Gold on the Hoof

by Peter Grant

  “It is good to see Laughing Raven once more. I hear you are a Dog Soldier now.”

  The Indian set the rifle sleeve across his saddle, and signed in his turn, “Yes. It is good to see you, too, Brings The Lightning. I have often thought about you. The medicine of my grandfather, which you gave to me, has done good things for me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Do those men follow you?”

  “Yes, they follow me. We look for the herds of buffalo, that we may guide our people to them for the summer hunt.”

  “Have you found many?”

  “Not yet.” The Indian scowled. “We know many have been killed by the men with long rifles, who leave all their meat to rot and take only their hides and tongues. We shall surely kill any of them we meet. You are not hunting buffalo, are you?”

  “No, we are not. I have been in Mexico, buying horses for my ranch. We are on our way home to Colorado.”

  “I remember you were on your way there when we first met, nine years ago. Have you made a home there for yourself and your wife, as you wished?”

  “I have.” Walt didn’t bother to explain that his first wife had since died, and that he’d just remarried. He went on, “I am worried for you and your people. If there is a fight between you and the buffalo hunters, it may spark a bigger war that will engulf many people. Can there not be peace in this land?”

  “Not so long as the men with long rifles cross into our territory to hunt. They are breaking your laws and ours when they do so. We shall stop them, no matter what.”

  Walt sighed. “If I were in your shoes, I should probably feel the same. However, I warn you as a friend: the bluecoats have just received many thousands of horses, and they are preparing. I do not want to see you hurt or killed.”

  Laughing Raven shrugged, a very European gesture, Walt thought. His fingers flew in a rapid succession of signs. “I must protect my people, and to do that, I must protect our hunting grounds. Without the buffalo, we are nothing. Their flesh feeds us, their hides shelter and clothe us. We cannot see them destroyed like this.”

  “I understand. I hope you will be safe, if it comes to that.”

  “I hope you will be safe too. I see your left hand is gone. Was that in war?”

  “It was fighting bad men, outlaws. I lost my hand, but the man who took it lost his life.”

  “You did better than he, then.” The Kiowa hesitated, then went on, “It will be best if you leave this place quickly. Many are gathering, Comanche, Kiowa and others. All are determined to stop the slaughter of the buffalo, and turn back the invasion of our land by white settlers. If we do not do so now, it will be too late. I would not like you, my friend, whom Satank also called friend, to be caught up in that.”

  “I thank you. I will be gone from here as soon as I can take my horses north.”

  Laughing Raven nodded. “They are good horses. I can see that even from this distance.”

  Walt smiled. “If you wait here, I shall show you.”

  Interest flickered on the Kiowa’s face. “I shall wait.”

  Walt turned his horse, and cantered back to the herd. As he approached, he called, “Sam, catch me that big roan stallion, quick!” He pointed at it.

  The former buffalo soldier uncoiled his lariat and made a quick hooley-ann throw to snare the stallion. The sixteen-hand horse was one of those Pablo’s men had bought in Mexico, high-spirited and in excellent condition. Sam led it clear of the herd, while Walt fetched a hackamore from his wagon. He put the hackamore on the stallion, returned the lariat, then headed back towards Laughing Raven, leading the stallion behind him.

  He drew up next to him, handed him the hackamore, then began signing again. “As a token of the friendship between us, please accept this horse. He will serve you well.”

  Laughing Raven’s eyes glittered. The roan was larger than his horse, and better configured. It was a mount worthy of a chief. He hesitated, frowning. “I thank you, but I have no gift to give you in exchange.”

  “You have one gift in your power. If you remember, Satank gave my wife and I, and those traveling with us, the gift of free passage through the rest of the Kiowa hunting grounds in Kansas. You could do the same, and send word to your people to let us pass freely. We mean them, and you, no harm, after all.”

  The Kiowa’s frown cleared. “That is true. I remember, and I shall give you the same gift. I shall pass the word to the rest of my people to let you go in peace. However, do not come back this way. My word will not protect you if the war clouds gather.”

