SPOON VALLEY
ALONG THE SANTA FE TRAIL
by
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“I
wonder where the gold mine is.”
“I
don’t know, but there is a well used trail going back towards thet cliff there. I can just make it out.”
“How
are we gonna take keer of
all six?”
“I
ain’t shore. We gotta have
a plan. I shore would hate to go back to Portola an
get our bunch. We’d have to share the gold with ‘em.”
The
Swensons climbed back down and walked up to the wash
to get their horses. They rode off the
trail and into some grass.
“We’ll
hide our tracks and go off up yonder an camp. We’ll
think this thing out. Only us two, yu know?”
They
made camp up
over the next ridge and down in a narrow ravine. The little creek was flowing
from the north and there was enough grass sticking up through the patches of
snow for the two horses.
“We
won’t build no fire. We’ll just eat some hard crackers
and cheese fer now. Maybe we’ll make a small cookin’ fire in the mornin’ after
sunup.”
“Ja. I’ll get the whiskey. We kin have somthin’
to drink with the cheese an crackers.”
They
ate and drank in silence. Rolf got his bedroll and lay down on it.
Olaf was
thinking.
“Why
don’t we split up. We kin go through the openin’ and yu kin go on one side
of the barn and I’ll get on this side, between it and the main cabin. Yu kin
get set so yu kin see me an
when I motion, we’ll fire into them. I figure we kin kill all four of the men
and them two flickas won’t be no trouble a’tall.”
“Ja! Sounds good. Let’s get some
sleep.”
They
passed the bottle around until both were sleepy.
The
next morning found them coming groggily awake. Olaf pulled
on his boots and got out the telescope and his rifle. He slipped over by one of
the large boulders and looked down into the spoon-shaped valley. Two men were
already up and working with the roof rafters and stringers.
Olaf
rested his old rifle on an opening between two rocks and sighted down towards
the barn.
“It’s
a ways down there, but I reckon it would carry thet fer, but wouldn’t do no good. We’d
give ourselves away. Better to go down on foot an git closer.”
They
finished off the last bottle of Karl’s whiskey.
They
both walked towards the trail and slowly slipped between the two big rocks at
the opening.
There
was no wind.
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About the Book
This
novel takes a snapshot of the decade just after the Civil War and describes the
experiences of early pioneers in settling new lands in the eastern part of the
Southwest ... and the hardships encountered.
The old trapper Sam Baynes
is in a race with death. His days are numbered but he's determined to reach
About the Author
F.
Eugene Barber has written several short stories and this is his second novel.
He has an AS, a BA, and an MBA. He was born on a farm in the
During
the Korean War he served in the Air Force and upon discharge, worked in the Aerospace industry
for most of his adult life. He spent many weekends traipsing around the western
mountains and deserts with his wife, two daughters, and the family dog.
Mr.
Barber has worked and traveled all over the world, including Africa and the
Outback of Australia, and when in conversation, tends to compare his own
ancestors’ hardships, in settling the West, with the struggles to explore and
populate those two faraway continents.
His
knowledge of early emigrant movements from the more settled parts of the