Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Let’s wait awhile,” Call said. “When they’re good and drunk we’ll come along the creek bed and surprise ’em.” Augustus watched for a few minutes. “I hope Jake makes a fight,” he said.

“He can’t fight, and you know it,” Call said.

“The point is, I’d rather shoot him than hang him,” Augustus said.

“I wouldn’t relish hanging him,” Call said. “But there he is.” He walked back and explained the situation to Pea Eye and Newt. There was nothing they need do except bring the horses fast when they heard shooting.

“Jake with them?” Pea Eye asked.

“He’s there,” Call said. “It’s a bad situation, but he put himself in it.” They waited until late afternoon, when the sun was angling down toward the horizon. Then, walking a wide circle to the east, they struck the creek a mile below where the men were camped and walked quietly up the creek bed. The banks were high and made a perfect shelter. They saw three horses watering at the creek, and Call feared the animals wouldgive them away, but the horses were not alarmed.

Soon they heard the faint talk of the men—they were still lounging on their saddle blankets.

Call, in the lead, crept a little closer.

“Let’s stay the night,” he heard a man say. “I’m too full of liquor to be chousing horses in the dark.” “It’ll sober you up,” another voice said. “It’s cooler traveling at night.” “Why travel?” the first man said. “Some more wagons might come along and we could rob ’em. It’s easier than banks.” “Eddie, you’re as lazy as Jake,” the second voice said. “Neither one of you pulls your weight in this outfit.” “I’d have to be quick to beat you at killing people, Dan.’ little Eddie said.

Call and Augustus looked at one another. Dan Suggs was the name Wilbarger had mentioned—he had called his killers accurately.

Jake was lying on his saddle blanket feeling drunk and depressed. Dan Suggs had shot the old man driving the wagon at a hundred yards’ distance, without even speaking to him. Dan had been hiding in the trees along the creek, so the old man died without even suspecting that he was in danger. He only had about thirty dollars on him, but he had four jugs of whiskey, and they were divided equally, although Dan claimed he ought to have two for doing the shooting. Jake had been drinking steadily, hoping he would get so drunk the Suggses would just go off and leave him. But he knew they wouldn’t. For one thing, he had eight hundred dollars on him, won in poker games in Fort Worth, and if Dan Suggs didn’t know it, he certainly suspected it. They wouldn’t leave him without robbing him, or rob him without killing him, so for the time being his hope was to ride along and not rile Dan.

He had been lying flat down, for he felt very weary, but he raised up on his elbow to take another swig from the jug, and he and little Eddie saw the three men at the same moment: three men with leveled rifles, standing on the riverbank with the sun at a blinding angle right behind them. Jake had taken off his gun belt—he couldn’t rest comfortably with it on.

Little Eddie had his pistol on and grabbed for it, but a rifle cracked and a bullet took him in the shoulder and kicked him back off the saddle blanket.

Dan and Roy Suggs were sitting with their backs to the creek, each with a jug between their legs. They were caught cold, their rifles propped on their saddles well out of reach.

“Sit still, boys,” Call said, as soon as the crack of the shot died. Deets, who had the best angle, had shot little Eddie.

Dan Suggs leaped to his feet and turned to see the bright sun glinting on three rifle barrels.

“Who are you?” he asked. “We’re horse traders, so hold your damn fire.” He realized it would be suicide to draw and decided a bluff was his best chance, though the shock, plus the whiskey he had just drunk, made him unsteady for a moment. It was a moment too long, for a black man with a rifle stepped behind him and lifted his pistol. Roy Suggs was sitting where he was, his mouth open, too surprised even to move. Little Eddie lay flat on his back, stunned by his shoulder wound.

Augustus took little Eddie’s pistol as he stepped over him, and in a moment had Roy’s. Deets got the rifles. Call kept his gun trained right on Dan Suggs, who, because of the sun, still could not see clearly whom he faced.

Deets, with a downcast look, picked up Jake’s gun belt.

“Why, Deets, do you think I’d shoot you?” Jake asked, though he knew too well where he stood, and if he had moved quicker would have shot, whatever the cost. A clean bullet was better than a scratchy rope, and his old partners could shoot clean when they wanted to.

Deets, without answering, removed the rifle from Jake’s saddle scabbard.

“Get your boots off, boys,” Call said, coming closer.

“Goddamned if we will,” Dan Suggs said, his anger rising. “Didn’t you hear me? I told you we were horse traders.” “We’re more persuaded by that dead fellow over there,” Augustus said. “He says you’re murderers. And Mr. Wilbarger’s good horses says you’re horsethieves to boot.” “Hell, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dan Suggs said. He was genuinely furious at having been taken without a shot, and he used his anger to try and carry the bluff.

“I bought these horses from Wilbarger,” he said. “I gave him thirty dollars apiece.” “You’re a black liar,” Augustus said calmly. “Take off your boots, like Captain Call said. It’s time to collect the boot guns.” Dan Suggs stood quivering, for it galled him to be caught and galled him more to be coolly given orders, even if it was Augustus McCrae who was giving them. Besides, he had a derringer in his right boot, and knew it was his last hope. One of his brothers was shot and the other too drunk and too stunned to take in what was happening.“I’ll be damned if I’ll go barefoot for you or any man,” Dan said.

Augustus drew his big dragoon Colt and jammed the barrel into Dan’s stomach.