I'm a Man, Damn it!

By Mike Marshall

David is found on the trail by kindly ranch hands after a brutal attack by marauding Indians which left his father dead and him nearly so. Only sixteen years old, David proudly insists that he is a man, not realizing how much he had still to learn.

This is the tale of a small, mid-western town in the Old West, where people like David—orphaned as a child—and Spring—an Indian-American girl also orphaned—are adopted into a compassionate and caring community. The community stands by them when they are faced with strangers who are prejudiced, including one with a murderous desire to defend his poisonous views. David learns what it really means to be a man in the Old West.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Marshall
• Release date: Dec 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463362037

Mike Marshall

Now who is this Mike Marshall? A pirate, a pauper, never a king–although I did have a queen–a cowboy, a cop, a pilot, a race car driver, a calluses-on-my-shoulder-blades auto and aircraft mechanic, a down hill skier, a bicycle tourist, a blacksmith, a florist, and a retail store owner. My highest points were as a dad, a grandpa, and a great grandpa. My best gig was for 43 years staying married to my best friend and business partner, a fantastic-looking blonde honey, show-stopping ballroom dance partner and mother of my children. And now at 88, I'm an aspiring writer.

Book preview

I’m a Man, Damn It!

By

Mike Marshall

Copyright 2018 by Mike Marshall

Published by C. F. Calderone at Smashwords.com

Cover Image by Olivier Le Queinec/Shutterstock.com

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Also by Mike Marshall, and published at Smashwords:

North Star

A Horse Named Alice

(prequel to North Star)

I Win

Me ’n Norman

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

About Mike Marshall

Chapter 1

David Marks woke chilled to the bone. The hair over his eyes was caked with blood, and his head throbbed with pain. He tried his best to sit up, but he was nearly frozen from the cold wind that blew across the Kansas prairie. He pulled his knees up to his chest for a moment then flexed his arms and pushed himself up onto his knees. He knew instantly that the body that lay nearby was that of his father. His throat constricted, and his stomach wretched and emptied.

A few yards away were the smoldering remains of their wagon. After a few moments he found the strength to stand. He staggered a few steps to look down at his father then fell to his knees again. He had to turn his face away. He wanted to hold his father in his arms, but the back of his head had been smashed beyond recognition, and his shirt was caked in dried blood. The whole thing seemed dreamlike. This couldn’t be real. He cried out to the sky, What do I do now? What happens to me now?

He remembered his mother reading from her bible and telling him to keep the faith and the Lord would provide. First you let my ma die from the fever. And now my pa is killed. Is this supposed to be providing? Providing me for what? Providing a place for me to die, too?

He tried to walk toward the remains of the wagon, and after a few steps he sank to his knees and began to sob.

After a few moments he remembered what his father had told him when they broke camp the day before. David, you are only sixteen years old, but in this country you’re a man now. Those riders we met last night said that there was a cow camp up ahead a few miles. Maybe I can find work as a cowhand, and you are the size of some men twice your age, mayhaps they can put you to work, too.

The words, You’re a man now, echoed in his ears. He stood again, squared his shoulders, looked down at his blood-stained shirt, and then looked back at his pa. The tears had stopped, and even though he was feeling the warmth of the morning sun, all he could feel was a cold raging anger.

When he tried to stand again he became dizzy and fell to the ground. He lay there on the edge of consciousness, but after a few moments he could clearly remember how the Indians had come up out of a coulee and caught them out in the open. There had been no place for defense or protection. Their team of farm horses was no match for the Indian ponies, and soon they were surrounded. His dad called to him to get down, and then as he knelt in the foot-well ahead of the seat, he began shooting at the Indians on the right and then on the left.

David looked for something to use as a weapon. Next to the bedrolls was an ax. With the ax in his hands he turned to look for an Indian that was close enough for him to strike. But before one came near enough, he saw one of the Indians ride up behind his pa and smash him on the back of his head with a huge war club. It looked as if his father’s head had exploded. Then he felt himself being lifted out of the wagon bed and thrown to the ground. Before he could get to his feet he was struck on the back of his head, and blackness closed in. He remembered waking several times during the night and then falling into unconsciousness without being able to move.

The last time he opened his eyes the night was totally black. He thought, Am I dead? Is this what death is like?

