canyondiablo7thru9

“I want to talk to you.” Jincy moved over by Cort, who had first watch at the pueblo.

“I don’t understand what’s going on between you and Ben. The way I see it, we’ve all got to depend on each other to get out of this. I’m trying to do my part and I’m getting along just fine. I just don’t see why you and Ben can’t get along?”

“I’m thinking he must have done something really bad to you at sometime in your life. How long have you known him?”

“I’ve known of him for a long time but I only met him when the train was robbed. You see, Miss Shumpert, I wasn’t always a priest.…”

“I know. They’ve told me a little about you, said you were a shooter and that you killed a priest, that a man called Herod taught you to shoot.”

“He taught me a lot more than how to shoot, he taught me to steal, to kill. I rode with his gang. I was a part of it, all the horrible things that we did. I got shot up pretty bad one time and they left me at a mission. The priest there took care of me, got me back on my feet. He also talked to me a lot about how I could be forgiven for all the things I’d done, how I could change my life. I was gonna do it and then Herod come back for me. I told him I wasn’t going with him, I was going to enter the priesthood and that’s when he put a gun to my head and told me to kill the priest. He started countin’…I valued my own life above his and I killed him. He forgave me before I pulled the trigger.”

“He’s dead now. I thought for once in my life I was free of him and I went to St. Sebastian and entered the priesthood. Nobody was ever going to make me do something against my will except God. I put my life in His hands…and now Ben Wade has taken Herod’s place.”

“He used you to control me, Miss Shumpert, to make me rob the train. I blame myself for your situation. You were so good, so innocent. I wanted to protect you, to get you out of Diablo to your fiancé. Instead here we are out of one hell into another.”

“No, it’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so silly in Prescott we wouldn’t have been on that train. Don’t blame yourself for me. Oh, Father Cort, when we get to Utah we’ll be free! We can go anywhere, you can have that mission you told me about. I can help you with it. All that horrible past you’ve lived is in the past. It will never happen again; I’ll make sure of that.” She smiled a little and took his hand.

He covered her hand with his. “Miss Prescott, if we make it to Utah. I’m still a priest. The best thing for you to do is get on a train back to Tucson.”

She blinked her eyes and sat back against the wall of the adobe. “Priests don’t marry, do they?”

The next morning dawned cold and windy. They were able to barter for some corn and feed for their horses. The route ahead would get rougher and steeper and eventually there would be no grazing for the animals.

An old woman led them down the path out of the village, a well worn narrow path in the rock.

“Well, I told you boys they was comin’, comin’ along pretty good, I’d say.”

“Sleepin’ in the saddle. We’d best be on our way. We got a lot of open ground to cover and we don’t want to be out there when they hit the high country.”

“Probably got a tracker with ‘em.” They had a good view of Black Falls Crossing. “Looks like four men. At least we’re even.” Ben moved to his horse and mounted. “We got about 24 hours on ‘em. Let’s see if we can’t stretch that out.

He set a fast pace down from the mesa. By midday they were entering the canyons, going down precariously narrow passages along the cliff face and still following the trail as it led them deep into the canyon where a river awaited them to ford. Egan led the pack mule and East led Jincy’s horse because she near panicked when she saw where she had to ride. She mostly kept her eyes closed on the descent into the canyon.

The sun had already left the deep canyon when they reached the bottom and the river. There was a good-sized raft and poles pulled up on the bank for ferrying across.

East and Egan assessed the situation. They would take her, the mule and two of the horses across first then come back for the rest.

“I’d rather have this here river between me an' O’Neill before I lay my head down tonight.” Ben looked around at the rest of them.

The raft was pushed into the water, tied off to two trees to keep it from floating away while they loaded the horses and the mule. East calmed them down, talking to them that special way he had with horses. Each man grabbed a pole and they began the trip across the river. Jincy sat flat on the raft with her hands out on either side of her and her eyes closed until it spun around and the shouts from the men caused her to open her eyes to see exactly how her end was coming. But it was not to be. They soon had the raft righted and continued on until they reached the far bank. Mostly wet from the waist down, she shakily climbed off the raft. The horses and mule were unloaded and tethered on the narrow river bank.

