Catlow (1963) Read Online Free
Author: Louis L'amour
comment. When he had last seen Johnny he'd had two good arms, but as far as he was concerned Johnny would be a top-hand under any circumstances.
Johnny glanced his way. "Hi, Ben. Anybody feed you?"
"Just woke up. The Old Man here gave me some special coffee."
Ben Cowan eased his wounded leg out from under the blankets. A thought struck him and he looked quickly around the camp. "You boys missed a day on account of me, didn't you?"
All the signs were there, the question needless. He knew what a camp looked like after a day, and after two days. He also knew how important it was to all of them to get this drive through on time--before Parkman or the law could interfere.
Johnny brought the pot over and refilled his cup. Ben stared bitterly at the coffee. Bijah was a wild one, but he was no thief ... at least, he never had been. Yet it was a time when many a man was being called an outlaw for slapping brands on cattle. To get away with that, you had to have a big outfit and breeding stock.
"We missed two days," Johnny commented, "one findin' you, one while you're restin' up."
Bijah came in when the guards changed. "Hiya, Shorthorn!" he said. "Surprised somebody hasn't shot that badge off you by now."
He squatted on his heels and studied Ben Cowan with a hard grin. "You packin' a warrant for me?"
"No. If I was, I'd serve it."
Bijah chuckled, and rolled a cigarette. "You ain't changed none." He touched his tongue to the paper. "We goin' to have trouble in Kansas?"
"You know Parkman."
Bijah lighted the cigarette with a stick from the fire. "Nine of us teamed to make this drive, and we rounded up the stock and did the branding. Johnny there, he lost his arm on the job, an' Nigger Jim was killed. Well, Jim left no kin that anybody knows of, but he thought a sight of that girl he was seeing down on the Leon River. Seemed to me we would take his share to her."
Ben Cowan accepted the plate he was handed, and then he said, "Bijah, you drive on to Abilene. When you're a few miles out, I'll ride in and see how things stand."
"I know Bear River Tom Smith," Merridew commented. "He's a reasonable man."
Cowan glanced at him. "Smith's dead. They've brought Wild Bill Hickok in as marshal."
Catlow looked up quickly. "The gunfighter? I've heard of him."
"He's the real thing, and don't forget it," Ben said. "A lot of the boys from down our way underrate him, but don't you make that mistake."
"I'm in too much trouble now," Bijah said. "I'm not riding into Kansas for anything but a chance to sell this herd."
Night threw a shadow on the world, and the night guard looked up from their horses to the circling stars and followed the pointers to the North Star, which was their guide to Kansas. Ben Cowan turned restlessly in his blankets easing his wounded leg against the throbbing pain. He stared up at the stars, reflecting again upon the strange destiny that seemed to tie his life to that of Bijah Catlow.
The thought worried him, for Catlow was a reckless man in many ways--never reckless of his life, although to the casual observer he might seem so, but reckless of the law. But in this case Ben Cowan, like many another Texan, believed Catlow was right, and the branding of mavericks was an old custom.
At dawn they were moving north, Ben Cowan riding his own horse, and easing his leg against the pain.
Bijah dropped back beside him. "Ben, I'm holdin' them west of the trail; figurin' we ain't so likely to run up against any trouble, that way."
"You duckin' trouble?"
"The boys have got too much at stake. We worked our tails off to get these steers together. Me, I don't care. Neither does the OH Man or Rio Bray; but Johnny, he's got to get him a stake out of this, now that he's left with only one arm."
They rode along a low hill upwind from the herd to stay free of the dust.
"He figures to start him a restaurant," Bijah went on.
"How about you?"
Catlow shot him a quick look. "You goin' to preach at me again? Damn it, Ben, you know I'm
Johnny glanced his way. "Hi, Ben. Anybody feed you?"
"Just woke up. The Old Man here gave me some special coffee."
Ben Cowan eased his wounded leg out from under the blankets. A thought struck him and he looked quickly around the camp. "You boys missed a day on account of me, didn't you?"
All the signs were there, the question needless. He knew what a camp looked like after a day, and after two days. He also knew how important it was to all of them to get this drive through on time--before Parkman or the law could interfere.
Johnny brought the pot over and refilled his cup. Ben stared bitterly at the coffee. Bijah was a wild one, but he was no thief ... at least, he never had been. Yet it was a time when many a man was being called an outlaw for slapping brands on cattle. To get away with that, you had to have a big outfit and breeding stock.
"We missed two days," Johnny commented, "one findin' you, one while you're restin' up."
Bijah came in when the guards changed. "Hiya, Shorthorn!" he said. "Surprised somebody hasn't shot that badge off you by now."
He squatted on his heels and studied Ben Cowan with a hard grin. "You packin' a warrant for me?"
"No. If I was, I'd serve it."
Bijah chuckled, and rolled a cigarette. "You ain't changed none." He touched his tongue to the paper. "We goin' to have trouble in Kansas?"
"You know Parkman."
Bijah lighted the cigarette with a stick from the fire. "Nine of us teamed to make this drive, and we rounded up the stock and did the branding. Johnny there, he lost his arm on the job, an' Nigger Jim was killed. Well, Jim left no kin that anybody knows of, but he thought a sight of that girl he was seeing down on the Leon River. Seemed to me we would take his share to her."
Ben Cowan accepted the plate he was handed, and then he said, "Bijah, you drive on to Abilene. When you're a few miles out, I'll ride in and see how things stand."
"I know Bear River Tom Smith," Merridew commented. "He's a reasonable man."
Cowan glanced at him. "Smith's dead. They've brought Wild Bill Hickok in as marshal."
Catlow looked up quickly. "The gunfighter? I've heard of him."
"He's the real thing, and don't forget it," Ben said. "A lot of the boys from down our way underrate him, but don't you make that mistake."
"I'm in too much trouble now," Bijah said. "I'm not riding into Kansas for anything but a chance to sell this herd."
Night threw a shadow on the world, and the night guard looked up from their horses to the circling stars and followed the pointers to the North Star, which was their guide to Kansas. Ben Cowan turned restlessly in his blankets easing his wounded leg against the throbbing pain. He stared up at the stars, reflecting again upon the strange destiny that seemed to tie his life to that of Bijah Catlow.
The thought worried him, for Catlow was a reckless man in many ways--never reckless of his life, although to the casual observer he might seem so, but reckless of the law. But in this case Ben Cowan, like many another Texan, believed Catlow was right, and the branding of mavericks was an old custom.
At dawn they were moving north, Ben Cowan riding his own horse, and easing his leg against the pain.
Bijah dropped back beside him. "Ben, I'm holdin' them west of the trail; figurin' we ain't so likely to run up against any trouble, that way."
"You duckin' trouble?"
"The boys have got too much at stake. We worked our tails off to get these steers together. Me, I don't care. Neither does the OH Man or Rio Bray; but Johnny, he's got to get him a stake out of this, now that he's left with only one arm."
They rode along a low hill upwind from the herd to stay free of the dust.
"He figures to start him a restaurant," Bijah went on.
"How about you?"
Catlow shot him a quick look. "You goin' to preach at me again? Damn it, Ben, you know I'm
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