Losing the Apache
I started this story for a Mayday challenge and finally finished it for the "This Just Doesn't Add Up" challenge. This is the cleaned-up version since the original post was written hastily.
In the overcast late afternoon of a blustery mid-March day two tired, disheveled, and cold ex-outlaws rode slowly down C Street in Virginia City, Nevada. Competing odors emanating from gray clouds of wood smoke, black coal smoke and smelting ore blowing down the narrow street contributed to the gloom. A brown hat swiveled left then right while blue eyes panned the surroundings as a lightly whiskered chin lifted clear of the buttoned-up sheepskin's warm collar.
"There's the Delta and Silver Queen on the right or the Union, the Red Dog, and Bucket of Blood on the left. Which one? Do you care?" Kid Curry reined up to let a group of work-worn miners cross the slushy and rutted mud street.
The black-hatted riding companion brought his hands up close to his face and blew on his freezing, grimy fingers, hoping to transfer some warmth through the thin, black leather riding gloves. The dangling reins whipped around in the stiff, damp, cold wind while Heyes did a slow pan of the street. "Not really, although last time we rode through these parts, we both did pretty well at the Delta. The weather was a lot warmer, too." Hannibal Heyes grinned at the memory of his triumph at the poker tables.
"You did better than pretty well. I'm not sure we'd be welcome back if they remember Joshua Smith." How about the Silver Queen? There's a proper hotel upstairs, not just the pay for a girl rooms the others have and it's closest to the livery."
"Fine by me, Kid. You can always go across the street to the Union for a while if you feel the need for female companionship later if you want. But quit worrying, we lost that posse. They rode towards Reno instead of continuing south. Our false trail worked. They thought we were headed towards the Mt. Rose or Donner passes. Most of the southern trails across the Sierra's aren't usually passable this time of year. We'll head down to Carson City and try the Spooner Summit or maybe sell the horses and take the Virginia-Truckee Railroad."
"If you say so, but I'm not so sure. They're awfully persistent to follow us all the way from Elko. Remember, we thought we lost them around Winnemucca." Curry remarked as he habitually scanned the faces of the many C street patrons.
Heyes glanced to his side, letting a grin show even though he knew it would annoy the Kid. "I like when you worry, you take better care of us then." There was an underlying note of seriousness in the teasing tone as Heyes stopped in front of the livery. His sharp gaze studied the bustling main thoroughfare before dismounting. He reassuredly patted his friend's knee, who was still mounted, signaling that he was satisfied they could rest up in the rugged mining town.
~~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later a clean, fully rested and fed blonde ex-outlaw was getting dressed while a well satisfied soiled dove lounged across a disheveled bed, appreciating the view. It wasn't often that she enjoyed her job, and she was savoring every last minute before returning to the harsh reality of her employment.
"Thanks Irene. It was real nice spendin' the afternoon with you." The Kid turned towards the bed smiling as he buttoned up his blue shirt and tucked it in.
"It was my pleasure…and I really mean that. I hope to see you again, Thaddeus." The chestnut-haired girl sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to barely cover her bare breasts. She looked up with a rare genuine shy smile.
"Well, if my partner and me are still here tomorrow, I'd like that. It looks like bad weather is blowing in so it's a real good possibility that you'll see me again."
Kid reached for his gunbelt then swung it around his hips when the swift pounding of numerous hoofbeats sounded though the closed window. The wanted man peered through the window as he tied the holster down to his right thigh but couldn't get a good view of the street. He pushed up the sash of the large window and cautiously stepped out onto the rooftop porch. In summer weather the girls would be sitting out there enticing potential customers. Curry stepped far enough across the roof to get a good look of the entire C Steet while still staying low and unseen. A quiet groan escaped from frowning lips. There were a group of familiar riders making their way to the other end of town. The end of town with the sheriff's office. His right hand dropped to the butt of his gun as he backed up to the open window and stepped backwards into the room. Turning around, he rapidly swiped his brown hat and sheepskin from the chair, slapped the hat on his head, and stuffed his arms into the jacket while making for the door.
