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I rode out of Salt Lake from a side street and kept going cross country to the east. If that greedy clerk had tipped off any metal robbers, I wanted some open country to spot them in. True, the clerk could inform them of the location of my claim, but robbers tend to be a lazy sort, and I doubted they would follow me into the mountains and work a placer mine. It would not be the first time my instincts would prove to be wrong.
It was smooth sailing for right now, though. I watched my back trail carefully, but never a trace of dust did I see. By the morning of the second day the obvious truth hit me—why should they follow me? If tipped off by the
registrar, then they could travel at will directly to my claim. No need to have me as a guide.
I swept a little south of my natural line of travel to have a peek at the Book Cliffs. I had heard of the unusual formation from the rancher in Salt Lake, and I thought I might as well see as many sights as I could while I passed through here. Who could tell if my travels would ever pass this way again?
I found the cliffs to be just as described, looking from a distance just like shelves covered with like sized books. I was kind of like a library in the wild.
Since I had plenty of ammo for the Lightning, I used it quite a bit for small game and such. I was surprised how well it shot from a careful two hand hold. I used it one afternoon to shoot two cottontail rabbits out of four that I saw. The two I got sat tight, and the other two ran the odd run of the species. Every few jumps will feature one high leap into the air, and while they can be hit with a pistol, I would want a lot of bullets cast up before I went out for a day of such shooting. I think that the high jump is so that they can see over the tall grass and brush and check the progress of whatever is chasing them.
Roasted in a stick with just a little salt for seasoning, they were so good for my supper that I had to groan with pleasure. Eaten with pan fried bannock and some honey, the rabbits were the best meal I had eaten in some time. Whenever a bunch of hunters gather, the conversation always turns to what game is the best eating. Some of the older boys will say buffalo tongue, but most will argue between rabbit and squirrel. My money is on the rabbit. Not only the cottontails, but also their northern cousins, the snowshoe hares are delectable prepared in any manner. Even the western jackrabbits are good, but might need a slower preparation due to toughness.
All good things eventually wear off, and by the time I arrived in Vernal I was ready for a meal cooked by someone else. I hitched Big Horse in front of a small cafe, and when I turned I nearly collided with a red-haired girl coming out of the eatery. I did manage to knock a small package out of her hand, and in my embarrassed haste to pick it up I drove her back to the wall with my shoulder.
As you can imagine my discomfort was complete, and I could not even get out a word of apology. She looked at my with wide eyes and sweetly exclaimed, "Please, I give up. Is this the new game they call football?"
I had never heard of any game by that name, and if it involved pushing pretty young ladies around I wanted no part of it. "I'm sorry, ma'am," I finally stammered. "It was totally my fault. They shouldn't allow me to come into town."
"You might be right," was all she said as she walked away down the boardwalk. Memory of the warmth of her firm torso burned on my shoulder as I watched her walk away.
"I won't have to worry about seeing her again," I thought. There was the first woman I had ever really been taken with, making her escape before I could do her any more harm. Even after our collision, a trace of a smile had lurked at the edges of her lips, and the sound of her voice had been like a bell on a clear mountain morning. For such a fleeting encounter, my sense of loss was enormous, and I turned away from the cafe, no longer hungry.
I had even lost the urge to sleep in a bed, for why spend the money when I knew I wouldn't enjoy it? I pitched camp by a nearly dry streambed. Later that night I chewed on some cold bannock, the very last of my food. Thoughts of the redhead's pretty face kept running through my head, making sleep difficult to achieve.
In the morning I was really hungry, so I went into town to try it again, promising myself I would watch where I was going. The cafe featured steak and eggs with beans, and it was all you could eat. I did myself proud, for it had been a while since I had eaten a meal that really filled me up. After lingering over one last cup of coffee, I headed out to the street and nearly repeated last night's mistake.
Actually she was three feet away, but last night's memories make me back away, and my boot heel caught over the edge of the walk. In a split second I was lying on my back in the street. I was lucky that it had not been rainy, and even luckier that I didn't land on one of the many horse droppings that littered the street. As I got up and brushed myself off, the pretty redhead came closer, and I could see the laughter barely kept inside by her proper manners.
"You don't need to be afraid," she said, "I won't hurt you. I'm not even armed." Strictly speaking, this was not true, for she was armed her alluring good looks and as I was later to find out, a .41 derringer.
"Somebody is bound to get hurt if we go on meeting like this, so I'll tell you what. I'm the school teacher here, and it lets out at three. How about meeting me there and walking with me. That way we should both be safe."
"Yes, ma'am, I would be honored," I managed to blurt out.
"Never mind the ma'am, my name is Anne, Anne Doveling."
"Hi, I'm Jess, Jess Clay. I'm mining now, but I'm going to be a rancher." With a start I realized that I had just given voice to a hidden dream. Before I had met this girl I had just been day dreaming, but now it seemed like it was in the realm of possibility. Thoughts of future travels were dimming, as well.
This was foolish. I had just met the girl, and a whirlwind of plans were already swirling through my brain. We would probably have a cup of coffee together and that would be the end of it. Probably I would spill mine on her clothes.
"Face it," I thought, "This is hopeless." Even as that went through my mind, I knew I was going to give it my best shot to make this dream come true.
For a start, I had the shave and haircut that I had been yearning for. The barber even had a tub in back, so I took time for the luxury of the first hot bath I had enjoyed in a long, long time.
Next came some better clothes. I didn't bother with a suit, for who knew when I might use it again, but I did buy some of the best cowboy clothes. I looked kind of like a dude, but I figured that nobody would make the mistake of telling me that twice. I also replaced my boots, for the holes in the bottoms made it senseless to try to wear socks. Even my hat came under careful scrutiny, for my old one was grease soaked and out of shape. I finally decided to replace it but to save the old one for working, for with all the grease at least it repelled water. Taking a quick furtive look in the mirror, I decided that if not a dandy, at least I was clean and presentable.
