The Bandera Trail: The Trail Drive, Book 4 (Trail Drive S.) - Softcover

Compton, Ralph

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0312951434 ISBN 13: 9780312951436

Verlag: ST MARTINS PR, 1993

Inhaltsangabe

From bestselling author Ralph Compton—the extraordinary saga of a death-defying mission across the Texas border into the blazing heart of the Mexican war…

There are a thousand ways to die on a trail drive through Mexico. But a pair of bold Texans are willing to risk their lives, even take on Santa Anna’s army, to lead a herd of wild longhorns northward—and save a convicted man’s life...

Set on rescuing a friend trapped inside war-torn Mexico, Gild and Van Austin, nephews of Texas founder Stephen Austin, cross the border and soon discover half of Mexico’s army wants them dead. Taken prisoner by Santa Anna’s soldiers, the brothers make a daring escape and head into Durango county, where they stumble upon a valley full of longhorns—and a chance to build a future north of the border. All they have to do now is break their friend out of prison and drive their cattle to safety. But faced with outlaws, soldiers, and one dangerous woman, the Austins are finding out that this isn’t a trail drive, it’s a battle to reach the Bandera Range alive. And the only way to do it is the Texan way—fighting every bloody, dusty mile ahead…

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Ralph Compton stood six-foot-eight without his boots. His first novel in the Trail Drive series, The Goodnight Trail, was a finalist for the Western Writers of America Medicine Pipe Bearer Award for best debut novel. He was also the author of the Sundown Rider series and the Border Empire series. A native of St. Clair County, Alabama, Compton worked as a musician, a radio announcer, a songwriter, and a newspaper columnist before turning to writing westerns. He died in Nashville, Tennessee, in 1998.

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The Bandera Trail

By Ralph Compton

St. Martin's Press

Copyright © 1993 Ralph Compton
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-312-95143-6

CHAPTER 1

December 10, 1842. San Antonio, Republic of Texas. Gil and Van found the trio they were seeking, not far from the ruins of the Alamo, in a dirt-floor saloon. The three were conspicuous because it was a time when there were few unoccupied men in the territory. Most of those owning land grants were simply trying to survive, while others — especially the young men — had joined the militia and were clamoring for a fight with Mexico. Although it was broad daylight outside, the saloon was dark. The only light was a single guttering candle, its own wax holding it upright on a makeshift bar. There were no chairs. The tables were long X-frames, made of rough boards. The bench on each side was another rough plank, each end of which was pegged to the table's X-frame. Two of the wanderers sat with their backs to the door. The third man sat on the other side of the crude table, his back to the wall, and it was he who answered Gil's question.

"Yeah," he said, "we'd hire on fer a spell. Long as ye ain't askin' fer references."

His companions laughed. Gil said nothing. The stranger took that for agreement, and got to his feet. He was a gangling scarecrow of a man, seven feet tall without his hat. When the other two men stood up, the contrast was startling. The trio followed Gil and Van outside, and although there was a crude bench at the front of the saloon, none of them sat. They stood facing one another. The tall man spoke.

"Th' scrawny jaybird, here, is Shorty. T'other, with th' bug eyes, is Banjo. Me, I'm Long John Coons. An' see that ye keep it plural. First man calls me 'coon,' I'll gut him."

For emphasis, he drew a Bowie knife from his belt. It was a terrible weapon, looked sharp enough to shave with, and was. He drew the razor-keen blade along his lanky forearm, peeling off a patch of hair. Without a word he slipped the fifteen-inch knife under his belt. Gil nodded. The five of them mounted their horses and rode out, bound for the Bandera range.

December 12, 1842. The Bandera range, Republic of Texas.

Gil and Van saddled their horses and rode south, leaving their enormous land grant in the hands of three men about whom they knew little. Long John Coons was a Cajun, and there were rumors that he had left Louisiana by popular demand.

"I'm almighty uneasy about them three," said Van. "Long John, with that blade of his, just purely scares hell out of folks."

"That's why he's our segundo," said Gil. "Remember what old Granny Austin always said: an ounce of prevention's worth more'n all the cure that's to be had. I talked to Shorty and Banjo some. All they told me was, Long John's mama is a conjuring woman, and Long John's got an evil eye. Whatever that means."