"On second thought Irene, somethin' just came up and I have to leave sudden like. Here's a little somethin' extra, take a break for yourself tomorrow." The Kid fished into his vest pocket and retrieved a crumpled ten-dollar bill, tossed it on the dresser on his way out and flashed the girl a half smile.
Heyes was happily playing afternoon poker at the Silver Queen with a new group of men flush with the riches stemming from the Comstock Lode in the once booming but still prosperous mining town. The dark-haired, poker-playing ex-outlaw laid down his cards and with a satisfied air pulled another lucrative pot towards him. He leaned back and caught the eye of an attentive raven-haired waitress in a too-tight gaudy pink and black satin dress as she walked by the table.
"Another round for my friends here." He called to the girl with a dimpled grin and a wink. Turning back to the table, he anted up and waited for his cards. A firm hand landed on Heyes' left shoulder and gave a quick purposeful squeeze. The dark head quickly turned and only just missed knocking heads with his blond partner who was bending down close to Heyes' left ear.
"Time to go, Joshua."
Questioning brown eyes met blue one and quickly discerned the anxiousness and urgency hidden underneath the calm exterior.
"Aah, something came up. Keep the ante, fellas. Enjoyed the game." Heyes stood up and swiftly stuffed his winnings into his pockets before following his waiting friend towards the back of the building and out the rear door.
The two men made their way down the back alley, keeping in the afternoon's shadows. They quickly saddled and loaded their horses. Kid cautiously peered up C Street towards the center of town as he held the reins of both horses while his partner settled up with the livery man. Mounting the animals, the ex-outlaws, against their need to be gone, rode unhurriedly out of town to avoid undue attention.
The familiar whistle of a speeding 45 had both partners ducking close to their horse's necks as they spurred the animals from a canter into a gallop along the uneven mountain trail some miles out of town. Kid cursed as he drew his Colt, dropped back further behind Heyes and twisted in the saddle, trusting his by gelding to follow the chestnut. Heyes glanced back and his eyes widened in dismay and disbelief before turning his attention to finding the best route off the tail through the evergreens.
~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later found the partners watching the pale reds and corals of the dawn reflecting off the choppy waters of the southern end of Washoe Lake while their just barely rested horses drank their fill. Heyes finished drying his face with his shirt tail when still tired eyes looked up at his friend. "Think we lost them?"
"No."
"I don't either but I was hoping you did."
"Let's go, Heyes."
"South to Carson City, east or west?"
"I don't care. Anywhere but here."
"West it is. That's the way they'd least expect."
"West it is then."
~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~~
A day and a half later the early morning, gray and cold, even for this time of year found Heyes and Curry tacking up their horses at the edge of the much larger Lake Tahoe after a short rest for them and their mounts. Kid had his horse saddled and was giving the area a once over to check that there were no signs of their passing.
Heyes was hefting his saddle on his gelding when he paused in mid heft. Brown eyes sparked with an idea and the saddle came thudding down to the ground. "Kid, you know this just doesn't add up?"
"Huh?"
"It doesn't add up that this posse was able to follow us all the way from Elko. They must have an Apache or maybe two Apache with them."
"Apache aren't from Nevada. They're from Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and maybe Southern Colorado."
Heyes did a double take back at the Kid as he busied himself hiding his saddle and tack under a thick evergreen with very low hanging branches that were brushing the ground in the stiff wind blowing off the lake. He marked the site with artfully placed rocks.
Curry watched curiously, if impatiently. He absently added, "Nevada has the Washoe, Paiute, and Shoshone Indians. Come on, partner, the posse is close enough if the wood smoke I've been smellin' is any indication."
The older partner stood straight, his hands landed on his hips, and he gave Kid a sharp look. "I thought you didn't know much about Indians. How do you know that?"
