“Yes, they’re right behind me,” Cal replied. He pointed toward the running cattle. “Come on, let’s get our cows back!”
By now Smoke, Pearlie, and Andy had joined them, and they spurred their horses into a gallop toward the fleeing cows. Within minutes they were riding alongside the running, lumbering animals.
“We’ve got to get to the front!” Smoke called.
Billy nodded, but didn’t answer.
The cows were running as fast as they could run, which was about three quarters of the speed of the horses. But what the cattle lacked in speed, they made up for with their momentum. With lowered heads, wild eyes, and flopping tongues, the cattle ran as if there were no tomorrow.
Finally, Smoke reached the head of the column, rode to the front, and was able to turn them. Once the cows were turned, they lost their forward momentum, slowed their running to a trot, and finally to a walk. When that happened, the riders were able to turn them and start them back.
“What happened to the rustlers?” Pearlie asked.
“One of ’em went down,” Billy said. “The others must’ve run away.”
Suddenly they heard shots from back at the camp.
“What’s that?” Mike asked. “What’s going on?”
“Damn!” Smoke said. “These cows were just a diversion! They’re after the entire herd!”
Sally, Jules, and Hank were firing as fast as they could operate the levers of their rifles.
“Lord!” Hank said. “There’s got to be at least twenty of them. Where did they all…uhnnn!”
Grabbing his chest, Hank went down.
“Hank!” Jules shouted. He knelt beside his friend and put his hand on Hank’s face. “Hank!”
Hank made no response.
“Miz Sally, Hank’s been hit!” Jules called.
“Get up here, Jules,” Sally called back to him. “Get up here in the wagon!”
“But Hank! I can’t leave him!” Jules shouted.
Looking down toward the young cowboy, Sally could tell by the way Hank was spread-eagled on the ground that he was dead.
“Never mind Hank, it’s too late for him,” Sally said. Even as she was calling out to him, she was sighting down the barrel of her rifle. She pulled the trigger, the rifle kicked back against her shoulder, and she saw the outlaw in her sights go down.
With one final look at Hank to confirm that he really was dead, Jules dashed across the open area toward the wagon.
Sally saw one of the rustlers taking aim at Jules, and quickly jacking a shell into the chamber, she snapped a shot toward him. She missed, but she did keep him from shooting at Jules.
Jules scrambled up over the side and down into the wagon.
“Are you all right?” Sally called.
“Yes, ma’am, I ain’t been hit none,” Jules responded.
A bullet slammed into one of the bow frames of the wagon, then whistled off into the night, a darkened missile of death.
“Get up here and start shooting,” Sally ordered.
“Yes, ma’am!”
For the next thirty seconds, Sally and Jules exchanged shots with the rustlers.
“Where’d all these folks come from?” Jules asked. “I thought Smoke was chasin’ ’em down.”
“That’s what they wanted to happen,” Sally replied. “They wanted to pull away all the men so they could waltz right in and take the cattle.”
Sally punctuated her remarks with another shot from her rifle.
“Really?” Jules said, laughing. “Well, they sure made a mistake thinkin’ that if all the men was gone they could just waltz in here.”
Sally laughed as well. “You may be young, Jules Sanders, but if you can laugh at a time like this, you are a man in my book.”
“Why, thank you, Miz Sally,” Jules said as he fired at the rustlers.
“Staley, we’ve lost three men already,” one of Staley’s riders said.
“All right, Cord, break off the fight,” Staley said. “Start moving the cows out.”
“With them shootin’ at us?”
“They’re in a wagon,” Staley said. “You think they’re goin’ to be able to run us down in a wagon?”
Cord laughed. “No.”
“Then do like I said and start movin’ out them cows before the others come back.”
“Where did they go?” Jules asked, lowering his rifle and staring through the gun smoke out into the darkness. “I don’t see any of them.”
