Road To Amnesty
That single night, more than three years past now, when Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes stood in the office of Sheriff Lom Trevors, watching him blow the dirt and dust from that stack of money collected from the bank explosion, well Kid and me stood right there in his office and heard his words as plain as day. One year. The governor had told Lom that Kid and me had to wait one lousy year, and the amnesty would be ours.
That year somehow turned into two, then into three and now, well now we're into our fourth year of waiting. You'd think it would start getting easier being as we ain't committed no crimes. The posses keep chasing us, the bounty hunters keep hunting us, sheriff's keep dogging us. We never stay in one place more than three days for fear someone will find a way to connect the dots and figure out who we are.
In the past three months we've outrun four posses, escaped the throes of two separate bounty hunters, avoided a head on collision with a deputy that we both knew would recognize us on site, and very narrowly avoided being recognized by a band of outlaws that robbed a stage we was traveling on.
Now most of the time Kid and me are of the same mindset, meaning we're still committed to one day grabbing that golden ring called amnesty. But every once in a while one or the other of us will lose sight of that goal, or just start to doubt the current governor's commitment to that goal. When that happens, the responsibility falls on the other one to stay committed and bring the other one back on board. Sometimes it takes a little while, but that system has worked for us.
That is, maybe until now...
Kid and me had spent three quiet days in Cody, Wyoming, and likely could have stayed longer except for that fact that we've always had a rule during our amnesty years that three days is the limit in any town. We both believe that the longer we stay in one place, the more likely it becomes that someone might recognize us. So the morning after that third night, we packed our belongings, paid our bills, and headed leisurely out of town, heading east toward Sheridan.
We hadn't gone more than fifteen miles out of town when we passed a buckboard driven by a middle aged couple with two teenage girls riding in the back. Being cordial, Kid and me tipped our hats to them as we passed. But there's a look that spreads across a person's face when they recognize one or both of us and the woman in the buckboard had that look.
And that's where this story begins...
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"She recognized us, Heyes. That means an hour from now the sheriff in Cody is going to be forming a posse," Kid said when they were safely out of earshot.
"Uh-uh."
"And he'll likely wire the sheriff in Sheridan, so there'll be a second posse forming."
"Which gives us two options, Kid. We can go south or north."
"This time of year, the mountains to the north are going to be snow covered, making travel harder."
"For them as well as us."
"South has more towns to join in the chase."
"Flip a coin?"
Kid nodded and rubbed his brow.
"Heads we go north, tails we go south."
Heyes pulled a coin from his pocket and tossed it in the air. Catching it, he slapped it against the back of his hand, then slowly lifted his hand to expose the coin. "Guess we're going north."
"Well, we've got at least a two hour head start. With a little luck, we might make it into Montana by the time they get this far."
Kid kicked the sides of his chestnut and broke into a fast gallop. Heyes was right on his tale. They rode hard, stopping to give their horses rest and water only when necessary.
They reached the top of Devil's Canyon late in the afternoon. A thousand feet below the tall granite peaks was the meandering Bighorn River. This was Crow Indian territory and Bighorn sheep, rattlesnakes, wolves, and bears were abundant. A little further north, wild stallions roamed the range. There was no safe path to descend to the river, so their only choice was to turn east or west till they reached a place where the land lay flat again, and hope they did not come face to face with any of life's wild dangers.
Turning to observe the land they has just crossed, Kid spied a ground cloud of dust. "That's three, maybe four hours behind us. If we can get to flat land before dark, Heyes, we can probably lose them for good. They aren't going to get this far tonight, and even if they did, they ain't gonna be trying to travel along these edges in the dark."
Well, Kid was right. We did manage to lose those posses. We don't know where along the trail they decided to call it quits, but they did. The trouble was, there was no safe way for us to go back into Wyoming from the north, at least not for a few weeks; and heading north into Montana was going to take us into snow country which was not a particularly inviting option to us.
"We could head west toward the Yellowstone, from there turn north into Idaho," Kid suggested. "Then head back into Jackson and head into Wyoming from a southern route."
Heyes nodded. It was neither the most direct, nor the safest route to choose, but their options were dwindling fast.
Reaching the end of the canyon shortly before nightfall, they found a sheltered area behind some rocks to make camp. Neither spoke much, both weary from the chase by yet another posse, and both wondering why, after three years of no criminal activity, were Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes still the most recognizable outlaw since Butch and Sundance? They built a small fire, strategically placed behind a large boulder so as to avoid it being spotted, ate warmed beans and coffee, then settled in for a light sleep, both always on the alert.
They traveled hard and fast for three days, planning to dip south into Jackson to replenish supplies and maybe even get a bath and a night in a hotel bed. But when they reached the pass leading into the valley that would take them to Jackson, they spotted a group of a dozen men riding hard across the valley in their direction. They could only surmise that via their nemesis, the telegraph, the sheriff in Cody had notified the Jackson sheriff of their likely path.
"It's gonna take us at least a day to find a new route, Heyes. We're about outta food, and the horses can't keep up this pace."
"Neither can we," Heyes admitted in a moment of weakness. "They're six, maybe seven hours away right now, but we'll be moving slower and they'll bridge that gap considerably."
