Fast Eddy looked over from the buff he was skinning and nodded his head. Both men were already covered in gore, their clothes stained red from the previous day and the mornings work. Horse cut the fur off the dead animals and again he managed to be twice as fast as the young men. In the afternoon, they finished staking out the hides, wet side up. Lance went to a water barrel and began trying to clean the blood and gore off his hands.
"That there water is for drinkin, not for cleanin," said Horse.
"I have to wash this stink off," said Lance.
"Want to do that, do what the buffs do. Roll around in the grass, use the sand, but wastin' our drinkin' water ain't it."
Lance stopped using water and he tried wiping his hands and arms clean on the tall prairie grass. Eddy gathered clumps and attempted to clean his hands and arms as well. Then he used bundles of stems to wipe at his blood soaked clothes.
"This doesn't remove the smell," said Fast Eddy.
"First water hole we reach, we'll wash up," said Lance. "But I don't think I'll ever get the stink out of my nostrils."
"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed Horse. "You tenderfoots haven't even started! Wait till the clothes you're wearing can stand up and walk by themselves, and then you'll be real buff hunters!"
After a brief rest, Horse began to instruct both younger men on the finer art of loading and firing a Sharps .44. He gave each man one of the rifles and had him load and began firing.
"You ain't holding your breath and squeezing the trigger. You got to hold steady and wish the bullet to your mark. Do what I tell ya! Look… you put the sights on your target. You take a big breath, hold it, and slowly squeeze the trigger and let the rifle go off by itself."
It took dozens of shots before Lance and his partner began to hit their mark. It was evident that Lance was going to be the better marksman.
"Eddy, you don't listen," said Horse. "Maybe you better pretend that target yonder is one of those men who's chasing you down. It's you or him. First man that hits its mark, lives. He who don't, dies. You got to feel where that bullet goes. Keep shootin' the way you do, and someday when it counts, you'll miss and end up dead."
After that advice Eddy concentrated more and for the first time began to hit a piece of buffalo hide Horse had marked and pinned onto a dead buffalo.
"All right, boys," said Horse. "I taught you all I can teach a man using a rifle. The rest is up to you. Now let's have a go at using that big ol' Dragoon. First step is learning to load."
Lance had no trouble holding the heavy Colt .44 pistol. It fit perfectly in his large hand as if specially made for him. It didn't take long and he was hitting his target at forty feet. The same pistol was too big for Fast Eddy. To fire it, he had to hold it with both hands, and the heavy recoil made the pistol twist in his grasp. Only after he lost his fear of handling the weapon, was he able to hit the target.
"You need a lighter pistol, Eddy," said Horse. "But that there Dragoon will be mighty handy in a pinch. It can knock down anything you shoot at, and believe me, for man, bear, or buffalo, that there is some shooter."
Again they camped atop a knoll near to the latest stand.
"First time I ate a buff steak, I thought it was the best meat I ever tasted," said Fast Eddy. "That distinct sweet flavor, never thought I would ever tire of it. But eating this meat three times a day is getting old."
"Git used to it," said Horse. "We got to make the supplies we brought last. We got all that free meat and we ain't going to throw it out."
Towards evening, clouds began to form on the southern horizon. Near dark there was a low rumble of thunder and a flash of light.
"Boys," said Horse, "looks like we're in for a blow."
"Good," said Lance. "Give us a chance to get clean."
"Storms out here can be dangerous," said the old-timer. "Rain can flood a plain and fill a dry wash to a raging river, wind can blow a man down, lightning can cleave a tree. I seen where it started grass fires that blow across the land as fast as a man can run, and boys, you don't never want to be caught in one of them. If lightning starts to strike, run for it. Them iron tires on the wagon, and those rifles, can draw lightning like a mother to a child."
From their camp they watched the distant storm pass to the south and once again the sun peeked through thick clouds. Then a large patch of blue appeared as the sun set.
"Looks like the storm passed us," said Horse.
Tired and having nothing else to do, they turned in for the night.
