McAlester: The Journey West

By Barth Parkes

About the Book
Pete "Mack" McAlester leaves his home in Virginia during the civil war and heads west to follow a childhood dream to travel the Oregon Trail where he encounters Indians, cutthroats, thieves, miscreants and renegades, and deals with everyday life and perils as he grows into a man. His desire to avenge his parent's death leads him on a path even he could not fathom as he travels through the Midwest. Along the way he meets the love of his life and together they survive overwhelming odds, betrayal, attacks not only from Indians but renegades as well. They would join a wagon train where they would build friendships with other travelers whom they would later partner with and build one of the largest ranches in all of Colorado Territory.
About the Author
With a love for reading, Barth Parkes grew up reading from such authors as Clive Cussler, John Sandford, Michael Connelly, and David Baldacci. Then a friend introduced him to westerns where he enjoyed such authors as William W. Johnstone, Ralph Compton and Ralph Cotton among others. An over-the-road truck driver for most of his life, he found time to write in his spare time. Leaving his birth state of Michigan for such places as Texas and Kentucky. He and his wife now live in central Iowa. In his spare time, Barth and his wife, Carmen, enjoy traveling throughout the US to see the US national parks and monuments.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Dec 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890279026

Book preview

Prologue

It was customary to spend the holidays at the mountain retreat with the family and this year was no exception. During this trip, young Archibald, or Archie to his family, had learned a little about his family history that he hadn’t known before; over the last century, a distant relative had traveled from Virginia, fought Indians, and built one of the largest ranches in Colorado.

A few days later, while returning home, Archie was riding alone in the car with Grandpa because everyone knew he would not be silent for the hour-long trip. He had lots of questions for Grandpa, but Grandpa had silenced him early on, telling him he would need to wait until they got home, and Archie reluctantly obeyed.

Now at the age of twelve, he was so interested in his history because some of his friends were related to someone famous, at least that’s what his friends told him. Shortly after they arrived home, Archie watched as his grandpa stopped briefly to straighten a picture hanging on the wall. But instead of straightening it, he took it down. The portrait was an eight by ten, black and white, set in an oval frame. He carried this to the sofa and sat next to his grandson and adjusted himself in the seat, holding the frame. Archie remembered seeing the picture before, but he’d never paid any attention to it.

This is the only photo I have of your great, great, great, great grandfather, said the old man.

That’s a lot of greats, Grandpa, said Archie Why so many?

Well son, I am your grandfather, and my father would be your great grandfather and his father would then be your great, great grandfather and so on, all the way back to the Civil War, said Grandpa, And so you would be the seventh generation of the family known as the McAlesters that moved to Colorado during the ‘War Between the States’.

The old man known as Jacob Winthrop McAlester held the framed picture in between himself and the boy and allowed the young man to view the image of the two people smiling back at them. The taller of the two was the man dressed in a leather vest wrapped around a plaid shirt with two distinct, unfastened, wooden buttons showing just above the leather that created an opening in his collar. He had a decorative bandana surrounding his neck that was tied off to one side. A leather strap could be seen around his neck which presumably was holding the hat that could be seen poking out from behind. The man had dark eyes slightly shaded from the lighting that gave him a mysterious look. The deep lines in his face enhanced his smile and made him look friendly. His hair was dark and wavy with bright streaks through it that were a reflection from the flash of the camera. You could tell he was tall. He had his left arm wrapped around a very beautiful woman.

Her hair as well as her complexion were also dark. She stood a couple of inches taller than his shoulders, and in the photo, she was looking up at him with large attentive eyes. Her dress was lighter than his outfit and was abundant with colors. Though the photo was black and white, there were many shades of gray. The dress was lacy with a high ruffled collar and buttons that went all the way down until they ran out of sight. She had on a necklace made of stones, which too, could have been of many colors and a hair piece holding back the edge of her long hair. Tied to the left side of her head and hanging down past the edge of the photo was a strange decoration with strings, thin leather fringes, beads, and bones and even a few feathers.

The boy took all this in as he studied the picture for a few moments.

She’s very pretty, he said.

Yes, she is. She would be your great, great, great, great grandmother.

Wow, he said, What’s that on her head?

I’m not sure. It was gifted to them by Indians, said Grandpa. Some of us in the past thought it was an offering to welcome them into the tribe.

You mean a real Indian tribe?

