Kettle Creek by jwindwalker Page 1

Kettle Creek
by
© jwindwalker

Page 1

Chapter 1

As the rain fell against the one bare window of the cheap hotel in the town of Butte Montana, I lay on the bed on my back and once again allowed my thoughts to drift backward in time. It was only a matter of minutes before it returned to the very reason that I was here. It was nothing new to me. These same thoughts had haunted me many times in hundreds of nameless town’s throughout the west. It was June 22, 1865. The place was Clay County, Alabama. It was a beautiful day. Marie and I had been married only one month to the day. We had built a beautiful house on Kettle Creek. I had hewn
the logs with my own hands. Each one for its own place. I had completed it in
December and presented it to Marie as a Christmas gift. She was delighted. We had just checked the crops. There were 640 acres of creek bottomland. only had 60 acres planted and as we finished our check of the corn planted by the creek we felt that we were the richest people in the world. The war had been very destructive but we were going to survive. We walked down to the creek for a drink of water and Marie took her shoes off and went wading in the creek.

We splashed each other with water laughing and playing like little children. We were headed back to the house but just as we came up to the stand of willows it happened. There were six of them. They were the scum of the earth. They rode toward us. I told Marie to get behind me. I never left the house without a gun, so fortunately I was armed. As they came up to us I told them to stop. They kept coming. One of them went for his gun. It was then I felt the .45 slug take me low in the left side. I lost consciousness and it didn't return until some time later. At first I couldn't remember where I was and when I tried to move I felt a searing pain in my left side. Then I remembered and my first thoughts were for Marie.

The night was just coming on but I could see her white dress about 50 feet from me. I forgot the pain and started to crawl toward her. When I reached her I saw that her dress had been torn off of her, and it was obvious that my precious Marie had been raped, time and time again. I lifted her in my arms and held her close to me. I felt something wet and sticky on her back. Suddenly I was filled with cold fear. I removed my hand and looked at the blood that covered it. Marie must have suffered a great deal before she died. Now my life was shattered. I struggled to my feet and made it to the creek. I ripped my shirt into pieces and washed the wound and dressed it as best as I could. I went to the barn and got a mule hitched to the buckboard and went for Marie. I buried her beneath the big oak tree in the front yard. That was the day that my life changed.

I gathered up what groceries I could pack, and saddled my best horse. I set out with two horses, a colt, a greener 10-gauge shotgun and a .44 Remington rifle. The nearest town was Ashland, as I passed through I stopped and woke the Doctor. After he had treated my wounds He tried to stop me from following them. It was his thought to get a posse, but to my way of thinking they already had too much of a head start as it was. I rode out. I felt no pain, no hunger, no mercy, only rage inside me that I knew would never die as long as even one of these animals were left alive.

Chapter 2

The Civil War had taken its toll on both sides. Many bad things had come from this war. Men who had once been caring family men had become hardened killers. Some who had been bad characters to start with had gotten much worse. The country was in turmoil. But then there was another problem that had resulted from this war. Many men came home from the war to find that the homes where they had lived all their lives and where their families had lived for generations no longer existed.

Mary had sat on the veranda every evening for months after Ed had left for the war. It hadn't seemed much different for the most part to begin with. Then the war began to take a turn for the worse and things didn't look too good for the South. It soon got even worse. The Eldridge farm was large and the house was far from any other houses. When the Union soldiers rode into the yard and demanded food Mary had no choice but to feed them. But when these men left they took all of the live stock and all of the food though little it had been to start with. They had also burned the house and the barn. Things would never be the same again.

