West of the Big River: Boxed Set of Eight Western Novels

by James Reasoner

  "You're wasting good meat."

  "Mister," said the angry fellow. "No one comes charging in here and tells me what to do."

  "I just did," said Lance, advancing closer.

  "Then you can die, you fool," he said, pointing his rifle.

  Lance's fist struck out and into the man's face. The fellow acted as if a sledge hammer had struck and he fell to the ground and did not move. Men came from various wagons and instead of anger, Lance encountered smiles and several of the group thumped him on his back.

  "Good to see you, feller," said one.

  "You gave him what for," smiled another. "About time he got what he had coming."

  A horse trotted up behind Lance and he turned to see who it was. Fast Eddy jumped down and he also was greeted by the gathering group.

  "What's going on here?" asked Eddy.

  "That there feller is Blacky Schmidt," explained a middle-aged man with red hair. "Back a ways he showed up and asked to be part of our group. We didn't know him and said no. He kept after us 'til we finally voted and let him join. At first things were fine, but pretty soon he started threatening us, and backing it up with his fists and guns. 'Til that big friend of yours came along, we've been plumb feared what to do."

  "He tried to shoot me," said Lance.

  "Might be better if you shot him dead," continued the red-haired man. "Don't have no idea what he'll do when he wakes. But it won't be good."

  "Why are so many of you travelling west?" asked Eddy.

  "Haven't you heard? There's gold in Californy."

  "No, we haven't," replied Eddy.

  "Where you been?" asked Red. "Why, the whole country is talking about it."

  "There can't be that much gold," said Eddy. "Not for all."

  "Why, there is! We heard tell you can walk along and pick nuggets off the ground. Not counting Blacky, there's seventeen of us, and we're going to share every piece of gold we dig up! Why don't you two fellers come with us and join in. We're going to be rich!"

  Blacky Schmidt began to make sounds and seemed to be coming to. He moved his head slowly and groaned and then all of a sudden he jumped to his feet, a large knife in his right hand.

  "Let me at him!" growled Blacky. "I'll cut him to pieces."

  An old, grey-haired man dressed in buckskins, poked Blacky hard in the back with the end of his rifle barrel and then jumped back. The bully turned menacingly and sliced air with his knife, missing the oldster by a foot.

  "Hey! That hurt!" shouted Blacky. "I'll git you too, old man!"

  "The name's Horntoad Harry and you know it!" exclaimed the frontiersman. "And you ain't gittin no one, nowhere, no how! Thanks to that giant feller over there, your pushing us around ends right here and right now. He taught us that your meat house can be knocked down like any other man."

  "Where is he?" shouted Blacky. "Just let me fight him again and I'll show who's boss!"

  "I'm right here," said Lance, walking forward and facing the big man."

  "I'm going to slice you wide open . . ."

  From behind, the old-timer struck Blacky on the head with his rifle barrel, and the blow made a loud hollow sound. The troublemaker fell once more, out cold.

  "You might of beat him," said Horntoad Harry, "but he wasn't playing fair, and ‘sides, I'd hate to see a big feller like you all cut up for no reason a'tall."

  "Horntoad is a real plainsman, he joined our group a while back," said the red-headed man. "Let me introduce all around. My name's Red, that feller over there is Jake, that's Zeke, Hezekiah, and, well, let the others tell you. And you two?"

  "I'm Lance, and my friend is Fast Eddy."

  The newcomers shook hands all around and names were again exchanged.

  "How about we tie Blacky up," said Red. "We can unload his guns, set him on his horse, and make him ride in another direction."

  "What's to keep him from drygulching one of us, first chance he gits?" asked Horntoad. "I say we break a leg or put a hole in him, to give him somethin' else to think on."

  "No matter how bad he is or what thoughts he has about our gold, we can't do something like that," replied Red.

  Blacky groaned once more and then slowly sat up, rubbing his head. Several of the men had already emptied Blacky's saddle pistols and rifle. Another took his horse from behind a wagon and saddled it.

  "I should have thumped him harder," complained Horntoad Harry.

  "Blacky," said Red. "Here's your horse, your pistols, and your rifle. Mount up and ride out!"

