Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“All right, Jim, I told you they looked like a waste of time,” Hutto said.

“Well, there’s a horse, at least,” Jim said. Then he gave Roscoe a mean look.

“Strip off them duds,” he said.

“What?” Roscoe asked.

“Strip off them duds,” the man repeated. He picked up Roscoe’s pistol, which had fallen in the grass, and pointed it at him.

“Why must I?” Roscoe asked.“Well, your underwear might fit me,” Jim suggested. “You ain’t got much else to offer.” Roscoe was forced to take off every bit of clothing. He felt miserable taking off his boots, for he knew that wet as they were he’d be lucky to get them back on. But then, if he was dead it wouldn’t matter. When he got down to his long johns he became embarrassed, for after all Janey was sitting there watching. She was wet and muddy, and hadn’t said a word.

The man seemed to think he might have money sewed in his long johns, and insisted he take them off. Hutto poked him with the barrels of the shotgun, something he couldn’t ignore. He took them off and stood there naked, hoping Janey wouldn’t look.

Of course the men found the thirty dollars he was carrying in his old wallet—it represented a month’s wages, and was all he had to finish the trip with. But they had found that before they made him strip. They seemed reluctant to believe it was all the money he had, and casually proceeded to pick his clothes apart with their knives.

“The thirty dollars is all I got,” he said several times.

“I guess you wouldn’t be the first man to lie,” Jim said, picking at the seams of his pants to see if he had any greenbacks sewed in them.

Roscoe was appalled, for the clothes that were being destroyed were the only ones he owned. Then he remembered that he was going to be killed anyway and felt a little better. It was very embarrassing to him to have to stand there naked.

The men weren’t watching Janey—they were too intent on trying to find money in his saddlebags. While they were all ignoring her she had been quietly scooting backwards on the slick grass. Jim had his back to her and Hutto was winding Roscoe’s old pocket watch. Roscoe happened to look and saw that Janey was quietly creeping away; they had tied her hands but had neglected her feet. Suddenly she began to run. It was deep dusk and in a second she had got into the tall grass north of the gully. She made no sound, but Hutto must have sensed something, for he whirled and let go a blast with the shotgun. Roscoe flinched. Hutto fired the other barrel, and Jim turned and shot three times with Roscoe’s own pistol, which he had stuck in his belt.

Roscoe peered into the dusk, but there was no sign of Janey. The bandits looked too, with no better luck.

“Reckon we hit her?” Jim asked.

“Nope,” Hutto said. “She got in that tall grass.” “Well, she could be hit,” Jim said.

“I could be General Lee, only I ain’t,” Hutto remarked, looking disgusted. “Why didn’t you tie her feet?” “Why didn’t you?” Jim retorted.

“I wasn’t sitting on her,” Hutto said.

“You watch this one and I’ll go catch her,” Jim said. “I bet once I do she won’t get away for a while.” “Why, Jim, you can’t catch her,” Hutto said. “In this dark? Remember how she ambushed us? If she was a better shot we’d both be corpses, and if she’s got a rifle hid out there somewhere we may be corpses yet.” “I ain’t scared of her,” Jim said. “Dern her, I should have cracked her with a gun barrel a time or two.” “You should have shot her,” Hutto said. “I know you expected to amuse yourself, but look how it turned out. The girl got away and the deputy only had thirty dollars and some dirty underwear.” “She can’t be far,” Jim said. “Let’s camp and look for her in the morning.” “Well, you can, but I’m going,” Hutto said. “A girl that size ain’t worth tracking.” Just as he said it, a good-sized rock came flying through the air and hit him right in the mouth. He was so surprised he slipped and sat down. The rock had smashed his lips; blood poured down his chin. A second later another hit Jim in the ribs. Jim drew a pistol and fired several times in the direction the rocks came from.

“Oh, stop wasting shells,” Hutto said. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

Two more rocks came flying in, both aimed at Jim. One hit him right in the elbow, causing him to double over in pain. The other flew over his head.

Hutto seemed to think the whole thing was funny. He sat on the muddy ground, laughing and spitting great mouthfuls of blood. Jim crouched down, pistol drawn, watching for rocks.

“This beats all I ever heard of,” Hutto said. “Here we are in a rock fight with a girl no bigger than a minute, and she’s winning. If news of this gets out we’ll have to retire.” He looked at Roscoe, who was standing stock-still. One of the rocks had just missed him—he didn’t want to move and risk interfering with Janey’s aim.“By God, when I get her she’ll wish she’d kept a-running,” Jim said, cocking his gun. A second later a rock hit him on the shoulder and the gun went off. Furious, he fired into the darkness until the pistol was empty.

“Well, we’ll sure have to kill this deputy now,” Hutto remarked. He wiggled a loose tooth with a bloody finger. “If he was to tell about this, our reputation as desperados would be ruint forever.” “Then why don’t you get up and help me rush her?” Jim said angrily.

“Oh, I think we should just sit and let her chunk us to death,” Hutto said. “I think it serves us right for being idiots. You was scared of this deputy, when he ain’t no more dangerous than a chicken. Maybe next time you’ll be content to shoot when I want to shoot.” Jim opened his pistol. He was trying to reload and watch for rocks, too, squinting into the darkness. Another rock came in low and he managed to turn and take it on his thigh, but it caused him to drop three bullets.

Roscoe was beginning to feel more hopeful. He was remembering all the varmints Janey had brought into camp—probably she had used them to sharpen her aim. His hope was she’d start throwing for the head before the men got around to killing him.