"I can read just as good as you, Heyes. I just don't like to bury my nose in a book unless I need to. I made it my business to learn more about Indians after Apache Springs. That's how."
Heyes shook his head in amazement before turning serious. "The point is whoever they have tracking for them is better than darn good. They've managed to keep on our tail all though our best evasion techniques for weeks. It's time to do something totally unexpected." Brown eyes homed in on the lakeshore. The lakeshore where a weathered row boat with a frayed rope hanging from its bow was caught up on the rocky shore.
Kid eyed his partner suspiciously before following Heyes' line of sight. He backed up a step as his hand tightened unconsciously on the reins of his horse. "Heyes, what are you thinkin'?" Curry watched Heyes hurry to the grounded row boat and start to examine the alternate mode of transportation.
"They have us backed up against the lake so it's fifty-fifty which way we'll go. No one expects us to go across the lake. They can't track us over deep water, not even Apache." His eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction, "And there's only one boat."
"They don't have an Apache." Kid ignored Heyes' annoyed expression. He glanced up at the gray threatening sky before gazing out over the large lake. "You know how big this lake is don't you? It's huge. It will take forever to row across it, if that boat even has oars." The older man bent down and lifted an oar off the bottom of the boat to show his reluctant friend. Curry continued to voice his concerns. "Okay, it has oars but rowin' in the storm that's coming isn't gonna be easy. Look, there's a pretty good chop already from this wind and the water isn't its normal clear blue but an angry gray and turbid. We don't know if the boat leaks. And I don't need to remind you that taking things that aren't ours got us into this position in the first place."
"You got any better ideas, Kid, 'cause if you do let's hear them. Our horses are just about done it and I don't know how much longer we can keep riding without a proper rest. The boat looks as if it drifted here on its own. We're just borrowing it and when we get to the other side it can drift anywhere it wants."
"Nothin' restful about rowin'. And what are we gonna do when reach the other side without horses in the middle of nowhere. I only know of Tahoe City and Truckee on the other side this far north and Truckee isn't even on the lake. Who knows if we'll even be landin' anywhere near either one of them if we manage to land at all."
Heyes was half listening to the Kid while he was shuffling his belongings into the boat. He walked up to Curry and reached for the bay's cinch. "We're out of options and this is best one left."
"I can do it." Curry slapped Heyes' hand away and quickly and efficiently unsaddled his horse. He set about hiding the tack while Heyes moved the Kid's saddle bags, bedroll and rifle into the rickety row boat. They gave the horses a slap on the rump to send them away from the lake towards the south.
Both men watched their horses disappear. Heyes turned on his heel decisively and directed, "You get in and get ready to row. I'll push us out and navigate. Then we can switch when you get too tired to row."
"It figures, I get to row first." Curry mumbled as he gingerly stepped into the rowboat. He placed the weathered gray oars into the rusty oarlocks and got into position. He glanced back behind him in trepidation at the large expanse of water as the first raindrops fell from the leaden sky.
Heyes grunted as he pushed the boat off the rocks into deeper water and managed to jump in before it drifted out too far. Kid got the vessel turned around and the bow pointed across the lake to the shore that he couldn't see.
"It's pouring." The occasional rain drops turned into a steady downpour in the blink of an eye.
"Yep, it's raining. The rain will help hide our tracks."
"What tracks? We're in the lake."
"We're not in the lake, we are on the lake. And you know what tracks I meant. Stop being so negative. You'll see this is gonna work. We finally lost that Apache. Now get rowing."
"They don't have an Apache," Curry muttered under his breath as he rowed strenuously at a steady pace, having a hard time going in a straight line given the increasing wind whipping across Lake Tahoe, especially as he was trying to keep the bow pointed into the waves. Heyes had a difficult time seeing where they were going in the gloom of the driving rain, and he frequently gave instructions to correct their course. The distant shore could not be seen and they kept rowing in desperation. The wind picked up and the waves got larger and the lake choppier. Water started to splash into the boat over the forward gunwales.
