Read Online to Tame a Land (1955) by Louis L'amour - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Louis L'amour
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and girls married at sixteen.
The thought of her marrying somebody made me feel kin d of panicky and scared, as if I was losing something I n eeded.
Finally I packed to go, and then while I was waiting fo r time to leave, I went to a gambling hell called the Wol f Trap. As soon as I was inside the door I saw Woods, an d with him a local tough known as Chris Lillie. Wanting n o trouble, I turned at once and went out.
The streets were dark and silent. It was very late an d few people were about. Walking swiftly, I was almost t o the end of the street when I heard someone running behind me. Quickly I ducked into a doorway.
Nobody passed, and nobody came near. Yet I had hear d those feet. Suddenly I remembered that at this point another street, a very narrow one, intersected the one o n which I had been walking. It would be on that othe r street that I'd heard the running.
Deliberately I crossed the street away from the corner.
Cities were new to me, but the hunting of men is muc h the same anywhere. In the blackness of a doorway I waited, watching the point where the two streets came together.
Several minutes passed and then I saw Chris Lilli e come out of the alley and peer down the street up whic h I had come. The street was, of course, empty.
All was dark and still except under the few misty stree t lights. Fog was beginning to drift in from the bottoms, an d the night was ghostly in its silence.
Then a second man emerged, and this was Woods.
They stood there together, whispering and peering around.
My disappearance worried them. And then I stepped ou t into the street. "Looking for me?" I asked.
Woods had a pistol in his hand. He whipped it u p and fired, but he shot too quickly, and missed. I felt th e bullet whip past me as I steadied my aim and fired. Wood s turned back, starting in the direction from which he ha d come, and then fell dead.
Lillie sprinted for the alley, and I let him go. Waitin g only a minute longer, I turned away and walked bac k to my hotel. By daybreak I was riding a rented home wes t of the river. And I had killed my third white man.
But this time with the Smith & Wesson .44, not the ol d Shawk & McLanahan.
Chapter 8
IN 1872 much of Texas was still wild. In easter n Texas there were vast thickets of chaparral, and some goo d forests. It was lonely country, dangerous for a stranger. I t was feuding country, too. The Lee-Peacock and SuttonTaylor feuds had left the country split wide open. Neithe r of them was really setttled, and much of the bloodies t fighting was still to come.
Every ranch in some sections of eastern Texas was a n armed camp, and few men rode alone. There were ol d enmities that had survived the fights of the Regulator s and the Moderators, and the fighting and general lawlessness had brought into the country some bad men from th e Indian Territory and elsewhere. But Texas had enough o f her own.
In Marshall I bought a horse. He was a fine dapple d gray, the fastest walking horse I ever saw. He was seventeen hands high and could really step out and move, idea l for such a trip as this.
Some nights I camped out, and at times stayed in wayside inns or at ranches. It was good riding, and new country for me. In the back of my mind all the while was th e thought that I was heading for Colorado, where I'd sta y a while before riding on to California to visit Logan an d Mary. Meanwhile I was young and restless, and the country looked good.
For a month I rode, drifting south and a little west, an d one day I came on a man with a herd of cows.
He had six hundred head and he was short-handed.
He was a big man with a blunt, good-natured face. H e looked me over as I came along the road, then called out , "Hunting a job?"
"Use one," I said, and swung my gray alongside him.
"Thirty a month," he said. "I'm driving to Uvalde.
Selling this herd to Bill Bennett. He's going up the trai l to Kansas."
"All right."
"Can't promise you Kansas, but the job is good t o Uvalde. My
The thought of her marrying somebody made me feel kin d of panicky and scared, as if I was losing something I n eeded.
Finally I packed to go, and then while I was waiting fo r time to leave, I went to a gambling hell called the Wol f Trap. As soon as I was inside the door I saw Woods, an d with him a local tough known as Chris Lillie. Wanting n o trouble, I turned at once and went out.
The streets were dark and silent. It was very late an d few people were about. Walking swiftly, I was almost t o the end of the street when I heard someone running behind me. Quickly I ducked into a doorway.
Nobody passed, and nobody came near. Yet I had hear d those feet. Suddenly I remembered that at this point another street, a very narrow one, intersected the one o n which I had been walking. It would be on that othe r street that I'd heard the running.
Deliberately I crossed the street away from the corner.
Cities were new to me, but the hunting of men is muc h the same anywhere. In the blackness of a doorway I waited, watching the point where the two streets came together.
Several minutes passed and then I saw Chris Lilli e come out of the alley and peer down the street up whic h I had come. The street was, of course, empty.
All was dark and still except under the few misty stree t lights. Fog was beginning to drift in from the bottoms, an d the night was ghostly in its silence.
Then a second man emerged, and this was Woods.
They stood there together, whispering and peering around.
My disappearance worried them. And then I stepped ou t into the street. "Looking for me?" I asked.
Woods had a pistol in his hand. He whipped it u p and fired, but he shot too quickly, and missed. I felt th e bullet whip past me as I steadied my aim and fired. Wood s turned back, starting in the direction from which he ha d come, and then fell dead.
Lillie sprinted for the alley, and I let him go. Waitin g only a minute longer, I turned away and walked bac k to my hotel. By daybreak I was riding a rented home wes t of the river. And I had killed my third white man.
But this time with the Smith & Wesson .44, not the ol d Shawk & McLanahan.
Chapter 8
IN 1872 much of Texas was still wild. In easter n Texas there were vast thickets of chaparral, and some goo d forests. It was lonely country, dangerous for a stranger. I t was feuding country, too. The Lee-Peacock and SuttonTaylor feuds had left the country split wide open. Neithe r of them was really setttled, and much of the bloodies t fighting was still to come.
Every ranch in some sections of eastern Texas was a n armed camp, and few men rode alone. There were ol d enmities that had survived the fights of the Regulator s and the Moderators, and the fighting and general lawlessness had brought into the country some bad men from th e Indian Territory and elsewhere. But Texas had enough o f her own.
In Marshall I bought a horse. He was a fine dapple d gray, the fastest walking horse I ever saw. He was seventeen hands high and could really step out and move, idea l for such a trip as this.
Some nights I camped out, and at times stayed in wayside inns or at ranches. It was good riding, and new country for me. In the back of my mind all the while was th e thought that I was heading for Colorado, where I'd sta y a while before riding on to California to visit Logan an d Mary. Meanwhile I was young and restless, and the country looked good.
For a month I rode, drifting south and a little west, an d one day I came on a man with a herd of cows.
He had six hundred head and he was short-handed.
He was a big man with a blunt, good-natured face. H e looked me over as I came along the road, then called out , "Hunting a job?"
"Use one," I said, and swung my gray alongside him.
"Thirty a month," he said. "I'm driving to Uvalde.
Selling this herd to Bill Bennett. He's going up the trai l to Kansas."
"All right."
"Can't promise you Kansas, but the job is good t o Uvalde. My
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