How The West Was Won by Louis L'amour

Author:Louis L'amour
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-07-19T16:45:23+00:00

Chapter 13

Carrying his empty canteen, Zeb Rawlings made his way through the trees. The smell of death mingled with the scent of peach blossoms and the cool dampness of night.

He almost fell over the body of a dead man and had scarcely recovered his balance when a voice near him spoke. “You tasted this water yet?” “No.”

“Try it.”

Zeb cupped his hand in the pool where the spring emptied and took a tentative swallow. He heard others coming through the woods toward the spring and the creek into which it flowed.

“Taste funny?”

“It does ... sort of.”

“I seen it before sundown. It was pink, pinker’n sassafras tea.” Zeb gagged, drawing back from the water. He hung his empty canteen back on his belt, and the soldier came nearer.

“Don’t seem fittin’ a man should have to drink water like this. In fact, it don’t seem fittin’ a man should do a lot of the things we done today. Did you kill anybody?”

“I don’t think so,” Zeb said. “We had just run up when a shell exploded, and when I could see for the smoke and dirt I’d lost my gun, and then a horse soldier stuck me in the arm with a sword ... up by the shoulder, here. The rest is all mixed up. Somebody hit me with the butt of a gun, and when I came to, the fightin’ was over.”

“I ain’t kilt nobody neither, and I don’t aim to. Where you from?”

“Below the falls of the Ohio.”

“This fool war started back east. What’s us westerners doin’ in it, anyways?” “It ain’t like I expected. There ain’t much glory in seein’ men’s guts hangin’ out. Where you from?”

“Texas.”

Zeb drew back slowly. “Say, you ain’t a Reb, are you?”

“I was this mornin’. Tonight I ain’t so sure.”

“Seems like I oughta be shootin’ at you.”

“You got anything to shoot with?” the man asked mildly. “I got a pistol. Took it off’n a dead officer.”

“I’ve got a bayonet.”

“Look ... why don’t we skedaddle out of here? Leave this here war to those that want it.”

Zeb hesitated. “They say there’s no war in California.” His thoughts returned to his mother, and he remembered her trying so desperately to make him listen, that letter from Aunt Lilith in her hand. And all the time she knew he had to go. Together they moved away from the river. The Texan leaned closer to Zeb.

“There’s a spring over yonder. I seen some Yankee officers drinking there.” Once they paused to let some stretcher-bearers pass, and afterward, hearing voices, they stopped at the edge of a clearing. Two men with their backs to them were seated on a fallen log some distance away. Even in the dim light there was something familiar about them to Zeb.

“I’m planning to move Rousseau’s brigade to this place. They can be situated well before dawn. Do you approve?”

“I’ll approve any dispositions you want to make. If you hadn’t held the flank today we’d have been whipped for fair.” The speaker hesitated. “Sherman, there’s something I want to say to you.

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