Tess's Trials

by C Wayne Winkle

  Her stomach began growling again, as fierce as ever.

  Another hundred yards further on, she stumbled over another cistern. Such natural basins often held water for a short time after a rain. Or, as in this case, after a storm dumped snow or ice over an area. Usually small in size, the water typically evaporated quickly under the sun’s attack. Animals learned where these cisterns were and would make sure to drink their fill when possible. The same cisterns saved many a traveler’s life, and likely took many, also. That would happen when a traveler counted on water being in the cistern, and it turning out to be dry.

  The second one Tess found held less than a gallon in a small basin with sand around most of it. Tracks of many tiny animals showed in the sand.

  “Sorry little critters,” she mumbled. “But I’ve got to have this water.”

  There was that habit again. The one many wandering men, and women, picked up of talking out loud, even though alone, just to hear human conversation. When she had filled her stomach again, she felt a little better. Glancing around as she rested, her gaze roamed across what looked like a tree limb stuck between two large rocks.

  I should get that. It might come in handy. For sure, it will give me more support as I walk, and I could use it as a club if need be .

  The limb may not have been there long. It probably was carried there by one of the major storms over the last few days. About eight feet long, it was as thick as a small man’s wrist. Tess grabbed it easily with both hands and pulled it from between the rocks. A slight bend in the wood right near the middle of it provided a solid handhold.

  She set off again, staff in hand.

  Making her way through a part of the prairie that was all jumbled up with rocks tumbled everywhere, she said a little prayer of thanks that she had the staff.

  In a short while, her stomach began cramping because she had nothing to put in it. With the cramps came a slight nausea. But more important was the loss of energy that accompanied the cramps. It seemed like all of a sudden her muscles turned to water. She had to stop and lean on her staff for a few minutes to build up the strength to go on.

  Starting off again, she felt scared.

  Her steps became slower, more labored. When she lifted her feet, it felt like the ground reached out and tried to hold them tight. Each time she managed to lift one foot, it dragged along the ground instead of clearing it. This raised a lot of dust and her feet found lots of rocks. She stumbled and nearly fell a couple of times. This kind of walking also put more pressure on the sandals she’d fashioned, wearing them out faster.

  The longer she walked, the more she felt the impact of the sun. It hit her head like a physical blow, making her dizzy at times, lightheaded nearly all the time. Her breath came harder with every step. And it wasn’t even summer yet.

  Hunger haunted her relentlessly. Stomach pains wracked her midsection without ceasing. At times, they nearly bent her double.

  She went on like that for another half-mile. Her progress slowed due to the loss of energy. The stomach rumbles and cramps continued, grew worse. Once, she pulled up some new growth of grass and stuffed the tender shoots in her mouth. With no moisture there, she could barely chew the shoots. Swallowing them proved impossible. Instead, she spat the wad of grass out onto the ground.

  That wad of grass lying there on the ground seemed symbolic of her trials somehow.

  A scatter of rocks under a small grove of trees held another small cistern with water in it. The half-gallon or so hadn’t evaporated because of the shade of the trees. It tasted just as cold and sweet as the other had. When she finished, enough water to cover the bottom of the small basin remained. She stayed, lying there, for a few minutes trying to gather strength to push on.

  She either passed out or went to sleep because the sun rode past the top of the sky when she opened her eyes again. A sigh, and she grunted her way to her feet. Once there, she stood another moment leaning on her staff.

  While she stood there, growls sounded from the direction of what looked like a drop-off about twenty yards from her. Then she heard a cow bawl from the same area.

  What in the world?

  She made her way slowly to the edge of the drop-off and saw a cow standing another twenty yards away. As Tess could see, the cow had just given birth, but the calf was nowhere to be seen. The cow bawled again. Her gaze was fastened on something a little way to Tess’s left.

  The growls drew Tess’s attention to that same spot. Two coyotes worried at something lying on the ground.

  The coyotes looked to be youngsters, maybe last year’s pups. Both were thin. She could see their ribs through the gray hair that covered their bodies. One had a scar that ran from its left eye down under its jaw. Both of them acted very hungry.

  Then she saw what they worked on. The body of the just-delivered calf lay at the

  bottom of the drop-off. Apparently, something went wrong with either the pregnancy or delivery. It looked like the calf never got to its feet after the birth.

  It had to be something like that. The mother cow wouldn’t have let the coyotes get close enough to her calf to kill it as it was born. The only explanation for the scene below was that the calf was stillborn.

  But it was food! If she could get it.

  Could she get down there? And if she did, could she drive the coyotes away?

  That first question proved easy. All she had to do was slide down on her butt. Only about fifteen feet high, the drop-off would be easy to slide down.

  The other question might be harder to answer. She had the strong staff and a knife. Like many people who chose to live on the frontier, she’d heard the stories of survival from both current and older times. Especially the tale of Hugh Glass, who survived an attack by a grizzly, abandonment by those left behind to bury him, and a three-hundred plus mile journey to safety. Crawling! Glass had driven wolves from a fresh kill to claim the meat for himself. And this with no weapons!

