The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set
Page 66
Magpie looked at the medallion for a moment, then looked back at Cade. The expression on her face changed, but Cade was unable to read it.
“Where did you get this?”
“From Gentle Horse. She gave it to me and told me to find Spotted Wolf.”
“No.” Magpie shook her head vigorously. “Gentle Horse is dead.”
“I just left a woman who gave me this medallion. She had a child about four years old and she told me to give this to Spotted Wolf. She said her name was Gentle Horse,” Cade said.
“No. Gentle Horse not give you this. This is her medicine,” Magpie said.
“Well, all I can say is the woman said she was Gentle Horse,” Cade said. “She’s in a very bad situation, and if Spotted Wolf doesn’t care about her, I’ll go back and get her myself.”
“Where you see this woman?” Magpie asked.
“She was on Moore’s Creek with some whiskey peddlers who go by the names of Smith and Jones. If that really is her medicine, I’ll take it back to her when I go to rescue her,” Cade said, as he extended his hand.
“No. I give to Spotted Wolf. He will go to Moore’s Creek. If your Gentle Horse is not Spotted Wolf’s Gentle Horse, he will kill her.”
“Why? He can’t do that. The woman didn’t do anything.”
“If she steal this from Gentle Horse, Spotted Wolf will want revenge for his daughter.”
“His daughter? Yes,” Cade said. “Yes, I should have known she was his daughter.”
Cade was two days travel from the Agency when he stopped to water his horse. Dismounting he knelt beside the cool stream and dipped his canteen into the creek when he heard the buzz of a bullet snapping by. The bullet hit the water just as the sound of the shot reached him.
Cade’s first thought was that he was being shot at by Indians.
“How the hell did you miss him?” someone said, the voice clearly that of a white man.
Cade grabbed the reins to his horse, and pulled him across the stream and into a little stand of trees on the other side. There he snaked his Henry rifle from the saddle sheath, jacked a round into the chamber, then lay down behind a fallen tree trunk.
“Where did the son of a bitch go?” This was a different voice from the first one he had heard.
“He went into them trees,” a third voice said. The three men remained unseen in the trees on the opposite side of the creek.
“Hey, Mister!” the first voice called. “Come on out, we ain’t goin’ to hurt you none. We thought you was a Injun which is the only reason we shot at you.”
“Yeah, come on out ‘n we can do some tradin’. We got some coffee. Bet you’d like some ‘o that.”
None of the three had yet exposed themselves, and Cade didn’t answer.
“I don’t think he’s a’ believin’ you, Stump,” one of the other voices said.
“Is that right, Mister? I guess you figured us out, didn’t you?”
Cade remained quiet
“Tell you what, Mister. We don’t want to hurt you none. Truth is, we don’t even want your money. All we want is your horse. Turn him a’ loose, ‘n we’ll ride on out of here.”
“I’d be afoot then,” Cade called back, responding for the first time.
“Well, you are over there, ain’t you? Now we’re a’ gettin’ somewhere. You wouldn’t have that far to go. Baker, he’s got hisself a whiskey ranch no more ‘n five or six miles from here. You could walk there, ‘n more ‘n likely he’d sell you a horse so’s you could keep on to wherever it was you was a’ goin’.”
“You . . . you won’t hurt me?” Cade called. He was playing them now, waiting to see what opportunity might present itself.
“No, I promise you, we won’t hurt you. Like I said, all we’re a’ wantin’ is your horse.”
Cade stood up, doing so in a way that kept his rifle hidden behind his leg.
All three men stepped out into view. All three were holding weapons in their hands, but none of the rifles were pointed directly at him.
“What kind of gun are you packin’?” one of the men asked. This was Stump’s voice.
“You ain’t a’ goin’ to take my pistol, are you?” Cade asked, putting as much fear and uncertainty into his voice as he could.
“Throw it into the creek, then send your horse across,” Stump said. “Once we’re gone, you can pick up your gun again.”
