May 2022 M'aidez M'aidez
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry rode through a canyon with high sides.
“Heyes, do you have any idea where we are?” The Kid looked up at the top of the ridge. “I sure hope that posse gave up.”
“We should be outta Wyoming and in Montana,” Heyes answered as he pulled his collar up.
“Too bad they didn’t push us north instead of south.” Curry shivered. “Sure hope we can get to a town soon.”
Heyes squinted up ahead. “There’s a fork in the road and a sign. Hopefully it’ll point us in the direction of a town nearby.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Around noon, Heyes and the Kid cautiously rode down the main street of Whiskeytown.
“Looks like a prosperous mining town,” Heyes commented.
The Kid smiled. “There’s a hotel over there that looks nice and warm…after a shot or two of whiskey and a hot meal to warm our insides.”
“Sounds like plan.” Heyes looked around the town as he dismounted. “Did you see who the sheriff is?”
“Nope,” Curry shrugged. “There wasn’t any kinda sign at what looked like the jail.”
“We’ll just have to be real cautious until we find out.” Heyes led the way into the saloon, but quickly stopped just before entering.
“What?” Curry asked.
Heyes turned, then backed his partner up toward the horses. “Remember one of the reasons we went for amnesty?”
The Kid sighed. “Telegraph warnin’ folks the direction we’re headin’?”
Heyes nodded as he quickly untied his horse from the hitching post. “And guess who’s telling the folks to watch out for us?”
Curry mounted his gelding. “Who?”
“The deputy from Junction City. What was his name?”
“The young one who didn’t like our singin’?” Curry's brow furrowed. “Johnny something.”
“Well, Johnny Something is now wearing a nice, shiny sheriff badge.” Heyes reined his horse back on the main street. “Let’s get outta here before Sheriff Johnny sees us.”
Heyes and Kid Curry quickly headed out of town away from a possible posse and made their way toward the mountains.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The former outlaws rode on a mountain trail surrounded by tall pines and golden aspens.
“We need to find somewhere to camp for the night.” Heyes shivered. “I sure could use some hot coffee with the fire that goes with it.”
“There’s a small lake to the right. Not much flat area around it, but we can probably have fish for dinner.”
“Sounds good to me.” Heyes led the way off the trail. “Looks like someone is already camping here.”
“Well, we can be on one end, and he can be on the other.”
“Hello?” Heyes called out.
A man dressed in all furs came out from behind a tree and pointed his rifle. “Arrêter! Qui êtes-vous et que voulez-vous?” {Stop! Who are you and what do you want?}
Heyes and the Kid looked at each other.
“What did he say?” the Kid asked.
Heyes shrugged his shoulders and turned in the man. “Do you speak English?”
“Non. Je parle Français et Crow.” {No. I speak French and Crow.}
Heyes looked back to the Kid. “I’m guessing he’s French and can speak Crow.”
“I understood the no and Crow. Ask him if we can share an area.”
“How?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Heyes pointed to the two of them and then a space near the lake. “We camp over there.”
“Non! Vous partez!” {No! You leave!”} The man pointed his gun towards them and pointed for them to go back.
“Guess we’re not invited here.”
Curry huffed, pointed to the two of them, the lake and arched over it. “We’re goin’ to the other side.”
“Aller!” {Go!}
“We’re leavin’!” Curry exclaimed.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Are you sure you wanna try getting over there?” Heyes frowned as he contemplated traveling around the lake.
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be secure and we can fish for dinner,” a stubborn Kid Curry replied. “I'm hungry!”
The partners finally made their way to the other side of the alpine lake with difficulty. There was lots of brush, no path, and very narrow passages where the mountains met the water. Once there, they dismounted on the only small flat area.
“Well, you’re correct about it being secure.” Heyes began setting up camp. “No one in their right mind would try to get over here.”
The Kid gave Heyes a look. “Let’s get the fire started and then we’ll go fishin’.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“He sure was unfriendly,” Curry commented as they sat by the lake fishing for their dinner and seeing the stranger's campfire on the other side.
“Fur traders and mountain men usually are loners.” Heyes gave the line a pull.
“You can be a loner without bein’ rude.”
“How do you know he was rude? Did you learn French and not tell me?”
Curry smiled at a memory. “Michelle taught me a few words.”
“Ah, the lovely Michelle… I wonder how she’s doing in New Orleans?”
“It’d be nice to go there someday.”
“Someday, once we get amnesty.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The next morning, Heyes and Kid Curry slept in late and enjoyed a lunch of fish, bacon, and biscuits.
Curry took a deep breath and slowly released it. “It’s nice and quiet here. What do you think about stayin’ another night?”
“For as long as it took us to get over here, I’d say that a good idea.” Heyes started walking around the area in the bushes.
A faint yell was heard. “Fais attention! J'ai quelques pièges là-bas.” {Be careful! I have a few traps over there.}
“Was that the trapper?” The Kid shaded his eyes and looked across the lake.
