“I’ll give him some powders for the pain,” Checkers said. “I got me a pretty good medical kit in my wagon.”
Reese stood up. He could feel the dawn about to break.
The night seemed darkest just then, outside the ring of firelight. Mosquitoes and flies danced in the glow and in the east, the darkness faded to a pale gray.
He put his arms around Louella and walked her back to their bedroll.
“Thanks,” he said.
“What for? I didn’t do anything.”
“You were a comfort to Johnny.”
“Do you think he’ll make it?” she asked.
“He might. Checkers will take good care of him, I think.”
“I think so too,” she said.
They lay down together but neither could sleep. The herd was getting to its collective feet and moving around. There was high grass to feed on, and most of it was still green. Reese knew it would get greener the farther south they went.
In the distance, they heard a coyote call and it sounded strangely like the keening of a Cheyenne warrior at the death of a fellow brave.
Chapter 13
Roy found traces of blood where the Indians had been. There were several arrows sticking out of the ground where they had landed. And one cow had an arrow in her rump. He pulled it out and the cow trotted off and joined the rest of the herd.
They forded the creek as the sun sprawled its light across the wide prairie. It had rained the night before, but only to the north of the herd.
Roy could smell the rain in the dawn air as he ate breakfast at the chuck wagon. Checkers had fixed cornmeal mush and thick slices of beef, sugar beets, and biscuits for all hands. They ate in shifts as the herd started moving across the creek in a slow procession.
Tommy rode into camp with George, who had been on drag that morning.
“Reese, Tommy’s got somethin’ to show you,” George said. “What he done found back yonder.”
“What have you got, Tommy?” Reese asked the boy.
Tommy opened his hand. “Looks like teeth,” he said. “And I saw what looked like pieces of a man’s brain lyin’ near these bone chips.”
Reese picked up a broken tooth, then a concave piece of bone that looked as if it had been part of a man’s skull. There was blood on some of the teeth in Tommy’s hand.
“Likely one of you got one of their braves,” Reese said.
Others crowded around to look at the teeth and bone fragments.
“I found part of a bone breastplate too,” George said. “Like a bullet went clean through an Injun’s chest and cut the thong. I left it out there.”
“Hmm,” Reese murmured. “I wonder if that was enough to run Silver Bear off.”
“Lots of tracks,” Tommy said. “Mockersons. And flint arrerheads, a couple, and some turkey feathers. It must have been one whopper of a fight.”
Checkers looked at the remnants in Tommy’s hand as he set a fresh pot of coffee on the cook fire.
“Those are human teeth all right,” he said. “Looks like a bullet hit whoever square in the mouth, maybe blew out his brains.”
“You should know,” Reese said.
“That breastplate tells you somethin’ too. The boys might have cut into a couple of them redskins with lead bullets.”
The talk died down as the men drank coffee and Checkers cleaned up the plates and stowed the utensils in the wagon. He had made a bed for Jimmy John, fed him, and changed his bandage.
“Jimmy John’s runnin’ a high fever,” Checkers told Reese in private. “He might not make it.”
“You let me know, Checkers. Now you’d better hit the trail and find us a noon spot somewhere down the trail.”
“Will do, pretty quick,” Checkers said.
In fifteen minutes, the chuck wagon was splashing across the creek and passing the lead cattle in the herd.
Reese watched it disappear. He looked at the sky. The dark clouds had splintered up into gray streamers that drifted to the southeast. But there were thunderheads building to the northwest, and he too smelled the scent of fresh rain on grass that wafted on the morning wind.
George rode point. Roy took up drag and the other hands rode the flanks, including Reese and Louella.
“How are you, darlin’?” Reese asked his wife.
“Tired,” she said. “Sad about what we lost back home.”
“We’ll build it all back,” he said.
“I know. It won’t be the same, though.”
“Nothing ever is,” Reese said.
He knew that Louella was in pain. She never complained, but he had seen how hard it was for her to walk that morning. Just around the fire. Her limp seemed more pronounced and her face had looked haggard and drawn. Yet she rode her horse like a trouper, head held high, back straight, both legs draped over the side saddle. Her nightgown was rumpled and dirty.
“I’m going to see if one of the boys has a shirt and pants that will fit you,” he told Lou after they had crossed the creek. “That nightgown won’t last another day.”
“I almost feel naked,” she said, and he thought he detected a blush on her face.
“The gown covers you,” he said. “Just barely.”
Louella laughed.
“It’s not what I would wear to Sunday meeting,” she said.
They rode on as the herd picked up speed. The cattle would snatch up tufts of grass or chew their cuds, but Reese was pleased that they seemed to move faster than the day before.
He thought about the Cheyenne and what they might be doing or planning next. Likely his men had killed at least one of them. Those teeth and parts of a skull told a grim story.
The buffalo trail they followed was wide and long. The cattle seemed to take to it like ducks to water, Reese thought. His hands were doing a good job. They kept the herd moving and the strays in check. The farther they got from the home range, the less memory the cows seemed to have. That pleased Reese, but he was still worried that Silver Bear would try again to steal some of his cattle.
