Moe Jedd... Part Two. Bore's Tusk.

Back Jumpers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took them a lot longer with Moe, longer than it did with many others, at least. Most of the Harvesters prey were just common scoundrels of the lowest sort and were as easy to find as night and day, but Moe Jedd proved to be craftier and more elusive than most. They would track him across the highest mountains, to the lowest valleys, across the great plains and through the hottest deserts on any continent. Moe Jedd was just cut different, he'd been shot, time and time again, left for dead countless times, and then as though through the will of some dark god he would appear yet again to wreak havoc on all those who dare try him. In spite of his current condition Slackjaw Hatton knew that Moe was not cut from the same cloth as normal men, and when the time would come for him to stand face to face with him Slackjaw knew that he could ride with all hell at his back and Moe Jedd would still find a way to cut him down. Still, he would not relent. He and his minions would follow the trail of Moe Jedd right on through until winter would come.

Thursday, October 28th 1869, 10:00 am.

He rode for five days straight through Desolation Sands, considered by most normal folks a death ride across a literal wasteland. And yet Moe Jedd had done it several times and knew what it took to survive in the unforgiving wilderness. He lived on Barrel Cactus innards, knew where to find water, and cooked and ate lizard and rattlesnake meat, as he rode he kept the sun in front of him, there was a single rider on his heels, Moe wasn't wanted so he took him for a scrounge who was looking for easy prey and when he got within range his aim was to kill Moe and steal his gear. He rode around a crest of rocks and hid his animal, letting the rider close the distance, The scrounge had his rifle drawn when he rose over the rocks, he opened fire and there was no one there. Moe had flanked him to his right and the first shot from his Army colt ripped his belly open and took him clean off his saddle, he landed in the hot sand with a gaping hole in his side, he tried to sit up while trying to hold his guts in, Moe's second shot ripped a second hole in his stomach, he could almost smell the stench of his own fresh gushing blood cooking in the desert sun, Moe's third shot took half of his head off. He calmly walked over to the scrounge's horse and grabbed the reins, it didn't offer resistance, he walked back over to the body leading the horse along, Moe took all the guns and checked his pockets there were a few coins and not much else, He stared down at the now lifeless body of the scrounger.

"See what you did? You went and turned ME into a scrounger. Damn back jumpers." 

He returned to his own animal and tethered the scrounger's to his saddle and headed to a part of rocky peak called Flat rock there was shade and a small fresh water pool there, and a place to build a fire, Moe decided to rest there for the night. He would wipe both animals down with cool water and let them free to drink in the fresh water pool while he went through the scrounger's saddlebags, where he found another bag full of coins a tobacco pouch, some jerky, and a bag of oats that he would feed to the animals.  He decided that the rifle was worth saving, the two Schofield pistols would need some cleaning, but he could more than likely trade them for dried goods, the animal was well-kept so it would be useful. He would trade the guns after a good cleaning at the next trading post, and maybe the horse as well.  He made a fire in the rocks and slept off and on during the night uncontested.  The next morning, he loaded both animals back up and filled two canteens with fresh water. and when he rode out the other side of Desolation Sands he rode up into the higher elevations, before eight o'clock he rounded the upper peak of the Timberline mountains and could see nestled amongst tall pine trees was the tiny dusty mountain settlement of Bore's Tusk. 

There were all in all four buildings, it was just more or less nothing but a place to get a drink maybe shelter and supplies before travelers would press on with their journeys, Bore's Tusk was little more than a saloon, a tack and livery stable a trading post and stage station. There was no sherrif and no law to be had but what they made for themselves. He rode in mid-morning, quickly attracting unwanted stares. Although Moe had been there before, most folks that passed through didn't recognize him. He sat tall in the saddle, his blonde hair was long dirty and shaggy, with the two Army Colts strapped to his hips, Moe Jedd held the appearance of a menacing man, broad shouldered muscular and strong, he was quite the imposing figure. He kept the scrounger's animal in tow and pulled rein in front of Madam's Daiquiris Big Tooth saloon, Moe climbed down from the saddle and tethered both horses to the hitching post. When he came walking through the double swinging doors the older woman behind the bar's face lit up, Hetty Grainger was well-kept with slightly graying black hair, which she kept up in a bun. She was a pretty woman with kind eyes, but the shotgun she kept behind the bar hidden from view allowed her to get nasty whenever the need should arise. 