Yes, I do. But you have to remember, back then the Indians were at war with us also. And it took a very special person to be friends with them. You see, years before, the government had moved all the Indians from the east coast to various reservations in the west and in a sense, ruined their way of life and took their land in the name of progress.

Did my great, great, great, great grandfather fight the Indians?

Yes, he did, but there was more to it than just fighting. It was a time of survival and you had to do what it took to live, by whatever means necessary.

Just then, Grandma walked into the room and announced that lunch was ready so they would have to finish up after they ate.

But Grandma, we just got started.

No buts, she said. Besides, your grandfather is hungry, right?

She is correct. Let’s eat, son, and then I’ll tell you a story that will take you back in time, to a man who desired to leave the war, go on an adventure and live his life like no other.

Chapter 1

The men came in from the north, all bundled up to stay warm, rags wrapped around their ears and noses and covering as much of their faces as they could. Some of them had gloves, others used clothes wrapped around hands that were sore, dry and chaffed. They were not used to the bitter cold. They had been riding hard for a couple of days, traveling through wooded areas as much as they could and briefly, they would be in the open only to circumvent a thicket too dense for the horses and then hidden again by the trees when they could. They were wanted men, being pursued by their adversaries.

Their terror started in the north against those that were vulnerable and then progressed as they got braver; soon they were attacking army troops. In one such volley, they killed over a dozen unsuspecting soldiers as they were eating their evening meal at camp. Some of the soldiers were able to defend themselves and had turned the tables on their attackers. As bullets ripped the air around them and they put whips to the horses and disappeared into the night at full gallop, ducking and dodging trees and hoping upon hope they wouldn’t be hit, but, some of them had been wounded and killed.

The army mounted as soon as they were able and followed their tracks and fallen bodies and found them the next day huddled in a small clearing. They hadn’t run far enough; they were arrogant. They were a small group of about two dozen men and the soldiers were nearly a hundred. The soldiers moved with stealth as they attempted to surround the men, not seeing that one of them had wandered off to take a leak and had seen them approaching. He had rushed back to the group screaming and as the militia tried to mount their horses, they were cut down in a hail of bullets. A few, however, made it out of the woods with little or no wounds, but they had left all their belongings when they jumped on their horses and fled. Within a few hours they made it out of Pennsylvania and through Maryland and this time, they never slowed down.

They rode as fast as the horses would allow. They didn’t care if they were seen as they crossed fields, roads and waterways until they were far gone. Then the horses slowed because they couldn’t keep up. Their pace had dwindled and they were forced to slow down or they would all be walking. Now it was important to conceal their movements before news traveled enough that they could be caught. But they were now on southern turf; would the north continue their pursuit? They were unsure of what to do except to keep moving farther south. There were still several hundred miles separating them from home.

Of the seven remaining men, one had a bullet lodged in his thigh. It went in just above the knee and traveled along the bone and stopped somewhere near his groin. It no longer bled, but the pain was excruciating. He had to ride leaning to one side to take the pressure off his leg. Another rider was hit in his shoulder and the lead ball passed through, leaving his left arm with limited movement.

There would be times of brief sunlight as the clouds parted, then brief periods where the snow would stop for a couple of hours and then they would be back in it again; light, big, fluffy flakes. As the day progressed, it was starting to warm up and their tracks were more visible and the ground became softer, muddier as the snow started to melt.

The Union troops kept on pressing forward, but in an orderly manner. They stopped at night and surrounded their own camp for protection. Bright and early the next day they continued their pursuit. There were only a few of them, but they had momentum and decided that these militia men were number one priority; end the savagery at all cost.

As the seven militia men pushed on, their horses grew tired and they tripped and lost their balance a couple of times. They needed to rest. A couple that had faltered, they left them where they fell and doubled up, leaving them to die on their own, still wearing the saddles. A gunshot to ease their pain would surely have alerted someone of their whereabouts. The men stayed out of the main thoroughfares and stuck close to the tree line. They avoided everyone, the towns, the main thoroughfares and the troops. They rode hard. Their only focus was to head south, back home.

We got to get some new horses, said one of the men, We can’t keep going like this.

You’re right. We keep this up and we’re going to be walking soon.

There’s smoke over there, let’s check it out, one said while pointing to a small farm house through the trees.

We need supplies and we need to eat. I can’t keep going without food.

