The Law, at Different Elevations

Death, it seems, was always near at hand. I was certain that my own death was imminent, staring at me with flat, gray eyes and a slight smile.

“What are you doin’ out here, tin star?”

The gun in his hand didn’t waver. My hands went up, letting Leon know that I was his to command. I was tired, thirsty, hungry, and in no position to take on a man who, in stature, resembled a bear more than a man.

“Huntin’ down some men who robbed a bank. More to the point, I’m not lookin’ for you.”

Leon studied my face for a moment, and what he saw caused him to put his gun away and invite me inside his domicile.

It was a cave.

He pulled aside the buffalo hide and ushered me in, and I instantly felt a warmth that I hadn’t felt in a week. My fingers started tingling and burning as they thawed out, pinpricks of fire that I welcomed. The thick hide of the buffalo was doing an admirable job of separating domesticity from cold savagery.

Leon laid his pistol on an old tree stump he used as a table, stirred food in a pot, ladled a generous helping into a trencher, and handed it to me, along with a wooden spoon that had seen better days.

“Thanks.” I eyed Leon as I ate. He was still looking at me with eyes that gave me the jitters. Watchful, like he could read my thoughts. Maybe he could. Mountain men like Leon are rare, and his survival skills were rarer still.

“They’re goin’ up the mountain, probably through Elk Pass. Ain’t no other way to get to the other side.” Leon stuffed a massive chaw of tobacco in his right cheek and worked it into a compact ball.

“How long ago?” After tracking them for a week, I wondered if I was gaining on them. It had become a matter of pride.

“I don’t have a watch, tin star.”

I gave Leon an exasperated look. “What kind of mountain man are you? I thought you guys could look at the sun and know what time it was.”

Leon gestured to the opening of the cave. “Cloudy out there. No sun.”

“And stop calling me tin star. The name is U.S. Marshall Brett Thompson.”

“Everyone up here calls you tin star. It’s a sign of respect.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

He poked at the fire in the surprisingly well-built fireplace in the cave. Sparks flew up through a natural opening above, effectively serving as a flume. Hides of bear and elk were scattered over the spacious cave floor, giving the place a homey feel. Leon may have been a mountain man, but he understood comfort.

“They passed by the river about five hours ago.”

I looked at Leon, and not happily. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“I like you, tin star. I wanted to make conversation.”

I stared at Leon with a mixture of sadness and consternation. His life was a lonely one, a life where a little company on occasion was as welcome as a hot meal to a hungry man. And he hadn’t shot me yet. 

“I thank you for the food, but I gotta get goin’. These men killed a couple of guys whilst robbin’ the bank, and I can’t let that go. They need to be brought to justice.”

Leon smiled and leaned back against the cave wall covered with elk hide, gazing at me like I was some sort of pet.

“These men you hunt. Bad men. I know them. You stay here tonight and go back down the mountain tomorrow. Don’t hunt them or they’ll kill you.”

I glared at Leon. “It’s my job, and you damn well know it.”

“Let the mountain kill them.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but what if the mountain don’t kill ‘em?”

“Then I will.”

                                                       ______________

The morning dawned bright and cold. The wind was rising and snow was on the way, judging by the dark clouds approaching from the other side of the mountain. I stoked the fire and looked around. Leon was gone.

I made my way to the creek and broke the ice, dipping water into a pail. When I got back to the cave, Leon was there, cooking breakfast.

“I hope you like skinny trout and bear jerky.”

“I got some coffee, if you want some.”

Leon nodded, keeping his eyes on the frying trout in the skillet. Apparently, he had been fishing for breakfast while I slept.

“They’re probably through the pass now, but the storm will stop them. There’s a cabin just over the pass, and they’ll stop there and wait out the storm. It ain’t much, but it’s better than riding it out in the open. We can catch them there.”

I looked up sharply. “We?”

Leon didn’t say anything as he poked the fish. He took the skillet off the fire and served up the trout on two tin plates, handing me the larger one.

“The Old Ones tell me to protect you.”

“Who?”

“The spirits that live here. They tell me where to hunt bear and elk, where to fish.”

“You sound like an Indian.”

“They mostly tell me this from the bottom branches of trees. I have to listen carefully to hear them.”

“Definitely sound like an Indian.”

“The Old Ones are very wise, U.S. Marshall Brett Thompson.”

Mockery, from a human grizzly bear.

I sighed. “I don’t doubt it, but I’m the law. I can’t have you riskin’ your life helpin’ me.”

Leon smiled, but it was a grim smile. “Up here, you ain’t the law.”

