The Trail to Perdition

"Figure we're about a day, day and a half behind them," John offered just after dusk. They had camped at one of the few water holes in the area.

"Drivin the cattle and maybe leading some horses will slow em down," Justin remarked. "Got any idea where they're headed?"

"My guess is they're headed for Perdition." John replied.

"What the hell is Perdition?" Justin asked.

"Funny you should ask that way," Tom said with a laugh. "Perdition means eternal damnation or hell." He chuckled again. "It's an outlaw town in the Alvarez Mountains," Tom answered. "Comancheros run the place and Jack runs the Comancheros."

"The law just lets it be?"

"Too hard a nut to crack I guess," Tom said. "Perdition sits in large box canyon back in the mountains. Only one way in or out of that canyon and there's forty or fifty men down there." He took a drink of coffee. They'd made a fire and had a hot meal that evening. It would be cold camps with beans, biscuits, and jerky for food from now on. "Can't wait em out either. They got enough food to last a year or more and there's a good spring right at the base of the canyon."

"Take a full company of cavalry to root that many out," Justin said. "I know we're about as good as there is in the territory but how do you expect just three of us to do much?"

"When you can't use the front door you go around to the back," John said. Looking at Tom he asked, "Right Tom?"

Tom grinned and nodded. "I've got an idea that's just crazy enough to work. Tell you more when we get there."

"Sure gonna miss my evenin coffee," John said. "Course we have to travel light to catch them."

"We should cache some supplies here at the water hole. We may be in a bit of a hurry comin back this way. Tom suggested. "There's a little village called Aqua Fria bout five miles from the trail head into Perdition, We'll resupply there on the way in. May not have the time later."

Aqua Fria's name meant "cool water" but the name was misleading. The sleepy little village did have a spring and the water was indeed cool but it tasted horrible because of the sulfur content. The rocks around the spring were stained yellow and green. A man or animals could drink the water and it was preferable to dying of thirst, but just barely.

As they rode into Aqua Fria at dusk the next evening they could smell the sulfur spring and see a dust trail still hanging the air. "Almost caught em before they got here," Justin said. "Too bad we didn't, cause from what you say Tom it's gonna be a bear goin into that canyon."

"I've been thinkin," John said. "How do you know so much about Perdition Tom?"

"Been scouting it off and on ever since I became a Deputy. I want Texas Jack real bad but there's no way I could go in there alone. Thought if the Army or the Arizona Rangers ever decided to go in, I'd be able to give them the lay of the land."

"But there's only three of us now," Justin said. "I don't see how two more men's gonna make a difference."

"It won't, but you two ain't going in; just me." Tom saw the surprised look on his friends faces. "Weren't no reason for me to force the point before; thought I'd catch Jack away from Perdition one day. Now I don't have a choice; I've got to get Etta out of there."

"But..." Justin began.

"What I need from you two is covering fire when I come up that trail with Etta. I tell you about it tonight when we get to the rim. I know a spot where we can see the floor of the canyon. Get some rest; we're pullin out at dusk."

Just after 11:30 that night the three friends stopped their horses about a hundred feet from the rim of the canyon. Tom dismounted as did Justin and John. They walked bent low until near the rim and then went down on their hands and knees.

The box canyon was spread out below them like a big hole in the ground. On the open end of the canyon a wagon trail had been built and it wound between piles of rock and brush. It forced wagons or riders coming into the outlaw hideout to ride back and forth around them. There was a small stream from a fresh water spring meandering along the far side of the canyon. On the floor below was a sort of town; mostly lean-tos and shacks but there was one large two story building made of adobe. There appeared to be two wells near this ramshackle collection of buildings.

Quietly Tom pointed out the features of the settlement. "That narrow trail in means any attacking force would only be able to ride two or three men across. Jack's men could sit back and mow them down as they came in. That big place is Jack's. He and two or three of his most trusted men live there. The shacks and such are for the rest of the gang. There are usually 15 to 20 of Jack's men down there. There are another 15 or so living down there that aren't part of Jack's band but they're just as bad."

