Last of a Breed

Part three - New Friends1

Blankets in his right and the saddle in his left hand JW flung one atop the other across the horses back. He threaded a narrow strap through the ring attached to a knitted wool cinch up and around the bottom side of the saddle ring. With a couple of twists and turns added for security, when he finished the thing it resembled a long leather necktie held, tightly, in place by a double Windsor knot. Dropping the stirrup he stroked the Gray and said, "well sport...you're shod and we're both fed...time to hit the trail doncha think."2

Returning his attention to Hondo, quietly standing behind him, JW smiled and stuck out his hand.3

"Amigo," he said. "In spite of the headache it's been great. If I'm ever back this way we'll do 'er up agin."4

Swinging into the saddle, he tipped his hat, saying goodbye one last time, and rode slowly south towards Mexico.5

Six miles out the Gray shook his head and whinnied. "I know," said JW. "I see 'im too."6

Lurking in the shadows, like a highwayman laying in wait. What appeared to be a large shaggy beast, not close enough to identify, crouched alongside a large prickly pear cactus. Its eyes focused on the horse and rider, watched in silence, as they picked their way thru the tumbleweeds and rocks. The Gray, almost prancing as he dodged and sidestepped the debris that littered the trail, whinnied once more. Leaving little to chance, JW leaned back in the saddle and rested his right hand on the thigh nearest his gun.7

Sometime later, with no further sightings of the animal, JW stopped and dismounted. Unhooking a canteen from the saddle horn he took a coupla good pulls and removed his hat. Filling the crown with water he let the big Gray drink 'til the Stetson ran dry. 8

Wiping the sweat from his brow JW recalled tales he'd heard from an old desert rat 'bout life along the border. The old man claimed, "it's sa hot down there, it's likely, hell's no more'n six feet underground." He went on to say, "onliest things ya find are snakes, sagebrush and sand. Even birds, flying south for the winter, don't stop.9

"Couldn't be righter," mumbled JW as he swung back in the saddle.10

When the air gets hot enough for the water in their canteens to taste like warm piss, seasoned travelers such as JW start lookin' for a shady spot to set up camp. However, in the vastness of the southern deserts, rarely does a body get his way.11

Though today it seems, lady luck had partnered up with JW.12

From the crest of a short rise he'd topped, JW caught sight of a small patch of green surrounded by a few scrub pines. As he came closer he could see a fair sized waterhole, shaded from the sun, by afternoon shadows. Hoping the water was sweet and clear rather than tainted by alkali dust he knelt beside the pool and tasted it. Smiling to himself he thought, "damn that's good." Filling his canteen JW had a few more swigs, while the horse, thirsty himself, stepped up and inhaled his fill.13

After unsaddling the Gray JW unwrapped his bedroll.14

As a protection from the sun he built a cowboys shelter using a canvas tarp, he carried in case of rain, and four pine boughs for support. Raising it high enough to crawl under, he fashioned a bed with his blankets and saddle, laid down and curled up for a nap.15

Be dusk he was scurrying about the campsite preparing to cook his evening meal. After gathering fuel he formed a circle using nearby rocks and placed the wood in its center. With, freshly whittled, shavings for tinder he struck a match. Instantly the flames leapt and danced, encircling the sun dried branches as they caught fire.16

He rummaged thru his gear and found a blackened iron skillet, filled it with water and nested it in the flames. Later he added two handfuls of beans and some chunks of salted beef, which he kept wrapped in oil cloth for safe keeping.17

In sixty minutes his belly would be full.18

After a refreshing cup of coffee and a smoke he stood and walked to the edge of camp. Taking a quick piss he checked on the Gray before retiring for the night.19

As he closed his eyes his last thoughts were morning comes early and drifted off.20

At first light the Gray, standing near his tent, whinnied softly as though warning JW of some impending danger. As his vision cleared he could see two old scruffy mutts, sitting on their haunches, at the foot of his bed.21

With their eyes transfixed on his, uncertain of their motives, he reached for his gun.22

The smaller pooch, his dirty white coat filled with cactus and mesquite thorns, rose to his feet wagging his tail in a sign of friendship. The larger dog, whose pedigree JW couldn't determine, followed suit.23

Welcome to my camp fellas, he said and extended his hand, palm side down, for them to sniff and lick. Something he'd learned, as a child, watching his father deal with strays.24

Clad in nothing but the bottom half of his long johns he rose to greet the day. Stretching and contorting his body he endeavored to ease the ache he felt, in his bones, after a night of sleeping on the rock hard ground. Kneeling, next to the fire, he stoked the coals and added a few sticks to bring the flames back to life. With a cupful of last nights brew saved for the morning meal he sat the pot, carefully, on the fire to heat.25

Walking into the desert, a ways from camp, he found a bush he could squat behind and relieve himself in private. Unlike some, an intimate and personal act he'd rather not share. 26

Undoing the flap, at the back of his drawers, he crouched low behind the bush and grunted a few times. The same sound an old hog makes while rooting around in the mud. When he finished, leaving traces of his passing in the sand, the dogs ambled over, lifting their legs, they pee'd in the same spot.27

With a breakfast of cold beans and warm coffee in his belly he dressed and saddled the Gray. Snaking out two apples from his tote sack he fed one to the Gray and ate the other, seeds, stem and all. Extinguishing the fire he surveyed the camp one last time, mounted up and coaxed the Gray to a trot.28

While the dogs trailed close behind he headed south again. Along with unknown perils, Mexico and the Gentry boys lay ahead.29