Author's Note: I am re-writing this story with the help of Sharks Potter because I think the original version was too corny and inaccurate to real-world history. Along with the fact that in one chapter, one of the characters acts way out of character. So, I hope you enjoy this new and improved version even more.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of The Lion King characters, as they are copyright of The Walt Disney Company. The only characters I do own are the humans, some various animals of the Pride Lands, and Kovu and Kiara's children. Enjoy!
Somewhere in Colorado. June 12th, 1878…
It was the dead of night out on the mountainous terrain of Colorado. Between those endless hills jutting out of the ground in every direction, patches of forest dotted the landscape - places where something is either the hunter or the hunted.
Despite the clop of the horses' hooves on the packed earth, there was no other sound. Just a dizzying silence. Exactly the way he liked it. He'd been at this for a day and a half. Not that he was complaining. When he did his job, he did it right. Subtle signs in the dust that wouldn't have been seen by the quick passerby were the clues he thrived off of. Speaking of which, he thought a grin tugging at his lips. He dismounted and the group halted.
"This is where we walk," he said, simply pulling the rifle from the saddle bag.
"What about the horses?" one of the hunters, probably a son or nephew on his first hunt said.
He glanced back at them and shrugged, "You could walk 'em or tie 'em up here."
The boy looked into the woods skeptically. His companion seemed to voice his concern when he asked, "You sure them pumas'll be in there?"
The man decided not to answer or ignored him. He stepped into the woods carefully. Before the three others could follow him, it seemed as if the trees had swallowed him.
The group kept close and the man gave a whispered warning, "Watch yourselves. They attack from high ground."
"From the trees?" the older hunter asked.
The grin returned for a split second, "Pumas are cats, and cats climb trees. Thought you would've known that." True to his word, they found themselves in a dried river bed sinking low into a canyon. "Light your lanterns, boys, pumas have good eyesight and like to attack in the dark."
The tracker flinched and clenched his jaw at the younger hunter as the boy clumsily fixed his lantern. They kept working their way through the river bed, occasionally stepping onto the bank. The ground to their right sloped downward easily and rolled back up a hill. Their lights cast shadows on the debris and more than once Joshua Cody heard the boy whimper at the monstrous shapes. This time, however, he didn't reprimand him. They were making themselves the perfect bait for the puma to be lured out.
Josh decided to add the finishing touches to ensure their success tonight. Drawing a pocket knife from his left coat pocket, he pricked his right thumb and let several drops of blood splatter onto the ground. With the bait in place, he slowed his pace and signaled for his companions to stop. It was time to fish or cut bait. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," he said to himself.
He tensed inside as the familiar feeling settled over him. Ever since he was a young boy he could sense when eyes were turned on his back. The feeling continued for several more seconds till it started.
"Are you sure it's a good idea trackin' down cougars in the dead of night like this?" asked the young hunter. "Why not durin' the day when the sun's out? Least then, we could see them comin' if they decided to attack."
"Gut up, son," said the older hunter, obviously his father, "Them pie-eyed bags of velvet are better spotted during their hunting hours."
"Your pa's right, boy," agreed Josh. "So just follow the rules out here and you'll be alright."
Suddenly, a rustling in the trees stopped the search party in their tracks. Josh knew they were being watched before either man did.
"Shh… Up there, first branch. Female, 'bout eight feet long, probably 'bout six to seven years old. She's watchin' us."
The pair whirled around, staring up at where Josh was pointing. There, perched on the first branch of a nearby tree, its gleaming yellow eyes staring down at them, was a large female puma, just as Josh said. Josh sat still and calm, showing the creature he meant it no harm; but his guests didn't. In an instant, the older hunter pulled out a rifle that was strapped to his back, and slowly aimed it right at the puma's head.
"Keep that lantern still, boy," said the older hunter, quietly. "I got her…right where I want her."
Suddenly, he heard a metallic click as he felt something cold pressed against the side of his head.
"And I have you right where I want ya."
Keeping his head still, fearing the worst, the older hunter shifted his eyes to see that it was Josh, holding a colt in his hand with the end of the barrel pressing right into his temple.
"Drop it."
"Say, what kind of joke is this?" demanded the hunter angrily, wondering if his guide was drunk or just plain insane, "Point that pea-shooter away from me!"
"I already cocked the hammer back, so don't make me pull the trigger. Believe me, we'll both regret it. Now drop it!" He looked at the younger hunter. "You too, boy."
Realizing this nutcase called Cody meant business, the older hunter dropped his rifle, the boy quickly following his father's lead.
"Was this your plan all along, to lead us out here, only to rob us blind and leave us for the pumas?!"
"Hmm, tempting," said Josh, smirking, "But I'm no robber. Instead, I'm sending you back to where you came from, with the sheer knowledge of what is in store for you if I ever catch you sport-killing on my turf again." The older hunter seemed to regain some of his bravado. He glared at Josh.
"Why the hell do you think we hired you in the first place, ya idiot?! You're a tracker, aren't you? So do your damn job and let us do ours!"
Josh grabbed the collar of the elder hunter, pulling him up so that they could see each other face to face. "I hunt only for food, not for sport!"
"What's the difference?" the lead hunter asked, trying not to laugh at the thought of a man following such a ridiculous code of honor, like some heathen. "You're getting paid, ain't ya?"