  Sixteen voices murmured unanimous consent.

  "I ain't goin nowhere," said Blacky. "Then he drew a large single-shot pistol from his saddle holster."

  Everyone heard the hammer and saw his finger on the trigger.

  "Won't do you any good," said Red. "Your guns are empty."

  Blacky pointed the barrel at Red and pulled the trigger. It merely clicked.

  "Told you," said Red. "Now get going!"

  Those men with rifles pointed them at the big man. Blacky looked around in a full circle and grinned.

  "I wondered when any of you would have the sand to stand up to me. You never would have if it wasn't for that big feller."

  "No talk," ordered Horntoad. "Ride!"

  "I'll be seeing you men. You just watch for me and when you least expect it, I'll be there to throw this in your face. Then I'll break it!"

  "Blacky, you're a mean-mouthed, low-down, ornery skunk," said Horntoad. "In my younger days I'd have taken you on in a knife fight and I would have sliced your ears off and gutted you like a prime beaver."

  Blacky took the reins of his horse and mounted. Someone handed him his empty rifle and the big, bearded man looked down.

  "Brave talk, old man. I'll be looking for you special."

  "You polecat!" shouted Horntoad. "Move on or I'll drill you 'tween the eyes!"

  Blacky made a loud snickering sound with his mouth and then dug heels into his horse. Pulling reins, the troublemaker turned his mount west and rode away. The group watched until horse and man disappeared into a low spot on the horizon.

  "I'm afeared," said the old-timer, "that we're gonna regret not killin' that hombre."

  "You men that shot a buffalo," said Lance. "Suppose we take their skins, and some of the meat?"

  "Good idea!" said the plainsman. "We'll be needin' meat and buffalo robes up in the mountains. This place is as good as any to tan the hides. 'Bout time I earn my keep and learn you how."

  The old frontiersman, along with Lance and Eddy, showed skill in skinning the many dead buffalo. The others looked on or assisted when asked. Meat was cut and collected, some of it jerked, smoked, or cooked. It took the rest of the day to remove the twenty some-odd hides and stake them out on the plains. Horntoad began scraping tissue and fat, and the men followed suit. When the hides were cleaned, he broke open the skulls and used brains to begin tanning.

  "Learned this from the Cheyenne."

  "We'll lose time getting to the gold fields," complained Red.

  Through the day several small groups of men passed along the trail, many hooting back at the group of would-be miners.

  "For winter we'll need buffalo coats and robes," said the plainsman. "When other men are freezing, we'll be as warm as a papoose wrapped in her mother's cradleboard."

  They stayed three days and in that time the hides were partially dried and cured. Each man took one to work the leather. During the delay, the men repaired their wagons and equipment. Cooked buff was eaten. Smoked and jerked meat put away. While they worked, they saw many more wagons pass on the trail to California. Red's party bantered with the passing miners and the sense of urgency to beat others to the gold fields was still upon each man.

  "Don't worry," said the plainsman. "It's a sensible thing we did here. Our horses and mules needed rest, and wagons had to be greased and repaired. We can always use meat. Opportune it was to have Lance and his friend come along."

  "It goes the same for you, Horntoad," said Red. "Without your skills
, it would have been a rougher trip."

  "What do you mean?" asked Lance.

  "When you weren't with us, back on the trail, we faced some tough going."

  "So did we," replied Lance. "In a bad storm we lost a man. And you?

  "Let's just say, without Horntoad, we wouldn't have made it this far."

  "This ain't the last of our troubles," interjected the plainsmen. "We got to go easy on the stock and there's a real bad place ahead."

  Several of Red's party gathered to listen.

  "Where's that?" asked one of the men.

  "Didn't want to talk of it until we got near," said the old-timer. "It'll be the hardest to cross. We got to make sure the stock is rested, watered, and in good shape."

  "We don't need any more surprises," said Red. "You better explain."

  "It's a desert," answered Horntoad Harry, "a real bad stretch of forty miles or more. When we come to the Humboldt River we'll have to fill every water barrel and canteen. There won't be water for quite a stretch after that. I was with Frémont when he went across that river, and it ain't no beauty. It's a muddy, slow-moving, alkaline tasting crick. But believe me, you fellers will be glad it's there."