Kid looked north toward the snow covered mountains and the approaching gray skies that threatened more inclement weather. "There's nothing west for a hundred miles, maybe more. Could maybe head to Butte, then on to Missoula. I don't see another option."
"We'll head back to where the pass split, then move down into the tree line. We can split up there if the snow's not too heavy, and meet up in Missoula in a week."
Kid nodded and gave the sky another study, knowing the likelihood of the snow being light was not too probable even at a lower elevation. But he pulled hard on the reins and they both headed back the way they had come.
It took the rest of the afternoon to reach the point where the pass had forked off into the northerly direction that Heyes and Curry had originally chosen not to take. From this location, it was impossible to see the valley, thus impossible to know exactly where the posse was, or whether they still had a safe lead.
"We still have a couple of hours of daylight. Let's move on and see if we can't reach the tree line. If we can, we'll split up in the morning," Heyes suggested.
Kid nodded. They needed rest and they needed food, and they needed to find a safe location for both. They headed north west along the pass, and by the time they stopped for the night, they were hard pressed to find a spot that would shield the visibility of a campfire, and protect them from the impending snow.
"I'm beginning to agree with you, Kid," Heyes said as they sat around the campfire, drinking the last of the steaming hot coffee.
"About what, I haven't said anything."
Heyes half chuckled. "Sure you have. You just ain't said it out loud."
"For the past two months, Heyes, all we've done is run. Running grows old pretty damn fast," Kid said, putting words to his thoughts.
"I know," Heyes said with a sigh.
"We're close enough, maybe we ought to start thinking about Canada."
"How about we both give that some thought when we split up and make a decision in Missoula?"
"If we both make it to Missoula. I don't like it when we split up."
Heyes took his last gulp of coffee. "Me neither," he replied.
"I'll head back toward the canyon, then head north," Kid said in a tone that left Heyes no room for argument. "If the snow's not too bad, I should make Missoula in a week."
"That leaves this trail north into Butte, then on to Missoula for me. If the snow's too bad, Kid..."
Kid was shaking his head as Heyes spoke. "We both gotta do it no matter what. We can't turn back without risking the posse catching us."
"Alright. A week from today, if only one of us has reached Missoula, that one will come looking for the other one."
Heyes waited for a response that was not forthcoming."Kid?" he prodded.
Kid sighed heavily. "We'll make it, Heyes. We don't have another choice."
They woke to several inches of freshly fallen snow that had doused the fire and covered their blankets. Building a new fire and heating beans and coffee would waste precious daylight travel time. Instead they divided their staples, giving Kid the more generous amount of their remaining food, repacked their saddlebags, and rolled up their damp bedrolls. Their final act was an unspoken exchange of hopes for good luck before Heyes started north and Kid headed east.
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For two days, the weather to the north could almost be considered mild with light winds and little snow accumulation, but at that higher elevation, it was plain to see the heavy snow clouds were far darker to the east and growing more and more ominous to the north as well. Reaching Butte, Heyes knew the remainder of his journey would be far more treacherous than the past two days, so he decided to get a hot meal in a cafe, spend the night in a warm hotel bed, and stock up on supplies before starting out the following morning.
Kid's travel was by far the more difficult of the two as snow was both heavy and relentless. The first night he found a sort of alcove in the rocks that provided some shelter from the snow. He made camp early, built a strong fire to dry his bedding, and dug down in the snow enough to give his horse the chance to find some winter grasses. He ate a can of beans and drank hot coffee. Then he trenched an area barely longer and wider than himself and used hot coals and the dirt he had shoveled to create a makeshift bed that would keep him warm for the night.
The second day out was more difficult than the first as the snow continued at a steady pace, but the winds picked up a notch, causing swirls of snow that whipped against Kid's face. As the snow deepened, the horse's pace naturally slowed, but with a hundred and twenty miles to go, Kid was confident he could still make Missoula on time.
Kid knew the provisions he carried would barely see him to his destination, and he watched for animal tracks in the snow. He was hoping to spy rabbit, or even fox, a small animal that could serve as a hot meal without being wasteful and drawing the attention of the larger and more aggressive animals. But by noon, the snow was falling so heavily that tracks were covered nearly as quickly as they appeared, and Kid knew he was in store for more beans and coffee for supper.
Neither Heyes nor Kid found any evidence of being followed or pursued. So, when Heyes started out on the third morning of his trip, he was comfortable traveling the road as much as he could determine. Some areas of the road were visible by the horse or wagon tracks that preceded him, while other areas offered no indication of the path the dirt road followed. Winds swirled and blew the snow, leaving a vast and open blanket of white. But like Kid, Heyes was a seasoned mountain traveler and knew Missoula lay a hundred and twenty miles to the north west, and he used the hazy sun to plot his path. Also like Kid, Heyes surmised that both men had about three more days of travel, and he wrapped a wool scarf around his face and neck and plowed on.
Travel was slow for them both and their thoughts often drifted to how the other was progressing. Knowing that together they were stronger and more capable, both hated to travel separately. Throughout the years of their partnership, their lives were less complicated, their safety much more assured when they traveled together, or in the security of the gang as was the case in their outlaw days. Traveling alone presented a plethora of dangerous risks such as one being spotted or arrested, and the other knowing nothing of the situation, thereby unable to offer any assistance. They both believed, whether true or not, that injuries were far more common when they traveled alone, and due to their somewhat self imposed isolated existence, loneliness was always a formidable contention.
