Bub Davis stood on top of the short grassy hill overlooking the land that once had belonged to his mother and father. His parents had moved into the town limits twelve miles away about seven years after his father returned home from the war that divided the country. He was only fifteen at the time, but with his older brother and sister’s help, his parents were hopeful they could handle the ranch. Now that he was twenty one they all had plenty of experience raising the cattle they let free range on the seven thousand acres of grass land they owned.
Bub held his horse’s reins between his right arm and the side of his body, he struck a match with his right hand against the leather of his belt holster that housed the long barreled Colt he was given from his father, and lit the corn cob pipe hanging from his teeth. As Bub puffed at the pipes stem, the straight Virginia tobacco that he loved smoked to life as it grew hotter with each inhale. As the first full hit of tobacco left his lungs he vaguely recalled the day his father had returned home from the war. He remembered the knife wound his father showed him that a Confederate had placed deep into his leg severing his muscle and nerves. The wound Bub remembered would end his father’s hopes of being able to effectively bring the ranches cattle to market quality providing enough money to support the family and buy new land.
As he mounted his dark gray quarter horse, Bub smiled at the thought of trust his parents had put into him and his siblings. His mother had fought against the idea all she could. He knew it stressed her to think of them out here fending for themselves so far away from her. His mother had soon realized though that father was right, he could make enough to keep us fed, but with his bad leg he wouldn’t be able to provide much of a future for all of us on the ranch.
“Come on Duncan,” Bub whispered as he urged his horse down the small hill towards the cattle grazing at the bottom of it. Bub was proud of the fact that they had brought their parents ranch from about three hundred head of cattle to just under a thousand. Although it was a substantial amount of cattle to keep track of it seemed a few were missing here and there these days. He assumed coyotes or sickness had gotten to them, but he could never find their remaining carcasses or any bones. His brother and he had searched most of the land for any signs of cattle straying away from the rest of the herd or any that were sick or dying, they had come up with nothing.
Bub overlooked the cattle one last time and feeling secure they were content for a while; he cut his horse back west towards the house. There he would meet up with his brother and sister and voice his concerns over the sliming herd. It was still early in the morning he thought, after breakfast A.J. and I should head out and search again for any signs of the missing cattle.
He was deep in thought when it first caught his attention. He hadn’t traveled more than thirty feet or so from the herd when he seen the dark stain on the ground. He quickly dismounted his horse and stared at the blood stained ground realizing what he had thought all along was true. “Some ones been hunting and eating my dam cattle,” he stated in anger to himself. The blood had dried but from his experience he could tell it hadn’t been there very long at all. “But what happened to the remains?” he whispered to himself. He quickly searched the area for hoof prints from a horse or drag marks of the dead animal being hauled off by the killer, but all he could see was the ground had been too trampled on by the remaining herd to come up with any more information.
He had just given up hope and started to remount his horse to head home when he noticed something sticking out of the ground about ten feet away from the blood stained area. It was crudely made but he could tell as soon as he got into range what it was. “An Indians arrow?” he whispered to himself puzzled. “They all left this area years ago,” He stated. Before his father moved into town he had told all the kids there was a time you could be scared to come across Indians here and there on the land, but they all left years ago following the buffalo north or heading to reservation lands trying to reclaim what was left of their lives.
Bub could tell the arrow hadn’t been there for very long because of the condition of the wooden shaft. He quickly looked around again and came to the conclusion that the arrow would have been trampled by now had it been sticking in the dirt here for very long. “It had to be what was used to hunt my cows,” Bub stated to himself content that is what the evidence had pointed to. He took a long draw on his still lit pipe and stood up grasping the arrow in his left hand still looking it over. He walked back over to his horse and secured the arrow in his rifle scabbard. He threw his leg over the horse’s saddle and pulled on the reins as he angrily stated, “Come on Duncan, we have a dam cattle thief to hunt down!” He pointed his horse west and headed towards the house three miles away.
3
A.J. stood up very slowly and lifted his arms towards the sky as he yawned and stretched out his body the best he could. A.J. loved sleeping out on the open range of their land most of the time, with the three of them having to share a two room house, it always seemed cramped to him. A.J. preferred the freedom of living outdoors and felt that he slept better breathing the fresh air instead of dust all night from the old house his parents had given to them. On occasion his younger brother Bub would join him for a night out on the prairie when their sister Soph got to Bubs nerves. Bub and A.J. would stay up most the night drinking and going over the highlights of their lives.
When A.J. slept out on the land he would mostly stay only about two miles directly north of the house. If need be he could be back to the small home quickly if it started to rain too hard or other emergencies arose. This location was close to one of the three wooded areas the ranch had as well. This gave him the option to hunt his own food instead of having his sister cook for him. It also had a partial over hang in the side of a small hill that he could tuck into if it started to rain and he didn’t feel like hurrying back to the house.
A.J. wasn’t as strong or well-built as his younger brother, however what he lacked in strength he made up for in speed. Growing up he entered numerous local shooting competitions and had become quiet fast and accurate with his pistol for his young age of twenty two. He also chose the quickest rifle he could cheaply purchase at the time, the Henry lever action .44. He was quick and deadly at close ranges of about fifty yards or so with it, but much past that he had to really take his time to be very accurate, it was his brother that was the long distance shooter.
A.J. chose the Smith & Wesson Schofield .45 instead of a Colt like his brother carried. In his mind the Schofield was the top choice of a quick draw shooter, it held a bigger round, had a top break barrel for quicker reloads either on foot or horse back, and a shorter barrel for quick clearance of his holster.
Because he was so fond of staying outside most of the time A.J. was a definite sight to see. His once light tan Stetson had had been stained from the sweat and dirt that A.J. had grown accustomed to living in. He wore dark pants that got holes in them often enough his sister expected to sew them shut every time he showed up at the house. He had a dark gray button down shirt, black cowboy boots, and a red kerchief he wore around his neck religiously. The one thing he did manage to do, that was odd from the rest of his look, was to keep clean shaven unlike his brother who usually wore a thick black mustache or beard.
A.J. kicked dirt on the fire next to where he was sleeping just to make sure it was out. He then rolled up his bed kit into a somewhat organized bundle and secured it behind the saddle on his dark brown horse. Grabbing the lead that was held under some small rocks he threw his legs up and over the horse. “Think I will visit sis this morning Coffee,” he said to his horse. “Hopefully she will have some breakfast for us both.”
He loved his sister very much but never did care for her cooking. His sister Soph definitely hadn’t paid any attention to their mother who was a wonderful cook. Even though he and Bub complained often they ate Sophs cooking anyways for lack of wanting to cook for themselves most of the time.
Before he urged the horse south he started thinking of his ma and
pa and how much he missed them since they moved to town, but he knew that was what was best for them both. Father’s injury would have worn him to death before long working the ranch he thought, at least we kids were able to return the favor and afford them a decent life in the city. We had brought the ranch to enough profit to support us all very well. A.J. was proud of his family and himself for what they had accomplished.
As he turned his horse to face south and head for the house he noticed two riders in the distance headed towards the east. They were too far away to make out any great detail except that it was two riders and they were heading away from him. “Must be Bub trying to find the cattle to try and sell to someone,” he spoke aloud to Coffee. “Think he would have at least alerted me first knowing where I slept though.” A.J. shrugged it off and started back towards the house for what he hoped would be a hot breakfast.
As he rode along he thought of the income another good sell of cattle would provide. His brother and he had worked hard through most of the summer now to fatten up the cattle to sell off before winter. They were a little