The Walters Brothers

Three weeks before we got into gold country we stopped at a pretty fair sized town. Picking the best looking livery barn in town, we turned our horses into the corral. We had to hobble the stallion as he was still thinking he'd rather be back home but the mares were fine.

The owner came out and looked them over. "Fine looking animals. If you're interested in selling them talk to me first."

We told him we'd think about it and loafed around for two days before we got down to trading. I let Zeke handle that because if I'm honest here, I was a born sucker. All I needed was to hear a sob story and I'd give you the shirt off my back. Zeke didn't give a damn (well, he did really, but he projected being a hardass really well) if your wife was sick and you had seven kids you couldn't feed, he was going to get his price or he'd move on. In the end both parties allowed as they had both gotten something out of the deal and shook hands. I kind of hated letting that little stallion go but I didn't have the time to train him the way he needed so I let it be.

We idled along, and two days later we heard shots. It's odd, but most Westerners can tell a lot by listening to shots. A few shots popped off during a wild night in town won't register as much as the same amount of shots during a gunfight. There is a difference between a single hunter's shot and a volley loosed by a group of buffalo hunters. The shots we heard were fighting shots, a brief flurry, silence for a minute or two, then a single shot followed by another flurry. It sounded like two or three against one.

The landscape had changed as we'd ridden. Gone were the plains, replaced by verdant meadows and hills not quite big enough to be called a mountain, covered with trees and brush. We decided not to go into the situation blind so we secured the horses and donned the knee high moccasins Dolores had a squaw make for us. They were made by the Mountain Apache of Mexico, people who knew the value of sturdy footwear that didn't make any noise if it brushed against a branch. Seems Ma was kin from way back.

We took our time, easing over the ridge. There was a wagon there but I didn't see any horses. What I did see was a lone man lying under the wagon trying to keep up with three others as they closed in on him. I could see two more lying on the ground behind them. It was a pretty safe bet they wouldn't be gettin' up.

We got a little closer and could hear the yellin'.

"Give it up Yankee Boy. We got your hosses and before it's over we'll have the wagon. Stop shootin' and walk off and we'll let you go."

I could hear the grim humor in his voice as he spoke. "I got a better idea. You boys turn my horses loose, gather up your dead and leave before there's more."

That led to a round of cussing before the leader shouted back. "The hell with you. We'll just wait you out. You gotta sleep sometime."

"You can bet your ass I'll take at least one of you with me before I go. Which one of you wants to be the lucky feller? Step on up and let's get this over with."

He might have been talkin' to one but he was watching all of them. One got a mite brave and exposed himself. The rifle boomed, knocking him backwards. He didn't get up.

"Now it's down to fifty/fifty. Who's next?"

There was a lot of cussin' when they realized they were another man down. I looked at Zeke and grinned. That ol' boy had sand. He went left while I went right. Zeke eased along and it took him half an hour to get behind his man. He rose up like a ghost and put the butt of his rifle to the back of his neck. He dropped like a rock and Zeke tied him up.

By now I was behind the leader, less than ten feet away. He flinched when he heard the hammer go back. "You got a choice here. You can turn around and take your chances or you can drop that rifle in the dirt. You decide, but I ain't waitin' long."

He dropped the rifle and I made him toss his pistols beside of it. I raised up and hailed the wagon. "Hello the wagon! This is Brad Walters. My brother Zeke is out here too. It looks like you had a mite of trouble so we decided to step in. I'm comin' out of the brush now. I got the feller who was shootin' at you. Do not shoot!"

There was a minute of silence before he spoke. "Come out unarmed! Keep your hands where I can see them!"

"I'm comin' out but I'll be keepin' my weapons. I give up my guns, what's to keep this fool from runnin'?"

The man was hesitating, wondering if he could trust us, when Zeke spoke up. "You need to pay better attention mister. I walked right up behind you and you didn't notice a thing. Now to make us all happy how about you prop that rifle up against that wagon wheel. I'm going to call out and my brother is comin' in."

The man didn't look much older than Zeke but he was smart enough to know he'd been boxed. He sighed and slid the rifle against the wagon. Zeke hollered and I marched my captive out and tied him to a wagon wheel. Then we dragged the other feller Zeke had knocked out in and tied him to the same wheel.