As Tom talked he used a telescoping spy glass to look over the outlaw camp. There were several large campfires burning so the area was almost as bright as day. "Somebody holed up here, several years ago had some education. He named the place 'Perdition'. Heard tell he was gonna call it 'Hell' but there was already a town by that name in Texas and it had been wiped out by the Texas Rangers. He thought it would be bad luck to use the name again." The three slowly crept back to their horses.

"So how do you plan to rescue Etta with just three men against, what 30 or 40 guns?" Justine asked.

Tom took off his hat, pulled a serape over his head, and added a very wide brimmed sombrero. "Got these back in Aqua Fria to wear when I go into that canyon. "Did you notice anything special when we scouted the place?"

John was the one that nodded and responded, "Seemed to a party going on. Must have been going all night because there's a lot of drunks laying around."

Tom smiled and replied, "That's right. I figured they would have a big shindig after a successful raid. Fact is I was countin on it. "I'm gonna pull this sombrero down low, ride in and act like one of the Comancheros. Have a drink or two, maybe dance with one of the women, then I'll mosey over to the house. When I find Etta we'll start up the trail. If any of them catch on I'll hang back and cover her."

"What happens if you can't get out?" Justin asked.

"If Etta comes to the head of the trail without me, y'all ride. Don't wait on me, don't try to come get me; just get her safe." Tom shook his head as the men protested. "McCoy and the others should be right behind us. If you can get to them, you'll be safe and so will Etta. The Marshal told me he was going to put together a 30 or 40 men posse or get a troop of cavalry if he could." He hesitated, looked his friends in the eye and added, "If they get past me and catch you, y'all don't stand much chance. Don't let them take Etta back in there."

John slowly nodded understanding what Tom was asking. Justin looked back and forth between Tom and John, and then he too understood. Heaving a big sigh Justin nodded. "We won't let them have her again; you've got my word on it."

Nodding at Justin, Tom said, "I need to switch horses with you until I get out of there. Cochise is too good an animal for one of those bandits to be riding; if I rode him in they'd know I wasn't one of them." He held up his hand to stop Justin's protest. "I know Blackie is a fine horse, but Cochise is a mite showy and will stand out."

As Tom mounted Justin's horse he said, "Boys I'm not tryin to get killed but it's my job, Hell, it's my duty to get Etta back home. If she comes out by herself, put her on Cochise and tell her to ride. Y'all will need to ride rear guard. That big horse will get her back to McCoy or if necessary back to Tucson; no one will catch him. See you in a couple of hours." Tom nodded at his friends one last time, rode to the trail head, and started the winding path into the canyon.

He passed one look out, grunted, and waved riding as if he were drunk. The man laughed and said something about not falling off your horse. Tom rode on toward the big house. The open area in front of the main building was littered with people in various stages of drunkenness. Lying on the ground, draped over chairs, or leaning up against lean-tos and shacks, several men, and women, were passed out. There were still about ten or twelve people drinking and raising hell.

Tom tied Blackie loosely to a hitching rail beside two other horses. Blackie turned his head toward the other horses and sniffed. He moved sideways away from them as if he didn't want to associate with the outlaw's horses.

"Didn't know you were so particular," Tom whispered and smiled at the big horse as he rubbed its nose. "Don't worry, I'll be back to get you soon so you behave."

He turned and slowly made his way toward the rowdy crowd. He saw a half full bottle of tequila by a sleeping drunk and picked it up. Tom took a long drink, spilled some of the liquor down his shirt and playing drunk staggered to join the celebration.

"Have a drink amigo," Tom said offering the bottle to one of the men watching a Mexican woman dance in the center of the group as two men played guitars. The man nodded and turned to bottle up and took two big swallows.

"Where's the patron?" Tom asked.

"Over to the house, guarding that woman we took outside of Tucson."

"Guarding her or playing with her?"

"Naw, he's guarding her. Toby over there," the man pointed to a man lying face up in front of the big house with blood on his face, "tried to get friendly with the woman and Jack near beat him to death."

"Jack's saving her for himself I guess," Tom said.

"Not that way. He said he's gonna trade her to some Mexican bandit down in Sonora for a lot of gold. Gonna leave tomorrow sometime. Jack told us all to leave the woman alone. Said the Mex would want a fresh woman not one that's been picked over." The man took another drink from the offered bottle. "But Toby didn't listen, thought he could sneak in there and have some fun without Jack finding out. Considerin how he looks, I reckon he was wrong."