We’ll eat over there.

The house was white with solid white shutters. A two story raised a couple of feet off the ground and a set of stairs leading up to it. The whole yard was covered in a light snow, but there were tracks to and from the steps leading towards the barn and water trough. A tree stood between the barn and the house, it too was covered in a blanket of white and glinting in the sunlight. Along the edge of the property stood many other trees and a small field for a garden. The garden was evident with long rows of broken ground and a few stakes protruding through the snow with a few wire cages strewn about. The trees concealed their approach, muffling the sounds of the horses.

They could only see the back of the house from their angle because the big red barn stood in the way. It was new and freshly painted; dark red with a black roof. A pole hung out over the gabled end with a pulley to load hay into the loft and there was a door at the top large enough a horse could walk through it. The two large doors at either end could accommodate the wagons that could be seen inside. The pasture had a split-rail fence surrounding it and a water trough near the barn fed by a gutter that ran the length of the structure. The trough was nearly full but it wasn’t frozen. Two horses could be seen in the pasture, one eating from a fresh bale of hay and another by the trough.

One man raised his hands to get the others to stop. Everyone considered him their leader, but he stunk, was appalling, drank too much and was belligerent at times and they knew he would rather shoot them than to argue, so they went along. He had pulled out his pistol, checked his rounds and spun the chamber but he had difficulty doing this because his hands were numb. He’d lost his gloves earlier and had only his socks that he had taken off his feet to put on his hands to keep them warm. It didn’t work very well but it was better than nothing. Luckily, there was a hole to stick his finger through.

The men slowed their horses to a walk and approached the house using the barn as cover as they neared. Movement caught their eyes as a man rounded the barn and saw them. Surprise was no longer on their side so they began to gallop. The man then turned his back to the approaching men and resumed his chores. Then a shot rang out that got his attention and he turned back towards the men on horseback once again and saw two of the men raise their weapons and fire. The bullets missed him but he heard the impact as they passed over his head and hit the barn not far from where he was standing. The man dropped his pitchfork and ran.

The woman of the house heard the shots and went to look out the window and saw nothing. She checked the other side of the house, stared at the snow-covered tree for a moment and satisfied that nothing was close by, sat back down. It was a muted sound so it must have been some distance away.

The man, caught between deciding to either run back towards the barn door or scale the fence, lost precious time, and finally decided the fence was the better option. As he started to scramble over the fence, a bullet ripped into the post and he saw the splinters fly. Halfway over, another shot ran out and he was hit in the leg and somersaulted over the other side and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. The pain was unbearable but he did his best to get back up and made a sprint for the house. His tail bone was now hurting because he had landed wrong. Going back to the barn was out of the question as he now had only survival on his mind and that of his wife’s. His rifle was in the house hanging above the mantle, if he could just get there.

His wife heard the gunshot again and went back to the window and looked out as her husband was running across the yard. She could see he was struggling to run, and just as she started to run towards the door, her husband’s arms were thrown in the air and he disappeared from sight. A millisecond later, she heard another shot.

The man half dragged his leg the best he could as got up and struggled to run to the house. He stumbled and then gained his footing again. He could feel the blood pressure in his head, heard the thumping of his pulse, the lack of oxygen, his breathing becoming hard and raspy. He could hear the noise all around him; hoof beats, shouting and yelling. Then another shot rang out and he could hear a buzzing sound a millisecond before the bullet plunged into his shoulder. He kept his balance and kept running and jumped a small barrel that was in the yard. Then another shot followed immediately and he was hit while in the air and the force threw him forward. He covered nearly fifteen feet without his feet touching the ground and he landed hard on his torso with his arms and legs splayed out. He never felt the ground he landed on, he was dead. His last thought was of his wife, standing at the window watching him.

She saw him land as she screamed and ran for the door. Her mind didn’t even register going through the opening as she ran across the yard to her husband. Her dress snagged on the wooden railing and tore, but it didn’t slow her down. Where were the shots coming from, she wondered as she got nearer to her husband, and then she could see the blood. She dove to the ground and grabbed him up and cradled him in her arms and started to cry. His eyes were wide open with desperation yet she was frozen with fear. She raised her head and screamed as tears ran down her face. Then suddenly there was a great pain in the back of her head and everything went black.

