The Floating Outfit 42: Buffalo Are Coming!

by J. T. Edson

  This was the particular pattern of behavior upon which Stone Hart was gambling!

  Such had been the care taken by the various pairs of men, that all had succeeded in reaching their positions and had taken cover without being detected. While awaiting the signal to commence, they had been treated to the sight of the buffalo’s normal activities going on undisturbed. Calves not yet fully weaned bleated and fed at the udders of their mothers. Slightly older youngsters gamboled in their play like oversized lambs, darting back to their family groups if alarmed or if they had roused the wrath of an elder. Immature males staged mock fights which did much to establish the position each would hold in the hierarchy of the herd. If one of them should approach the harem of a dominant bull, a more serious confrontation could take place. However, as the mating season was over, these would not go beyond the issuing of threats which brought about the retirement of the interloper. When not dealing with such a situation, the family leaders grazed peacefully yet with never ending vigilance.

  Unlike the majority of animals living habitually in fairly open country, which tended to produce more reliance upon vision than nostrils and ears to give warning of possible danger, the eyesight of buffalo was not exceptionally keen. Instead, despite close association with others of its kind and the noises they invariably created, the main reliance for locating threats in the vicinity was placed on scent and hearing.

  Catching the scent of human beings and horses, carried to them by the light breeze, the nearest buffalo stopped their various activities and looked in the appropriate direction. On being able to make out the moving shapes slowly approaching, the family bulls in particular studied them warily. Some of the big males adopted postures of threat, but these were merely intended as a bluff. Seeing the menacing behavior was failing to produce the desired effect, bull after bull elected to exercise discretion and move away. Those which turned in any other direction except east discovered others were swinging towards them. Accepting this behavior was caused by a potential danger, they changed their minds. Soon, every family and ‘bachelor’ party was plodding along as required by the men responsible for the departure.

  ‘Well, we’ve got them on the move,’ Stone Hart drawled, but his seemingly laconic tone did not fool the New Englander advancing slowly by his side. ‘Now all we have to do is keep them headed towards their new home in Texas.’

  Thirteen – Is-A-Man

  Lying on a bed made from bearskin, in the darkness of the tipi placed at her disposal, Annie ‘Is-A-Man’ Singing Bear was deeply perturbed. Never before, even though only her father was of the Nemenuh had she been made to feel so ill-at-ease and unwanted in a Comanche village. However, she was shrewd enough to realize her lack of acceptance had not arisen because the community she was visiting was unique.

  Nowhere else throughout the vast domain once claimed and roamed at will by the various bands of their nation—having driven or wiped out its former, less aggressive occupants in a fashion which a later generation would attribute solely to white men—could such a practically unchanged and traditional Comanche village be found. As far as living accommodation went, particularly in communities established upon reservations under the control of dedicated Indian agents willing to deal fairly with and look after the welfare of their charges (although there were some who used such a position of trust to line their pockets) there was an every growing tendency amongst the Nemenuh to adopt permanent residences after the style of the white people’s dwellings.

  Here in the depths of the Palo Duro country, although some were unoccupied and available perhaps a mile and a half away, there was no sign of the adobe or wooden buildings which were becoming an increasingly familiar addition to the landscape on the reservations. Instead, as had been the case for generations, the families were housed in tipis. Constructed of buffalo hides which were sewn together and stretched, flesh side out, over a conical framework of long, straight and slender poles—pine or cedar being the woods most favored—peeled, seasoned and pared down to a suitable diameter, these made easily transportable homes for people following a nomadic existence. Not only was such a structure weatherproof, being warm in winter and cool in summer, it could be erected in around fifteen minutes and, should there be a need to vacate a location hurriedly, could be struck for moving even more quickly.

  In addition to the dwellings, although a few of the men wore odd items of white manufacture, the majority of the camp’s occupants retained the traditional style of their nation. However, where buckskin would generally have been employed, the majority of their garments were fashioned from the hides of pronghorns. It was for this reason the Kweharehnuh—also known as the Kwahihekehnuh, ‘Sunshades On Their Backs’—band had become known to white men, against whom at a time not too long past they had frequently been in conflict, as the ‘Antelope’ Comanche. Even before circumstances had restricted them to their present and much reduced territory, pronghorn had always been more readily available throughout what they had considered their personal ‘stamping ground’ than the whitetail deer which provided ‘buckskin’—although does were more frequently used than bucks—for the other bands. Therefore, they had selected this animal as more easily obtainable for making clothes. However, while less dependent upon the huge beasts than most Nemenuh and other of the ‘Plains Indian’ nations, they employed the hides of buffalo to supply walls for tipis, soles of moccasins, the outer covering for shields and anything else which required toughness in use.

