I rise to object, since I had paid the bartender the amount I owed, but then my lawyer jerks me back down and says -" look-- just be thankful he turned to 'pants' instead of pianos." They got a good laugh at that and one of the men mentioned Judge Roy Bean, whose pronouncement -" we're gonna' give him a fair trial--then hang him", became not only a story that was repeated again and again, but had literally been said by the famous judge. Becky had gone to the stream to wash up before partaking of the supper the miners had graciously offered. She had let her hair down to wash, since it had been a while that it been attended to. Her hair, when fully down, came to her waist and showed luxurious waves with golden highlights, which the summer sun caused to show each year. She mostly kept it wrapped tightly in a series of folds up against the back of her neck so that it wasn't noticed by anyone that she had so much of it. She returned to the group around the fire while brushing her hair and caused some serious changes in the faces of their hosts. She had remained quiet all the while the men had been reminiscing and they had just let it go , thinking very little of her silence. But --OH my, thought the two strangers. What the hell -- no--where the hell- did this exquisite piece of femininity suddenly appear from? Becky had brushed her hair the requisite amount of strokes and set upon working some cocoanut oil through it. Ah, yes--the larger of the miners thought to himself --there's breasts under that shirt. I'll be damned. "Well. We have us a young lady here. I had no idea. You keep yourself under cover like that all the time"? Josh looked up from the fire and thought to himself-" Shit. here we go. Becky said nothing for a length of time and the man that had asked the question began to squirm around some. She always took her time. She continued to work the oil through her hair and finally answered the mans question. " I do what I need to do, mister. And I do it constantly. A girl gets fed up with the constant desires 'a men when they's whores around just about everywhere that would be happy fer some pawin' around on. So let's just move on with this-here conversation and on to somethin' else. Alright? "Alright. I didn't mean nothing by my comments at all. It's just that ---well--you really are a spectacularly beautiful woman." Lonnie put his hand on Joshes knee , thinking he might ought 'ta get ahead 'a the game if the boy was startin' to get upset. He needed not bother. Josh had seen plenty 'a this before and it was something like lighting a fuse on a stick 'a dynamite and waiting for it to blow something to hell. He was enjoying every minute of the situation. If he ever needed to step in to help becky, he would be there. She knew that. The mere movement of a beautiful woman moving around with her arms above her head making her breasts stand out and move sensuously and her body moving with the motion of the rhythmic stroking of oil through her hair was enough to drive some men to foolish undertakings. Which in the case of one Becky Pearson, often led to foolish men waking up wondering what day it was and maybe what year it was, if the transgression was serious enough. The look in the mans eyes was a familiar one and she hoped he'd soon forget any foolish ideas he might have. " Becky was staring right at the man as she worked her hair and he eventually had to look away. This was a confused man. A girl that was almost six foot five with her boots on--those weird , yet mesmerizing eyes---her womanly shape. Becky turned and retired to her bedroll, mainly to remove herself from the turn the conversation had taken. A turn with which she was all too familiar. The miner thought that when the three riders got to Sonora, he might just take a ride in and check up on this girl. That may be the right way of getting closer to her. The man had no idea.
