The date was July 15, 1881. The small crowd was gathered at the old Military Cemetery south of Fort Sumner, New Mexico Territory. It was a small group. The publicity had purposely been kept at a minimum, but it would soon leak to the big city newspapers and to the public in general. The occasion was the burial and final resting place of the five foot three inch 125 pound body of William H. Bonney in the closed casket at the bottom of the fresh dug grave. He was better known as the fun loving forever laughing boy outlaw called Billy the Kid or sometimes just called The Kid.
Billy had killed 21 men to match his young age and had quickly gained a national reputation as the Robin Hood of the Pecos Valley for his actions in the Lincoln County War and his daring escapes thereafter. But now less than 18 hours ago Billy had been shot and killed by the recently elected Lincoln County Sheriff, Patrick Floyd Garrett, at midnight on July 13, 1881. Some would record the date as July 14th, since it was actually after midnight when Billy died.
Billy had lived fast and died even faster. It was said with just a grasping smile on his face as he looked at his two old friends. Then he died moments after the one shot at close range into his chest by his once best friend, Pat Garrett, and soon died in the arms of his old friend and ex-employer, Pete Maxwell. It had been near midnight when Billy had entered the darkened bedroom of Pete at the main house on the Maxwell Ranch, located just a short distance over the rolling barren hills to the southwest. Billy had just returned from the small town to the north also called by the name of Fort Sumner. He had been to a local fandango or dance party with his girl friend, Cantrina. He had been hungry and Cantrina, who worked at the Maxwell Ranch, had told him about a fresh beef quarter hanging on the porch of the main house. She would cook him a steak, if he would fetch the meat. Billy walked from Cantrina’s small adobe cabin across the back of the ranch compound toward the main house. He was barefooted, shirtless, and without his hat, he carried a butcher knife to slice the beef. As he neared the main house, he noticed in the shadows of the dim moon light two strange mounted riders near the front of the main house holding a third horse with an empty saddle. Billy had without so much as a thought, quickly entered Pete Maxwell’s dark bedroom in order to tell his friend of the mounted men.
And there in the dark sitting on the edge of the bed was the third man from the empty horse, Sheriff Pat Garrett, who was also there to talk to Pete Maxwell about if he knew of the whereabouts of Billy. With two quick sudden shots, Sheriff Garrett ended the life of Billy the Kid. The second shot had not been necessary, the first shot had hit Billy hard.
Ashum, the newspaper writer and traveling journalist, tied his stable rented horse to the lone Mesquite tree near the entrance of the small wood picked fenced cemetery. He noticed most of the fence weathered boards had blow off the fence despite it being a military cemetery. But that was easy to understand, considering the way the wind was blowing on the hilltop today. A lone tumbleweed blew against the fence and remained anchored by the wind force for several seconds before it blew high over the fence and on across the prairie. Ashum took another turn of the horse reins around the tree for safety as he watched the tumbleweed disappear over the horizon in a cloud of dust. Ashum pulled his black derby hat further down on his head, hoping to anchor it firmly from the strong wind gust as he glanced over the small crowd of onlookers.
Most of the group were Mexicans. Four soldiers and their captain from the nearby fort stood back apart from the group and just outside the fence. They were holding their horses and watching in a parade rest stance. The tall salt grasses was switching in the wind around their legs and the horses legs causing the horses to pound their feet occasionally.