Traveling the road, Heyes was fortunate to come across an abandoned cabin on the eve of the third night out. As luck would have it, a pile of dry wood had been left inside the cabin and Heyes was able to make a strong fire, eat a hot meal, and sleep in a warm cabin. But in the middle of the night, Heyes woke with a start and bolted upright from his bed. Every thought, every instinct in him told him something was suddenly amiss. A fear began to stir inside him and he followed his instincts and dressed and doused the fire, packed his belongings, and set out, guided solely by the moonlight, anxious to reach Missoula as soon as possible.
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Since their outlaw days, Kid Curry has instinctively slept with both ears somehow attune to his surroundings, so when Kid's chestnut began uttering slight squeals and whinnies, Kid' eyes shot open and his hand reached slowly for his weapon of choice, his fifty caliber Hawkin's rifle. Beyond that, Kid made no movement, but having only the moonlight and the low burning fire, his eyes swept the nearby area, settling on the slight but large shadowy movement just behind a tree some fifty yards away.
The horse's whinnies and nickers grew increasing more frantic and the horse kicked his hind legs into the air, but he was tethered to a branch and could not escape, and Kid dared not go so far as to stand and walk over to calm the frightened animal. But when the shadow moved and advanced slightly, Kid scrambled to his feet and raised his rifle to take aim at the massive predator.
The four hundred pound bear eluded Kid's sighting of a deadly posture, so Kid stood primed to shoot, but kept his finger from pulling the trigger. The horse, growing increasingly frightened, continued to squeal and kick his hind legs high. But when the bear moved from behind the tree, Kid still could not get a fatal aim.
That is until the bear began to lunge forward toward the horse who was now screaming. As the bear raised his front legs and lurched forward, his front legs stretched out and razor sharp claws aimed for the horse's hind flanks, Kid fired a shot directly into the skull of the deadly bear.
The bear was instantly dead, but the momentum of the animal continued to lunge the bear forward and as he dropped with a thud to the ground, ten claws tore into the horse's left flank, tearing hide, muscle, and tendon down the length of the chestnut's thigh and pulling the screaming horse to the ground as well.
Kid walked cautiously around the dead bear to assess the horse's injury. The wound was gaping and it was plain to see the animal would not survive. Kid raised his rifle a second time and fired the remaining shot and the horse was instantly stilled.
Kid lowered his rifle and dropped to his knees in the snow. He was physically unscathed, but Adrenalin surged through his body and he waited until thoughts beyond those of immediate survival began to surface once again.
He used the butt of the rifle to steady himself as he stood and looked at the two dead animals and the expanding pools of blood turning the white snow red. Knowing the scent of blood might attract other animals, Kid reloaded his rifle, then rested the rifle against the rump of the bear. There was work to be done.
He began walking about the immediate area in search of elusive pieces of firewood. He broke low lying dead branches from trees, and he piled these pieces near the fire. Next he searched for and found a long, wide piece of bark that he carried back to the areas of blood stained snow. He used the bark to scrape piles of clean snow toward the animals to cover the blood spots in several layers of white snow that he then packed hard over the predator-luring blood.
Kid knew that without a horse, and without shelter, he had little chance for survival. He moved to the bear and again dropped to his knees, this time near the bear's neck. He pulled his hunting knife from the sheath inside his boot and, clearing the snow from an area directly beneath the bear's neck, Kid began thrusting the knife into the frozen ground. He did this a dozen or more times until the ground was loosened and he could move it into a nearby pile, thus digging a cylindrical hole in the ground. Then he repeated the process several times, taking nearly an hour to dig a two feet deep hole in the ground. He laid the knife on the bear's shoulder and pulled at the bear's head to position the neck directly over the freshly dug hole.
Once satisfied with the bear's position, Kid picked up his knife and held the handle tight in his right palm. With his left hand, he buried his fingers into the underside of the bear's neck, searching for the bear's jugular vein. Once located, Kid shifted the knife in his hand, lowered his hand slightly into the hole, then thrust upward with all his strength then, quickly pulled the knife and his hand free, Kid watch the blood rush from the bear's vein and stream into the hole.
While the embalming process continued, Kid returned to his chestnut. He stroked the animal's neck and softly spoke his remorse to his trusty stead. Then he moved toward the deadly wound and began covering it too with piles of tightly packed snow.
When the blood from the bear stopped streaming into the hole, Kid used the pile of dirt to cover the clotting blood. Next he stoked the fire once again, then stood and walked over to his bedding. Carrying the two blankets in his hand, Kid moved to the belly and torso of the bear and again dropped to his knees.
Kid's survival instincts told him that the fire alone was not enough to keep him warm. He knew his fate, survival or death, depended on his staying warm in the frigid temperatures. He knew what had to be done next.
Again with the knife in the palm of his hand, Kid located the breastbone of the bear and moved his hand just a couple of inches down toward the torso. He forcefully stabbed the knife into the bear's underside, then pulled the knife down, opening the bear from breastbone to pelvis. Steam from the warmth of the animal's internal organs rose into the air as Kid struggled to force the opening as wide as he could. He pulled off his gloves and folded them through his belt. Then he reached into the belly of the carcass and eviscerated the animal, laying each organ on the blanket.