"Maybe we're goin' at this all wrong," said Van. "I can't shake the feeling we oughta be takin' Long John and his pards with us." He sighed. "But we'd need an army to keep us alive. At the very least, we'll need a dozen good riders, if we're trail drivin' two hundred horses, and five thousand longhorns."

"Clay knows that," said Gil. "We'll have to count on him havin' a plan of his own. But you know Clay Duval; he's always long on courage, but a mite short on common sense. Once he's made up his mind, he'd bridle the devil, ride the joker without a saddle, and rake him with gut hooks all the way. I concede we could use the horses and longhorns, but we can't sneak 'em out of Mexico in our saddlebags."

"Knowin' how mule-stubborn Clay is," said Van, "I'll bet you a horse and saddle he won't leave all that livestock behind and just run for it."

"He may not have a choice," said Gil. "By the time we get to him — if we do — we'll have some idea as to the odds of any of us gettin' out alive. Remember, Alexander Somervell has an expedition somewhere along the border right now."

"Yeah," sighed Van, "I know. By the time we get to the river, them Mex soldiers are goin' to be almighty eager to get their hands on some Texans. Any Texans. Especially a pair that's fool enough to ride right into their midst."

"We won't make it easy for them," said Gil. "We'll ride at night. But they'll have the advantage, knowin' the country. Ridin' in don't bother me as much as ridin' out. By the time we're ready to leave, Santa Anna will have had time to force-march the rest of the Mexican army between us and the Rio Grande."

December 24, 1842. Laredo, Mexico.

Gil and Van found the town tense and virtually deserted. The inhabitants peered nervously from their log-and-mud huts. Seven horsemen rode wearily along the bank of the river, approaching the town from the east.

"Hey," cried Gil, recognizing the lead rider. "That's Ben McCulloch!"

Gil waved his hat, and the lead rider veered the little column toward them. Benjamin McCulloch was from Tennessee, and had been a close friend to David Crockett. McCulloch had been at San Jacinto, with Gil, Van, and Clay fighting under his command. Only recently had McCulloch begun scouting for the Texas Rangers. McCulloch halted his column and trotted his horse forward to meet Gil and Van.

"Cap'n Mac," said Gil, "what're you doing here?"

"Gettin' the hell out," growled McCulloch, "while I can. Take some good advice, the pair of you, and ride back the way you come."

"I wish we could," sighed Van, "but we got business in Mexico."

"I hope it's worth your life, then," said McCulloch.

Gil explained their mission, and the Ranger shook his head. With some bitterness, he spoke.

"Son, when you see the Rangers backin' off, it's time to call in the dogs and ride. Somervell had six hundred men, managed to take Laredo and Guerrero, but he's ordered his troops to head for home, by way of Gonzales."

"Have they?" Gil asked.

"About two hundred of them have," said McCulloch. "The rest of them have left the command, elected William Fisher as their leader, and aim to attack the Mex settlements across the river."

"Sounds like a fool move," said Van. "Is that why you're pullin' out?"

"Damn right," said McCulloch. "The Rangers are here on orders from Sam Houston, as scouts for the Somervell expedition. But I don't figure we owe Fisher and the rest of these damn fools anything. We done all we could. We rode across the river to Mier and reconnoitered the town. The Mex army is gathering there, and I warned Fisher. He ignored my warning, and yesterday they had a look for themselves. Tomorrow, they aim to cross the river and attack the town."

"But you don't think they can take it and hold it," said Gil.

"No," said McCulloch. "They'll be killed, or taken captive."

"Then we can use that as a diversion," said Van, "and get into Mexico without being seen."

"You likely can," said McCulloch, "if you're hell-bent on going. It's about ninety miles to Mier, and you'd best ride well beyond there, before you cross the river."

Gil and Van rode until past midnight before making a cold camp.

At first light, Gil built a small fire, while Van brought in their picketed horses. They cooked and ate their meager breakfast, put out the fire, and mounted up.

"Merry Christmas," said Van.

"Yeah." Gil grinned. "What do you want, most of all?"

Van sighed. "To get back to Bandera range without havin' my carcass shot full of Mex lead or Injun arrows."

"I'd settle for that too," said Gil, and he didn't smile.

They pushed their horses as hard as they dared, and it was an hour before sundown when they first heard the...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: ST MARTINS PR
• Erscheinungsdatum: 1993
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0312951434
• ISBN 13: 9780312951436
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 368
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar