The Ferguson Rifle by Louis L'Amour

Author:Louis L'Amour [L'Amour, Louis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Genre Fiction, Westerns, Louis L'Amour, Historical Fiction, Western, Historical, Adventure
Amazon: B000FCKBD4
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2005-07-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

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DAWN BROKE SLOWLY under a lowering sky, heavy with clouds. Huddled over our fire, we cooked our food, left it to pack our horses and saddle up, all of us sourfaced and wary. Trouble was upon us and our every instinct spoke of it.

The coffee tasted good, and under the warmth of it and the comfort of the blaze, our spirits rose. Solomon Talley suddenly got up. “Do you stay quiet,” he said. “I want to look about.”

Shanagan threw his dregs on the ground. “I’ll ride along,” he said.

I had told them we were getting close, and they were ready for it. Cusbe Ebitt, a silent man most of the time, stopped beside Lucinda. “Do you not worry, miss. We’ll see you safely to the States or wherever you wish, and with whatever is yours.” He glanced around. “I speak for all here.”

“You do, indeed,” Degory Kemble said.

“We ride into Indian country,” Isaac Heath said, “and they’ll be many, we’ll be few. Bob, I’ll hope you rest easy on the trigger and invite no trouble. I know how you feel about Indians.”

“I’m no fool, Isaac. I’ll invite nothing, but if some Indian should cross my path on the way to the Happy Hunting Ground, I might give him an assist.”

“We are all on the way,” I commented gently. “A man is born beside the road to death. To die is not so much, it is inevitable. The journey is what matters, and what one does along the way. And it’s not that he succeeds or fails, only that he has lived proudly, with honor and respect, then he can die proudly.”

“It’s no wonder we call him Scholar,” Kemble said dryly.

Jorge Ulibarri had been standing beyond the fire, and now he spoke. “I think they wait for us.”

Kemble looked around at him. “Ambush?”

“No. Not yet. I think they know a little where the gold is, but not enough. I think they hang back, waiting for us to find it, and when we do, they’ll come to take it from us.”

“He makes a lot of sense,” Bob Sandy said. “Boy, when this is all over if you want to ride with me, you can.”

“Thank you. I must see the señorita to safety. It is a trust.” He glanced at the ground. “Not many men have trusted me. Señor Falvey did.” He looked around at us, puzzled. “I do not know if I am a man of honor, but he considered me so, and in this case at least, I must be.”

“Like I said,” Bob Sandy said, “anytime you want to ride with me. The offer stands.”

A brief spatter of rain fell. Wind whipped the leaves and the grass. “We’re going to get wet. We might as well get wet movin’ as settin’.” Ebitt got to his feet, tearing at the last bit of buffalo meat on his stick.

We put out our fire, and left the last of the coals to the rain. I went to my horse and swept the saddle free of water with my palm.

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