"Blood money's not worth gettin' paid. Besides, I was gonna give you your money back once I led ya to the pumas. Which reminds me…" Reaching into his left coat pocket, Josh pulled out a roll of a couple of fifty-dollar bills and stuffed it into the older hunter's mouth. "Here ya are, now go spend it on somethin' nice, like a gold watch." Josh then let go of the hunter's collar and shoved him away.
The man's portly face contorted with fury as he took the money out of his mouth. "Just you wait, ya bastard," he shouted, "I'll have the law on you for this!"
Josh smirked as he opened his coat, revealing a silver star badge clipped to the left breast side of his vest. "I am the law," Josh said. "Care to discuss your problem directly?"
The anger immediately left the hunter's face. He's sensed from the start that there was something off about this tracker, but a man of the law? "You-you're a lawman?" he asked, nervously.
Josh nodded, "That's right. Deputy Sheriff Josh Cody, of the town of Northbrok, at your service."
"Oh no, it's a setup!" cried the younger hunter. "We're goin' ta jail, Pa! We're goin' ta jail!"
"N-now wait a minute!" stammered the man, regaining some of his composure, "There ain't no law against killin' pumas! You got nothin' on us!"
"There are some things that the law doesn't have in the books," said Josh. "One of them bein' nasty little men like yourself allowed to do their dirty work. But, as I am the deputy sheriff of Northbrok, I could still arrest you if I wanted to for insulting a lawman. Calling the sheriff, or his men for that matter, an idiot to his face ain't real smart, you know. Also, the town judge is an old friend of mine. The both of you could spend a real long time in a nice small jail cell, doin' my laundry. Would that sit well with you?"
They both shook their heads vigorously. "We didn't mean to… What I …" The lead hunter finally stopped himself before he put his other foot in his proverbial mouth. "No, sir, Mr. Cody"
"Good. Now I suggest y'all take your guns, go back to your horses, and get the hell out of here! Otherwise, I'll string you up from the nearest cedar tree and leave you for the pumas to feast on your miserable carcasses!" Then a smirk slowly etched across his face. "And if not them, then perhaps I'll let the Comanches deal with ya instead."
"C-C-Comanches?" asked the hunters, visibly shaking.
"The United States Constitution may have no laws to punish trophy-hunters, but they do. It's called poaching on their land and the price to pay is your scalp, hat, and all, followed by a bath in a fire-ant-filled ditch. Last I remember, there's a tribe camped out not half a mile from here. All I'd have to do is fire one shot into the air and they'll probably send a posse to come investigate." That pretty much got the message across.
The pair scrambled to get their things and hurriedly picked their way back the way they had come. Josh snorted a deep breath out of his nose.
Suddenly, the feeling was back. He turned to look over his shoulder and caught the glowing eyes of the puma. They both held still, sizing each other up. He could see the creature was heavy with young, not long due by the looks of it. His mind momentarily turned to those two hunters he'd led out here. If he hadn't intervened when he did… If they ever showed their ugly faces here again, he'd scalp them himself, he swore. "Ma'am," he said, tipping his hat to the beast, before riding off into the night, making his way back to town.
Josh tried to simply ignore the light behind his eyelids but it couldn't be helped any longer. He opened his eyes wearily. Getting home last night in the dark was not something he'd like to do again. He swung his legs out from the blankets and sat up. For a while, he stared blankly at the wall. His cabin was small. A two-room place with one being his kitchen and sitting room, the other his bedroom.
He glanced up the wall and a grin crossed his face at the memento. On the wall was an ornate dream catcher. Feathers from several birds dangled on strips of deer hide tied to the hoop. On the crisscrossing of tightly pulling strings were many beads of varying colors. He had other such memories hanging on the wall or a single shelf, housing his scanty library - the only heirloom he had from his late father. He had very few worldly possessions, but he got by with what he had. A simple life was the perfect life for Joshua Cody.
Rising from the bed, he went into the kitchen and placed a kettle of coffee on the stove to boil. Lighting his pipe, he walked out onto the porch and sat down on a rocking chair to watch the sunrise.
Just then, Josh heard the faint sounds of a horse's hooves trampling the earth, along with the sounds of a rider whistling and yelling, "Hyah!" He turned his head to the left to see a man riding a horse, along with a heavy bag dangling off his right shoulder coming his way. Ollie Williams, the postman, an early riser like Josh, doing his rounds as usual. Suddenly, he remembered he was still in his nightgown. Hurrying inside, he changed. By the time he had finished and placed his hat on his head, the rider had dropped down from his horse.
"Telegram, Cody."
Josh nodded and took the envelope. The return address made him quirk an eyebrow. He'd gotten letters of thanks from British explorers he had helped to track and he assumed it was another. Thanking the rider, he went inside to open it. Going over the letter, he had to blink several times to see if he'd read the name right.
Charles Geoffrey Burton? He read, 'The' Charles Burton? Josh had heard many stories from the Brits he helped about the once respected General in the British Army and a veteran of the Crimean War of 1856. Now he was Chairman of the Royal Society of London, requesting Josh's appearance immediately. He read over the letter again and saw a date. He sighed. He was to catch the steamer in New York next week for Southampton. Enclosed with the letter was a first-class ticket. Josh put the letter down and rubbed his hand over his face. He'd been meaning to find some assistant deputies.