  All the traditional weapons of the Comanche were still much in evidence around the village, looking much as they had for centuries except for metal having replaced bone or stone for the effective portions in some cases. However, in spite of the disinclination to adopt the dwellings and attire of the white man, this did not prelude a willingness to accept his firearms. The majority of these were Henry and Winchester repeaters. What was more, the latter included a few Model of 1873’s as well as their predecessor, the Model of 1866. Regardless of how conservative he might elect to remain in other directions and no matter to which nation a brave belonged, nothing was more sought after and highly prized than one of those wonderful multiple shooting products of paleface ingenuity. Nevertheless, the possession of so many repeaters in a single village—a misconception which would be created by fiction writers of a future generation notwithstanding—was very much the exception rather than the rule. Generally, they were only found in the hands of a very fortunate minority of any nation’s fighting men.

  Being conversant with the fairly recent history of the Kweharehnuh band, Annie was aware of how so many repeaters had come into their hands that even some of the tuivitsi as well as every tehnap were armed in this fashion. However, she knew the reason was not responsible for the less than cordial treatment she was now being accorded on this, her second, visit to the village. Nor had the way in which she dressed, spoke and behaved created the atmosphere. Despite the tendency towards male domination, with women generally expected to accept less than equal status, these would normally have been considered approvable in such a conservative and traditionally minded community.

  Just past her twentieth year, Annie was not more than five foot four in height. Although, the Pahuraix—Water Horse—band of her father tended to be taller and more slender than the rest of the Nemenuh, she had come by the stocky build typical of most Comanches from her white mother. Her coppery-bronze attractive features, with somewhat slanted brown eyes and a snub rather than aquiline nose, were indications of her mixed birthright. Reddish-brown, also a maternal trait, her hair dangled in two braids from beneath a plain dark blue cloth headband after the fashion of a warrior. However, the way in which the sleeveless and V-necked buckskin shirt and trousers conformed to the firmly fleshed, curvaceous contours of her torso and hips, displayed in no uncertain manner that what lay beneath was not of the masculine gender. Nor was the rest of the attire she had brought with her, even the moccasins, feminine in style.

  The invasion of what was generally considered masculine d
omain was not restricted to Annie’s clothing. Within easy reach of her right hand was a weapon belt decorated by Comanche ‘medicine’ symbols different from those of the Kweharehnuh. It carried a Colt 1860 Army Model revolver, the barrel and ramrod reduced in length to four inches, in an open topped high cavalry twist holster on the right side. At the left, in a sheath made from the hide of a wapiti— erroneously called ‘elk’ by Europeans—hung a J. Russell & Company ‘Green River’ hunting knife with an eight inch clip point blade. Nor was this her sole armament. To her left lay a Winchester Model of 1866 carbine, its woodwork embellished by patterns made from brass thumb-tacks, removed from its buckskin pouch inscribed in the same manner as her belt and serving to announce her membership of a Pahuraix war lodge. With them were an unstrung war bow and quiver of arrows, their flights protected from damage or the elements by a waterproof tarpaulin hood.

  It was neither the masculine clothes nor the weapons which had caused the lack of cordiality. In fact, knowing why the former was worn and the latter carried, no Comanche living so close to the traditional way of their nation would have held either against a visitor of ‘Is-A-Man’s’ social status.

  As was generally the case, despite her mother being white, Annie had been accepted as full Comanche by the Pahuraix band with whom she had spent all her life. From early childhood, she had always displayed greater proclivity towards masculine than feminine activities. Believing such a deviation from normal behaviour was ordained by Ka-Dih, the Great Spirit, she was encouraged to adopt the life-style of a man. Receiving the same education as would any tuinep approaching adolescence, she had acquired all the skills needed to take her through being a tuivitsi and had attained the honored state of tehnap.

  Before Annie could gain the desired advancement by riding on a war trail, or successfully ‘raiding’—as the Nemenuh called their favorite sport of stealing horses from people outside their nation—the Pahuraix had signed a peace treaty and accompanied the other bands, with the exception of the Kweharehnuh, on to reservations. Nevertheless, an opportunity to gain acclaim had arisen. Four Mexicans, bandidos masquerading as vaqueros, had come across and raped three girls from her village while drunk on tequila. Knowing there could be serious repercussions should vengeance be sought by the braves, she had claimed a puha dream forecasting bad luck would result if anybody other than herself tried to deal with the matter. Receiving support from the senior ‘old man’ chiefs and medicine man, who shared her summations and desire to avoid trouble with the authorities, she had been granted seven days to carry out the mission. Before the time had elapsed, she had achieved her purpose. Catching up with the errant quartet, she had killed three. Her treatment of the fourth, which he claimed later—although not to any peace officer—was inflicted by twelve male braves, had rendered him completely incapable of ever again repeating the transgression.

  Partly because of lack of evidence, a Grand Jury convened to investigate the incident at the request of the agent for the reservation who had accepted the Sun Oath of the elders that no man of the Pahuraix had struck down the Mexicans without pressing the matter further. Being Texans, wanting to retain peaceful relations with the Comanche, and having a repugnance for rapists, the jurors had publicly exonerated the band of being implicated in the matter. While Annie’s participation was not revealed to white people in general, and those who suspected it kept silent, the story was passed around the other bands and even the Kweharehnuh received it. Furthermore, her handling of the affair had gained her acceptance as a tehnap and the granting of a ‘ man-name’ as befitting a warrior who had performed such a difficult and dangerous deed. From then on, amongst the Nemenuh, she was known as ‘Is-A-Man’.

