Leadville Read Online Free PDF Page B

Don’t knows .
    In a couple hours, the sun had set, and twilight made it increasingly difficult to see. I was also hungry. Breakfast had been slight, and our noonday meal had been apples eaten in the saddle. Suddenly, out of the gathering gloom, I saw McAllen and Sharp ride toward us. I hoped we were still distant enough from our prey that we could have a campfire to ward off the chill. I needed to get used to the hardship ahead, but I liked comforts. City upbringing, I guess.
    “Anything?” McAllen asked.
    “No.” That was the eighteenth word Red had spoken since we had separated. I had been so bored, I had counted.
    “How about that chasm for the night?”
    We all looked where McAllen pointed, but it was getting so dark I could barely make out two rocky ridges protruding into the narrowing valley about a quarter mile ahead.
    “I’ll scout it.” With that, Red galloped away to secure us a cozy abode.
    “Do Indians attack at night?” I asked as we walked our horses leisurely behind Red’s dust trail.
    McAllen gave me an irritated look. “Only Easterners and dime novelists think Indians quit fighting when the sun goes down.” After a few paces, McAllen added, “They do like to use the cover of darkness to sneak up and attack at first light. Probably where the myth came from. But don’t worry. We’re only hours out of Durango. The Utes are far away.”
    McAllen walked for another minute before saying, “Most men bed down deep in a canyon, thinking they’ve found safe haven. Problem is, Indians can scurry alongside the ridgeline and catch you unawares. I prefer to encamp at the mouth. Good line of sight, but you can fall back if attacked.”
    This almost amounted to a speech for McAllen, so I presumed he took seriously his promise to teach me wilderness skills. I had to ask. “Fire tonight?”
    “No, but it should be safe to have a small fire in the morning for coffee.”
    Just as I had feared. At least we would have hot coffee to wake up to. As soon as the sun went down, the autumn air in these foothills turned brisk. I decided to sleep in the fleece coat Sharp had bought.
    When we caught up with Red, he merely nodded to signal that no danger lurked nearby. In short order, we had unpacked and unsaddled the horses and used loose brush and branches to fence the end of the chasm as a crude pen. I had no fear of Chestnut wandering away, but McAllen explained that our rented packhorses might head back to the livery if we failed to corral or picket them.
    After we had laid out our bedrolls, Sharp made my night. He got permission from McAllen to cook some beans at the back of our little gulch.
    “Can I help?” I asked.
    “Ever done much cooking?”
    “No.”
    He threw me two cans. “Then carry these tins. Ain’t no boys for hire out here.”
    I laughed and started off, but Sharp began digging around in the burlap sacks, so I ended up waiting awhile. When he stood, he had a paper-wrapped parcel, a small bottle, and a heavy sack. He shoved them all in a cast iron pot and hung it over my arm.
    After he had given me the entire load, Sharp said, “McAllen may know how to track dangerous men, but he can’t cook worth a shit. Let’s go.”
    Sharp arranged rocks in a small circle and then piled wood on top and set the whole thing ablaze. As the fire burned, he opened the tins with his knife and poured them into the pot. The paper parcel hid bacon, and he tore six slices into tiny bits and threw them in with the beans. He took a fistful of sugar from the heavy sack and dumped that into the pot. The small bottle held Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce, and Sharp splashed the surface with a generous covering. After making a self-satisfied grunt, he used his knife to stir the concoction.
    “Looks like we get our pig, after all,” I said.
    “Yep. Ya kinda ruined our noonday meal yesterday. That woman was so scared, she’s gonna be useless in the kitchen for weeks.”
    “I’ll try to behave more civilized in the