The sun was setting over the Blue Ridge Mountains. No matter how ugly the war might be, these hills still managed to look so peaceful at sunset. As Ed sat on the ledge over looking the valley below he caught a glimpse of movement. A mere flash of gray in the distance. It was something felt more than seen. In this brief moment Ed felt a strange foreboding in his heart. One of those feelings that causes your stomach to feel sick. Ed worked his way down to the trail. Captain Eldrige called for Sergeant Downs. Ben Downs was one of Ed's oldest friends. He had worked for the Eldridges for many years and when Ed had rode out Ben had rode out with him. Ed told Ben to send two scouts out to find out what the movement had been about. Ben decided to go himself and took Cpl. Davies with him. In fifteen minutes the scouts were on their way.

Ed sat by the fire with a cup of coffee thinking about Mary and the farm. It would be good when this war was over and they could all just go home. Ed did not approve of any man being a slave and if that had been the only issue of this war, he would certainly be on the other side. Unfortunately this was not the case. There were many issues though not as publicized they too were important. The United States Government wanted the Confederate states to answer to a central government. This was an idea that did not set well with Confederates. It was the same reason that so many people had left England to start with. From the Indian point of view, it was better that the country be divided with two different governments rather than one more powerful government. It was a long shot but one worth taking.

An hour and a half after Sgt. Downs had left camp he and the corporal had heard a horse riding up the trail leading into the high country. Ben knew that who ever sat that horse had to know this country very well to be riding this mountain trail at dusk. It soon would be dark and a traveler should have made camp by now.

A feller who didn't know this country would ride right off into a ravine if he weren't careful. When the horse came into view there was no rider on him. That was odd but when Sgt Downs stopped the horse and grabbed the reigns all confusion left him. His heart came up into his mouth. Jess! Is that you Jess? Calling out could have been a risk but not with this horse. Old Ned would never have let anyone but Jess ride him. Jess Eldridge stepped out of the tree line where he had been waiting. Well I'll be. I see you have done pretty well at dodging them Yankee bullets Ben Downs. Well Jess, What brings you out on a moonlight ride up into the Blue Ridge? News Ben. I've brought news. I heard that Pa was up here and I rode up to tell him. Well Jess I guess you had better come with us then. We'll take you to him. I know he will be glad to see his oldest son. He has been real moody here lately maybe you can change that. I'm sure I can Ben, I'm sure I can.

Ed was sitting with his back against a tree. When he heard the men coming back he rose and turned around to face them. He was ill prepared for what he was seeing before him. It was Jess, his oldest son. He stood there in momentary surprise staring as though he were seeing an apparition. Not until Jess said, "Lt. Eldridge reporting sir." did Ed come to his senses. They grabbed each other and a shout of joy ensued from both men. Jess, what are you doing here? Pa, I came to bring you news. Lee surrendered and the war is over. We can all go home. Ed just stood there for a moment then he turned to Ben. Sgt Downs have the men ready to move out at first light. We're going home.

There would be much to do before the actual trip home would begin but the war was at last over. Ed just wanted to get home to Mary and their younger son. Jimmy was only twelve years old and had not had to go to war. For this Ed was glad. It was always beautiful here in the South. Even during the winter months. There was very little snow and the weather was not too cold. Some years it was as though there was no winter at all. Alabama was a long way from Tennessee, but it would not be long now. A few weeks and Ed and Jess would be home. Wouldn't Mary be surprised? What a day it would be.

Chapter 3

I caught up with them the first time near a little town just across the Mississippi line. Only four of them were left and one of the four was in as bad a shape as I was. I recognized one of the horses in front of the saloon. I worked my way around the side of the saloon to see how many there were inside. There was only one. The one that I had wounded. I went in through the back door and walked right up in front of him and stopped. He stood there looking for a moment then there was a flash of recognition in his eyes as he reached for his gun. He died before he got it out, with a bullet in his heart. As he fell I turned toward the front of the saloon just as the fourth man was coming through the batwings. He died without ever knowing what hit him or why. I heard the horses as they rode hard out of town, but I knew that they could not ride far enough or
fast enough to get away from my anger.

