by Sharon Sala
He began buckling the first mule into the gear as if nothing was different from any other day. He didn’t look up. He wouldn’t look around. He couldn’t let himself acknowledge the danger he was in and still do what he had to do.
“Okay, Letty, now hand me the other one.”
Letty handed over the rest of the harness as rain began to fall in earnest. Another shaft of lightning struck high on the hill above. The herd shifted en masse, moving slightly to the right, then slightly to the left, as if testing for the best track to run.
“Hurry,” Letty said, and then went over the side after Eulis, knowing that, if they survived, it would take both of them to make this work.
Working side by side, they finished harnessing up, then Eulis took a deep breath and looked at Letty.
“You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.
Eulis nodded, but still he hesitated. He looked at her then, studying her in a way he’d never done before, and saw past the hardened woman that life had repeatedly kicked in the teeth, to the little twelve year old girl, hiding in an abandoned badger hole from the Indians who’d killed her father. He thought of the nights after she’d grown up when she’d gone out onto the balcony of the White Dove Saloon to listen for the call of the Whippoorwill—keeping alive a ritual that her deceased mother had begun. She was a survivor who stood as tall as any man he knew.
“Uh… Letty?”
“What?”
“Just so you know… I ain’t sorry about nothin’.”
A lump of emotion swelled in Letty’s throat.
“Swear?”
He nodded. “Swear.”
“Then let’s do this,” Letty said.
They took the mules by their harnesses and slowly began moving through the herd to the front of the wagon. They had been exposed to the herd for so long that they’d taken on their scent and since the buffalo behind them sensed nothing foreign, and the ones in front had no way of knowing that the pressure to move forward was anything other than more of their own, the herd gave way and they had the mules in place. With shaking hands and silent prayers, they hitched the team to the wagon.
“All done. Now let’s see what happens,” Eulis said. When Letty started to walk around one of the mules to get into the wagon, Eulis grabbed her. “Stay between the mules,” he said.
“But the harness…”
“Step over or crawl under, but don’t get out from between these mules.”
She nodded, and slowly, they both made their way back to the wagon, then up into the seat.
It wasn’t until they were sitting high on the wagon that the herd saw them as something more than an object to walk around. They began pawing and snorting and more than one challenged their presence by going head on with the wagon or ramming a wheel. It was only a matter of time before the man-made wagon gave way to the bison’s might. Added to that, the rain was falling harder now. With less than an hour before sundown, time was not on their side. Thinking matters could not be worse, they were soon proven wrong.
Eulis flipped the reins, signaling the mules with a series of clucks to move forward. Nothing happened. Exhausted, dehydrated, and stressed to the point of hysteria, the mules wouldn’t budge.
Letty moaned as her shoulders slumped.
“We’re done for.”
Eulis sat for a moment, studying the situation. Then suddenly, he grabbed Letty’s shoulder and gave her a push.
“Get off the seat.”
“But—”
“Do it now!” he said, and shoved her backward into the wagon bed. Once she was down, he handed her the reins. “Hold on to these and no matter what happens to me… don’t let go!”
Letty grabbed the reins, watching in horror as Eulis climbed down from the seat, then slipped between mules until he was standing with a hand on either head. He rubbed the spot on their foreheads between their ears, then leaned forward and whispered something in each mule’s ear.
Eulis turned around once and looked straight into Letty’s face.
“We can do this,” he said.
“I’m right behind you,” Letty said.
Eulis was surprised by what those few words meant to him as he slipped his fingers beneath the straps and curled them tight around the leather.
“Come on, Rosy. Come on Blackie… let’s go.”
He made a clucking sound with his tongue and leaned forward, using his weight as well as the sound of his voice to urge them on.
At first nothing happened, then finally Rosy, the lead mule, took a step. Trained to follow, Blackie could do no less. The wagon’s creaking wheels and Eulis’s voice were lost in the wind and the rain.
And so they went, with Letty crouched down behind the seat with the reins wrapped tight around both wrists, and her feet braced against the back of the seat as Eulis led them through the tightly packed herd.
The rain was blowing horizontally now, pushed by the gust front of the oncoming storm. Ironically, the storm which they feared would detonate a stampede was also providing a distraction as it came upon them in full force.
Thunder rolled over them in a loud and long roar, deafening them to each other’s voices. There was nothing to be heard but the rain hammering against the animals’ backs, and the wail of the wind.
Eulis could smell the fear and anxiety of the herd, but the buffalo had gathered so tightly together that it was difficult to move any faster. His plan was to aim for the higher rim on the right—betting their lives on the fact that the herd would move with the rhythm and shape of the earth just as water seeks the lowest level. And so they went, moving through and with the herd while pressing constantly left and upward.
Letty rode with her feet braced beneath the wagon seat and a death grip on the reins. She could see the back of Eulis’s head through the space between the seat and the wagon bed, and she fixed upon that sight, knowing her life depended on his presence. She couldn’t let herself think of what it would mean if he suddenly disappeared—of knowing that he would be trampled beneath the herd. She knew it could happen, yet she couldn’t look away.
