Chapter 3

Sometimes it's funny, the things you'll do just for the hell of it, especially after you've just come into more money than you really need. There was nothing inherently wrong with the 8mm Mauser, but there were no solid advantages for me either, except for the excellent action. After I'd paid good money for the custom barrel about three years ago, it was the equal of a 30-06, accuracy wise, for my skills anyway. What it wasn't, was a rifle you'd normally put such an expensive scope on.

Given equal bullet weights, I could load rounds to match 30-06 ballistics, there just weren't that many bullet weights to choose from for the Mauser, it wasn't as versatile. No matter though, I almost never had a shot over two hundred yards, because if I did, I'd try to get closer.

What the hell, the new scope could fit any rifle I wanted to buy, and if the Mauser became a problem, I could always put a Redfield 4x12 on it and hang it on the wall. Without a doubt, it looked impressive.

After I was satisfied, I rode Joe Bob back to the house. Tying him to the hitch rail, I loosened the saddle girth and escorted Jasper out into the hall to put the packsaddle rig on him. Jeffry looked like I'd slapped his jaws so I got him out and rigged him up too.

A little looking around let me find some heavy-duty plastic trash bags. I think they were leftover leaf bags that Chuck and Dave might have used to haul off the clippings after the mowing, since I'd noticed that the yard looked like it had been raked after it was mowed. Who ever heard of raking up the clippings when you mowed an acre of what was essentially a pasture?

Anyway, I took the bags and loaded up about twenty pounds of whole oats in each of the eight that were left, using them as filler for Jasper's and Jeffry's packsaddles. Hooking Jeffry's lead rope to Jasper's harness gave me a mule train of two, and after retightening Joe Bob's girth, I mounted and took off for another trial run.

A ride down to George's house let me check out my camping rig and all parties involved were on good behavior. George came out of the big barn as I rode up and looked over my two-mule train.

"Hell, you look like you know what you're doing," he said.

"At least I've still got enough on the ball to fool you."

"We'll see, are you headed out to give the coyotes a look?"

"Not yet. I wanted to make sure they'd all work together, more or less in line. Right now I'm headed back to the range to find out how Joe Bob likes being a gun platform, in case I end up having to shoot from the saddle," I said.

"Have ya et yet?" he asked.

"Not since breakfast, but I seem to remember someone making sure I did my share then," I said, smiling.

"We just finished lunch not long ago, but if you'll promise to ride back by here, I'll bet I can arrange for a couple of sandwiches to be waiting for you," he said.

"I'm not asking for a free meal, you understand, but I will come back by and if there's food around that no one else has spoken for, I will eat it just to help you and Ethel out."

Since I wasn't smart enough to think ahead this morning, I had to dismount and put up new targets and then ride back out a little. When Joe Bob felt me pull the Mauser out of the saddle scabbard he seemed to get really still.

I'd seen horses do this before and they were usually getting set to tense up and jump at the loud noise they already knew was coming. It often happened with a horse that had been fired from before and didn't like it worth a shit. I made the best preparations I could for a wild ride and then fired in the general direction of the backstop.

I had underestimated Joe Bob. He hadn't started trembling and twitching his skin like I'd expected. Thinking it over, it was almost as if he were being still so I'd have a good shot. That couldn't be it though, horses just aren't that smart.

I went ahead and took a couple of real shots then, and there weren't any problems, except for the scope waving all over the place because I just couldn't hold it steady enough without a rest.

I rode down to the targets and saw that I'd at least got every one of the shot on the paper somewhere. On my next try, I dialed the scope back down to its lowest setting - four power - and rode out to try again.

My shooting was vastly improved and there even seemed to be groups on the targets now instead of just flyers everywhere.

For my last try I rode off about a quarter of a mile and trotted back toward the targets, pulling the rifle without reining in and then stopping Joe Bob and his mule train at my best guess of a hundred yards from the targets. He firmed up and got still at once and the shooting was as good as it had been from an intentional stop.

That was as good as I could expect but the Mauser just wasn't a saddle gun. I didn't plan to be shooting from Joe Bob's back anyway, but if it came up, the scoped Mauser would be a poor second to a saddle gun with iron sights.

When you're aiming through a scope, you can't help but try to correct when you get off target. The higher you have the magnification dialed up, the worse off you are, especially when you don't have a steady position.

Even with Joe Bob trying to stand still, and me trying to hold a steady aim, the scope was doing more to hurt than to help in this situation. It would have been better if I could dial it back to no magnification, but it wasn't intended for this type of shooting. The best I could do from the saddle was plainly a work-around.