“Yep. I wonder what he said?” Heyes watched the man waving to get their attention.
“Fais attention!” {Be careful!}
“Heyes, stop!”
Heyes stood still. “What is it?”
“There’s a trap right where you’re about to walk.”
Heyes looked down and gulped. His foot was inches from a metal jaw, ready to snap on its victim. Slowly, he backed away from the trap. “That was close… too close!”
“It sure was!” Curry let out a breath he was holding. “Maybe we’ll just stay in camp.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
After they had lost the posse and were forced to quickly leave town, the two former outlaws relaxed, napped, read, and fished all day long. Evening quickly approached, with the sky turning first a fiery orange and ending with pinks and purples as the stars began to twinkle.
“Huh.” Heyes stood by the lake.
Curry came over to stand beside him. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“No fire across the lake, but I didn’t see the trapper pack up and go. Did you?”
“Nope. Last time I looked over that way, his camp still appeared set up.” Curry put his hand on his partner’s back. “Think I’ll turn in since we’re leavin’ in the mornin’.”
“I’m right behind you.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
After a brilliant sunrise, Heyes and the Kid packed up camp and saddled their horses. Being more aware of traps off the main path, they walked their animals out of the area and back towards the trail. They were about to mount when they heard a faint cry.
“M'aidez! M'aidez!” {Help me! Help me!}
Curry cocked his head. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Heyes put his foot in a stirrup.
“M'aidez! M'aidez!” {Help me! Help me!}
“That! It sounds like someone in pain.”
Heyes stood back on the ground with both feet and listened intently.
“M'aidez! M'aidez!” {Help me! Help me!}
“You’re right; it’s a cry for help.”
“The trapper!” the partners said in unison.
“Where?” asked Heyes, looking around and listening.
“You’re the ‘champeen tracker of southern Utah. You tell me.”
Heyes gave his partner the look. “I’d say over there.” He pointed toward a wooded area on the other side of the trail from the lake.
“Let’s check it out.” Curry pulled a leather thong from his bags and hobbled his gelding.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Heyes cupped his hands by his mouth. “Hello?”
“Aidez-moi, s'il vous plaît!” came the plea a little closer this time. {Help me, please!}
“We’re comin’!” Kid Curry called out as he cautiously made his way through the area.
A few minutes later, in a thicker area of pine, Heyes and Curry found the fur trader, his leg held tight in one of his own traps.
“Oh!” They hurried to his side.
The trapper sighed. “Dieu merci, vous êtes toujours dans le coin! Je ne peux pas m'en sortir tout seul.” {Thank God you are still in the area! I cannot get out on my own.}
“Take it easy! We’ll get you out as soon as we can.” Curry knelt by the man and offered him his canteen. “Need a drink?”
“Oui.” {Yes.} The man took the canteen and drank deeply.
Heyes, meanwhile, studied the trap and how it worked. “Looks like his boot saved his leg. This is a different trap than I’ve seen before.” He pointed to the trap and looked at the man. “How?”
The trapper nodded. He pointed to the chain holding the trap down away from him and motioned with his hands to tug upwards. “Détachez la chaîne.” {Pull the chain loose.}
Heyes pulled the chain with its hook from the ground, easing the pressure of the trap.
The mountain man gritted his teeth as he tried to bend his knee, bringing the trap closer to his body.
“Let me help.” Curry carefully moved the trap towards the man so his knee was slightly bent.
“Appuyez avec précaution sur les deux ressorts pour ouvrir les mâchoires.” {Carefully step on the two springs so the jaws open.} He pointed to Heyes’ feet and the area to step and repeated sharply, “Avec attention!” {Carefully!}
Heyes hesitated.
“I think he wants you to step on those springs,” Curry said.
“I know! I’m just…I want to be sure. Maybe if you hold the trap steady while I step on it?”
The Kid nodded and moved closer to the jaws. He reached over the man’s trapped leg and put a hand on the end of each string. “Take it easy, Joshua.”
“I’m trying!” Heyes cautiously stepped on the two springs, opening the jaws. “Get him out!”
Curry quickly moved by the man’s leg and pulled it toward him, releasing it.
“Aïe! La douleur!” {Ow! The pain!} The trapper cradled his foot.
“Watch out!” Heyes warned before stepping off the springs.
The jaws snapped shut.
Heyes picked up the trap and threw it away from them. “How’s he doing?”
Curry was checking out the leg as much as he could under the circumstances. “Let me see it.” He pointed to the trapper's leg and held out his hands.
The man nodded and slowly straightened his leg towards the Kid.
Heyes and Curry carefully pulled up the pant leg and checked out the leg.
“He’s lucky he didn’t lose his foot,” the Kid commented.
“We should cut off his boot so we can clean that wound.”