The men carried her into the house and deposited her on the bed. As soon as she was laid out, one of them started to remove his buckle and instantly regretted it as a rifle was lodged in the back of his neck. The man named Jeremiah had had enough of the killings, the pilfering, the looting, and the disgusting acts the other men played upon the women and men and only wanted to get home safe.

If someone decides to attack this house and you have your pants down I will shoot you myself and leave you here to deal with the consequences. We’re here to eat and resupply and that’s it.

The big fat one came around the corner and said, He can do whatever he wants, we have time.

Jeremiah spun around so fast and stuck the barrel in his mouth and asked, Is that your final word on the subject? Because if it is, I’m leaving now, on my own and I’m leaving you here rotting on the floor. And to make his point more clearly, he pulled back on the hammer and let it click in place.

The fat man held up his arms and slowly backed away. Within the hour they were back outside, riding south.

I’ll kill you for that, said the fat man.

You’ll be long dead before I will, said Jeremiah.

It was the fall of the second year of the American Civil War. Pete and three of his friends were doing their best to avoid the confrontation. Pete was an only child as were his friends and they did the best they could to hide from everyone. There were times they would get together and hunt but far away from any troops, and when they did, they used bows and arrows and knives. They met while still young and had become great friends and did a lot together. They had the misfortune of running across troops, small patrols, and had to fight it out. They always succeeded, but it was not in their nature to kill, but to defend themselves, they would. And no one knew their identity; nothing that would come back to their families.

This trip the four men had decided to hunt deer and wild boar in the Appalachians because they kept to the hills to avoid the traffic in the valleys. Not only were there troops around but the everyday commute of civilians made enough noise to distract the animals from venturing into the valley unless foraging for their own food required it and that was mostly during the nights.

They had camped about thirty miles from home and were well into their third day when Jesse complained about not finding anything to hunt and suggested they head home. As luck would have it, coming down out of the mountains they spotted their first deer. It was a doe and too far away to hit it with an arrow.

Stephen suggested, Let’s shoot it, snag it and run. We can clean it farther along so we won’t be in the open too long.

That sounds like it might work, said Pete. You’re the better shot, Stephen. Why don’t you shoot it and we’ll grab it as we go by.

Hey, I can argue about that, said Jesse, I think I’m the better shot.

I’m the better shot, said Pete, but it was Stephen’s idea. He looked at Stephen, Do it!

Stephen had already sighted the deer and simply squeezed the trigger and moments later the doe fell. They rushed out of the cover of the trees and descended upon the doe. Pete leaned over his saddle and stretched out his arm and scooped up the prey and they fled into the trees on the opposite side of the small valley as shots rang out all around them. The four men scampered through the heavily wooded area and, staying in single file, out maneuvered the would-be attackers. They went over two small hills through some dense brush and out into the open again and were headed towards home when a small patrol from the south caught sight of them and started shooting. Though Jesse and his friends had no reason to fight them, instinct told them they were the enemy.

The four men raced as fast as they could over the terrain, and decided that the only action was to slow the patrol down so when they passed over the next rise, they quickly dismounted and took up defensive measures. Jesse grabbed the reins of all four horses and tied them to the trees nearby. They all crawled up to the edge of the hill and waited. Hoping upon hope the attackers would see the frivolous chance they had and would turn around and head back, but that wasn’t the case. Pete, Jesse, Stephen and Billy stood next to trees wide enough to conceal them and had their rifles loaded up and aimed in the direction of the approaching men. The troops did not keep in single file, but instead, were spread out amongst the hillside and still shooting though they couldn’t see anyone in their sights.

Pete leveled his rifle and shouted to the others, Make your shots count guys! and then the volley rang out. It was all over in a heartbeat. Seven men lay on the ground and their horses scattered but not far. Once rider-less, the horses slowed down and soon began foraging.

The cordite in the air was soon dissipated by a breeze and the sight of the dead made Pete still question the training the troops should have gotten before going into battle. No one should have followed them up the hill at such an eager pace. This was senseless but they had to do it. The troops would have been able to track them back home and that was not going to happen.

They all knew their families had avoided sending their only sons into battle, not knowing if they would ever return, so when a troop came near the house, they were secreted away in a cellar through which the only access was a hidden panel in the floor of the house covered by a rug and furniture. The houses were never inspected. Pete also had a hidden place out in the yard provided he was caught out in the open, and in the barn he would hide in the loft, but no one ever looked.

