A few moments later, he breathed a sigh of relief, for they turned toward a larger group of laurel bushes directly across the creek, no more than twenty yards from where he lay hiding. He realized then that they were simply seeking privacy from the other man to perform their calls to relieve their bowels. He watched as they made their preparations and was further surprised when he realized they were both women. One of them, a large woman, was simply dressed as a man.
Walking Man almost blurted out his surprise upon discovering their attack was to be against one man and two women. It was too much to have hoped for. Of course, there was still some caution to take because of the guns, but the odds were now heavily in the warriors’ favor. In his excitement, it was difficult to remain still until the women had finished and walked back to the fire. When they had gone, he made his exit back into the cottonwoods where he had tied his horse. Then, shielded by the cover of trees along the creek bank, he rode back about a quarter of a mile to report his findings to Gray Wolf and Cripple Horse.
CHAPTER 6
“Only one man?” Gray Wolf questioned. “When we spotted them on the road, they were too far away to tell. Are you sure the other two are women?”
“I saw them when they went to the bushes,” Walking Man insisted. “I know the difference between a man and a woman,” he added sarcastically.
“Are you sure?” Cripple Horse couldn’t resist joking. “We have been away from the village a long time, now.” When Walking Man ignored him, he asked, “Are you sure they have only one rifle?”
“I can’t be sure,” Walking Man said. “But the saddles were all easy to see, and there was only one that had a rifle showing in the strap where they usually carry them.” He went on to tell them that the only problem would be if one of them remained alert while the others slept. “The creek is wide where they camped, and we would have to cross it to attack them. If we were discovered before we got across, it would be bad for us.” He gave them a few moments to consider that before continuing. “If we were interested only in stealing their horses, it would be an easy thing to sneak in and take them, because they are not far from the road.”
“But that does not give us what we need,” Cripple Horse said. “They will still have their guns.”
“If the horses are as easy to take as you say,” Gray Wolf said, “maybe we should steal them first and leave the white devils on foot. Then, they could never run very far from us, and we could watch them for a chance to get close enough for our bows to be effective.” He looked at Walking Man and repeated, “If their horses are as easy as you say.”
“There is a high ridge on the north side of the trail,” Walking Man replied. “Now that it is almost dark, we can ride up the back of that ridge and see the camp. After they have gone to sleep, it will be easy to go down and take the horses.”
Cripple Horse looked at Gray Wolf and nodded. It seemed the safest way to attack the camp. If, afterward, they had failed to kill their prey, at least the warriors would have three fine horses. So, they jumped upon their ponies and rode east far enough to cross over the road and circle around to the back of the ridge.
* * *
Unaware of the danger threatening them, the occupants of the camp took their time to wash the frying pan and spoons. The women, apparently free of worry over who might be chasing them from Ogallala, were enjoying the last of the coffee. There was no thought in Perley’s mind concerning the threat of an Indian attack. It had been a fairly long time since there were reports of any hostile activity in the area, most all of the surviving holdouts against the reservations having been captured.
Luckily for the women, their bedrolls were tied behind their saddles, so they didn’t lose them when Kenny Lamb rode off with all their other supplies. Using the saddles for pillows, they turned in for the night, planning to get an early start in the morning. As a matter of practice, Perley kept his Winchester handy, plus he counted a lot on Buck’s senses to alert him in the event of an emergency. It wasn’t long, however, before all three were surrendering to the music of the crickets and other creatures that dwelt along the creek bank.
At some point late that night, Perley was awakened. He did not realize at once that he had been alerted by the faithful gelding, hearing only the low mumbling of Liz, apparently in a deep dream. He lay there listening for only a moment more before he heard the unmistakable sounds of alarm from Buck.
He reacted immediately. Grabbing his rifle and rolling away from the fire, he scrambled up to his feet and ran to the horses. What he discovered in the darkness of a moonless night might be considered humorous later on when retelling it. But at the time, it was a desperate attempt to save the horses from being stolen.
In the moments before, Walking Man had leaped upon the back of the bay gelding he admired, while Gray Wolf and Cripple Horse had jumped onto the other two horses. Buck promptly screamed his defiance and launched a stiff-legged dance of the devil, making short work of the would-be thief’s ride. The surprised Indian was thrown head over heels, to land on his back, while the bay ran toward the camp and his master.
While Walking Man was being introduced to Buck, Gray Wolf and Cripple Horse, not having noticed that their mounts were hobbled, began flailing and kicking them frantically when they refused to gallop. When the first shot from Perley’s rifle cracked over their heads, it was incentive enough for them to come off the horses. Perley’s second shot inspired them to run for their lives and their own horses, waiting at the foot of the ridge. Walking Man followed close behind, in spite of extreme difficulty in getting his breath, a result of landing solidly on his back.
Perley followed for a little way until convinced the thieves were not stopping in their escape. To encourage them, he fired one more shot over their heads, then he gathered the horses and led them back closer to the camp and tied them there.
“Thanks, partner,” he said to Buck as he rubbed the big bay’s neck. Then he prepared to give an accounting to the two women, who were both lying flat on their stomachs, their pistols out, and using their saddles for cover.
