Thinning them out

We huddle off the trail and listen to a plan that is being hatched in Lou's mind seconds before he speaks the words. He has been trained to think on his feet for moments like this, and what training hasn't provided experience fills in.
"Ollie, you and Mike get that man's body out of sight."
They are still huddled with us, listening.
"Do it now... not time to waste."
The two of them hustle off to the task.

Lou sizes up Andy for a moment. Apparently he sees what he needs to see.
"Andy, you take the rifle and man the guy's post. We need his relief to think he is still on duty."
Lou leans in to verify what I think we all have noticed. Andy stinks like a Turkish prison. In fact everyone we have encountered... Seedling, the dead at the wagon, and the outlaw Lou dispatched.
"We should have burned those clothes."
Andy's jaw stiffens. "No... no way. Just need to wash them. I'll stick it out."
"Okay. If you can bear it I guess we can too. Better head out."

There is no complaint, no trying to get out of it. He just grabs the rifle, checks the load, and heads back to the overlook. I'm half thinking that if the relief gets by Lou that Andy will kill the guy himself.

"Wow." My remark plies a knowing look from Lou.
"He has a whole other set of balls since we left the boat."

Ollie and Mike have moved the body and are now back. We all take our places. Lou runs up to the lookout, having modified his plan and needing to share it with Andy. Me and Antonelli are positioned so we can assist Lou if need be, or take the man out if Lou fails. Ollie and Mike are positioned further back on the trail that leads back to the outlaw camp in case we all fail and they have to take the rider out.

After Lou talks to Andy and then takes his hiding place, Andy grabs the bottle and his rifle, making sure the bottle is visible in his hand before lowering the brim of his hat. He looks like someone who has passed out from a little too much whiskey while fighting off the boredom of watch.

We don't have long to wait before the rider climbs out of the canyon below. He calls ahead, probably just to warn of his approach.

"Henry?" He hits the top of the trail and from our position we can see that he is one of the larger men. Maybe that huge guy that picked up our Clarok. As he continues, he keeps calling the man's name... fucking with him.
"Henry Carter... this is the law come to gitcha. Get off your lazy ass and come up fer yer hangin'."

He rides passed us and then toward Andy, who hasn't moved and is now doing a pretty good job of snoring.
"You bin sleepin' on watch?" He rides up behind Andy and dismounts. "Orlis'll skin your ass for that one." When he is in right behind Andy he seems to notice something isn't right.
"Henry?"
Lou comes up from hiding and is on him before he knows what is happening. The knife is out, Lou leaps up on the man's back just long enough to draw the knife across his throat, then jumps back to the ground. The man turns, mortally wounded but not ready to give up the ghost. He catches Lou with a wicked roundhouse punch that takes him off his feet. I am pretty sure he thought he cut the guy deep enough, but he is just too big. Now Lou is out as the guy falls like a mighty oak. Once he has hit the ground Andy springs to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His hands shake as he pulls Lou up... who wobbles a bit but then shakes it off.

We assemble around them and pull the man's body so the head is pointing down hill, kicking the outlaw's hat to the side as well.
Andy looks a little puzzled.
"Why did we just do that?"
Ollie pulls the boots and gun belt, saying something in mother tongue.
"We need the clothes." Antonelli translates. "Not the blood."

Lou holds his jaw, moving it this way and that... wincing with the motion.
"It's not broken." He reports.
"You pussy." I make the comment seconds before a punch to my upper arm reminds me that this may not be the time.

Chris seems to be the best fit for the clothes from this recent victim. It isn't the behemoth that we watched as he rode off with out Clarok. He is still down there in the camp.

There is something inheirantly nasty about donning these clothes. It isn't because they are removed from a dead man... that, under the circumstances wouldn't be the bad part. The bad part is that these guys just stink.
"Oh... Jesus." Antonelli wretches as he puts the pants and shirt on. He starts a chain reaction and we all hold back puking up the little bit of food we have eaten. Chris holds up a hand, as if to say "hold on... I've got this". He puts the man's hat on. A little small, so he sets it more on the back of his head.

