Grizzly Killer: Under The Blood Moon

by Lane R Warenski

  Lester recognized Ben about the same time and that brought a big smile to his face then he looked at Cal and the smile disappeared as he realized the news he had to tell them was mighty bad. Ben’s first words were, “Howdy Les. Where’s Bull?” Trying to ignore Cal, Lester rode toward Ben saying, “I got terrible news fer ya Ben, your brother’s dead. He was killed by another trapper at the rendezvous over at Sweet Lake a little over a month ago.”

  There was stunned silence as the news sunk into Ben’s mind. Cal said, “Well ya gonna tell us what happened and who kilt him or do I have to beat it out of ya?” With a worried look Les looked at Ben and Ben said, “Let’s get down, build a fire and have some grub while you tell us what happened.”

  Cal and Ben were both silent as Lester told them the story of how the man called Grizzly Killer had beaten Bull in a fair fight. Then with fire in his eye’s Cal said, “An’ you worthless cowards just stood there and watched some no good Injun lover kill our brother?”

  Bill Fisher was one of the men with Lester and at being called a worthless coward he stood up and said, “No man is gonna call me a worthless coward, you bastard! You didn’t see the two dozen Injuns behind Grizzly Killer, or the other dozen trappers that were there makin’ sure it was a fair fight.”

  At that, Cal, without saying another word, pulled his pistol from his belt and shot Bill right in the chest. The force of the impact of the lead ball blew Bill backward several feet. He was dead before he hit the ground. There was silence and shock as Cal dropped the empty pistol and pointed his rifle at the group of stunned trappers. Cal stood and asked the rest, “Any of you other useless cowards don’t like the way I talk?”

  No one said a word and Cal told them “Now yer gonna show us where to find this Grizzly Killer.”

  Lester said, “Now Cal, we’s is goin’ back home and there jest ain’t no way a knowin’ where to find Grizzly Killer an’ his family with the Shoshone and Utes. The Flatheads, Crows and Nez Pierce all think mighty highly of him after he kilt Thunder Cloud, the Blackfoot war Chief so’s they will all help and protect him.”

  Cal looked at Ben then at Lester and with a look of pure hatred told them all, “Any one of you think you gonna leave ‘fore Bull’s killer is staked to a tree and skinned real slow is gonna be leavin’ with a knife in the gut.”

  Ben then stood up saying, “I don’t always agree with Cal, but Bull was our brother an’ we don’t know this country out here so we’s is gonna need ya’all ta help us find Grizzly Killer and the sooner we do the sooner ya all can be on yer way.”

  Ben helped Lester and the others bury Bill Fisher while Cal sat up on a hummock watching them. He was mean and sadistic but not stupid. He knew better than to turn his back on any of these men and that included his own brother. Ben was as big as Bull and looked a lot like him and although he was mean and mighty tough in a fight he wasn’t like his older brothers. He had a conscience and didn’t go out of his way looking for trouble. When Cal shot Bill Fisher, Ben was convinced he had gone mad and deep down wished he would have never left their Missouri farm. But he was here now and he was as determined to avenge Bull’s death as his oldest brother was.

  The men riding with Lester were being mighty quiet. There were Frank Carson, Joe Spencer and Abel Callaway. They shots looks back and forth to one another but none of them spoke. Joe just shook his head in disbelief as they turned around and headed west again along the Sweet Water River.

  None of them had any idea what was going to happen next but only ten miles behind them was a group of eight Cheyenne hunters looking for their missing brave. They had followed his tracks to the river and had found the blood where Cal had killed him and the drag marks where Ben had dumped his body into the river. They were now following the tracks of the spotted horse that they knew well west along the Sweet Water.

  Battle on the Sweet Water

  Forty miles further back, still camped on the bank of the North Platte, Peter, Jacob and the Finnegan brothers were just biding their time waiting for Abner Finnegan’s ribs to heal enough that he could ride. Their camp was a much happier, friendlier place after the Beaumont’s had left.