A letter in the pocket of the man who had been wounded was addressed to a man named Rollie Slogan. The other man had papers on him which had identified him as Ben Slogan. I figured that they were brothers. I later found out that they were cousins and that there were lots more Slogans where these two came from. As it turned out the Slogans were ridding with the two Elder brothers who were not related to them, but both of the ones I had killed at Kettle Creek were Slogan kin. Jerry Slade and Buck Towns. Fred and Harold Elder were some place out in Texas but the Slogans were Mississippi boys. Believe me, it didn't take long for them Slogans to get word that some of their kin was dead and who done the killing and which way he rode. They set out tracking me and done a right smart good job of it too. The only mistake they made was to under-estimate me. You see I am half Cherokee and a quarter Creek. My mama is full blood Cherokee and my papa was half Irish and half Creek. Now, Cherokee is not the real name for my Mama's People. The real name is Ani Yunwiya and I was raised mostly in those old ways. All that Indian training along with riding through a war taught me one thing if it never taught me nothing else. WATCH YOUR BACK TRAIL.

I made camp about three days across into Oklahoma . I had known all day that I was being followed but I never let on. I just kept right on riding like I was going to a picnic. I made camp, built a small fire and put coffee on. I threw my bedroll back next to some rocks and out of the light of the fire. I had some coffee and some hard tack and pemmican along with some cold biscuits, then doused the fire.

It must have been around midnight when they came sneaking up. I waited until they were in range of the double-barreled Greener, then I stepped out from the rocks and told them to stop. I knew that probably wouldn't mean much to them so as I spoke I cocked both barrels of the .10 gauge. That had its desired effect. They both froze in their tracks. I asked why they were following me, and who they were. They were Handy and Led Slogan and they were following me because I had killed their brother Rollie and their Cousin Ben. As Handy put it "they were aiming to kill me and there weren't much I could do about it." I thought about this for a couple of seconds and decided they meant it. I squeezed both barrels of the .10 gauge at the same time. I didn't even bother to bury them. I figured by noon the buzzards would tell somebody where they were.

The rage inside me had grown so much that It was now only a cold hatred. I no longer even cared if I got killed myself. As long as I got the Elder boys before I died. My mission in life would be accomplished. I did not think past a time when I would put the last Elder in front of that big Greener and pull both triggers. I would worry about the rest later.

Chapter 4

Ed led the men down the narrow mountain trail south. They did not have much food and the long years of war had certainly taken their roll. It was very slow going due to the rain that had set in just before dawn. It rained a good bit in the higher country. The horses lumbered wearily along waiting for the next rest. To Ed the air seemed to smell so much better today than it had yesterday. He hoped that it would smell better every day.

Ed had survived two bullet wounds and several bayonet scars. He was wise enough to know that there might be Northern Troops that had not gotten word that the war was over. In any case he would have his men proceed as though the war had not ended until they reached a more populated area. They would most likely stand a better chance then of not running into stragglers.

It had taken several days to get down to Memphis. It surely didn't look like the same town he had once known. It had seen many hard times and likely to see many more before it could grow back to it's former stature. It was a real beautiful city at one time. It was here in Memphis that Ed and Mary had shared their honeymoon. That seemed as though it had been centuries ago. Not so long though. Twenty-two years ago they had taken vows to love each other. It had been the beginning of a life long romance. A year after they were married, Jess had been born. They had named Jess after Ed's father.

Their family life was grand and they had few problems up until the war came. The sun was warm on the veranda. It would soon be hot and the cool of indoors would be more inviting. But for now the beautiful April mornings were refreshing. It was as though the world was being reborn. The fragrance from the rose garden drenched by the morning dew thickly fragranced the air. It mingled with the fragrance from the Night Blooming Jasmine. Nothing could possibly make the beauty of this morning any better.

Mary was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a horse coming leisurely up the lane. Who could be calling at eight in the morning? Of course it would be a beautiful day for a ride. Her thoughts had not gotten any further than that when she saw the splendid black stallion prance through the gate. The bold young man rode right for the Veranda. Mary stood up and brushed at a wisp of hair. She walked over to the steps and waited for the handsome young rider to get closer.

