A Legend Untold

Book 1

A

Reluctant

Legend

Prologue

Like I was sayin’, the old man continued, every now an’ then, a boy is born to a legend, whether he wants it or not. An’ some legends never get told. Now, you take the untold legend of Colton Bonner…

This is the story the old man told to me that day.

Chapter 1

Life in the nineteenth century American West was hard, and so it was for Colton Bonner. Born in Kentucky, he came west with his mother and father in search of opportunity. His father was killed in an accident during their journey, forcing Colton to become the man of the family at the age of fourteen. Trouble seemed to become a way of life for him from that point on.

He and his mother found a good location in Kansas to homestead and they began farming. It was hard work, but Colton applied himself diligently, learning to farm, and to hunt as well. Before long, he developed not only the strength of a more mature man, but also his marksman’s eye and his understanding of the trials and challenges that life often brings.

That understanding, unfortunately, was increased the next year. Their spring turned bad and his mother died of fever from the brackish water, leaving Colton on his own at fifteen. The War for Southern Independence had ended not too long before and many former soldiers, especially from the South, were drifting west to start a new life in a wide open land. That sounded to Colton like a good opportunity for him to put his bad memories behind him, so he sold the farm and headed west.

Along the way, he quickly found that most of the wandering men he ran across, both on the trail and in the many little towns springing up, tended to settle their differences with guns, especially when whiskey was involved. And whiskey always seemed to be involved. It was even more plentiful in these new towns than wanderers and former soldiers. He realized he would need to become as proficient with a pistol as he was with his rifle.

As he traveled west, Colton would stop at deserted areas and practice with the old Colt revolver that had been his father’s. He could see that, not only would marksmanship be essential, but speed would be a great advantage as well. He knew he would need a good holster and a good supply of ammunition for practice, and he also planned to trade his old muzzle-loading rifle for one of those Henry repeaters the first chance he had. He had heard former soldiers saying you could load it on Sunday and shoot it all week. All this would use up a lot of the money he had gotten from the sale of the farm, so he needed to be thinking about earning some more. The idea of cattle soon came to his attention.

After the war, many Southern soldiers found that stray cattle, which had migrated up from Mexico over the decades, had been busy multiplying in the brushes of southern Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. They were unbranded and were available to anyone who wanted to round them up and drive them to a rail head for shipment to eastern markets. Beef was also needed to feed the railroad crews working their way west, and needed further west and north by prospectors in the gold camps and boomtowns.

All this meant that large numbers of cattle were beginning to be driven up out of the border states, and men were needed to do the driving. Colton figured that would be a good way to earn some money, while making his way west as well. He determined to try to hire on to the first cattle drive he found, and he found it around a campfire south of Ellsworth, Kansas.

Chapter 2

I’m lookin’ for a job, Colton said to the men eating around the campfire.

They all looked him over and didn’t seem to be at all impressed by this thin young boy who, indeed, looked fresh off the farm. One man finally spoke up. I don’t know about the job, but I never turn a man away from the fire hungry.

Thank you, sir, but I’m not one to take charity. I’d rather work for it, if there’s a job available.

It ain’t charity, son, said the man, it’s survival. This is a hard land an’ it’s a sorry man that won’t help a fella. You ever punch cattle?

No, sir, but I’m no stranger to hard work.

Ever eat dust all day behind a herd?

No, sir, but I’ve eat it all day behind a plow.

Ever spent sixteen hours in a saddle an’ got by on four hours sleep a night? An’ that’s on the nights you ain’t ridin’ night herd.

No, sir, but I’ll get used to it if I have to.

What’s your name, son?

Colton Bonner, sir.

The man sized the boy up for just a moment, then said, Well, ‘Colton Bonner Sir,’ I’m Hank Benson, your new boss. Eat up, you’ll need it.

A couple of weeks later, they were making good progress, going fast enough to reach Ellsworth during the height of the market, yet slow enough not to take any weight off the cattle. It ain’t that much further to Ellsworth, Hank told Colton. We’ll be sellin’ this herd there an’ payin’ the boys off, then anybody that wants to can go back to Texas with me. If you want to keep goin’ west, though, there’s other trails further west where you might find another herd to hire onto.

Colton hadn’t minded the long hours and the dust as much as he had feared at first. That’s prob’ly what I’ll do, Mr. Benson. I appreciate you takin’ me on, though.

You’ve earned yer keep. Yer a hard worker an’ a fast learner. Tell yer next trail boss I said so.

Colton beamed and said, Thank you, sir.

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At Ellsworth, the trail crew was paid

off and Colton knew he needed to use his  pay wisely. His first wise decision was to stay away from the saloons, gambling halls and the women. It wasn’t that difficult. Although he found he didn’t dislike whiskey, he hadn’t developed the taste for it that most of the others had. Gambling looked to him like a sucker’s game, unless you could cheat without getting caught, and women hadn’t yet been so tempting to him that he couldn’t resist their advances.

No, he had more important ways in mind to spend his money. The first priority was to get a good holster. He found a saddle shop with some holsters in the window and went in to look around. He saw some nice holsters, but not like what he had in mind. He had noticed some men who carried their guns crossdraw style, in front of the left hip but turned to be drawn with the right hand. This made a lot of sense, seeming to afford a shorter, continuous motion for getting the gun into action. He asked about the prices of the holsters he saw and decided that he needed to get a bit creative with his finances if he wanted to have enough money to get a new repeating rifle and get him into Colorado to the next cattle trail.

He asked the proprietor if business was good. Got more’n I can handle, what with a bunch of fresh-paid cowhands needin’ to replace some wore-out rigs.

What if I offered to work free for two weeks, Colton said, "in exchange for a

holster an’ belt I’ll make myself?"

You know how to make a saddle?