Texas Blue

chapter 7



The Rio Grande



AFTER STRUGGLING TO GET A FEW HORSES UP THE bluff near the water, McNelly ordered the men to move in on foot. The Las Cuevas Ranch was only three miles from the river, and they needed the cover of night more than they’d need horses.

Duncan was tired, but excitement pumped in his blood like the pounding of war drums. He believed all the way to his bones that he was doing something that would make life safer for Texans, and if he lived the day, he’d have a grand story to tell. Only attacking on foot had its problems. How could they herd the cattle if the raiders turned them over? Or, if the rangers ran into Juan Flores, who was said to have two hundred men who stayed at his ranch, how could the rangers retreat? But logic and determination rarely held hands in the captain’s mind. He saw the fight coming, and all other parts of the plan didn’t seem to matter.

They moved over the land like shadows, silencing sentries before the men could fire a warning. Almost within sight of the ranch, they encountered a group of Flores’s men, maybe thirty or forty, well armed and on horseback.

The rangers spread out and stood ground, waiting for orders. Duncan knew if the rangers ran, they’d be cut down before they could reach the river. Their only chance was to stand and fight. McNelly marched them to within a hundred yards of the outlaws before he shouted orders demanding a quick retreat.

While the rangers took cover, the outlaws hesitated, suspecting an ambush. It must have looked obvious that only a few rangers had come forward, hoping to have the outlaws chase them. Just beyond they figured McNelly’s full force waited.

As the cattle rustlers tried to decide whether to follow, the rangers took cover and began to fire.

Duncan laughed as the outlaws ran, thinking there were far more rangers than thirty.

When the shooting stopped, Duncan leaned back against a rock he’d used for protection and smiled. Maybe he would live another day. He half wished Lewt Paterson was with him. Though Duncan wasn’t convinced Lewt didn’t sometimes step over the line, they’d formed a solid friendship. He admired the way the gambler took life as it came. The only flaw he saw in Lewt was that the man had nothing he loved, nothing he’d fight for, nothing he wouldn’t risk in a card game. It was hard for a man to be a hero when he didn’t care about the outcome, but if Lewt were there right now, he’d be taking bets on how the night would come out. Duncan had a feeling the rangers didn’t have the odds to win.

A few hours passed with only a few shots echoing in the night. With the sun would come the attacks from Flores’s men. Again and again they advanced, only to be held by thirty tired Texans. The captain sent a call for help, and thirty cavalrymen crossed the Rio and fought the day but returned at dusk, saying McNelly’s quest was hopeless.

Duncan was so tired he could feel his heart pound when all was still. Part of him wanted to go back with the cavalry, but he knew he’d stay. He’d gone two nights without sleep and his mind began to play tricks on him. When he closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was back at Whispering Mountain. When the firing started up, he was sure he was in hell.

A Mexican spokesman carefully approached with a white flag flying. He told McNelly and his men to leave Mexico.

The captain said he would only leave with the stolen cattle. McNelly wanted this to be the end of the cattle wars.

The small delegation sent to stop the fighting left to deliver McNelly’s demands. Duncan heard one man say, “Los Diablos Tejanos.” He’d been called the name before. It meant “the Texas Devils.”

Duncan settled in to try to get a few hours’ sleep. He knew, without a doubt, that there was one helluva fight coming.





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