In 1863, Confederate Texas begins to encounter the near hopeless economic circumstances that The War has brought and that will only worsen with the eventual surrender of the Confederacy. Their only weapon for survival: wild maverick cattle. The Yankee gold needed to preserve and protect a lifestyle and a lifetime of work can only be found by rounding up wild cattle out of the breaks and canyons of west Texas and driving them to the Union forts in New Mexico Territory. This undermanned crew will fight a gang of would-be assassins, a waterless desert crossing, raiding Apache Indians that outnumber them 10 to 1 and floods along the Pecos River. Follow this war-time crew of Mexican horse thieves, a one-eyed Irishman. a freed former slave, a desperate Texas ranch owner, a former Confederate Lieutenant and a Union Corporal as they attempt to do something with 1700 head of wild cattle in the middle of the 1863 American Civil War that had never been done before. Get caught-up in their high adventure as the rich, but little known history of this great war in the west unfolds around them.

Up Trail!

A Desperate Cattle Drive Out of Texas During The Great American Civil WarBy Dann Wallis

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Dann Wallis
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-6805-9

Chapter One

The Hill Country of Texas, April, 1863

The Decision

John's eyes were open; wide open! He had actually felt them fly open like a runaway window shade. He lay there attempting to focus on something familiar in the dark that surrounded him, because this dark suddenly scared the hell out of him! His body was beaded with sweat and whatever he was laying on was damp with what he had already been shed. He mind was racing to sort it all out; was this real ... had he been awake or just reliving this nightmare? Whichever, he was truly scared by what he had 'seen'; as he had been every time he had been forced to 'live' it. Had he screamed out, was that what had wakened him, if so, what about the others in the house ... had they heard him? It was all so clear, so detailed, but then it should be ... because at least once it had been real!

It was now night on April 7, 1862; the battle of Pittsburg Landing was just over. The Union must have won, if you could call it that, at least the Confederates had withdrawn into the late afternoon sun of Middle Tennessee. He had just come to in the dark, curled up next to Chester's headless body. He and Chester, what was that boy's last name anyway, had exhausted all of their powder and were moving back from their position when that Reb. Cavalry rider had charged his horse into them. When John looked over his shoulder, all he could see was the glint of the sun flashing on the wildly swinging saber and the broad chest of that gray horse nearly on top of them, riding them to the ground. The rider had been right handed so it was Chester's head that rolled away as his body had tried to keep running; John was ridden to the ground as the big gray stumbled over the fallen body. Had that rider been left handed, well John wouldn't be here trying to sort out these nightmares.

He sat up, legs over the side of the narrow bed and rubbed his eyes to make the images fade away ... for now. He had sent a letter asking Sarah to marry him, how would she ever handle something like this ... how would he ever even explain it to her without scaring her away? Well he hadn't had an answer to his letter of four months ago; maybe she would just turn him down, likely be better for all of 'em.

* * *

"Alli Viene el Cartero! Alli Viene el Cartero! Miss Lucinda, the Post Rider, he comes!"

"Howdy Ma'am. I have here a letter for Mr. John Kelley, he still be a guest of y'all?"

"Yes. Yes he is. Thank you. May I offer you a drink of cool, spring water before you travel on?"

My Dearest John, March 5, 1863 Ouachita County, Arkansas

It gave me such pleasure for the Post Rider to come to my door-yard with yours of January 7. The letter made the trip from Texas in but seven weeks and you will note that I have stopped to write immediately as the Post Rider promises to return and stop by in two days hence. Matt, since you were here he will no longer answer to Matthew, and I are relieved at the safe arrival and rapid recovery of you and Glenn. Thank you for your kind words regarding my care, but I believe it was your determination to fulfill your pledge to see Glenn home that caused you both to recover.

Before you and Glenn had topped the first rise to the west, the emptiness of your leaving had already settled into my life. Matt and I watched for some time in the hope you would return and ask us just once more to go with you. Yet I knew you well enough to know you would not. You had said your piece once and I knew you would not ask again. Had you, my answer would have been very different that second time. My Aunt who raised me in Little Rock had always told me she believed for every woman, God would provide one good man. During my life with John Henry, I was certain she had lied to me. Then you rode up my lane with Glenn in tow, both of you more dead than alive, and with you, the hope of her words slowly began to return to me. I watched helplessly as you put your life at risk to protect me from the renegades, and later saw you react when Mr. Simcox put his hands on me. I knew then that my Aunt had spoken the truth, for no man had ever stepped forward to protect me before. Your letter said your Mother called this Devine Intervention. I never thought of it that way before, but that is truly what it is; part of God's plan for our lives. And, I stood quietly by the gate, tears in my eyes, and watched as His plan for me rode off to the west.

I find I am much less able to maintain and protect the farm than I thought to be. I am afraid much of your hard work is no longer in evidence. The roads have been full of retreating and deserting Confederate soldiers. They are such a sorry lot; poorly clothed, poorly equipped and so poorly fed. At first I felt such concern for their plight and tried to help, but quickly became overwhelmed by their number. They broke into the barn for shelter and used the siding to start fires for warmth. At some point they stole one of the renegades' horses and our milk cow from my pasture. During a lull in the traffic, Matt and I moved the other three horses and your two calves into the back pasture where they can not be seen from the road, but I do not know how long they may be safe. I fear as I write this there may now be two men camping in the barn. Matt, Duke and I stay safely barricaded in the house during the day with the scattergun; I am certain you remember your introduction to my scattergun! Then we take care of our water, food and other needs at night.

John, if you have not figured it out by now, my answer to your wonderful proposal is most definitely YES! And, thank you for wanting us in your life. In the interest of time, I would come to you. But given the current conditions, I would be fearful for our safety on these roads. So I hope you will want us enough to come for us as we are oh so ready to be with you.

It is with great love and anticipation that we wait.

Yours Forever ... Sarah

* * *

It was unusually cool in the west Texas Hill Country for an evening in early April in this year of our Lord 1863. It had been a wet spring and the grass on the prairies was already almost belly-tall to a Longhorn ... had there been any Longhorns nearby to measure it on. Oh there were a few still held by the corral ... Mr. McCord says in Texas you couldn't call yourself a rancher if'n you ain't got no cattle. But, with all of the men of Texas off fighting Indians or Federals, the cattle had all gone wild and run off the ranches to hide in the brakes and the draws and just propagate. For the most part, it wasn't even worthwhile going after them ... there was no gold to be had for their sale and with the inflation of the confederate money; it became more nearly worthless each day. No one would ever trade anything of value for a cow, if they needed one for food they would just go off and fetch one out of the canyons.

The bluebonnets were spectacular, and because the warm, wet weather had come early and stayed late, everyone said it was the most beautiful spring they could remember ... but people said something like that every year. The meadows and the wagon roads were alive with color. Even the normally grassy strip in the...