“Think we better get him to camp first where we can heat water.”
“Good idea.” Heyes stood. “I’ll get one of the horses.”
The trapper laid back and gritted his teeth in pain. “Que comptez-vous faire maintenant?” {What are you planning to do now?}
“Not sure what you’re askin’, but we’re takin’ you back to your camp.”
“Oui. Camp.” {Yes. Camp.}
“Oh good, you understand. Think I'm beginnin' to get this French stuff, too,” Curry grinned.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
An hour later, Heyes and the Kid had the trapper back to his camp with a fire heating water to clean the exposed wounds.
“I guess we should introduce ourselves.” Heyes sat on his haunches near the man. “I am Joshua Smith.” He pointed to himself and then to his partner. “He is Thaddeus Jones.”
The trapper nodded and patted his chest. “Louie Pelletier.
Heyes and the Kid smiled.
“Nice to meet you, Louie.” Heyes turned to his partner. “Can you get the water, that old shirt, and the whiskey and bring them over here?”
“Sure.”
“This may hurt,” Heyes warned Louie.
“Hurt?”
“Yes… umm…” Heyes cradled a hand and showed pain on his face. “Hurt.”
“Blesser…hurt. Oui.”
Heyes offered Louie a clean bandana. “Do you want for the pain?” He mimicked putting it in his mouth and grimacing.
“Oui.” With a look of gratitude, Louie took the piece of cloth and put it in his mouth.
“Ready, Thaddeus?”
“Yep. I got everything we should need.”
Heyes and the Kid worked quickly and efficiently to clean and bandage the wounds caused by the metal-toothed trap while Pelletier closed his eyes and bit down on the bandana.
“Need a break?” Curry asked.
“Break?”
“Ummm… Pause?”
“No pause!” Louie shook his head vehemently and waved for them to continue.
“There!” Heyes exclaimed. “That’s the best we can do, but we’ll have to get him into town to the doctor.”
“We can’t go back into Whiskeytown and risk Sheriff Johnny seein’ us.”
“Whiskeytown?” Pellitier nodded. “Oui, Je devrais aller voir un médecin. Peux-tu m'emmener en ville?” {Whiskeytown? Yes, I should go see a doctor. Can you get me to town?}
“What’d he say?” Heyes asked. “Did you understand any of it?”
“Whiskeytown and medicine,” the Kid shrugged. “So I’m guessin’ the doctor in town.”
“That makes sense. Oui…Yes, we will get you to Whiskeytown to a doctor.” Heyes nodded.
“Merci! l'eau?” {Thank you. Water?} Pelletier pretended to drink from a canteen.
“Water?” Curry held up a canteen.
“Oui. Water.” Louie drank deeply and soon fell asleep.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
While Louie Pelletier rested, Heyes and Curry made a light lunch and packed up the trapper’s camp.
Kid Curry gently shook him awake when they were ready to go. “Louie, time to go.”
“Whiskeytown?”
Curry smiled. “Whiskeytown.”
“J'aurai besoin d'aide pour monter sur mon cheval.” {I will need help getting on my horse.} Pelletier pointed to himself, his bad leg, and the horse.
The Kid nodded. “We’ll help you.”
Heyes and Curry half-carried the trapper to his horse, got him mounted and then made sure he was comfortable. His bad leg was covered and hanging to one side.
“Let’s go.” Heyes mounted his horse and led the way, while the Kid had the trapper’s mule’s reins and pulled him along after them.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A few miles from Whiskeytown, Heyes stopped. He pointed to himself and Curry. “No Whiskeytown for us.”
“Non? Pourquoi?” {No? Why?}
Heyes shook his head and repeated, “No Whiskeytown for us.” Again, he pointed to the two of them.
Curry dismounted his horse and led the mule up to the trapper. “Here you go.”
Louie Pelletier nodded and took the lead for the mule. “Merci de m'avoir aidé même si je n'ai pas été gentil avec toi lors de notre rencontre. Je l'apprécie et je n'oublierai pas.” {Thank you for helping me though I was not nice to you when we met. I appreciate it and will not forget.}
Heyes and the Kid looked at each other in confusion, wondering what the man had said.
“All I got was thank you outta that,” Curry commented with a shrug.
Heyes and the Kid shook hands with the trapper and watched him travel the last few miles into town, making sure he could handle the horse and mule.
“You know what, Heyes? “What we done there was another good deed.” Kid Curry smiled.
“Yeah, well, let’s not make a practice of it. You know how much trouble we got into doing a good deed with Joe Simms.” Heyes grinned back.
Note:
Pelletier Name Meaning (French) occupational name for a fur trader, from Old French pelletier (a derivative of pellet, diminutive of pel ‘skin’, ‘hide’).
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"Do you ever get the feeling that nothing right is ever going to happen to us again?" - Kid Curry
Sun May 01, 2022 11:37 pm
