Stand-off at Copper Town Read online

  ‘I reckon we should get there tomorrow,’ he said.

  Jeff moved round the camp-fire to peer at the map.

  ‘Where are we?’ he asked, craning his neck.

  As usual Patrick flinched away to keep the map out of sight. Despite their agreement, he viewed the specifics of his hard-earned information as being secret.

  Questions about what problems they might encounter on the way and what they would find when they got there were always met with silence or an unsubtle change of subject.

  ‘You can trust us,’ Nathan said, smiling.

  Patrick considered the smile and then cast a shamefaced look at each man in turn.

  ‘I’m sorry, but everybody I’ve met has tried to find out what I know, usually using the same way as those two men back in Snake Pass, but I should accept that you two are different.’

  Nathan nodded. ‘We’re not going to kill you or abandon you out here. We’ll do nothing but take our share.’

  Patrick looked at them guardedly. ‘You don’t mind getting the smaller share?’

  Nathan could see that this issue was important to him and that this was why he had yet to trust them completely. So he took a while to reply and then lowered his voice to an honest tone.

  ‘We accepted your deal. You take half of whatever we find and we share the other half.’ He spread his hands. ‘It’s a more than fair deal when you have all the information and a fair claim to it all, and we have only our hands to help you dig it out.’

  ‘It is, but gold does strange things to a man. You may say that now, but once you can touch it, feel it, smell it, taste it. . . .’ Patrick licked his lips with a look that said in his prospecting days he hadn’t been immune to duplicitous thoughts himself.

  ‘Not us. So you can stop looking for deception here and concentrate on looking for trouble coming from elsewhere.’

  Patrick considered. Then, with a slap of his thighs, he spread the map out on the ground and beckoned them to sit around him.

  ‘We’re moving beside this ridge,’ he said, jabbing a finger against the center of the map and then moving it upwards. ‘We’re heading here.’

  As Nathan knew nothing about the area, he orientated himself by locating Snake Pass in the bottom corner of the map. Jeff gestured at the area ahead.

  ‘Isn’t Copper Town out here somewhere?’ he asked.

  Patrick shrugged. ‘I’ve not heard of it.’

  ‘I don’t know much about it either, but I’d heard they’d built a railroad up to it from Ash Creek.’ He pointed at the small town in the bottom left-hand corner.

  Patrick hurriedly rolled up the map and slipped it away.

  ‘You’re wrong. This is wild country. We’re the only people within a hundred miles of this spot.’

  ‘You’re right that we haven’t seen anybody since leaving Snake Pass, but that’s an old map,’ Nathan said. ‘Things might have changed.’

  Patrick pouted and stomped away to his blanket. He dragged it up to his neck and rolled over to face away from them showing they wouldn’t get any more answers out of him that night.

  Nathan had no reason not to believe him, but the next day he started to wonder. He’d become used to the sounds around them: the clop of hoofs on the gritty ground, the creaking and jangling of Patrick’s equipment, the occasional distant animal or bird noise.

  As the day wore on he briefly heard other noises: a hum and distant susurration that was almost too low to hear, but which suggested people were about. The three men frequently glanced at each other and then at the landscape searching for the source of the noise, but it remained distant and undefined.

  In mid-afternoon they crossed a river, providing a possible reason for the noise. Buffaloberry and aspen bordered the river, the pleasant locale encouraging them to dally for a while, but when they moved on the low sounds grew in volume.

  Gradually they moved to higher ground on the ridge and from what he could remember about the map, Nathan identified a massive rocky outcrop as their destination.

  They negotiated a snaking path up the ridge and when they emerged before the main bulk of rock they found signs of industrial activity. The side of the outcrop had been blasted and chipped away to create a sheer stretch of rock with a flat area at the bottom.

  To their left this area continued down a slight incline around the side of the outcrop until it disappeared from view. In the other direction the flattened area ended abruptly two hundred and fifty yards away.

  ‘This wasn’t here the last time,’ Patrick said, eyeing the flat ground with contempt. ‘Someone must have done some work here after I left.’

  ‘A long time after you left,’ Nathan said, leaning from the saddle to peer at the ground. ‘The rocks are sharp and unweathered. This is recent work.’

  As if to prove his point the low background noise peaked, giving him the impression of raised voices; they sounded as if they were coming from ahead.

  The group cast bemused glances at each other and then moved over the flattened area. At the base of the outcrop they dismounted and searched for the best place to climb.

  They had to head to the end of the flat area to find a spot where the route upwards was climbable. Even then they had to clamber up 200 feet of rock on hands and feet to traverse the lowest point of the ridge.

  The closer they got to the summit, the louder the background noise became.

  There were voices along with the clang of metal on metal punctuated by the rumble of earth moving. With increasing trepidation they closed in on the summit and when the view beyond came into sight they stared down in wonderment.

  A small town was below; hundreds of men were demolishing the outcrop; numerous tunnels had been bored into the ground and around them a steady stream of men and burros were moving back and forth.

  Rocks were being carried out of the tunnels while a production process ground them down before carrying them on to buildings for smelting. To their side they could see that the flattened area had been created to house railroad tracks that made their way up towards them before stopping beside the town.