Tom nodded, took a drink, and gave the bottle to the man. When he turned up the bottle to drink, Tom walked away. He took a roundabout path to a side wall of the house and followed it to the rear. Two guards, leaning against the back wall, were talking about how bad Jack had beaten Toby.

"Now Jack's got her up in that second floor room in the back," one said. "Got a man outside the door and us down here to make sure no one gets to her. I haven't seen her but she must be a real fine filly for Jack to go to all this trouble."

There was a wooden balcony steps leading up that ran the whole length of the second story of the house. The guards were stationed at the foot of the steps and faced away from the corner of the house where Tom stood. He pulled his pistol and quietly made his way closer to the guards. When he got within three feet Tom hit the man on his left over the top of his head with the pistol. As that man fell, Tom backhanded the man on the right. The pistol acted like a club and both men went down. Holstering his weapon, he threw their weapons into the darkness and pulled the men closer to the building under the balcony.

Tom went up the stairs and saw two windows, about ten feet apart, facing the balcony. There was light showing through one of them. He stepped lightly and walked over to that window and peaked around into the room. Etta was sitting on a bed with her hands and feet tied. Other than a bruise on her cheek she seemed to be okay. Her clothes were a little dirty but not torn or ripped and her hair was coming out of the bun she normally wore when she rode. Etta's eyes were bright and there was color in her cheeks.

"You're a real brave man," she yelled at the closed door. "Took three of you to tie up one woman. I bet your mothers are very proud of you."

"Shut up or I'll put a gag on ya," a man's voice came from the other side of the door but he didn't open it. "You won't be so feisty when the Mex gets done with ya."

Tom smiled and thought, Etta ain't hurt she's just mad as hell. He looked around, listened for several seconds and climbed through the window. Etta turned toward the window saw Tom and took a deep breath to scream. Tom swept the sombrero off and she recognized him. She smiled and started to speak. He held up his hand to quiet her, walked to the door, and listened. Turning he came back to Etta, pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, and cut her loose.

"I thought you were another of the bastards that wanted to attack me. Their leader, Texas Jack they called him, beat a man half to death earlier this evening for trying it."

"You okay?" Tom asked in a very low voice as he softly touched the bruise on her cheek. Etta nodded and put her arms around Tom's neck.

"I didn't think anyone would come to help me."

"Etta, I'll always come for you. You have to believe that. How'd you get the bruise?"

"I fought them when they grabbed me off my horse and one of the men hit me." She leaned over and kissed Tom for the first time. "Thank you."

Tom smiled at the kiss. "We can talk about this again when we get out of here. I'll find another horse and we'll ride up the trail slow like. If hell breaks loose you ride on out; I'll fight rear guard until you get to the top. John and Justin are waitin up there for us."

"I can't just leave you," Etta protested.

"You can't help me and the whole idea is to get you safe back in Tucson. Be sorta dumb to let you get caught again. Please Etta do as I say."

She nodded and Tom led her across the room and out the window. They made their way down the stairs and when they reached the bottom Tom walked over to the two men on the ground. He took a serape and a hat off one of them and gave them to Etta.

"Put these on. We'll look like the rest of them dressed like this." Tom put his sombrero back on and led her toward Blackie.

He adjusted the stirrups on Blackie. "This is Justin's horse Blackie, you ride him out. I'll just borrow one of these horses." He helped her mount, got himself up on a sorrel, and they slowly rode toward the trail. About half way through the wagon trail, the hell Tom talked about broke loose.

"Guess they found the two guards," Tom said when he heard the noise coming from the Comancheros camp. "Go Etta, ride out. I'm right behind you."

They put their horse into a fast lope and soon got came to the end of the wagon trail. Justin and John were waiting for them.

"I think we're gonna have company," John said. "They're running around trying to get horses saddled.

"Best we ride," Justin suggested.

"Etta switch horses with Justin," Tom said.

"This is your horse, Cochise," she said as she mounted the big Appaloosa. "Why aren't you riding him?"

"We didn't come all this way to let you get caught again. Cochise is the best horse in the county. If we have to run far, he'll get you home." Tom rode closer to Etta.