Not waiting for his explanation, Liz blurted, “What the hell was that? Was it Kenny?”
“No,” Perley answered. “It was just some Indians, doing what Indians do. They were figurin’ on stealin’ our horses, but they didn’t know Buck was on duty. I reckon I shoulda been on the lookout for somebody tryin’ to take the horses, but I didn’t figure on any trouble with Indians. I’ll try to be a little more careful from now on. Sorry it spoiled your sleep, but I think you can go on back to it—you won’t be bothered the rest of the night. I’ll stay awake, just in case.”
“The hell you say,” Stella immediately responded. “There ain’t no way I’m gonna go back to sleep with those bastards sneakin’ around in the dark.”
“The same goes for me,” Liz declared. “I’m up for good. I’ve heard some tales about what those savages do to white women.” She held her pistol up. “And this ain’t goin’ back in the holster till daylight and I can see a mile around me.”
“Well, I reckon I might as well liven up this fire a little and we’ll make another pot of coffee,” Perley said. “Might be a good idea to set back a ways from the fire, though—don’t wanna give ’em too good a target, just in case.” He scratched his head thoughtfully. “They didn’t put up any fight at all. I figure they don’t have any guns, and all they had in mind was stealin’ the horses.”
* * *
While the victims of their attack prepared to wait out the night, the vanquished raiders pulled their ponies to a halt after galloping to the north side of the ridge, where they stopped to review their ill fortune.
“This was a foolish plan,” Cripple Horse complained. “We are lucky one of us is not dead. We should have attacked the camp. They were all asleep. We could have killed them all while they slept.”
“I don’t think so,” Gray Wolf disagreed. “The one with the rifle rolled out of his blanket immediately. We would have all been killed if we had rushed
in.” He looked to Walking Man for confirmation. “You saw him grab his rifle, didn’t you?”
“No,” Walking Man answered. “I was watching the horses.” This was true. Because he was so eager to get to the bay gelding first, he wasn’t watching the camp at all.
“I think we would have gotten away with the horses if Walking Man had not caused that bay horse to buck and make the noise that gave us away,” Cripple Horse said. “Maybe Gray Wolf or I should have ridden that horse.”
“I ride as well as any man,” Walking Man retorted in anger. “That horse is crazy. You and Gray Wolf could not even make those other two horses run.”
“Their legs were tied!” Gray Wolf exclaimed in their defense. “They could not run.”
“Anyone knows a horse can’t run if his legs are tied,” Walking Man replied. “You should have untied them before you tried to ride them.”
“It was too dark to see that they were tied,” Cripple Horse replied. “There was no time, anyway, with all the noise when that horse threw you off.”
“It is done,” Gray Wolf asserted. “Our plan didn’t go well, and it does no good to argue among ourselves. We must talk about what we will do now.”
“Gray Wolf is right,” Walking Man said. “Let’s make our plans to kill those three whites and take their horses and guns. I want to teach that crazy horse to obey.”
They talked it over for a short time, and all three agreed that there would be no honor in abandoning their original plan to kill the whites. And they desperately needed their guns and ammunition. Since there was very little time left before sunrise, they decided to ride farther up the trail to get ahead of the white party. Then, when it became light enough to see, they could find a good spot to ambush them. All agreed, so they rode along the back of the ridge to the end of it before returning to the wagon road and continuing west.
* * *
When the first rays of the sun began to melt the shadows near the creek, Perley saddled Buck and told Liz and Stella that he wanted to make sure the Indians were not still hanging around.
“You didn’t get much sleep last night, so you might wanna go ahead and have a little breakfast before we start out this mornin’,” he said. His suggestion was well met by both women. “I think our visitors from last night have decided we’re not worth the risk, but I’d like to see some sign of that. I won’t be gone long, but keep your pistols handy anyway. I’ve been wrong a heap of times before.”
“You don’t have to worry about us,” Liz said, “as long as it’s daylight and we can see.”
Stella nodded in agreement and patted her .44 on the grip.
“I figured,” he said, then gave Buck a little nudge and loped off through the grassy area toward the road. He had no trouble following the trail the three raiders left after they crossed the road and ran through the tall grass toward the eastern edge of the ridge.
On the north side of the ridge, Perley found the spot where they had left their horses, and a trail leading west after they left. He was immediately concerned with the possibility that they might have in mind moving on ahead of him to set up an ambush somewhere along the trail.
Faced now with the same problem the three Indians had when they first started trailing him, he decided to take the same precaution they had taken. It was easy to spot someone from a great distance away on the gently rolling prairie. So, when the horses were saddled and his packs loaded on the packhorse, Perley led his group across to the south side of the creek and set out for Cheyenne, using the trees along Lodgepole Creek to keep from being seen by anyone looking for them. He didn’t see that as much of a loss of time, since the creek ran almost straight east and west. There were no objections from the women when he explained his reasons for leaving the plainly marked road.
It was after the first stop to rest the horses, and they had been under way again for only about half an hour, when Perley signaled with his hand and reined Buck to a stop.