  ‘What in tarnation is this?’ Patrick said unhappily.

  ‘I reckon this is Copper Town,’ Jeff said.

  * * *

  ‘What are you people doing here?’

  The question had come from a man who was somewhat cleaner than most of the workers, so Nathan presumed he was in authority.

  Nathan and Jeff moved back to let Patrick speak, but before he did he cast another forlorn look over the area, taking in the numerous mine workings that must surely have wiped out the landscape with which he was familiar.

  For a moment his gaze alighted on a high point on the outcrop. A small smile appeared.

  ‘We’re looking for work,’ he said.

  ‘We recruit in Ash Creek. Nobody comes here looking for work. In fact I’ve never seen nobody coming out here looking for anything.’ He glanced at Patrick’s horse and chuckled. ‘Except for a few idiots who’d heard about the old mine workings and believed those damn-fool stories about the gold here.’

  The overseer licked his lips in anticipation of getting more amusement out of Patrick’s response, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

  ‘Do you have work, or not?’

  The overseer sighed. Then, with his hands on his hips, he looked them over.

  ‘I am short of a few men right now. With water being more precious here than the gold people used to come looking for, I need an extra water detail.’

  He pointed, signifying a wagon laden down with barrels and then a route over the railtracks that led back the way they had come to the nearby river.

  They thanked him and moved over to the wagon. Only when they were out of earshot did Nathan ask the question that he was sure was also on Jeff’s mind.

  ‘We didn’t come here looking for work,’ he said. ‘So why are we now working on a water detail?’

  Patrick winked and then jerked his head towards a high point on the outcrop.

&n
bsp; ‘Don’t let anyone see you looking that way, but I’ve seen the place where I was the last time.’ Patrick chuckled. ‘They haven’t ruined that area yet. The tunnel with the gold nugget in it is still here.’

  Chapter Three

  There was only enough time before sundown for one journey down to the river. This was fine with Nathan as they’d had a long and irritating day.

  When they returned to the mine the overseer who had employed them, Sherman Clarke, directed them to one of the large communal tents where they could sleep. He’d found someone to take care of their horses, but his sly smile as they were led away didn’t give Nathan any confidence that he would see them again.

  Patrick ignored his concern. He had been getting more animated as the afternoon wore on and he got closer to completing his quest.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ Jeff asked when they’d collected their meal from the chuck wagon.

  ‘We wait until dark,’ Patrick said while glancing around to check nobody was paying them undue attention. ‘Then we go for a walk and see what’s here.’

  They said nothing more on the matter and instead gravitated towards the workers and exchanged pleasantries. The tiredness and strain was clear in the miners’ eyes, but everyone was prepared to pass on the rules of Copper Town.

  You worked hard, did what you were told, and that earned you a few hours of freedom to enjoy yourself in Copper Town. That enjoyment involved gambling, rough liquor, and even rougher women.

  Although Marshal Lawton confiscated weapons that were brought within the town limits, fights and even killings were common, but they welcomed the news. It meant everyone would be too pre-occupied to notice what they got up to.

  They still mingled in with the main bulk of men heading to town, but they stopped on the outskirts of the area of clapboard buildings and small tents. They waited until nobody was left to follow them and then veered away.

  At a slow pace while engaged in animated conversation that gave the impression they had nothing to hide, they headed to the railroad tracks. They stopped and sat on a boulder and then looked beyond the tracks towards the distant river, making it look as if they were whiling away their time aimlessly.

  After a half-hour nobody had come close. So, by the light of the low moon and the fires lit around the outskirts of town, they headed past the end of the tracks to the place where they’d first seen the town.

  They climbed. Patrick took the lead, clambering over rocks towards his goal with an assurance that gave Nathan confidence that he remembered the area.

  They didn’t speak as the area gradually opened up below and let them see the full extent of the workings; clearly the mine had been spreading for some time. For hundreds of yards beyond the town the ground was pitted and devastated, but closer to the area hadn’t been worked on so much.

  ‘They’re working uphill and gradually coming this way,’ Patrick said, gesturing at the tracks.

  ‘Then we got here just in time,’ Nathan said. ‘In another few weeks, perhaps even days, they’ll reach your tunnel.’

  Patrick nodded and then bade them to be silent and concentrate on their own safety as they traversed the last section. After ten minutes of climbing, they came out on the highest summit of the ridge.

  From here they could see that the ridge followed a sweeping curve, which ultimately swung round to join the outcrop on both sides. Effectively this created a cauldron-shaped hollow before the outcrop.

  Behind them was the town and ahead was the outcrop. To the right the ridge was thin and crumbling. To the left the ridge lowered into a gully that was filled with rocks, perhaps from a recent landslide.

  On all sides the terrain was so steep the moonlight couldn’t penetrate into the darkness below.

  Patrick pointed out their destination on the outcrop as being a high point with several indentations, these presumably being old tunnels that had collapsed.

  With the ridge close to the outcrop appearing treacherous, they set off into the blackness of the cauldron, but while the upper half of his body was still in the light, Nathan stood on a rock that slipped away. He had an uncomfortable moment where he panicked and waved his arms feeling as if he would go tumbling.