As Jincy watched the raft lurching across the river, the thought came to her that if something happened to them she’d be alone out here in this Godforsaken country. She had food and water at the ready, transportation at hand and the trail she could see behind her moving up the flattened, rocky path. She could do it if she had to; she could make it out of the canyon. Looking back at her companions she prayed it would never come to that. She’d grown quite fond of them. Each in their own peculiar way had befriended her. Father Cort she realized she loved but could never have. He would be a priest.

She looked down at her wet skirt, hanging heavy now against her legs. She hadn’t bathed since she left Canyon Diablo except to wash her hands and splash water on her face. She began to giggle at her condition. Never in her life had she ever been in such a dilapidated state. When she stood up, the heavy wet leather skirt tried to pull her back down. She went over to her horse and pulled another skirt from the saddlebag. A dark brown wool, it would have to do until her riding skirt could dry. No petticoats to hold it out, it hung limply against her body. She draped her skirt over a rock and sat back down to watch the men load the horses onto the raft on the other side of the river.

It was with a sense of accomplishment that they made it in near darkness to the top of the plateau. Tired, wet and hungry, they went through the motions of setting up camp with a view of the opposite canyon wall, the river and the mesa above it. Jincy had a go at the corn, trying to pound it into submission. She laughed at her efforts and in the end they all had a go at it, producing a tasty, if gritty, cornbread.

By the firelight she examined Egan’s foot. She’d been changing the bandage daily for him. Egan leaned over to see and bumped heads with her. He laughed a little.

“It’s looking good, Egan. You know ordinarily you’d be keeping it propped up and staying off of it but we don’t live like that.” She applied the salve and wrapped a clean bandage around it.

Egan thought about what she’d said. For him they weren’t living at all. This was no kind of life. “You’ve got real gentle hands, Miss Shumpert.”

“Egan, why don’t you call me Jincy? It seems to me that we’re all friends and proper manners just don’t apply out here. I call you Egan instead of…what is your last name?”

“I don’t think I got one. I was always just Egan or boy. I prefer Egan.”

“That’s all right. There you go! You’re all done.” She put her medical supplies back in the box.

“It’s a nickname for Jane. My mother was Jane and so Maria called me Jincy.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled. “One thing I do know is how to apply a bandage.”

Wet clothes were ringed around the fire to dry, boots set a little ways back, hoping to be dry by morning. Jincy was physically tired and sore. It had been a long ride and quite a climb up the cliff path. Sometimes they’d had to dismount and walk their horses along. She was now scouring out the cooking pots with sand and wiping them good with a rag. She hadn’t heard him come behind her.

“You done real good since we left Canyon Diablo. I had my doubts about you.”

“No…and you won’t.” She put the pot down on a rock and sat down beside it. “The way I see it, we’re all in this together. Nobody else is complaining.”

Ben chuckled, “No, but they’re used to hard livin’. It’s gonna get harder.”

“I figured that. We’re running low on foodstuffs. I think tonight was the last big meal we’re gonna have for awhile, and then, well, I don’t know.”

“That old Indian said there’s a tradin’ post at the settlement but we got a long ways to go before we get there.”

“Well, I reckon that depends on what folks want to do. Best thing to do is lose yourself in the population somewhere for awhile”

“Utah is Mormon country." She licked her lips. “I don’t think I want to get lost there.”

“Miss Shumpert, you ought to go on back to Tucson. You ain’t wanted by the law. Nobody’s looking for you.”

“Unless your fiancé has got word you were abducted by a band of outlaws,” he grinned.

“He might be relieved. In fact I think he probably would be. Please call me Jincy. I don’t think I’m Miss Shumpert anymore.”

“Miss Shumpert might have been abducted but Jincy Shumpert came of her own free will. I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted to come”

She pleated her skirt in her hand. “Maybe, but I know now how wrong that was. He’s a priest.”

“No, I think you’re wrong. Inside of him he really is. He’s a good man. He’s honest and believes in something. What you did…it was wrong, wrong to force him to rob a train.”

“He didn’t have to. He never questioned it. He believed what I told him.”

