Read Online Last Stand at Papago Wells (1957) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louis L'amour
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battalions. It was fought by a few men, or fought alone and without help ... it was a war to survive, and they survived; they built the country. Every meal you've eaten, every gown you've worn, every bit of it was bought with the results of that war."
"I saw my father kill a boy ... just a boy!"
"Uh-huh ... but that boy carried a man's gun, didn't he?" Cates got up. "This is a rough country, ma'am. It needs men with the bark on ... and it needs women, women who could rear strong sons." He indicated Junie Hatchett. "There's a girl to ride the river with. There's iron in her, but she's all woman, too."
He walked away from the water, his mind returning to Churupati. Carefully, he assembled what knowledge he possessed, the fragments heard here and there about the renegade. Whatever was done here, and whatever chance of survival they had must be based on that knowledge.
Behind him Jennifer Fair was both angry and confused. She glanced almost resentfully at Junie. What was there about her that was so much? Yet even as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. The girl had courage, and courage of a rare kind. She had survived a terrible ordeal, and without whining, without even crying. As for herself, Jennifer had to admit, she had been fussing over the inconvenience of living in one of the finest ranch houses in Arizona!
Logan Cates prowled restlessly among the rocks, always careful to avoid exposing himself. Undoubtedly there were little potholes of water out there, and Churupati would find them, and an Indian needed little water. Like a coyote or a chaparral cock, he could go for days on a few swallows.
Yet whatever was to happen could not be long delayed, and for even this delay, Churupati must have a purpose. Logan Cates scowled at the shadows beyond the area of their defense. What was Churupati planning?
Chapter Eight
Logan Cates came down from the rocks and found a place back from the water's edge where he could roll up in his blankets. The night was cold, the day's heat gone, and a faint breeze stirring from the Gulf, not many miles to the south.
He lay awake, staring up at the stars, trying to find a solution, and then he gave it up and turned on his side and was almost instantly asleep. Yet suddenly he was once more awake, aroused by that sixth sense developed by hunter and hunted. There was movement where there should be none.
Cates held himself very still, straining his ears into the dark. It seemed he had only just fallen asleep, but the stars told him several hours had passed. He waited, sure there had been some slight movement to awaken him, and his eyes searched the rim of the rocks. Suddenly the movement came again, only it was closer.
Near the pool something stirred, and a figure rose slowly and for several seconds remained still. It was a bulky figure, heavier than--it was Big Maria!
There was no reason for her not to be there, no reason why she should not be moving around, but there was something so surreptitious about her actions that he watched closely. She held her saddlebags in her hands, and she moved by him in moccasins that made no sound. Like an Indian she slipped by him into lava rocks south of the pool, and as she disappeared he heard a faint clink of metal on metal.
He started to rise and follow, then hesitated. Whatever she was doing she did not wish to be seen, and whatever it was could not be important to him ... or could it? He was still worrying about that when she returned, and now the saddlebags were gone!
Those saddlebags had been heavy for her and she was a very strong woman. She had been quick to take them from her horse so they would not be handled by anyone but herself. And now she had taken those saddlebags and concealed them. It all began to weave a curious and interesting pattern ... who was Big Maria? Where had she come from, if not Tucson? Where could she have come from that would allow her horse to arrive comparatively fresh? Where could she have been that
"I saw my father kill a boy ... just a boy!"
"Uh-huh ... but that boy carried a man's gun, didn't he?" Cates got up. "This is a rough country, ma'am. It needs men with the bark on ... and it needs women, women who could rear strong sons." He indicated Junie Hatchett. "There's a girl to ride the river with. There's iron in her, but she's all woman, too."
He walked away from the water, his mind returning to Churupati. Carefully, he assembled what knowledge he possessed, the fragments heard here and there about the renegade. Whatever was done here, and whatever chance of survival they had must be based on that knowledge.
Behind him Jennifer Fair was both angry and confused. She glanced almost resentfully at Junie. What was there about her that was so much? Yet even as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer. The girl had courage, and courage of a rare kind. She had survived a terrible ordeal, and without whining, without even crying. As for herself, Jennifer had to admit, she had been fussing over the inconvenience of living in one of the finest ranch houses in Arizona!
Logan Cates prowled restlessly among the rocks, always careful to avoid exposing himself. Undoubtedly there were little potholes of water out there, and Churupati would find them, and an Indian needed little water. Like a coyote or a chaparral cock, he could go for days on a few swallows.
Yet whatever was to happen could not be long delayed, and for even this delay, Churupati must have a purpose. Logan Cates scowled at the shadows beyond the area of their defense. What was Churupati planning?
Chapter Eight
Logan Cates came down from the rocks and found a place back from the water's edge where he could roll up in his blankets. The night was cold, the day's heat gone, and a faint breeze stirring from the Gulf, not many miles to the south.
He lay awake, staring up at the stars, trying to find a solution, and then he gave it up and turned on his side and was almost instantly asleep. Yet suddenly he was once more awake, aroused by that sixth sense developed by hunter and hunted. There was movement where there should be none.
Cates held himself very still, straining his ears into the dark. It seemed he had only just fallen asleep, but the stars told him several hours had passed. He waited, sure there had been some slight movement to awaken him, and his eyes searched the rim of the rocks. Suddenly the movement came again, only it was closer.
Near the pool something stirred, and a figure rose slowly and for several seconds remained still. It was a bulky figure, heavier than--it was Big Maria!
There was no reason for her not to be there, no reason why she should not be moving around, but there was something so surreptitious about her actions that he watched closely. She held her saddlebags in her hands, and she moved by him in moccasins that made no sound. Like an Indian she slipped by him into lava rocks south of the pool, and as she disappeared he heard a faint clink of metal on metal.
He started to rise and follow, then hesitated. Whatever she was doing she did not wish to be seen, and whatever it was could not be important to him ... or could it? He was still worrying about that when she returned, and now the saddlebags were gone!
Those saddlebags had been heavy for her and she was a very strong woman. She had been quick to take them from her horse so they would not be handled by anyone but herself. And now she had taken those saddlebags and concealed them. It all began to weave a curious and interesting pattern ... who was Big Maria? Where had she come from, if not Tucson? Where could she have come from that would allow her horse to arrive comparatively fresh? Where could she have been that
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