The downpour had flattened his hair to his face, while the brim of his old black hat, weighed down by the rain, had unrolled. He looked as trail-worn as she felt, but his shoulders were broad, and the last glimpse she’d had of his face had been one of determination. It occurred to Letty that Eulis Potter had changed in more ways than that of living under another man’s identity. The extra weight that he’d carried for years was gone. Deprivation and hard work had toned his muscles and lengthened his stride. He no longer shuffled when he walked, but moved with his head up, and his shoulders straight. His hair hung well below the collar of his shirt and he was days in need of a shave. He looked rough and was in serious need of a bath, as was she. But now that his personality was no longer numbed by liquor, she’d come to appreciate his sense of humor, as well as his convictions.
Eulis Potter—once a childhood victim of outlaw Kiowa Bill—then the drunken gravedigger of Lizard Flats—had, through a series of unbelievable circumstances—become his own man.
Letty didn’t know when she’d started depending on him—even trusting him—but it had happened. She knew, as surely as she knew her own name, that if they got out of this mess alive, it would be entirely due to him.
Then, when it seemed that nothing could get worse, she felt the first pebble of hail against her face.
“Thank you, Lord, for reminding us that you’re still in charge,” she muttered, and grabbed the reins even tighter.
As she did, it was as if the sky opened and hail spilled from the sky like marbles out of a can.
The mules bucked in harness. Caught unaware, Eulis lost hold and went down. One moment Letty was looking at the back of Eulis’s head and then he was gone.
“No!” she screamed, and jumped to her feet, hauling back so hard on the reins that she felt a bone break in her wrist. The pain was sharp, but nothing compared to the fear of losing Eulis.
The mules stopped. Hail fell so thick and so hard that Letty knew they were in danger of being killed. Still, she couldn’t let herself panic. Blocking out the pain in her injured wrist and the ice pellets peppering her, she tied off the reins, crawled over the seat, and slipped down between the rigging. The animals were bowed up with their backs to the force of the wind and their heads down, enduring what they couldn’t escape. Hail hit repeatedly against the back of Letty’s head and neck as she ducked between the mules in search of Eulis.
She saw him then, lying full length on his back between the mules legs while hanging on to the double tree with every ounce of strength he had left. She went down on her hands and knees, crawling between the harness and the mules legs without care for her own safety, and then grabbed him by the ankles.
“Are you hurt? Talk to me, Eulis… can you move?”
He groaned. Hail was hitting him in the face so hard he didn’t dare open his eyes. He wanted to turn loose and get up, but he was afraid if he let go that the mules would bolt and leave him behind to be trampled.
“Are we dead yet?”
Letty laughed to keep from crying. “No, you crazy man, not yet. But you need to get up. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m goin’ blind as we speak from this dad-blamed hail. Other than that, I reckon I’ll keep.”
Letty crawled over him and grabbed the harness.
“I’ve got the mules, but hurry.”
Eulis let go and pulled himself upright. For a moment, he and Letty were standing face to face. He saw her wincing as the hail pelted against her sunburned face, and knew that if they lived, it would be bruised tomorrow.
“Leticia, pardon me for sayin’ this, but you look like hell,” then he jammed his hat on her head and shoved her toward the wagon. “Get in and hurry.”
The hat was instant shelter, and Letty knew he would suffer for his thoughtfulness.
“Eulis, I—”
“Get in, and grab hold of them reins. I got a feelin’ we’re in for a rough ride.”
Letty scrambled past him. As she did, Blackie stepped sideways and came down on the top of Letty’s foot.
“Oh… oh Lord, you stupid critter, get off! Get off!”
She slapped the mule hard on the rear and moments later as it stepped sideways again, she was free. She started to hobble across the hitch when suddenly she was airborne. She felt hands at her waist, lifting her over the harness, and all but throwing her into the wagon seat. She came down hard on all fours, then screamed as a sharp pain went up her arm and out of top of her head. Suddenly, the wagon started to move. In a panic, she scrambled around, grabbed the reins, and braced herself.
“Are you there?” she yelled.
“I’m here,” Eulis said. “And I need you to hang on. We’re gonna make a run for it.”
She peered through the space between the wagon and the seat and saw that he’d mounted Rosy, the lead mule. He leaned forward, about to give her a swift kick in the flanks, when a lightning bolt shattered what was left of the herd’s control.
One moment they were moving slowly, and the next few seconds, Eulis and Letty were caught up in the rush as the herd began to run.
“Jesus, have mercy,” Letty cried, and wrapped the reins so tight around her wrists that her fingers soon went numb.
Eulis gritted his teeth and hung on for dear life while they were bumped and buffeted by the motion of the moving mass. He wasn’t certain if they were actually moving on their own power, or if they were being swept along by the stampede itself. But there was just enough light left for Eulis to see, and with every ounce of strength he had in him, he angled the team against the tide of the stampede, and began slowly moving them upward.
It seemed, to Letty, as if they ran forever. She knew that the sounds of the storm—of the rain and hail—and the thunder of the buffalo stampede would be forever etched in her memory. Just when she thought they could not run any more, she realized the horizon was no longer dark with buffalo, and there was nothing in front of them but the storm and the distant mountains. And to double their relief, the hail had either stopped, or they’d outrun it. Either way, it was over.