What do you want to do with the bodies? asked Jesse.

The four men looked at each other and came to a silent conclusion. They rounded up the horses and threw the men over each horse, tied them on as well as they could and sent the horses back towards the valley in different directions; someone would find them. They rode another hour to get out of the area and then stopped to clean the deer before going any farther.

Since we’re this far north, let’s go to your house first, Stephen said to Pete, then we’ll head home from there.

Sounds good to me, said Billy and to Pete he said, Your mom’s the best cook.

And we’re bringing home supper, said Stephen.

That’s great! said Jesse, I can’t wait to get some of mom’s home cooking.

Then it’s settled, said Stephen. Let’s ride! He whirled around his horse and was the first to head east towards home.

They only went a few miles before camping for the night and then got an early start the next day before heading for home. What he would find there was devastating!

It was a burial ceremony at his home. He could see his house from a half mile away and the closer he got the more people he saw. He was at full gallop as he entered his property and quickly dismounted only to be slowed up by neighbors who wanted to comfort him. He broke through their grasp and tried to find his mother. She was not there but in the doctor’s care not far away.

He was told of the horrors that had happened a few nights before, and as they prepared to lay his father to rest, he became fully aware of the anger growing inside him. After the burial he was shown where his father was found. His friends gathered around and together they made a plan. It was difficult to calculate exactly how many there had been, but based on the tracks, they guessed there had been several of them. He went into the barn to saddle a fresh horse only to find that they had been taken. This only made him madder as the day progressed.

Let’s rest our horses tonight and get an early start in the morning, said Jesse.

You guys should go home, this is my problem.

When Jesse, Billy and Stephen followed Pete home they were going to camp in the barn and leave the next morning, but under the circumstances, they decided they best stay, We’re not leaving you, Pete.

Thanks guys.

We’ll bunk in the barn tonight.

No you won’t, I have plenty of room. You can stay in the house tonight.

What about your mother?

She’s going to stay with friends for a few days until I can be here for her.

Pete had grown up on a small farm in rural Virginia in the northern part of the state. He knew it was unheard of to have over six inches of snow during the second week of October. So, before they bed down for the night, Pete had made sure the horses were fed well and given plenty of grain and fresh water.

Chapter 2

The following morning, Pete and his friends were huddled next to the tracks. It was obvious which direction the hunted men were headed. They mounted up and began their search. Pete lost their tracks a couple of times but quickly found them again. They could see that their prey was trying to be elusive as to where and how they were approaching homes and towns, but the four men were relentless. Unbeknownst to the prey, Pete and his group would travel farther than the men did each day, thus they were closing the gap.

Pete approached a small hill, and while Stephen and Jesse stayed with the horses, he and Billy started up the embankment. Wearing long pants and a heavy coat, they trudged through the thick overgrowth of vines and saplings as they fought their way to the top.

What are we looking for? Billy asked.

I want to get a view over the hill and see if I can see any sign of them going somewhere I wasn’t expecting.

The valleys that lay ahead were small and divided amongst the smaller hills and a few mountains. From their viewpoint they could see the tracks clearly because the snow had not melted on this side of the hill. They wound around the hill to the west from the field that lay before them. They had come up to the hill and decided to stay in the shadows, which was their mistake because the snow had provided clear evidence of their trail and it looked as if they were riding two abreast. They were not trying to hide, and they had slowed down quite considerably.

It looks like they don’t have any idea they’re being trailed.

I’m sure they thought they were at some point.

Do you think these are the guys that caused all those problems up north we heard about?

That’s my guess. And they are not ones we should take lightly.

They followed the tracks but soon Pete discovered they had somehow backtracked. He could see in the distance a small farm with a few men outside. It looked busy so he believed they had made this detour to avoid that farm. He believed that they were from this area because he couldn’t see the farm from the other side of the hill, so they knew to come this way. He descended the hill on the other side and took a better look at the tracks and he figured he was not far behind them; the tracks were fresh. They didn’t appear to be in any hurry.

Jesse, head over to those men and see if they heard or saw anything. We’ll stay on their trail.