  Tess thought about this for a few seconds. He did that with less than I have, and he was in worse shape. I should be able to scare off two mangy coyotes . She paused, the reality of her situation sinking in. If I don’t do this, I probably won’t make it back home .

  From somewhere deep at her core, she pulled up a burst of energy, possibly the last she had in reserve. Sitting down with her legs hanging off the edge of the drop-off, she gave a little push and scooted down the slope on her butt. She used her heels to slow her slide so she wouldn’t go tumbling down and hurt herself.

  Both coyotes lifted their heads from the calf’s stomach and watched this strange creature slide down toward them. Neither seemed concerned. One put its head down and pulled off a chunk of meat from the carcass. The other growled, then joined the first once more.

  Tess made it to the bottom of the drop-off and stood. The coyotes both raised their heads again. After a moment staring at her, both growled more.

  As she stood, Tess gathered her skirt in one hand and flared it out so she would look bigger. She figured size mattered when trying to scare coyotes.

  “Hiii-yahhh!” she croaked, holding up the staff for emphasis. “Get away from that, you coyotes!” Her voice grew stronger as she kept yelling and advancing. “That’s my food!”

  At first, the coyotes jumped back a few feet when they heard her voice. They had lived long enough to associate the human voice with bad things happening to them.

  Tess continued yelling and walking purposefully toward the coyotes. “Hiii-yahhh! Get away! I’m going to eat that calf!”

  After retreating another couple of steps, the coyotes seemed to realize she didn’t have a gun. This gave one of them the false hope he could make her go away by growling, raising his hackles, and stepping forward.

  It didn’t work.

  The aggressive coyote came in range of the staff Tess now held in both hands over her head. She brought the staff down on the coyote’s head with all the force she could. It knocked him flat on his belly.

  With a yelp of hurt a
nd surprise, the coyote jumped to its feet again and ran. After five seconds’ hesitation, the other coyote ran after him.

  Tess watched them for a long minute to be sure they were gone. Then she turned to the calf. Sure enough, it had been stillborn. At least as far as she could tell.

  She turned her attention to the cow standing and staring at her from a distance. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ve got to eat your calf so I can stay alive. If you’re one of ours, you’ll get another chance.”

  The altercation with the coyotes took a lot out of Tess. She sank down on the ground next to the calf’s carcass and just sat for a time. Every so often, she glanced in the direction the coyotes ran. She got a glimpse of one of them ducking around a rock two hundred yards away. As soon as she left the calf, they would be back on it. When she turned back to the cow, she had lowered her head and began to graze.

  Tess pulled the Indian boy’s knife from its sheath and tested the edge of the blade. It was still sharp.

  “Hope it’s sharp enough,” she muttered. “I don’t have the strength to saw through this meat.”

  She sliced thin strips from the young muscles of the calf. Eating slowly, Tess filled her belly with the meat. As she did, she felt hope growing once more.

  She ate as much as she could, resting frequently to let her stomach get used to food once more. When she reached the point of complete fullness, she cut a few more long, thin strips to carry with her. She didn’t know how long the meat would stay good, but figured she could get at least one more meal from it.

  After that? She simply didn’t know.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  That same day Tess left the cave that saved her, and the coyote’s, life, Rafe and Merita crawled out of their shelter. His belief that it would be a long night when they first crawled in it proved true. The next day and night were equally long. The fire ate up wood tremendously fast, so he could do no more than doze for a few minutes at a time before having to add wood to the fire or go outside to find more. And when he settled back under the blankets, Merita had fixed them so they covered both of them. And she scooted as close to him as she possibly could.

  Now, outside the shelter in a warming day, he felt vastly more comfortable. He checked their horses while Merita put together something for breakfast.

  After giving both horses a bit of corn he brought along for that purpose, Rafe saddled both. They seemed to come through the ice storm with no problem.

  By the time he finished, Merita had their small breakfast ready. He noticed she managed to comb her black hair also. She smiled up at him as she handed him a plate.

  “I hope you like it,” she said almost with an apology in her voice. “We’re starting to run low on food, so I did the best I could.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he replied with a tiny smile. “I’ll try to kill an antelope or something today.”

  Rafe walked outside with his plate, thinking. We sounded like an old married couple just then.

  An hour later they sat their horses on top of a small rise. Rafe searched the horizon for any movement that might signal a herd of antelope they wanted to see or riders they didn’t want to see.

  Nothing moved except the grass in the wind.

  “See anything?” Merita asked.

  “Nope. Nothin’ movin’.”

  Both of them kept quiet for several minutes. They continued scanning the land around them. Rafe grew uneasy at staying exposed as they were.

  “Best get down from this hill,” he said. “Too much of a chance we could be spotted.” He nodded toward another small hill about a half mile in front of them. “Let’s back down th’ way we come up an’ ride around to that hill. Maybe we can cut some sign over on th’ other side of it.”

  “You think we might find the wagon tracks again?” Merita turned in her saddle and pointed in a different direction. “I thought the last tracks we saw were headed that way.”

  Rafe turned to see where she pointed. “Don’t think so,” he said. “But we can ride over there if there’s nothin’ on th’ other side of that hill.”

  They took their time getting down the hill and around to the other one. Raising a dust cloud would likely draw unwanted attention to them.