Cade tossed his pistol forward, but not far enough for it to fall into the creek.
“Oh, I didn’t throw it far enough,” he said. “Want me to pick it up ‘n throw it again?”
“No, no, just leave it there ‘n start your horse across.”
Cade slapped his horse on the rump and it started toward the edge of the creek. He kept his eyes on Stump and saw Stump start to bring his rifle up to his shoulder.
Moving so quickly that he caught all three men by surprise, he jerked his own weapon up, squeezing the trigger even before the butt of the rifle was against his shoulder. Stump went down, the action so unexpected that the other men were unable to react quickly enough to stop Cade from levering two more rounds into the chamber and pulling the trigger.
Even before the final echoes of the shots returned, the three men lay dead on the ground.
Cade whistled for his horse, and it returned. Mounting he rode by the three men, glanced down toward them, then continued his ride toward the Cimarron and his rendezvous with Jacob and the others.
8
Cetti Marcelli sat at the piano in the Red House Salon. A gray-haired woman sat beside her as Cetti was practicing her music.
“No, no, dear. It goes faster,” Demova Fenton said. She began clapping her hands as she sang the chorus. “Yes, we’ll gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river; gather with the saints at the river, that flows by the throne of God.”
“Do you think the Slater brothers are rolling over in their graves—church music in the Devil’s Den?” Jeter asked.
“Jeter, don’t even mention those names in this place,” Magnolia said. “That’s all behind us.” She smiled at Cade who was sitting at the table with them. “I am very happy, today.”
“I’m glad,” Cade said. “I know that Arabella would be pleased that you and Jeter are now the legal guardians of Chantal.”
“You did the right thing, Cade,” Jeter said, “and honestly I don’t know what Bella would do if you ever did separate the two girls. When one starts to talk, the other one finishes the sentence.”
“I’m not going to abandon my responsibility to take care of her, just as I promised Arabella I would, but she needs a home.”
“As long as we’re together, that’s what she’ll have, and soon she’s going to have a little brother,” Jeter said as he patted his wife’s enlarging stomach.
“Jeter, you say that all the time. I say it’s a girl,” Magnolia said.
“Well whatever it is, it’s going to be loved,” Cade said.
The door opened, and Jacob Harrison came in.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Jacob said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “Are you ready for another run to Adobe Walls?”
“Is that what they’re calling the place?” Jeter asked.
“Yes. Ed and Fuzzy got in a little while ago with no problems,” Jacob said.
“Then if the boys are making the trips all right, why did you ask if I was ready for another run?” Cade asked.
“Because guess who else is moving his outfit to the Panhandle?”
“Let me think,” Cade said, putting his finger to his temple. “Who would be losing money if the buffalo hunters start selling all their hides to Charlie Myers?”
Jacob laughed. “You’re thinking right. Robert M. Wright and Charles Rath are moving to the Canadian.”
“And they want Harrison and McCall to help move them.”
“That’s right, but of course Rath and Wright aren’t actually going. They’ve hired James Langton to be in charge,” Jacob said.
“When do w
e go?”
“They say they want to be set up ready to buy hides by the middle of May, so I’d say we’ll leave by next week.”
“Cade, do you have to go?” Magnolia asked speaking for the first time. “There will be Indians, and they aren’t always going to be friendly.”
“That reminds me,” Jacob said, “Fuzzy McKnight said Spotted Wolf sent word he wants to see you. He’s camped on Mulberry Creek.”
“I’m glad he didn’t come in to Dodge,” Jeter said. “Do you remember when we had to open up the wall of Fringer’s Apothecary to get him away from Kirk Jordan?”
“Of course, I remember,” Cade said, “especially when your mom hid him under her bed.”
“That man is still around Dodge City,” Magnolia said. “He would’ve killed Spotted Wolf for no reason if we hadn’t helped him.”
“Kirk Jordan would kill any Indian he runs across, no matter what he’s done. He thinks he can because some Indian killed his brother up in Nebraska,” Jeter said.