  “I thank you. May the Great Spirit protect you and yours.”

  “And you.”

  In the Indian way, Laughing Raven did not say goodbye. He wheeled his horse and trotted back towards his men. The roan stallion whickered, but followed behind him without fighting the hackamore.

  Walt watched him go, then cantered back to the herd. Colleen rode forward to join him, and Nastas and Vicente followed them to where the sergeant was waiting. Walt told them all what Laughing Raven had said. “Looks like there’s gonna be fightin’ for sure this summer,” he finished somberly. “I’m glad we’ll be outta here before the buffalo herds arrive. Once they do, the place is gonna be full of Indian hunting parties. It’ll only take one spark to turn ’em into war parties overnight.”

  The sergeant spat expressively to one side. “Yeah, and with this patrol havin’ only twenty men, we ain’t strong enough to stop ’em ridin’ right over us an’ stealin’ all our hosses. I’m glad that Injun said he’d pass the word to let us go. I’ll ask you to tell the Commanding Officer at Fort Union what he said to you.”

  “I’ll do that. Now, let’s get going. The sooner we reach the fort, the happier I’ll be!”

  As the wagons and horses got under way again, Colleen asked, “Why did you give him one of your breeding stallions? That was a very good horse.”

  “It was, but keeping the peace with Laughing Raven and his Kiowa was more important. By giving him just one horse, but a real good one, it was clear I was giving a gift to a friend, rather than paying some sort o’ tribute to a more powerful enemy. He felt obliged to give me summat in exchange. That’s what I was hopin’ for, so I asked him in return to pass the word to let us go through in peace. He agreed. The last thing I want is to have a mess o’ Kiowa or Comanche runnin’ off with all our horses, not to mention what they might do to you.”

  She shivered. “Papa fought the Kickapoo and Lipan Apache in Mexico, and he’s told me something of what they used to do to people they captured. If the gift of a horse helps keep us safe from that, it’s worth it.”

  “I reckon so. Besides, I’ve got other stallions, includin’ four I bought from your father. They’re even better than the one I gave away.”

  She frowned, puzzled. “Four? You bought five of them.”

  “Yeah, but Nastas will get one. He’s more than earned it.”

  16

  Major Price, commanding officer of the 8th Cavalry detachment at Fort Union, greeted Walt, and listened attentively to his report on his encounter with Laughing Raven. When Walt had finished, he grunted expressively, and moved across to a big map on the wall of his office. Walt followed him.

  “They’re coming south and west out of the Indian Territory,” he said, tracing their direction of travel from the reservation near Fort Sill, four hundred and fifty miles away. “My scouts have already reported at least ten bands of Comanche and Kiowa. Your Laughing Raven’s the eleventh. You say he warned you they’ll paint for war if the buffalo hunters cross the boundary into their lands?”

  “He was real firm ’bout that, sir. They won’t stand for any more of it.”

  “Then it’ll be war,” the officer said flatly. “We simply can’t stop every skin-hunter. More of them than ever are headed this way, because they’ve shot out the herds further north. There’s too much money to be made from buffalo hides. They’ll keep coming, and they’ll cross the line, and next thing you know we’ll be hip-deep in angry Indians.”

/>   Walt sighed, but said nothing.

  “We’re going to need all those fine horses you brought us from Mexico,” the officer went on, turning back to his desk. “We’ll at least be well mounted if it comes to a fight. It’s likely to be long-drawn-out and cover a wide area, so we’ll go through remounts real fast. You might be able to sell us a couple thousand more by this time next year.”

  “In that case, Major, I suggest you write or wire to Pablo Gomez in El Paso. He brought in many of ours, and he’s staying on there to get more as you need them.”

  Major Price wrote Pablo’s name and address in his daybook. “I’ll keep that in mind, and pass the word to our horse buyers. I think we’ll have business for him, come the fall. Now, let’s deal with your bank drafts.” He frowned. “Do you know how much trouble you put us to, by insisting on payment in gold when you returned here? Couldn’t you have simply deposited the government drafts in your bank account?”