The smell was nauseating and Kid held his breath as much as possible. When all the organs had been removed, Kid used the second blanket to wipe the empty cavity as clean and dry as he could. He dropped that blanket on top of the organs, then gathered the four corners of the first blanket and dragged it as far from his camp as he could, knowing that wolves, coyotes, bears, or other predators would sniff out and feast on the organs.
Returning to the camp, Kid stood in the frigid cold and stripped himself naked. He laid his clothing along the outer edges of the camp fire to dry. His survival depended on keeping dry and warm and the moisture inside the carcass would soak into the clothing, thus sealing his fate.
Kid picked up his gun and holster, as well as his rifle and laid them close to the stench filled carcass. Using both arms, Kid lifted the top of the carcass as best he could, gave one final look to be sure the fire was well stoked for the remainder of the night, and crawled into the empty belly of the beast. At best he had six to eight hours of warmth retained in the fat of the bear. He let the upper side of the torso fall into place, fought off the nausea from the overwhelming stench, and waited for sunrise.
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Hannibal Heyes traveled without out rest for two days. Reaching Missoula two days ahead of schedule, Heyes didn't plan to wait to see if Kid arrived. The urgent gnawing of impending doom grew stronger with each passing minute.
Heyes went directly to the livery to trade his sorrel for a fresh animal and to rent a toboggan if possible. Winters in Montana were cold with heavy snowfalls often measured in feet rather than inches and the use of toboggans and sleighs to transport goods, equipment, and people were not uncommon. After hitching the toboggan to the fresh horse, Heyes made his way to the general store where he loaded up on wool blankets and food.
Running on nervous energy, Heyes did not take the time to sleep. He did take a few minutes to eat a hot meal and coffee, then started out in the direction and path he expected Kid would be using. He was certain Kid was in trouble, but he was uncertain as to the nature of that trouble, and he wanted to spare no time. As long as the moon was full and could provide him enough light to see, Heyes planned to travel night and day until Kid was located.
People (primarily Heyes), often joked that Kid could fall asleep anyplace, any time, but the putrid smell inside the bear's cavity effectively staved off sleep. Kid knew he had just a few hours of warmth and he knew being alone and without a horse he had little chance of survival. He had to find help, or rather help had to find him. So once the sun began to rise over the mountains, Kid fired a single shot into the air every hour and used the location of sun to determine the amount of time spent.
By mid morning, the carcass was cold and Kid climbed out of the belly and used handfuls of snow to clean whatever remnants of sinew, fat, and slime from his body. Still naked and barefoot, Kid walked over to the spot he had been sleeping earlier that night and rummaged through his saddlebags. There he found an extra pair of socks as well as a spare Henley and pair of long johns. He was grateful to find a half full box of bullets and nearly full box of rifle shells, but left both in his saddlebags to keep them dry.
The thought of food turned his stomach, but he knew in order to maintain his strength, he had to eat, so he grabbed one of the last two cans of beans and a small sack of coffee and carried these items to the fire.
Kid first donned the under clothing that had warmed by the fire, then added a second layer of under things before slipping into his pants, shirt, vest and Sherpa. He brushed the snow from his nearly numb feet and slipped into the warmed socks, then added a second pair before forcing his feet into his boots. The last thing he put on were his gloves. Even fully dressed, the wretched smell of the bear's internal cavity permeated through his clothing and kept his nauseated stomach churning.
He opened the beans and made some coffee and placed both items in the embers to warm. Then he went in search of any bits of additional firewood he could find. He added what he found to the dwindling pile of wood and realized he would have to ration the wood and maintain a smaller, less hot fire in order to keep the fire burning for another day or possibly two.
Before he sat down for breakfast, Kid fired off another shot, then forced himself to eat the beans and he willingly drank the coffee. He left the coffee pot in the embers so he could finish off the hot coffee throughout the day, and then pack the coffee pot with snow for hot water. He stayed by the fire most of the day and decided to forgo the last can of beans until breakfast.
When night fell, Kid didn't climb into the carcass, but did nuzzle up close to the underbelly fur of the bear for some added warmth. Once darkness fell, Kid did not bother to fire off any shots, assuming even Heyes would rest for the night. Without the benefits of a blazing fire or the warmth of the bear's cavity, the effects of the cold began to take their toll, the first of which was the hypothermia induced sleep that overtook him and set the stage for frostbite or even death.
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True to his conviction to locate his partner, Heyes continued to travel day and night, and the following morning, Heyes spied something off in the distance that he could not discern. What he saw far off in the distance appeared to be two or three fallen trees, their dark trunks resting atop the fallen snow. Given the amount of snow on the ground, Heyes knew felled or fallen trees were more likely to be buried. He continued on toward the odd appearing area and it was not until he was nearly upon the site that he realized that what he had thought to be trees was actually a dead bear and a dead horse.
Heyes recognized the horse as Kid's chestnut. He saw the remnants of a now smoldering fire that emitted small whiffs of smoke, too subtle to attract any attention. Still astride his horse, Heyes' eyes swept the area for signs of Kid. He spied Kid's saddle and saddle bags, but it was not until he approached the bear and dismounted that he saw Kid huddled against the fur of the bear.