And, he thought, he might not wait until nightfall to do it.
Chapter 14
Silver Bear watched as the braves gathered rocks and covered the body of Whining Dog. One of the white man’s bullets had struck him in the mouth and blown away part of his head. Limping Dog had been crouched and was putting another arrow to his bow when he was killed.
And they had not caught any cows.
Now the herd was moving again. Getting farther away.
He was hungry. So were the other braves.
The ground around the grave was still damp from the rain from the night before. The rain had stopped just short of where he and his men had been fighting. And it had not rained where he and his men had slept the rest of the night.
Now Yellow Horse and Black Feather were making fire to ward off the morning chill. In the distance, they could hear the rumble of cattle as the herd moved away in the morning sunlight.
Silver Bear took out his pipe from the pouch he wore. There was tobacco and he tamped the bowl when it was full. They did not have much tobacco left, and what little there was was precious.
“We will smoke,” he said. “Make talk.”
Yellow Horse and Black Feather looked up at him as the fire began to crackle.
“Yes. It will be good to make talk,” Yellow Horse said.
The others finished covering Whining Dog’s dead body with stones. It was all they could do. They had no scaffolding for the brave’s body, and his face was almost gone. They knew that his soul had gone to the star path the night before, but his body would return to the earth.
The braves sat in a circle around the small fire. Silver Bear pulled a faggot from the fire and lit his pipe. He puffed and blew smoke to the four directions, then passed it to Yellow Horse, who sat next to him on his l
eft.
Each man smoked, and then the pipe was returned to Silver Bear.
“We did not get any cattle last night,” he said.
The men grunted in assent.
“That is because we did not do what we should have done. I have given this much thought. We must change the way we go after the cattle and the way we attack the Long Knives.”
“How do we change what we do with the white men?” Black Feather asked.
Silver Bear looked at each man before he answered the question.
“We attack the tail of the cattle herd,” he said. “That is the most narrow part. We cut the tail in two. Some of us will ride fast from one side. The others will ride from the other side and shoot down the white men. We will get the rifles of the fallen men and we will take their pistols and their bullets.”
“That is a good plan,” Yellow Horse said.
“Those cattle that we cut off can be herded away from the others while we fight the Long Knives,” Silver Bear said. “When we have finished the battle, those of us who fought the Long Knives will return to the cattle we drive off and help to herd them back to our camp.”
“When do we do this, Silver Bear?” asked Speckled Hawk.
“When the sun is high,” Silver Bear said.
“They will see us when we ride close,” White Duck said.
“Yes, they will see some of us. We who go to do battle first will make them look at us. That is when the others ride through the tail of the herd and cut it in two, like a knife on a snake.”
The men all nodded in approval.
“We must all ride very fast. We must do our best with the horses.” Silver Bear made sign with his fingers and hands so that all would understand.
“Who will attack and who will cut the tail of the herd?” asked Iron Knife.
“We will draw the pebbles from my hand, big ones and little ones,” Silver Bear said. “Those with the big pebbles will attack the Long Knives. Those with the little pebbles will cut the tail of the herd.”
“Hunh,” grunted the men almost in unison.
“When the sun is high, we will ride,” Silver Bear said. He pointed to the sky.
He started picking up different sizes of pebbles off the ground. These he held in the palm of one hand. When he had gathered the number of pebbles that corresponded to the number of braves, he closed his hand into a fist.
“Now,” he said, “we will draw the little stones to see who cuts the tail of the herd and who attacks the Long Knives. Do not look into my hand. You must take one pebble each and we will measure them when they are all gone.”
That’s what the men did. Each closed his eyes as he reached for a pebble.
When they were all holding pebbles, Silver Bear examined them. He separated the men into two groups.
“You will cut the tail of the herd,” he told Iron Knife. “And you must all ride fast. Those of you with the larger pebbles will attack with me from the other side of the herd.”
The men grunted their approval of the plan and began to gather their bows and check their quivers.
Silver Bear was sure that his plan would work. There were enough braves in his band to cut the trail of the herd and keep the white men busy defending themselves. When the sun was high they would be able to see, and the white men would fall to their arrows.
When all his men were ready, they mounted their ponies.
Silver Bear led them to the south. The sun rose in the sky, heading for its zenith. The morning air was brisk and cool.
It was a good day to die.
Chapter 15
Reese put two men on drag, Calvin and Lonnie. He still did not trust Avery, and had him ride behind his point man, George. That way, he could keep an eye on him.
“If the Cheyenne come after us again,” Reese told Calvin and Lonnie, “they’ll likely come up behind us. You keep your eyes peeled real sharp and shoot at the first sign of Injuns. Keep your rifles in hand. They might ride up out of nowhere and try to catch you nappin’.”
Calvin and Lonnie relieved Roy on drag and sent him to the right flank where the herd was more bunched near the center of the long line of cattle.