When he awoke again and his head began to clear, he could see overhead there were three buzzards circling. He rummaged around in the wagon to salvage what he could. The Indians had taken almost everything: their supplies, and most of their clothing, even his father’s old shotgun, his pistol, and Spencer rifle.

He found a shovel and his coat and hat. He looked up and said aloud, I better get Daddy in the ground before those critters get any closer. It took all his emotional control to dig his father’s grave and then roll him into the shallow hole and fill it in.

It was nearly midday when he figured that he was ready to move on. There were no rocks to pile on the grave to keep the coyotes out, but he had buried his father under more than two, maybe three, feet of dirt and rocks.

Taking one last look at the wagon and the remnants of their outfit, he saw that the Indians had left very little. He sighed as he looked at the smashed water barrel. He hefted their canteen—it was nearly full—and he found some jerky bundled in his dad’s bedroll. He had his bedroll and he had found one of his shirts. In his dad’s coat pocket he found ten shells for the Spencer rifle that the Indians had taken. He looked down into his hand and wondered, What am I going to do with these with no gun to put them in? He shrugged and dumped them into his pocket. He looked off at the western horizon and began walking.

Chapter 2

The sun was nearing the western horizon and his belly was growling something awful. He slipped off his bedroll and sat on it. He took a small drink of water and then dug out a piece of jerky. It took several minutes and a little more water to soften up the jerky enough to make it chewable.

His hunger was a long way from satisfied but his stomach had ceased its grumbling. He then looked around for a sheltered place to spend the night. Seeing nothing, he pushed himself up and walked toward the crest of the next rise.

His heart jumped as he saw two riders crest the rise of the rolling prairie. He waved his arms and then dropped his bedroll in order to wave his coat. There was a sudden lump in his throat when they waved back at him. In only a few minutes the riders were pulling up their horses on each side of him. One of the men pulled off his hat and mopped his forehead, Good Lord, boy, what are you doing out here?

David wiped his eyes and swallowed, Me and my pa was caught out on the prairie by a bunch of Indians. We didn’t have a chance. Pa was killed in just a few minutes, and then I was hit on the head. That’s all I can remember until I woke up this morning. I buried my pa and then began walking and praying that I wouldn’t be caught by Indians again.

The other rider reined his horse around to look at the back of David’s head. Damn, boy, it looks like they near scalped you. He then stepped down from his saddle and closely inspected the wound and shook his head, We better get you cleaned up and back to camp. It looks like you’ve stopped bleeding. I got a clean kerchief in my saddlebag and some salve that we use on hurt calves. You ain’t no a calf, but I figure it won’t do you no harm.

The other rider swung down and extended his hand, My name is Vern West, and that guy trying to be a doctor is Frank Martin. What’s your name?

David winced as Frank used a wet corner of his kerchief to clean away some of the dried blood, I’m sorry—my name is David Marks.

Frank dabbed at the wound on the back of David’s head. It’s a good thing you have a hard head. This must have been a glancing blow. By the way, you didn’t mention your ma.

David stiffened as Frank continued cleaning the wound on his head, My ma died of the fever a few weeks back. But me ’n Pa kept coming west. There wasn’t anything to go back to.

Frank put a comforting hand on David’s back, Well, son, let’s get back to camp before it’s dark.

It was more than an hour before they caught sight of the cook fire. David’s body was stiff from tensing against each step of Frank’s horse. His head was throbbing. He had been ignoring all his sore muscles until now that he had been rescued. Soon he could hear voices calling out to Vern and Frank. The friendliness made him choke up.

He wanted his pa. He longed for the touch of his ma and to be held in her arms, but he knew in his heart that that would never again happen. He squared his shoulders and raised his chin in an effort not to cry.

When they came to a stop, Frank called out to the cook, Jimmy, help this boy down. He’s hurt pretty bad.

It was then that he heard his father’s admonition, You are a man now. Once on the ground he looked around. One man in particular looked like an authority figure, Are you the ram rod of this outfit?

The man stepped forward and put out his hand, That’s right, boy. I’m Amos Griswold, and this is the Bar25 outfit. Our home ranch is nearby, only a couple of day’s drive. Most everyone calls me Grizz. And he extended his hand.

David accepted the hand and shook it, My name is David Marks, and I ain’t no boy. I’m a man.

