Chapter 8 - Turning the Table
The snow began to fall in heavy, blinding sheets as dawn broke over the jagged spine of the western ridge. The wind whipped the drifts into swirling vortices of white, erasing tracks almost as fast as horses could make them.
Caleb and the two boys had spent the last four hours circling through the high crags, deliberately cutting fresh hoofprints along the steep, treacherous goat paths that overlooked the lower mining road. Now, crouched behind a natural stone parapet halfway up the steep incline, Caleb raised his field glasses to survey the valley below.
Through the grey curtain of falling snow, three mounted figures broke from the tree line near the mine entrance. Leading them was Morai Slade, his face swollen and bruised from the previous night's fight, a white bandage wrapped tightly around his jaw. He sat his horse like an angry predator, pointing furiously toward the fresh tracks leading up the ridge.
"They took the bait," Caleb murmured, lowering the glasses.
Eli peeked over the edge of the rock wall, his breath frosting in the air. "They're coming up the old logging trail. That path narrows down to a single ledge about two hundred yards below us. If a horse slips there, it's a thousand-foot drop into the gorge."
"Good thing we aren't going to fight them on horseback," Caleb said calmly. He pulled a heavy coil of hemp rope from his saddlebag, inspecting the knots. "Eli, you and Noah stay tucked behind this boulder. Do not make a sound, do not show yourselves, and if anything goes wrong, you follow that trail down to the creek where Agnes left the extra pony."
"What are you going to do?" Noah asked, his eyes wide with anxiety.
"I'm going to have a little conversation with Mr. Slade," Caleb replied, a tight, grim smile touching his lips. "It's time he learned what happens when a man tries to buy and sell people who don't belong to him."
Caleb scrambled down the steep embankment through the deep drifts, positioning himself fifty yards above the narrow ledge Eli had mentioned. He wedged himself securely behind a massive shelf of granite that overlooked the winding trail, his repeating rifle resting across a bed of cold stone.
Below, the muffled sound of hoofbeats grew louder. Slade and his two foremen—including Hake—were pushing their mounts hard up the icy slope, cursing the weather and the bitter cold.
"I want that cowboy strung up from the nearest pine," Slade's voice drifted up clearly through the wind. "And as for the brutes who broke into my office, I'll teach them what happens to company property."
"Mr. Slade," Hake called out, pulling his horse to a halt as the trail narrowed sharply. "Look at these tracks. They're heading right out onto the ledge. But there's only one set of shoes coming back down. It's a dead end."
Slade reined in his horse, staring up the sheer rock face. His eyes scanned the upper ledges, searching the blinding wall of white. "He's up there hiding like a rat. Spread out and flush him out! Shoot first and ask questions at the courthouse!"
As Hake spurred his horse forward onto the narrow ice-covered shelf, Caleb didn't fire a shot at the men. Instead, taking careful aim at the snow-laden overhang of earth and ice directly above Slade's position, he squeezed the trigger of his rifle three times in rapid succession.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The heavy bullets shattered the frozen crust of the snowpack. With a deafening roar, hundreds of tons of snow, ice, and loose shale sheared off the upper ridge, cascading down in a massive, roaring avalanche directly onto the trail.
Slade's horse reared in terror, screaming as the wall of snow struck the path. Hake yelled in panic as his mount lost its footing on the ice, sliding backward over the edge of the cliff before disappearing into the swirling white abyss below.
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Slade managed to throw himself from his saddle just as the secondary wave of ice slammed into him, pinning his legs beneath a heavy boulder and half-burying him in the drift. The other foreman turned his horse in blind panic and galloped back down the trail as fast as the animal could run, abandoning his boss to the storm.
Caleb stood up from his hiding place, brushing the snow from his coat, and walked steadily down the slope until he stood looking down at the pinned, freezing mine owner.
