The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  “Oh, that’s bad,” Pete said, throwing down his towel and coming out from behind the bar. “Where did you see him last?”

  “I took them toward the school and he started running.”

  “No telling where he is,” Pete said. “Can a few of you gents help us look for one of Jeter’s kids?”

  “Sure,” one of the customers said. “Those little girls are as sweet as honey. Wouldn’t want to see anything happen to one of them.”

  “It’s not the girls,” Pete said. “It’s the boy.”

  “Oh no, we’re not lookin’ for no Indian,” one of the other men said, “unless we can string him up.”

  “All right, the bar’s closed. I’d like to ask you to leave.”

  “You’re doing this for an Indian kid? You can just keep your damn bar closed forever as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Come on, Cetti. He has to be here somewhere. What was he wearing?”

  “A blue shirt. He was running toward the river. You don’t suppose that’s where he got to?” Cetti asked.

  “Well, let’s look there first,” Pete said.

  Pete and Cetti crossed the railroad tracks and ran down Second Street heading for the river. It was then that they saw two boys about ten or twelve years old, dragging Stone toward Hog Creek. When they got there, they drug him out in the middle and began holding Stone’s head under water.

  Pete Cahill had never run as fast in his life.

  He got to the creek and grabbed for Stone, pulling him out of the water. The child was lifeless. Pete turned him upside down and began hitting him on the back. Water began to gurgle out of Stone’s mouth, and soon he began to cough and sputter.

  Cetti took the child and held him in her arms. Never once did he cry.

  “What were you tryin’ to do?” Pete asked grabbing the two boys. “Don’t you know you could have killed this boy?”

  One boy shrugged his shoulders, but neither said anything.

  “How would you like it if I hold your heads under the water?” Pete asked as he applied pressure to the back of their necks.

  “No, no! We weren’t supposed to kill ‘im! Just scare ‘im is all.”

  “Did somebody put you up to this?”

  Both boys lowered their heads.

  “I can just bet who’s behind this,” Pete said looking around.

  On the bridge that crosses the Arkansas River, Kirk Jordan was leaning against the railing. When he saw Pete looking at him, he raised his hand and waved.

  “Come on Cetti, let’s get Stone home.” Pete took the boy into his arms and Stone buried his head against his shoulder.

  The Quahadi Village of Quanah Parker:

  The others in the village continued to laud Mean To His Horses, even as they held Straight Arrow in scorn.

  A hunting party had succeeded in killing four antelope which they cooked over a couple of campfires, and then distributed among all the People. After the warriors and the elders had eaten their fill, they allowed the women and children to eat.

  Now the men were gathered around the remaining fire as they discussed the situation that weighed heavily upon all of them.

  “Perhaps the soldiers will drive the white men away,” Black Horse suggested.

  “What makes you think they would do that?” Wild Horse asked.

  “The Medicine Lodge Treaty gave this land to us.”

  “The white men do not have to follow the treaty,” Standing Bear said.

  “Why? Because they are white,” Mean To His Horses said derisively.

  “No,” Standing Bear said. “The treaty was signed seven summers ago, but the People did not ratify it by our vote. Our brothers, the Kiowa, the Arapaho and the Cheyenne did not ratify it.”

  “What does ratify mean?” Wild Horse asked.

  “It is a white man’s word. It says that every man in every band should have a say if we accept what the government told us to do,” Standing Bear said. “We did not vote.”

  “I will never do what the white man tells us to do,” Wild Horse said.

  “I will kill more hunters,” Mean To His Horses said. “I will find them. When I see them not watching, I will swoop down like an eagle and kill them like they are old women.”

  “I will join you,” Wild Horse said.

  “And what of Straight Arrow?” Quanah asked. “Did he not lose six warriors at the hands of one man?”

  “Straight Arrow had bad medicine,” Mean To His Horses said. “I will bring good medicine.”

  “There are many white men who kill our buffalo,” Quanah said. “We must find a way to kill a lot of them at the same time. Not just one or two.”