“We won’t ever know, will we?” Ben smiled a little. “You better get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here a’fore you know it.” He stood up.

“Because, Jincy, I’m a rotten, thievin’, lyin, murderin’ scoundrel of the worst kind. Don’t you read the papers?” He disappeared into the blackness of the night away from the camp.

Jincy stared after him. That was the longest and first real conversation she’d had with him since they left Canyon Diablo. She didn’t know what to make of him.

Part 8

They were twelve days into their journey when they arrived at the settlement, which was little more than a trading post and a few outlying dwellings. Still in Navajo country, they approached with caution. It was decided to send East and Jincy to the trading post for much-needed supplies. Ben, Cort and Egan waited nearby, concealed within a rock formation.

A white woman was rare in these parts. Jincy stuck close to East.

“Just don’t look at ‘em, Jincy.”

“Let’s hurry up and get out of here.” She walked with him into the trading post, feeling very dirty and trail worn.

East bought two rifles and ammunition. Jincy bought food and a hat for herself, having lost hers in the wind while crossing a canyon. Extra blankets and some Indian corn were purchased. She’d become quite adept at grinding now and had also learned to ration food. Many times she’d regretted the big meals she’d cooked the first few days on the trail.

East loaded up the pack mule and they headed out toward the butte.

“Did you catch what that Indian was sayin’?”

“No…what?”

“The Mormon Road is east of here. This trail leads right to it. Otherwise we’d have to back track the last fifty miles or so to meet up with the other trail to Lees Crossing that’ll get us across the Colorado.”

“We can’t go back.”

“I know. Once we get on the road we can make better time.”

“No more canyons to climb in and out of?”

“I don’t know but at least there will be a road.”

They arrived back at the butte to see Egan and Ben climbing down the rocks. Jincy sat on her horse waiting for news.

Ben dusted his hands off. “They just keep on comin’. Less than a day behind us now.”

“If we get back on the trail it takes us to the Mormon road, bout a half day’s ride.”

“We ain’t got no choice in the matter.”

“Don’t we have time to eat? I got food now.” They’d had nothing since the morning before except for watery coffee.

“Ain’t got time for nothin’, Jincy.” Ben mounted up.

They rode fast along the trail bordering a deep canyon. It was nearly dark by the time they reached the road, the only difference being that it was wider and hard-packed sand filled the crevices in the rock bed. The canyon they’d been riding along now yawned before them, however they were not alone on the road. They’d passed several wagons before dipping down into the canyon. Finding a place to camp for the night away from fellow travelers was proving to be a problem so they continued on through the darkness across the canyon floor, a wash this time and not a river to ford. A winding, steep road up the other side brought them up to open country. A butte outlined in the darkness looked to be the only refuge and they rode toward it.

East and Egan tended the horses and Ben and Cort built a fire. Jincy gathered the food and began grinding out corn for bread.

“I bought some jerky. I thought it might come in handy. Too bad I didn’t think to give some out before we took off, something we could eat on the run.”

“Good thinkin’, Jincy, 'cause we’re gonna be on the run now. Once O’Neill hits this road out here it’s gonna be flat out, no stoppin' except for the horses, so anything you can fix up to take with us will be ‘preciated.”

“Those wagons back there. I think Jincy should join in with them, give her safe passage outta here,” Cort suggested.

“That’s up to Jincy. She ain’t slowin’ us down none,” Ben said quietly.

“It ain’t the slowin’ down, it’s what’s comin’. You know it and I know it. No matter how much distance we put between us and O’Neill, he ain’t gonna stop, Ben.”

Ben looked at him a minute. “I ain’t quitin’. As long as I can damn well ride, I’m goin’. Time comes we’ll make a stand at a place of our choosin’.”

“I ain’t quitin’ either. I made my choice. I was just thinkin’ of Jincy.”

“Well, we’ll put it to her, let her decide. It don’t matter to me one way or the other.”

It was put to her over their meal. Jincy was quiet for a while and looked up at her companions busily eating the meal she’d prepared.

