Louis LAmour - Matagorda

Contents

BURIAL FOR A GUNSLINGER

D UVARNEY WORKED SWIFTLY down through the topsoil for a good two feet. Then it became slower work, but he kept on. He had the grave less than half dug when the riders began to come. He slipped the thong from his six-shooter and continued to dig.

There were three of them. All the horses wore the Circle M brand of the Munsons. Within a few minutes there were four more, then others, some of those hanging back, obviously come to see the fun.

You digging that grave for one, or two?

The speaker was a wide-hipped, narrow-shouldered man with a narrow-brimmed hat.

For one, Duvarney said. Youll have to dig your own, if you want one.

Somebody among the spectators snickered, and the man turned sharply around. The snickering stopped.

When you get that grave deep enough, youll find out who its for. We aim to bury you right there.

Chapter 1

M AJOR TAPPAN DUVARNEY rested his hands on the rail and stared toward the low sandy shore. It was not what he had expected of Texas, but whatever lay ahead represented his last chance. He had to make it here or nowhere.

He listened to the rhythmic pound and splash of the paddle wheels and looked bleakly into the future. Behind him lay the War Between the States and several years of Indian fighting with the frontier army; before him only the lonely years at some sun-baked, wind-swept frontier post, with nothing to look forward to but retirement.

When the war had broken out he was a young man with an assured future. Aside from the family plantation in Virginia, his father owned a shipping line trading to the West Indies and Gulf portsfour schooners and a barkentine, and good vessels all.

Tap Duvarney had made two trips before the mast on the barkentine, had taken examinations for his ticket, and had made two trips as third mate, one aboard a schooner, the other on the barkentine. His father wanted him to know the sea and its business from every aspect, and Tap liked the sea. He had taken to the rough and rowdy life in Caribbean ports as if born to it.

The war changed all that. His sympathies and those of his family were with the Union. He had gone north and joined up. Renegades had burned the plantation buildings and run off the stock; one schooner had been lost in a hurricane off this very coast, two others had been confiscated by the Confederacy and sunk by Union gunboats. The barkentine had disappeared into that mysterious triangle south of Bermuda and left nothing behind but the memory. The last schooner, beat and bedraggled, had burned alongside the dock when the war came to Charleston. Tap Duvarney returned from the war saddled with debts, his father dead, his home destroyed.

There seemed only one thing to do, and he did it. He went back to the army and a series of frontier posts. During the nine years following the war he fought Indians from the Dakotas to Arizona. He managed to keep his hair, but picked up three scars, one from a knife, two from bullet wounds.

Finally, his fathers estate had been settled and he emerged from the shambles with a bit more than seven thousand dollars.

It was then he heard from Tom Kittery.

C APTAIN WILKES STOPPED beside him now on his way to the pilot house. Duvarney knew that Wilkes was worried about him, and genuinely wished to help. The captain was a good man who had served on one of his fathers ships.

Youll find Texas a fast country, Major. Do you have friends here?

Oneso far as I know. I met him during the war.

You havent seen him since? Thats quite a while, Major. Is that the man youve gone into partnership with?

Duvarney thought he detected a doubtful note in Wilkess voice, and he was not surprised. He was a bit doubtful himself from time to time.

I know the man, Captain. Whatever else he may be, hes honestand hes got guts. I go along with that.

The cattle business is good, Wilkes said. Indianola has been the biggest cattle-shipping port in Texas for a good long time, so Ive had a good deal to do with it. I may know your partner.

KitteryTom Kittery. Old Texas family.

Kittery, is it? Yes, he has guts, all right. There isnt a man in Texas would deny that. And hes honest. But speaking as a friend, Id never leave the ship, if I were you. Come on back to New Orleans. Youre a good man, and you know the sea. Well find something for you there.

Whats wrong with Kittery?

With him? Nothingnothing at all. Wilkes glanced at Duvarney. I take it you havent heard about the feud?

Wilkes paused, then went on. Youre walking right into the middle of a shooting warthe Munson-Kittery feud. It has been going on since 1840 or thereabouts, and from the moment it is discovered that you are associated with Kittery youll be a prime target.

I know nothing about any feud.

You say you knew Kittery during the war? He may have thought the feud was a thing of the past because it seemed to be over. Until the Kittery boys left for the war there hadnt been any shooting for several years.

In the years before the war the Kittery faction numbered some of the toughest, ablest fighting men in Texas; so the Munsons laid low and played their music soft. And when the Kittery boys went off to war, the Munsons stayed home.

Even so, they kept quiet until Ben was killed at Shiloh. That started them stirring around a bit, but it wasnt until Tom was capturedreported dead, in factthat they began to cut loose.

They ran off a bunch of Kittery cattle, then burned a barn. Old Alec, Toms uncle, rode out after the Munsons and they ambushed him and killed him. After that they really cut loose. They killed two Negro hands who had worked for the Kitterys for years, and burned the old homeone of the oldest houses on the coast.

Cattle were beginning to be worth money, and the Munsons thought they were rich on Kittery beef. Only somebody stampeded the biggest herd one night and ran them into the Big Thicket. Well, you dont know the Thicket, but finding cattle in there is like hunting ghosts. The Munsons never were much on hard work, and rousting those steers from the Thicket would be the hardest kind of work. So the steers, and a lot of other cattle, are still in there.

Maybe those are the cattle I bought, Duvarney commented ironically. Its my luck.

Are you wearing a gun? Wilkes asked.

I have one. As a matter of fact, he had two guns. From what youve said, I should be wearing one.

You should. Wilkes straightened up. Im going up to take her in, but my advice to you is: stay on the ship.If you do leave her, be ready for trouble. They laid for Johnny Lubec, and they laid for Tom. They were waiting for him when the boat dockedmy boat.

Tom?

Wilkes smiled grimly. Tom was no fool. I told him what had happened to Johnny, so he left the ship as we were going past the island, entering the bay.

The fog was thick that morning, and he lowered himself over the side on a raft wed built for him, and paddled ashore. He slipped ashore on Matagorda Island, and nobody knows the island better than Tom. Its long, but so narrow you wouldnt think a man could hide there, but he managed it. Anyway, he was still alive the last time we were here, and I hope he still is.

You mentioned Johnny Something-or-other?

Lubec. Johnny wasnt a Kittery, just an orphan kid they took in and treated like one of the family. Folks said that Johnnys pa was one of the Jean Lafitte piratesthey had a hide-out on Matagorda themselves and used to careen their ships on the landward beaches.