I rushed outside to find Lucas half-leaning and slumped along the wall of the office, a burly man standing over him. The man needed a shave and a haircut, and I figured a bath as well. He didn’t look to be a cowpuncher, but I didn’t like the way he was standing over Lucas, pointing his finger at him and threatening him.
“Stay out of my way, boy! Understand?” he hollered and raised his hand to slap Lucas.
Being the gentlemanly sort that I am, I rapped his arm with the barrel of the Greener as he started to swing. Nothing serious, but it probably hurt some, and it sure got his attention.
“Leave the lad alone!” I ordered.
Snarling, he turned to look at me. “And who might you be?”
I looked at Lucas, smiled and replied, “I’m the lad’s uncle. Now, you just be on your way.”
It showed plainly on his face that he was itching to do more, but he didn’t like the look of the shotgun in my hands, plus his forearm was already smarting from where bone and steel collided. He said something under his breath which I didn’t understand, glared at me, then turned to walk away.
“Come on, Lucas. We need to get a few supplies then head on down through the Navajo Nation toward Fort Wingate.” I hadn’t gone this far south in this area before. Looking up at the sky I noticed it was clear, nary a cloud to be seen. A grim smile appeared on my face as I thought, “This is goin’ to be a hot, dry day.”
We went to the livery to retrieve our horses where I started a conversation with the hostler–Benny by name. He was an old man who had hurt himself prospecting, so decided to open a livery in Farmington. His hair was sparse enough a fellow could run a rake through it. But he was a happy fellow, and seemed to enjoy our company.
“Nah, them Navajos won’t give yuh no trouble. Well, that it unless yuh have a renegade out there. People’s no different, there’s good and bad amongst them all,” he informed us.
“What about water?” I questioned.
He rubbed his chin several times. “Yuh need to ride west about fifteen miles ’til yuh come to the Chaco River. There’s a trail down along the river, but at times yuh’ll have to take a detour around some canyons and small gorges, but yuh’ll soon come back to the river,” he said, then scratched his head before pulling on his ear. “Yuh can go further west, there’s a decent road there goin’ down to Wingate. A couple of springs along the way that yuh should be able to get to by the end of each day. I reckon from here yur ’round one hundred twenty miles from the Fort.”
I gave him an extra dollar and told him to come down to Durango some day. I’d treat him to the best pie he’s ever eaten. Then Lucas and I took our leave and headed toward the mercantile. We bought a few supplies plus some bacon, flour, extra coffee. They had some beans in a can so I purchased a few of them, and also some canned peaches. It’s hard to imagine the changes that are taking place. Canned fruit and vegetables; a few years ago who would have ever thought.
Lucas loaded up the pack horse as I watched over him making sure it was done right. It was time for him to be learning some things about living on the trail. While he was doing the job I glanced around the town and noticed the burly man across the street by a saloon. He was leaning against the post and I noticed that he would look at us from time to time.
When Lucas tied off the load, he looked at me smiling, “Did I do good?”
I pulled on the ropes, looked over the burden and nodded. “Let’s mount up and head down the trail. It’s goin’ to get hot quick.”
Two hours later we reached the Chaco and headed south following the well-worn trail. Another hour and we came to a small village of a half dozen hogans that was not far from the turnoff and the kids waved at us as we traveled by.
After passing by the village we continued for another half hour before I pulled over by the river to stop for a spell. Lucas gathered up some sticks and built a fire so we could have some coffee. I opened a can of beans with my knife and then one of the cans of peaches. We’d eat light and then fix some biscuits and bacon for supper.
“What is wrong, Senor Miles?” asked Lucas. “You constantly look back where we come from.”
I smiled, “Lucas, it’s always good to check your backtrail for two reasons. One is that goin’ back the same way things don’t look the same, so you want to get it in your mind. The other reason is that you may find that someone is following you.” I pointed, “See that little swirl of dust? We have someone following us.”
He looked quickly to where I was pointing, then at me with a question on his face.
“We’ll travel a few more hours and make an early camp. Have a good supper, and see if our travelin’ companion will take a notion to make a visit,” I told him. “Let’s finish up here and get movin’.”