They followed the tracks for a while until he could make out distinctive patterns in the prints. Pete knew he needed his knowledge to follow the men and not his emotions. One horse in particular had a gouge in its shoe. It was easily identifiable in the mud and Pete was a good tracker. The ones responsible stayed off the main roads and kept to themselves. Twice they crossed roads to stay in the fields and wooded areas. He figured there were at least four and maybe five. He looked to the sky and watched the clouds roll by. A small breeze blew them east and the sun came out between them and warmed the area. It was just enough that Pete and his friends took off their winter coats.

They found a small clearing and held up until Jesse got back. They built a small fire and broke for lunch. Stephen put on coffee to boil while Pete and Billy fixed the beans and fatback. The meal was being served just as Jesse caught up to them.

Their son saw some men headed west yesterday but wasn’t sure how many there were. He thought less than a dozen.

I thought there were over a hundred men doing all that killing?

Probably more than that, said Pete, but they could have split up days ago and we’re only finding these guys here. There might be several groups headed south but this is the only group I’m interested in.

Maybe they got lost?

They’re not headed in a straight line, added Stephen.

Pete and his friends picked up after their meal was finished, buried the fire pit, and headed out.

After a few miles Pete got off his horse and inspected the tracks again. He identified the horse with the gouge in the shoe but also discovered another horse had a broken shoe and was missing almost an inch from the right front hoof. Somewhere it must have landed on something hard or caught on something to break it off. The horse must have had the shoe on for a long time and was not properly taken care of. Soon that horse would become lame if it wasn’t addressed. That would be to their advantage, though he hated the thought of an injured horse.

The men kept heading south, so Pete figured they were confederate soldiers, but then they unexpectedly turned west. Later that evening, they followed the tracks to another house. This one was even more remote than his and they approached it with caution. Pete dismounted and walked his horse towards a corral and tied up his mount. The other three men spread out and circled the house. The horse’s ears pricked up and he took that as a warning. He levered a round in the chamber and approached the house on foot. The horse whinnied and caught his attention and he soon found a body not far from his horse. He had been thrown in the bushes; discarded like trash. Then Billy hollered out, Got another one! They had both been shot. There had been no light in the house so he went to each window and looked in before opening the front door. No shots rang out as he entered and he found yet another body inside, all men so far. He hoped if there was a woman at the house either she got away or wasn’t home when they showed up. He was hoping for the best.

The house had been ransacked and left in a mess. If they were searching for something, chances are they found it. They searched the whole house, even tapping on the floor looking for a hiding place such as he had in his house and found no one else. After a careful search of the property he found tracks where they had left so they all mounted up and followed. The trail headed back north and the next day they found them. They all dismounted and stayed hidden. Pete viewed them with his spyglass from a distance. He kept in the shadows of the trees and watched.

Damn blue bellies! said Stephen after looking through Pete’s spyglass.

They were Union soldiers, or at least they were dressed in their uniforms. They were not clean and shaven as one would expect and they looked unruly. The shabbiest looking feller was wearing an officer’s uniform but he most certainly was no officer. They left a blazing fire and the smoke could be spotted for a long distance. Not smart for someone that just left a crime scene, even though they had ridden several miles. They were oblivious to the fact that they were being followed.

Are we going to go in there blazing?

I don’t think so, said Jesse. If they spot us, we could be cut down before we’re in range to get a shot off.

Jesse’s right, said Pete. Let’s observe for now.

They could see there were six of them. They stayed back and avoided making any noise at all costs. It was late in the afternoon and Pete knew they were not going anywhere tonight so he traveled a little distance away and found a quiet place to make camp where they could have their own fire and not be noticed. Close to midnight, with Billy keeping watch, Pete awoke and stretched. Billy woke the other two up and they quickly dressed.

We’ll keep the horses here and walk in.

Just so you know, said Pete, if these are the guys, I’m going to kill all of them. If you have a problem you need to speak up now or walk away. No hard feelings.

I’m here till the end, said Billy.

The other two nodded, Me too, they said in unison.

The humidity rose up just enough to create a fog, but the visibility was fair due to a full moon, though it did make the walk a little eerie. They walked in single file and kept the noise to a minimum, watching where they stepped. The glow from the camp illuminated the trees around them and made finding the horses easy. They had the horses tied up about a hundred feet from where they were sleeping and approaching them was no task at all. Pete inspected the hooves and found the one with the gouge in the shoe and it matched the one he remembered from his house, but the one with the broken shoe was not there. He inspected the shoes again and found none of them had been changed lately.

