Lonely On the Mountain (1980) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Louis - Sackett's 19 L'amour
Sure. Odd you should speak of him. Last time I heard tell of him, he was headed north." "Mind the time he went to the sing over at Wilson's Cove? He fell head over heels for some visitin' gal from down in the Sequatchie and went at it, knuckle and skull, with some big mule skinner.
"I remember he come back, and he got out what he used to call his
"ree-volver", and he said, "That ol' boy's give me trouble, so I'm a gonna take my ol' ree-volver an' shoot some meat off his bones." He done it, too." We rounded up our steers in the almost flat bottom of that valley and let them graze on the stand of last year's grass. There was green showin' all about, but mostly what they could get at was cured on the stem. There was water a-plenty, and this seemed like a good time to rest up a mite.
Cap killed a buffalo, a three-year old cow, on the slope above the river, so we had fresh meat. The boys bunched the cattle for night, and Cap said, "We'd best start lookin' for windy hills for campin'. The way I hear it, up north where there's all those rivers, lakes, and such, there's mosquitoes like you wouldn't believe. Eat a man alive, or a horse." "Mosquitoes?" I said. "Hell, I've seen mosquitoes. Down on the Sulphur--" "Not like the ones they have up north," Cap said.
"You mind what I say, Tell. When you hear stories of them, you'll swear they're lies.
Well, they ain't. You leave a horse tied out all night and chances are he'll be dead by morning." Me, I looked over at him, but he wasn't smiling. Whether he knew what he was talkin' about, I didn't know, but he wasn't funnin'.
He was downright serious.
There were mosquitoes there on the Pipestem, but we built a smudge, and it helped some.
Nobody talked much, but we lazed about the fire, takin' our turn at watching over the cattle.
The remuda we kept in close to camp where we could all more or less keep an eye on it.
What Indians wanted most of all was horses, and without them we'd be helpless.
A time or two, I walked out under the stars, away from the campfire and what talk there was, just to listen.
There was no sound but the cattle stirring a mite here and there, rising or lying down, chewing their cuds, occasionally standing up to graze a bit. It was still early.
Later, when I was a-horseback on the far side of the herd, I thought I caught a whiff of wood smoke that came from a different direction than our fire. Well, if they were riding in our shadow, they were no bother, and it was all right with us.
Gave a body a kind of re/l feeling, just knowing he wasn't alone out there.
This was a lovely valley, already turning green with springtime, but it was a valley in a great wide open country where we rode alone, where we had no friends, and if trouble came, we'd have to handle it all by our lonesome. There wasn't going to be anybody coming to help.
Not anybody at all.
Chapter IV
For two days, we rested where the Pipestem met the James, holding the cattle on the grass at the edge of the woods and gathering fallen limbs and dead brush for firewood.
"Pleasant place," Tyrel said. "I hate to leave." Gilcrist glanced over at me. "We pulling out?" "Just before daybreak. Get a good night's sleep." Gilcrist finished his coffee and got up.
"Come on, Ox, let's relieve mama's boy and the old man." Tyrel glanced at me, and I shrugged. Lin straightened up from the fire, fork in hand. The Ox caught his expression. "Something you don't like, yellow boy?" Lin merely glanced at him and returned to his work.
The Ox hesitated, glancing over at me where I sat with my coffee cup in my hands; then he went to his horse, mounted, and followed Gilcrist.
"If we weren't short-handed," I said to Tyrel, "he'd get his walkin' papers right now." "Sooner or later," Tyrel agreed. Then he added, "The other one fancies himself with a gun." By first light, we were headed down the trail, climbing out of the valley and heading north. A few miles later, I began angling off to the northwest, and by sundown we had
"I remember he come back, and he got out what he used to call his
"ree-volver", and he said, "That ol' boy's give me trouble, so I'm a gonna take my ol' ree-volver an' shoot some meat off his bones." He done it, too." We rounded up our steers in the almost flat bottom of that valley and let them graze on the stand of last year's grass. There was green showin' all about, but mostly what they could get at was cured on the stem. There was water a-plenty, and this seemed like a good time to rest up a mite.
Cap killed a buffalo, a three-year old cow, on the slope above the river, so we had fresh meat. The boys bunched the cattle for night, and Cap said, "We'd best start lookin' for windy hills for campin'. The way I hear it, up north where there's all those rivers, lakes, and such, there's mosquitoes like you wouldn't believe. Eat a man alive, or a horse." "Mosquitoes?" I said. "Hell, I've seen mosquitoes. Down on the Sulphur--" "Not like the ones they have up north," Cap said.
"You mind what I say, Tell. When you hear stories of them, you'll swear they're lies.
Well, they ain't. You leave a horse tied out all night and chances are he'll be dead by morning." Me, I looked over at him, but he wasn't smiling. Whether he knew what he was talkin' about, I didn't know, but he wasn't funnin'.
He was downright serious.
There were mosquitoes there on the Pipestem, but we built a smudge, and it helped some.
Nobody talked much, but we lazed about the fire, takin' our turn at watching over the cattle.
The remuda we kept in close to camp where we could all more or less keep an eye on it.
What Indians wanted most of all was horses, and without them we'd be helpless.
A time or two, I walked out under the stars, away from the campfire and what talk there was, just to listen.
There was no sound but the cattle stirring a mite here and there, rising or lying down, chewing their cuds, occasionally standing up to graze a bit. It was still early.
Later, when I was a-horseback on the far side of the herd, I thought I caught a whiff of wood smoke that came from a different direction than our fire. Well, if they were riding in our shadow, they were no bother, and it was all right with us.
Gave a body a kind of re/l feeling, just knowing he wasn't alone out there.
This was a lovely valley, already turning green with springtime, but it was a valley in a great wide open country where we rode alone, where we had no friends, and if trouble came, we'd have to handle it all by our lonesome. There wasn't going to be anybody coming to help.
Not anybody at all.
Chapter IV
For two days, we rested where the Pipestem met the James, holding the cattle on the grass at the edge of the woods and gathering fallen limbs and dead brush for firewood.
"Pleasant place," Tyrel said. "I hate to leave." Gilcrist glanced over at me. "We pulling out?" "Just before daybreak. Get a good night's sleep." Gilcrist finished his coffee and got up.
"Come on, Ox, let's relieve mama's boy and the old man." Tyrel glanced at me, and I shrugged. Lin straightened up from the fire, fork in hand. The Ox caught his expression. "Something you don't like, yellow boy?" Lin merely glanced at him and returned to his work.
The Ox hesitated, glancing over at me where I sat with my coffee cup in my hands; then he went to his horse, mounted, and followed Gilcrist.
"If we weren't short-handed," I said to Tyrel, "he'd get his walkin' papers right now." "Sooner or later," Tyrel agreed. Then he added, "The other one fancies himself with a gun." By first light, we were headed down the trail, climbing out of the valley and heading north. A few miles later, I began angling off to the northwest, and by sundown we had
Readers choose
Patrick Astre
Kathryn Le Veque
The Nomad Harp
Lyndon Stacey
Chris Carter
Elly Griffiths
Jodi Thomas
John Connolly