“I’ll get the spare wheel from the wagon,” Pen Rhodes said. “Jed and Stoney can help me remove and replace the broken one.”
Nobody said what all of them were thinking, that should this need arise again, there would be no spare wheel. Will shoveled away mud until he reached solid ground beneath the wagon’s axle. Jed got the jack in place and began jacking up the wagon.
“When you’re done, put that broken wheel in the wagon,” said McCaleb. “When we’ve got a little time, maybe some of us can fix it.”
“You’ll likely be needin’ another wheel before you can fix that one,” Monte said.
Nobody said anything, but Monte drew hard looks from some of the riders. Rebecca bit her tongue, while Rosalie was shaking her head at Penelope. The wheel was replaced, and the drive moved on. The water Goose had found was no more than a creek, but the water was swift-running and cold. The broken wagon wheel had cost them some time, and sundown was only minutes away when the riders had unsaddled their horses and unhitched the mules from the chuck wagon. Susannah, Rosalie and Penelope soon had the supper fire going, and McCaleb spoke to them.
“I think you’d do well to douse that fire as soon as you can. If we haven’t already, we will be crossing the old Bozeman Trail. It runs north, right through what was once the Sioux hunting grounds. We think they’re all gathering in the Dakotas, but we can’t be sure of that.”
But there was no sign of the Sioux. Disaster struck just after midnight, when one of the steers began bawling, creating a fearful commotion. The panic spread to the two teams of chuck wagon mules, and they lit out at a gallop, taking the horse remuda with them. The first watch had just started to unsaddle their horses and the second watch was already with the herd when the cattle rose to their feet.
“Ride,” McCaleb ordered. “They’re gonna run!”
But the herd had caught the fever from the frightened mules and horses, and there was no stopping them. McCaleb managed to get ahead of them, waving his hat and firing his Colt, but it made no difference. Heads down, they thundered on, and McCaleb was forced out of their path. Some of the riders came together, discouraged.
“Of all the rotten luck,” said Will. “What in hell started that?”
“Brazos has gone to look around,” Penelope said helpfully.
“A varmint of some kind, I reckon,” said McCaleb. “It’s not likely Brazos will find any tracks, with no moon.”
But Brazos didn’t need tracks. When he returned, he knew what had happened.
“Dead cow,” Brazos said. “When some of the others smelled blood, we didn’t have a chance to stop them from running. Looks like the work of a grizzly, and the natural smell of him didn’t help the situation.”
“He didn’t have time to sample his kill,” said McCaleb. “The rest of you go back to your blankets. Those of us on the second watch will stake out the remains of that cow, in case the grizzly returns. Just out of hibernation, he’s likely half starved.”
“I’m going to stay with the second watch,” Penelope said. “I’ve never had a chance to shoot at a bear before.”
“And you’re not gonna get a chance this time,” said Brazos. “You haven’t slept a wink all night, and we have to start our gather in the morning. The bear may not come back, and you’ll be more useful when we go looking for the stock. A cowboy does what needs doin’, remember?”
“Yes, sir,” Penelope said meekly.
McCaleb, Monte, Jed and Stoney staked themselves out within sight of the dark hulk that was the dead cow. Their Winchesters were ready, but there was no sign of the bear that had caused all the trouble. Rebecca had stirred up the coals and put some coffee on to boil, and when it was ready, she called to McCaleb.
“Jed, you and Stoney go ahead,” said McCaleb. “I doubt the grizzly will be back, but if I’m wrong, two of us can handle him.”
“Settin’ here watching a dead cow don’t make any sense at all,” Monte complained. “You don’t even know if the damn bear’s comin’ back.”
“You’re part of the second watch,” said McCaleb, “and I say the second watch will be here until first light, watching the carcass of that cow.”
But the bear didn’t return, and at first light, the outfit gathered for breakfast.
“I reckon there’s a bright side to all this,” Will said. “The stampede went the direction we was headed, anyway.”
“That’s the only good news,” said McCaleb. “The bad news is, they’re not going to find any graze unless they drift to the south, and the farther south they’ve gone, the more time it’ll take us to gather them and return to the place where we are now.”
