Desert Rat
Copyright© 2026 by Mark Randall
Chapter 5
A week after leaving Pozo de Agua, Caleb had returned to his old habits and patterns. One of those was taking a noon siesta. When the heat of the day peaked, he would relax in a shaded area. He usually also took that time to survey the landscape.
He was in no hurry; he never was. He figured he had at least 3 or 4 more days before he got back to his claim and diggings. He called it his claim, but there wasn’t anything filed. But at the same time, he wasn’t worried about a challenge either. Very few people came around; occasionally, he would see other humans in the area. Usually Indians, but sometimes Whites and Mexicans. This didn’t bother Caleb, but he did tend to avoid those wanderers.
This day was no different. Caleb found a convenient shrub on a small rise that gave him a good view of his back trail, provided some shade, and hid him from view. After a sip of water and a chew of jerky, he saw a group of six riders on the flatlands to the south. Normally, this was of little interest to Caleb. However, this group was acting differently. They were moving slowly, and the lead rider was bent nearly double on his horse.
As he watched, the group stopped when the lead rider dismounted and knelt, examining the ground closely.
Chuckling to himself, Caleb said, “Well, Mutt, looks ta be sumbody’s lookin fer sumthin.”
Mutt didn’t answer.
The Navajo tracker, Long Eye, had dismounted and was on one knee. Jesse was about 5 feet behind him, and the other riders were about 10 yards behind him.
“Well?” Jesse demanded
Long Eye was lightly tracing something on the ground. “One man, on foot. One burro, small, heavy load.”
“Burro? Not a donkey? Are you sure?”
Long Eye said nothing, just shrugged.
“How long ago?”
Long Eye held up his hand with three fingers raised. “Two, three suns.”
“OK, where was he headed?”
Saying nothing, he pointed to the mountains to their north.
“Shit, if he gets into those hoodoos, we’ll never dig him out.”
Again, Long Eye said nothing, just shrugged.
At first, the Hughes gang had easily followed Caleb’s trail. But as the days passed, the trail became more difficult. The signs faded with time and became difficult to find. Then there were the other trails, each leading down false paths. Some were from Caleb’s travels, but some were from others who had wandered through the badlands in the past. Some tracks were animal signs, old, and indistinguishable from human signs.
After 5 days in the badlands, patience and tempers were running short, and that’s when the grumbling started.
Dudley Green was the first to speak up; he was the oldest of the group and well-liked by the others. “C’mon, Jesse, let’s give it up. That old fart is gone. He’s either in California or halfway to Alaska.”
Jesse was not happy; he had just discussed it with Long Eye. Long Eye, through sign language and pidgin English, had informed him that there was no longer any trail to follow. This is not what Jesse wanted to hear, and his temper was climbing.
“Oh, quit yer bitchin’, Green. I told you that I wanted that old bastard, and I ain’t stopping until I’ve got his scalp.”
“But there ain’t no sign. Even Long Eye says so. What do ya want ta do? Hang around until the second coming?”
“Ya know, Green, I’m wondering if you’re just a bit nervous about us catching this bastard. I’ve always thought you might be a coward.”
“Jesse, you know better than that. We rode together during the war. I was the one who dragged you to cover when you caught that shell fragment.”
Jesse continued, “You just want to get out of here, right? Wanna go back home to momma? I always thought you had a yellow streak.”
Jesse’s hand dropped to his pistol butt, which Dudley saw. “Don’t try me on Jesse, you know I can outdraw you.” His hand hovered over his gun butt.
The two stared at each other, not moving. The rest of the gang was silent. But out of the corner of his eye, Jesse saw Dudley’s younger brother, Gideon’s hand near his own gun.
Jesse’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then his face brightened, and he reached up and rubbed his chin. “Well now, no need to get all jumpy here, fellers. Why don’t we sleep on it and leave this till tomorrow?” He then turned away from Dudley and stepped over to the fire and ladled out a pan full of beans. Then he stepped over to the side and started eating.
The rest of the evening was quiet, but Jesse occasionally shot looks at Dudley and his brother Gideon.
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