Cade started out the next morning at daybreak on his way to Mulberry Creek. He was sure this meeting involved Gentle Horse, and he was hopeful, Spotted Wolf had rescued her from “Smith and Jones”.
John Smith and Jim Jones.
Who made up names like that to hide from the law? At least Amon Kilgore and Fred Toombs had chosen distinctive names, but in the end, what difference did it make?
Of all the people Cade had killed, and there were many, Amon Kilgore and Fred Toombs were the most despicable and that was saying something. Not those he killed in battle, not the man he killed on board the Fremad, not those he killed in Wichita, not the Slater brothers—none of those summoned up the hatred that he had for Kilgore and Toombs.
Even now, he became angry thinking about what they had done to Arabella and Magnolia. And when he had seen Gentle Horse, everything that had happened to his wife came back to him. If Spotted Wolf hadn’t killed Smith and Jones already, Cade decided he would go after them. No woman, even if she was an Indian, should have to endure what was happening to her on Moore Creek.
As he rode on, the solitude of the morning cleared his head. He couldn’t go kill them. He didn’t have a personal vendetta against Smith and Jones, and if he killed them because of Gentle Horse, he would be accused of being an Indian lover. That would mean the Kirk Jordans of the world would come after him.
In the distance, he saw an Indian encampment. He assumed it would be Spotted Wolf’s, but just to be careful, he withdrew his Henry rifle and jerked a round into the chamber. As much as he wanted to trust Spotted Wolf, he would not ride into this camp without being prepared.
Looking up, he saw a rider coming toward him. When he got close enough, he saw that it was George Bent. The rifle went back in the sheath and he urged his horse to a gallop as he closed the distance between them.
“I was about to give up on you,” George said. “Spotted Wolf was going to break camp today.”
“Jacob just told me he wanted to meet with me, yesterday,” Cade said. “What’s this about?”
George smiled. “Gentle Horse. Because of you, he got his daughter back.”
“I’m glad. What about Smith and Jones?”
“They won’t be takin’ anymore women,” George said.
“Did he kill them?”
“Not yet, but he will,” George said. “He’ll choose the right time—the time when it’ll cause the most trouble.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t want to be either one of those two right now,” Cade said.
“Which brings me to what’s gonna happen today.” George stopped. “Don’t even think about not goin’ along with what Spotted Wolf says, or you’ll be joining Smith and Jones.”
“What have I let myself in for?” Cade asked.
“You’ll see.” George spurred his horse and rode on ahead of Cade. “Whatever Spotted Wolf tells you, you agree, if you want to walk away from here.”
George led Cade into the camp where at least a dozen lodges had been erected. Several children were dabbling in the water of Mulberry Creek while others were hiding behind mounds of sand that they were using as imaginary breastworks. Cade hoped that Gentle Horse’s son was among the children.
As he ventured into the opening between the lodges, he saw two rows of men seated on the ground opposite each other. One man was singing a chant while he was keeping time on a small hand drum.
Cade listened to the rhythmic cadence: Na . . . na . . . he . . . na . . . ha . . . ha . . . ya.
George turned and explained. “The gambling song for the hands game. You’ll probably be asked to join.”
Cade nodded his head, then he saw Spotted Wolf rise from his place on the ground. Getting off his horse he extended his hand to the old man.
A big smile was on Spotted Wolf’s face. “Nia’ish. Thank you,” he said. “Two times, you help Spotted Wolf. I not forget. You saved me—you saved my daughter.”
“What about your grandson? Is he all right?”
“Gentle Horse’s boy is here. He is not my grandson. He is a white man’s grandson.”
Cade nodded his head not knowing what to say.
“You know Black Bird, my son.” He pointed to one of the men seated on the ground. “His sons, Wild Wind and Leaning Bear. Those are my grandsons. Come. Hamestoo’estse. Sit down.”
“It looks like you’re going to learn hands right now,” George Bent said. “Don’t be surprised if you lose your shirt. The Cheyenne take their gamblin’ seriously.”