“I thank you for thinking about me but if it’s all right I’d like to stay with you all. I could probably get on one of them wagons and go to Utah and then they’d marry me off to some old man with two or three wives already. I don’t know what’s coming for any of us but day by day we’re getting by. I’m living more now than I’ve ever lived in my life, pushing myself finding out what I’m capable of…what I’m made of. But if you don’t want me around anymore or think I’m holding you back, then I’ll go.”

“It’s not that at all, Jincy. It’s your safety we’re worried about,” Cort said.

“I can shoot. My father taught me to shoot bottles off a stump.”

“This ain’t bottles that’s after us, Jincy. They shoot back,” East said.

“If she wants to stay, let her stay.” Ben looked over at the rest of them.

“Okay with me.” East finished up his meal and put his tin plate down.

Egan looked at her for a long time then turned his head away, saying nothing.

The next morning the sky was leaden and gray when they set out. Before noon it was snowing. The almost warm days in the sun were over for awhile. It was April 3rd and they’d been on the run since March 21st. By the end of the day their pace had slowed considerably. Out in the open with no shelter in sight, they trudged on with the wind sometimes blowing the snow sideways. They passed wagons loaded with children, men and women with grim countenances standing around them, bogged down in the snow. After a while there were no more ruts in the snow covered road to follow and unknowingly they left the road at some point and were headed toward the painted desert.

Snow banked up against strange rock formations gave a ghostly look to the white landscape lit now only by moonlight. The snow clouds had dissipated. It was behind one of these formations that they finally took shelter out of the wind for the night. There was no fire and no cooked meal. They munched the flat bread and jerky that Jincy provided for them.

The next morning the sun was out and they realized their costly mistake and retraced their tracks in the snow back toward the road.

“Which way does the road go?” East asked once they made it back to where they started from.

“It goes north,” Ben answered.

“Which way is north?”

“It’s up that away,” Ben gestured.

“You don’t know, do ya? You don’t know where in bloody hell we are or where we’re goin’”

Ben glared at him. “You wanna lead? You know where you’re goin’, East?”

“You know I ain’t never been up in these parts before. No, I don’t want to lead.”

“Well, I ain’t been around here before neither. Everybody we’ve asked said this road goes to Utah. It’s the damn Mormon Road! They ain’t likely to be goin’ to California. And I don’t know how long it is or what’s up ahead of us but I do know what’s behind us and I doubt he took off in the desert last night.”

“There was no way to tell where the bloody road was.” East had been in the lead the night before when they left the road.

“Well, it’s done. We lost time we got to make up.” Ben turned in the saddle. One of the wagons was in sight, slowly moving along. He looked again at the mule and turned his horse up what he hoped was the road. The mule was going to have to be let go and soon.

Cort looked over at East. The young man’s frustration was showing. He’d never heard him address Ben that way. For himself, he was on a death march. He couldn’t go back to the life he’d planned at St. Sebastian and there was nothing forward for him but death or prison. At this point in time he preferred death. But still he prayed for their safe passage. He prayed for Jincy, too, who didn’t deserve this and damned himself for leading her on during that long train trip they had together. He’d noticed the signs in her and, flattered, he hadn’t put a stop to it. He had enjoyed her company and still her spirit lifted him out here in the midst of nowhere.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked her as he mounted his horse.

Jincy grinned, “Like a piece of toast all warm from the oven. I’m beginning to dream about food.”

They rode single file up the road, now following faint ruts in the snow left by a wagon somewhere ahead. Ben led with East behind him, Jincy, Cort and Egan bringing up the rear, leading the mule.

Part 9

Ben had never felt so weary in his life. It had been a hell of a run but ahead lay Lee’s Crossing and once over that, according to people they’d passed on the road, Utah was only ten miles ahead. Nearly three weeks over some of the most isolated, inhospitable territory imaginable they had traveled six hundred miles.

Lee’s Ferry lies in a rocky but comparatively open valley, just upstream of where the Paria River empties into the Colorado River. The Echo Cliffs, to the east, rise nearly 2000 feet above the valley floor. The Paria Plateau, to the west, rises nearly 3000 feet. The deeply-entrenched Glen Canyon lies upstream, on the Colorado. The also deeply-entrenched Marble Canyon lies downstream, channeling the Colorado River’s surging waters into Grand Canyon. With the canyons on either side standing as impassable barriers, early travelers knew that they had to cross the Colorado River in the vicinity of the Lee’s Ferry valley, or they had to trek hundreds of miles up or downstream to find another ford.