Louella rode ahead with Checkers and the chuck wagon so that she could look in on Jimmy John and try to bring down his fever. She and Reese kissed in an awkward embrace on horseback, and she rode off, following the wagon tracks.
Checkers was glad to see her when she rode up and spoke to him.
“We can tie your horse to the wagon,” he said. “You can sit up here with me and look in on Jimmy John from the front seat.”
And that is what Louella did. Soon she was sitting next to Checkers. She could see into the wagon. Jimmy John was asleep. She leaned in and touched a hand to his cheek.
“I think his fever’s dropping some,” she told Checkers.
“Fever burns out the poison,” he said.
“I’ve heard that,” she said. “From my grandmother back in Ohio.”
“I’ll try and pour some soup down his gullet when we make the noon stop,” he said.
“How do you know when to stop and feed the boys?” she asked.
“I calculate it by the sun,” he said. “When it’s straight up overhead, I find a good wide spot and stop. Same with the evenin’ meal.”
“That makes sense,” she said.
In the wagon bed, Jimmy John moaned as the wagon jounced over rough terrain. Louella leaned in to check on the wounded man.
“Do you need anything, Jimmy John?” she asked.
“More powder,” he said.
She turned to Checkers with a questioning look.
“He’s had enough,” Checkers said. “He’ll just have to bear up and tough it out.”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy John. We can’t give you any more medicine right now.” Louella patted his head with a delicate touch.
“Pain all through me,” Jimmy John said. “Like fire.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
Checkers cracked the reins across the backs of the horses. They picked up speed and the wagon bounced even more.
“Maybe if you slowed down, Checkers, it might make Jimmy John more comfortable.”
“Tryin’ to get to the noon stop a little quicker,” he said, “so the boy can rest easier in that wagon bed.”
Louella didn’t say anything. Instead she held on to the side panel to keep from tumbling off the seat.
Eventually Checkers slowed the horses down and the wagon did not rock as much.
“Horses needed a breather,” he told Louella.
Jimmy John stopped moaning and lay still, his face awash in sweat. But the bandage held tight and he was not bleeding.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Checkers began to look for a good place to stop and set up for lunch. He scanned the trail ahead and saw a line of trees that marked a creek.
“We’ll stop up yonder,” he said. “See them trees? That means a creek or a stream.”
“What’s the difference?” she asked.
“None, I reckon. Just some people call a creek a stream and vice versa.”
She laughed. What Checkers said was true. And nobody knew the difference.
They drove up on a small creek and Checkers wheeled the horses so that they were stopped in the shade of some cottonwoods. It was still cool and the wind was blowing from the northwest. In the distance, Louella saw large thunderheads and wondered if they would have rain before the day was over. The clouds did not seem to be moving, though, and the more she looked at them, they seemed impervious to the wind that washed against her face.
“We stopping?” Jimmy John asked.
“Yes, Jimmy John. Checkers found us a nice shady spot by a creek. Maybe now you won’t have so much pain.”
“I do feel some better,” Jimmy John said.
; They could not see the herd as both she and Checkers scanned their back trail looking for any sign that the herd was nearing them. They did not see any trail dust either.
“Herd’s still a ways off,” Checkers said. “So we can tend to Jimmy John, maybe make him more comfortable.”
“Can’t you give him something for the pain?” she asked.
“He’s over his limit now. Them are strong powders I give him. Right now he’s better off just sleepin’.”
She looked back into the wagon.
“How do you feel?” she asked Jimmy John.
“Pain’s not so bad now,” he said. “Just kind of a steady dull throbbin’ in my back and gut.”
“You’ll feel better after a while,” she said. “Hungry?”
“Nope, ma’am, and I’d be afraid to eat with that hole in my belly.”
“Well, you rest easy,” she said. “I’m going to walk around and stretch my legs.”
Presently they saw dust in the sky on their back trail.
“Herd’s a-comin’,” Checkers said. “Be here in less’n an hour.”
“I see the dust,” Louella said, shading her eyes against the sun. “Still far off, though.”
“They’re movin’, sure enough. Else we wouldn’t see that dust a-risin’ from the trail.”
The dust dissipated in the stiff breeze, but it was there. The herd seemed to be moving at a good, steady pace.
Half an hour later, the point man came into view over the horizon. And behind him the herd rumbled on.
“Them cows smell water now,” Checkers said. “They’ll be here directly.”
“I think I see Reese,” she said.
She waved, but Reese, who was riding front flank, was too far off to see her. And he had his hands full as the herd swelled in the vanguard and some of the cattle tried to bolt out of the procession.
Whoever was riding point rode out of the path of the now charging cattle and let them stream by as they headed for the creek.
Checkers had a fire going in a ring of rocks and he was setting down fry pans and water-filled pots to make soup and to fry mush.
The cattle fanned out and drank from the creek as the riders on the flanks let them go while keeping watchful eyes for any that tried to stray from the creek or cross it.
Ralph Compton The Cheyenne Trail Page 7