Suddenly Lance sat up and began to quote scripture.
"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters."
"Genesis, chapter 1, verse 2," said Horse. "Verse 1: In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth."
"I know some of it, but not all of it," declared Lance.
"I've studied on it," said Horse. "I know all the verses of creation. Verse 3: And God said, Let there be light: and there was light."
"This is my favorite verse," said Lance. "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth."
"Ahh," said Horse. "Verse 26. Now tell me, lad, how do you happen to know the Good Book so well?"
"Not so well, as I only learned my letters and a few words. But when I was little, Mammy, not my real Mammy, but the woman who raised me, would close the curtains of our shack and call for the sacred time . . ."
"What's that?" asked Eddy.
"Confound it, will you shut up and let him tell it in his own way?" growled Horse.
"Slaves were not supposed to have books or to know how to read or write. But Mammy, she was clever and she pretended not to know much, but to all of us down in the slave quarters, she taught us things, secretly, at night."
"Hold on," interrupted Fast Eddy. "You were in slave quarters?"
"For a smart feller, you sure are dumb," said Horse. "Go on, Lance."
"Those that worked in the fields were tired and all of us were hungry. Two things we always were, but somehow Mammy would have a little extra for us, some cheese and sometimes cornbread. She would gather a crowd of us: workmen, other mammys, and the children into her shack. By chimney light she would read from the Bible, a piece of it every night. And that's how's come I know a few words by chapter and verse. She also taught me how to talk proper. Of course I had to keep it secret and talk like a proper field slave around any of the white folks."
Fast Eddy was quickly learning that the smelly old man was clever, and much more than what he looked.
"That's a right fine story, Lance," said Horse. "We's mighty glad you shared it with us. Now after we git to know each other and do a little work and earn a little money, perhaps before we turn in each night, we could do some reading. I brought some mighty fine books and writers along. Fellers like Irving and Dumas and . . ."
"Could you teach me to read?" asked Lance.
"It would be my pure pleasure," replied Horse.
They rode along, bouncing over rough ground, the iron wheels rumbling, trace chains rattling, and steel shod hooves cutting and pounding into hard soil. They came to a wagon trail heading west and Horse pulled reins and turned the team onto it.
"Since we're gittin' to know one another, I'll tell you boys that I hired a couple men to go with me. That's how I happened to have all them supplies. They are gonna be some put out. But to tell you the truth, they were a couple fellers I used last year, and was plumb disappointed with. Two dumber fellers I never ran across. They could smell liquor two miles away, and I had to watch 'em. They'd rather sleep than work, drink than eat, and swear. They couldn't start or end a sentence without some cuss word crossin' their dirty mouths. I'm glad those two foul mouthed, tobacco chewin' fools missed the boat."
"We appreciate you taking us along with you," said Fast Eddy.
"I got a good feeling about you boys," said Horse. "How about you tellin' us, Fast Eddy, how you happened to git that name."
"Not hard to tell," said Eddy. "My Pa died when I was a kid. It was me and Ma and a couple sisters. There wasn't much and I had to find ways to bring home food. When I wasn't in school, or skippin' from it, I was always running errands. I would chop wood, deliver groceries, and load wagons. I had a knack for running and hustling. Kids began to call me Fast Eddy, and the name stuck. "
"How about you, Horse?" asked Eddy. "Maybe you could . . ."
"Well, boys . . . a real plainsman don't give away his thunder by tellin much."
"After all we told you, you say something like that?" complained Fast Eddy.
"Old man's privilege. The Indians, they don't reveal nothin less they have a reason behind it. They believe a feller that shares, gives away some of his power. Now I reckon I can tell you somethin' . . . when the time is right."
Horse stopped speaking and when the rough wagon trail took a turn to the right, he guided the horses forward and onto a patch of stones and hard ground. The flinty earth turned into a hill which the horses climbed. Hooves rang on stone, and the iron wheels grated loudly.
"Might lose any fellers followin'," commented Horse.