There was something vaguely familiar about him but she could not place it. Just some-thing that made her feel as though she had known him all of her life. He rode up to the steps and tipped his hat. May I help you sir? He just sat there looking down at her. Looking from head to toe. Yep, I reckon you can. With that he leaned over and slipped his arm around her and sat her on the horse in front of him. She turned bright crimson from the top of her head as far down as he could see. She turned very indignant. You put me down right now before I call Papa. I will as soon as we get to know each other a little better. I don't want to know you any better than I do right now. You kidnapper! He just laughed and kicked that black into a lope.

He turned down toward the creek and rode along the willows for a while. He stopped and sat her gently on the ground. He continued to sit on the horse. Aren't you going to get down? Are you just going to leave me here? He chuckled softly. Do you want me to get down? No! I want you to take me home. Why did you bring me here anyway? Well, it is Saturday and I heard that on Saturdays there are so many young men who come courting you that they have to draw straws just to talk to you. I knew if I was going to have a chance to ask you to the dance next weekend that I would have to get an early start. She laughed out loud and it was a warm full laugh. A sincere laugh full of fun and kindness.

He stepped down and took her small soft hand in his. Miss Mary, will you please
do me the honor of going to the dance with me next Saturday? She threw back her head and laughed that wonderful laugh again.

Why, Sir! You came riding up to my veranda and kidnapped me. You rode me off into these here woods on horseback all alone. I don't even know your name and you expect me to go to a dance with you?

Yes Ma'am I sure do. And as for my name; I am Ed Eldridge. You may not remember me but I sure do remember you. I have remembered you a lot more since I saw you in town yesterday when I got back. My Pa was Jess Eldridge. I was away at school when I got the message that my Pa had died. I rode hard but he had been buried two days when I got here. I am so sorry! Uncle Jess told us a lot about you. He and Papa were very good friends. He was very proud to have his youngest son attend West Point. He wrote me about you Mary. He said that if I didn't come home and marry you that some of these fellows who were always coming courting would. She turned beet red again. Why Mr. Eldridge! are you asking me to marry you or go to a dance? It was his time to turn red.
He didn't let it bother him though. He smiled and looked into her big brown eyes.
Through the mischief she saw the sincerity. Maybe both he said. But first the dance. Will you go with me? She barely realized that she had just said yes.

It was a beautiful dance and everyone there could see that there was a spark glowing between these two young people. A spark that would soon be fanned into love by the winds of summer.

A few weeks later as they walked hand in hand across the veranda to the garden together. Mary stopped and lifted her face toward Ed's . He bent and kissed her gently on the lips. Ed, how long will you love me? she asked. He reached and broke a large red rose from the bush and handed it to her . Until the roses fade, He said. Then he leaned over and kissed her again. Harder and longer this time.

Chapter 5

By noon of the day that I had killed Handy and Led Slogan, I ran into a slight problem. Fred and Harold Wilder decided to part company. With two trails to follow I had me some thinking to do before I set out after them.

Harold has the younger of the Elder brothers. He continued on West while Fred turned almost due North. I decided. I followed Harold. He was still headed in a direction that could take him down around Texas and I figured if he got there he might not stray too far off until Fred got there. Also there were several other reasons. I was riding a big black stud that stood 18 hands high. Harold was riding a little roan mare that stood about 11 hands. Sooner or later she would wear out or go into season. In either case, the big black horse would find her. It is a bad thing when a man is riding on a vengeance. He seems to loose track of all the things that do not pertain to the immediate task at hand. Under different circumstances I would have been awed by the beauty of the country that surrounded me, but in my present state of mind I only had revenge on my mind. Not caring nor seeing any beauty. I rode set on my course by red hot lava that coursed through my veins.

