Grizzly Killer: The Medicine Wheel
( Grizzly Killer Book III )
Lane R Warenski
Contents
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1. The Loss of Friends
2. Wilderness Justice
3. A Hard Choice
4. Old Friends
5. Missing Hunters
6. A Broken Cinch
7. The White Wolf
8. Good to be Back
9. A Hard Birth
10. Ambushed
11. Tending the Wounds
12. Painted for War
13. The Medicine Wheel
14. A Long Ways Home
15. Waited for You
16. Morning Star
17. Up a Tree
18. Magic Power
19. Old Friends but Bad News
20. In the Shadow of the Tetons
21. Haunted Village
22. Leaving for Rendezvous
23. Blackfoot Devils
24. Medicine Woman
25. Crossing the Snake
26. Almost Gone
27. Snake
28. The Narrows
29. Medicine Woman
30. Revenge on the Dead
31. Bear River
32. The Blackfeet
Note from the Author
Untitled
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About the Author
Grizzly Killer: The Medicine Wheel
( Grizzly Killer Book III )
by
Lane R Warenski
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2017 by Lane R Warenski
Wolfpack Publishing
P.O. Box 620427
Las Vegas, NV 89162
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-62918-604-7
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1 The Loss of Friends
Zach Connors crawled to the top of the ridge that was just west of where he could see the black smoke rising toward the heavens. Jimbo, his huge dog, was down on his belly crawling alongside him. As he reached the top he carefully parted the branches of a sage and looked down on the bloody carnage that just a couple of hours ago had been a peaceful hunting camp of a half dozen trappers.
He could see three bodies lying next to the fire and another slumped over the corner post of their lean-to. The black smoke was rising from what appeared to be all of their belongings put in a pile and set on fire.
Zach studied the area carefully but could see no movement. Their camp was set in a stand of cottonwoods on a bend in a creek that flowed into the Seeds-Kee-Dee from the west. He noticed a deer head and a couple of antelope heads on the ground under a pole lashed between a couple of trees where they had hung their game to skin it. He could see the picket line where their horses had been tied but they were gone. He watched, making sure no one was still around for several more minutes and then with a silent hand signal told Jimbo to go get Ol’ Red. Ol’ Red was his big Kentucky mule that he had brought with him from his Kentucky home when he first came to the mountains several years ago. He had left Ol’ Red in a stand of brush at the base of the ridge just before crawling to the top.
He checked the prime in the pan of his trusted Hawken and then did the same with the horse pistol he had slid under his belt when he had left Ol’ Red and started up the ridge. He then slowly rose to his feet. His sky blue eyes were covering every inch of the creek bottom as he made his way down to the blood and gore below.
He was deep in Shoshone country but the Shoshone were mostly friendly to the white trappers. He wondered what Indians would be here and would do this to a seemingly peaceful camp of trappers? He knew the Crows would come this far south for they had attacked when he and his Pa were with General Ashley’s group bringing supplies to the Brigades of Ashley’s Rocky Mountain Fur Company for the very first rendezvous and that wasn’t all that far from where he was now. The Arapaho’s, he had fought them several times right along the Seeds-Kee-Dee but he had never seen them west of the river where he was now.
As he slowly walked into their camp he noticed right off there were no arrows in the bodies of these dead trappers and he thought it was unusual for a war party to all be armed with muskets or rifles with none of them using bows and arrows. He knew the French and some American traders had been trading muskets, knives, and many other manufactured items to the Indians for furs ever since the fur trade had first begun.
He reached the fire first and verified the three men were all dead. They had been shot and scalped and left lay where they fell. As he walked over to the fourth at the lean-to he heard Jimbo and Ol’ Red coming down the ridge toward him and he held his hand up to stop them. He didn’t want any of the tracks disturbed before he had thoroughly examined them. He moved the body off the lean-to and as he turned him over to lay him down he recognized the face that was staring sightlessly at the sky. It was Henry Clayson- the leader of a trapping brigade, a man that Zach looked forward to seeing at Rendezvous every year. Henry had taken his brigade into the upper Wind River and Popo Agie country for the last couple of years and they had done well, bringing many plews into Rendezvous. They were friends with the Shoshone and normally spent the long hard winters in one of the Shoshone villages. Zach didn’t believe any Shoshone would have done this to someone that had been their friend.
As he slowly walked around looking at the moccasin and boot tracks he noticed a trail that led toward the trees. As he followed it he rounded a bush and the scene before him sickened him to the core. A man was tied to a tree. His arms were tied behind the tree at such an angle that his shoulders had been pulled out of their sockets. He was stripped naked and had been skinned. The pool of blood under him told Zach he had been alive while the skinning took place. Zach had been in the Rockies now for a few years and he had seen how cruel some of the Indians could be but this was the worst scene he had witnessed.
