Slaughter of Eagles. William W. Johnstone
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weren’t going to make it as easy as he first thought. They had been on the run for nearly all their adult life, so they knew how to confuse and disorient anyone who might be tracking them. They took great pains to cover their true trail, while leaving false trails for anyone to follow. To that end they rode through streams and over hard rock, trying every trick in the book to throw off anyone who might be following them. But Falcon hung on doggedly.
In trying to shake off anyone who might be following them, the Mueller brothers and their cohorts were actually helping Falcon. Since it was always the same five horses who broke the trail, he had a way of identifying each of them, not just the one with the tie-bar shoe. One of the horses had a slight turn-in of its right rear hoof. Two of the horses had noticeable nicks in their shoes, one on the left rear and the other on both rear shoes. Only one horse had no noticeable features and that, in itself, became a way of identifying it. In addition, all the horses had grazed together for the last few days, because their droppings were filled with the same kind of wild, mountain meadow grass.
“Whoever that feller is that’s a’ doggin’ us is still on our trail,” Terrell said.
Luke twisted around in his saddle. “Are you sure?”
“Hell yes, I’m sure. I just got me a glimpse of ’im on the other side of that far ridge.”
“That makes ’im a little more’n a mile back.”
“Ain’t they no way we can shake ’im?” Caldwell asked.
“You got ’ny ideas that we ain’t tried?” Luke replied. “We done ever’thing I can think of, an’ it ain’t even slowed ’im down none.”
“Whoever the hell he is, I swear, he could track a fish through water,” Poole said.
“I tell you what we ought to do,” Clete said.
“All right, brother, let me hear your idea.”
“We ought to just wait behind a couple rocks and shoot him, soon as he comes up on us.”
“If I thought for certain we would get ’im, I’d be all for it,” Luke said. “But we’re not likely to get a clean shot at ’im out here.”
The five men had stopped for a few minutes, not only to discuss the situation of the man on their trail, but also to give their horses a breather. All five were looking back, trying to get a glimpse of the man who was following them. When Luke turned back around, he chuckled.
“I got me an idea,” he said.
“What’s that?”
Luke pointed to a narrow draw in front of them. “If we can get through that draw, he’ll have to follow through.”
“So?”
“Look at them rocks up on the top there, on the right hand side. Do you see ’em?”
“I see ’em.”
“If we push the rocks down, it’ll block the draw and he can’t get through,” Luke said.
“Hell, why don’t we just wait until he gets into the draw, then push them rocks down on him?” Clete asked.
“Yeah, all right, we can try it,” Luke said. “Come on, let’s hurry through the draw.”
Fifteen minutes later, Falcon reached the spot where the five men had halted. He could tell by the tracks they had stopped there for a few minutes, and he could also tell they had left the spot at a gallop.
Why?
What would cause them, out there in the middle of nowhere, to suddenly break into a gallop?
Looking ahead, he saw the trail led to a very narrow draw. Slapping his legs against the side of his horse, he urged the animal on.
“Here he comes,” Luke said. “Get ready.
Clete and the others got in position behind the rocks and waited.
“Now!” Luke shouted. “Now!”
The word rolled down from the top of the rock wall, amplified by the narrow confines of the wall. The word itself got Falcon’s attention, and he jerked his horse to a stop. Then, he heard the scrape and clatter of rocks, followed by the thunder of a rockslide. Glancing up, it looked as if the entire wall was collapsing right on him.
“Ha!” Luke shouted. “We got him! There ain’t no way he got out of that!”
Clete, Terrell, Caldwell, and Poole stepped up alongside Luke to look down into the draw. They saw nothing but a large pile of rocks on the floor below.
“Who was it, do you reckon?” Poole asked.
Luke shook his head. “I don’t have no idée,” he said. “Prob’ly some deputy or somethin’. Whoever it was, it don’t make no never mind now, ’cause he’s deader than a doornail.”
“Ha!” Poole said. “And we’ve got away clean as a whistle.”
“Yeah, what say we divide up our money now, and each one of us go on our different way?” Caldwell said.
“Not yet,” Luke replied.
“What do you mean, not yet? Why not?”
“If they was one deputy comin’ after us, there’s just as likely to be another one. Or maybe two or three more. We’d be better off all stickin’ together ’til we’re sure.”
From the moment he heard the word Now, Falcon was on the alert. Jerking his horse around, he was at a full gallop by the time the rocks began falling, and well clear of the draw by the time the rocks started piling up on the floor below. Turning back toward the draw, he watched the dust rise as the rocks closed the passage.
Fortunately he had been there many times, and he knew another way around. Coming out on the other side no more than half an hour later, he picked up their tracks immediately. Thinking they were in the clear, they no longer made an effort to hide their trail. They were heading in a straight line for the little town of Black Hawk.
The sun went behind the clouds just before noon, and the clouds thickened and darkened.
“Purty soon it’s goin’ to commence to rainin’ here like pourin’ piss out of a boot. And we’re goin’ to be right in the middle of it,” Terrell said.
“What if it does rain? You ain’t made of sugar,” Clete said. “You ain’t goin’ to melt.”
Poole laughed. “You ain’t made of sugar,” he repeated. “I like that.”
“I ain’t goin’ to melt, that’s true,” Terrell said. “But it ain’t goin’ to be none too comfortable bein’ out here in it, neither.”
“Let the rain come,” Luke said. “The more rain the better.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, Terrell. If anybody else is on our trail, why this rain will wash out all the tracks,” Luke said.
Terrell was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. He laughed. “Yeah, that’s right, ain’t it? It would wash out all our tracks. Hell, I say, let the rain come.”
“Not yet,” Luke said.
“What do you mean, not yet? You just said the rain would wash out all our tracks, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did, and it will. But if it will just hold off for another half hour or so, we’ll be to Black Hawk.”
“Black Hawk? What’s Black Hawk?”
“It’s a town me and Clete have already scouted out. No railroad comes to it, there’s no telegraph wires, and even if they have heard of us, there ain’t likely no one there who has ever seen us. We’ll be safe inside, and the rain will wash away the tracks. We