"Heyes get out of the bow. You're making it too easy for the water to get in. Sit in the back or better yet sit here and row and I'll get into the back."
Heyes wiped the water out of his eyes and pushed his hair off his forehead. He grabbed hold of the wooden sides of the boat and carefully got into a crouch in the pitching vessel. He managed to turn himself around and just missed falling into the Kid's lap as a large wave rocked the boat hard. Kid tumbled backwards off the middle plank seat into the sloshing water at the bottom of the boat. He scooted backwards, swung his legs down and managed to heft himself up onto the stern plank seat. Both men were thoroughly drenched. Heyes took up the oars and rowed like his life depended upon it while Curry caught his breath.
"Let me know when you need a break, Heyes. It's tough rowing in this. My arms feel like limp wet noodles."
"Huh? Did you say something?" Heyes shouted over his tense shoulders. He was intent on rowing, with all his attention on the task at hand.
Kid leaned forward and placed a cold, trembling hand on his partner's shoulder. He yelled in the general direction of his partner's ear "Its hard rowing in this. Let me know when you need a break. We've got to keep going or we'll end up drowning in the middle of Lake Tahoe." He started bailing out the bottom of the boat, using his hat.
Heyes nodded, braced his legs against a rib along the bottom of the boat and put his back into the rowing motion. Waves started to come at the little rowboat from all directions.
~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~
The large posse stood huddled under a towering pine at the edge of Lake Tahoe. Nine men in western wear and one in Shoshone buckskins, all without slickers, were drenched to the bone and shivering. The marshal leading the posse took off his Stetson, shook off the collecting water and scratched his head in annoyed befuddlement.
"Men, it just doesn't add up. Their horse tracks led us south for a short ways but now they turn east. Our tracker here, who had done a damn good job, says the horses are lighter and are without gear and riders." The marshal turned towards the Shoshone, "my hat's off to you even finding those tracks in this weather. Heyes and Curry seemed to disappear into thin air. They must be on foot still heading south. It's the only way they could go. They certainly aren't swimming across Lake Tahoe. Those two are sly, they want us to think they're headed to Carson City. That's where any sane man would go. I say we head south since they couldn't have gone far on foot. If we find someplace to shelter on the way we will until the weather breaks."
The miserable men were only too happy to agree and gave scant glances across the water. In rapid time the lakefront was deserted.
~~~~~~~~~~ASJ~~~~~~~~~~
The open wooden boat was getting tossed around like a cork on the cresting lake waves. The men had switched positions when the older man's arms tired and his rowing become ineffectual. The blond had given up any pretense of trying to row in a given direction and concentrated on keeping the vessel afloat. Heyes only pried his freezing fingers from their fright-fueled grip on the gunwales to bail the bottom with Kid's hat when the water inside the boat reached the plank seat had the boat riding too low in the water.
A gust caused a large wave to catch the boat in a trough instead of on the upside of the crest. The white foaming water of the breaking wave hit the rowboat broadside and abruptly dumped a large quantity of water into the interior while tilting it precariously. The sudden movement unbalanced the men within. Heyes watched in fleeting horror as Kid was slammed sideways and tossed like a rag doll into the churning waters, the oars jerking up and out of the younger man's wet grip. He had only a moment to crouch further down and tighten his own grip on the gunwales in a fruitlessness effort to remain in the boat when he also tumbled into the gray waters of an angry Lake Tahoe.
Kid's blond head shot up from the churning water. He reached back and grabbed hold of his coat collar that was acting like a sea anchor strangling his neck and managed to unbutton it, wrestle his arms out of the sleeves, and drag the garment in front of him while desperately treading water. He pitched it into the still floating boat before another wave crashed over his head. Curry managed to spot the trailing rope when he fought his way to the surface. A grasping hand grabbed hold with all the strength he could muster and he pulled himself along until he got a grip on the gunwales of the boat. He frantically looked around for his missing partner. Panic filled eyes finally spotted the bobbing dark head and clutching hands on the other side of the boat.