  Walt shook his head. “I realize it was a lot of work for you, sir, but look at it from my side. My bank tells me it’ll take three to six months for the U.S. government to pay those drafts. Until that happens, they won’t credit the funds to my account. I’ve got businesses to run. I can’t afford to wait that long to have money to spend.”

  The Major’s attitude softened. “I didn’t know it took that long. I suppose you had to do it this way, then – but it was a lot of extra work for us. We had to apply for the gold six months in advance. It took a special escort to bring it from Washington D.C. all the way out here, plus a second special shipment a few weeks ago, after Colonel Mackenzie asked General Sheridan to authorize more money for remounts.”

  Walt grinned. “If it took the Department of War six months to get the gold to you, I guess that explains why my bank couldn’t get it any faster.”

  Major Price shook his head ruefully. “I can hardly argue with that!”

  Walt handed over the bank drafts, in exchange for almost $60,000 in double-eagle twenty-dollar gold coins. They weighed in at over two hundred pounds, so he had to get several Army NCO’s to help him carry the leather satchels back to his wagon. Colleen made space for them between her trunks, and he stacked them carefully out of sight.

  “Best be careful,” a sergeant warned him as he handed over his satchel. “If folks find out what this is, you’ll have every thief, road agent and grifter in the Territory after you.”

  “That’s why we’re armed, and I’ve made sure my men know how to use their guns.”

  The sergeant looked around, and a smile came to his face. “You’ve sure got enough of them. I reckon you c’n make a mighty good case for keepin’ the money, iffen you have to.”

  “Yeah. After all, I paid a lot o’ money for all this breeding stock. The horses are gold on the hoof. Compared to them, looking after gold in a wagon is pretty easy!”

  They stayed at Fort Union for three days, to rest the horses and prepare for the last stretch to Walt’s ranch in the Wet Mountain Valley. Those who’d left there with him in November had by now covered between one-and-a-half and two-and-a-half thousand miles, depending on where in Mexico they’d been sent. They’d been on horseback for between eighty and a hundred and forty days, and were very tired of life on the trail. They longingly expressed their desire to get home, and stay there for a while. The estancia workers had traveled less far, many in wagons rather than on horseback, but were no less eager to settle down.

  Walt decided to take a westerly route via Taos and Fort Garland, keeping as far away from the Texas Panhandle and Indian hunting grounds as he could. It would add an extra day or two’s travel, but the greater safety afforded by distance from the disputed area would be worth it. Nastas looked at the map as he traced out the route, and nodded his approval.

  “If you will allow,” he said in Spanish, so that his men could understand as they gathered around, “I would like to leave you at Taos and head west to our home. It will shorten our journey. We can deliver our horses, see our families, and rest for a week or two. Some of my men will want to stay there, but others will come back to your ranch with me, and more will join us. We can be with you by the middle of June. Will that be soon enough for the Army, do you think?”

  “I hope so. I don’t know whether or when they’ll send me a message, but I can’t think it’ll be too quickly. They won’t mobilize for action until there’s been some incident that warrants it. I’d say July or August is more likely.”

  “Then we shall spend more time with our families, and join you by the end of June. We shall visit Blanca Peak, and help you with your horses, and learn from the workers you brought from Mexico. The estancia’s herd is proof they know more than any of us about how to breed and raise the Spanish line.”

  “I agree. When we reach Taos, all of you can choose your horses. Each scout has four horses comin’, and the herd boys two apiece. You’ve got ten mares and a stallion coming from the estancia’s herd as well, plus seventy-two horses to pay for the breeding stock you brought me, and your group leader’s pay an’ bonus, too. I’ll give you another five hundred dollars to help with food and travel expenses goin’ home, an’ comin’ back to Colorado. Oh – and I’ll give you that Winchester 1873 carbine for Isom. I had the woodworker in El Paso make another deeper fore-end when he made one for my carbine. All Isom will have to do is transfer the ring for his hook from his old 1866 model to the new one. I’m also gonna give you the last one of those good red blankets we took from the Comancheros. It’s for the new baby. Doli can cut it up and sew it to the right size.”