"Can't hardly stand this stink," said Lance. "Hope it rains tonight after all, maybe they'll be a pond and we can wash up in the morning."
The oldster laid out the rifles as he did every night, loaded and ready behind a rock parapet. The old man always demanded that some type of fort or barrier be built. Some encampments had no trees or rocks and then Horse would make Eddy and Lance dig a hole.
"Got to be prepared," explained Horse.
The frontiersman seemed to never have trouble sleeping. For a man who was careful on the plains, he sure snored loudly. Eventually Eddy and Lance fell asleep.
A terrific blast broke the quiet of the night, making dark into daylight, shaking the ground, and deafening the three men. Horse was immediately up and yelling.
"Lightning!" screamed the old man. "Knock those rifles down and push that wagon off the hill!"
More lightning strikes hit, one after another, and it seemed as if the night was gone. Arcs of light, too intense for the eyes to endure, lit up the sky. The dark image of the old man was brightly exposed as he stood knocking over the line of rifles. A lightning bolt struck the top of Horse's head. The bright electric flash tore through his body, smoke billowed, raised his hair, tore his clothing, and the bolt exited and traveled along the ground. In the flash of light, both Eddy and Lance, still on their bedrolls, clearly saw the gruesome sight. Then other lightning bolts struck, hit the wagon repeatedly, and fire erupted around an iron wheel. More smoke billowed and flames spread across the wagon.
Eddy hurried to Horse and then lightning struck again and Eddy fell. Lance jumped from his blankets and raced to Eddy, threw him over his shoulders and ran down the hill. At the bottom, he placed Eddy on the ground. They both lay prone as the lightning and blowing storm raged around them. At the top of the hill, grass was now burning as well as the wagon, and a wind blew at a terrific force, howling fiercely. Flames pushed down the hill and towards where the two men lay. Once again, Lance picked up his partner and in bare feet hurried away from the rushing fire.
A wall of flames headed toward Lance and he feared that they would over-take them. This was exactly as the old man had described. Lightning flashed once more at the top of the hill, a terrific fork of white hot heat, followed by deafening thunder. Then it was as if the sky cracked in two, and a cascade of water fell, drenching the flames. The water poured as if thrown from buckets and in a moment the dry ground turned to grease. Sticky mud slid under Lance's bare feet and he fell, Eddy coming down hard on top of him. The fall brought the other man to consciousness.
"What? What's happened?" asked Eddy.
"Lightning struck and knocked you out," shouted Lance above the sound of the wind and pouring rain. "It started a fire and I picked you up and ran."
They both stared up at the knoll and, despite the heavy rain, areas of grass, bushes, and the wagon were still engulfed in flames. As the rain poured on, they watched the fires ebb and then go out.
"Did you see the old man?" asked Eddy. "He . . . he was struck in the head. I saw the bolt go through him and then hit and travel along the ground. He fell and when I ran towards him there was smoke . . ."
"I saw it too," said Lance. "Let's wait the storm out and . . ."
A terrific wind blew and water struck their faces and stung. Both men lay flat along the ground and put arms over their heads to protect themselves. Then as quickly as it came, the storm moved off. Lightning strikes moved with it, and then further and further away, until it was only a distant flash and low r
umble. The wind stopped and with it the rain. Both men sat up and stared into inky blackness. A few flashes more, a distant clap of thunder, and the storm was gone.
"Come on," said Lance, "maybe we can save the old man."
In the distance the sun slowly formed a thin orange disk on the horizon and the darkness fled. Clouds swirled above and began to quickly dissipate. Blue sky appeared and the sun began to rise. Orange rays were replaced with bright yellow. Daylight flooded across the land.
Fast Eddy and Lance, both barefooted, slogged across slippery adobe mud. It stuck to their feet in great clumps and they had to stop from time to time to shove the sticky clay off. Eventually they came to the hill. Behind them they left deep holes where they walked. With difficulty they climbed the hill and saw where the old man lay. Lance reached him first and bent down. Gently he turned Horse over, and what they saw sickened both of them.
