Across the Rio Colorado by Ralph Compton Read Free Book Online Page B

it,” said McQuade. “I’ll see you at the creek.”
    McQuade rode back the way he had come. It would be worth feeding these cowboys, for surely they had come through Indian Territory, and could share any difficulties they had experienced. He reached the wagons while they were resting the teams and told of his meeting the oncoming herd.
    â€œThat’s something we hadn’t counted on,” said Will
Haymes. “I’ll feel better, hearin’ about what’s ahead, from somebody that’s been there.”
    â€œTexas can’t be all that uncivilized,” Gunter Warnell said, “if there are ranchers drivin’ their herds to market.”
    â€œHas there been any sign of Hook’s outfit?” McQuade asked.
    â€œWe ain’t seen ‘em,” said Ike Peyton. “Of course, we ain’t been lookin’ for ’em.”
    The wagons took the trail again, every man eager to reach the creek and hear what the Texans had to say. Not surprisingly, the Texas herd reached the creek well ahead of the wagons, and the cattle had been taken downstream to graze. McQuade guided his teamsters upstream, well beyond the cowboy camp, and there they circled the wagons. The cowboys gave them time to unhitch their teams and turn them out to graze. The women got the fires going and put the coffee on. The cowboys rode up, looped their reins to the wagon wheels, and entered the wagon circle.
    â€œFolks,” said McQuade, “this here’s Chad Guthrie. I’ll let him introduce his cowboys, while we’re waitin’ for supper.”
    â€œWe’re obliged for the supper invite,” Guthrie said. “I reckon the most godawful part of a drive, is us havin’ to eat our own cooking.”
    They laughed, and he introduced his cowboys. They were a cheerful lot, enjoying the coffee and the women who brought it to them.
    â€œWe’re bound for the Austin land grant, along the Rio Colorado,” said McQuade.
    â€œWe’re from east Texas,” Guthrie replied, “but we’ve heard of the Austin grant. Been some trouble down there, folks sellin’ their grants to speculators. Steve Austin kind of held things together, and when he died, some crooked dealin’ took place.”
    â€œI reckon we’ll have some fightin’ to do, once we get there,” said McQuade, “but for now, we’re a mite concerned with what’s ahead of us, between here and there. Indians and outlaws.”

    â€œIt’s the Kiowa while you’re in Indian Territory and the Comanche when you cross the Red into Texas,” Guthrie said. “We had to shoot some Comanches before we left Texas, and we had two brushes with the Kiowa while we was crossin’ Indian Territory. We give the Kiowa some cows, hopin’ they’d leave us alone, but the varmints come back durin’ the night and stampeded the herd. We found their camp, shot it all to hell, and ran off all their horses. Next mornin’, we rounded up our cows, includin’ what we give them. There was a second bunch layin’ for us, but we’d scouted ahead and found their tracks. Circlin’ around, we caught ‘em off guard, and purely discouraged ’em. Outlaws didn’t bother us, but we crossed a days-old trail of nearly two dozen horses, all of ’em shod.”
    â€œWe’d do well to scout far ahead of the wagons, then,” said McQuade.
    â€œThat’s what’s kept us alive,” Guthrie replied. “Know what’s ahead of you, and be prepared for it.”
    The cowboys thoroughly enjoyed the food, accepting the second helpings offered them. More coffee was put on to boil, and when the first watch had to return to the herd, the others—including Guthrie—remained for a while. Preoccupied with their guests, none of McQuade’s people noticed the arrival of Rufus Hook’s wagons. Not until the piano jangled into