I cleaned up my mess, collecting all the used targets and putting them in Joe Bob's saddlebags. Then I rode back to George's house to see if a late lunch had appeared as advertised.

I tied my little train out by the barn and loosened Joe Bob's girth again. George came out to ask me how things had gone.

"Joe Bob must have been fired off of more than I'd thought," I said.

"Not really, we give every horse we ride an introduction but as far as I know, that's all he's had," he said.

"Funny, he did so well the first time that I thought it was a lie and got ready for a good ride. It wasn't though. He seemed like he knew what I was doing and was trying to help," I said.

"That's funny. I know he's smart, but he ain't that smart," George said, leading me toward the house all the while.

Ethel had two big roast beef sandwiches waiting for me, and she seemed genuinely happy to see me. She poured me a big glass of milk when I sat down and she sat with George and I while I ate.

"I'm happy to see someone who knows what he's doing going after those damned coyotes. We've had two different men come out to hunt them and I knew from the start neither one would do anything useful.

"It was bad enough when they were bothering the stock, but for about the last week they've been getting close enough so their yipping at night is waking me up," she said.

"Well John can't do miracles, Ethel," George said.

"I know that, and you needn't look so smug just because you can sleep through a tornado. Even if he just rides out close to 'em they'll back off for a few days," she said.

"I hadn't thought about that," George said.

"Of course you hadn't, I would never have married you if you weren't a man, and momma told me that not thinking about it was what men were best at," she said, and then softened the blow by laughing at George.

I couldn't help it, I had to laugh too, and then George couldn't stop himself.

"Well, if your momma said it, I believe it. If it weren't for her, God rest her soul, and you - I'd be a hand on somebody else's ranch instead of the boss, kinda, of my own," George said.

"And you can quit trying to sweet talk me at the table. You're not gettin' another thing to eat until suppertime. John missed his lunch workin' and that's why he's eatin' now. If I remember right, you didn't miss out on a bite.

"I guess I could make some coffee though," she said, getting out of her chair to do it.

"Well, it wasn't exactly real work?" I said.

"Yes it was. You were making sure the rifle would hit what you aimed at weren't you?"

"That's exactly what I was doing, that and making sure Joe Bob would stand still for it," I said.

"Ain't no different from a man sharpening his axe before he has to cut firewood. You was making sure your tools were ready," she said, brooking no more argument.

She poured us all a cup of coffee and we talked more while we drank it. I mentioned that I'd decided my Mauser wasn't much as a saddle gun and Ethel spoke up.

"George, have you ever even shot that gun Chuck and Dave gave you for Christmas two years ago?" she asked.

"No, and it's a fine saddle gun, a Marlin 30-30. John, why don't you give it a whirl if you've got time? I think I've got a saddle scabbard for it too," he said.

"It's what I'd have gone to town looking for this afternoon. I don't care much for lever guns, but Marlin does the best job with them in my opinion.

"Do you think Chuck and Dave will mind? You said it was a gift to you."

"They won't mind a bit, especially if you get some coyotes. The foal they killed was for the boys and they don't think coyotes are one bit of fun now," George said.

I agreed to see if I could try it out, and the coffee klatch broke up when he came back with the brand new Marlin 336c. George and I went off to the tack room and he found a saddle scabbard for it almost right away. It was a little odd to me that it matched the rough out leather of my saddle, the same as the scabbard for the Mauser had.

I didn't usually give much thought to happy coincidences, but it was just odd that there were two saddle scabbards that matched my saddle so perfectly, especially since it was the only saddle I'd seen around here that was rough out. In fact, it was the only rough out saddle I'd ever seen, except in a catalog or something.

I moved the Mauser's scabbard over to the right side and put the Marlin's on the left, since it would be the one I'd want to get out fast. After retightening Joe Bob's girth, I led him to the house while George went back inside to find the cartridges he'd said he had.

He came back with ten boxes of Hornady one-seventy grain flat nose. I loaded the Marlin and put the rest in Joe Bob's bags.

We made another trip to the range and I started out twenty-five yards from the new targets I put up, and worked my way back adjusting as I went.

I had the Marlin sighted for dead on at a hundred yards in about an hour and then Joe Bob, me, and the mules made a couple of strafing passes. The lever gun worked a lot better for this. I could get on target a lot faster with the iron sights and even got better groups from the saddle than I had with the Mauser.

I went back to George's house again and this time I arrived at mealtime. They were about to sit down to supper and I didn't mind joining them at all. After we were done I told them I'd be taking off around midnight probably. One of the hands, Carl, said he'd seen some new sign today and when I asked, he told me where. George, Bob, Carl, and I slipped off to the office and Carl showed me where he'd seen it on the map.