  “I believe you say this because you know this cannot be done so you do nothing. You bring shame upon yourself and to our band,” Mean To His Horses said.

  “Mean To His Horses speaks the truth,” Black Horse said. “They have few men, one to kill the buffalo and one to cut off the robe and leave the meat.”

  “Yes,” Wild Horse said. “Quanah, you say we should kill many of them, but where do we find a place where many have gathered?”

  “Silver Knife and I know of such a place. We saw where the white men were building a village. It is said by the Camp Supply trader that the hunters gather there to sell their hides.”

  “But are there many hunters at this spot?” Wild Horse asked.

  Silver Knife smiled. “Our trader trades us guns and ammunition for our buffalo robes, and he trades us whiskey. The merchants from Dodge City trade robes for whiskey, too. Yes, there will be many hunters at this place where Adobe Walls Creek enters the Canadian.”

  “Yes,” White Eagle said, speaking for the first time. “To attack the whites at a place where many gather, and to defeat them, would show the whites that this land belongs to the People, and that they should go back beyond the Cimarron.”

  “But our village is small,” Black Horse complained. “If there are many hunters at this place, will we not lose many warriors as well?”

  “We will not be alone,” White Eagle said. “My medicine will protect us.”

  “That may be true,” Quanah said, “but we need to invite all the People to come join us. We will send runners to the Nokoni, the Kotsotekas, the Yamparikas, and even the Penateka who now plow the earth as the white man says.”

  “The bands of the Comancheria have never joined together. What makes you think they would come together for you, Quanah Parker?” Mean To His Horses asked.

  “Because we will invite them to a Sun Dance,” Quanah said.

  “A Sun Dance?”

  Wild Horse could not believe what Quanah Parker had just proposed. “Do you mean what you say? You want to have a Sun Dance?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Mean To His Horses said. “A Sun Dance is not of the People. This is a thing of the Kiowa, the Arapahos, and the Cheyenne— not of the Comanche.”

  “You are right, Mean To His Horses. The People have never done this. But our brothers claim the Great Power gives the whole tribe good medicine when they hold the Sun Dance. I can protect some of the People with my medicine, but a Sun Dance will give each of us the power to save himself,” White Eagle said.

  Quanah had not expected to have White Eagle as an ally when he had suggested the idea of the Sun Dance.

  “White Eagle speaks the truth,” Quanah said.

  “I do not understand,” Wild Horse said. “I have witnessed the Sun Dances of the Kiowa. We do not have a fetish doll to call the Great Spirit. The Cheyenne have a Sun Dance priest who has inherited the medicine bundle. Who will direct the Comanche Sun Dance?”

  “Do I not have the power to summon the Great Spirit? I, who rose to the sky to speak with our departed, will direct the Sun Dance,” White Eagle said.

  “It is decided. White Eagle will direct the Sun Dance. He and I will go together to the bands of the Comanche and invite all the People to gather at a place where the Sweetwater empties into the Red River,” Quanah said.

  17

>   “Is this the only buffalo gun you have?” Billy Dixon asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” James Langton said, “and I’ve promised it to George Causey when he comes in.”

  “Jimmy, this is our friend,” Charles Rath said. “I’ll tell you what. If you’ll agree to sell me your hides and not send them back to Dodge on your own, you can have this gun. I know it’s not a Sharps .50, but the Sharps .44 is a mighty fine gun.”

  “Ever the salesman, Charles,” Billy said picking up the rifle. “If I do that, this gun’s gonna cost me thousands of dollars.”

  “Then go buy one from Myers.”

  “You know he doesn’t have one on hand.”

  “Then take it or leave it. After all, Jimmy’s promised this gun to Causey and by rights, he can’t sell it.”

  “You’ve got me over a barrel,” Billy said. “Do you have anything for Cade?”

  “I’ve got a Spencer carbine,” Rath said. “It won’t work as well on buffalo, but it sure will kill an Indian if one’s headin’ your way.”