                                                  ______________

We had traveled three miles in three hours. The trail was rough and narrow, and we were going up. At this altitude, I had to stop several times to catch my breath. Fortunately — or unfortunately — Leon made me leave most of my supplies behind. All we carried was buffalo jerky and a canteen of water, along with our guns.

“You remember when you arrested me?”

I sat on a boulder and rubbed my legs. “Yeah.”

“You let me go the next day, but you fed me well and kept me warm overnight.”

“Well, you didn’t kill your brother, and that’s a fact.”

“Everyone else thought I did.”

“Joe Brunner killed your brother and I caught him. They hung him a week later.”

Leon stood, my signal that our rest was over. “These men you’re huntin’? One of them is Joe Brunner’s brother.”

“I know. He wants to kill me, and he’s doin’ a fair job of it by making me chase him.”

Leon turned to me, eyes wide and serious. “Let the mountain take them. This storm,” he waved at the sky, “it will kill them. Let them die out there so the animals can pick their bones clean.”

I looked at Leon, a somberness overtaking me. “Is this the law up here?”

“Yes.”

We crested Elk Pass in the afternoon. The wind was howling, and snow was falling. We would need snowshoes, and I said as much.

“We don’t need them, tin star. The snow will be no more than two inches, but the temperature will drop and the wind will stay strong.

The wind was already knocking me over, so I leaned into it and continued putting one foot in front of the other. I walked in Leon’s footsteps, trusting his guidance more than mine. Despite the many coverings on me, I was chilled to the bone. Leon wore a massive buffalo coat that must have weighed thirty pounds, but he moved easily, gracefully.

Suddenly, we saw the figure of a man lying on the ground. .

Leon stopped, holding me back with an arm that resembled a tree trunk.

Leon had a stillness about him that defied simple explanation. There is not moving and there is stillness. It was as if he blended into the landscape, becoming part of it, a statue that didn’t belong anywhere but here, odd as that seemed.

Leon let out a breath and walked forward, quickly and decisively. I was more careful, for the man might have a gun.

The man did have a gun, but it would do him no good.

He was dead.

                                                     ______________

“Lonny Cates. Dumb son-of-a-bitch, and mean as hell.”

Leon inspected the body. “Been dead about two hours. Looks like one of Hal Sackett’s bear traps got ‘em.”

I noted the steel clamps encircling the dead man’s right leg. His face was frozen in pain and terror. “That’s a hard death.”

“These men left him. Didn’t even bother to put a bullet in his head or cut his throat.”

I stood up and brushed the snow from my knees. “That leaves two. The odds are better.”

We continued through the pass, battling the wind. The gusts were terrifically strong, but Leon never lost his balance like I did. I was a big man, but Leon seemed as big as the mountain we had just crested. Or, he was as much a part of it as anything. I thought about that as we walked, not knowing if I would ever come up with a decent answer.

“Where the hell is this cabin you talked about? You said it was just over the pass.” We had been traveling for over two hours since we crossed to the other side of the mountain, and all I saw were bare trees, boulders and rocks rubbed raw by the winds, and an ominous, buttermilk sky.

“Just another couple of miles. Close.”

Leon’s definition of close was far different than mine.

“They may not even be there,” I complained.

“I smell the smoke from the fireplace.”

I sniffed, then sniffed again, the cold wind burning my nostrils. “I don’t smell nothin’.”

Leon said nothing but kept on walking at a pace that wore me out. We had to stop again so I could rest. My lungs were drawing in great draughts of air, but it still wasn’t enough. The thin air was testing me mightily.

“You ever killed anyone?” I instantly regretted the question, but I couldn’t take it back. I wondered what made me ask it, and all I could think was that the thin air made me woozy.

Leon didn’t say anything for five minutes, so I figured he wouldn’t answer.

“During the war. Killed a few grays. Didn’t cotton to killin’ men I didn’t have a grudge against, so I left.”

I nodded, though he was ahead of me and couldn’t see it. I understood the feeling. Killing in war was a dirty business, and it left a man shaken.

“I killed Hal Sackett, too.”

                                                    ______________

As Leon predicted, the cabin was occupied. Smoke came from the chimney, and someone had lit a few candles inside. Not very smart for men on the run.

“I don’t think they know I’m trackin’ them.”

“Probably not, tin star. You were so far back, they didn’t worry.”

I glared at Leon, but the darkness prevented him from seeing my displeasure at the remark. “They was travelin’ fast.”

“No, they were not.” Leon spat tobacco juice out the side of his mouth and continued his vigil.

“Okay, I gotta ask. Why did you kill Hal Sackett?” 

Leon turned his head to look at me. He was grinning. “You gonna take me in? You’ll never make it.”

I shook my head. “No. I should, but no.”