  Once they got to the far side of the other hill, Rafe noticed the familiar deer-like tracks of antelope. He pointed them out to Merita.

  “Those look pretty fresh. Let’s follow ‘em a ways an’ see if we can catch sight of ‘em.”

  They followed the tracks for a good hour. At one point, the antelope had crossed and then paralleled the wagon tracks that Rafe and Merita had lost. This lifted his spirits some, knowing they were once more on the trail of finding Tess.

  Another hour they rode following the antelope tracks that still paralleled the wagon tracks. Although the ice storm destroyed a lot of the wagon tracks, Rafe picked out enough of them to be certain of the way they went.

  Their nooning took place in the shade of some willows growing around a spring that emerged from some rocks. A pool about thirty feet across made a green oasis in this land of brown and tan.

  As Rafe gnawed a piece of jerky washed down by fresh water from his canteen, he kept an eye on the country ahead of them. Off in the distance, he saw an upthrust of rock that formed a wall rising from the dust. It rose up about a mile away from where he stood. Cruising the thermals above it, a half-dozen vultures appeared to be investigating something on the ground.

  Must be somethin’ down over there. We’ll have to go see what it is .

  He started to turn and say this to Merita when movement caught his eye. Walking across the land away from the wall he’d just seen were the antelope. Then or fifteen of them, ambling along toward a small rise in the land ahead. They didn’t hurry, but made directly for the rise.

  “Merita!” he said, keeping his voice low. “The antelope are just ahead probably a mile.”

  She eased up beside him, gazing in the direction he pointed. “Where are they going?”

  “Looks like they’re headed toward that rise off to the right.” Rafe took another swallow from his canteen. “We’ll let ‘em get beyond it, then ride on that way.”

  Back in the saddle after the antelope disappeared behind the hill, Rafe pulled his

  Winchester from its saddle scabbard and rode with it across his saddle bow. He knew he might only get a quick shot at one of the antelope, so he wanted to be ready.

  The antelope saved them.

  They rode to within a hundred yards of the little rise when the antelope burst out from behind it. All of them ran at full speed away from the rise.

  Rafe pulled up, motioning Merita to do the same. “Somethin’ spooked those antelope,” he said, low-voiced. “Let’s sit here a minute an’ see if whatever it was comes out.” He raised the rifle part way to his shoulder.

  In a few more minutes, more movement came from the near end of the rise. A group of five horsemen rode slowly out into the open and stopped suddenly. One of them yelled something and someone fired a pistol, even though they were clearly far out of range.

  Rafe raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired off four quick shots. Those shots served to scatter the horsemen. More than one was bucked off. He shoved the rifle back into its scabbard.

  “Let’s go!” he yelled to Merita. “It’s those raiders!”

  His buckskin knew to stand firm while Rafe shot from his back. He also knew to run when his master’s heels hit his flanks.

  Merita’s horse caught up to the buckskin, and the two of them raced across the prairie. Rafe kept a watch on the ground ahead of them and horsemen behind.

  The raiders regained their horses and started after Rafe and Merita. They rode good, fast horses. In a short while, they began closing the gap.

  Merita glanced over at him. “Did you hit any of them?”

  “Doubt it,” Rafe yelled back. “Too far off for a good shot.” He took a quick look back over his shoulder. “We’ve got to find a place to fort up an’ drive ‘em off. Look for a bunc
h of boulders or trees or somethin’.”

  Lying beside the carcass of the calf enjoying her full belly, Tess heard the first shot, followed by the four rifle shots. She knew that couldn’t be a good thing, but had to see what was going on. Carefully, she eased her head up enough to see over the grass growing all around her.

  At first she saw nothing, but heard the thudding of galloping horses. They came from her left, riding hard along the wall of the drop-off behind her.

  “Rafe!” she whispered as she recognized him.

  Tess started to struggle to her feet and yell at him, but the person with him turned around in the saddle and fired a couple of shots at someone behind them. She stayed low and heard more shots from further to her left.

  Five more riders thundered by, firing at Rafe and his companion. She recognized Whitehorse in the lead.

  Slowly, so as not to attract attention, she eased back down to the ground.

  “Don’t waste your shots,” Rafe called to Merita who emptied her pistol at the pursuing raiders. “We may need all we have to drive ‘em off.”

  She stared hard at him for a moment, then focused ahead again.

  In a short time, Rafe saw a small stand of trees ahead. Probably growing around a source of water, the cottonwoods weren’t tall, but there were a dozen or more of them.

  “Head for those trees!” he yelled to her.

  They turned their horses and ran for the small grove. Just outside the sheltering trees, they pulled the horses to a stop. Rafe grabbed his rifle out of the scabbard and tossed the buckskin’s reins to Merita.

  “Take ‘em into th’ trees where they’ll be safer from bullets.” He fired off two fast shots at the raiders. “Tie ‘em tight, so they can’t get loose.”

  The raiders certainly didn’t want them to reach the trees, so they had pushed their horses hard to catch them. That brought them within range of Rafe’s rifle before they could stop and spread out. His next shot emptied a saddle, the raider throwing up his hands and tumbling backward off the horse.