  As they were sitting around the campfire eating fresh hump ribs and drinking coffee, Jacob spoke to them saying, “I don’t reckon I ever did see a bigger, meaner feller than Cal Beaumont. Ben is mean but if’n he weren’t ‘round Cal he might not be so bad.” Abner said, “If me ribs were talkin’ they’d tell ye Ben is jest as bad as Cal.”

  Peter then spoke, “No Ab, Ben ain’t near as bad as Cal. He’s mean alright but only ‘cause he hasta be. If’n that brother they’s going to meet is anythin’ like Cal, Ben had ta get mean to survive. If’n Ben was on his own I can see some good in him but if he stays with that brother of his he’ll never be no good.”

  Peter figured they could make it to the Popo Agie in a week or just a little more. Abner felt bad that he was slowing them down and told them he could ride whenever they were ready. Peter told him that resting here for a few days would do them and their horses a lot of good. So he wasn’t in any big hurry to move on.

  On the evening of the second day, after Cal and Ben met up with Les Gooding and his group they stopped to camp on a bend of the river. Although there weren’t any trees there were a few willows on the river bank. They hadn’t seen any buffalo for a couple of day’s now but the Antelope were still plentiful both north and south of the river so they had plenty of fresh meat each day. Cal was still being careful not to turn his back on any of them and rode each day bringing up the rear with the rifle across his saddle ready for trouble. At night what little he slept he did so away from the others

  None of them knew, but the ten Cheyenne had been watching them most of the day. After Cal, Ben and the others camped for the night the Cheyenne moved a couple of miles off the river on the back side of some hills and set up a temporary camp. They built a small fire and danced around it asking the spirits to protect them in the upcoming battle. They painted their faces and horses turning this once jovial hunting party into a very formidable war party.

  It was just an hour before dawn as the Cheyenne spread out surrounding the camp of the unsuspecting white men. One of the younger warriors was too excited about the upcoming battle and wanting to prove his bravery, had crawled all the way up to the willows that were between the camp and the river and waited for dawn for the attack to start. Most of the other Cheyenne had stayed back in the sage a ways making sure they didn’t disturb the horses, alerting the trappers of trouble.

  The sky along the eastern horizon was just starting to lighten up when Joe Spencer couldn’t hold his water any longer and got up to relieve himself. He then threw a few sticks on the fire and blew the coals to life and added several hard, dry buffalo chips from the pile they had gathered the night before. He then picked up the coffee pot and headed through the willows to the river for water.

  Even though he had his rifle in one hand, he had the coffee pot in the other and was totally unprepared for seeing the painted face of an Indian just a few feet in front of him. He dropped the coffee pot and screamed, “Injuns,” but before he could even start bringing up his rifle a large stone securely tied to the end of a Cheyenne war club came down on his head crushing his skull. Before his body had hit the ground the young Cheyenne warrior rushed around him toward the others screaming his war cry.

  The others were now all scrambling out from under their robes getting their rifles in hand. The closest of the trappers to this wild screaming Cheyenne was Abel Callaway and he tried to jump out of the way of the deadly club but this young warrior was too fast. The club missed Ab’s head but he felt bones break as the heavy stone smashed into his shoulder. As he collapsed and hit the ground he was unable to move his right arm and a numbing pain was radiating down the whole side of his body. As the young warrior raised the club to strike again he saw a blinding flash of light from the other side of the fire and felt a terrible blow to this chest. He thought for just an instant that a horse had k
icked him but there weren’t any horses there. He felt like he was moving away from the fire for it was getting smaller and smaller and as the life faded from him he still felt like he was moving away. He could see his own body lying there but everything else was gone and he wondered where he was and where he was going.

  At the first shout of Joe Spencer the rest of the Cheyenne Warriors started their attack but most of them were still out in the sage and brush, too far to shoot their arrows. Ben could see he didn’t have time to reload after shooting the brave young warrior so he jumped over the fire to get Abel’s loaded rifle. Cal was now moving closer in with the rest of them but he was still the closest of the trappers to these charging, screaming Indians. Just as he fired his rifle and saw one warrior fall, he felt a sharp pain in his left leg as an arrow buried itself in his right thigh stopping only after the stone tip stuck into the bone. By now the other trappers had all fired and as Cal tried to get back to the fire a quick count told him there were only six Cheyenne still charging.