While he stood there one of the horses sensed his presence and walked closer to him. He rubbed down the horse, whispered in its ear and looped the reins around a tree branch and checked his leg and knew this was his horse. He walked silently away and then tripped on something and almost fell. Upon inspection he found a broken horseshoe. Now he knew there were seven men for all the other horses’ hooves were shod, but none recently, so one of them was indeed missing.

Pete waited until early in the morning and then the four men went in and slowly gagged and tied up each one. Pete, with a little help from his friends, dragged them out by their feet and hung them upside down from a tree.

A couple of them woke up immediately as they were being gagged, but were quickly knocked out. Three others were so drunk they didn’t know what was happening and one man was so big it took three of the men to haul him up into the tree.

When the sun began to shine, Pete and his friends donned full uniforms , then fixed breakfast and waited until those hanging were all awake. Two of the men had their eyes transfixed on Pete’s group the whole time as they ate breakfast and drank some coffee while they waited.

Pete and the guys had all changed into Confederate uniforms because this was war time. During the past year the four men had had battles with troops from both sides of the war and when they were able, took clothes that would fit them from the fallen soldiers; knowing at some time the uniforms might come in handy.

When one of the men moaned behind the gags, Jesse finally went over and woke them all up and removed the stuffing’s from their mouths.

Who the hell are you? one of them asked as he swung around to try and get a better view of the people that hung him up.

I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, said Pete, and then I’m going to decide what to do with all of you. Depending on your answers, you might just live.

What do you mean, we might live?

They’re not going to live, said Stephen.

What do you mean, we’re not going to live?

He means your killing days are over, said Jesse as he walked around so they could get a better look at who said it.

One of the men noticed the uniforms they were wearing, Hey, wait. You can’t kill us. We’re from the south too, said the one they thought smelled the worst.

Yeah, we are, we’re from Georgia! said another.

Pete walked over and looked down at the man, What makes you think that means anything to me?

You are wearing our colors. You are rebels, just like us.

And you’re Blue Coats!

No, no we are not. We just stole these uniforms.

Uh huh, he’s right, said Stinky.

First question, said Stephen.

What do you want to know? asked another thief.

Where did you get these two horses? Pete asked as he held onto the reins.

They’re mine, said one of the men.

Wrong, they’re mine. Pete picked up his rifle and shot the man as another guy screamed, Help! and Jesse hit him in the jaw with the butt of his rifle and knocked him out. You could hear the teeth break as he did it, or maybe it was his jaw. Since he was hanging upside down the full force of the blow caught him on the underside of his jaw, snapping his head backwards.

And, added Stephen, if you weren’t guilty about something, you wouldn’t be way out here hiding from everyone.

There are laws against horse thieves and since you all decided to camp way out here, I’m going to have to be judge and jury and that man is guilty, Pete said, pointing to the man he’d just shot, That’s a hard price to pay for stealing someone’s horse, don’t you think? he asked the remaining four that were conscious.

Jesse pulled out his knife and that got their attention, but instead of approaching the guys, he grabbed the rope from the dead man and sliced through it. The body fell to the ground.

Yes, yes! they said in unison.

What’s his name?

Cody Kemp.

How about the one I knocked out? asked Jesse?

Jeremiah

Pete could smell the fear in them and he could smell the odor as one of them relieved himself involuntarily.

Now we’re down to five of you, Pete stood up and walked his horse over to the men. This is my horse. I know this because last year she got this scar on her leg from getting spooked and she ran into a fence post and broke it off, scraping her legbadly; she walked with a limp. I had to work with her for a few months until she was able to walk again. Pete knelt to get closer to their faces and asked, Who helped him steal my horses?

I did, I did and I am real sorry sir. We just needed an extra horse. You see we were doubling up on two of the horses. I mean we were going to return them, honestly sir.

Stephen shot the man from behind.

I don’t believe anything you say, said Pete. If you wanted to borrow the horses, you could have asked, right? You could have bought the horses and I am sure my dad would have sold them to you.

Your dad?

There wasn’t anyone around, said another man. But right after he said that, he regretted it because three of the guys were smiling.

Wrong! My father was murdered by one of you and you stole our horses! he said as he started yelling. That makes you all guilty, right? The three men started to sweat and the one that Jesse knocked out was still unconscious but moaning a little.

Pete stood up and looked around to see if the gun shot had alerted anyone. A cool wind could be felt as the trees swayed back and forth, but the men hanging upside down only felt the warmth as the blood rushed to their heads.