"That won't work." Lou tells him, taking the hat off his head. He still holds the knife in his hand, crimson where it had sliced into the man's arteries. He wipes it off and then cuts the band out of the inside of the hat.
"Try that."
Antonelli dons the hat and it fits better than it did.

We inventory the man's weapons. The Sharps rifle is a prize. Good for long distance sniper style shooting. The man carried two pistols and a pair of cartridge belts that crossed his massive frame. Last but not least a Bowie knife. Ollie pulls it from the sheath and looks at it for a moment, weighing the blade in his hand. Then he removes the sheath and leather tie from the body.

"Well, I guess Ollie wants the knife." I report.
Lou checks both pistols, trying the weight. He opts to keep the one he has on. Antonelli takes a pistol, me the other. Mike picks up the rifle.
"Do you boys mind if I shoot the rifle? I am a pretty good shot back home."

I look at Lou, who shrugs, "That's fine, Mike."
Andy retrieves the cartridge belt for the rifle he is holding.
"You know how to use that?" Lou asks.
"I am an expert marksman." Andy reports, back in the button up mode of the past several months.

After walking the horse away from the trail and securing it, we follow the trail back down the mountain, slowly but surely. We watch the other side of the canyon like hawks... searching for possible counterparts to the men we have dispatched. We find none. The perch where we found the look-out had a view of the approach for many miles. There must be no need to place a man on the opposite side of the canyon.

Lou's plan to wait until dark isn't going to happen. As we make our way down toward the outlaw camp we can hear a commotion. They realize that the first man we killed hasn't come back down. Two men on horseback are riding up the trail toward our position. Two more are riding up the other side of the river to where they will be able to see and communicate with the look-out. It seems like the two coming up to our position will make it before the others get to where they can yell up to the look-out. If Ollie's count was correct that leaves three in camp. One of them will be Orlis Keene, the fastest and deadliest gun in these parts.

Lou wave's Andy and Mike over.
"You two head back up to the look-out. If these guys make it passed us, then you will have to take them out. If not, then you have those two on the other side of the river. Once you hear the gunfire, you better take them. We need to thin these boys out. If you have a clean shot, then take them anyway. Better two than none."

They sit the for a second, not sure whether to go or not. This is it, time to kill. There is no second place. Andy makes a move and tows Mike out of the gathering. They head back up the trail, rifles at the ready. Lou toys with the thought of sending Antonelli back up to the look-out to pose as their man, but we can't afford to be any more outnumbered than we are.

Ahead of us, the trail comes up out of their camp, winds back around a corner, then up toward us. We watch as two of the men slowly ride up the trail, disappearing behind the corner. We can hear them talking as the ascend the canyon wall. Once they appear we will have about thirty seconds until they are on us.
"We should let them pass." I whisper to Lou, who nods. He is thinking the same thing I am. We have a better chance at surprising them from behind. We look to Antonelli who gives his acknowledgement and tells us he is going to move up the trail to give another dimension to this trap. He will wait for us to make our move, then show himself, pistol in one hand... scatter gun in the other.

Across the river we watch the other two riders head downstream to view the look-out.
They are moving faster than we would like. We don't want them in position before we are able to take out our two riders. That will give us a chance to assess the situation in camp. We are in the only spot on the trail with a limited view of the river below. It may give us a chance to take these guys without Orlis and the remaining men seeing us.

I hope that Andy and Mike don't get antsy and peel off a shot before they are ready.

Around the corner they come. A couple of mean looking bastards cussing up a storm about the fact they were rousted to come up and see what the hell is going on. They don't have their guns drawn, but one of them has his to the front left. A sure sign that he is a quick draw, especially from horseback where the trip from reigns to pistol is a split second away.