  Ben and Lester were side by side trying to reload as another of the Cheyenne rushed toward Ben. Cal fired his pistol and spun the warrior around just before he reached his brother. The warrior went down but was getting back up when Frank Carson kicked him in the face then smashed his rifle barrel across his head. Just as he was turning back toward Les and Ben an arrow hit him in the throat and as he fell, Les could see the stone head of that arrow sticking out of the back of his neck.

  The only weapon Cal had now was his knife and two Cheyenne were rushing him with their war clubs raised. He dove to the left and let out a cry when the arrow in his leg broke off as he hit the ground, but other than the involuntary cry he ignored the pain, rolled over and threw his knife into the closer of the two Cheyenne. As that one fell the other tripped over him and went down as well. Before this second warrior could get up Cal grabbed him by the arm and bent it back until he felt bone break then he pried the stone club from his hand and caved in the back of his head.

  The remaining three broke off their attack and were running up a small hill heading back to their horses. Cal heard a movement and then a moan came from the one his knife was in so he rolled him over with his foot. The obsidian eyes stared pure hatred at Cal as he reached down and slowly pulled his knife out of the Indians belly twisting it back and forth as he did so, then with an evil grin he bent over, slowly scalped him and left him to suffer as he slowly died. Ben and Lester had both fired again at the three retreating Cheyenne but the distance was great and neither of their shots found its mark.

  It was still the dim light of early dawn but Les could see that Frank was dead but he didn’t know about Joe. While Ben went over to help Abel, Les started looking for Joe. Just as he got through the willows going to the river he could see Joe lying in the trail, his sightless eyes staring up at the sky as the high thin clouds were turning from pink to a fiery red as the sun got closer to the horizon.

  As Les got back to the fire Ben was getting Abel’s arm in a sling. Abel looked up at Les through pain-filled eyes and could tell by the look on Les’s face that Joe was gone. Les never said a word just shook his head and looked down. Cal was by the fire digging the arrow out of his own leg when Les said, “Abel. I hope you kin ride ‘cause them Injuns might have friends close by, we best get Joe and Frank buried and be high-tailin’ it outa here.”

  Cal moaned and then cussed as he pried the stone tip of the arrow out of the bone in his upper leg. He then yelled at Ben to come over and wrap his leg to stop the bleeding. As Ben put a wrap around his leg he sarcastically said, “Hope that spotted horse was worth it.” Cal just stared at his brother but never said a word.

  Ben and Les dug one grave there by the willows and laid Joe and Frank in it side by side. As they stood there by the grave Les looked around and said, “This sure is a lonely place to spend the rest of time. But at least they’s together, they’s was pards in life and now in death.” They stood there in silence for just a minute then started shoveling the moist dirt from the river bottom over them.

  It was midmorning when they headed west still following the Sweet Water. They all kept looking back half expecting to see a large party of Cheyenne warriors on their trail, but as night fell they hadn’t seen a thing. Abel’s shoulder was bothering him something awful and by the expression on Cal’s face they could see his leg was mighty painful as well. Even though they all needed a rest they pushed on through the night getting as much distance as they could between them and the Cheyenne- wherever they may be.

  Three days later back on the Platte, Abner’s ribs were feeling better. They still hurt when he laughed or coughed but he figured he could ride unless they really got into some rough country. But Peter said they wouldn’t see anything rough for another week or more. So the next morning they headed out.

  They were moving at an easy pace so it was midday the following day when they hit the Sweet Water and started west again along its north bank. Jacob and Peter were taking turns riding point watching for any signs of Cal and Ben for none of these men trusted them and half expected an ambush. Jacob was on the hill a half mile in front studying the country when he spied a body stuck in the shallows of the river. He rode down to check it out and saw it was the body of a Cheyenne that had been stabbed and scalped. He rode back to tell the others what he had found.