The team pulled the wagon to the top of the hill and on the other side and down in a deep draw was a sparkle of water. Horse reined to a stop and reached for a sheathed rifle. He pulled off the leather covering, raised a Spencer to his shoulder, and in one quick movement, aimed and fired. The report sounded loudly and then echoed. Neither Eddy nor Lance saw what the old man fired at. The oldster reloaded his rifle and set it down behind him.
"Boys," said the old man, "always keep your weapons loaded."
Grabbing the reins, Horse slapped the team across their rumps, and they headed down rocky ground. They came to a deep wash and again reins were pulled.
"Lance," said Horse, "suppose you climb down and bring up that mule deer. Six pointer, if I don't miss my guess."
By the time Lance found and dragged the deer up onto flat ground, Horse had his skinning knives out. Both younger men watched the old man cut the neck and open the belly. For a moment he worked on the rear and then pulled out the end of the intestines through an incision. A few quick cuts around the diaphragm, and a few more at the crotch and the old man held the full bladder. Tossing this to the ground, the plainsman turned the deer and the guts and entrails spilled out. Cutting up into the breast bone, the man reached in and pulled down the esophagus. A long corrugated white tube appeared in his hands, and now all the innards lay on the ground completely separated from the deer. The old man lifted the hindquarters so that blood drained from the open belly cavity.
"Don't waste the liver and heart," said Horse, bending down over the guts and making a few more cuts.
The oldster threw the heart and then parts of the liver into the empty cavity of the deer.
"Eddy," directed Horse. "You lay out this here tarp in the back of the wagon. Then you two boys grab the legs and throw the carcass on it. Be sure to tuck in the canvas to keep the flies out."
The two did as they were told, and then they got back aboard the wagon. Horse turned south and along the wash.
"We're gonna eat mighty fine tonight, boys!" declared Horse. "Haw, haw, haw!"
They rode some distance in silence and then Horse explained.
"We'll camp early tonight. We need to cook up that meat so it won't spoil. I don't figure anyone is following, but if they do, we'll set camp so's we're ready for 'em."
Horse did exactly as he told them. In late afternoon he headed the team to a stand of water, and let them drink. He did the same with the mustangs that had followed behind. Then he turned the wagon towards a distant hill and climbed it. On top was a copse of heavy brush and trees. Horse drove the wagon into it.
"Now you boys watch what I do and then from now on, it's your job."
The old-timer unharnessed the team. He found a sack of items he needed from the wagon, and pulled out hobbles, picket pins, and ropes. He picketed the draft horses and hobbled the mustangs. Then he had the younger men take the deer from the back of the wagon and set it some distance from camp. Horse began cutting up the meat.
"You fellers gather firewood and roll some rocks for a fire pit."
In a short time they had a fire going, the surrounding brush hiding the smoke. Horse arranged forked sticks and hung strips of venison on them above the f
lames. He cut up the liver and sliced the heart and placed the meat in a large iron skillet. Taking water from a barrel, he filled a coffee pot and set it to boil. In a half hour the three men were eating and drinking coffee. The plainsman cooked the rest of the meat, wrapped and placed it in a bag which he hung with a rope from the tallest tree.
There were several old logs that lay scattered. They dragged them up onto the hill to form a square barrier. Then the old man took out the rifles and laid them in a line along the logs.
"You two put out that fire. Won't never be no light at dark. The brush might hide the fire, but there's still smoke to worry on. And, at night, the glow can be seen a long ways. If we're to keep our hair, we got to mind our manners and do nothin' foolish. The rule out here is to never reveal your presence when you don't have to."
"What about when we're shooting buffalo" began Eddy, "and leaving their – "
"We take our chances when we're shootin' and harvestin'," replied Horse. "At night, we move off and do our best to hide our camp. And we always take to high ground. When you see buffs for the first time, you'll know why."
With nothing else left to do, the men found their bedrolls and laid them out behind the fort of logs. At dark, the old man turned in, and it wasn't long before the two young men heard him snoring.