"If they catch up to us, one of us will be rear guard. No matter what happens you keep riding. Don't stop just keep riding. Marshal McCoy and a posse should be close by now. Get to them."

Etta started to protest and Justin said, "Don't do no good to argue with him Miss. He's as stubborn as a Missouri mule."

"We gonna sit here and talk all night or are we gonna ride?" John asked. "I say we ride and argue about all this when we get Miss Etta safe."

"Least we got a Hunter's Moon," Justine said looking up at the full moon. "Got light enough to ride by."

"Gives them light enough to follow us too," Justine said.

"Lead out John," Tom said. "I'll cover our back trail."

John, followed by Etta and Justin, kicked his horse into a high gallop and rode back toward Aqua Fria. They would ride hard for the first 30 minutes or so and then slow to a ground swallowing lope. Tom gave them a two hundred yard head start and followed, looking back over his shoulder.

About ten minutes later as Tom topped a small rise just before they came to Aqua Fria and looked back. The light from the full moon allowed him to see the riders coming after them. Some of the riders carried torches. They spotted the little group and turned toward them.

Tom closed ranks with the others and shouted, "We got company. I'll hang back and discourage them some."

As the others rode on, Tom dismounted, pulled his Winchester, and knelt behind an adobe wall on the outskirts of the small village. He used it as a support for his rifle and waited for the followers to get into range. The horse he'd taken from the hitching rail wasn't as good as the ones his friends were riding. It was already showing faint signs of fatigue from the ten minutes of galloping. Reckon I should have stole a better horse, Tom thought with a grim smile.

The raiders were at 150 yards when Tom opened up on them. The range was too great for accurate shooting but he was just trying to slow them down; if he hit anyone so much the better. The bandits pulled up their horses and dismounted. They fired back at Tom and he could see their bullets strike the ground about 50 yards from him.

One shot hit the wall in front of Tom. Damn, he thought, one of them has a long barreled Sharps or a buffalo gun. Hadn't counted on that. He fired, off and on, for another ten minutes and then mounted and rode away. For the next two hours the cycle was repeated. Tom would stop, fire a few shots, and ride on. Each time the outlaws would dismount and return fire. Most of the bullets were short but every once in a while the buffalo gun would hit close to Tom. Each time the bandits didn't wait as long to remount and they made up ground on Tom as he fought a rear guard action.

Can't keep this up much longer, Tom thought. My horse is about done in and they're getting closer. Best find a spot to make a stand. If I can hold them off for another hour, Etta and the others can get away.

After two more stops, Texas Jack and his men had closed to within a 75 yards. Now Tom's shooting began to pick men out of their saddles before they could dismount and find cover. But the raiders were also in range and it was getting more dangerous to stop. He'd shoot and get them to stop but their return fire peppered whatever cover Tom had found. Bout one more run before they overtake me, Tom thought as he mounted. Need to find a stand.

The horse Tom was riding was really laboring and had slowed down considerably. Don't have much left in him, Tom thought. He saw a rock outcropping and decided that was the place to settle and try to hold off the Comancheros. I need to hold them for about another 30 minutes, he thought. Tom looked over his shoulder and his followers were close enough that he could make out features of the men.

He kicked the horse in the flanks trying to get one more burst of speed out of the tired animal. Tom got to the rocks and dismounted. He quickly set up a defensive position and waited for the bandits to top the rise leading up to his position.

The outlaws topped the rise lead by a man with long hair that streamed behind him as he rode. Tom shot at the leader and saw his horse go down. "Don't think I hit him but I got his horse, Tom muttered.

The man with the hair quickly mounted another horse that had belonged to one of the men Tom had shot. Tom could see and almost hear the man yelling at his men to continue. They regrouped and rode at toward the rocks. Tom continued to make them pay for following him. He'd hit another three men when shots erupted from behind him. He turned and saw McCoy leading a troop of U.S. Army cavalry. Thirty soldiers joined by McCoy charged the Comancheros. Justin, John, and Etta stopped by Tom's position. John handed the young deputy a canteen and Etta jumped off her horse and hugged him.

After taking a big drink from the canteen Tom said, "Sure took y'all long enough. What'd you do stop for coffee?"