Once he decided we weren't going to rob or kill him he warned up pretty fast. "I can't thank you enough. I was down to five shells and it was looking pretty bad. These boys came up on us at daylight, spooking our horses before we had them hitched up. It didn't take long until we were trading shots."

"Who's we?"

His eyes grew dim. "Me and my partner. He died in the wagon. Even though he was gut shot he hung on long enough to send one more of them to hell."

We helped him pull his partner out of the wagon. He didn't say another word, just grabbed a shovel and started diggin'. When he started movin' slow I took the shovel out of his hands and Zeke fed him coffee and got a plate of beans and biscuits into him.

It was about an hour before dark when we laid the man to rest. The man, Bob Cline, didn't have any words so Zeke said a few things. He'd pretty much memorized the whole Bible and could pull a piece of scripture out for just about any occasion. Satisfied, we went back to the men tied to the wagon.

The man Zeke had knocked cold came around and asked what we were going to do with them. Zeke grunted.

"Let's see, you attacked two innocent men and stole their horses, killed one and was workin' pretty hard on killin' the other when we showed up. Murderers and horse thieves, what usually happens to men who commit those crimes? You really have to ask?"

The leader went pale while I went to their horses and got their ropes. Only fitting I thought, as I fashioned the nooses, that they be hung from their own ropes. They started trying to bargain, promising anything to us if we'd let them go. He may as well have been talking to someone who didn't speak the language.

I asked Bob if he had a problem with what we were about to do.

"I haven't been out West long but I been here long enough. I don't intend to backtrack and waste weeks while they have the trial. I'll do it."

Well, it was his right. We asked them if there was anyone they needed to write to or if they couldn't write we'd do it for them. Neither said another thing so we carried them kicking and screaming to their horses.

"Any last words? No? Then I hope hell lives up to it's reputation!" Bob slapped the horses with his hat and they jumped forward, trotting a few feet before stopping. The heavier man got the best of the deal because his neck snapped immediately. The other man was a lot lighter and his horse didn't move as fast so he danced on air while he strangled.

We rolled into our blankets, taking turns at guard. We didn't know if they had friends that would come lookin'.

Bob was up before us, mixing up dough. He tossed it into some bacon grease. Fried bread ain't as good as biscuits, but it was mighty tasty right there on the trail. He'd bought a few dozen eggs back in town and he fried about a dozen up, then cooked up a pan of taters and onions. Mighty fine fare for the trail. We talked as we ate.

Bob and his partner were going to try looking for gold but were smart enough not to go into it blind. They'd bought the wagon and pooled their money, buying supplies the miners would need. Pickaxes, shovels, gold pans, that sort of thing. I looked in the wagon and it was only half full.

"Why didn't you fill it up?"

"Ran out of money. It don't go as far as you'd think out here. It was enough to give us a decent start and a cushion for supplies we might need later."

I looked at Zeke and knew what he was thinkin'. We had plenty of money relatively speaking, but it might be a good idea to add to our pile. The thought of makin' money before we panned our first dirt appealed to me.

First thing after breakfast we swept the area, dragging the dead in and laying them out under the men swinging on the ropes. There had been six of them but they didn't have over ten dollars between them. Bob and his partner made a mighty temptin' target. They did have six pretty good horses and three mules, each with almost empty pack saddles. Most of the pistols were decent, and two had almost brand new Winchesters, the '73 model. The rest were Yellowboys and one old Henry.

"What are we gonna do with their stuff?"

Zeke just grinned. "It ain't their stuff anymore, Bob. It's ours. A man tries to rob and kill you and loses, you're entitled to everything he leaves behind. I claim one of the newer Winchesters for my brother and if their weapons are better than yours you need to help yourself. I notice you ain't got a belt gun and this is the best of the lot. Strap it on and get used to it. You're probably going to need it."

Two matching Smith & Wessons that looked almost brand new were soon settled on his hips. Bob didn't argue and took the other '73 as well. "What do we do with the rest?"

"Sell it first chance we get. You might want to pick out the best horse and saddle. You won't be on that wagon seat forever."