"What do you think?" whispered Lance.
"He's a peculiar old fellow," Fast Eddy whispered back. "Full of all kinds of twists and turns. I just wish he'd take a bath."
"Do you think Miss Lilly has men after us?"
"She was plumb mad and she wanted us dead. But I been thinking on it. For her to keep her power, she has to find another man like Big Mississippi, and that will be some doing. She'll run to the law for sure, there'll be posters on us, but I don't know how much further she'll go."
"We'll have to stay away from Missouri," said Lance.
Chapter Six
At sunrise they ate breakfast, hitched the horses, loaded the wagon, and descended down onto the prairie. They traveled west, looking for the migrating herd. Days passed, and then one morning they awoke surrounded by buffalo. Lance and Fast Eddy were amazed and could barely believe their eyes. Now they knew why Horse had them camp on plateaus and high hills.
For miles, as far as the eye could see, there were buffalo. They passed by, slowly grazing on the tall prairie grass. It was June and the sun had not yet baked the grass to a straw yellow. The large, horned, shaggy beasts passed along, shuffling their hooves, and kicking up a thick haze of dust. The herd contained thousands, tens of thousands, of animals, maybe more. Eddy and Lance waited and hours passed and still the buffalo grazed along on all sides. No words could describe the experience. There must have been millions in that giant herd. Towards afternoon both younger men began to actually fear the many beasts they faced.
"If that herd ever stampeded," laughed Horse, "you'd be stomped like bug juice. The horses, the wagons, everything we have would be broken to bits. Don't look away, boys, it's God's own creation. There can't be a bigger herd of animals on all the earth. A gift that won't never be wiped out."
"When do we start shooting?" asked Eddy.
"We'll let this giant herd pass," said the old man. "Many will break off to graze. We look for bunches of fifty or less. Then's the time to pick a place to make a stand, and start shootin'."
The day after the migrating herd passed southward, they found a group of thirty animals grazing in a thickly grassed meadow. Horse parked the wagon and came back after finding the buffalo.
"You two follow me," said Horse. "We'll sneak in and set up a stand. Today I'll do the shootin' and you'll see how it goes."
The three men climbed a small hill, dropped to all fours, and crawled to the top. Behind a clump of grass, Horse set up a shooting stick and with him were four rifles. Two of them were the new Sharps and two were old double triggered Hawkens .50 caliber.
"I'll shoot and you load," ordered Horse. "Always use a shooting stick. A rifle shot low to the ground carries vibration and scares away the buffs."
The leader of the herd seemed to be a large female. Horse pointed it out, along with several large males.
"It's her I shoot first," said Horse. "Now you see me making a stand and shooting them buffs from a little under 200 yards. Get any closer and the sound of the gunshot will scare them off. For some reason, at that distance they don't seem to run from the noise, or from dead animals. It's only when they smell blood or get spooked. Sometimes it happens with no reason, but most times they just stand and takes it until I drop 'em all. You can do this day after day. The ones that escape don't seem to remember the killin' from the day before. It's mighty strange how they don't run at the first shot. Magnificent animals, but when not chased and in a herd, they're mighty dumb brutes."
"How many bullets does it take to kill a buffalo?" asked Fast Eddy.
"It takes a big caliber rifle and plenty of powder," said Horse. "But it has to be a neck shot. From experience, it's the neck shot that brings them down. You'll learn, boys, to hold your breath and squeeze. It ain't economical to shoot more than once."
The big shaggy beasts grazed the tall grass, biting and chewing as they slowly moved along. Horse found what he thought was the leader and dropped her. A few animals close by jumped or sidestepped at her sudden fall, her large weight collapsing heavily to the ground as her legs went out from under her. Horse took another rifle and fired, and this buff simply fell over sideways, with a thump. Other animals jumped, stared for a moment, and then went back to grazing. Lance and Eddy could not believe their eyes. Horse kept firing and animal after animal collapsed and fell. After more than twenty shots, a bullet entered a large male and the animal grunted. The bullet did not kill the buff, and its front legs collapsed but not its rear. The animal grunted again, turned in a circle, and its shaggy head twisted violently in the earth, kicking up dust. The herd took notice and then one animal grunted and started to run and the remaining ten followed. Within moments the remnants of the small herd were gone. The old man shot the big wounded male one more time, and he fell over dead.