Lee’s Ferry was operated by the Mormons and a small settlement of about twenty-five buildings had over the years sprung up in the valley. Roads on either side of the river consisted of bone-jarring, wagon-breaking rock, bereft of any soil. At the river’s edge, travelers faced muddy banks, a fluctuating, sediment-filled, dangerous river, and a ferryboat that had been involved in several accidents.

As they stood on the banks they all felt it, freedom just the other side of the river. Ten more miles was nothing to them now.

“First thing I’m gonna do is find me a bed to sleep in,” East said, looking across the river, “and a bottle of whiskey to take with me.”

“You reckon Mormon’s drink whiskey?” Ben looked around at him.

“They can’t all be Mormon’s.” East’s brow furrowed. “Can they?”

Ben laughed a little, “I reckon there’s a man or two over there that drinks whiskey. Ain’t natural if they don’t.”

Jincy came up beside him. “I’m gonna have me a bath, a deep hot tub with soap and a clean dress to wear. What are you gonna have, Ben?”

“I ain’t rightly sure yet,” he turned and looked at her, “but a bath and a bottle sounds mighty good to me.” The smile on his face faded when he saw Egan and Cort racing to the landing. They’d gone into the settlement to trade the mule for a few provisions.

“They’re here!” Egan looked at Ben. “Saw ‘em as we’s coming out of the trading post.”

“God damn it!” Ben looked back across the river. The ferry had just made it to the other side.

“Which way are we going, Ben?” Cort asked.

“Upstream.” He sprinted toward his horse with East and Jincy following close behind. All dreams of freedom just at hand vanished.

They raced along the canyon wall with no hope of crossing now. Due to the rocky terrain they slowed their pace after awhile. Ben had had enough. It was time to make a stand and he began looking for a place they could get to that would allow them a look out.

It finally presented itself on the edge of Wahweep Canyon.

Ben rubbed his eyes. Even the damn rocks were beginning to move below. He turned around and called out, “Got any coffee made yet?”

Jincy hurriedly poured out a tin cup of coffee and took it to him. “Do you want some, too, East, Egan?”

“I’ll take some,” Egan replied.

She was trying to make herself useful. As she poured out the coffee, her eyes flicked over to Cort, who was loading weapons.

“There’s gonna be a fight,” she stated.

“I’m afraid so.” Cort looked up at her. “This is the last stand. We ain’t runnin’ no more.”

Jincy swallowed hard. “Well then, load up that shotgun for me.” She had been surprised that Ben let her light a fire but now she understood. He wanted them to know where they were.

Later East rubbed his eyes and focused again. “Here they come…see ‘em!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“I see ‘em.” Ben moved over and looked down. He turned back. “Throw somethin’ on that fire that’ll smoke.”

Jincy began gathering dried up leaves, shrubby sticks and tossed them on until it was smoking good.

“They’ve spotted it. Let’s load up and get outta here.”

She barely had time to dump the coffee pot and mounted her horse with it in her hand. As fast as they could, they moved a little farther along the ridge and waited.

They positioned themselves around in the rocks. Jincy sat on the ground with her shotgun. Ben and Cort had been talking.

“Jincy,” Ben said, “when the shootin’ starts get over here in this crevice and stay there. It’s about the safest place up here. If one of us falls, you don’t move, ya hear?”

“Yes.”

“We ain’t plannin’ on fallin’ now.” He smiled a little.

“If we all go down, however it happens, tell ‘em you was abducted, we took you as a hostage.”

“How am I gonna tell them that? I’ll be cryin’ too hard, Father Cort. Nobody’s gonna die up here…nobody.” Tears welled up in her eyes. During all the hardships she’d been through she’d never shed a tear until the thought of one of them getting killed settled on her.

Nobody slept that night. They kept a watchful vigil until dawn when the first bullet pinged off the rock near East. During the night the posse had worked its way up behind them and caught them by surprise.

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