Day of the Dog (Lucky Five) by Ron Schwab

Author:Ron Schwab [Schwab, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Uplands Press
Published: 2022-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Late afternoon, Irish approached what he thought was the Sandy River. He dismounted with the thought of leading the horses to the riverside to drink. Then he caught sight of charred remnants of a campfire and wagon tracks departing and reentering the main trail that told him the Lucky Five Crew had camped there. But what most caught his attention was a recently dug grave at the base of a nearby tree. He walked over to the mound of dirt and saw that bark had been cut out about knee-high on the tree, and in the underlying wood was crudely carved the year “1876” and the name “C Dary.”

Coop. Coop is buried here. He looked out over the surrounding prairie and saw two other mounds and led his horses toward them. The nearest, a narrow grave was unmarked. The other mound, a good thirty feet beyond, was about seven feet square he guessed and likely was a common grave for three or four men. There obviously had been big trouble at this place. The common grave probably did not contain bodies of any crew members. The unmarked single baffled him.

He finished caring for the two horses that were enduring the journey well. After allowing the mounts to drink from the river, he staked them out in an area near the campsite that cattle had not chewed down to dirt and decided to snatch some shuteye, He held hopes that he might catch up with the herd by the end of a long night ride.

He reached his objective several hours before sunrise. He could hear the sporadic bellowing of cattle breaking through the quiet night long before he saw the huge herd strung out across the prairie. He could make out several night riders passing each other on their route along the rear fringes of the cattle herd. He feared somebody might be digging his grave if he approached them out of the darkness.

The terrain to the east had been rough and hilly the past hour and most of the herd seemed to be stretched out grazing in that direction, so he gambled that camp was set up to the west. He dismounted and led his horses westerly away from the herd. He angled back north through a break in a cluster of trees and brush when he had put the cattle well behind him. Moments later, the pungent smell of smoke signaled he had made the correct choice. Soon he made out the shadowy silhouettes of the wagons against the starlit sky.

He froze when he heard the threatening growl of an animal in the trees. “Magni?”

“Irish, is that you?” It was Jordy.

“Yeah, boss.”

Jordy emerged from the trees with a rifle cradled in his arm and the big dog at his side. “What in the blazes are you doing here? And at this time of the morning? Magni heard you coming and rousted me out. I’ve learned to do what he tells me.”

“Stuff you need to know, Jordy. Couldn’t wait.”

“Coffee pot on the coals.

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