Grizz smiled and motioned him toward the fire, Be that as it may, let’s get some grub in your belly, then we can talk some more.

With a full belly he began to relate what had happened to him. No one asked questions; they all just nodded in sympathy. He went on with his story, My ma and pa and me had been with a wagon train going to Oregon when my ma came down with the fever. The folks on the train took a vote and decided to leave us behind. After Ma passed and we buried her, Pa thought he was taking a shortcut to catch up with the train, but we was plumb lost. We doubled back, and all in all, we were lost more than a week. We still had our supplies and some spare horses when those Indians caught us. I guess now you know all there is to know about me.

Finally Grizz put a hand on his shoulder, Well, young man, it’s about time to get some sleep. We start work at first light. After breakfast we can talk about what we can do with you.

David appreciated the Young man comment that came from Grizz. He looked around as the other men began to roll out their bedrolls and settle in for the night. He stood and looked to Grizz and asked, Where should I sleep?

Grizz rubbed the stubble on his chin and took a deep breath, I reckon you’d be best off under the chuck wagon. That way nobody is likely to stumble over you. Whyn’t you just sleep as long as you can in the morning.

Sleeping late was not to be the case because of the sounds of the men moving and eating around the fire. Grizz turned and smiled, Don’t try to get up too fast. That lump on the back of your head isn’t likely to be very forgiving.

He lay back and then cautiously touched the back of his head. His hair was matted with dried blood and very tender to his touch. He rolled on to his side and then to his hands and knees. Finally he crawled out from under the chuck wagon and took hold of the wheel and tried to stand. He forced a smile at Grizz, Everything seems to work okay except for my head. Jimmy stepped to his side and took his other hand and pulled him upright.

Jimmy was at his side with a bucket of water and a cloth and began to clean up the back of his head, Your wound don’t seem to be festering any. That salve I smeared on you seems to be dong it’s job. When Jimmy set the bucket down, David turned to smile at him, Funny thing, I didn’t expect you to be such a good doc, thank you.

Don’t give it a second thought. You’re just another calf that needed patching.

David accepted the cup of coffee that Jimmy offered him and then leaned back on the wheel of the chuck wagon, I guess that being so young y’all figure me to be a boy, but I’m a man. I reckon with no family to turn to I just gotta be my own man.

Grizz nodded toward the back of the chuck wagon, Old Jimmy got some eggs when we passed by a farm a day back. He bought all they’d sell us.

One of the hands sitting across the fire circle laughed, Tomorrow we get back to the real world—beef and beans.

Grizz threw out the last of the coffee in his cup and raised his chin, Today I want all of y’all to circle to the south and pick up any strays you find. One of you is to stay on high ground and watch for them Indians. We know they are out there looking for trouble. Probably a bunch of young bucks trying to make a reputation for themselves. He looked around at the circle of faces to be sure that everyone understood. Get back here well before sundown. All right now, get outta here.

As the men swung into their saddles and began to leave, Grizz turned to David, Well now, what am I going to do with you? You can ride, can’t you?

David pulled himself to his feet and watched the men disappearing to the south and then turned to Grizz, Well, I ain’t never had a saddle horse, but I’ve ridden some.

Grizz winced a little realizing that this youngster was greener than he had thought. He then walked toward the supply wagon that was parked next to the chuck wagon. He called over his shoulder, Come on, boy. Then he paused and turned back and smiled, Oh, I forgot—you’re a man now.

He unlaced the canvas on the back of the wagon, lowered the tailgate and climbed in and began to move things about. I guess the first thing is to find you a saddle. You ain’t no good to anyone out here if you can’t ride. After just a few moments he handed an old McClellan army saddle out to David then mumbled, You’ll need a saddle blanket and a bridle. And soon he handed both out to David.

Grizz jumped down from the wagon, secured the tailgate and then laced the canvas cover back in place. He took a deep breath and started to walk to the other side of the camp. Next thing we got to do is pick you out a horse.

The remuda were all tied to a high-line by a rope that would let them lower their heads to eat but not long enough to get their feet and legs tangled in the rope.