"We're in the lake now." Curry sputtered out between coughs.
"Stop complaining and swim, Kid. Swim!" Heyes pointed over Curry's shoulder towards glimpsed land before working his way towards the bow.
Both men tread water holding onto the boat for a few minutes, coughing to clear their lungs of water and keeping their heads above the waves. Heyes took a deep breath, pushed off and started stroking for the shore. Kid took the time to tie the rope around his waist and towed the boat with their belongings luckily still floating within as he followed his partner a little more slowly.
Both men were strong swimmers but they were ladened down with clothes and cowboy boots. They only just managed to make the shore. They flopped down on solid land, retching lake water, chests heaving, shivering, and staring at a lightening sky. The torrential downpour as fast as it started was subsiding to a light drizzle The wind lessened in intensity as the storm passed. Sunlight broke through fluffy light gray clouds on the western horizon.
Curry shot up to a sitting position while his hand clutched at his right thigh. Upon feeling the familiar Colt still in the holster, he fell back down. A few moments later Kid rolled over and got to his hands and knees to crawl up the bank dragging the boat further out of the water. Water dripped from wet plastered curls. He raised his head.
"Heyes get up. Tell me those are our horses sheltering in the trees? We rowed in a circle," Curry cried out in mixed alarm and relief.
The two men slowly struggled to sit up. They each took their boots off and drained them of the collected water. Teeth chattering, they toiled to stuff their feet back into the wet leather. Heyes groaned as he mustered the energy to get to his feet. He stood still for a minute, savoring the feel of solid stationary ground. He cautiously approached the horses and reached out to rub the muzzle of the chestnut. "You miss me boy? Am I glad you returned to where you last saw us, whether you was looking for us or not."
"Look Kid." He pointed to the muddy trampled ground, with water puddling in caved in hoof and boot prints. The many horse prints, broken branches, and churned up ground clearly indicated a group of mounted riders entered the forest heading south. "The posse came and went. It doesn't matter if we rowed in circles. Athough, it was more likely the wind and current pushed us to the same spot like it did to the rowboat in the first place. In fact maybe that was a good thing since we now have our horses and gear back." He pointed to the boat. "Our stuff is completely, utterly soaking wet but it looks like it's all still there, even our hats and not at the bottom of the lake."
Both men stood grinning, despite their exhaustion from a near downing.
"Kid, we'll find someplace to shelter. We need to dry off some or hypothermia will finish what the posse and the lake couldn't. We're going to have to risk a fire no matter what. Then we'll double back to Virginia City and cross the Sierras north. I'm betting the posse will continue to head south if they haven't decided to go home. We'll go wide around Carson City just in case."
"Sounds like a plan."
"We finally outsmarted their Apache and lost him."
"They don't have an Apache, Heyes."
Notes:
M'aidez M'aidez (Help me, Help me)
A quick check of the OED shows the origin of this English word Mayday is French for "Help me!" The Oxford English Dictionary says it is a phonetic reproduction of the French that has become an international signal of distress. The International Radio Telegraph Convention of 1927 lists 51 Rules, and this is among them. The word "mayday" was officially born in 1927.
French speaking readers will point out, the French is wrong. "Help me!" in French would be "Aidez-moi!" (I'm glad my memory of my high school and college French wasn't wrong) But then, Marconi was Italian. And if it wasn't his fault, the International Radio Telegraph Convention was held in Washington, D.C., where French was not exactly a second language. So we'll overlook the grammar and spelling errors and take the phrase at face value.
V&T line
late 1871, a line extension to Reno was begun, to connect the V&T line with the Central Pacific Railroad. This would allow through train service between Virginia City and San Francisco. Construction began with track being installed starting at the Reno end of the line. The first train to run end-to-end from Virginia City to Reno took place on August 24, 1872, pulled appropriately by the road's newest locomotive at the time, No. 11, the Reno. This milestone marked the completion of the Virginia and Truckee Railroad.