The Shootist - Cover

The Shootist

Copyright© 2011 by aubie56

Chapter 4: "Bandit hunting"

I was 14 years old by now, and I was feeling every inch of my new maturity. The episode with the woman on the road from Crosleyville had stirred up some feelings that I never before knew about. However, I knew about them now, and I was not able to forget.

I was flush with money, so I said "To hell with a hotel or a livery stable!" Instead, I bargained for a night in the local whorehouse. The women were amazed that I had a whole dollar to spend on women, so they showed me an especially good time. Yes sir, I learned some new stuff that night! That $1 even included breakfast and a sandwich to eat for lunch.

Saturday was an off day as far as the bandits were concerned. I never saw a single one, and the ride to Green Junction was hectic, but nonproductive. Sunday was a day off, and I spent most of that day sleeping in. I did give a passing thought to visiting the town whorehouse, but I let that slide and went back to sleep. I am sure that you can tell how tired I was!

When Monday came, it was time for the run to Hallys Crossing. I made sure to pick up my lunch before leaving, but I still got away well ahead of the stage. Again, the run was uneventful, but, at least, I was able to head for the whorehouse. The madam was agreeable to my same deal of $1 for the whole night, and I managed to empty my pipes of whatever stuff I had accumulated over the weekend. Man, them women sure were accommodating!

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday went the same way with nothing to show for my efforts beyond a sore ass. Friday was a little bit different. I ain't sure exactly what happened, but I think I frightened off a robbery attempt before it happened. I saw two men riding away from what I considered a prime holdup site just as I was getting there, but it might have been a coincidence. I guess I will never know. Anyway, no robbery happened that day, so I guess that I earned my keep.

I figured that Saturday was going to be another slack day, but I was in for a surprise. This was the day that the bank in Hallys Crossing was transferring some gold to the bank in Green Junction, and I guess every owl hoot in six counties knew about it.

Charlie was pushing them mules pretty hard on this day. Maybe he was trying to outrun any bandits before they had a chance to act. He was moving fast, and I was having to switch horses at nearly every relay station just to stay ahead of him. I was approaching a possible ambush site about four miles from the previous relay station when I saw a big rock blocking the road. Uh-oh, that was bound to mean trouble!

I moved as fast as I could to get into a fighting position when a bullet punched a hole in my hat and another bounced off my saddle horn. I guess that it was a good thing that I was moving fast because one of those bullets might of found my tender hide if I had not been a difficult target. Oh, well, another lesson learned!

I had my Henry in my hand before my horse even slowed enough to let me dismount without breaking an ankle. I dropped the reigns on the ground and ran for cover before my horse was hit by a stray bullet. Indians were careful not to shoot a horse, but Whites did not care!

I ducked behind a rock just before half a dozen or so bullets banged off of it, and I do not know how many missed. Hell, it sounded like a whole army was shooting at me! I sneaked a peek around that boulder and counted nine puffs of powder smoke. Okay, I had to face the obvious—I was in a shit pot full of trouble! Right then, I realized how fortunate I was to be carrying all my extra ammunition in a pouch at my waist. On the other hand, I had left my horse too quickly to haul my water canteen, so I was likely to get thirsty if this battle lasted very long.

I took my hat off because it made it too easy for the bad guys to spot me. The sun was right bright, so I hated to do that, but I figured that I did not have much choice in the matter! The last time I looked, those smoke puffs were pretty close together. I wondered if they were still that way. Well, there was one surefire way to find out!

I stuck my rifle around that boulder and enough of me to pull off an aimed shot where I had seen one of those puffs of smoke. Of course, I did not hit anything, but I did get a passel of bullets coming in my direction. I counted nine smoke puffs, and they were still grouped together, so I was probably facing some more amateurs. Thank goodness it was so easy for a man to dodge conscription into the Texas branch of the CSA (Confederate States Army). I had not been in the CSA either, but I had listened to my Pa's tales of the Indian fighting he had been involved in, so I had some idea of what to do.

As long as those fools stuck together, I had a better chance of living through this mess I had gotten myself into. Unfortunately, I did not have a very good firing position to do much useful shooting at them bandits, so I was going to have to move, and the sooner the better. I looked around for a better place to fight from, both from the point of view of shooting the bandits and of not getting shot myself. I also needed to get to it without exposing too much of my precious skin.

I had surveyed almost all of the territory around me before I saw the most likely place for me to run to. It was a small clump of trees of big enough diameter to afford some shelter from the bullets fired by a Henry. I was not worried about bullets from pistols at this stage. There was a shallow gully running from close to me to close to the trees, so I figured that would be my best choice of a path to follow.

I shoved my hat firmly on my head and picked up my Henry. I bent nearly double as I ran for that gully. I must of caught my enemies by surprise because they did not start shooting at me until I had nearly reached the gully. Luckily, it was not deep and had a bottom of sand. I dove into to that ditch and was mighty happy to be there as the bullets flew harmlessly over my head.

I crawled on my hands and knees to that bunch of trees and burst out of the gully at a dead run toward them. I got to the trees just as the bullets started to get too close, and one of them did pull at my shirt sleeve. I had made it, though, and you can believe that I was happy for that.

That little grove made a first-class fort for one man, and I was sure glad of that. For a while, so many bullets flew my way that I was afraid that they would cut down some of them trees! I had been right about one thing—I could now get much better shots at my enemies. I started shooting as soon as I could get my breath, and I knew from the screams of pain that I scored at least two hits.

The stage was not due for another half hour or more; that gave me enough time to take care of the problem or to get killed. I really hoped it was not the latter! I really had more of a problem than the bandits did: they could leave any time they wanted to, but I was stuck until they left if I was going to fulfill my obligations to Mr. Jameson. I had a great defensive position, but that did nothing to drive off the bandits. Like it or not, I was going to have to move away from my comfortable little fort!

I was going to have to depend on stealth, and that was going to be tough in the broad daylight! One thing for sure, my Henry rifle was the wrong kind of weapon for the kind of work I needed to do. A rifle was just too long and heavy for quick movement when I got close up to the bandits. I laid the rifle down where it would be safe and prepared to do my best with my revolvers. My ammunition pouch held about 50 cartridges, so I was not worried about running dry with them.

The last thing I did before running back to that little gully was to empty my Henry at the bunch of bandits. I hoped to make then keep their heads down and give me a chance to reach that there gully without being shot. My ploy seemed to work because there were no bullets fired my way until after I had reached the gully, and all of them bullets were aimed at the grove I had just left.

That there little gully ran for over a hundred yards to some more trees, but they were too far away from the bandits to do me any good. I stayed bent over and ran down the gully until I came to some brush that looked like it could hide me as I crept closer to the bandits. I kind of slithered over the edge of the gully and crawled toward the bandits, keeping the brush between me and the bandits.

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