There was a dun mare with good lines and a sweet disposition and on our advice he tied it to his wagon. He stood, not sure what to do next. Zeke grinned at him. "Bob, we don't know each other but we got a proposition for you. Your wagon is half empty and we got three pack mules with empty packs. What say we partner up and slide on back into town. We sell the horses and what guns we don't want and split the money. You take yours and buy what you want. When you're done we'll finish loadin' the wagon up and pay you to freight it for us. We'll also load the pack mules down, but that will be all ours. We'll travel together for safety and we'd have a vested interest in makin' sure you get to where you're going. Sound reasonable?"

He looked back and forth between us for a minute before stickin' out his hand. "Deal!"

We turned around and rode back the way we came. The town had a railroad stop and it was a lot cheaper to buy it there off the train than it would be in the gold fields. The railroad had agents on the train for this. They'd discharge the freight that had been prepaid, then open for business to try and get rid of the rest.

The first thing we did was go by to see the Sheriff. We told him about the robbery attempt and gave him a couple of letters we'd found. It identified three of them but as for the others, people went West and disappeared all the time. Maybe some mother somewhere in her old age would wonder what happened to her boy. Indians, stampedes, drunken brawls, flash floods, avalanches, rattlesnakes, or in their case criminal activity, all caused deaths that were never discovered or recorded. In our case, the men had tried to run a pat hand only to find they'd been holdin' a busted flush.

We were surprised when the Sheriff told us it was a shame we hadn't brought them in because there were rewards on two of them. Without proof he couldn't pay us. We didn't worry about it, going back to the livery where we'd sold our horses and offering the five from the outlaws to the owner. They weren't as good as what we had brought him the first time but with the tack we got a pretty decent price. Bob took his cut and bought more supplies and when he was done we finished it with picks, shovels, and plain pick heads. We bought as many of those as we could. The miners could make their own handles. We also added four barrels of flour.

We picked some pretty unusual items to load on the mules. One held dried apples, cinnamon, lard, and sugar. The other held ammunition. The last was carryin' mining supplies. We'd held on to the guns, knowing we could get twice the price in the fields as we could here.

It took three days before we were ready to travel. Once we got started though we made good time. We'd traveled six days seein' nothing but the land and each other when we ran into a group moving about fifty head of cattle. It wasn't much of a herd so we pulled up to let them pass.

One of the 'pokes broke from the herd and rode over to us. I was surprised to see it was a woman. I judged her to be in her forties but she looked and acted much younger, with a whipcord body and a direct way.

"Ya'll wouldn't be interested in buyin' some cows, would you?"

Zeke smiled as he doffed his hat. Bob and I quickly followed suit. "Not presently ma'am. You might try the town six days days back."

"Well then. Thank you kindly for your time." She turned to leave and something made me speak up.

"Ma'am, it's gettin' on towards dark. Why don't we camp close together? We'll even throw in dinner."

She looked me up and down before she grinned. "I believe I'll take you up on that. We're runnin' a bit short on rations and any meal we don't have to cook is a bonus. Let me bed the herd down."

Zeke grinned at me and offered to help. She did the same once over to him and nodded. "You look like you know which end of a cow is which. I'd appreciated the help."

Bob had remained silent until they drove away. Then he grinned. "You know how to cook?"

"A little. Drop that tailgate and get a fire goin'."

We'd had a Dutch oven full of beans goin' in the morning, and we wrapped it tightly and dropped it in to a box so it wouldn't tip over. They were mostly done. I hung them over the fire and got them going again, adding a couple of dried peppers for a little punch. I greased another smaller oven and tossed a few potatoes in it, sitting it on the edge of the fire and turning it every ten minutes or so. Halfway through I pulled it off the fire and checked for doneness. Then I added onions and carrots, a big chunk of beef jerky I'd shaved down, and filled it with water, sitting it directly on the fire. I got out the grill and set it over another fire, mixed up the dough, sprinkled it with cinammon, and took the apples I'd stewed that morning and made fried pies. It was all smellin' mighty tasty when Zeke and the woman's crew came in.

