Black Creek. Paul Varnes

Black Creek - Paul Varnes


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asked, “Did you track them enough to determine a direction?”

      Asa said, “Yes sir. I thought it was kind of strange because they’re going northeast.”

      Pa said, “It’s probably white men. They might be headed for a cattle boat. There are lots of places where they could have a boat waiting. How old were the tracks?”

      Asa said, “They looked fresh to me, Pa.”

      Asa already had his rifle and he got his musket. Pa and I were busy arming ourselves as we talked.

      Pa said, “We’ll have to hurry. If they’re headed for a waiting boat, we might not have more than twenty-four hours to catch them.”

      Ma, who had busied herself packing us some food and helping get our bed rolls ready, said, “Isaac, don’t you get my boys hurt over a few woods cows. You take proper care. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go. Lord knows we have to take care of ourselves. But you be careful.”

      Turning to George, Pa said, “Get on your pony and get over to the Hunter place, quick. Tell Jacob what’s been said here and tell him we could use some help. Tell him we’re going northeast and he can probably pick up our trail at the north end of Moccasin Swamp. If he hasn’t checked, some of his cattle might be gone, too. You come straight back here to help your Ma.”

      We were in the saddle and gone in fifteen minutes—Pa, Asa, and me. We were each leading a second horse. It was the first time on this kind of trip for Asa. At fifteen years old, he was old enough. We had plenty of confidence in Asa.

      When we picked up the trail, we put our horses into a trot. It was apparent the thieves were pushing along pretty fast. It was also apparent from the tracks that they had a two- or three-hour head start on us. Since it was almost noon, we had only a little more than six hours to catch them if we were going to do it before dark. We couldn’t track them after dark but they could keep the cattle moving, even if they lost a few head.

      As we were riding three abreast in an open stretch of woods, Pa said, “Boys, I don’t have much of a plan in mind. If we spot them ahead of us, we’ll kick our horses and make a run at them. When we get within fifty yards, I’ll shout. Each of you pick a tree to swing down behind. Brace your rifle on the tree and make your shot count. We’ll reload there. We’ll have to play it by ear after that. If they make a fight of it, use your rifle until they’re within musket range.”

      When expecting a fight, we always carried short-barrel muskets in a saddle scabbard and our rifles in our hand. At night we reversed that. The musket is more effective for the close work of night fighting. When loaded with pellets it doesn’t have to be aimed as carefully.

      It sounded like a good plan to me. All of us could hit a running deer at a hundred yards with our rifles. If we stopped at fifty yards, by the time we dismounted and fired they would still be within a hundred yards, even if they kept moving with the herd.

      After twenty minutes we switched to our second horses and continued at a steady trot. We were traveling faster than the thieves were. We were sure they had started their drive sometime during the late morning because there had been no dew on the tracks when we first saw them.

      After another twenty minutes passed, in order to give the horses a rest we dismounted and jogged along leading them for ten minutes. We then remounted our original horses and continued to follow the trail at a steady trot. I was thinking Sergeant Hunter wouldn’t have much chance of catching us before we caught up with the cattle. We had at least a mile-and-a-half head-start on him. I was thinking it sure would be good to have him with us when we caught the thieves. Also he had a boy, John, who might be coming along. John was the same age as Asa and was as good a shot as any of us.

      Other than stopping to water our horses and get a drink, we followed the same routine for two more hours. It being overcast, I figured we had three more hours until dark started closing in. I didn’t know how long the horses could keep up the pace.

      At that point the cattle’s tracks showed that a larger herd and some more riders joined the herd we were following. We didn’t stop to sort out exactly how many there were. The herd size had more than doubled, though.

      It was after four when we got within three hundred yards and sighted them.

      Pa said, “Let’s go.”

      Dropping the lead ropes to our spare horses, we kicked the horses we were riding into a run.

      Our horses at a hard run, we were less than two hundred yards from them when one of them looked back and spotted us. It took them a few seconds to decide what to do. Four of them then turned toward us.

      When Pa shouted “now,” we were still at eighty yards. By the time we stopped and dismounted we were at sixty yards. The four of them fired at us without effect. It’s mighty hard to hit anything from a moving horse, regardless of how close you are. They were still mounted.

      When we propped on trees and fired, two of them went down. The other two wheeled their horses and rode toward where their friends were still driving the herd northeast. Since it takes nearly half a minute to reload, they were well out of range by the time we could use our rifles again.

      When we finished reloading, Pa said, “Let’s go.”

      As we remounted to continue the chase, I heard running horses behind me and wheeled my horse to face that danger. It was Mr. Hunter and John coming at a dead run. By the time I got my horse turned and regained speed, they had come on line beside me.

      Pa slowed a little to let us catch up and then we continued the chase. As we closed on the herd that time, leaving the herd to us, the thieves peeled off to one side and the other and ran for it. I guess when the Hunters joined us, there were just too many of us for their liking. We didn’t get close enough to shoot again.

      After we had the herd under control and turned, Pa said to Mr. Hunter, “There’s not any use in following them. We got the cattle back and they probably won’t be back to our place.”

      Jacob Hunter said, “Nope. I don’t expect they will.”

      Most of the cattle that had joined the ones we were following belonged to the Hunters.

      Our horses were too spent to continue, so we gathered up the horses we had let go when the fight started, built a brush-and-pole pen, and held the herd there all night. The next morning we found one of the two men we had shot and buried him. Pa said words over him while we all had out hats off. Pa always said words over those we had to bury regardless of who they were. The other one we shot had managed to get up and leave. He had to be walking, or dead someplace, because we found and caught the two horses they were riding.

      While the burying was being done, Pa said, “I. J., you take a couple of extra horses to switch off on and ride ahead to let your ma know we’re okay. Tell her we might be after dark getting there. We need to take it easy on these horses. Also, send George to tell Mrs. Hunter.”

      Riding a lot slower than we had the day before, I still arrived home an hour before dark. Ma was momentarily upset because of me riding in alone. I could see the concern on her face when she asked and the relief on her face when I told her why I had been sent ahead. After sending George to tell Mrs. Hunter, I hurried to get the chores done before dark. Pa and Asa rode in later that night. They had turned the herd loose between our house and the Hunters.’ Once back in their home territory, the cattle wouldn’t wander far.

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