Trail Of the Apache and Other Stories (1951) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Elmore Leonard
were the only pleasant tones to redeem the ragged, wild look of the valley.
He pressed his heels into his horse's n1/4eanks and rode up abreast of Travisin. The climate and the unyielding country were grinding de Both's nerves raw; he wanted to scream at somebody, anybody.
I sincerely hope you know where you're going, Captain.
Travisin ignored the sarcasm. You'll feel better after we camp this evening. First day's always the toughest. He was silent for a few minutes, his head swinging in an arc studying the signs that did not even exist to de Both, and then he added, Those mountains up ahead are the Sierra Apaches. Lot farther than they look. Before we pass them we're going to camp at a rancher's place. His name's Solomon, a really fine old gentleman. I think you'll like him, Bill. It was the first time Travisin had used de Both's first name. The lieutenant looked at him strangely.
It was close to six o'clock when they reached the road leading to Solomon's place. The road cut an arc through the brush n1/4eat and then passed through a grove of cottonwoods. From where they stood, they could see the roof of the ranch house through the clearing in the trees made by the road. The house stood a few hundred yards the other side of the cottonwoods, and just to the right of it a few acres of pines edged toward the house from the foothills of the Sierra Apaches towering to the east. Fry pointed to the wide path of trampled brush a hundred feet to the left of the road they were following.
There's one I wouldn't care to try to figure out.
Why didn't they take the road?
Travisin was watching Ningun circle the cottonwoods and head back. They're making it a bit too easy now, he replied idly.
Ningun made his report to Fry and pointed above the cottonwoods in the direction of the pines. A f aint wisp of dark smoke curled skyward in a thin line. Against the glare it was hardly noticeable.
Know what that means? Travisin asked. He looked at no one in particular.
Fry answered, I got an idea.
They dismounted in the cottonwoods and approached the clearing on foot. The ranch house, barn and corral behind it seemed deserted.
Travisin said, Go take a look, Barney. Fry beckoned to four of the Apache scouts and they followed him into the clearing. They walked across the open space toward the house slowly, all abreast.
Trail of the Apache They made no attempt to conceal themselves by crouching or hunching their shoulders a natural instinct, but futile precaution with no cover in sight. They walked perfectly erect with their carbines out in front. Suddenly they all stopped and one of the scouts dropped to his hands and knees and put his ear to the earth. He arose slowly, and the others back at the cottonwoods saw them watching the pines more closely as they approached the house. Fry walked up to the log wall next to the front door and placed his ear to it. He made a motion with his right hand and three of the scouts disappeared around the corner of the house. Without hesitating, Fry approached the front door, kicked it open and darted into the dimness of the interior, the fourth Apache scout behind him. In a few moments, Fry reappeared in the doorway and waved to the rest in the cottonwoods.
He was still in the doorway when Travisin brought the others up. Just the missus is inside w as all he said.
Travisin, with de Both behind him, walked past the scout into the dimly lit ranch house. The room was a shambles, every piece of furniture and china broken. But what checked their gaze was Mrs.
Solomon lying in the middle of the n1/4eoor. Her clothes had been almost entirely ripped from her body and the n1/4eesh showing was gouged and slashed with knife wounds. Her scalp had been torn from her head.
De Both stared at the dead woman with a frozen gaze. Then the revulsion of it overcame him and he half turned to escape into the fresh air outside. He checked himself, thinking then of Travisin, and turned back to the room. The captain and the scout
He pressed his heels into his horse's n1/4eanks and rode up abreast of Travisin. The climate and the unyielding country were grinding de Both's nerves raw; he wanted to scream at somebody, anybody.
I sincerely hope you know where you're going, Captain.
Travisin ignored the sarcasm. You'll feel better after we camp this evening. First day's always the toughest. He was silent for a few minutes, his head swinging in an arc studying the signs that did not even exist to de Both, and then he added, Those mountains up ahead are the Sierra Apaches. Lot farther than they look. Before we pass them we're going to camp at a rancher's place. His name's Solomon, a really fine old gentleman. I think you'll like him, Bill. It was the first time Travisin had used de Both's first name. The lieutenant looked at him strangely.
It was close to six o'clock when they reached the road leading to Solomon's place. The road cut an arc through the brush n1/4eat and then passed through a grove of cottonwoods. From where they stood, they could see the roof of the ranch house through the clearing in the trees made by the road. The house stood a few hundred yards the other side of the cottonwoods, and just to the right of it a few acres of pines edged toward the house from the foothills of the Sierra Apaches towering to the east. Fry pointed to the wide path of trampled brush a hundred feet to the left of the road they were following.
There's one I wouldn't care to try to figure out.
Why didn't they take the road?
Travisin was watching Ningun circle the cottonwoods and head back. They're making it a bit too easy now, he replied idly.
Ningun made his report to Fry and pointed above the cottonwoods in the direction of the pines. A f aint wisp of dark smoke curled skyward in a thin line. Against the glare it was hardly noticeable.
Know what that means? Travisin asked. He looked at no one in particular.
Fry answered, I got an idea.
They dismounted in the cottonwoods and approached the clearing on foot. The ranch house, barn and corral behind it seemed deserted.
Travisin said, Go take a look, Barney. Fry beckoned to four of the Apache scouts and they followed him into the clearing. They walked across the open space toward the house slowly, all abreast.
Trail of the Apache They made no attempt to conceal themselves by crouching or hunching their shoulders a natural instinct, but futile precaution with no cover in sight. They walked perfectly erect with their carbines out in front. Suddenly they all stopped and one of the scouts dropped to his hands and knees and put his ear to the earth. He arose slowly, and the others back at the cottonwoods saw them watching the pines more closely as they approached the house. Fry walked up to the log wall next to the front door and placed his ear to it. He made a motion with his right hand and three of the scouts disappeared around the corner of the house. Without hesitating, Fry approached the front door, kicked it open and darted into the dimness of the interior, the fourth Apache scout behind him. In a few moments, Fry reappeared in the doorway and waved to the rest in the cottonwoods.
He was still in the doorway when Travisin brought the others up. Just the missus is inside w as all he said.
Travisin, with de Both behind him, walked past the scout into the dimly lit ranch house. The room was a shambles, every piece of furniture and china broken. But what checked their gaze was Mrs.
Solomon lying in the middle of the n1/4eoor. Her clothes had been almost entirely ripped from her body and the n1/4eesh showing was gouged and slashed with knife wounds. Her scalp had been torn from her head.
De Both stared at the dead woman with a frozen gaze. Then the revulsion of it overcame him and he half turned to escape into the fresh air outside. He checked himself, thinking then of Travisin, and turned back to the room. The captain and the scout
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