Revenge Requires Two Graves

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Revenge Requires Two Graves Page 13

by George Emery Townsend


  Chapter 12

  Zeke

  It wasn’t long before Richard got to feeling better and returned to the seat next to Laurie on their wagon. Quincy, the trail boss, assigned Ray to ride with the scout. A scout’s duty is to ride out ahead of the wagon train, marking the trail, dropping any game along the way that you were able to shoot, watch for any danger and find water for nightly campsites.

  Ray had to admit, he was thrilled with the idea of getting out from behind those mules. But he had heard stories about the man who now was the train’s scout. The man was certainly set for the trails, with well-worn buckskins-in some places more worn than most observers were happy with. Ray had noticed he stayed off to himself when the wagons stopped for the night. He figured the guy just wasn’t comfortable being around people, and more comfortable just talking to his mule, Betsy.

  When Ray asked Quincy what the scout’s name was, Quincy just chuckled and said he didn’t think he had a real name. “All I know is he has been ridin’ with my trains for over 10 years. And he’s the best around.” Quincy added thoughtfully, “Oh, I asked him once what his name was, but the old coot said he couldn’t remember anymore. Said I could call him just about anything, exeptin’ don’t be callin’ him late for supper,” Quincy said and laughed a big one. “So I just call him Scout. He answers so I guess anything will work.”

  The scout, Ray soon learned, was a man of few words, and the ones he usually used were not for mixed company. Ray introduced himself, but has expected never got a name in return. He just told Ray to call him whatever. They had ridden a couple miles out from the lead wagon when they spotted a deer eating grass not a hundred yards off. The scout raised his Spencer rifle, took aim and pulled the trigger. The shot sounded like a small cannon going off and ran true to the target. About a hundred yards from the back of his mount, the deer dropped.

  “That was the best shot I’ve ever seen, Zeke” Ray said with probably a dash too much excitement.

  “Who’s Zeke?” the scout asked.

  “You are,” Ray answered matter-of-factly. “Since you said I could call you anything I wanted I decided I liked Zeke.”

  “Yeah well, Zeke’s as good as any. Anyway boy, if you wanna survive out here you best learn to make that kind of shot every time, and at an even greater distance. Get you a good rifle and make it work for ya.”

  “Yes sir,” Ray answered as they rode towards the kill.

  “Hold up, boy,” said Zeke as they reared back their mounts not fifty yards from their prey.

  “Why are we stoppin’?”

  “Look there, just to the right of the kill, a couple steps back,” Zeke answered.

  “I don’t see anything, what is it?”

  “Quiet boy, just keep watchin’,” pointed Zeke.

  It took a bit, but then Ray saw some movement. No figure stood out, just the tops of the tall grass near tonight’s dinner.

  “What is it?” Ray whispered.

  “Not sure, but if I had to make a guess I’d say Pawnee.”

  “Pawnee? Like the Indian, Pawnee? Out here? Already? We haven’t traveled all that far from Missouri, and we already have Indians after us?” Ray questioned, his voice coming out more tinny and nervous than he would have liked.

  “Not after us. They’re after our dinner. Most Indians we’ll be comin’ across will always be lookin’ for their next meal.”

  “You mean they’re friendly?”

  “I didn’t say nothin’ of the sort. Them damn heathens would slice your throat while you slept iffen’ they wanted something you had. And don’t forget it.”

  Ray swallowed hard trying to clear the knot in his throat and answered, “I won’t. What are we gonna do now?”

  “Well I figure there ain’t a gonna be more than a couple of ‘em. We could ride in a shootin’, but that’d just anger the whole damn tribe, so I reckon we pow-wow.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later?” Ray suggested.

  “No need wastin’ ammo on an Injun iffin we don’t haveta'. We can always slice um up if they get pushy.”

  Ray looked over to Zeke to see if he was smiling at the joke he just made, but there was no smile. That’s also about the time he remembered he didn’t carry a knife. “That’s it, first chance I get,” whispered Ray to himself, “I’m getting another rifle and a knife.”

  They rode up to about twenty feet from the carcass. Zeke called out in a language that sounded like gibberish to Ray. He raised his right hand up, palm facing the ones he was calling to. It wasn’t long before three young Indians stood up from the grass. They looked a little upset that they’d been so easily spotted. Their buckskins showed more wear than Zeke’s, and they looked weathered and worn down to near starvation. Zeke spoke to them and it seemed to relax the situation. The Indians didn’t appear to be armed so Ray settled back in his saddle and watched them closely for any quick movement.

  He had seen Indians before in Wisconsin, and some of them were bad ones to be near, but he’d never had a run in with ones like these. He could honestly say that he was more than just a little nervous.

  About then Zeke turned to Ray, “Let’s go, boy,” he said as he turned his mule to return to where they had come from.

  “What about our deer?”

  “We’re leavin’ it,” Zeke said resolutely.

  “Leaving it? What the hell are you talkin’ about? You shot it, why you givin’ it up to those Indians?” Ray spit.