"Now begins the real work, boys," said Horse.
Horse left the rifles, all four fully loaded, and went back for the wagon. He returned and put the weapons close to hand. He saddled one of the riding horses, a tough little mustang and brought it to the men. Then he pulled out a large bundle of skinning knives and laid them out.
"You fellers watch and learn," said Horse.
The old-timer went to the first animal and began cutting. His movements were quick and well practiced. He had the hide cut from crotch to neck and he began skinning the beast, carefully slicing away fat and connective tissue. When he had cut all the way to the backbone, he stood up and went after the saddled horse. Using a rope, he tied it to the four hooves of the buffalo and placed a loop over the pommel. The horse doing the work pulled on the rope and the dead animal slowly turned over, exposing its un-skinned side.
"You saw how I cut away the hide. Have at it boys and don't you be slicing holes in it. When you get the whole thing loose, she'll weigh over a hundred and fifty pounds. Call when you're finished and I'll show you how to peg it out, flesh side up. In a few days, the ones we lay out will be dried and we'll roll them lengthwise in lots of ten, tie the bale and load them on the wagon."
Lance couldn't get over the size of the creature. There was a distinct smell to the animal and exposing the guts and fresh red meat to the air sickened him. The fat was white and sticky and it too had its distinct odor. Flies began to gather, and the smell of gut and fecal matter increased as the minutes passed and the hot sun baked the dead carcasses. The useless waste immediately made Lance regret ever agreeing to the task at hand. Still, he cut at the hide, breathing shallowly, and finishing as quickly as he could.
They worked at it the rest of the afternoon. Horse could skin two animals to every one that Fast Eddy and Lance labored on. By evening, they had twenty-one hides staked out, flesh side up. It was a disturbing sight to see the w
hite hides baking in the sun. Worse were the bloody naked carcasses of the dead buffalo, giant humps of flesh on their sides, indiscriminately lying in the grass. Black horns gleamed in the sun, their shaggy heads still with the fur on, revealing what were once splendid living beasts.
"Good job, boys," said Horse. "We'll camp on that rise over yonder and try to stay close until the hides are dry. The wolves, coyotes, and other critters will be busy chewing on the meat and leave the hides alone. For the most part."
"How can you be proud of something like this?" asked Lance, revealing his disgust.
"That's money, son," said Horse, "free for the taking."
"It's not right," replied Lance. "No man should kill and make such waste."
"You signed on, big man, and you'll do the work or . . ."
"I'll do it," said Lance, "but I don't have to like it."
"There are many things in life a man does . . . and liking has nothin' to do with it," said Horse.
They camped for the night on a slight knoll near the staked hides. After breakfast of buffalo steak, Horse rode out looking for another small herd. He wasn't gone long.
"I found a bunch of about twenty," he said. "I'll take a stand and shoot again today. I'll do that this morning by myself. When the shooting stops, you bring the wagon and we'll cut up the hides. When it's done, in the afternoon, I'll have you two practice shootin'. I figure by dark that you boys will have the knack."
When the gunshots ended, Lance drove the wagon and Eddy rode the other mustang toward the rifle fire. They found Horse and in the distance they saw more than twenty downed buffalo, their dark fur rustling in the wind under the hot sun. Again, they went to skinning. It was a dirty, laborious, disgusting job.
"This sure is rotten work," complained Eddy, brushing away the swarm of flies.
"I don't know what is worse," said Lance, "the stink or the sight of them lying dead without their fur on."
West of the Big River: Boxed Set of Eight Western Novels Page 49