"Why, as I live and breathe, Moe Jedd." She smiled.

He walked up to the bar and placed three coins on the counter, she pulled a small glass from the shelf along with a half full bottle of Whiskey, she uncorked it and pour him a glass, while eying him curiously.

"I've been hearing things about you, Moe." She said.

"Like what things Hetty?" He asked flatly before taking a drink.

She leaned forward slightly, her voice softly falling into a guarded whisper. her sparkly hazel eyes danced around the room nervously.

"I hear tell, there's some feller's lookin for you Moe, real nasty fellers. Over near Flat Nose I hear, on the other side of the desert. Sherrif of Flat Nose Abe Rosen and three of his deputies found the bodies of Kyle Cole, John Booth and Cobb Farris up in the rocky hills at Flagg's Peak, and there was some young feller riding with them, he got himself expired too. Somebody done wrote your name on a big flat rock in Cobb Farris's blood. Sherrif Rosen figures since you and Cobb used to ride together and all, they would be comin for you next."

Moe Jedd shrugged his shoulders.

"Hell Hetty, I reckon there's always somebody lookin for me, I'll probably be meetin up with them sooner or later, Let em look I ain't hidin nowhere." He finished his whiskey and she poured him another.

"Damn Moe, no offense, but you look like you could use a bath, and a shave too."

"Yep, I've been ridin for a bit, probably got enough trail dust on me to make my own sand dune. I'll be headin over to Henry's tradin post next, maybe get me some dried beans and a chunk of dried bacon. maybe a bar of soap, I got some things to trade, and then I'll be headin up to the Hot Springs near Marmett, I reckon I'll be able to scrounge me up a rabbit or two while I'm there."  

"There's some wild hog up there too this time of year." she added.

He took another shot of whiskey and nodded to Hetty Grainger, and turned to leave when she called to him a last time.

"Moe?"

He turned to face her.

"You reckon them three fellers will come this far north to look for you?" She asked.

"I guess we'll find out together, Hetty."

He went into the trading post and was met at the door by the proprietor Henry Wilcom, who agreed to take the guns and extra horse off of his hands. He traded for some dried beans and rice, lard, salted pork, potatoes and a bar of soap and two clean towels which he would keep rolled up in his bedding along with a change of clothes and a pack of matches. Henry who really liked Moe even gave him a couple dollars extra, due to the extra large size of his saddlebags Moe was able to carry a little bit of everything, He loaded up his supplies and set out for the Marmett hot springs. Marmett was a deserted old mining camp that sat a bit higher up in the Timberline's where the edge of the snow would fall, there were two broken down old buildings up there that nobody used anymore, one of them was good enough to keep the cold nights at bay and it even had a wood stove, a place to sleep and a table. He arrived at Marmutt just before dusk after he unpacked his gear he had just enough light left to gather some water from a nearby stream and enough wood to start a fire in the old stove before he would bed down for the night. Through the night full of thinking about the death of his old friend Cobb Farris and the wonderings about the who's and why's of who would do such a thing and why. His sleep would be slightly troubled. In the morning on his way to the hot springs he found a nest and shot a prairie chicken, he bathed in the hot springs dried himself and changed his clothes before heading back to the mining shack to shave and prepare his breakfast.

By late morning he was dining on fresh prairie chicken, and eggs he collected from the nest, and for the first time in many months, Moe Jedd was starting to once again feel human. As he sat in front of the mining shack his thoughts once again returned to the fate of Cobb Farris, Cobb was smart, he always knew the angles ahead of time, it would take someone special to get up on him the way Hetty said. He would spend two more days and nights in the shack plotting and preparing for his next move. Two days after arriving he packed his provisions and decided that the best idea would be to ride overland across the Timberline's south before the deep snow had a chance at settling in, and then heading due west. If he rode steady he could be at Flagg's peak above Flat Nose in just under a week. And as he rounded  the top of the last peak of the Timberline's He stopped for the night in a hollowed out cave on a lower shelf, started a small fire and allowed his animal to rest, Flaggs Peak was still a day and a half out to the west. Come morning he would take the time to clean both of his weapons, and take stock of his ammunition, deciding that he had a abundant supply, he reloaded both Army Colts before returning to the saddle the next morning and heading west, He would stop one more time between The Timberline's and Flagg's Peak at O'Malley's, a saloon in Bullwark Station another Stagecoach watering hole along the way. He made it and rode in the next day just before high noon.

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