Simpson City was not one of those little Western towns that would impress anyone. Even the horse flies were bored. There was one saloon, a barber shop, a restaurant ( if you could call it that) a bank, and the Longhorn hotel. Why a city like this one had a bank or was even called a city is beyond me. I took my horses down to the shed that served as a livery and checked them in with the hostler. I headed to the hotel to get myself a room for the evening. It was a very unusual hotel for such a small town. The Longhorn hotel was small but very clean. In fact it didn't even smell like a cow town hotel. It was cool inside and smelled like a flower garden to some extent. The place definitely was run by a lady and one with good taste and a strong will. I rang the desk bell and sure enough a very lovely woman who I judged to be in her late twenties stepped through the curtained doorway. I signed in, paid and took my key to room 10, at the top of the stairs and to the left, last room on the right.

I dumped my gear on the bed and locked the door. I stripped down to my drawers and bathed as best as I could in the basin. I put on a clean shirt and jeans, combed my hair which was starting to get pretty long and went down to the dining room. I left the rifle in the room. I didn't figure I would need it but I took the double barreled .10 gauge with me. I didn't even go to the privy without that Greener. With a double barreled .10 gauge in your hands, the odds are always in your favor. Of course my shooter was strapped on where it always stayed.

I sat at the table with that Greener lying across my knees in easy to get to style and slid back slightly from the table. I was mighty cautious, but then I was still alive too. I was almost through with my supper when two strangers came into the dining room and started towards my table. Now I had never seen either of these men in my life before, but I had been bushwhacked by enough Slogans to know one when I see him, and the one on the right was a Slogan. I would bet that big black horse on it. They weren't as dumb as the other two were. They split up on me I didn't wait to find out why. I put one barrel of double ought buckshot into that fellers middle at my right and swung on the one on my left. He was reaching for his gun and in the middle of a dive for the floor when that shotgun took off most of his head down to his shoulders. I started a dive for the floor , drawing my shooter at the same time. That was when the slug caught me in the right
shoulder and caused me to drop the shotgun. Since I was already falling, why I just went on and let the floor catch me, twisting so that I hit on my back.

I didn't figure to be able to use my right hand very well, but since I already had that big boomer in my hand, why I just put three slugs into that third fellows chest, and one into his face. I didn't bother to try to move but reloaded right then. I also broke down the Greener and put two more buckshot in the chambers from my front pocket. I hadn't seen that other fellow as he came through the door into the dining room and if he hadn't gotten all shook, he might have had himself a trophy. As it turned out as I was falling he was pulling the trigger as fast as he could. Now it don't take long to empty a six-shooter when you are in a hurry and this fellow was in a hurry. That's what cost him his life and saved mine.

The pain swept over me in wave after wave that made tears come to my eyes no matter what I did to prevent it. Mrs. Darlington came out from the counter and rushed over to me. Now most women-folk would have just took to yelling about shooting up her pretty clean hotel, or would have just fainted, not Mrs. Darlington. She had seen men shot and had seen men die before. Her own husband was shot down on the porch of the Longhorn hotel about a month before. She was advised to leave but her husband had inherited the hotel from his uncle and she would not leave. She also loved her man very much and would not leave him even in death.

What happened next I ain't real sure, cause the lights went out. When I woke up there was a Doctor and Mrs. Darlington standing over me. My wound had been dressed and taken good care of. The Doctor asked about my earlier wound which was at this point just a real sensitive ugly red. But it was near 'bout well now. I told him that I just ran into a little problem awhile back. He asked if the problems name was Slogan. I just looked at him. The Doctor told me that the story had spread far and wide about what had happened on Kettle Creek and that he knew who I was and where I was from. It didn't much change things that he knew, and I told him so, but thanked him for dressing my shoulder and taking out the bullet. I paid him and he left.

