Read Online the Lonesome Gods (1983) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louis L'amour
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have heard," he said, "Indians do not scare easily."
It was growing hotter by the minute. "It's mighty hot," Farley told my father, "but I want to get to the mountains. Once we get to Agua Caliente, we can hole up. Stay a couple of days, if need be." He paused. "Do you know the place?"
"I do. It is likely you'll find some Cahuillas camped there."
"I never knew them to be trouble."
"They are not, if you respect them and their ways." "They the ones who helped you?"
"One of the tribes. The Luiserios and Chemehuevis did also."
There was no more talk. It was very hot, and I tried to sleep. The wagon rocked, rolled, and rumbled, dragging through sand, bumping over rocks, sliding down banks. After several hours Doug Farley stopped the wagon and gave a small amount of water to each of the horses.
Fletcher raised up on his elbow at the sound of water being poured. "How about some of that for me?"
"Sorry. We'll have no water until we cross the desert." Fletcher sat up, grumbling, but Farley paid no attention. Fraser pulled his skinny knees closer and tried to write. Mrs. Weber dabbed at her nose with a flimsy handkerchief, and Miss Nesselrode simply leaned her head back and closed her eves.
Nobody talked, nobody wanted to talk; they just sat. "Oven!" Fletcher said suddenly. "It's like an oven!" Mrs. Weber fanned herself with her hat. She had removed it at last, and her hair was drawn tight to her skull except for buns over each ear. Her hair was parted in the middle, and she looked more than ever like a tired bulldog.
Miss Nesselrode opened her eyes to look toward Farley, who sat on the driver's seat. I had not noticed before how large her eyes were. She caught me looking at her, and with a perfectly straight face, she winked.
I jumped. It was so unexpected, and I had never seen a lady wink before, although Papa sometimes did. But her wink from such a straight face was so droll that I had to smile, then I grinned, and she smiled back, then closed her eyes. I decided I really liked Miss Nesselrode.
It was almost dark inside the wagon when my father sat up. I had been asleep, and so had most of the others. Jacob Finney was driving the team, and Farley was sitting in the very front of the wagon behind him, his eyes closed.
"We're comin' up to Indian Wells," Jacob said over his shoulder. "Hear the place started as a spring, but the water level kept falling. Now they have to go down steps to get to it."
It was cool now. It was as if the heat had never been. Mrs. Weber put her hat on, and both Fraser and Fletcher put on their coats, but not before I saw that Mr. Fletcher carried a small derringer in his vest pocket. Later, when we had stopped and were alone, I told my father.
"Good!" He squeezed my arm. "You are observant. I like that, and it is important."
"It is on the left side," I said, "and the butt is turned toward the left."
"Oh?" He paused a moment. "Now, that is interesting. The butt toward the left? That I had not noticed."
Chapter 9
It was after midnight when we stopped at Indian Wells. My father climbed from the back of the stage, stagg ering a little.
"Mister?" It was Kelso. "You all right?"
"Yes, yes, thank you. A little unsteady, is all. Will we be here long?"
"We're changin' horses here. Our stock's about played out, an' Farley had planned to get a fresh team for the long pull through the pass." He pointed off into the darkness. "There's the Indian well that gives the place a name, but maybe you know all that.
"You have to go down steps to get to the water, but it's good water. Cold."
"I could use a drink. So could my son."
There was a pause while Kelso removed his hat and wiped the sweatband. "Lunger?" he asked gently.
"I'm afraid so. I've been coughing less since I reached the desert, though."
"Whyn't you stay over at Agua Caliente for a few days? Folks say that hot, dry air is good for lungers."
"I haven't much time, Kelso. I am taking my son to his grandparents in Los Angeles."
Mr. Kelso
It was growing hotter by the minute. "It's mighty hot," Farley told my father, "but I want to get to the mountains. Once we get to Agua Caliente, we can hole up. Stay a couple of days, if need be." He paused. "Do you know the place?"
"I do. It is likely you'll find some Cahuillas camped there."
"I never knew them to be trouble."
"They are not, if you respect them and their ways." "They the ones who helped you?"
"One of the tribes. The Luiserios and Chemehuevis did also."
There was no more talk. It was very hot, and I tried to sleep. The wagon rocked, rolled, and rumbled, dragging through sand, bumping over rocks, sliding down banks. After several hours Doug Farley stopped the wagon and gave a small amount of water to each of the horses.
Fletcher raised up on his elbow at the sound of water being poured. "How about some of that for me?"
"Sorry. We'll have no water until we cross the desert." Fletcher sat up, grumbling, but Farley paid no attention. Fraser pulled his skinny knees closer and tried to write. Mrs. Weber dabbed at her nose with a flimsy handkerchief, and Miss Nesselrode simply leaned her head back and closed her eves.
Nobody talked, nobody wanted to talk; they just sat. "Oven!" Fletcher said suddenly. "It's like an oven!" Mrs. Weber fanned herself with her hat. She had removed it at last, and her hair was drawn tight to her skull except for buns over each ear. Her hair was parted in the middle, and she looked more than ever like a tired bulldog.
Miss Nesselrode opened her eyes to look toward Farley, who sat on the driver's seat. I had not noticed before how large her eyes were. She caught me looking at her, and with a perfectly straight face, she winked.
I jumped. It was so unexpected, and I had never seen a lady wink before, although Papa sometimes did. But her wink from such a straight face was so droll that I had to smile, then I grinned, and she smiled back, then closed her eyes. I decided I really liked Miss Nesselrode.
It was almost dark inside the wagon when my father sat up. I had been asleep, and so had most of the others. Jacob Finney was driving the team, and Farley was sitting in the very front of the wagon behind him, his eyes closed.
"We're comin' up to Indian Wells," Jacob said over his shoulder. "Hear the place started as a spring, but the water level kept falling. Now they have to go down steps to get to it."
It was cool now. It was as if the heat had never been. Mrs. Weber put her hat on, and both Fraser and Fletcher put on their coats, but not before I saw that Mr. Fletcher carried a small derringer in his vest pocket. Later, when we had stopped and were alone, I told my father.
"Good!" He squeezed my arm. "You are observant. I like that, and it is important."
"It is on the left side," I said, "and the butt is turned toward the left."
"Oh?" He paused a moment. "Now, that is interesting. The butt toward the left? That I had not noticed."
Chapter 9
It was after midnight when we stopped at Indian Wells. My father climbed from the back of the stage, stagg ering a little.
"Mister?" It was Kelso. "You all right?"
"Yes, yes, thank you. A little unsteady, is all. Will we be here long?"
"We're changin' horses here. Our stock's about played out, an' Farley had planned to get a fresh team for the long pull through the pass." He pointed off into the darkness. "There's the Indian well that gives the place a name, but maybe you know all that.
"You have to go down steps to get to the water, but it's good water. Cold."
"I could use a drink. So could my son."
There was a pause while Kelso removed his hat and wiped the sweatband. "Lunger?" he asked gently.
"I'm afraid so. I've been coughing less since I reached the desert, though."
"Whyn't you stay over at Agua Caliente for a few days? Folks say that hot, dry air is good for lungers."
"I haven't much time, Kelso. I am taking my son to his grandparents in Los Angeles."
Mr. Kelso
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