had been nervous about the so-called savages, but the Comanches, Kiowas, and others who approached had appeared more ragged and hungry than warlike. For the price of a few beeves, which Benteen Calder had paid after some dickering, the herd was allowed to move on. Still, the threat of Indians stampeding the cattle and running some off for themselves had been a constant worry. No one had slept well at night.
But the worst was yet to come—the hundred-mile waterless cutoff to Dodge City. The boss had doubled the pace of the herd. But five days of blistering heat with little or no water had been torture for man and beast. Joe would never forget the sight of stumbling, thirst-blind cattle and horses, or the line of men and women sharing a single cup of murky water drained from the bottom of the barrel. He’d been hungry before; he’d been cold, tired, and in pain. But until then, he’d never known raging thirst and what it could do to a man’s mind and body.
When the cattle had caught the scent of water in the Arkansas River, more than a mile off, it had taken every man, riding hard, to hold back a stampede and slow them down. Even then, when the cattle finally reached the riverbank, a few had literally drunk themselves to death.
Joe had heard men talk about seeing the elephant—a metaphor for the realities of death and hardship on the trail. Now he could claim he’d seen the elephant, too. He was lean and hard, his skin burnished by sun and wind. In the weeks that had passed since his sixteenth birthday, he felt as if he’d aged years.
Benteen Calder had settled his herd north of the river and declared a three-day rest while he took his wagon and his bride into Dodge City to buy more supplies and sell off three hundred steers to pay for the remainder of the trip.
Even at rest, there was plenty of work to be done—cattle to tend, horses to shoe, harnesses to mend, meals to cook, dishes and clothes to wash. If there was any talk of the men going into Dodge City for a good time, it was only that—just talk.
From the riverbank, Joe could see all the way to the railhead town. In his mind, the jumble of clapboard buildings, stockyards, and railroad cars shimmered like a distant mirage. To a farm boy who’d only heard the stories, it was a place of legend—gunfights in the streets, outlaws and lawmen, fancy restaurants and saloons with gambling, whiskey, and loose women.
According to his mother, Dodge City was the Sodom and Gomorrah of the West. But the memory of her words only sharpened Joe’s curiosity. He didn’t have the money to try so much as a sip of whiskey. But he’d jump at the chance to look around.
“Hey, Joe!” Zeke Taylor, one of the younger cowhands, reined in his pony as he passed. “Want to go into town with me?”
At first Joe couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Go into town? You’re joshing me, Zeke.”
“Nope. When the boss was here yesterday, sellin’ off them steers, he asked for somebody to help load supplies in the wagon and keep an eye on it overnight. I volunteered, and he said to bring somebody else to help. So I’m bringin’ you. Throw down that wood, man, and saddle yourself a horse. I’ll wait, but not for long.”
Barely able to believe his good luck, Joe dumped the wood onto the stack, caught one of the horses in his string, and saddled it. Zeke was waiting for him by the river. Side by side, they nudged their mounts to a trot and set out across the expanse of yellow-brown grass. Dust from the horses’ hooves trailed behind them as they rode.
“Have you ever been to Dodge?” Joe asked.
“Yup.” Zeke grinned. He was young, maybe nineteen, a talker who was known to be lazy. Joe liked him well enough. “I was there with a drive last summer,” he said. “I got to know the place pretty well. I can show you a good time.”
“I can go along and look,” Joe said. “But I can’t pay for anything. I don’t have any money.”
“I’ve got a little cash saved up,” Zeke said. “Take my next night watch, and I’ll treat you. Deal?”
As a lowly wrangler’s helper, Joe had never been asked to take the night watch. But how hard could it be? “Deal,” he said, accepting Zeke’s handshake.