I rode home after that, tended to my stock, and then went in for a little sleep. I woke at midnight, fixed a quick breakfast, and then headed to the barn. I gave Joe Bob, Jeffry, and Jasper a scoop of oats and then went to the house to get the saddlebags and the two rifles. I'd packed the saddlebags with enough food for at least a night and a day, even though I didn't plan on staying out tonight.

There was a full moon when I left the house and within an hour and a half I had Joe Bob hobbled with the mules still in line and tied off to the saddle horn. I'd already decided they were well trained enough to keep from making a fuckup out of things while I was occupied.

In the dark, moving the last four hundred yards to the place I wanted to watch from was a bitch, even with a full moon. If I ended up doing much of this I intended getting a pair of night vision goggles. I didn't fall down during my trip but I did stumble more than once.

I found a good place to crawl under a bush and thought I had a good field of fire. It was more of a pain in the ass using the Mauser's scope for spotting than I'd expected, and the night vision goggles were looking, or sounding, better all the time.

Of course, I was in place too early, and I lay out on the ground for two hours. Too early was better than too late though, and I was excited and happy when I saw three coyotes coming near at about four thirty AM.

When they were within a hundred and fifty yards I couldn't stand it anymore. I took a shot, worked the bolt, and when I looked again there were still two of 'em standing. I guessed they had been so surprised that they hadn't figured out where I was yet. I was able to get another one and counted myself lucky as hell when only the third ran off.

Damn, I was nearly as happy as when I shot my first buck at age fourteen. I also knew I'd been damned lucky and I figured that the coyotes had given up on paying attention since no one had been really bothering them. I went back to Joe Bob and the mules, and after taking the hobbles off him, I mounted up and rode over to find the dead meat.

They'd both dropped right where I shot them so it wasn't a job. I had some nylon sash cord in one of Joe Bob's bags so I cut off a few feet and tied the coyotes together by the neck, slinging them over and onto Jasper's packsaddle, and then tying them down. He didn't like it but he didn't raise a ruckus. We headed for George's house.

Ethel was out the back door like a shot when she saw me ride up. She hugged my neck and kissed me on the cheek when she noticed what Jasper was carrying.

"I knew damned well you were going to get rid of those things for me. You have got a lot of breakfast coming as soon as it's ready," she said, heading back into the house.

George had been in the barn when I came up and when he'd seen Jasper's freight he called back into it for Jake, one of their hands.

"Mind if I let Jake skin 'em out?" George asked, when he reached me.

"Not a bit, they're all yours as far as I'm concerned. I plan on bringing ya some more later on," I said.

"Well, that will shore help Ethel's feelings. She woke up when you fired the first shot and nearly hollered that you'd got one and when you shot again she got out of bed and got dressed, she was so happy she didn't even try to go back to sleep. I guess they've been bothering her more than I knew," George said.

"I was lucky as hell this morning and I'm not sure I will be every time," I said.

"Nobody's lucky every time. Hell, life wouldn't be no fun if you were. Did you get 'em with the Mauser or the Marlin," he asked.

"The Mauser. I couldn't even have seen 'em without that night vision scope, and that's another thing, can you really buy things off the Internet?" I asked.

"We do it all the time, but ya just have to be sure about who you're sending your credit card number to. We usually only buy from pretty well known places with a card. If we're not sure about 'em, we send a money order. Were ya needin' to order somethin'?"

"I wanted to check out some night vision goggles. The scope worked out ok, but it's not much good for scanning around in the dark," I said.

"If you know who makes 'em they won't be hard to find."

Ethel stuck her head out the door and called George and me inside. Nobody else was at the table yet, but she was pouring three cups of coffee, and it was clear she wanted to sit down, and I figured she wanted the whole story. I was right.

"George, right after breakfast I want you and Bob to find him the best night vision truck you can, and see if they can deliver them yesterday; tell Jake to get those hides in shape to be stuffed. I think I'll have a few of the little darlin's right here in the house. Do you remember the name of that boy that's tryin' to learn to taxidermy?" she asked.

"Naw, I can't call it, but I know right where to find him. He works at the wood yard in Jefferson, the one right by the Burford railroad switch," he said.

"Good, I want you to go down there and see about him mountin' 'em for me. He did a good job on a Bobcat for the Lummus boy, made it look like the cat was hunting. I want 'em done like that," she said.

I could tell they would be done exactly like that, whichever way it was. When she said frog, George jumped. I'm sure it was because she had control over most of his food, and all of his pussy.

People started drifting in for breakfast about then. Ethel got up to help the other three women get it ready and we men got to drink coffee and shoot the shit for about ten minutes before it started showing up.