“How does the game work?”
“There are two bones—one has a string on it and the other is plain. You’re supposed to guess which hand has the marked one in it.”
“Then it’s fifty-fifty that you’re going to win,” Cade said.
“Or lose,” George said with a laugh. “See the bones in the middle. When one of you has all ten of the bones, the other one loses.”
Spotted Wolf indicated that Cade should sit opposite Black Bird, and the game began. Cade was not sure what he had bet, but he sat down. The bones in the center were traded back and forth as first he would guess correctly and then Black Bird would win. The game went on for several hours, and Cade was getting the hang of how to anticipate which hand would be the one Black Bird used to hide the stone. Cade had nine stones. One more and he would win whatever it was he had bet on. Three more hands were played, and Black Bird won each of them.
And then the unthinkable happened. Black Bird dropped one of the stones from his hand. He was obviously angry as he rose and stomped off.
“What happened?” Cade asked as he turned to George.
“He lost. If you drop a stone, you lose automatically.”
Black Bird came back leading a horse. He handed the reins to Cade.
“What?” Cade questioned. “We were betting on a horse?”
“Yeah. He said mo’ehno’ha. That’s horse,” George said. “I thought you knew.”
“No, I didn’t. My interpreter said I might lose my shirt. He didn’t say anything about losing my horse.”
When the game was over, and the winners had claimed their winnings, the women brought food for the men. Gentle Horse approached Cade. She was wearing a dress made of tanned deer skin.
“I’m glad you’re back with your father,” Cade said as he accepted the pemmican from Gentle Horse. He knew she could speak English, but she did not address him, lowering her gaze to keep from making eye contact. He shrugged his shoulders, accepting that she would not speak to him.
The men ate alone, and George told him the names of those who had been gambling: Horse Teeth, Spots on the Feathers, Walking on the Ground, Coyote, Six Feathers, Black Moon, Rolling Bull, Two Crows, and of course, Black Bird.
Black Bird was clearly agitated after having lost to Cade, and the others seemed to be teasing him.
“I think it’s time for me to get back to Dodge,” Cade said as he rose to his feet.
“Not so fast,” George said. “You and Black Bird are going to have another
go at it. He’s not goin’ to let a white man beat him.”
“Not the hands game again,” Cade said. “I don’t have another three hours.”
“It won’t be. He’s chosen the kicking game.”
“Don’t I have a say in this?”
“Afraid not. Here comes Gentle Horse with your moccasins.”
Cade put on the moccasins and waited to see what would happen next. Immediately Black Bird jumped up in the air, kicking sideways, knocking Cade to the ground.
“I understand this game,” Cade said getting to his feet and going after Black Bird.
“No, no hands!” George yelled. “You’ll lose if you touch him.”
Cade and Black Bird continued kicking at one another for several minutes each one getting in some strong hits. Black Bird was more agile than Cade and soon Cade was exhausted. He staggered to his feet one more time and again Black Bird knocked him down.
“If you want to quit, just stay seated, and that ends it,” George yelled.
“And what do I lose? My horse?”
“This time he’d get his horse back.”
“All right, then I’m done.” Cade folded his arms around his legs and looked up at a smiling Black Bird.
“Hena’haanehe” Black Bird extended his hand to help Cade to his feet. “That’s enough.”
Gentle Horse held Black Bird’s horse and he took the reins and led him away.
“Cade McCall, you’re a good man,” Spotted Wolf said. “You’re a friend to my people. Gentle Horse has a gift for you.”
Cade looked to where Gentle Horse had been standing but she was gone. Soon she appeared with her son beside her. She was carrying something in her hand that was the stalk of the red cocklebur.
She smiled looking directly at Cade.
“Eat.”
Cade took the stalk from her and took a bite. He found it to be sweet and tender.
“Thank you, this is very good.”
Gentle Horse pushed her son toward Cade.
“Your son, now. His name Stone Forehead.”
Cade’s eyes opened wide.