  "And beyond the desert lies California and the gold fields!" exclaimed one of the men.

  "I'm gonna be the first to pick up nuggets!" said another.

  "I'm talking reality here," explained the frontiersman. "When we hit the Humboldt River and later the mountains, we got to be real careful about treatin' the stock right, or we still won't make it. We've travelled nearly fifteen hundred miles and we got more than that to go. The stock and you fellers got to stay healthy and we got to take vinegar once in a while to keep off the scurvy. Good thing I'm here to keep you greenhorns out of trouble."

  "You talk like a mother hen," said Zeke. "All I want is to get to Californy and fill my pockets with gold!"

  "You think it will be easy?" asked Horntoad. "Let me tell you what prospectin' is really like! You fellers can dream all you want, but you'll learn real quick how much pokin' with pick and shovel it'll take to find gold. It ain't nothin but hard labor, pickin', diggin', shovelin', standing in ice cold streams with blistered hands, and grubbin' in gravel and mud day after day. Gold minin' ain't no fun time. I done it, and I know that it's doggone nasty work."

  Chapter Eight

  True to the old frontiersman's word, their stop did make a difference for the adventurous party. The rested and well-grazed stock passed other wagons with their worn-out mules, oxen, and horses. Horntoad explained to the would-be miners that they still had Sioux territory to pass through. He cautioned again about fires at night, or using a rifle and killing buffs on Indian land.

  "No sense in riling the Injuns. Since leaving Fort Kearny we've been lucky. We've got a ways to go to Fort Laramie, and from there through South Pass to that there fort that Bridger built."

  The men, having learned to listen to the frontiersman, made do with the food and supplies they carried. They traveled twenty miles a day and, seeing game along the trail, refrained from using their rifles. In late afternoon, dead tired, they circled their wagons and extinguished all fires before dark.

  It was near Fort Laramie, in the middle of the day, they came to a long hill and at the top of it saw a party of twenty some Indians.

  "Circle the wagons!" ordered Horntoad.

  The men acted on his orders. And when the task was completed, they watched the Indians approach on painted ponies.

  "Keep the brakes on them wagons," whispered the plainsman. "If you don't want the stock turned into pin cushions and your hair on a pole, you men do as I say. If I tell one of you to jump, you jump. If I say fetch, you fetch. This is their land, and if you see twenty, you can bet there's a heap more of them close by. Better you let me palaver our way out of this than to fight."

  The Indians rode right up to the wagons. Horntoad, Lance, and Eddy stood to greet them.

  "Do you speak their language?" asked Lance.

  "I know some Teton," replied Horntoad. "This here group is Oglala Sioux. Red! You fetch a blanket and set it down between us. We're gonna do some trade."

  Red climbed off his seat and went through the back of his wagon and jumped down. He ran before the frontiersman and whipped the blanket out and it settled flat, without wrinkles, to the ground.

  "Good!" said the old man. "Now you fellers stay up on your wagon seats real careful like, and each of you reach for a rifle. I want you to hold steady, casual like, and keep them shooters pointed at the sky. If anything goes wrong, I'll shout, and you boys shoot straight."

  When the lead Indian's paint stopped ten feet from the blanket, Horntoad Harry raised a right hand and began to speak in a foreign tongue. The leader dismounted and answered in a strange high timbered voice. By now, the warriors spread out in a long mounted line, horses pawing nervously at the hard ground. Each brave held a rifle or bow in hand, with a full quiver of arrows. More words were exchanged, and then two Indians jumped down from their mounts and stood behind their leader.

  "Lance, you and Eddy stand behind me. Hold your rifles up and don't move. Pretend you're guardin' me . . . 'cause you are."

  The plainsman flourished hand and arm courteously before the Indian leader and pointed to the blanket. Together both men sat and crossed their legs. The two sitting upon the blanket began to speak and sign.

  "The rascal's asking us why so many are passing through their land," Horntoad explained to the men. "I told him we're headed for Californy. He wants to know why. I told him for the land. He doesn't like that. He says we're trespassin', scarin' game, makin' a nuisance."

