Rusty Sage

Chapter One

Returning Home To Texas:

I was still in my tattered grey uniform of the Texas Volunteers, as I rode into the town of Buckhorn Texas, on July 16, 1865, after the War Between the States ended on June 2, 1865. The War had intervened in my life, for after I had graduated from West Point as a Second Lieuteant, and due to the War, I resigned my commission to fight with the Texas Volunteers, as a Captain.

The town looked the same as when I left for West Point those many years ago. The Ox Bow Saloon with its old weather worn sign, John Evans Bank, Harrys’ Feed and Fuel, Jones Dry Goods store and the sad looking water tower at the end of Main Street with the large oak tree. The buildings all looked older and weather worn but it was good to be back home.

I was looking for my old family friend Josh Franklin, who was also our family Lawyer, when I stopped before a one story wooden building that a small sign on the front, which read,

Josh Franklin Attorney at Law.

I swung down from the saddle, and tied my horse Longfellow to the hitching rail that was in front of the building. I slowly walked toward the office door, trying to take the kinks out of my tired back after my long ride from Tennessee. I went into Josh’s office; I noticed Josh now had a receptionist, who was a good-looking blond, sitting behind an old wooden desk. I thought to myself, Josh has come up in the world, I wonder what his wife thinks about having this good-looking women around the office all the time, when she looked up at me and said,

May I help you Captain?

Yes, I would like to see my old friend Mr. Franklin.

Do you have an appointment to see Mr. Franklin?

No, but I am an old friend returning from the War.

Then I heard from behind the wall of his office.

Who is the old friend Jenny?

I replied,

Rusty Sage Josh!

Oh my God, we all thought you were killed in the War, as this tall six foot, two hundred and fifty-pound man, with a head of wavy grey hair, walked through his office door.

No Josh, I am still vertical, just a little more wear and tear on the body!

Josh then walk up to me, and threw his large arms around me almost crushing me with a welcoming bear hug.

My God Rusty, you’re a sight for sore eyes, come on in the office we have much to discuss.

We walked into his office, with Josh beside me, and I said,

Josh, the first thing I did on my way home was to go by the ranch. There is nothing left! The house and barns are burned to the ground, all the corral fences are broken down, and no cattle to be seen anywhere! Rusty calm down and I’ll tell you what happen while you were gone.

I sat down in a brown cowhide leather chair in front of his desk, and looked around his office. The office looked sparse, bare wooden walls with a few pictures of the area, and a wooden filing cabinet.

So what’s the story Josh?

It’s not a good one; about two years after the War started, the ranch was raided by renegades from the Oklahoma Territory. All of your family were killed, your two younger brothers, your sister, plus your mom and dad. They looted the place, drove off all the cattle they could find, and left the area. To make matters worse, when they left, they set fire to the whole place.

My God Josh that’s horrible! What a fate for my family. Why wasn’t in informed?

Rusty, no one knew where to locate you, and then the telegram saying you were missing in action and presumed dead.

Well you can see that was wrong. I was wounded, and sent to a hospital, so maybe wires were crossed. What about the land, do I still own the twenty thousand acres?

The land has been seized by the county for three years a back taxes and is trying to sell the acreage. I have filed a lawsuit against the county and the suit is currently holding up the sale. The suit most likely will fail unless you can come up with the ten thousand dollars to pay the taxes.

Ten thousand dollars, that’s insane Josh, we never paid those kinds of taxes.

When the war started Rusty, a fifty cent an acre tax was imposed on all the ranches and since your ranch was wiped out that tax was never paid.

Josh, I haven’t ten thousand dollars; I think I have about five dollars to my name, I am broke!

Rusty, I was able to with draw hundred dollars out of your Dad’s account, before it was frozen by the authorities, which I will give to you before you leave. If the land ends up being sold, the proceeds over the ten thousand will be yours, plus the five thousand your Dad had in the bank.

I don’t want the land Josh, let them sell it, and if there is any money left that’s mine let me know.

Where will I contact you?

Well Josh, I don’t know at this time. I was planning to resume my ranching activities when I came home, but now with the ranch gone, I’ll have to figure something new out. Once I get settled I’ll let you know.

Where do you think you will be going?

I understand there are no ranching jobs around here, so I think I will head north to Nevada, Idaho, maybe California. I understand that Nevada became a state during the war on October 31, 1864, there is a lot of silver mining, and cattle ranching located in the north of the state. Since you say I have a hundred dollars coming; I will spend a couple of days resting up here along with my horse, buy some clothes, a new gun belt, a Colt 44 revolver, and one of those new Winchester lever action rifles.

