The Shooting of Caribou Lou

Whoa.

Coigne?

Whoa.

Hey, Leland!

Who's gonna unpack this mule?

I'm tired as hell!

Damn.

"Leland Drum.

A good friend shot dead...

by I don't know what...

and buried in this spot by Coley

Boyard, his good friend...

in April."

Coley!

Who is that down there?

Willett!

That you, Coley?

Willett who?

Gashade! Gashade!

What's the matter with you?

You step out so's I can

see you, if it's you.

You look! That over there's the pack

mule, and that's Frazer, ain't it?

Well, so who could I be?

- Willett?

- He's crazy.

That's right! It's me!

Hi, Will!

Been sittin' up in the

mine for two days.

Spooked near crazy.

Would've shot anything

on two legs moving, Will.

'Ceptin' you. If I knowed it

was you, I sure wouldn't have...

Never mind. Just tell me

what you're telling me.

You should've been here, Willett!

Lettin' me go on thinkin'

everyone's dead and me next.

I pulled up fever-sick,

I said, Coley.

Now, become calm and tell me

in a way I can understand.

Where is Coigne?

Well, like I said, after you was gone Leland

and Coigne decided to run into Winslow.

For the pleasure, Coigne says.

"Can I go?" He says no.

"Someone's gotta watch over stores

and things, so you stay, Coley."

Well, then they go off.

Not comin' back till

next morning, early.

I get waked by them

pounding in like hell-bent.

Then I hear 'em talking mad and arguing,

so as I conclude they're drunk.

I mean to go back to sleep when your

brother Coigne tears inside here...

and grabs up his roll

mad as I ever seen.

I said, "What are you doing, Coigne?"

"Shut up," he says.

"I am taking your horse."

And he tears back out.

Sure enough, I see him throw

onto my Shorty and dig out fast.

And there stands Leland,

spittin' in the dust, disgusted.

"How come Coigne rode off

that-a-way, Leland?"

"He rode a man and a little person

down in the streets of Winslow.

Maybe it was a child," Leland says.

"But did he kill 'em?" I ask.

"He's not for sure, but he ain't waitin'

to find out, and now he's runnin'."

"Oh, I hate to hear it," I says.

Then I crawls back in to sleep,

assuming Leland done the same.

But damned if I don't

get waked again.

Leland's voice I hear,

and I don't know whose.

Thinking it's your brother, I open up the

flap and look out at Leland drinking coffee.

I can't see nothing else, so I ask,

"Who you talking to, Leland?"

He looks like he's makin' to answer

or to take a mouth of coffee...

when just like that...

his face all spitters out...

spilling in his coffee

and all over hisself...

with none of his

face left on with it.

I reckon someone come to settle with Coigne

on account of what happened in Winslow...

and got Leland instead.

Figurin' I'm next, I jumped

back inside, scared white.

Give me the whips and

jingles so bad, Will, I...

I can't yet catch hold of myself.

Is that the whole way of it, Coley?

I believe.

My mind's all unsatisfied with it.

Seem to me like if Leland had been

involved with the event in Winslow...

he'd have rode off too, wouldn't he,

like the way you told me Coigne done.

Run a man and a little person down.

That's all Leland said. Maybe it was a child.

He's just a-sittin' there,

gettin' killed that-a-way?

I got no understanding of it at all.

It's a terrible thing.

- Give me hold of your gun, Coley.

- What you want it for?

I might be gonna need it,

so just give it to me.

No. I might be just a-needin' it too.

How do I know? All these happenings.

I hate to tell ya,

all riled up like you are...

but I been trailed most of the

way here by I don't know who.

Where's your own gun?

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