  “I’ll take it. Now what about a mule and a hat?”

  Charles laughed. “You’re in a bad way. We don’t have a mule to sell, but Jimmy here, can give you a hat.”

  “Thanks,” Billy said, his tone definitely showing he didn’t mean it.

  Billy left the Rath and Company store and headed for the corral to see if he could pick up either a mule or a horse. He would hate to buy a stolen horse, but at this point he would do anything to get back to the camp. There was no point in seeing if Tom O’Keefe had a wagon until he knew he had at least two animals to pull it out to the camp.

  When he got to the corral, Jacob Harrison and his drivers were maneuvering one of his big Murphy wagons into the yard. There was a pile of buffalo hides 100 yards long and ten feet high waiting to be loaded.

  “Billy, I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Jacob said as he stepped away from his place by the wagon.

  “Let me help you,” Billy said as he, too, began to push the big freight wagon. Their effort was an attempt to ease the strain on the two horses pulling the back end of the wagon into position.

  “I’d be gone if I had a horse and wagon.”

  “Oh, I forgot. Your wagon’s in the river and your mule’s dead.”

  “And our guns. Damn that Charles Rath. He wouldn’t sell me a gun unless I agreed to sell our hides to him,” Billy said. “Cade said you’d haul our hides back to Dodge for free.”

  “He said that, huh?” Jacob laughed. “Maybe I’ll have to jack up the freight on these hides so it’s just enough to cover your loss.”

  “That’d be great, but right now, I don’t have a way to bring in the hides we already have.”

  “Maybe Harrison and McCall can help you with that. How many hides do you think you have left?”

  “I’d say not more than two or three hundred,” Billy said. “Since Cade doesn’t have his Sharps .50, he’s not doing any killin’ while I’m here.”

  “Well, then, why don’t I hitch up the wagon Tom just repaired? We’ll take a team from each of the other wagons and go get your hides,” Jacob said.

  “I’d be much obliged if you’d do that, Jacob. Having Cade McCall as a partner has turned out to be a good investment.”

  “That goes for both of us.”

  On the Red River, West of the Kiowa-Comanche Reservation Border:

  Quanah Parker and White Eagle watched as close to 1,500 tipis were being erected on the banks of the Red River.

  “The People have gathered,” White Eagle said. “The Nokoni, the Kotsotekas, the Yamparikas, and the Penateka. They all come to the Quahadi. Our forefathers have tried to unite Comanche bands before us, but it is you, the greatest warrior, that has caused this to happen.”

  “We did it together,” Quanah Parker said. “The People believe your medicine.”

  White Eagle was forced to control a smile. “They do, don’t they?”

  Quanah’s face contorted into a frown. “You do have good medicine?”

  “We shall see. The Great Spirit will reward us because we are blowing the first puff of smoke toward the sun.”

  “But what of the other spirits? Those in the buffalo? The wolf? The tree? The rocks? Will those spirits leave the People?” Quanah asked.

  “No, my friend. All the spirits will come to the People. The spirits will make the People victorious.”

  “I hope what you say is true.”

  For the next week much effort was put into making the Sun Dance a success. While it was based upon the celebrations that the Kiowa, the Cheyenne and the Arapaho held, the Comanche were not forced to conform to the strict traditions that the other tribes observed.

  Much effort was spent in selecting the tree that would be used as the center pole for the Sun Lodge. The Comanche did not follow the other tribes in their treating of this pole as an enemy, thus forcing the warriors to count coup on the pole before it could be cut. They did, however, send an honored woman to cut it down, much as the other tribes did.

  In erecting the pole, according to tradition, they had to fail three times. When it was finally in place, the People hoisted a freshly killed buffalo stuffed with feathers to preside over the ceremony.

  Preparing the Sun Lodge was a four-day event. On the fourth day, four warriors were sent out to hide, each one covered with a shaggy buffalo skin. While they were in hiding, others went to the Sweetwater and covered their bodies, hair and faces with mud. These Mud Men as they were called rode through the village with bound willow sticks, swatting at all whom they could find.