  His foot landed on solid ground further down the slope and he fetched up with a lurch. Adding to his discomfort the rock then landed at the bottom with a dull thud, having made no sound on its way down.

  Jeff grabbed his arm righting him, but his motion dragged them both forward and the two men teetered until they found their equilibrium.

  They stood awkwardly until Nathan sat down to rest and flex his ankle. It was fine, but when he looked up Patrick was shaking his head.

  ‘You two aren’t used to clambering over rocks,’ he said. ‘Stay here and watch for anyone approaching. I’ll head to the outcrop alone.’

  Without complaint, Nathan and Jeff stood back to let him leave. Then, as he disappeared into the darkness, they settled down to await news.

  Jeff looked towards the town while Nathan faced the outcrop. He peered at the indentations, wondering which one interested Patrick. They all looked the same to him and Patrick had given them no clues.

  Thirty minutes passed with the only sounds being the swell of noise coming from Copper Town as the miners enjoyed themselves after a long day, and the clang of metal in the smelting sheds that never stopped working.

  Both men were becoming restless when Patrick finally appeared from out of the darkness and worked his way up the slope. He clambered past the first row of collapsed tunnels and was fifty feet below the end one in the second row when Jeff nudged him.

  ‘Trouble,’ he whispered.

  Nathan turned. Below a line of five riders was making its way from the town along the railroad tracks.

  As Nathan and Jeff were hiding in the shadows they wouldn’t be able to see them up on the ridge, but they were steering a course directly towards them. Nathan glanced at the riders and then at Patrick who was still climbing slowly.

  ‘If they are coming up here, it’ll take them a while to get up the ridge,’ he said. ‘Patrick should be finished by then.’

  ‘Hopefully, but I reckon we should still warn him.’

  Jeff hefted a small stone and then moved over to the other side of the ridge where he launched it towards Patrick. The stone disappeared quietly into the blackness, so Nathan joined him in throwing.

  The distance proved to be too great for them to reach Patrick and all the stones fell into the inky blackness and made no discernible sound, but Patrick must have heard a noise as he flinched. He looked down and then up towards them.

  While keeping below the top of the ridge, they waved frantically and pointed towards town. Patrick acknowledged them with a wave and so Jeff raised a hand and then pointed at his fingers signifying that five riders were coming.

  Patrick provided a non-committed shrug, suggesting he didn’t know what he meant. Then he waved a dismissive hand at them and moved up the slope, but he clambered with a greater sense of urgency.

  Nathan and Jeff did the only thing they could do and kept track of his progress and of the men below.

  When the riders reached a point below them they stopped and talked amongst themselves. Their urgent tones traveled up to them on the night air, but no words were intelligible.

  Nathan recognized Sherman Clarke, the overseer, amongst the group. The others nodded attentively while he gestured at the ridge.

  Once he’d given his orders, the other four men climbed, using broadly the same route as Nathan and the others had taken earlier.

  ‘This is looking bad,’ Jeff said when it became obvious they wouldn’t veer away and were climbing towards their position.

  Nathan nodded. Despite their attempts to be stealthy, it appeared that they had been seen and these men had come to investigate.

  He looked over his shoulder, but to his irritation Patrick had disappeared from view, presumably into the tunnel he’d been climbing towards.

  ‘The moment Patrick c
omes out, he has to find somewhere to hide,’ he said. ‘But we can’t hang around to make sure he does. We need to move now.’

  Jeff grunted that he agreed and so without further debate they picked their way along the summit. They resisted the urge to check on the climbing men’s progress as they traversed a rocky path that would take them about fifty yards away from Sherman.

  Nathan was wondering whether Patrick would be better served staying hidden when to his relief he emerged from the end tunnel. He walked stiffly, looking towards the ridge opposite, but not at the position where they’d been before.

  Nathan and Jeff stopped and grabbed a handful of stones, but before they could throw them and gather his attention, Nathan saw the reason why he wasn’t looking for them.

  Two other men were edging out of the tunnel behind him, and both had guns trained on his back.

  Chapter Four

  ‘We’ll never get through all these people,’ Jeff said.

  ‘Why are they here?’ Nathan said. ‘Surely nobody will be interested in what Patrick was doing last night.’

  ‘Perhaps something else happened later. In a town like this, I’m sure the jailhouse is always full of rowdy drunks and fighters.’

  Nathan nodded. Then they started working their way through the press of people.

  The night before, after seeing that they couldn’t help Patrick, they’d made the sensible decision to hide in the shadows until he had been led away. Then, while Sherman’s group were moving round the ridge to collect him, they’d taken a roundabout route down to the railroad tracks and then to their tent where they’d listened out for news.

  They’d heard nothing until first light when the first shift had stirred, but instead of starting work everyone had gravitate towards town. Jeff and Nathan had joined them and found they were congregating outside the building that served as the marshal’s office and jailhouse.

  They mingled, hoping to hear what the trouble was, and got their answer when they saw Sherman making his way through the throng. They avoided looking at him, but he headed straight for them.