“I got a funny feelin’ about that clump of trees up ahead,” he told the women. He pointed to what looked to be a thick grove of trees that stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the almost treeless prairie. “It’s hard to tell from here, but I think there’s a stream flowin’ down the middle of a shallow draw, and it empties into this creek. And there are trees and bushes along it, just like this creek. And what’s got me thinkin’ is, what a good place to wait to ambush two nice ladies and a fine-lookin’ gentleman like me.”
The women were at once alarmed.
“Whadda we gonna do?” Stella asked. “Do you think they’ve seen us comin’?”
“I don’t know,” Perley said. “Maybe, but if they ain’t got nothin’ but bows, they can’t do nothin’ about it if we take a wide swing around that spot and keep outta range of their arrows.”
With that in mind, he led them south toward a line of low hills a couple hundred yards distant, until they reached a shallow draw. It offered enough cover to allow them to pass on westward without being seen by anyone who happened to be in the grove of trees by the creek.
When Perley estimated that they had ridden far enough to have passed the area he suspected, he dismounted and went to the top of the hill to take a look back. Kneeling in the grass, he watched for a few minutes, but there was no sign of anyone that he could see. He descended again to report to the women.
“Can’t say if I was right or wrong,” he said. “If they are in that bunch of trees, they must have their eyes on the road.”
His report was at first reassuring to Liz and Stella, but it did nothing to dispel the sense of danger awaiting them at every point in the trail that looked suitable for an ambush.
No choice but to keep moving. The farther they rode, the more Perley’s curiosity worked on his mind. There was nothing to base his suspicion of an ambush on other than the notion that the spot was a perfect setup for one. Finally, he couldn’t deny his curiosity any longer. He pulled Buck up and waited for the women to come along beside him.
“I’m gonna go back and take a look at that place,” he said. Seeing immediate concern register on both faces, he tried to reassure them. “I don’t wanna have to worry about playin’ leapfrog with those three Indians all the way to Cheyenne. You keep on ridin’.” He turned and picked out a round slope in the distance. Pointing toward it, he said, “Just keep your nose on that point, and I’ll catch up with you.”
“Damn it, Perley,” Liz replied. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Well, no,” he said. “But if they are hidin’ in those trees, I might find a way to stop ’em from comin’ after us.”
“You might find a way to get your scalp lifted, too,” Stella commented. “You’ll be a helluva lot of good to us then.”
“There is that to consider, I reckon,” he replied. “But I’ve always been kinda lucky.” Unless you ask my brothers about it, he thought. “And I’ll be careful.”
“You be damn careful,” Liz ordered.
“I aim to be,” he said and handed her the lead rope on his packhorse. Then he wheeled Buck and headed off to intercept the creek west of the area he suspected, thinking to himself, Hope I ain’t getting ready to step in another cow pie.
Once he reached the creek again, he looked back the way he had come and felt pretty confident that he would not have been seen by the Indians if they were at the fork where the stream emptied into Lodgepole Creek. He estimated he was a hundred and fifty yards above that spot. He walked Buck slowly back toward the fork, holding him close to the trees that lined the banks until within about fifty yards of the potential ambush. Dismounting then, he dropped Buck’s reins to the ground instead of tying him to a tree branch as he might ordinarily have done. In the event he did find trouble and got himself scalped, he wanted Buck to be free to escape.
Straining to be as alert as possible, he made his way cautiously along the creek on foot, stopping every few yards to look and listen. There was no sound, save that of a lonely hawk circling above, no doubt curious as to wh
at purpose the man in the bushes had in mind. He was inching closer now to the potential ambush spot, with still nothing in sight to indicate there was anyone there but himself. About to rise from his kneeling position again, he stopped halfway up when he heard a horse whinny.
He froze at once, his rifle ready to fire, but there was no other sound. Kneeling again, he scanned the trees and bushes ahead of him, searching for the horse. He was about to dismiss it as a sound he had imagined when a movement of branches in a clump across the creek caught his eye. When he moved a few feet to get a better angle, he got a glimpse of a horse beyond the bushes. He was sure then that he had been right about the ambush. They were waiting. It occurred to him that they might have purposely left their horses far enough behind them that the animals wouldn’t nicker when he and the women approached.
Knowing now that the three Indians were still farther along the creek, he moved even more cautiously through the clumps of laurel bushes and cottonwoods, his finger resting on the trigger guard of his Winchester. Finally, he reached a point where he could see the road where it passed through the trees. This would be the place, he thought, but he saw no one on either bank of the creek.
Then he glanced up. There, lying in the fork of a cottonwood tree limb, he made out the form of one of the Indians. Having discovered him, Perley looked toward the trees on the far side of the trail and soon spotted another one. A further scan turned up the third warrior. All three had their eyes on the road, watching for the arrival of the man with the two women. Well, I’ll be . . . he thought. They’re in the trees.
He had found them, but the question now was what to do about them. The advantage was definitely his. He was sure he could easily pick off two of them before they had time to react, and maybe get a shot in the third one if he had any trouble getting down from the tree. Perley drew the Winchester up to his shoulder and lined the sights up on the first warrior he had seen.
The Legend of Perley Gates Page 9