“We know what the problem is, McCaleb,” Monte Nance said. “What do you aim to do to fix it?”
“I don’t have to answer to you,” said McCaleb, “but since you brought it up, I’ll tell you. Goose and me have ridden forty miles east of here and found no more graze than we have right here. We’re going to follow that stampede, taking the chuck wagon with us.”
“Even if the critters have drifted south?” Pen Rhodes asked.
“Yes,” said McCaleb, “no matter how far they’ve drifted. Those horses, mules and cows must have graze, and we know the grass greens earlier to the south. When we find them, if there’s decent graze, we’re going to stay there long enough to put some meat on their bones.”
“That’s about the only choice we have,” Brazos said. “The whole lot of them need at least a week on good grass. That would allow time for the graze to improve to the east of here.”
“So we’re gonna set on our hunkers for another week after we track down the herd,” said Monte.
“We are, if there’s any decent graze to be had,” McCaleb replied. “It’s that or watch them starve to death.”
“I fully agree with your thinking,” said Will, “but there’s one wild card we have to consider. What about the Sioux?”
“We have every reason to believe they’re gathered somewhere to the north of here, or in Dakota Territory,” McCaleb said. “If that’s not the case, then we’re in big trouble. But nothing worth having has ever been gained without some risk.”
“Just a hell of a lot of risk, in this case,” said Monte.
“I’m still trail boss,” McCaleb said, “and we’re going, with or without you. Goose, I’ll want you to ride with me. We’re going just far enough to round up the mules. The rest of you wait here with the chuck wagon until we return.”
McCaleb and Goose rode off in the easterly direction the stampede had gone. Within less than a mile, the horses and mules had separated themselves from the stampeding cattle, and the trail led north.
“They not go far,” said Goose.
“I doubt they have,” McCaleb said. “We know there’s almost no graze up that way. We don’t know it’s any better to the south, but it should be.”
Within two or three miles, they found the chuck wagon mule teams and the remuda horses picking at the skimpy grass. Quickly they captured the four mules and, with them on lead ropes, returned to their waiting outfit.
“The horses and mules separated from the cattle and are not more than three miles to the north of here,” said McCaleb. “Jed, you and Stoney harness the mules. We’re going to gather the remuda and then take the trail of the herd.”
“It’s my day on the wagon,” Susannah said.
“Go ahead, then,” said McCaleb, “and take your time. Brazos, you and Will stay with the wagon until we catch up to the herd. The rest of you will ride with me to gather our horse remuda.”
The outfit rode out, Susannah following with the wagon.
9
SOUTHEASTERN MONTANA TERRITORY.
MAY 5, 1876
DESPITE THE CATTLE STILL being scattered, the outfit was in good spirits because the horses had been recovered from the Crows without a massive battle. Quickenpaugh was applauded by the rest of the riders. Only Bud McDaniels kept his silence and his distance.
“Tomorrow morning,” said Cal, “We�
�ll go looking for the herd, and we’re going to take the chuck wagon with us. Wherever we find the cattle, there’ll be water, and maybe some decent graze.”
“I think we’re too far north for the graze to get any better,” Quanah Taylor said. “If the herd goes lookin’ for grass, it’ll be to the south of us, where the grass greens a mite earlier.”
“If that’s where the trail leads, then that’s where we’ll go,” said Cal. “We can turn to the south maybe fifty miles, and it still would not be out of our way. In fact, we’d be in more a straight line to Deadwood than we are now.”
“Then why haven’t we already moved farther south?” Bud McDaniels demanded.
“Because we’ll be closer to the old Sioux hunting grounds,” said Cal, “increasing our chances of running headlong into a party of Sioux. Now, if the cattle have drifted south, and there’s better graze, we no longer have a choice. All of you should be aware there’ll be some risk.”
“There’s no help for it, then,” Tom Allen said. “We know all this is buildin’ up to some kind of Armageddon between the army and the Sioux. What we don’t know is where it’ll happen.”
“I think it’ll come in southeastern Montana,” said Mac Withers. “Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to get through there before all hell busts loose.”