  Even before her elevation to tehnap, finding Annie was intelligent and quick to adapt to changed circumstances, as well as being appreciative of the need to live on amicable terms with white people, the agent for the reservation had trained her to be a most useful liaison between the two races of her bloodline. Given the added status, she had been able to carry out the task even more adequately. Nor were her activities along such lines confined to the Pahuraix and other Comanche signatories of the peace treaty. Once before, she had come to the Palo Duro country and helped avert trouble between the Kweharehnuh and the nearest white community. The leaders of the band had proved most grateful for what she had helped to do. Not only had she been treated as a honored guest, but she was told she would always be welcome at the village.

  Annie’s return was not for social reasons. It had come about as a result of disturbing rumors and reports received by the agent of the Pahuraix reservation. Usually there would not have been any need for her to engage upon such an investigation. Morton Lewis, a rancher in the vicinity, had a similar mixed birthright to her own. As grandson of Chief Wolf Runner, he had always had unrestricted access to the Kweharehnuh’s territory. Unfortunately, while in Kansas with a trail herd, he had broken both legs in a riding accident and could not return quickly enough to look into the matter which was troubling various white authorities.

  Arriving on a three-horse relay, used to speed the journey, Is-A-Man had found she was received less cordially than during the previous visit. She had not been turned away and, in fact, had been given accommodation in an unoccupied tipi. However, in spite of being told nothing to confirm her suppositions, what she had seen and deduced suggested there was a sound foundation for the misgivings of the agent and council of old men chiefs for all the bands on the reservations.

  Not only were a number of strangers present, men from several tribes not usually considered friendly by the Nemenuh, but there was a significant change in the leadership of the Kweharehnuh. In addition to others who would have received Annie in friendship, Wolf Runner, Cicatriz Honorable—Noble Scar—and the medicine man, Healing Hands, were dead. When she had sought to learn how they had met their end, even their families had been uncommunicative. Also conspicuous by his absence had been the senior old man chief, Ten Bears. However, despite meeting a similar reticence with regard to him, she knew something of his fate. He had left the village and, evading pursuers sent to prevent him, arrived at Fort Sorrel with an offer to make a treaty and bring his people peacefully on to a reservation. [7]

  The previous hierarchy had been replaced by men who Annie knew to be hostile to white people and vociferous advocates of a return to the good old days of practically unrestricted roaming and riding the war trail. There was also a new medicine man. Much younger than was usual for one to attain a position of such importance, going by what she had heard, Prophet—as his name could best be translated into English—possessed powers exceeding those of his predecessor. She had also learned he claimed to be a hitherto unheard of son of the late Pohawe. However, because of the way death had come to those who offended or opposed her in the days of her malignant influence over the band, she had been considered more witch than medicine woman while she lived. [8]

  There had been much about Prophet which aroused Annie’s curiosity and speculations. His build was typical of the Nemenuh, but his features suggested mixed blood. This could be expected, however, as Pohawe had had a Mexican mother. Instead of spending his time amongst the villagers, he was most frequently in attendance with the strangers and particularly those who she found especially interesting. While they had the appearance and dressed in a style appropriate for warriors of Apache, Sioux, Cheyenne and other ‘Plains’ tribes, they always struck her—as did the medicine man—as not being entirely comfortable in such attire. What was more, they seemed equally ill at ease when squatting around a fire and eating in the primitive fashion of their hosts. Although they avoided coming into contact with her, their behavior reminded her of Indians she had met who had attended schools and acquired a taste for the ways of the white men, then were compelled for some reason to return to their own people.

  Possessing a shrewd discernment, Annie guessed the change in her reception was at the instigation of Prophet. The story of how she had dealt with the Mexicans had reached the
Kweharehnuh, losing nothing in the telling, so the rest of the population—even the new leaders—had been cordial at first. However, even though she had tried to avoid allowing her interest in whatever might be going on to become too apparent, the friendliness had changed to reticence and evasion. She had been too wise to delve deeper under the circumstances, guessing any attempt to do so would lead to her being asked, at the very least to leave the village.

  Despite being engrossed in trying to decide how she might gain the information she required, Is-A-Man was subconsciously on the alert for possible danger. Hearing a slight noise from just outside the tipi, then becoming aware of a surreptitious movement, she recognized it for what it was and reached for and slid the Army Colt from the holster with her thumb curled around the spur of the hammer and her right forefinger entering the trigger-guard. Normally visitors paying a call during the hours of darkness announced their arrival openly and, when invited, came through the flap of the door. They did not, as whoever had disturbed her thoughts was doing, ease up the side wall and slip under it to gain admittance.

  ‘Don’t shoot!’ a feminine voice whispered urgently, in response to the clicking as the hammer of the revolver was brought to fully cocked. ‘One keeps watch on the door and I had to come in this way!’