A RANGER'S TIME

Chapter 3 - Encounter

June, 1892

For the next few years, following his meeting with Captain McMurry, Charlie worked for the bosses of the five major ranches surrounding Amarillo in the panhandle. He got to know all of them fairly well. Mr. Stewart, the ranch manager at the LIT, told Charlie he could bunk in an old deserted buffalo hunter's cabin on the LIT property. The cabin sat atop a wooded bluff overlooking the ranch lands just four miles north of Amarillo. The Amarillo River flowed close by so the cabin always had a good supply of water. This cabin became Charlie's home.

The prisoner trips to the Colorado Territorial Prison became more and more frequent. But he didn't mind. It was easy work, not very dangerous, and it got him away from the ranches and Amarillo for a while. It was a good respite from his routine duties. He would collect prisoners from the jails of neighboring towns and transport them to the territorial prison in Cañon City in the Colorado Territory. Charlie found the trips to Cañon City relaxing.

He loaded the prisoners on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe railroad in Amarillo and rode it all the way to Cañon City. He normally had around five or six prisoners to contend with. By the time he picked them up and chained them to the floor in a special-built prisoner rail car, the fight was out of them and they were fairly resigned to their fate. All Charlie had to do was sit on a nice cushioned stool for two days and watch the prisoners with a coach gun across his lap. In Cañon City the prison wagon was always there to meet the train. Charlie marched the men off the train and into the wagon. He exchanged signatures and paperwork with the guards and then he was done.

For the first few trips, he would stay in Cañon City anywhere from a day to a week until the next train came by heading back to Amarillo. The waiting was the worst part of the trip. He was bored. While riding the train to and from Cañon City, he longed to be out on the trail again. He missed the solitude and peacefulness of the prairie.

By his fourth trip, he was tired of train travel. This time he loaded Gus into the stable car and brought him along. After the exchange of prisoners with the guards, he and Gus would make their week-long excursion back to Amarillo. He wasn't in any hurry to get back and it wasn't likely he would be missed. These return trips through the prairie gave him time to reminisce about his life and time to think about what future he had left. Charlie made a prisoner trip about every two or three months.

The sun was almost set on this hot June day in 1892. The heat that bore down on Charlie all day long was finally starting to dissipate. He stood next to Gus on a bluff overlooking the town of Tascosa at the end of the Dodge City Trail in the Texas panhandle. This was a bad time to be here. After three long, rough days on the trail, the last place he wanted to be was in Tascosa at night. Usually, on his trips back to Amarillo, he'd stop here for supplies, food, or maybe a drink. This trip was different. He was in a hurry to get back to Amarillo. In his haste, he ended up here a half day sooner than normal.

Charlie knew all too well of the chaos that broke loose in this old cattle town after dark. What little law there was usually turned its back on the ruckus caused by the cowboys and outlaws that frequented the saloons and brothels. He was in no mood to deal with that hell hole tonight. He was tired and sore and all he wanted to do was bed down.

He rode wide of the town along the Canadian River bank and crossed the river at Bridge Street. On the other side of the river, he rode a few miles south along the bank through the tall switch-grass and cottonwood trees until he came to a small clearing next to a bend in the river. Charlie unsaddled Gus, removed his bridle and let him roam off to drink and graze while he set about building a fire. There was something comforting about a fire's flickering glow: a source of warmth, relaxation, and light. In the dark lonely plains, it was the perfect companion.