  “Boy, sometimes ya can get more outta’ givin’ something up than you can by keepin’ it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Those Pawnee are from a small tribe that was disarmed by the Army. They’re not beggars; they’re starving and trying to survive. There’s a difference. We’ll get another shot at game 'afore we get back.”

  “I sure hope so; I’d hate to return to the wagons without something to show for our day’s work,” shied Ray even though he knew Zeke was right, and respected him for his restraint.

  “Well at least that deer should help keep them Pawnee from coming’ into camp tonight and helpin’ themselves.”

  -CKS-

  As the day continued on they did secure another deer. They also crossed several trails of unshod ponies, which meant there had to be a larger group of Pawnee nearby.

  “I reckon we’d better find where that tribe’s holdin’ up,” said Zeke as he scratched his thick beard.

  “Why? Looks to me like they’re friendly enough. Why don’t we just leave them be?”

  “You have a lot to learn ‘bout people Ray, especially Indian type people. That one deer ain’t gonna do nothin’ but wet their appetites. When it’s gone and that’ll be soon enough, they’ll start thinkin’ about the cattle we got with the wagons.”

  “Then why did you give it to them? Seems like you just wasted a deer,” Ray scorned.

  “First off, I didn’t know so many were so close, Mr. Wise Apple. All I was facin’ at the time were three that I could see, with a snot nose kid sittin’ next to me.”

  “Snot nose kid? What do you mean snot nosed? I’m almost all of seventeen years grown and tougher than most,” bragged Ray.

  “Now calm down, boy, I figured you could handle yourself all right but when you don’t know how many you’re fighting, don’t start the dance. I done taken a likin’ to ya boy and I think you have the makins of becomin’ someone to ride the river with. But ya don’t know shit about trail life. Now if you get to where you shut up and listen instead of gettin’ your hair all up, I might be able to teach ya a thing or two,” Zeke scolded.

  Ray thought for a moment, “Thanks Zeke, you’re right. I do have a lot to learn.”

  “What I’ve been taught and learned has saved my life a mess a times. So watch and learn sonny, and you’ll do fine. Now let’s see if we can find those Injuns without gettin’ ourselves into a peck of trouble.”

  They decided following on top of the Indian tracks was the best way to go
at first. The trail led far enough to get a good idea where the Pawnee were headed. Then they swung off the trail by about a hundred yards and rode through some high grass.

  A couple of hours before sunset Zeke raised his hand to stop Ray. “Smell that boy? Wood smoke. We’re gettin’ close, so watch yourself. No shootin’ unlessen’ there’s no other way.”

  Signaling Ray to dismount, Zeke said, “Tie your horse loose to that downed tree. That way if anything happens to us the horses will be able to get free.”

  Bending at the waist the two moved quickly through the tall grass. Ray hadn’t smelled the wood smoke when Zeke had, but he sure did now. It smelled strong enough that he thought he might break through the grass at any moment and step right into the middle of the Pawnee camp.

  Continuing to hunch over while he listened, Zeke reached out and placed his hand on Ray’s chest just enough to stop his momentum. Then as quickly as a cat he placed his hand on top of Ray’s head, pushing him straight down to the ground. Zeke lay flat on the ground next to Ray with a finger over his mouth demanding silence. Finally, Ray heard them coming. Just a light swooshing sound that got louder and louder. Zeke looked Ray right in the eye as much to say, “this is it boy.”

  “Damn it,” Ray cussed under his breath, “I still don’t have that knife. I got to get one before I run out of luck.” Ray was sure he’d never been this scared; the Indians were walking straight for them.

  The sound of cloth on brush was so close it seemed as if the Pawnee were going to step right on them.

  The Indians, however, had no idea that the two were even there. That was soon to change. Zeke tapped Ray’s shoulder, covering his mouth again with a finger, and Ray could see a slight smile growing on Zeke’s face. It wasn’t long before Ray knew what he was smiling at. He could hear a stream of water hitting the tall grass and falling to the ground. It seems the Indians had entered the tall grass to relieve themselves. Ray was never as happy as right then, realizing as soon as they were done the Indians would head back to their camp.

  Then it hit him, a warm wet feeling running on the side of his leg. Through the tall grass one of the Pawnee was unknowingly relieving himself on Ray’s leg. Holding back a hard belly laugh, Zeke figured out what was happening and almost gave away their position. All Ray could do was lay there and let his pant leg soak up the liquid. He didn’t dare move for fear they would be discovered. After the longest few moments of his life the Indians returned in the direction they had come. Zeke and Ray could finally rise from their position on the ground.

  “Oh shit. He went all over my leg.” Ray whispered in disgust.

  Zeke was holding back any noise but he was laughing so hard inside that he had tears in his eyes.

  “You’ll be okay, boy. A lot of men wish that was all the Pawnee did to them the first time they ran into one. That does give me an idea though. I heard a couple dogs barkin’ when we first came up here. That’s why we had to stay down wind. But with that new smell you’re carrying, hopefully we can get a lot closer. The dogs won’t bark if they take us for friendlies. Now pull off those drawers boy and rub that scent all over ya.” Zeke directed.