The lightning had burned the frontiersman horribly. There was a rifle below part of his body and the metal of the barrel was bent and the wood exploded from the stock. Parts of the old man's shirt was charred, his skin was blotchy and red, and the top of his head and face badly seared.
"Killed him, right off," said Eddy.
"Yeah," said Lance.
The two draft horses that were picketed at the very center of the hill both lay on their sides. Lance walked over and saw that they too were dead. The mustangs that were hobbled were nowhere to be seen.
"The riding horses are gone," said Lance.
"Look at the wagon," said Eddy. "It and the supplies are burned to a crisp. Horse sure was telling the truth when . . ."
"We got to find what we can save out of this mess, and then hope the horses are all right," said Lance.
"They couldn't have gotten too far," said Fast Eddy. "I hobbled them myself."
The men slogged around camp trying to salvage what they could. They found socks and their boots and put them on. Searching, they gathered up two Sharps rifles and the three Dragoon pistols, still intact. The other rifles were burned or damaged in some way. A few beans remained on the ground and these Fast Eddy picked up and placed in a sack. Gradually the hot sun began to bake the soft ground and within hours it was easier to walk around.
"I'll go look for the horses," said Lance. "You try to put what can be saved together."
"There ain't much," said Eddy. "What didn't burn or was struck by lightning, was blown away with the wind. Even our bed rolls and blankets are gone."
"I found the saddles and tack," said Lance. "Now all I got to do is find the horses."
By evening Lance returned with the mounts.
"Where'd you find them?" asked Fast Eddy.
"I went in the wrong direction," replied Lance. "By the time I made a full circle I found them down in a low place chomping grass like there was nothing wrong. They acted glad to see me. There's a big pond over there. I took the time to bathe and wash my clothes. You might want to do the same."
"While you were gone and before the ground got hard," said Eddy, "I dug a hole and put Horse in it. I figured maybe you and me could put up a marker and say a few words over him."
Lance stuck a broken rifle in the ground at the head of the grave and fixed a stick to it to make a cross. Eddy watched and then both men stood over the mound.
"You know more about the Good Book than I do," said Fast Eddy.
"Horse," began Lance. "We never got that chance for you to teach me to read. Overall I think you were what Mammy would call a good man. Maybe this was the Lord's way of telling us it was wrong to shoot all those fine buffalo. I remember Mammy reading from Ecclesiastes…All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Amen."
"Amen," repeated Fast Eddy.
They spent the night at the top of the knoll and in the morning packed up and went to the pond. In rummaging through the mess on the hill, Eddy found one cake of lye soap. He used it to wash the blood and gore from himself and his clothes. The remainder Lance used on himself.
"I tell you," said Eddy. "I feel like a new man."
"Surprising what a little soap and water can do," agreed Lance.
"It's a shame that we can't roll up those hides and sell them . . . 'specially after all that work of skinning them."
"I feel better that we can't," said Lance.
"Which way do we go now?"
Both men mounted their horses.
"Do we have a choice?" asked the big man. "We can't go back to St. Louis."
"But there's Indians out there. What chance do we have without someone like Horse?"
"All I know is that I'm not going back. You can go where you want, but I'm heading west to California."
"I thought we were friends. You wouldn't leave me? Not after saving my life?"
"You would have done the same thing," said Lance.
"I might have tried, but I'm afraid there's no way I could have picked you up, let alone run down that hill."
"I never had a friend," said Lance. "Just what do you mean by it?"
"Why Lance," said Fast Eddy. "A friend is . . . why . . . I never had to describe it before. Let me think . . ."
"Like I said," replied Lance. "I never had a friend before. And you don't know what it means either."
"I do so!" said Eddy with some heat. "A friend is someone who stands by you. Who watches your back when you're in trouble. Who . . . who carries you off a hill during a lightning strike and saves your life. A true friend is a pal who never lets his buddy down . . . no matter what."
"Is that how you feel?" asked Lance. "Or are you just saying words?"