We didn’t kill anyone, stammered one man trying to argue his case.

Thank you. Usually, I find out that the person who first says they didn’t do anything typically is the one that did it. Pete picked up his rifle and as he aimed another man yelled, He killed him, he did it and we didn’t have anything to do with no killing!

You shut up Ira, it was all your idea!

Yeah, but I didn’t pull the trigger!

Pete shot one in the shoulder while Jesse shot the other one in his leg. They both writhed in pain.

It was self-defense. That guy shot at us first, he yelled.

You are wrong. When I arrived home, I found our rifles and shotgun still in the rack in the house and my father’s body was found outside, said Pete.

Billy walked around to face the three men and said, Pete’s dad was shot in the back. Did you ever think that with all your money you could have bought the horses from Mr. McAlester?

Oh, shit, one of them said, we do not have any money and we could not buy the horses. If you wake up Jeremiah, he will tell you.

You’re right about not having any money, said Pete, I went through all your belongings while you were hanging there and found almost a thousand dollars between the six of you and those horses would have cost you about fifty or sixty dollars total. So instead of being honest, you took to thievery and murder. You are part of the marauders that have been terrorizing the north for months; killing, raping and God only knows what else. That probably made it really easy to prey upon an old man like my father.

That’s our money!

And I’m going to keep it for burial costs, he said, but before we go any further, tell me your names.

I’m Leonard and that there is Ken and Ira, he said, then looking at Stephen, and Chris is the one you shot in the back of the head.

Who was the seventh man?

What do you mean? Ken asked.

I inspected all the hoof prints and saw one of the horses is wearing a broken shoe, but none of the horses here have a broken shoe. In fact, I found the shoe over there, he said pointing towards the tall grass. Where is he and what is his name?"

Jeremiah moaned and Stephen went over and smacked him on the side of his head to wake him. He came out of it slowly and realized he was still hanging by his feet.

There’s just the six of us, I swear! said Leonard.

Pete went over and pulled out a shovel from one of the saddles and threw it on the ground. Now we’re down to five, four of you here and one missing. I need the name of the man that left you all here and escaped and I want to know where he was headed.

His name is William, William something…. Courtland… no, Carter or Carpenter.

And he said he had family in Saint Louis, Leonard said. Are you going to cut us down now?

But Pete was not finished with them just yet. He walked his horse over and backed him up so his hind quarters were in direct relationship with the back of the man who admitted to stealing his horses. Do you know what real pain feels like? Do you understand what it is like to lose your father to murderers? Pete jerked the reins down on the horse and he bucked and kicked out behind him and though one leg missed, the other one connected squarely with Ken’s back. The force snapped his spine and the guy passed out.

Do you guys like to hurt women? Pete asked, and when he did, one of the men looked over into the tree line and this caught Jesse’s attention.

What’s over there? Jesse asked as he headed over in that direction.

As he did, one of the men piped up, Nothings over there!

Jesse kept walking and soon found the body of a woman. She was naked and bruised, Shit, he said aloud, We got problems, Pete.

The other guys all walked over to see what he had found, and Stephen, being the strongest of the four, picked the woman up and brought her back to the clearing. He gently laid her down about ten feet in front of the men. When he did so, she moaned.

Jesse knelt in front of the men and said, This woman was not only beat up badly and left for dead, but I believe you all took turns and had your way with her, am I right?

No, not all of us.

Which one of you didn’t? asked Stephen.

Jeremiah didn’t.

Pete and his men looked at Jeremiah, and though he was hurt badly, he looked them in the eye and said I have been tired of these guys for so long, I’ve wanted to leave, but they said if I ever did, they would kill my family when they got back home. But I have never killed anyone.

Is this true? asked Pete.

He’s just a wet behind the ears momma’s boy, said Leonard. He won’t even carry a gun.

I just take care of the horses, replied Jeremiah.

I see now that the rest of you like to hurt women, said Pete. So, which one of you hurt my mother? He did not get an answer because two of the guys looked at each other quickly. Pete took out a straight razor and gelded the two men while they hung upside-down. They screamed until they passed out.

Pete and his friends, along with the help of Jeremiah, buried all five men.

Jeremiah was then set free after he helped dig the graves. He did so with a smile on his face, at least as much of