  While the Mud Men were entertaining, other warriors were sent to locate the “herd.” When the disguised warriors were found they were brought back to the lodge.

  Upon completion of the erecting of the lodge, White Eagle called for all who intended to participate in the Sun Dance, to go to the river and bathe. While they were at the river, the women prepared beds made of sage along the walls of the lodge. A cedar screen was built in front of the beds to conceal the dancers when they were forced to rest.

  When the sun reached the noon position, those who planned to dance, sing or drum filed into the lodge. They all stomped their feet, causing the sound to reverberate throughout the encampment. When they were inside, the warriors retired behind the screens and applied paint to their bodies. When all was ready, a half-dozen older men took their places around a common drum and began to beat in unison.

  The singers began to chant, each warrior having his own song. When the warrior’s song was started, he emerged from behind the screen and began to recreate his most memorable feat, whether it be from a battle or from a hunt. In his mouth he had a whistle made from an eagle bone, and at the appropriate time in the song, he blew the whistle.

  Unlike the other tribes, the Comanche chose not to mutilate their bodies; however, it was an honor to dance until one fainted. The thinking was that if one danced to exhaustion, visions would come to those who succumbed. But it was pointed out that the purpose of this Sun Dance was to revive the People—to enable them to exterminate the white man—not to experience visions.

  On the last day, White Eagle and Quanah called all the warriors to sit around the lodge pole, while the drummers continued their rhythms. Much whiskey had been consumed and the words and the drums caused the warriors to be in a state of frenzy.

  “To use the white man’s word, we must ratify our revenge,” Quanah said. “We must decide where we will use our medicine.”

  White Eagle began speaking.

  “You have seen my strong medicine given to me by the Great Spirit. I can ascend into the sky and I can cough up bullets. This the Quahadi have witnessed. Did you not see that I told you when the great light in the sky would disappear, and did I now warn of the dry summer and the invasion of the grasshopper? Now I can cure the sick; I can bring the dead back to life. But my greatest gift—I can make the white man’s bullets fall to the ground.”

  With these words, there was much excitement.
r />   “We should go to war against the Texans.”

  “We should kill the soldiers who ride with Bad Hand.”

  “We should seek revenge for the 23 killed at Double Mountain Fork.”

  “We should go after our enemy the Tonkawa, who eat our people and teach the bluecoats our ways.”

  “We should kill the white hunters.”

  “We should wipe out the Texas Rangers.”

  Quanah Parker raised his hand to quiet the warriors.

  “We speak with many tongues. We must be united. We cannot do all that you have said.” Quanah paused. “Look around us; while all the Comanche have come together, we are too few to do what you say.”

  “Then why did we have the Sun Dance?” Wolf Tongue asked. “Did not the Great Spirit speak to White Eagle?”

  “This the Great Spirit did. On the morning of the third day from this day, we will council together with the great chiefs from the Kiowa, the Cheyenne and the Arapaho. Then we will decide if the People will join our brothers and go to war against the white man.”

  18

  Dodge City:

  Magnolia was in the bedroom with Chantal, Bella, and Stone. Chantal and Bella were sharing a bed; Stone was sleeping on a trundle that had been put in the corner of the same room.

  “Is Mary Lilajane asleep?” Chantal asked, inquiring about the baby.

  “Yes. She’s in her cradle.”

  “Does she need me to rock her to sleep?” Bella asked as she bounded out of bed.

  “Hold on, Missy,” Magnolia said as she grabbed her daughter. “I said she was asleep.”

  Bella cocked her head. “I think I hear her crying. I should go see her.”

  Magnolia shook her head. “I don’t think so. What Mary Lilajean wants is for her sisters to go to sleep.”

  “Stone’s not sleeping,” Chantal said. “He’s pretending.”

  “I don’t care,” Magnolia said. “Look how quiet he is. He’s such a good boy.”

  “Mama, do you love Stone more than you do us?” Bella asked.