Kid was asleep, almost to the point of a coma. Small flecks of crystallized ice covered Kid's eyebrows and hair. His lips had a blue hue. Heyes crouched down on his knees and gently rolled Kid to his back and he pressed an ear against Kid's chest, breathing a sigh of relief at the sound of the slowly beating heart. He carefully pulled Kid's gloves from his hands and saw that his fingers were stiff and frozen, the nail beds having the same blue hue as Kid's lips.
"I'm here, Kid. You're safe now. I'm gonna get you back to Butte. It's closer and we'll be there by nightfall. You hang on, partner. I'll get you to a doctor," Heyes said, knowing Kid could not hear him, but needing to offer his partner some words of comfort.
Heyes got up and raced to the toboggan and began emptying the contents onto the snow. He grabbed the pile of blankets and placed two, one on top of the other on the long base of the sled. Then he raced back to Kid and carefully piled blankets over his partner.
Heyes hurried back to the toboggan and led the sorrel up close to where Kid lay. Careful not to snap any frozen fingers, Heyes lifted his partner from the snow and carried him to the toboggan and gently laid him on the blankets, then tucked the covering blankets in to swaddle Kid snugly in place. He kept one end of the top blanket loose to pull over Kid's face to protect him from any further frostbite. He used his lasso to secure Kid in place, then packed the supplies onto the far end of the toboggan and secured them in place as well.
Heyes climbed onto his horse and gave the animal a gentle kick so as not to shake or jostle Kid too much in the toboggan. The horse seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and maintained a slow but steady and determined pace. Heyes turned often to check the position of the blankets and several times brought the horse to a standstill so he could dismount and retuck the blankets in snugly around his partner. Each time he pulled back the section of the blanket that covered Kid's head so he could check for color changes in Kid's skin and lips. As far as Heyes could tell, Kid's condition had remained stable, though to Heyes' disappointment, Kid remained unconscious.
They reached Butte shortly before the sun had fully set and Heyes headed directly for the doctor's office.
"He's bad off, near froze," Heyes told the doctor as the two men lifted Kid from the toboggan and carried him inside to one of two examination rooms.
Even before a full examination of his patient, Dr. Stuart could see the pasty pallor of Kid's skin and the gray blue color of Kid's lips and nails. During the transfer, Kid offered no sign of awareness or pain.
"How long has he been this way?" Dr. Stuart asked Heyes helped him remove Kid's Sherpa.
"I don't know. I just came across him this morning."
"So you don't know him?"
"I know him. We were supposed to meet in Missoula. When he didn't show up, I went looking for him. It looked to me like a bear had mauled his horse and Thaddeus, that's his name, Thaddeus Jones. He shot the bear dead. Looked like he had to do the same to his horse."
"You anticipated this possibility. I mean, bringing five wool blankets with you when you went searching for him... Well, you vary well may have saved his life."
"I'd say he done that himself, Doc. He gutted that bear, too. I'm guessing he spent the night in the bear's belly to stay warm."
"That sounds like he must have been conscious at least until sometime last night," the doctor replied.
"I'd say more likely sometime this morning. He had a pot of coffee and an empty can of food sitting in the coals."
"I'm hoping you are right. The less time he has been in this condition, the better his chances for a full recovery."
Dr. Stuart moved to the foot of the bed to remove Kid's boots and Heyes followed with the intention of helping. .
"Let me do this," Dr. Stuart said. "Toes might be frozen or frost bitten and could easily be damaged when removing the boots. Once I've examined his feet, you can help me get him out of these clothes and wrapped in a blanket. The warming must be done slowly to allow the body to adjust gradually so as to prevent shock and to minimize the pain of returning to a standard body temperature."
"It hurts to warm up?" Heyes asked.
"Frostbite pain is unique and warming the body is a slow process to avoid tissue damage. Limbs, hands, feet are especially susceptible to serious injury."
"All them blankets didn't hurt him, did they?"
Dr. Stuart shook his head. "You were in a frigid environment when you did that. If we were to do that immediately now that he's inside, it could be harmful, but you did exactly the right thing."
Dr. Stuart managed to remove the boots without harm and he then removed the socks to examine Kid's feet. Still, Kid had not so much as stirred.
Both feet had a shiny red appearance, but the small toe on the left foot also had two small red streaks that began at the base of the nail and ran about an inch and a half up the top of his foot.
"Something wrong?' Heyes asked.
"At this point, I'd say no, but it's something I want to keep a close eye on. Now, let's get him out of this clothing and get a blanket over him. We'll add one blanket at a time every five to ten minutes until his body temperature is normal. That should take twenty to thirty minutes."
Heyes helped the doctor remove Kid's clothing and spread a blanket over Kid. Then the doctor listened to Kid's heart and lungs. Next he examined Kid's fingers, hands, arms, and finally Kid's torso and legs.
"Well?" Heyes asked.
"His heart rate is a little slow, but I expect that to pick up as his body warms. Lungs sound fine. Hands and fingers have not reached the point of frostbite. As his body warms, he should begin to show signs of waking up. In all honesty, I think the actions you both took, very likely saved his life. My greatest concerns right now are restoring his normal body temperature, treating that toe, and seeing him come out of that unconsciousness."