I stayed six more days, because it was my shooting arm that was shot up and it was sore as all get out and kind of stiff. No one in that town asked me to stay, and I never even once considered it. I just got my horses and gear, mounted up and rode out after the cold trail.

Now there is a secret to cold trailing. You don't guess where the prey may be now, you stick to where he was at the time that you got off the trail. It takes a lot of patience but if a feller stays patient and persistent he will soon find that he is back on a hot trail again. It took me a whole three weeks to line myself back on a hot trail but I had hit pay dirt at last and I knew it was only a matter of time before I killed Harold.

I had been practicing with my left hand and could hit pretty fair with it but I weren't in no hurry to catch up until my right shoulder healed up good. For now Harold was having a stroke of luck. Even though word was out that the bushwhack attempt at the Longhorn hotel had not been a success. He knew I was on his trail again. I was feeling a little better myself. I found out before I left Simpson City that the second man I had killed with the Greener was Tommy Elder. I finally got an Elder. Even if he wasn't one of the ones that killed my Marie. He was their baby brother.

This would mean that sooner or later Fred and Harold would have to come looking for me. They should not have sent their little brother. If they leave me alone, I leave them alone. If they don't leave me alone I shoot first and worry about their family tree later. Here lately I had been pruning family trees pretty regular. I only hoped that those cottonpickin Slogans ran out of family soon. Sooner or later one of them rascals was liable to get lucked up and do me in before I finished my mission. Now I don't mind dying, everybody has to cash in sooner or later and a man who lives with a gun in his hand like me can expect to die like that sooner or later. I just didn't want it to be before I had killed Fred and Harold.

I was about a day behind Harold, when I came across the body. It was a young cowpuncher. He had been shot in the back. The signs were easy enough to read. Harold had shot the cowboy in the back and had changed his saddle from the mare to the cow pony. He rode off leading the mare. I switched the saddle from the gelding to that big black horse which I had been saving as much as I could and lit out right after Harold.

I rode all day and through the night. Harold had been riding west but had switched to South by Southwest. When I came to the little town I wasn't sure if we were in Texas or where. I didn't know very much about the country West of the Big Muddy. I rode to the livery just as the sun was starting to come up. I checked the stalls and sure enough there was the mare and the gelding that Harold had taken from the murdered cowboy. I gave it some thought and decided that sooner or later Harold would have to come to the stable to get his horses. So I decided to wait right there on him. My wait was not in vain. About nine o'clock Harold stepped off of the porch of the Diamond Hotel and looked up and down the street, then started for the stable. I stepped back behind some stacks of hay and waited for him to come into the stable. He came in and went to each stall.

You should have seen him when he seen that big black horse. Well he just turned real pale and looked like he might get sick. I stepped out from behind that stack of hay and called his name. Well sir, Harold he just stood there real still. I told him to turn around. He just stood there real still. I told him to turn around. He still didn't move, so I told him to turn and draw or I would just shoot him in the back and I didn't really care which it was. That spurred him to action. Now I ain't one to brag but old Harold didn't have much going for him when it came to a stand up gunfight. He was better at ambushing folks. He went for his shooter but my first two bullets took him about a half inch apart just over his left shirt pocket and a little to the left. My third bullet took him right in the mouth.

I stepped back behind that stack of hay and reloaded my pistol and listened as the crowd made it on a dead run to the stable. I made sure that there weren't any more of them women killers around and just led out that big black and the gelding, mounted and headed out of town. I only had one left and I knew that I would never rest until he was as dead as his stinking brother was. The only trouble was I had a very uneasy feeling about Fred Elder. He was all animal and lived by the instincts of an animal. I knew that he would not be easy to take, but I also knew that I would take him if I had to die trying. In fact I expected to do just that. I even hoped that it would turn out like that. So long as I saw Fred die first.

I rode kind of West by Northwest. I figured I should cross Fred's’ path somewhere sooner or later and if I didn't by the time I got to the ocean, why then I would just turn around and head for Texas.