  Again the two leaders upon the blanket spoke for long moments, continuing to sign.

  "Red!" shouted Horntoad. "Bring me an axe for payment. Be quick about it, and place it in the middle of the blanket."

  One more time, Red put down his rifle, climbed over the seat and into the back of his wagon. Within seconds he came running with a large axe and set it in the middle of the blanket. Each group heard the Indian leader grunt and saw him shake his head.

  "Now listen here," said Horntoad. "Red, you go among the men and gather two tobacco pouches, two knives, and two iron skillets. Don't dally."

  Red ran back to his wagon yet again, climbed up and loudly searched among his possessions. He jumped down with a skillet and two knives. Passing other wagons, he was given another skillet and two tobacco pouches. Red moved hurriedly and then ran back and deftly placed the items in the middle of the blanket. Again both parties heard the Indian grunt in the negative.

  "Boys!" said the frontiersman. "This here Indian is named Red Cloud. I heard of him and he's rising quick in the Sioux nation as a leader. He says he wants guns and a couple mules. We ain't gonna give 'em. You men stand quick, and don't fool yourselves; some of these warriors speak American as good as you 'n me."

  Again Horntoad and Red Cloud exchanged words and sign, and this time they both spoke louder and in argument.

  "Red!" shouted the old man. "Run and fetch that buffalo coat I finished and left in the back of your wagon."

  Red ran and did as ordered, but this time handed the coat to Horntoad. The plainsman stood and held the softly tanned and heavy coat before the Indian. He put it on to show how it fit, and to display its fine detail. Then he removed it and placed it on top of the blanket. Again, Red Cloud grunted. Horntoad made a level sweep of his hand and all saw that the gift giving was finished.

  The old frontiersman nodded his head, folded his arms, and remained standing. Finally, Red Cloud nodded his head in assent and then rose and extended his right arm. The two leaders grasped hand over wrist and shook.

  Suddenly, an angry young warrior jumped from his horse and yelled in a burst of loud and rapid Sioux. He came forward and pointed at the party of miners and made fierce gestures, continuing to shout. Red Cloud gave orders and the two Indians behind him grabbed the young warrior and dragged him away.

  "That," explained Horntoad Harry, "was a little devil cal
led Likes-To-Fight. Red Cloud says the young buck bit a live rattlesnake last week and he's been a bit tempered since. Indian humor, boys! Haw! Haw! Haw! They're going to let us go! Don't make no sudden moves!"

  Another Indian came and took up the heavy buffalo coat and ran back to his horse. Still another folded up the blanket with the gifts inside and carried them to his pony. Mounted, Red Cloud gave a final salute. The painted horses turned in unison, leaped into a gallop, and within moments the Indians disappeared in a cloud of dust over the hill.

  "You men done fine," complimented the plainsman.

  "But I gave up my favorite blanket," complained Red.

  The men, immensely relieved, put down their rifles and laughed.

  More wary now, with the experience of encountering the Sioux, the miners traveled as quietly as they could through the vast plains. Under the frontiersman's urging they passed by Fort Laramie and continued on. Days turned into weeks. They came to Independence Rock and finally South Pass. When they reached Fort Bridger they stayed and rested several days. At the fort, they warily eyed the many parties of would-be miners who passed them by. Red and his men remained restless. At the same time they realized the prospectors they saw were foolishly pushing themselves and their stock beyond all reason.

  "Mark my words," said Horntoad. "Many of them fellers ain't gonna make it."

  Lance was walking by the miners with Eddy, and the frontiersman followed.

  "I been looking for a chance to talk," said the old man. "I wanted to say that I like the way you two handle yourselves. Lance, no man would argue that it took a feller of your size to take down that Blacky. Ever since, I been thinkin. You two are just the hombre's I been lookin to join up with. Together, the three of us could make some real money in those gold fields."

  "What do you have in mind?" asked Lance.

  "Like I said," replied Horntoad, "gold minin' ain't no fun. When we get to Californy, suppose we find an easier way of earnin' coin? I'm not getting any younger, and some day I'd like to settle down on some ranch."

  "It depends on what you have in mind," said Eddy. "But I'm willing to listen if Lance is."