"What can I do, Doc?' Heyes asked.
"You add the blankets every five to ten minutes. I'm going to treat that toe."
"Doc, what happens if you can't fix the toe?
"If I can't fix the toe, the tissue will die and within forty-eight hours the toe will turn black. The injury can deepen, leading to damage to the skin, muscles, even the bone."
"Then what?"
"Let's cross that bridge if we come to it. By the way, I don't believe you told me your name."
"Joshua Smith."
"Well Mr. Smith, I think it's time you can add another blanket."
Doctor Stuart set to work warming water, then dipping a strand of gauze in the water and carefully wrapping the injured toe. He used a smaller strand of dry gauze to separate the small toes from the adjacent toe.
By the time Dr. Stuart had finished, Kid had three blankets covering him, and was beginning to utter some guttural moans. Dr. Stuart again listened to Kid's heart and lungs with his stethoscope.
"His heart rate has returned to normal," he told Heyes.
Kid's moaning began to increase and he tried to move painful arms and hands.
"Hey..."
"Thaddeus?" Heyes quickly interrupted. "Can you hear me?"
"Ah, it burns," Kid panted. "And it stings...It hurts bad...What's happening?"
"Mr. Jones? I'm Dr. Stuart. I know you're feeling a lot of discomfort right now, but that actually is a very good sign. It means your circulation is returning."
"My what?" Kid panted.
"Your blood is beginning to flow the way it is supposed to," Dr. Stuart explained as he felt Kid's forehead, then checked his fingers and toes again and wrapped another layer of warm, damp gauze around the injured toe."
Kid's eyes began to flutter. When he finally opened them, he was looking straight at his smiling partner.
"Welcome back," Heyes told him.
"It burns," Kid repeated as he withdrew his right arm from beneath the blankets and raised his arm to eye level to examine it. "Why does it burn?"
"Doc says burning is a good sign. It'll pass," Heyes reassured him.
"You came looking for me?"
Heyes smiled. "That was the agreement. I always keep my word, you know that."
Kid lowered his arm to rest on top of the blankets and turned his head to look at Heyes. "Thanks."
"I want you to stay here for the night," Dr. Stuart told Kid. "If all continues to go well, you can move to the hotel tomorrow. I'll check on that toe again the day after and if it looks good, you can be on your way."
"What's wrong with my toe?"
"It got the worst of the frostbite, but so far, Doc thinks it will be fine," Heyes told him.
Heyes then turned to the doctor. "If you'll let me stay with him I'll keep a good eye on him and you can get some sleep. I'll wake you if he needs you."
"Joshua, my clothes?"
Heyes looked at the doctor questioningly.
"He can get dressed, but no damp clothing, and he'll need that toe dressing changed at least twice during the night." Dr. Stuart told them.
"I'll see to it," Heyes assured the doctor.
0-0-0-0-0
Both Kid and Heyes slept comfortably through the night, though Heyes did awaken to change the gauze dressing twice. The burning and tingling sensations had dissipated not long after Kid's body temperature had returned to normal, and the toe was causing him no discomfort. It was Dr. Stuart coming into the exam room to check on Kid that woke them both the next morning.
"I think the two of you can move over to the hotel today. The warm wraps can be stopped, but I'd suggest you soak the foot in warm water, not hot, at least a couple of times today.
"I'll see that he does that," Heyes replied.
"And a couple of layers of socks just to protect that toe a bit."
"So are we free to leave now?" Kid asked.
Dr. Stuart smiled. "You're free to leave this office. I recommend you stay in town one more night and let me take a final look at that toe tomorrow morning. If everything still looks good, I see no reason for you to have to stay here any longer."
Kid looked at his partner. "You ready?"
Heyes smiled. "There's just no holding you down, is there?"
"You gotta remember, I haven't eaten in a couple of days. I'm more than hungry."
They headed first to the cafe where Kid ate the equivalent of two breakfasts, a feat that convinced Heyes that Kid was feeling quite well. Next they got a room at the hotel where Kid slept most of the afternoon. By evening, both were ready for a beer and a little poker at a nearby saloon. But by midnight, both were sound asleep in their beds.
0-0-0-0-0
"So what now?" Heyes asked the following morning after Dr. Stuart examined Kid's toe, gave him care instructions, and returned to his office.
Kid began rummaging through his saddle bags for his gun oil and a cleaning cloth. When he had the items in his hand he stood looking at them, but it was obvious his thoughts were elsewhere. He sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of his bed. "I just want to go home, Heyes."
Heyes started to smile, then saw the wistful look on Kid's face.. "Where do you consider home?"
Kid slowly shook his head. "That's just it," he replied. "I want a place with roots. I don't even have to be there much...just want to know it's there... A place to call home that ain't surrounded by steel bars."
"When we get the amnesty..."
Kid raised sad and weary eyes to his partner. "Almost four years, Heyes."
Heyes realized that this last ordeal, this last chase had taken a toll on Kid's spirit. "Do you have a place in mind?" he asked in a soft tone reserved solely for his partner.
A sad smile began to form as Kid's gaze moved to a vacant spot on the wall. "I don't know where it is, but I can picture it. I first saw it in my head that night I spent curled up inside that bear. It's a quiet place. Nobody else around, except you."