"Lance! Look at all we've been through together! You saved my life! Of course they're not just words. I mean everything I said."
Lance stopped his horse, turned, and brought it close to Eddy's. The tall giant stared down at his companion. Some seconds ticked by, then showing great emotion, Lance stuck out a huge right hand. Eddy looked back, mouth open in surprise. Then he smiled and put out a smaller hand in return. Lance shook it and squeezed hard. Wincing from the pain of it, Fast Eddy did his best to increase his grip. Lance let go and Eddy sighed in relief.
"What do you think it all means, Eddy?" asked Lance, sitting on the mustang looking up at the great dome of the open sky.
His horse nervously shook its head against flies, and long moments passed before Eddy responded. "What you referring to, Lance? You mean all this? Smarter fellers than us have been asking that question . . ."
Lance nodded his head.
"I don't know, sometimes when I was working the fields or the worst times when they tied me to a whipping post . . . or the good times when Mammy read from the Good Book . . . I wondered," said Lance. "Mammy, she said it wasn't for man to understand everything but just to have faith. Do you have faith, Eddy?"
"I reckon in my own way I do," said Fast Eddy. "We're born, we get dealt the cards we're gonna hold . . . we struggle . . . and die. I've been thinkin' on it. Horse, as mean or as hard as he sometimes was, didn't have it coming the way he got it."
"I agree," said Lance. "He didn't."
Fast Eddy's horse jumped as though bitten and Lance's black mustang followed and both animals began a walk. Their noses were pointed northwest, and neither rider corrected their direction.
Chapter Seven
On their first day of travel their own blankets and canvas were found snagged on bushes. With warm bedrolls they did not suffer privation. Reluctant to shoot any more of the great buffalo, Eddy and Lance instead lived off mule deer and the vast herds of antelope they encountered. There were rabbits in plenty, and they never went hungry. Water was harder to find than food, and the men kept their canteens full.
They journeyed cautiously across the vast open spaces of the Great Plains. Following what they learned from Horse, every evening they camped on high ground and never lit a fire after dark. Several times they saw Indians and avoided them. Both men learned to study the land and to ride and keep hidden as best they could.
From a distance
the country looked flat and endless—a vast sea of waving grassland that went clear to the horizon in every direction. It was a deception that the land was flat. Instead it rolled in great waves, contained hidden valleys, hollows, deep ravines, washes, escarpments, and odd formations. They learned to train their eyesight, and by keen observation could see moving objects miles away. This was truly a wild and unexplored plain that required caution in traversing.
They had been traveling in a steady northwest direction and one day they came upon a wide area where the grass was eaten down. Exploring further, they discovered a trail, heavily used, with iron wagon wheels making marks in the soil.
"What do you think it is?" asked Fast Eddy.
"Quite a number of wagons going west," said Lance. "The stock have eaten the grass on both sides of the trail."
"Why are so many folks traveling?"
"I don't know," replied Lance. "I have an idea if we follow, we'll find out."
Gunshots echoed across the land. Climbing a hill, Fast Eddy and Lance looked down on a group of wagons. Men were indiscriminately shooting buffalo and letting the animals lie where they fell.
"The fools," said Lance, in as angry a voice as Fast Eddy had ever heard him speak.
Lance prodded his heels into the black mustang's sides and it jumped to a lope and then a full gallop.
"Stop!" shouted Lance, and his voice was loud and carried to the caravan.
Men stopped shooting. Lance charged down upon them. Fast Eddy was too surprised to follow. He watched and wondered if his friend would be shot. Eddy held his breath. Men aimed their rifles at Lance and then held their fire as the young giant continued to yell his displeasure.
"Quit that!" shouted Lance.
"What's the matter with you, mister?" asked a tall black-bearded man.
The wagon train halted and the bearded fellow jumped down. He held a rifle in his hands.
"You're killing just to kill!" shouted Lance, dismounting from his horse and confronting the big stranger.
"What makes it your business?"
West of the Big River: Boxed Set of Eight Western Novels Page 50