Chapter 21

Later on that summer, we heard from traders of a few raids on isolated farms where horses had been stolen but it appeared that for the most part the Comanches had learned their lesson. But along with the other news, they mentioned that a small group of Mexicans had been sighted near one of the Comanche villages.

John Linn opined that they were likely not aware they had crossed into Texas, but he asked to be notified as soon as possible if it happened again. We agreed that the government should be notified too, so that a company or two of rangers should be dispatched to chivvy them back across the border. The unusual thing about that sighting was that except for a few bold traders who were well-known to the Comanches, Mexicans generally tried to avoid them as much as possible.

But John didn’t figure it was important at the time, and neither did I.

Early in July, I got a letter from Captain Matthews, who’d decided to sail Eureka back to Galveston for the careening. His reasoning, that the stores of rope and canvas and tar he would need were not available in Linnville, made sense to me so I’d told him to go ahead.

In the letter he said that the careening was nearly finished. He’d found out during the scraping that a few planks needed replacing, but the hull’s frames were sound. The caulking would take a few days longer, but after that the hull would be refloated. Loading the ballast and the scrubbed-out and refilled hogsheads of water would take another day, but as soon as that was finished he intended to use the longboat to tow Eureka into Galveston, where there was a hoist he could use to emplace the lower masts. Once they were secured in place by the shrouds and stays, the lower masts themselves would support the upper sections as they were hoisted into position and secured. The process was complicated and time-consuming, but at the same time commonplace. Ships facing major storms at sea not only reduced sail to ride out a blow, they sent down the topmasts and sometimes even the middle-masts. Doing so reduced the rolling that could overturn a ship and send her to the bottom.

He expected to finish sometime in late July, and after tensioning the new rigging to account for stretching, he intended to load cargo in Galveston and sail to Linnville. He expected to arrive around the first of August and suggested I might want to meet him there to go over his statement of expenses.

Jean-Louis had held on to his herd of mustangs, and now that the danger was over, he thought we should drive them to Linnville where he expected to find buyers. He suggested that the women take the cutter and asked me to bring some of my hands and help with the drive. Broken to ride the mustangs might be; wild at heart they still were, and apt to take off at any time unless the herders were watchful. I agreed to bring enough men to help, because they represented more than four months of hard work. Our finances were in reasonably good shape, but losing a herd that big would hurt. Herding the horses along would take longer, so we figured to head out two days early. The foreman would take over after we got there so that Jean-Louis and me could catch up to our families.

I had noticed during the times I was away that Milton was apt to take life easy while Jeff kept on working. Suspecting that he would do it again, I had a quiet talk with Jeff before I left. “I expect the work to go on as if I was right there, and I expect you to see it happens. If Milton gives you trouble, you let me know when I get back.”

“He won’t sass me, Jake. I’ve whopped him before and I can do it again if needful. It’s not that he’s lazy or a bad worker, it’s just that he can find a dozen things to think about. He’ll lay down what he was working on and go work on something else. Flighty, you might say, but it’s not all that bad. Lots of times he’ll figure out a better way of doing something. But I’ll watch him close this time.” I nodded, and as I rode off to join Jean-Louis, I realized that it wouldn’t be long before Jeff was ready to open a shop of his own, maybe in Linnville where, last I’d heard, there was no gun-shop.

After an early breakfast the next morning, the point rider gigged his horse and tugged on the rope of a docile old mare. She followed him down the road, and one by one, the herd walked over and fell in behind. I was on the left flank with my men, one in front and two behind me, keeping them bunched. Jean-Louis and three of his were on the right, while the drag riders came up behind and pushed the laggards along. There were always some that wanted just one more mouthful of grass, but within a few minutes, they had sorted themselves out and the herd was on the move.

Two days passed without incident.

On the morning of the third, Milton quietly laid down the disassembled shotgun he’d been working on and walked over to where their pistols lay on the end of the bench. Jeff glanced at him, but said nothing until Milton walked toward him with one of the pistols slightly extended, butt first.

“What in tarnation do you think you’re doing!” Jeff hissed.

“Grab your possibles bag, Cousin. I just spotted an Indian sneaking into the livery corral and if he’s not a Comanche, I’ll eat him feathers and all.”

Jeff nodded and took the pistol. He quietly closed the front door to the shop, then hung his powder horn and leather bag over his shoulders before picking up his rifle. No words were needed. Jeff kept watch through a loophole while Milton loaded the empty fifth chamber and stuck the pistol into his belt. Finished with his preparations, he took down his rifle and kept watch while Jeff followed suit.

“I don’t see him right now, but he’s there,” Milton said.

“We need to warn folks,” Jeff said, “because it’s likely he didn’t come by himself.”

“The shot when I fetch the one I spotted will do as well as any,” Milton said. “I’ll just slip over and do for him, and while I’m about it I want you to head over to Judge Garfield’s house and wait for me by the southwest corner. I ‘spect I’ll be running when I head back and it just might be that a Comanche or two will be on my heels, so make sure you don’t shoot me by mistake!”