Bob kind of had his mouth hangin' open when I looked up. Her crew was all female, girls ranging from seventeen to fifteen to thirteen. All very pretty clones of her mother. Only one had her red hair, another was blond and the other had curly auburn locks. They seemed mighty embarrassed to be caught out in men's clothing but we never let on. I bowed to each as we were introduced. The youngest giggled and blurted out "I'm mighty pleased to meet you Mr. Walters. What smells so good?"

"You girls wash up and I'll show you."

All of them including the mother rode off about twenty yards to a little creek and disappeared behind some bushes. One stayed on guard, and when another finished they took over until they were all bathed and much more presentable.

They tried to nibble but I had the feeling they had missed a few suppers. "You girls eat up or you don't get dessert. I didn't cook all this food to let it go to waste."

They allowed as that the beans were the best they'd ever tasted and the stew really hit the spot. It looked like they had tears in their eyes when I brought out the pies. "Two each for all of us and three left over. You're guests so you get the extras but one of you is going to go without."

I was wrong about that. They practically inhaled the pies then carefully cut a fourth off each the excess, giving all the same amount. It made me feel good to watch such a closeknit family. I took the first watch with the redhead, the oldest daughter. We'd circle the small herd from opposite directions stopping to talk every time we crossed paths. It took several rotations before I got their story out of them.

Their father had passed over the winter from a fever and rustlers had hit them two months ago, taking the majority of their cattle. They'd worked the brush to find what was left and came up with almost three hundred head. Needing supplies in the worst way, they cut the fifty least desirable out and were making for town, to sell them for enough supplies to last the winter, maybe hire a hand or two to watch the herd while they built it up again.

Zeke rode with the youngest and Bob, despite having no idea what he was doing took the third watch with the middle daughter. Their mother was upset they let her sleep the night through but got over it.

Zeke and I rode out and had a little discussion. When we got back we laid it out for the ladies. "You can get three times the price you'd get in town at the gold fields. Ride along with us, we're going anyway. If your ranch isn't too far away swing by and pick up another fifty head. That should give you a cushion and maybe you'll pick up a few hands on the way back. Not everybody gets rich and some will be broke. I advise you to choose wisely, they obviously left somewhere to chase gold so they might be prone to do it again after they build a little stake up."

The ladies took their own ride and were gone for almost an hour before coming back in. "It's a deal. We expect to pay for your help though. We'll give you the price we get for ten of the steers in exchange for your help. Make that fifteen, five for each of you."

I knew we would have done it for free but Zeke knew he had to let them keep their pride, intending to keep the cattle instead of selling them. It would be our own source of food when the snows hit and we could freeze the beef.

We left Bob and the youngest with the wagon and herd. They had a pretty place, probably about five thousand acres with good water and graze with the house in the middle of a little valley. It didn't take us long to gather up some cattle. Another 75 head would give the ladies a lot of breathing room. On our advice she gathered up a dozen more horses, to use as a remuda and hopefully to sell when we got to the diggin's.

I rode with the mother on the way back and she talked about their life. "My husband dearly wanted sons but all I threw were girls. He loved them but couldn't hide his disappointment. We tried for more children, but I think my body had had enough. Still we had a nice little spread and were doing so well when the girls got old enough we let the hands go to increase our profit.

I don't know where he got the fever but it took him quick. The girls and I kept a fire going for four days, thawing the ground so we could lay him to rest. We grieved but held on, planning a little drive to earn enough money for winter supplies and maybe hire a hand or two. I guess we were just too easy a target for the rustlers. They were gone three days before we went out ot check on that herd. I had three girls, Mr. Walters. I couldn't very well go after them. It still galls me but there's nothing I can do about it now. We only had the shotgun, a rifle, and one pistol so even if we could have found them we couldn't have put up much of a fight."

"For what it's worth, Miz Parsons, you made the right choice. You couldn't expose your girls to danger. Most all out here respect women, but who knows what an outlaw might do?"

She smiled, touching the almost new Peacemaker at her hip. The outlaws we'd killed had fourteen pistols, two shotguns, and eight rifles between them. Out here, you could never have too many in case you didn't have time to reload. Bob got the two Smith & Wessons and one '73. I got the other but it left plenty to choose from.