“He set bear traps. I told him to stop. He didn’t. Dangerous business, bear traps.”

“That don’t mean he should be kilt for it.”

Leon went back to staring at the cabin. The night was dark, and the cold was getting deeper into my bones.

“He started settin’ the damn things by my place, hopin’ to catch me.”

I thought about what Leon had said. “Maybe he did deserve to die. Still, what you did was against the law.”

Leon turned to me, his voice sharp. “I already told you, tin star. You ain’t the law up here.”

“You kill anyone else?”

Leon thought for a moment.

“Yeah, but I don’t know their names.”

                                                         ______________

The sun hadn’t yet risen, but its cold, orange glow could be seen below. My body ached from sleeping on the frozen ground, and the wind had increased to a howl. Leon was already up, watching the cabin.

“They know we’re here,” he said.

I yawned and stretched. “How in hell could they know that? We snuck up on ‘em right smart.”

Leon looked at me, shaking his head. “You made enough noise to wake up a hibernating bear.”

That remark stung. “I was damn near as quiet as a snowflake.”

Leon said nothing.

“Damn wind. Can’t see nothin’ while it blows like this.”

Leon turned to me, taking his eyes off the cabin for a moment. “It will stop in an hour, maybe less.”

“The Old Ones tell you that?”

“No.”

There was no more to be got out of him, so I settled back, trying to think of a way to get to the bank robbers/murderers. “We could burn ‘em out,” I offered.

Leon stared at me in surprise. “And burn down half the mountain? I’d stick a knife in you first.”

“I’m a lawman. You can’t go around killin’ lawmen.”

“I can if they do something damn foolish.”

We sat in silence. Leon’s words rattled me, for I knew he would do as he said. I was starting to get a sense of the law up here.

Two shots rang out, the bullets spraying us with rock chips. My eyes, wide open in surprise, stared at Leon. He shook his head. “Sharps buffalo guns. Both of ‘em got one.”

A volley of bullets chipped at the boulder we were behind.

“Henry repeating rifles. Those boys are serious.” Leon said this matter-of-factly, like he was reciting a weather report.

The day wore on. As Leon predicted, the wind had stopped, and we could hear the miscreants talking inside.

“I see you got some help.” Cody Brunner, Joe’s brother, yelled from a window. This was followed by another dozen rounds aimed our way.

“Come on out. You ain’t got no place to go, Cody.” I used my official U.S. Marshall voice. Cody and his partner answered with more shots.

“Let ‘em keep shootin’. They’ll run out of ammunition sooner or later.” Leon was right, but how would we know when that happened?

We spent another night behind the boulder. The temperature dropped to the point where the water in the canteens would freeze. Leon kept his canteen near his body, so I did the same.

Right before dawn is when we made our move. Leon lead the way and took a bullet, but kept going. He kicked open the door and got two more bullets for his trouble. I had my Colt revolver out and blasted away, hitting both men twice each. They stumbled to the floor and died without so much as a sound.

Leon was in bad shape. Too bad to save. I made him comfortable and sat with him while he faded away.

“I’ll be with the Old Ones soon, tin star.”

“I’m right sorry, Leon. I reckon you kept me alive by takin’ all those bullets.”

“The Old Ones told me this was my last trip.”

I put one of my blankets over him, despite the chill that instantly invaded my body.

“I’ll speak to you then, tin star. Listen for me.”

I snorted. “I don’t want no damn ghost a hauntin’ me, thank you very much.” I grinned at him.

“You gonna leave me here?” Leon’s voice was weak, and I almost didn’t hear him.

I leaned down to his ear. “No.”

Leon smiled a final smile and closed his eyes.

                                                      ______________

My badge has five points on it, with the U.S. emblem in the middle. I cut off three of the points and bent the other two up a little so they would look like wings. I tacked this on to the cross I made for the man.

I spent another night in Leon’s cave, thinking about the events of the past few days. Not much of it made sense, but then again, the death of a decent man rarely made sense.

Before making my way down the mountain, I stood by Leon’s grave, wondering where he was right now. He said he’d be with the Old Ones, and I hoped he was. Speaking to people from the trees seemed like something he would enjoy.

“If you ever decide to talk to me from those tree branches you kept yammerin’ about, at least tell me somethin’ useful.”

I looked around, feeling foolish talking to a man who was under the dirt. I bent down and cleared a few leaves off of his grave.

“I wish I had known you better, my friend. Sorry to see you go.”

I walked away, a few tears in my eyes and a heart full of misgivings about how life came and went. Even the leaves were dying by the thousands, scattered and scattering around me, little drops of lifelessness where, just a few minutes earlier, there had been life.

Death, it seems, is always near at hand.