She saw Eulis raise up on Rosy and start hauling back on the reins. As he did, she planted her feet against the wagon bed, gritted her teeth against the oncoming pain, and did the same.
They stopped, but Letty never knew it. She’d passed out. When Eulis finally crawled down off the mule and staggered back to the wagon, he found her flat on her back and unconscious. Shot through and through with new fear, he crawled up into the wagon bed and pulled Letty up into his arms.
“Letty! Letty! Talk to me, girl!”
She groaned. “Eulis?”
He rocked back on his heels and then started to shake. She was alive. Thank God she was alive.
“Leticia… talk to me. Where do you hurt?”
“My hands,” she mumbled.
He looked down, then winced when he saw the reins wound around her wrists. Her fingers were swollen and bloodless and when he started unwinding the reins, she cried out in pain.
“My wrist… I think it’s broken,” Letty mumbled, then threw an arm over her face, trying to shelter herself from the rain.
Eulis tossed the reins aside, and then pushed her beneath the overhang of the wagon seat. It was somewhat of a shelter, but not enough. He looked around, grabbed the rain-soaked bedroll and shook it out, then draped it over the seat. The bulk of it hung down into the wagon, forming a makeshift tent. It wasn’t much, but it was the only protection he could offer.
Once he had it secured, he lifted a corner and peered in. She was lying curled up on her side and cradling her wrist against her chest. He felt like he needed to touch her, but couldn’t bring himself to make the move. It seemed too personal, and personal was a bridge they had never managed to cross. Instead, he cleared his throat and muttered.
“You did real good, Sister Leticia. Real good.”
Letty heard him talking, but she couldn’t focus on what he said.
“Are we dead yet?” she asked, unintentionally mimicking what he’d asked earlier.
He looked up at the sky and the passing storm, then back down into the valley where the disappearing herd was barely visible. The mules were standing spraddle-legged with their heads down and their sides heaving. Everything Eulis and Letty owned was soaked through and through, but they were still alive and breathing.
“No, Letty, we ain’t dead yet.”
“Did you hear a whippoorwill? I’ve been listening and listening for the call.”
He sighed. She was out of her head and it was no wonder. He felt a little crazy, himself.
“Yeah, I heard the whippoorwill. Listen close, honey. You’ll hear it, too.”
Then he dropped the cover back in place, picked up the reins, and sat down on the seat. The mules felt the tug on the reins and actually turned their heads and looked back, as if to say, you’ve got to be kidding.
“I know, I know,” he said. “It’s been an awful day, but if you could see your way to goin’ just a little bit further, I can promise you won’t be sorry.”
This time when he flipped the reins on their rumps and clucked his tongue, they moved. Slowly. But they moved, and by the time true dark finally came, Eulis had found a good campsite with plenty of water, and enough grass for the trail-weary mules.
Letty woke up to the scent of wood smoke and cooking meat and rolled out from beneath the wagon seat. Her wrist was aching something awful, she smelled worse than she hurt, and she needed to pee. But when she started to push herself up, her wrist gave way.
“Ow,” she cried.
Almost instantly, Eulis appeared, peering over the side of the wagon.
“You’re awake.”
“It appears so,” she said. “Can you help me out? I need to go.”
Eulis hauled her out without fuss and set her on her feet, then pointed toward the woods.
“There’s a little clearing behind those
bushes. When you’re done, I saved you some rabbit.”
Letty nodded, then stopped and watched Eulis as he walked away. When he bent over and tossed another stick on the fire, goose-bumps rose on the backs of her arms. She didn’t know this man. She’d known the drunk and had been perfectly comfortable with him. But she didn’t know her boundaries with this one.
At that moment, he turned around and caught her staring.
“Letty? You all right?”
She flinched. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Be right back.”
She stomped off into the woods, unaware that Eulis was now watching her. Finally, he sighed and looked away. When she came back, he was cutting up what was left of the rabbit for her to eat.
“Here,” he said. “Since you hurt your wrist, thought I better cut it up some for you.”
Letty didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
“How did you know it was hurt?” she asked.
“You told me,” he said.
“I did?”
He nodded.
She frowned. “What else did I tell you?”
He stared at her a bit and then grinned. “Don’t worry. I didn’t believe a word of it.”
She gasped.
He ignored that, too.
“Here. Sit down and eat. The rabbit needs salt, but what we had left dissolved in the storm.”
He handed her a tin plate and then poured her a cup of water.
Letty took the plate with her good hand, backed up to a rock and sat. Then she balanced the plate in her lap and began eating. After the first couple of bites, Letty realized how hungry she was, and soon finished off her share of the food.
“That was wonderful,” she said, and leaned back with a sigh.
“Yeah, it was good,” Eulis said, and then pointed into the darkness. “Thanks to the storm, there’s a pretty good run of water in that creek tonight. I reckon it’s safe enough to take a bath in, if you’re in a mind to take one.”
Letty groaned. “I would love one,” she said. “It will be wonderful to wash all over, again.”
Eulis squinted, and then looked away.