King of Devil's Canyon

By Ken Bumpus

This is the fourth published work by KEN BUMPUS PHCM, USN (Ret.)
His first two were fact/fiction novels depicting the adventures and light-hearted antics of a group of Navy Combat Photographer/Journalists in Vietnam. The third is the authors autobiography describing his youth in the Black Hills of South Dakota where he grew up absorbing the legends of Wild Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane, Gen. George Custer, etc. At 17 he enlisted in the Navy and subsequently spent 25 years service in WW II, Korea and Vietnam. In 1963 he was picked as one of the Navys top documentary photographers to participate in a Navy sponsored course in photojournalism at Syracuse University.
He served as a Navy Combat Photojounalist in Korea during the Inchon Invasion, the evacuations of Hungnam and Iwon (North Korea), as well as the UN troops final withdrawal from Inchon.
This was followed by three tours in Vietnam. His photos and stories of the Navy and Marine actions received world-wide distribution and earned him the Navy Combat Action Ribbon, the Navy Achievement Medal, the Navy Unit Commendation Medal and the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry, among numerous other campaign service medals. His final three years of Navy service were as Staff Photojournalist for the United States Naval Academy, where he retired as a Master Chief Photographer/Photojournalist in 1973.
He now resides in Longwood, Florida spending his retirement writing and photographing for pleasure.

He can presently be contacted at:
>[e-mail]<

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Sep 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490747330

Ken Bumpus

After serving twenty-six years in the US Navy, Ken Bumpus, master chief photojournalist, retired and turned to writing six books: —Two fact/fiction novels of navy combat photographers in Vietnam —His autobiography —A fictional, post–civil war horse wrangler story —A fiction novel about a private investigator —And this sixth book, which is a sequel to the above PI story His work as a navy combat photojournalist documenting action of the Navy, Marines, SEALs and SeaBees has been published worldwide, for which he received the Navy Combat Action Ribbon, the Navy Achievement Medal, the Navy Unit Commendation Medal, the Vietnam Cross of Gallantry, and numerous other campaign ribbons.

Book preview

Copyright 2014 Ken Bumpus.

Cover Composite Designed by KEN BUMPUS

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

This novel is all fiction. Many real people, events, and geographic locations, from history, are referred to only to add authenticity. The characters in this narrative are the creations of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

ISBN: 978-1-4907-4734-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4907-4733-0 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Trafford rev. 09/24/2014

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Contents

Introduction

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Other books by Ken Bumpus:

Those Crazy Camera Guys

(A fact/fiction novel of the adventures of a Navy

Combat Camera Group in Vietnam)

Navy Photographers in Vietnam

( Sequel to above listed book following a new team)

American Made

(An autobiography)

Published By

Trafford Publishing

>www.Trafford.com<

888-232-4444

Available on line at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and

also at your favorite book store (on order)

Dedi

cation

This tale is dedicated to the many western movie stars particularly John Wayne, Gary Cooper, James Garner (‘Maverick’), Wm. Boyd (‘Hopalong Cassidy’), Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, and book authors Louis L‘Amour, Zane Grey and Will Henry., et al.

May this story of days in the old west provide the reader with the same pleasure that those westerns brought into my life,

K.

Quotation: The only life worth living is the adventurous life. The herd may graze where it pleases or stampede when it pleases, but he who lives the adventurous life will remain unafraid … . . .

Raymond B. Fosdick

INTRODUCTION

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FOLLOWING THE END of the Civil War, Captain Sheldon Martin takes his discharge and heads west to seek his fortune, rounding up and saddle-breaking wild mustangs. He discovers an abundance of fine wild mustangs, led by a jet-black stallion, in a hidden canyon in mid-western Kansas and begins his career, training and delivering them to the western Army Outposts.

K.

ONE

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HE WALKED OUT the door of the Cincinnati Federal Building, a FREE man. For him the War between the States was over. His only wish for the future, was to erase, completely from his memory, the last three years of that bloody, civil conflict. A piece of paper in his canvas duffle-bag, across his shoulder, put the final period on that life:

It was an official document, dated March 15th 1866, discharging him from the Army of the Ohio, and signed by none other than Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War.

All of his worldly possessions were in that bag, except for the Army issue Colt SSA .44 (known as the Peacemaker) on his hip and the Army issued 7 shot Spencer Carbine in his hand. His attire consisted of remnants of his Army blue uniform, a sweat-stained hat, and a pair of almost-new cavalry boots.

People along the street took note of his passing because of his 6- foot-2- inch frame topped by a ruggedly handsome face with intense, sky-blue eyes. He strode along with a determined gate acquired during his Army service.

The train whistle prompted him to step up his pace. With no home or family to return to, former Captain Sheldon Martin was on his way to The Territories to start a new life

The cost of his ticket to the western end of the rail line, left Sheldon with just $73 and change from his mustering-out pay. He figured that should be enough to get him by until he could scrounge up some kind of work.