“We’re going to depend on Quickenpaugh’s judgment,” Cal replied. “I intend for him to scout well ahead of the drive. At the first sign of the Sioux coming together, then we’ll do our best to avoid them. We’ll go north to the Yellowstone, if we have to.”
“Right back where there’s no graze,” said Bud McDaniels.
“Bud, for God’s sake, stop thinking and talking like a fool,” Jasmine said. “Just a few more days, and the grass will be green everywhere.”
Nothing more was said about their circumstances, although the riders talked among themselves while on watch during the night. On the first watch were Arch Rainey, Hitch Gould, Mac Withers, Oscar Fentress and Smokey Ellison. With the cattle scattered, they had only the horses to concern them.
“No trouble,” said Smokey Ellison, as the riders for the second watch saddled their horses.
“Bueno,” Cal said.
With him were Tom Allen, Quanah Taylor, Bud McDaniels, Bill Petty and Quickenpaugh the Comanche. To Cal’s surprise, Lorna arose when he did.
“We don’t really need you,” said Cal.
“I know that,” Lorna said. “Perhaps I just want to be with you.”
“I reckon that’s permitted,” said Cal. “I’ll saddle a horse for you.”
The two of them walked their horses side by side, and it was a while before Lorna had anything to say. Finally she spoke.
“You hardly ever have Curley and me on watch anymore. Why?”
“There’s six of us on the second watch,” Cal said, “and five on the first. That’s enough unless there’s a storm, thunder or lightning.”
“It’s because of Bud and Curley, isn’t it?”
“If you’ve got it all figured out,” said Cal, “why are you asking me?”
“I just want to be sure,” Lorna said.
“You mean Curley wants to be sure,” said Cal.
“All right, damn it,” Lorna said, “Curley doesn’t like it. She believes you’re just trying to make allowances for her trouble with Bud, and she resents not being treated like part of the outfit.”
“With Jasmine laid up, Curley has her hands full,” said Cal. “She alternates with you on the chuck wagon, as well as sharing the cooking duties. Nobody expects either of you to do more.”
“You could assign Curley the first watch and Bud the second,” Lorna persisted.
“Is that your idea or hers?”
“Mine,” said Lorna.
“Well, I can do considerably better than that,” said Cal. “Starting tomorrow night, I’ll assign Curley and Bud to the first watch. That way, he can stalk her for six hours while they’re on watch, and spend the next six trying to get her to sleep with him.”
“Cal Snider,” Lorna almost shouted, “you’re impossible.”
“Quiet, damn it,” said Cal. “You’ll stampede the horses.”
The rest of the second watch had heard, but only Bud McDaniels had anything to say.
“What are you tryin’ to do, Snider? Stampede the horses?”
“Mind your own damn business, McDaniels,” Cal said.
Lorna said nothing. Leading her horse, she stomped away. Cal mounted and continued circling the herd. Though there was light from moon and stars, he didn’t see McDaniels.
“What happened to Big-mouth?” Cal asked Tom Allen.
“I have no idea,” said Tom. “I was tempted to bust him in the nose, but I reckoned I ought to save that little pleasure for you.”
The quiet of the night was suddenly interrupted by Bud McDaniels swearing.
“Cal!” Lorna cried. “Cal!”
Cal kicked his horse into a gallop, and when he reached the scene, Bud McDaniels and Curley were involved in a brawl on the ground. In the shadows, Cal couldn’t tell one from the other. Suddenly there was a dull thud, and the struggling ceased. Curley got to her knees, and then to her feet. She wore nothing but Levi’s, and in her hand was her Colt.
“If that pistol had gone off, the horses would be scattered all over hell,” said Cal.
“Wrong,” Curley said. “If it had gone off, his brains would be scattered all over hell.”
“Lorna,” said Cal, “get Curley another shirt.”
“I can get my own damn shirt,” Curley said, “if I figure I need one.”
She stood there in silence, defiant, until Bud McDaniels sat up.
“She buffaloed me,” cried McDaniels.
“The next time you crawl on me, ripping my clothes off, I won’t just hit you with a gun muzzle,” Curley said. “I’ll shoot you dead.”