"No posses or lawmen," Heyes added.
"This road to amnesty is just so long, Heyes. So many ruts, and forks, and dead ends..."
Heyes understood Kid's disillusionment. He'd experience it himself many times. It always eventually passed, but he wondered himself if one day it would take root, and they'd find themselves at the wrong end of the road to amnesty.
"There's a train station in Missoula, Kid. We'll take the toboggan back and then why don't we take a train to Porterville, talk to Lom, maybe even the governor, and decide what comes next for us."
"You mean flip a coin?" Kid asked with the hint of an amused smile.
"No. I mean a hard, honest, decisive decision."
"I think we ought to be able to do that without consulting Lom or the governor. Stringing us along for four years tells us exactly what the governor's intention is. He's never going to grant that amnesty. He has as much as put us in a prison without the territory having to pay for our keep. But we ain't free to come and go as we please, and if the governor has his way, we never will be. I want to be able to come and go."
Heyes nodded. "Alright, we'll head back to Missoula with the toboggan in the morning. Then we'll sit down and make some serious decisions."
0-0-0-0-0
They woke early the next morning and stopped for breakfast before buying a horse for Kid and hitching up the toboggan to Heyes' sorrel. It had not snowed at all during the time they had spent in Butte and much of the road leading to Missoula was marked by wagon wheels and hoof prints. When they reached the point where Heyes had joined the road a few days earlier dragging the toboggan with his partner inside, they paused.
"You want to go back and see what's left of that bear?" Heyes asked.
Kid shook his head. "But it is going to be getting dark soon and we want enough daylight to gather enough wood for a strong fire, so we'd better be looking for a good place to make camp."
They didn't have to travel far before spying a small cave in the nearby mountains. Away from any potential wind, the fire warmed the cave well and Kid took off his boots and sat with his feet close enough to the fire to dry his socks and warm his feet.
"You still wanting to forget the amnesty, Kid?" Heyes asked as they began to settle in for the night.
"Heyes, a week ago we had three different posses chasing us, my horse got mauled by a bear, and I had to spend a frigid night nakked in the gutted belly of a bear. So yeah, I'm still thinking of walking away from the amnesty... I don't know, it might be different if we had a safe place to go. When we was outlawing we had Devil's Hole. Now we got no place safe."
Heyes found he couldn't argue Kid's points as each one was more than valid. "Will you keep an open mind till we get to Missoula?"
"I will, but what's so special about Missoula?"
"I don't know. I just got a feeling."
"Well you ponder your feeling all you want, Heyes. I'm going to sleep."
The next morning they ate a breakfast of beans and lard biscuits, then packed up their things, saddled their horses and hitched the toboggan to Heyes' horse before starting out once again, expecting to reach Missoula in the late afternoon hours.
The road improved as they neared the large town of Missoula and they made better time than they had expected. After returning the toboggan, they headed to the hotel, got a couple of hours of sleep, then ate a hearty supper in the cafe.
"How's your foot feeling?" Heyes asked.
"Fine. All that redness is gone. I can wiggle the toes. Don't think it needs no special treatment no more."
So, you're up to an evening of beer and poker?" Heyes asked.
Kid smiled. "Might even be up to a little more than that," Kid replied.
0-0-0-0-0-0
Deputy Hobart Wilson had just gotten off duty for the night and visited the saloon for a beer before going home and to bed. He walked up to the bar, ordered his beer, then turned to see if anyone he knew was playing poker. As luck would have it, one of he men playing at table was pushing his chair back and leaving the game. Wilson picked up his beer and ambled over to the table.
"I see you fellas have an empty chair to fill," he said, addressing the men at the table.
Most of the men at the table knew Wilson, but Kid and Heyes bristled slightly at the sight of the tin badge on Wilson's vest.
Wilson sat down and looked at Heyes and Kid. "I'm Hobart Wilson. Most folks just call me Wilson," he told them.
"Joshua Smith."
"Thaddeus Jones."
"Where's Sheriff Daily been all week? I haven't seen him around town," Joe Billings asked.
"Been down in Butte meeting with the governor. It seems Montana is considering starting an amnesty program for criminals and outlaws here in Montana."
"Amnesty? You mean just up and letting them outlaws go free?" Joe asked.
"Somebody gonna deal this hand?" Frank Sutter asked, interrupting the conversation.
"That would be me, Joe replied and shuffled and dealt the cards.
"The amnesty program don't just up and let em walk away scot free. First they gotta prove they deserve it"
"How?" Joe asked.
By staying outta trouble for a period of time. It's all based on some sort of tier system, a certain length of time based on the crimes committed," Wilson explained.
"Don't see why an outlaw should be getting off so easy," Joe replied.
"Well, while they're on this amnesty probation, they're still wanted and if they're caught, they get tried and go to jail. Wyoming's been doing an amnesty program for six or seven years now. Our governor wants to set up a similar program."
"How does it work?" Frank asked. "I'm in," he added as he tossed his ante money into the pot.
"It depends on what you done. Petty crimes get amnestied after mending their ways for about six months. The more serious the crime, the longer the probation period. Sheriff says the Wyoming governor don't like to let that information out. He likes to keep the criminals guessing. The longest time is reserved for things like bank and train robbers, but if any crime includes a killing, the amnesty program don't apply. If you kill somebody, you go to jail."