At the appointed time I went to the end on the town's one street and waited at the gate. At the bell a score of various aged children came tumbling out. They were soon to pick up on my presence and started chanting things like, "Miss Doveling's got a beau."
Anne just smiled from the doorway and motioned me in. "Kids will be kids," she said. "I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. I'm flattered that they might think such a thing. I wish..." and I trailed off, realizing what I had almost said.
Anne acted like she hadn't noticed. "I should be flattered. You fancied yourself up just for me, didn't you?"
"No, I, er, "
"Yes..." she said with an inquisitive look.
"Yes, you're right." I said, and we both broke into an easy laughter. Somehow that moment broke the ice, and were completely at ease from then on. "I'd like to ask you to do something, but I don't know my way around here."
"What did you have in mind?" she asked with mock severity. "Actually there isn't anything going on around here. The only place to eat is the cafe, and that gets old quickly. How about getting a buggy, and I'll put up a picnic supper? We can find a nice spot on the Judith River."
Before I knew it, all was prepared, and we were on our way. Anne explained that Clark had named the river in 1805 when he passed through with Lewis. It is always easy to imagine that you are the first visitor to an area, but we forget how long our history actually is. Before Lewis and Clark were the long hunters, many of whom had seen the Pacific before the colonies were engaged in the Revolutionary War. And of course before them were the Indians, who took over when the old ones like the cliff dwellers and the Red Paint people died off or moved on.
Anne told me that she had dreamed of seeing the West from an early age, and upon graduation she had come out to teach. She had taught for a while in a small town in Kansas, but she had known she would not be staying there. It was a year and a half of work before the mayor's daughter graduated and took over the post. The people had liked her and given a good recommendation. When this job in Vernal was advertised, she won it hands down. At least that is what she thought at the time. It turned out she was the only applicant.
She had a way of telling these stories that was filled with humor, even at the most mundane things. She made me feel like a
confidante, rather than a new acquaintance.
When my time came to spill the goods, I told my story with complete honesty, for time always trips up a liar. I told her that I enjoyed mining, but it was filled with uncertainty. I told her that my original plan when I entered this area was to be a market hunter, for I loved the hunt. This was filled with even more uncertainty, for more and more of the West was being used to grow beef, and this satisfied the need for meat. The numbers of the wild animals were decreasing too, partly from over hunting and partly from the overgrazing of sheep. I even told her of my gunfight with Opie Heskins, and how I wouldn't be surprised if some of his kinfolk made a play for me.
"In fact, Anne, I hadn't thought about it, but I may be drawing you into danger. It might not be safe for you to be near me."
"Never mind that. If I want to see you nobody can stand in my way."
My heart soared at this statement, to be sure. "But Anne, I might have to kill another man. You wouldn't like that."
"Jess, you will just be defending yourself. You are not looking for trouble. There is a big difference. Whatever you do I'll stand by you, for I know you always try to do the right thing."
"Thanks, Anne, I hope I don't disappoint you."
I stayed in town for another week, and it seemed that we never ran out of things to talk about. She agreed that perhaps I could take out enough gold to buy some land and start a small spread. "Not only cattle, but maybe we could breed some really good horses for the Army and the rodeo shows." Somehow that "we" had crept in there without either of us noticing it.
On Saturday morning I made to leave and found that I had stayed just a little bit too long. I had eaten breakfast with Anne, and when I walked down the street to where Big Horse waited, a voice called out "Clay!"
I had heard that voice somewhere before, and when I looked around I recognized the partner of Opie Heskins, whom I had shot on the way in to Salt Lake. I looked around some more, for I didn't think a coward such as this man would work alone. I spotted his ally on the other side of the street, crosseyed, unwashed, a strainer for sure.
"You got a problem?" I shouted. I figured an audience might slow the boys down. I figured wrong.
"Yeah, the problem is you. You shot poor Opie in the back, and I aim to see justice done." For this guy to speak of justice was almost laughable.
"That is a flat out lie, and you know it. You were there and ran when Opie pulled leather. You didn't want to get hurt then, and you don't now. Ride on out of here while you've got the chance."
My eyes were on the man on the other side of the street, for he had to be the more dangerous of the two. Sure enough, in another second he drew and shot. He was fast, too fast for his ability to hit, and the bullet sailed back into a shed well. I drew my .45 and shot and hit him where he lived.
The other fellow was just getting a shot off from shaking hands, but they are just as dangerous as any other kind when holding a gun, and I shot him too. I was starting to relax when Anne's voice screamed, "Jess!"
Too late I twisted and saw the riflemen on the roof in back of me. His bullet burned my neck and my answering shot merely sliced the outside of his left shoulder. He took cover behind a false front, and I was wrong when I guessed which side of it he would appear at next. His bullet grazed my skull in back of the ear and spun me around. Just as my vision dimmed, and I started to fall, I saw him silhouetted against the sky and emptied my revolver into his torso.
I awoke in a few minutes to find myself being transported on a blanket with six men carrying it. Anne walked along beside, her cool hand on my brow. "It's okay, I can walk." I said. My voice sounded a bit feeble.
"Ignore him, he's delirious." Anne was in control and wasn't going to give up the reins. "Take him into my parlor."
"But Anne, people will talk."
"Good," she replied, "This town needs something to talk about."
"Don't worry," said an elderly man that I knew ran the post office, "We all know Anne and think the world of her, and we know she wouldn't do anything wrong. And it's a fine thing for her to take care of you now that you're hurt. We all wish we could have helped you out on the street, but it happened so sudden like that it was over by the time we got our guns."
"Yeah, now that you mention it, it was sudden, at that."
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