Rusty you may stay at my house; we have an extra room, and Alice will be delighted to see you?

Josh that would be just great and maybe some good home cooking?

Sure thing, Alice would love to cook for you!

I left Josh’s office with my Dad’s hundred dollars, the most money I have had in my pocket in a long time, and walked over to the Ox-Bow Saloon for a beer and some much-needed food.

I spent the next five days outfitting myself with provisions, clothes, a packhorse, and firearms for my journey to the north. So on the sixthday of my stay in Buckhorn Texas, I said my good byes to Alice andJosh, and rode out of Buckhorn Texas heading north seeking a new life!"

Chapter Two:

New Country:

Early on a crisp cold Friday morning, with clear blue skies and bright sunlight, I rode my Buckskin Horse Longfellow into the gold mining town of Mammoth City, which is located in California near the Nevada border.

As I rode up the dusty dirt street into town, I thought about my mother and what she must have gone through during the raid on the ranch. She named me Rusty twenty-six years ago, due to my flaming red hair. I grew up in Texas working on my folk’s cattle ranch and obtained broad shoulders a slim waist, and I am a tired Veteran of the Civil War.

I had left the town of Hawthorn Nevada, which is near the California border, four days ago, after not being able to find work, almost broke, and headed for California looking for a job on a cattle ranch.

I had been playing poker at the Dirty Drop Saloon in Hawthorn, when I heard there might be riding job available at the Rocking Horse Ranch in Long Valley California, which was located north of the cow town of River Bend.

Luckily, when I left the Dirty Drop Saloon hours later, I still had a few bucks left in my pocket for the trip over the White Mountains’ on my way to the gold mining town of Mammoth City, which is thirty miles north of Long Valley.

It was a long cold ride from Hawthorne, through the towering canyon passes, still covered in snow even at this late date in the year into Mammoth City.

When finally, I rode up that dusty main street of Mammoth, I stopped in front of a restaurant named the Stove. I stepped down out of the saddle from of my horse Longfellow, a brown and white Buckskin, tied his reins to the hitching rail in front of the Stove, and walked in the door looking for a much-needed meal.

The café was small, but neat and clean and the tables were covered with white and red-checkered tablecloths, very unusual in area such as Mammoth.

The place was empty, so I sat at one of the tables located in the rear of the restaurant in the corner, so I could observe anyone entering the restaurant; a matter of habit I guess.

In a few minutes a young blond, good-looking woman, about five foot six with sparkling blue eyes appeared through a door from kitchen, wearing a white dress, with a red and white checkered apron around her slim waist; walked up to my table, and said,

Good morning Cowboy, what will you have for breakfast?

What are the chances of lots of hot coffee, four fried eggs and beef steak?

I would say the chances are very good today.

Great, bring on the coffee soon as possible, I am freezing from the weather outside.

I just made coffee, so it will be nice and fresh!

She turned away from the table, and walked back into the kitchen where she gave my order to a grey headed man, who looked about fifty years or so. I wondered how he fit into the picture here, with all the gold mining going on in the area.

I had heard in Hawthorn, the town of Mammoth City is located in a valley at an altitude of 7000 feet surrounded by mountains towering to 12,000 feet plus, with Mt. Baldwin at 12,614, and Bloody Mt. at 12,544 the two tallest in the range. I understood these peaks are general snowcapped most of the time throughout the year.

I had arrived in the area at the right time of the year, late July, since the winters here were very cold and long with heavy snowfall almost daily. Not much went on in the winter in Mammoth City, other than drinking, whoring, and gambling in the various saloons in town due to this daily heavy snowfall. I thought to myself, this would not be the place for cattle during the wintertime, so this place called Long Valley must be at a lower altitude for year around cattle work.

The nice looking woman appeared once again, only this time she had a pot of steaming coffee and a large white cup and walked up to my table.

Here is the coffee you ordered, very hot so be careful when you drink it.

Thanks, by the way my name is Rusty and yours?

I am Mary, nice to meet you, looking for a mining job?

No, I am headed for the Rocking Horse Ranch in Long Valley where ever that is located. I hear they are looking for riders.

Yes that’s true if you have lots of experience in handling cattle.

That I have, not much else! Do you happen to know where it’s located?

"Why yes I do! Take the wagon trail south out of town. That will take you the Franks Pass, which will then drop you down into Long Valley and you cannot miss the ranch entrance. There is a large sign that says, Rocking Horse, ask for Jack Henry he is the Foreman."

Well thank you Miss Mary, I appreciate the info.

You’re welcome, maybe I will see you this winter when I come down off the mountain.

I surely hope so, and with that, she turned and retreated into the kitchen. A