Heyes and Kid exchanged wary glances. Heyes tossed his ante into the pot. "I'm in," he said. "So, how long does this amnesty take for say bank and train robbers?"
"That one is about the longest cause they're likely to have stolen the most money. I think the sheriff said that takes around five years."
"Five years? You hear that, Thaddeus?"
Kid tossed his money into the pot. "I'm in, and yeah, I heard."
"Well, that is an interesting project," Heyes replied. "I'll take three cards...
0-0-0-0-0-0
Walking into their hotel room, Heyes broke into a hearty laugh.
"What's so funny?" Kid asked.
"Sometimes I just can't get over how lucky we are."
"Lucky?" Kid asked as he removed his gun belt and hung it on the bedpost. "How do you figure?"
"Well, for starters, we just spent the last three hours playing poker with that deputy and he didn't recognize us."
"Only cause we ain't spent much of our time in Montana."
"Uh-uh. And I'll come back to that point later," Heyes replied.
"So what's your next point?" Kid asked.
"Well, what were the odds of us running into that deputy who just happened to know all that information about the Wyoming amnesty program?"
"Pretty high I guess," Kid replied as he removed his outer clothing and slipped into his bed.
Heyes undressed down to his long johns and Henley, then slipped into his own bed and doused the lamp.
"Being as that program is based on Wyoming's amnesty program, we now know that five years is about the average for outlaws like us, and we're already into year four, Kid."
"Which leaves almost two years to still be dodging posses and bounty hunters, Heyes."
Heyes smiled in the darkened room. "Which brings us back to the first point, Kid."
"About not spending much time in Montana?" Kid asked.
"Yep. Nobody knows us this far north. So maybe, just maybe, this would be a good place to sprout them roots you want."
"You mean make Montana our home?"
"Well, home base, anyway. A place to come back to."
This time Kid began to smile. He raised his arms and clasped his hands beneath his head. "Keep talking."
"If we made Butte our home base, maybe rent a place outside of town, we wouldn't have to stay there, but anytime we felt like it, anytime one of us got the urge to 'go home,' we'd head there. Butte is near enough to Wyoming that we could slip into Cody or Sheridan and send a telegram to Lom now and again. That way he'd think we was in Wyoming."
"Heyes, that silver tongue is beginning to work on me. I do like that idea."
"Then you'd be willing to keep working for that amnesty?"
Kid thought about the idea for a minute. "Yeah, I suppose I would, provided we get ourselves a home base."
"It's a deal, Kid. So, do we head back to Butte tomorrow?"
"I suppose, but why don't we take the train this time. It's a hell of a lot warmer than the back side of a horse."
Heyes smiled. "That's a deal too," he replied.
0-0-0-0-0-0
Two months later Kid Curry sat on the porch of a small little cabin tucked deep in the Boulder Mountains north of Butte. The cabin was built against a rocky ridge, the wall of which climbed two thousand feet above the cabin. But from the porch they had a good, long view of the valley road, a full two miles below them. A single, narrow path led from the road to the cabin, and they had a clear view of the entire path as well.
"How did you ever find this place, Kid?" Heyes asked, walking out of the cabin with two shots of whiskey, one of which he handed to his partner.
Kid took the shot glass in his hand and reached into his shirt pocket and produced two cigars. He handed one to Heyes, then bit the tip off his own and spit it into the yard before lighting the cigar.
"That night when the bear attacked, I managed to get done what needed to get done, but once I settled in for the night... I don't know, my thinking was kind of...clouded, I guess. I kept seeing a cabin with all the visual advantages you could think of. I could actually feel the warmth from the fireplace. I can't explain it any better than that. But when I saw this place, I knew it was the place I had seen that night."
"Well it is the safe-haven you've been wanting. Nothing could reach us from above, and we'd see anybody coming from the valley long before they'd ever see us."
"Uh-uh, and that path I cut to the south stops a half a mile from the valley floor, so nobody's gonna know it's there except you and me."
"Just like the path behind Devil's Hole."
Kid nodded, then look a long draw of his cigar.
"So what do you think, Kid? Have we been here long enough to have put down some roots?"
Kid took a drink of his whiskey and smiled. "You getting itchy to be moving around a bit now?" he asked.
"I wouldn't mind. I like your idea of having a safe-haven, but I like to think of this as a place to come back to, rather than a place to wait out our amnesty."
Kid nodded. "Me too. It's still a long road to that amnesty and staying in one place, well I wouldn't want us to grow complacent."
"How about instead of Cody, we head to Buffalo and send Lom a telegram to see what all the 'mutual friends' are thinking?"
Kid downed the last of his whiskey, then nodded, though he didn't expect much in the way of news...
Well, that's the story in it's entirety. Like I said before, every once in a while, one or the other of us loses sight of that golden ring called amnesty. This time it was Kid. Maybe next time it will be me. I have to admit that Kid is right about four or more years being a long time to be worrying about outrunning posses and bounty hunters, and even some woman in a buckboard who might have been on some train we robbed and happens to recognize us. And God help us that neither one of us ever has to spend the night in the belly of a bear again...
But one thing is for certain. It may take us some time, but Kid and me will always find or create a road to amnesty.