“Cal,” Jasmine cried from the chuck wagon, “come here.”
“I’ll go with you, Cal,” said Lorna.
Cal said nothing, and when they approached the wagon, Jasmine spoke.
“I heard him go after Curley,” Jasmine said. “What brought that on?”
“I suppose it’s my fault,” said Lorna. “I was talking to Cal about Curley, and we got a little . . . loud. I suppose Bud thought if Cal and me could fight, then him and Curley could do the same.”
“We weren’t fighting,” Cal said. “We disagreed on something.”
“Oh?” said Jasmine. “What?”
“Over whether or not Curley can stand watch,” Lorna said.
“No more argument from me,” said Cal angrily. “Curley’s determined to take care of herself, and as far as I’m concerned, she’ll have to. I’m assigning her to the first watch tomorrow night, and she can do it with or without her shirt. I don’t care.”
Jasmine sighed, and it was Lorna who spoke.
“It’s my fault, Jasmine. I stirred all this up, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t blame you or Cal,” said Jasmine. “Neither of you have any control over what Bud does. I intend to stay out of it, allowing Curley to handle him in whatever way that suits her. I think both of you should do the same.”
Leaving Lorna with Jasmine, Cal led his horse back to the scene of the brawl. There was no sign of Bud McDaniels. Curley sat cross-legged on one of her blankets, the other one around her shoulders.
“I know you hate me, but I did nothing to encourage him,” Curley said.
“I don’t hate you, and I believe you’re telling the truth,” said Cal.
“I suppose I’d better tell you the rest of it,” Curley said.
“If there’s more, I’d appreciate it,” said Cal.
“Bud’s jealous of Quickenpaugh and me,” Curley said.
“Oh?” said Cal. “Does he have reason?”
“Damn it,” Curley said, “you know he doesn’t. Quickenpaugh’s been teaching me a few words of the Crow tongue, and he’s more a gentleman than Bud McDaniels will ever be.”
�
��You like Quickenpaugh, then,” said Cal.
“Yes,” Curley said. “He’s Comanche, but he’s twice the man Bud McDaniels is, or can ever be. Quickenpaugh’s a man, and he doesn’t swagger around trying to prove it.”
“While I can appreciate your liking Quickenpaugh,” said Cal, “don’t you think you’re being unfair to him? Whatever you think of Bud, he’s jealous as hell of you, and he’s got a temper like a stomped-on rattler. How would you feel if he shot Quickenpaugh in the back?”
“I’d kill him,” Curley said viciously. “I’d gut-shoot him.”
“That wouldn’t help Quickenpaugh,” said Cal.
“No,” Curley conceded. “What do you think I should do?”
“From now until we reach Deadwood, don’t spend so much time with Quickenpaugh,” said Cal. “If Bud hasn’t straightened up by the time we sell the herd, I’m kicking him out. He won’t be returning to Virginia City with us.”
“That wouldn’t make me sorry,” Curley said, “except that I’ll have no place to go. I’ll have no claim on any of this herd, except through Bud.”
“You can always stay with him,” said Cal.
“If I’m going to be pawed over by a man I don’t even like, I’d as soon find me a place in a whorehouse,” Curley said.
“Damn it,” said Cal, uneasy with the turn the conversation had taken, “there has to be some answers, but I don’t have them now. Avoid any more fighting with Bud, if you can. I promise whatever Bud chooses to do after the herd’s sold, you won’t be left on your own. Story would never cut you loose, and even if he did, Lorna and me wouldn’t.”
Cal was unprepared for her response. Curley threw her arms around him, weeping as though her heart were broken. The blanket slid away, and Cal Snider was only too much aware that Curley still wore no shirt. It was the worst possible time for Lorna to show up, and to Cal’s dismay, she did.
“What have you done to Curley?” Lorna demanded, sounding half angry.
“Nothing,” said Cal. “I . . .”
“He’s been so kind to me,” Curley said, through tears.
“I told her that if Bud leaves the outfit and she has nowhere to go, we’ll take her in,” said Cal. “We will, won’t we?”
The Deadwood Trail Page 14