  Nastas beamed with pleasure. “I thank you, for myself, and my men, and for Isom and Doli. You are very generous. I wish all white men were as you are.”

  “No, you don’t. You’d get so tired of so many people like me, you’d scalp us all!”

  That evening, he told Colleen of the arrangements. She entirely approved. “They’re good people. How did you persuade them to come and work on your ranch for a while, and come to Mexico with you?”

  “They get restless and frustrated on the reservation. Isom solved that for Nastas’ family when he married his daughter, and brought all of them to live on his spread; but there are plenty more who don’t have that outlet. Nastas was real grateful that we rescued his daughter. He promised to sell me breeding stock. When the time came, he asked if he could bring some other Navajo with him, to let them learn about raising horses on my ranch. I said sure, and invited him to bring them to Mexico too. I offered to pay them in horses. They jumped at the chance. O’ course, the fact they might end up in a fight or two didn’t hurt none. They’re still warriors at heart, after all.”

  “So Nastas gained status as a warrior through fighting those bandidos with you?”

  “Yes, and all the Navajo did from the fight against the Comancheros. If we scout for the Army later this year, they’ll gain even more. Nastas’ll have no trouble getting his pick of the other Navajo to come with him.”

  “Scout for the Army? And you said ‘we’? How are you involved?” Colleen’s voice was suddenly dubious.

  “Uh… this was agreed before I met you, love. Sorry – I plumb forgot to tell you. Colonel Mackenzie is thinkin’ o’ using Navajo scouts if he takes the field later this year. He asked me to go along with ’em as a sort o’ chief scout, to help ’em understand what the Army wants.”

  “Won’t that be dangerous?”

  Walt shook his head. “I don’t think so. We ain’t gonna be takin’ part in any charges. Scouts find where the enemy’s at and tell the main body, then sit back an’ watch while they do the work. I don’t reckon it’ll be all that risky.”

  “Well… I hope you’re right. I can’t say I’m happy, but if you promised Colonel Mackenzie before you met me, there’s not much to be done. Just be careful!”

  “I will, honey. I’ve got you to live for now.”

  “All right. Now, there’s something else I’ve been wondering about. What’s your house like, on the ranch?”

  Walt shook hi
s head. “I don’t have one. I built small apartments for Nate, my ranch manager, and myself in the administration building. I reckoned I’d wait to build a proper house until I had a wife who could help design it the way she wanted it.”

  Colleen dimpled. “That was sweet of you! We’ll do that together – but where will we live in the meantime? Not in the wagon, I hope? And what about in Pueblo?”

  Walt shook his head. “I have another apartment there, in the administration building of the transport company. It’ll be too small for both of us. We’ll rent or build a house there, too. I already have a site. Rose and I bought it together, but she died before we could build.”

  He sent two telegraph messages the following morning. One was to Nate at the ranch, asking him to prepare whatever accommodation was available for the estancia workers, and begin planning where to build their new homes. The other was to Samson Moses, manager of the freight yard in Pueblo, asking him to send a good-quality double bed out to the ranch as quickly as possible. His wife should choose and ship good-quality bedding, dressers, and other basic furniture a couple would need. He was also to reserve a room for them at a good hotel near the freight yard, and another two rooms for Guillermo, Sancho, Edelmira and Maria. Walt would pay for the family’s accommodation while they looked for a house, which he’d buy for them.

  “We’ll have an architect draw up plans for both our homes, in town and at the ranch,” he promised Colleen. “No cheap shacks for us!”

  “How will you get the materials out to the ranch, and all the fittings and fixtures?”

  “Well, I know a man who owns a transport outfit. I reckon I can persuade him to help us.”

  She giggled. “I know what! I’ll bribe him to help us, by sleeping with him.”

  He opened his eyes wide in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!”

  “You bet I would, buster!”