He was just about to cut this poor soul down when he heard a soft moan. He pulled his pistol and carefully walked toward a large clump of willows by the creek. As he approached he could see where a man had crawled into the willows. He spoke before getting too close, “Mister, my name is Zach Connors but they call me Grizzly Killer and I’m here to help.”
There was a slow, very weak response, “Grizzly Killer is it really you?”
“Yah it’s me, I’m comin’ in ta help.”
“They’s ain’t no helpin’ me, I’s gut shot and scalped.”
He parted the willows and knelt down by the side of this trapper. He could see right off there really was no way to help this man except maybe try to make him a little more comfortable. He could see the white bone of the skull and the blood stain on his buckskins told Zach he didn’t have long to live.
Zach looked into his pain-filled eyes and asked, “Who done this to you, was it Arapahos or maybe Blackfeet?” The man was getting weaker by the minute and Zach could tell it took great effort to speak as he looked at Zach and said, “It were white men, they took all our plews from the spring season. After they shot me I could hear somebody a screamin’ like they was skinnin’ ‘em or somethin’ sounded like it mighta been Mathew.” His eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out, Zach stayed right there by his side and watched as his breathing got weaker and just a few minutes later his life slipped away.
Zach sat there thinking about
what this trapper had said. He didn’t want to believe white men would have done this but he believed this dead trapper. He didn’t know his name even though he had seen him with Henry at the last Rendezvous on Sweet Lake.
He picked him up and carried him over by the fire with the others. He then went back to the tree and cut the man down that had been skinned and brought him over to the fire, then did the same with Henry.
He had been traveling light without a pack horse so he had no shovel. He spent the next three hours covering their bodies with rocks until he was satisfied the predators couldn’t get to them. While he was doing that he sent his dog Jimbo to circle the area making sure all was clear.
Zach had raised Jimbo from a pup after finding him at an abandoned Shoshone camp. He had spent his first winter alone after a Grizzly had killed his Pa. Jimbo and Ol’ Red had been his only companions. He spent every day with Jimbo teaching him dozens of hand signals and voice commands and after a few months it was like they could read each other’s minds. Zach had grown to depend on Jimbo’s ability to sense danger even over his own. He had grown into the biggest dog Zach had ever seen, weighing nearly two hundred pounds. He was long of leg and could out run most everything accept the Antelope. The Indians called him the Great Medicine Dog and believed he could read Zach’s mind.
By the time Zach was finished with this grave he was determined to find the murdering polecats that had killed and tortured Henry Clayson and his men. Just before he left he removed his wolverine skin hat and looked up at the heavens saying a prayer for the souls he had just buried, “Lord take these good men in and give ‘em shelter. They might not have been perfect here on earth but none of us are. I was proud to know ‘em and call ‘em friends and I know they’ll be good friends to everyone up yonder as well.”
He walked over to Ol’ Red and stroked him on the neck asking his big mule, “You ready for a hard ride, boy?” Then he stepped up in the saddle and whistled for Jimbo. He figured it was midafternoon and this murdering group had at least a half days lead on him. They wouldn’t be traveling near as fast with pack horses and all the extra mounts they had taken from Henry and his men.
Jimbo came running up the creek from the direction the murderers had gone. With a quick hand signal Zach had Jimbo following their trail and set Ol’ Red into a fast lope behind the big dog.
Ol’ Red had been with Zach as a pack mule when he and his Pa had left their Kentucky homestead just outside of Pottersville. Red had been just a year old back then. Zack thought about that as he felt the powerful muscles of Ol’ Red as he started after Jimbo. He couldn’t believe it had only been four years ago, for it seemed like he had been in these shinning mountains forever. He thought about everything this big red mule and he had been through, the day the Shoshone warriors had stolen Ol’ Red and Jenny, his sister along with the horses. He remembered how Ol’ Red had broken free from his captors and returned to him.
Zach felt his mule stretch out into a lope that he knew he could stay with all day long. Red wasn’t as fast as a horse but he had more staying power that any horse Zach had ever seen and he was as sure footed in the rough terrain as any animal around. He didn’t figure these thieving murderers would be in a hurry ‘cause they had killed everyone that was there and he thought he would catch up to them by nightfall.
Jimbo was staying a couple of hundred yards in the lead and the trail was as easy to follow as if it had been a road. Zach figured that there were at least six of them with pack horses and now they had another dozen horses they had stolen from Henry and his men. The trail was wide and torn up enough anyone could follow it and he had Jimbo, who could follow the scent of a bobcat that left no tracks at all. He wasn’t worried at all about losing the trail.
He had been traveling north ten or fifteen miles west of the Seeds-Kee-Dee when he’d first saw the black smoke. He was on his way to find the Shoshone village of Charging Bull, to give Bear Heart and White Feather the news about their daughters.
He had left his two wives, Sun Flower Woman and Shining Star, along with his partner, Running Wolf and his wife Raven Wing at their home on Black’s Fork. Raven Wing and Sun Flower were sisters and the daughters of Bear Heart and White Feather. While Running Wolf and Shining Star were brother and sister and were Uintah Ute’s from the village of Stand’s Tall.
