The Other Side of Lincoln. Welby Thomas Cox, Jr.

fireplace hearth with Gabe’s Kentucky Long Rifle pointed at the door...she had heard the call from Lenahan and his sight now released the fear and anguish and for the first time she felt the excruciating pain from her wounds.

      “Holy Jesus Ima, let me help you.” Lenahan called as he ran to help the wounded woman but Rags moved between them...although he knew Lenahan... he knew as well that his beloved master was in trouble...he bared his sharp and viciously looking canines. His eyes narrowed, taking on a mystical glare, which dissipated immediately at the touch of Ima’s hand.

      “There, there my precious boy...you know our dear friend Leck.” She said to the dog, which backed away and lay beside her.

      “Oh Leck...they came this morning early...four men, asking Gabe to let them rest their horses in the barn from the weather...Gabe, my darling Gabe” the woman called out through her sobbing.

      Lenahan held her tightly to his chest. “Ima, they have killed Gabe.” he said emotionally through a tightened throat. “Gabe is gone Ima...dear God I am so very sorry.” Lenahan said through the tears.

      Rags sat on his hind end at Ima’s back...he looked into Lenahan’s eyes which were flooded with tears, the dog cried and whimpered in a most pitiful manner as he licked Lenahan’s hand...they had connected. Lenahan saw the dog’s grief and rubbed his large mongrel head. Lenahan remembered how Russell revered this dog, which had saved his life and had become an inseparable part of the lives of the Russell’s.

      “Leck, I know how close the two of you have been...I am so sorry for you as well...but we must be strong now, I feel we have so little time” she coughed in sever pain...blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. “Leck I have been gut shot...no chance for me...but I must ask you for a promise” she said grabbing Lenahan’s arm.

      “We’re going to get you to the doc in St. Mary’s...don’t be talking now Ima...you’ve got to save your energy...” Lenahan said “Leck I’m begging you to listen to me...I know I’m not going to make it and its just as well, that I’ll be going on to be with my husband...but Leck I can’t go without getting a promise from you to take care of something very special to Gabe and me.” She was looking into Leck’s eyes.

      “Ima you know that I would move heaven and hell for you and Gabe...just give me the descriptions of the men who did this terrible thing to you’ll...”

      “Four men...one big guy, I saw him on a sorrel horse with a black eye patch...but Leck, enough of that... I have to get this out, please, please listen to me. I had a brother in Colorado. He and his wife died two years ago of cholera. They had two girls who went to live with my sister-in-law’s mother in Pittsburgh...she died last month and those girls are on their way to Bardstown in the next day or so...we have just received a letter from them...

      Now Leck, they have no one in this world...I know you are a single man and this would be a major job for you...but Leck...Leck, could you gather them up for me and see to them until you can figure out something...to get them back to school in Pittsburgh...maybe with the church..” she entreated.

      “Please Ima, don’t you worry one spec about them girls...I will see to them...Mama’s got an empty house nearly...they will have a safe place with my folks.” He assured her.

      “Thank God...Leck Lenahan you are the very best friend in the world and I know one day some lucky woman will come along for you...and love you as I have loved my Gabe”

      “Gabe was a lucky man, Ima... and you’ll deserve each other.”

      “Listen Leck, under the pot belly stove, there is a loose board. Beneath that board there is a small metal box. Please get it out now...hurry Leck.” She said as she began to cough in a raging manner.

      Lenahan moved toward the stove, which stood on small legs, he took the iron poker and felt the floor beneath the stove, finding the loose board he moved it with ease discovering the metal box, which he removed and took back to Ima.

      “Open the box Leck” she said.

      Inside the box there were several letters tied neatly with a ribbon. There were many small canvass bags filled with gold dust, and a yellowing tattered map attached to a Claim Slip.

      “Leck that map belonged to my brother...he was a miner...discovered this vein of gold at Russell’s Gulch, Colorado...he passed the claim and these bags of gold dust to me for his girls...and I want to pass it to you for them...please Leck get me a pen and ink”.

      As Leck searched for the pen and ink, he thought of all the pain Ima had suffered, losing her first husband and two children in a senseless massacre by the Cheyenne...he wandered why she had stayed on in that brutal environment and those daily reminders of cherished loss and then destiny intervened as Gabe had related to him in the aftermath.

      The wound wasn’t so bad, lying on the slope of the river bank near the road, Gabe Russell tugged at the belt he had tied just above his knee to stop the profuse bleeding. The Minnie’ ball had shattered his knee and was lodged at the bend of the knee in the back of his leg. Russell could feel it and remembered warnings of his unit buddies...the veterans said it was best to get the ball out as quickly as possible. A ball left in the body on a gut shot meant automatic death. He took his knife...feeling along the edge of the ball...he inserted the knife’s tip into the skin. Remarkably there wasn’t much pain...the area was numb from the gun shot. Russell continued to slice freeing the Minnie’ ball...his hands and the wound ran red with blood. He felt weak and faint from the sight of it and crawled to the water...plunging his head into the water before he passed out. He washed the wound and tied it up with a scarf...then he passed out.

      He was dreaming...the wound wasn’t so bad at all he told his mother. god damn sneaking injuns...no glory in being bush whacked...why I couldn’t have gotten it with bugles blaring.

      No daddy I wasn’t charging the injuns. Some dirty son-of-a-bitch shot me from ambush. Some dirty stinking redskin bastard shot my knee and I never got to return fire...I never saw his filthy eyes.

      Russell awoke...the knee was on fire and hurting like hell...he started to cry...Oh dear Jesus, everybody has left me. I’ll die here in this stinking river...help me Lord, I’m too young to die...but then he realized there was nothing he could do about it. He tried to remember some of the things he had heard in church...boring stuff mostly, why I didn’t listen he thought. Maybe there is more to dying and all those prospective places the priest had spoken of: Purgatory...the waiting place, Hell...fire and the demons, Heaven...where no one works and there is peach ice cream all year round! I’m sure to go there...I’ve never done anything except shoot a few injuns and abuse my privates.

      Then the darkness started to fill in around him...he passed out again. When he gained consciousness again he glanced at the moon and heard the sound of coyotes...nearby he thought...dear God...if they catch my scent, the blood. The knee was hurting like hell; Russell eased himself into the river. The water he thought would take away the odor to surely draw the coyotes and perhaps it will help with the pain. Nobody coming to look for me...he knew he’d have to save himself...he’d go with the flow as far as it would take him...maybe by morning he could find a camp even a settlement.

      Thank God for this here river he thought...sure hope it don’t go dry or run into the rapids or a waterfall. Then he heard talking just ahead...there at a slight bend in the river...he could see the glow of the campfire and smell the smoke...He knew that he was very hungry and wondered if this wasn’t a good sign that he wasn’t going to die. The water seemed to run a little more swiftly and it seemed to be getting colder. That means it’s pretty deep here he thought.

      He had every hope that the voices would be friendly settlers. He had been holding on to a large branch floating down the river...good fortune, he was able to lay his rifle on it...maybe its still dry...hell no...No chance of that but he had his knife.

      The voices were clearer now...injuns he thought. He heard moaning and cries. Probably the Cheyenne that attacked the settlers and the Calvary detail, clearly in defiance of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1851 providing for safe conveyance of settlers along the Oregon