This small hurdle didn’t worry him as there wasn’t much he couldn’t do around, or on horses. He’d done some shoeing, a little bronc busting and Sheldon had heard there were herds of wild mustangs roaming the west, just waiting to be rounded up and delivered to the Army outposts.

"BOARD!" shouted the Conductor as Sheldon swung his duffle onto the platform between the two passenger cars, which, along with one stock car, a baggage/freight car, a caboose and the engine, made up Seldom’s transportation to his future.

With the squeal of the brakes being released, followed by the hiss of steam belching from the drive cylinders, the train lurched forward, slowly gathering speed.

Sheldon relaxed in his seat, and, for a while, watched with interest, the panorama of the passing countryside. He had been born and grew up on a farm in the Ohio Valley, but now the scenery was changing, with each mile unveiling new and different vistas around every bend in the tracks. Ahead lay his new life and, thinking on it, Seldom felt a chill of anticipation. In this mood he slowly drifted off to the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels.

Hi, there, Captain, Sheldon was greeted, as he was roused from his slumber.

The speaker was a well-dressed gentleman in the seat across the aisle. His weather-beaten, clean shaven face, belied his near—aristocratic dress and bearing.

"I sure admire your ability to sleep with all the rattling and swaying of these old cars. I’ve never been able to relax on a train. Only ridden one a few times, but I don’t think I’d ever get used to it, no matter how many times I ride one.

My name’s McElenny, George McElenny. Known to my friends as ‘Big Mac’.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. McElenny…

Like I said, that’s ‘Big Mac’, or just ‘Mac’. Since we’re gonna’ be riding a ways together, might as well drop the formalities, don’t ya think?

OK, Mac. I’m Sheldon Martin. I answer to ‘Shel’, or ‘Seldom‘, — a name tacked on me when I was about ten, by my three—year-old sister who couldn’t wrap her tongue around ‘Sheldon’. Since then, I’ve been stuck with it by family, and friends. You can call me ‘Shel, ‘Seldom’, or ‘Hey, You!’ what ever suits your fancy. I just got mustered out and I’m heading for ‘The Territories’.

Well, Seldom, I’m just returning from a trip back East where I was arranging beef contracts, and getting my son enrolled in one of those fancy eastern colleges. Now, I’m heading back to Kansas. I run some cattle on a ranch out there. Looks like we’ll be going all the way to St. Louis together. Which way you headin’ from St. Lu? If you don’t mind my askin’.

Ask away, Mac. I’m just amblin’ west. I lost my Ma, my Pa and Sister to Scarlet Fever while I was off fightin’ that war, so I aim to start a new life. out in the ‘Territories’, Seldom replied.

Just kinda’ scouting the lay of the land before settlin’ down on a spread of my own where I can raise some good horse flesh. Word back in Cincinnati is, the Army posts out there are always needing good mounts to buy. I know horses and, I figure, that’s a hell of a lot more fun than hard-rock gold mining, and the pay’s a lot more steady, too.

"I’m sorry about your loss but you got the right idea, son. Leave the unpleasant past behind and move on.

"I see one or two mustangs southwest of my spread, every once in a while. I’m a cattleman, though, so I don’t bother with them. But where there’s a couple there must be more. You just have to follow their sign.

If you’d like to trail along with me to my ranch, Seldom, I could use a good wrangler to help out. With my son back east in school now, I’m short a hand. It’d be temporary, of course. just until you get your own brand a’ runnin’. You can maybe throw a loop on a few of those mustangs, in your spare time, and pick up a stake, to help you get your start.

Mac, you just got yourself a new hand, and I’m much obliged for the offer!

Don’t thank me, Seldom. I’ll get a day’s work out of you for every day’s pay. The way I see it, we’ll be doing good for each other.

It was coming on dark, so the conversation drifted off. There’d be a couple more days before they reached St. Louis. Plenty of time for small-talk before then

Just after dawn, the train chugged to a stop at a water-tower, where the station-keeper set the passengers up with a breakfast of ‘hard-tack’, beans and a glob of fat ham. It wasn’t a banquet, but anything tasted tolerable after sixteen hours of getting bounced around on those wooden train seats!

A quick wash-up, wolfing down their grub, and Seldom and Mac climbed back aboard for another spell of butt- jarring travel just as the conductor let out his warning yell, "’BOARD!" and the engine began to lurch forward.

Seldom took advantage of the train’s movement to quiz Mac about the land that lay ahead of them out in the western ‘territories‘.

What are the people like, Mac? he started off asking. Is there much social life? How big are the towns ’round where you live?

Ha, Big Mac laughed, "My ranch is about 30 to 40 miles south of the nearest ‘town’, if it can be called that, one general store, a livery, two bars, one on each end of the dirt