The news he had for Bear Heart and White Feather was good. Their oldest daughter, Raven Wing, would soon give birth to their grandchild. And Shining Star his second wife would give birth to his first child not long after that. He hadn’t wanted to leave his family but his wives were insistent that he let their parents know. Shining Star had insured him he had plenty of time to make the trip before her time came and Running Wolf, his trusted brother-in-law, and best friend was there to care for and protect the women.
He whistled for Jimbo and the big dog stopped and looked back as Zach left the trail and started up a hill just south of the creek. Jimbo headed for his master and they met just before the crest of the hill. Zach dismounted and let the reins fall, he knew Ol’ Red would stay right there until he returned. With Jimbo by his side he crawled to the top of the hill where he could see several miles to the east. From there he could see the winding water way of the Seeds-Kee-Dee. He studied the creek bottom he had been following as it made its way to the river. The shadows were getting longer and he figured he only had another hour or so before sun down.
A thin line of smoke started from the trees where the creek entered the Seeds-Kee-Dee. Zach studied the lay of the land, he figured it was only three or four miles to where they had camped and so far, they hadn’t been watching their back trail. He thought that was mighty foolish for being in this wild land where hostile Indians from several different tribes could be hunting or raiding this time of year. He moved off the top of the hill and walked back to his mule, gave Jimbo a hand signal to follow the trail and the great Medicine Dog angled down toward the creek bottom and the trail left by the two dozen or more horses.
He knew he would be to their camp before dark so he slowed right down to a walk, Jimbo knew to stay within sight of his master so as Zach slowed so did his dog.
It was getting dark when he figured he was within a mile of the camp and he left the creek bottom to get off the main trail. He left Ol’ Red in a thick stand of brush that was several hundred yards from the creek. He checked the prime in his rifle and pistol, made sure his old Cherokee tomahawk and knife were in place on his belt then he and Jimbo started toward where he had seen the smoke.
2 Wilderness Justice
It was completely dark as he approached the camp. He was moving very slowly and as silent as a ghost. He checked the wind often to make sure the slight breeze was blowing their scent away from the horses.
When he was about 75 yards out he could see they had started two fires and could smell the meat they had roasting on stakes over the flames. His belly growled from hunger at the smell and he realized for the first time he hadn’t taken the time to eat today. He was down on one knee watching, making sure he knew where each and every one of them were when Jimbo suddenly tensed staring to their left. A moment later Zach heard footsteps, then saw the dark figure of a man walking back toward the fire.
He could tell he was a large man and as he approached the light of the fires the others moved out of his way. Zach figured he was the one in charge and it appeared the others were a little afraid of him. Zach had dealt with men like him before, men that couldn’t get along in a civilized world and had been finally driven to the wilderness to escape a rope around their necks. Most of this type hated the wilderness just like they hated life and the longer they were out here the meaner they become.
From where he was he could see five men but he had a feeling that was not all of them. Jimbo started a very soft low growl from way down in his chest and as Zach put his hand on the big dog’s head to silence him, he saw two more figures walking toward the fires from where the horses were tied. When they got to the light of the fire Zach was shocked to
see the smaller of the two was a woman with long blond hair.
He could barely believe his eyes, he hadn’t seen a white woman since his Pa and he had left St. Louis four years ago. He looked the ground over very closely in front of him to see if he could move in a little closer. He could hear them talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Moving with all the skill and practice a lifetime of living on the frontier and in the wilderness could teach him, he carefully inched closer until he could make out most of the words that were being said.
The big man that Zach figured was in charge told the woman, who he called Liz, to get more wood for the fire and she immediately left and brought back an armload of dry branches. After she added them to the fire he told her to sit down by him. She hesitated just a moment and he swung his arm and hit her in the back of the knees making her fall on her backside next to him. Then he wrapped his big hand around the back of her neck and squeezed until Zach could tell she was in real pain. He heard the big man say, “I done told ya before, you don’t please me an’ I’s gonna slice you open and leave ya fer da wolves ta finish off.”
Then one of the others said, “Skinner, if’n you don’t want ‘er no more don’t cut ‘er up, give ‘er ta us. We’s ain’t had a white woman since we’s left St. Louey, an’ dem last squaws we took was weeks ago.”
Skinner replied, “An’ you ain’t ever gonna get this one cause when I’s done with ‘er there ain’t gonna be nothin’ left.” Then Skinner stood, grabbed a handful of Liz’s blond hair and pulled her to her feet then led her away from the fire.
Zach knew he couldn’t do anything to help her right now but he was not going to let this group of cutthroats get away with everything he had witnessed this day. He stayed right where he was, hidden in the shadows with Jimbo right beside him until the rest broke up to go to their bedrolls. One tall lanky one said he’d take the first watch while the rest went to sleep.
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