Grizz walked around the horses and then back and forth in front of them. Finally he stopped and patted one on its soft nose. I think this old girl will take good care of you. He then untied the horse and with the lead rope backed her out of the line and then motioned for David to come to him. With the flat of his hand he brushed the horses back and took the saddle blanket from David and positioned it. Then he set the saddle in place. At this point the horse turned her head and looked back at Grizz and snorted. Grizz pushed her head away and without looking up, spoke to the horse, Well, old girl, you’ve had it pretty easy this week, but now it’s time for you to earn your keep. Then he reached under her belly and pulled up the cinch.

Grizz turned to David, You can put on her bridle. You’ve been around horses enough to do that, ain’t you?

Sure. David stepped forward and began to put the bit in the horse’s mouth, but the horse had other ideas. She shook her head knocking the bridle out of David’s hands. Well, damn you, he muttered and picked up the bridle, brushed it off, and again, but with much less trepidation, put the bridle over the horse’s face and the bit between her teeth then forced it into her mouth. With the throat latch finally buckled in place, he turned toward Grizz and suddenly felt a searing pain in the small of his back. He whirled and he was sure that the horse was laughing at him.

Grizz laughed and shook his head; You never want to turn your back on a horse while you’re saddling up. If they don’t bite you, they’ll step on your foot.

David rubbed his back and fought the impulse to do something equally painful to the horse. After a moment he walked in a circle to shake off the pain. Tell me, does this man-eater have a name?

Grizz shook his head. I don’t reckon she has. The men just call her the sorrel mare because that’s what she is. We don’t usually keep a horse around for a long time unless it’s something special to one of the hands, like my horse. I call him Chase because that’s what he does best. He’ll chase down a cow or steer and let me cut it out of the herd, and he gets me close enough to rope. You got a name in mind for that old sorrel?

Not just yet, but if she bites me again I’ll think of something right quick. With a bite like that. she sure ain’t no mosquito.

With the sorrel all saddled and bridled, David led her away from the other horses. As he was about to put his foot in the stirrup, Grizz put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. Then he pulled up another foot of cinch strap. She don’t really want to go to work. So what do horses do? They take a big deep breath and swell up their belly so as soon as you are on her she can let it out, and the saddle will slip around and dump you into the dirt.

David smiled took the reins from Grizz, Anything else you want to tell me before I try this?

Oh no, she’ll probably behave. But if she puts her head down that usually means that she is about to buck. So if she does, pull her head back up. Whyn’t you just walk her around in a big circle, and I’ll saddle old Chase, and then we can go out onto the prairie and see if we can find us some cows.

In only a few minutes Grizz was riding at David’s side. He looked off to the east and then to the north before turning to David, We’re holding the cows that we have rounded up so far in a coulee. We built a brush fence to keep them in. There’s a spring at the back and a little green grass, so they seem content to stay there. We’ll spend another day or so and then move the herd to the home place. We’ll cut out the cows and calves that aren’t marked, and then we’ll brand ’em.

David frowned and wrinkled his forehead, You mean that all the cows you gather up might not belong to you?

That’s the way it’s done, son. When we get a branded cow we get her back to the proper owner during the fall round up or when we move the herd to the rail head for shipping. But as for the calves? Now that’s something else. There really ain’t no way to tell which calf belongs to which cow. I find some of theirs and they find some of mine, but if there ain’t no brand, I gather them up with my cows and then they’re mine. It works out pretty even.

By noon Grizz and David had found four more cows and two calves in the underbrush at the back of a coulee and started pushing them back toward camp. Less than a mile from camp they ran into another group of riders that hadn’t had as much luck as Grizz and David.

Grizz shook his head at the lack of cows the other hands had found, I think starting for the home ranch tomorrow is about right. Any cows and calves still out here aren’t worth the time it’ll take to gather ’em.

David squirmed around on his saddle a bit trying to take his weight of the tender spots on his inner thighs. After a few minutes he asked, Grizz, where’d these stray cows come from?

Grizz nodded and looked at the cattle ahead of them, Well, some were left behind by men that went off to the war. Others are strays from the big drives from Texas to the nearest rail head. And some are just strays from the herds out here.

I’m not sure I understand? Don’t the ranchers out here keep track of their stock?

Most do, but it’s hard to keep track out here. In the spring when there is some green grass, we just turn the herd out. We keep a crew out here most of the spring and summer. Mostly the herd will stay close together, but some of these critters will drift off for miles and miles.

