Rangering by Andy Adams

Rangering - Page 4

"'I did, yer Honor,' was the prisoner's reply.

"I suggested to the court that the prisoner be informed of his rights, that he need not plead guilty unless he so desired.

"'That makes no difference here,' said the court. ’Gentlemen, I'm busy this morning. I've got to raise the piping out of a two-hundred-foot well to-day, -- something the matter with the valve at the bottom. I'll just glance over the law a moment.'

"He rummaged over a book or two for a few moments and then said,’ Here, I reckon this is near enough. I find in the revised statute before me, in the killing of a nigger the offending party was fined five dollars. A Chinaman ought to be half as good as a black man. Stand up and receive your sentence. What's your name?'

"'Jerry McKay, your Honor.'

Judge by Frederick Coffay Yohn, 1921

"Just then the court noticed one of the vaqueros belonging to the ranch standing in the door, hat in hand, and he called to him in Spanish, 'Have my horse ready, I'll be through here just in a minute.'

"'McKay,' said the court as he gave him a withering look, 'I'll fine you two dollars and a half and costs. Officer, take charge of the prisoner until it's paid!' It took about ten dollars to cover everything, which I paid, McKay returning it when he reached his camp. Whoever named that alcalde 'Law west of the Pecos' knew his man."

"I'll bet a twist of dog," said Ramrod, "that prisoner with the black whiskers spoke English. Did you notice him paying strict attention to Smoky's little talk? He reminds me of a fellow that crouched behind his horse at the fight we had on the head of the Arroyo Colorado and plugged me in the shoulder. What, you never heard of it? That's so, Cushion hasn't been with us but a few months. Well, it was in '82, down on the river, about fifty miles northwest of Brownsville. Word came in one day that a big band of horse-thieves was sweeping the country of every horse they could gather. There was a number of the old Cortina's gang known to be still on the rustle. When this report came, it found eleven men in camp. We lost little time saddling up, only taking five days' rations with us, for they were certain to re-cross the river before that time in case we failed to intercept them. Every Mexican in the country was terrorized. All they could tell us was that there was plenty of ladrones and lots of horses, 'muchos' being the qualifying word as to the number of either.

"It was night before we came to their trail, and to our surprise they were heading inland, to the north. They must have had a contract to supply the Mexican army with cavalry horses. They were simply sweeping the country, taking nothing but gentle stock. These they bucked in strings, and led. That made easy trailing, as each string left a distinct trail. The moon was splendid that night, and we trailed as easily as though it had been day. We didn't halt all night long on either trail, pegging along at a steady gait that would carry us inland some distance before morning. Our scouts aroused every ranch within miles that we passed on the way, only to have reports exaggerated as usual. One thing we did learn that night, and that was that the robbers were led by a white man. He was described in the superlatives that the Spanish language possesses abundantly; everything from the horse he rode to the solid braid on his sombrero was described in the same strain. But that kind of prize was the kind we were looking for.

"On the head of the Arroyo Colorado there is a broken country interspersed with glades and large openings. We felt very sure that the robbers would make camp somewhere in that country. When day broke the freshness of the trail surprised and pleased us. They couldn't be far away. Before an hour passed, we noticed a smoke cloud hanging low in the morning air about a mile ahead. We dismounted and securely tied our horses and pack stock.

Cattle raid, Harper's Weekly, 1874

Every man took all the cartridges he could use, and was itching for the chance to use them. We left the trail, and to conceal ourselves took to the brush or dry arroyos as a protection against alarming the quarry. They were a quarter of a mile off when we first sighted them. We began to think the reports were right, for there seemed no end of horses, and at least twenty-five men. By dropping back we could gain one of those dry arroyos which would bring us within one hundred yards of their camp. A young fellow by the name of Rusou, a crack shot, was acting captain in the absence of our officers. As we backed into the arroyo he said to us, 'If there's a white man there, and leave him to me.' We were all satisfied that he would be cared for properly at Rusou's hands, and silence gave consent.

"Opposite the camp we wormed out of the arroyo like a skirmish line, hugging the ground for the one remaining little knoll between the robbers and ourselves. I was within a few feet of Rusou as we sighted the camp about seventy-five yards distant. We were trying to make out a man that was asleep, at least he had his hat over his face, lying on a blanket with his head in a saddle. We concluded he was a white man, if there was one. Our survey of their camp was cut short by two shots fired at us by two pickets of theirs posted to our left about one hundred yards. No one was hit, but the sleeping man jumped to his feet with a six-shooter in each hand. I heard Rusou say to himself, 'You're too late, my friend.' His carbine spoke, and the fellow fell forward, firing both guns into the ground at his feet as he went down.

"Then the stuff was off and she opened up in earnest. They fought all right. I was on my knee pumping lead for dear life, and as I threw my carbine down to refill the magazine, a bullet struck it in the heel of the magazine with sufficient force to knock me backward. I thought I was hit for an instant, but it passed away in a moment. When I tried to work the lever I saw that my carbine was ruined. I called to the boys to notice a fellow with black whiskers who was shooting from behind his horse. He would shoot over and under alternately. I thought he was shooting at me. I threw down my carbine and drew my six-shooter. Just then I got a plug in the shoulder, and things got dizzy and dark. It caught me an inch above the nipple, ranging upward, -- shooting from under, you see. But some of the boys must have noticed him, for he decorated the scene badly leaded, when it was over. I was unconscious for a few minutes, and when I came around the fight had ended.

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