Novel 1968 - Chancy (v5.0) by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour [L'Amour, Louis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Usenet
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 1968-11-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

AT THE SUTLER’S store we split our supplies, taking what we could pack on one horse. We left the other supplies with him, and turned the rest of our stock into his corral. Briefly, I explained what had happened, and left word with him for Tarlton if he should happen to come in before we did…if he was still alive.

We followed a south-bound trail. There was no use hunting for tracks until well away from the fort. Army patrols and folks coming and going would have trampled all sign into a mess of tracks imposed upon tracks.

Five miles south, when the tracks had thinned out, I described the tracks of Andy Miller’s horse and that big black of Kelsey’s to Cotton Madden and Handy Corbin. “We’ll camp tonight,” I said, “and in the morning Corbin will ride east and Cotton west. Five miles should do it. If either of you boys comes on the Kelsey lot, don’t start a war all by yourselves—cut the rest of us in on it.”

“You figure there’s been shootin’?” Cotton asked.

“I don’t know. Only Kelsey’s outfit seems to have a pattern of holding the main herd back in the hills, and driving a few head into town to sell. Like as not we’ll find the herd somewhere south of here.”

At daybreak, after a quick cup of coffee, we started out. When the others had gone, I taken my rifle from the scabbard and started south, leading the pack horse and studying the ground in long sweeps to right and left.

Now, most Indians travel by landmarks, and if a body can figure which landmarks an Indian is using, he can afford to pay little attention to tracks on the ground. But these were white men, not as canny at hiding a trail as an Indian is, yet smart enough not to be taken lightly.

I moved slowly south. The sun climbed into the sky, the day grew warm. I found occasional buffalo tracks, and several small herds of antelope started up and ran off, but I saw no tracks of riders. I studied the terrain with care, for I was wary of ambush.

Suddenly in the eastern sky there rose a trail of smoke. Dismounting, I hurriedly put together a few clumps of sage and lighted them to signal Cotton Madden, in case he had not seen the original smoke.

Corbin hadn’t waited. Cotton rode up shortly after I came up to where he had been, and we found the remains of the fire and an arrow of stones indicating the trail, which was a good fifty feet from the fire.

Corbin’s own trail was alongside the trail of the four riders and two pack horses. We started on at a trot, for that trail was a good three to four days old. Evidently they were not worried about being followed, for their tracks led straight away, and surely they had not reason to suspect we were anywhere around, nor anybody else who might be interested in following them.

They

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