David frowned, Then why don’t more ranchers do this?

Grizz smiled, They do. But most of us know where the other ranchers are grazing their stock and we respect each other. Everyone knows that they’ll get most of their strays back in the fall. Of course there will always be those that want what someone else has. That’s why we brand our stock, and Lord help the man found trying to sell cows with the wrong brand.

Is that when you call in the sheriff or marshal?

Grizz rode along in silence for another moment and then turned to David, Well now, that’d be the first choice, but more often than not, there is no lawman to turn to.

What happens then?

Grizz stood in his stirrups. He whistled and waved to one of the riders and pointed to a cow and calf that had slipped away from the small herd. He then frowned and looked straight ahead, Sometimes we have to do what we have to do.

You hang them?

That would depend on a lot of things. He looked off to his left and pointed to a cow straggling behind, Whyn’t you see if you can move that critter back up.

David swallowed hard realizing the depth of what Grizz had just said and then heeled his horse and started off to push the cow back into the little herd.

There was no conversation until they approached the camp. David slipped off his horse. This was the first step he had taken since he had climbed onto the horse’s back. The first step was more painful than he had expected. He felt as if his bottom was raw and the muscles of his inner thighs were stiff and sore. He looked over at Grizz half expecting some small amount of sympathy, but there was none.

Grizz swung down from his horse and shook his head. Well, boy, he said before tying his horse to the side of the chuck wagon. Then he turned back to David, I knew it wouldn’t have made much difference to tell you how to sit down in the saddle until you’d been riding for a few hours.

Sit down? What have I been doing all morning?

You have been sitting up there all tensed up. You have to relax. Let your body sit in the saddle and not try to hang on by clamping your legs around the horse. I’m sure your legs are telling you all these things.

Grizz took the reins of David’s horse, led her off to the string, and pulled off the saddle and bridle. Speaking over his shoulder he admonished, This is the last time I’ll take care of your horse. From now on, no matter how stiff and sore you are, you take care of your horse first. Then you can take care of your sore ass last.

Jimmy stepped toward David and chuckled, Now you know what tenderfoot means.

David turned and tried to force a smile, "I don’t know about tender foot, it should be tender ass."

Jimmy laughed aloud, "You sure got that right. You rest a bit now, and then when I need you to help me, I’ll let you know."

Chapter 3

The western horizon was beginning to turn orange as the sun neared the end of its day’s travel. Most of the hands had come in and taken care of their horses. Grizz talked with each group and tallied up the days work.

Jimmy banged on the bottom of a pot as he called the men in to eat. When everyone had finished his meal Grizz stood and spoke, We didn’t do any better today finding cows. I reckon we should start for home tomorrow. I figure it to be a two-day drive to the home place. That is if we don’t have to take time off to bury our new hand out along the trail. He did real good out there this morning and never complained one time, so I don’t want none of you men playing any tricks on him. Now, in the morning, pack anything you don’t want to carry on your horse and we can pack it into the supply wagon.

The night was still with them when Jimmy woke David, Time to get moving. First thing is a fire, then fill the big coffee pots.

David had a difficult time moving. Pulling on his pants was torture, and he could never remember it ever being so tough to pull on his boots. Finally dressed, he staggered to the pile of firewood. Bending over to pick up an armload was agony. Finally, with a fire stacked, he stirred the ashes and coals from the night before and soon there was flickering of flame. With the coffee pot full and hung over the fire, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Jimmy looked over at him and smiled, No matter how you feel right now, I promise you’re going to heal up and make it to the home ranch.

David smiled in return, I reckon so, but seems a far piece off.

Jimmy had put on a small pot as soon as the fire had begun and very soon he had a pot of coffee. Here, take this cup to Grizz. That’s the best way for him to start a day.

David wrapped a cloth around the cup and walked to Grizz. He had just pulled on his boots and stood. Without comment he took the cup and turned to look at the line of horses in the remuda, I figure you can drive a team?

Yes, sir. I can do that real good.

Good. Today should be a little rest for your bottom. I want you to drive the supply wagon. As soon as we have all eaten, me and the boys will start the cows. You and Jimmy can catch up after you break camp.

As Grizz walked toward the cook fire he walked with a rolling limp. Each of the men mumbled, Mornin’ boss.

Grizz walked on without speaking. By