  “What! Are you crazy?”

  “Look boy, this is your first lesson in huntin’ Indians. Learn it or die.”

  “Shit, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Ray said as he began to rub his wet pant leg onto his arms, chest and back.

  “Do the top of your head too, boy. Don’t want no white man smell reachin’ those dogs.” Zeke said with a snicker.

  “Okay. I’m done, here you go.” Ray said as he handed his pants over to Zeke.

  “Get those damn stinky things away from me. There’s no damn need for both of us to smell like piss. Now get down on your belly and crawl over until you can see into their camp. Count how many you see and then crawl back.” Zeke instructed.

  “You’re not puttin’ any of this on you? That’s not fair. Why did I have to be the one?”

  “You were already picked out by the Indians as the one, now get started. I’m getting’ hungry and I’m like a mother bear with a lost cub when my stomach is empty. And damn it, don’t get caught.”

  Ray looked long at Zeke trying to decide if he wanted to hit him or just walk back to the horses.

  “Oh shit, I already have the awful smell on me now, so I guess I might as well take a look,” Ray resigned.

  “That a boy,” said Zeke, as he almost slapped Ray on the back until he remembered why Ray's shirt was wet.

  Ray knelt down into the tall grass and began to snake his way forward. Several times he came face to face with large spiders making their new homes. He tried to go around them as best he could but usually ended up just climbing over or through them.

  “God, I hate spiders,” sighed Ray.

  As he pierced through a clump of grass his head suddenly broke through into the Indian camp. Ray jerked head back just in time to avoid detection by a passing squaw. Taking a deep breath he slowly poked his head back through the thicket and he was surprised to find only a small group. He counted maybe eight men and six women and didn’t see or hear any children. There were two ragged looking dogs lying down next to one of the older squaws as she cut up what looked to be a small rabbit for dinner. At first since he saw no weapons to speak of: they must have caught it in a snare. But then he saw one rifle leaning up against a large pack. One of the braves was carrying another rifle. Both weapons looked old and well used but still looked like they could fire. Ray decided he’d pushed his luck long enough and began to back out of this position and head to where he left Zeke.

  Zeke didn’t seem very positive when Ray explained what he had seen. They discussed the two rifles and Zeke gave several explanations as to why Ray only saw two: They could have hidden them for fear of being stolen by other Indians, or to prevent the troops from finding them. Zeke figured they probably got ‘em from one of those damn gun peddlers.

  “Let’s get back to the train before we find out just how good them rifles do work,” said Zeke, hustling to their horses.

  It was after dark by the time they reached their camp. The wagons had already formed a large circle, and dinner fires were burning.

  Quincy met them as they rode through the wagons, “I was beginnin’ to worry about you boys.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us, but we do have some Pawnee to consider. Coop, you tell him what you saw,” Zeke said has he started to pat Ray on the shoulder yanking his hand back when he remembered Ray’s new scent.

  Ray took a double take at Zeke calling him Coop; but quickly decided that he liked it. “Well, there were eight men, six women, two scrounge dogs, and no kids,” explained Ray. “I also saw two rifles, there might have been more, but that’s all I saw.”

  “What do you think?” said Quincy looking at Zeke.

  “Well, I think we’ll end up havin’ some trouble with ‘em. Our stock is just too temptin’ for them to pass up,” Zeke said before he was interrupted.

  “I say you send some men in there and clean them damn redskins out of our path. They’re nothing but dogs eatin’ the scraps of honest men!” came a voice from a thin, small man rounding the wagon.

  “Now Mickey Farrell, you just mind your own damn business and let us handle this,” scolded Quincy.

  “This is as much my business as it is yours. I have some cattle in the herd and some horses. I plan to protect my interests,” whined Mickey.

  “What the hell are you talkin’ about Mickey? All you have are two skinny dairy cows and a sway back mare. If you call that an interest to protect then by those standards I’m a millionaire. Now get the hell out of here before I put my boot up your ass,” Quincy said, pointing back to the campfire.

  “Okay, I’m leavin’, but this ain’t over. Only good Indian is a dead Indian,” swore Mickey as he stomped off.

  “I don’t like that son-of-a-bitch one bit. It’s his kind that keeps the Indians on the warpath. You watch, he’s gonna be trouble,” s
pit Zeke.

  “What do you think about us ridin’ out there and offerin’ them a couple head of cattle? At least that way we can pick out the cattle they get,” offered Quincy.

  “I can’t think of any other way around it,” said Zeke. “I think we oughta give em Mickey Farrell’s cows.”

  “It’d serve him right. But no, I’ll cut a couple out of my own stock,” sighed Quincy.

  “By the way, which one of you pissed your pants?” Quincy looked them up and down and settled on Ray. “Boy, you stink!”

  “That’s it, I’m gone!” Ray said as he headed for the stream.

 

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