Luke's Gold by Charles G. West Page B

replied. “Hell, just let ’em lay. Put all that stuff on them other horses.” He stood and watched while Curly, uncomplaining, loaded up the weapons.
    Finished, Curly grinned and said, “I reckon we can have us some of that antelope meat I been smellin’ for two days.” He turned to face his partner, his grin fading to a look of confusion when he saw the rifle leveled at him. His simple mind still failing to understand, he asked, “You want me to—” The question was never completed as Snider’s rifle bucked again, leaving a dark hole in Curly’s forehead.
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    Levi Crabtree knelt motionless as he watched from the screen provided by the lower boughs of a massive fir. The object that had captured his attention was bobbing gently against a small boulder in the middle of the river, and he could now confirm that it was a body. He had heard the shots fired a short distance upstream from where he now crouched, and his first impulse was to gather up his traps and seek the cover of the fir trees that stood by the bank of the river.
    Watching what he now knew was a body bumping repeatedly against the boulder, he could not be sure if the victim was alive or dead. If he were to guess, he would say the man was dead. His instincts of self-preservation told him to remain still, and the river would carry the corpse away. The party responsible for the killing might show up at any minute looking for the body. His natural curiosity won the battle, however, and when the current finally swept the body around the boulder, Levi decided to take a closer look. Besides, he reasoned, there may be something of value on it.
    Speculating that he had ample time to wade out to intercept the corpse before the current floated it past him, he scanned the riverbanks carefully before leaving his hiding place. He owed his longevity in the mountains to the fact that nobody knew he was there, and already he was beginning to wonder if it had been a mistake to venture this far from the safety of the high peaks. With the body almost to him now, he pushed out into the water, being careful not to lose his footing on the slippery rocks of the riverbed. With one hand, he reached out and snagged the body by the collar, and quickly pulled it back to the bank and the cover of the firs.
    He’s dead, all right, Levi thought at first glance. Young fellow, shot through the chest, blood still seeping through the hole in his shirt. The thought struck him as strange. He’s dead, but his heart’s still pumping. He dragged the man out of the water and up under the limbs of the fir. He looked at the face, drained of color except for a blue shading around the eyes and mouth.
    A cursory glance at the body told Levi that there was nothing of value to be salvaged—no weapon or ammunition, not even a knife. He decided to leave the corpse under the limbs of the fir tree and start back up the mountain, but he hesitated, still intrigued by the continuous bleeding from the wound. As he stared at the young face, wondering what circumstances caused him to wind up floating down the river, he suddenly recoiled. Had the body just twitched, or was it his imagination? In the next moment, the body stiffened in spasm, then relaxed, and river water gushed from its mouth.
    Astonished, Levi didn’t know what to do, but he determined to do something. For lack of a better idea, he turned the body over on its stomach and began pounding on its back, hoping to force more water out.
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    Alive or dead, he wasn’t certain. He didn’t even know what had happened. Everything had suddenly gone black. When his mind began to function again, he had found himself facedown in the water, and he seemed to be drifting. He remembered that his first impulse was to hold his breath, and when he tried to turn his face out of the water, he couldn’t move. The only thing he could think to do was to continue to hold his breath. That was his last clear