  As they rode on Jacob took to riding point again only now Peter dropped back a quarter mile behind Abner and Sean and the pack horses to watch their back trail. Just before they figured to stop for the night Jacob came across the grave of Bill Fisher. He studied the tracks trying to figure what had happened. He could see where Cal and Ben had hidden from the group coming down river and where they had met up. He figured there must have been a fight where one of them got killed but then they all left together heading west again. He was pondering on just what could have happened and who was buried here when Sean and Abner caught up to him. They waited for Peter, then Jacob told them all what he had found studying the tracks.

  Peter was quietly listening to Jacob tell what he had read in the tracks then said, “Let’s eat here, then cross the river and camp on t’other side up one a dem draws where we’s cain’t be seen.”

  For the next couple of days, they stayed up on top of the breaks a mile or so south of the Sweet Water. They built their cooking fires before light in the mornings and after dark at night so the smoke couldn’t be seen and always down in a draw or swale so the light of the flames where hidden. They would go to the river each night and morning to water the horses covering their tracks as best they could each time.

  As they approached the river the second night for water they saw bodies lying in the clearing just on the other side of the willows across the river. While Sean and Abner watered the horses Peter and Jacob crossed the river on foot. They found the grave of Joe Spencer and Frank Carson and the bodies of the seven Cheyenne but it was hard to tell just what had happened because coyotes and wolves had been at the bodies. But there was no doubt in their minds there had been a battle here and they figured it was probably over the killing of the Cheyenne they had seen in the river a few days before. They wanted to know who was in the grave but neither of them wanted to dig it up to find out.

  They headed south of the river again making sure they covered their tracks as well as possible. Only now they moved even further south of the river through the dry rolling hills just a few days east of the great divide. The buffalo were plentiful now along with the antelope. Sean was becoming an accomplished hunter and kept them in fresh meat each day.

  Over the next couple of days, they found water and didn’t need to risk going to the river. Sean and Abner had been watching the mountains to the west and asked Peter and Jacob how far away they were, for it seemed they stayed just as far away after each day travel. Peter just smiled and told them, “We’ll be there within the week.”

  Three days later Peter was riding point, Abner was healed enough and now had gained the experience that he was riding the back t
rail while Jacob and Sean had the pack horses. Then about midmorning Peter noticed a slight trace of smoke coming from behind some hills a few miles ahead of them.

  Finding the Mighty Herd

  With Zach in the lead and Running Wolf bringing up the rear, Sun Flower, Shining Star and Raven Wing were in the middle, each leading a string of pack horses as they headed down Blacks Forks toward the Seeds-Kee-Dee. Jimbo was out front as he most always was and would come back every hour or so letting them know all was clear. It was August and the further from the Uintah Mountains they rode, the hotter and dryer it became. This was high desert country where it could be mighty hot during the day but get right cold at night. With clear skies and no problems, they reached where Ham’s Fork runs into Black’s Fork and camped there for the night.

  From there they headed cross country and reached the Seeds-Kee-Dee midafternoon the following day. After fording the river, they camped on its eastern bank in a stand of huge old cottonwoods. Running Wolf and Raven Wing left Grizzly Killer, Sun Flower and Shining Star to set up camp while they rode up the river to make meat.

  Zach had all the stock unloaded, watered and on the picket line when Running Wolf and Raven Wing came riding in with a yearling Mule deer buck tied onto the back of Running Wolf’s chestnut. The weather was staying clear so Sun Flower and Shining Star had just rolled out their sleeping robes under the canopy of the cottonwoods then went along the river bank looking for the edible plants they used so much this time of the year.

  While the two of them were gathering wild onion and sego lily root, Zach had put a pot of water on the fire. Running Wolf and Raven Wing skinned the buck and had fresh deer cut up and in the pot when Sun Flower and Shining Star returned. Raven Wing, with practiced skill, cut most of the meat off the bones giving plenty of the choice cuts to Jimbo who was standing watching every move she made. She added a little salt to the meat and wrapped it up in the green hide so it would last for a couple of days. Sun Flower and Shining Star cleaned and cut the onions and sego roots and added them to the boiling pot, added a little salt and let it simmer for a couple of hours. The sun was nearly down when they all sat around the camp fire and enjoyed the stew.