Free Trouble Trail by J. T. Edson Page B

the wagonmaster.
    ‘Plumb hell,’ agreed Resin.
    ‘We could go along the top there,’ suggested Bigelow.
    ‘Could,’ Resin answered. ‘Only there was a big burn-out up there a few years back and its grown over with thick young stuff and loused out with fallen dead trees. It’d take us a month to cut a way through.’
    ‘How about the other side?’
    ‘Happen we could cross that stream, which same’s not likely, there’s a fork down the valley about half a mile, you can’t hardly see it for the rain. It’d take us near a hundred mile out of our way to get round that fork and back on to our line and there’s no way we could cross.’
    ‘Do we wait it out?’ asked Bigelow, which showed that something of a change had come over him. He now asked for advice instead of giving orders.
    ‘Now that’s a good question, Cap’n,’ answered the wagon-master. ‘I only wish to hell I knew the answer.’
    ‘If one wagon broke the ground across this slope, the others could follow,’ Resin remarked.
    ‘Sure,’ agreed the wagonmaster dryly. ‘Only I’d hate like hell to be the first one.’
    None of the party spoke for a few moments for both Resin and’ Bigelow knew that if it came to the point, the wagon-master most likely would be the one who made the pioneer trip across the treacherous mile or so of slope.
    Riding forward with Bigelow at his side, Resin found the slope’s soil to be soft, soggy and slick. Yet their horses found little or no difficulty in keeping their feet. Of course, the Appaloosa and Bigelow’s bay did not haul a damned great Conestoga wagon behind them. On returning to the wagon-master’s side, the two men found Killem and the train’s segundo present.
    ‘Means going a good two mile along the slope before it’s clear to hit the top,’ Resin remarked, glancing at the halted wagons behind the men.
    Jumping down from her wagon. Calamity slouched forward and looked at the scene ahead, reading its implications. Her eyes went to the lead wagon from which the wagonmaster’s family were climbing.
    ‘Way I see it,’ she said, joining the men, ‘my wagon’s carrying the least important stuff. Right, Cap’n?’
    For a moment Bigelow thought then nodded. ‘If it comes to a point, your load is the most easily replaced.’
    ‘I’ve got the best danged team, too,’ the girl said calmly. ‘Have all the stock pushed across ahead of me, and let them with hosses ride across. Sam, get your kids back in your wagon out of the rain.’
    Five startled pairs of male eyes stared at Calamity. In a way she spoke the truth. Of all the wagons hers could probably be most easily spared; every other carried a family’s home and belongings or vitally needed military supplies. Yet the men could not risk a girl’s life on the dangerous task ahead; not even a girl like Calamity Jane.
    Without waiting for their permission, Calamity returned to her wagon and climbed aboard.
    ‘What’s the delay?’ Eileen asked.
    ‘Nothing. Get out.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I’m taking the wagon across that slope ahead and can’t tote extra weight,’ Calamity growled. her nervous tension preventing her from explaining that she could not risk the other girl’s life in the crossing.
    ‘But how do I get across?’ asked Eileen, the rain making her temper rise.
    ‘Look down there!’ Calamity snapped, pointing to the bed of the wagon. ‘See them things sticking out from under your dress? They’re feet, use ‘em.’
    ‘But I—’
    ‘Get out or I’ll throw you out!’ Calamity screamed. Something in the girl’s voice warned Eileen not to push Calamity any further. While Eileen willingly swapped word-warfare, she drew the line at physical conflict and so climbed from the wagon. A squeal left her lips as she sank ankle-deep into the mud. Hearing the sound of men approaching, Eileen turned. The wagonmaster, Bigelow and the other men came towards Calamity’s wagon but one look at their faces warned Eileen not to worry them