Hell on the Prairie Read Online Free PDF

side
of the stampede at a dead run. Even a small Texas horse like Berry
was much faster than a longhorn steer. Billy began to gain on the
cattle. He pulled his lariat from its ties on the saddle fork.
    Reckon Willis came up beside Billy, the brim
of his hat pushed back against the crown by the wind. “Gotta turn
’em,” he shouted. “Push ’em west! Make ’em turn to the west!” He
grabbed his hat from his head and slapped it against his horse’s
rump. It jumped ahead with a burst of speed.
    There seemed to be riders ahead. Billy
squinted, trying to see through the cloud of dust that hung over
the herd. Big men, they were, on big horses. They rode in a line,
cutting through the front end of the stampede.
    “ Hey! Them’s B Bar beeves!” The shout
came from Reckon Willis. The answer was a volley of gunfire.
Reckon’s horse went down.
    Billy wasted precious seconds reattaching
his lariat to the saddle fork. Then he drew the Remington that hung
from his belt in its homemade holster. He eared the hammer back and
looked for someone to shoot.
    A dark shape showed. Billy assumed none of
the Brodrick drovers would be so far east. He pushed the big
six-shooter out at arm’s length and held low, figuring it would be
easier to hit a horse than the man riding it. He pulled the
trigger. Exploding powder sent the .46 caliber bullet slashing
through the dust.
    The dark horse reared. Billy heard a whinny.
He grimaced. Shooting horses was not what he signed on to do. He
cocked the Remington again, aimed at the same animal, and pulled
the trigger. This time, the horse went down.
    Billy reined Berry wide of the downed horse,
hoping to avoid the rider. He couldn’t see Reckon anywhere, so he
started pushing the lead steers, the ones left from the cutting
action of the big men and their big horses. He left the Remington
on half-cock and shoved it back into its new holster.
    There was no rain and no lightning, nothing
to keep the half-wild longhorns running. They began to slow. Billy
rode at the head, slapping steers with his lariat and turning them
west. Then Brodrick was there, and Sam Morgan, the kid called
Sonny, and Long Tom. The herd turned and started milling.
    “ Good job, Billy,” Brodrick said.
“Don’t look like we lost a lot of stock.”
    “ I shot a horse,” Billy
said.
    “ A what?”
    “ A horse.”
    “ Why in heaven’s name would you go and
shoot a horse?”
    “ Easier to hit than the
rider.”
    “ Rider?”
    “ Five or six. Big men on big horses.
Cut off a bunch of our cows. I shot one of their horses. They shot
before me, and Reckon Willis’s horse went down, too.”
    “ Show me.”
    Billy reined Berry around and rode back
toward Red River. The big horse had gone down maybe half a mile
behind, but there was no moon and the stars gave precious little
light. Billy squinted, searching for a black lump that could be the
downed horse, but it was Berry that led them straight to the dead
animal. One minute Billy could see nothing, the next, a dark mound
appeared ahead. He could soon tell it was a horse, lying flat on
its side with its neck stretched out like it was still running full
speed.
    “ Right here, boss.”
    Brodrick came up. He looked at the downed
horse for a long moment, then swung his right leg over the cantle
to dismount.
    On the ground, he dug a Lucifer from his
vest pocket and struck it alight with a thick thumbnail. He held
the flickering flame over the hindquarters, then the dead horse’s
shoulder. “No brand on this side,” he muttered. “Ain’t often a
cayuse is branded on the off side. Hmmm.”
    “ There was half a dozen riders, boss,”
Billy said. “They cut out some beeves. They was on big horses like
that one there.”
    “ Hmmm.” Brodrick remounted.
    “ Reckon Willis’s horse went down,
too,” Billy said. “Them riders was shooting at us.”
    “ No rider here. Got away, or off far
enough so we can’t see ’im. Let’s go look for Reckon,” Brodrick
said. “Lead