The Sacketts - Lonely On The Mountain Part 3

Many a man thinks large of himself because he doesn't know the company he's in. No matter how good a man can get at anything, there's always a time when somebody comes along who's better.

It was Tyrel who worried me, too. Tyrel was a first-cla.s.s cattleman, a good man with handling men, and he never hunted trouble, but neither did trouble have to look very far to find him. Orrin an' me, we might back off a little and give a trouble-huntin' man some breathin' s.p.a.ce.

Not Tyrel a" you hunted trouble with him, you'd bought yourself a packet. He didn't give breathing s.p.a.ce; he moved right in on you. A man who called his hand had better be reaching for his six-shooter when he did it.

Worst of it was, he seemed kind of quiet and boy-like, and a body could make a serious mistake with him.

Back in the high-up hills where we came from, fightin' was what we did for fun. You got into one of those s.h.i.+ndigs with a mountain boy and it was root hog or die. Pa, who had learned his fightin' from boyhood and seasoned himself around trappers' rendezvous, taught us enough to get started. The rest we picked up ourselves.

The wind was picking up a mite, and there was a coolness on it that felt like rain, or snow. It was late in the season for snow, but I'd heard of snow in this country when it was summer anywhere else. When we were close to the Hawk's Nest, we bedded them down for the night.

"Lin, feed 'em as quick as ever you can," I said to the cook. "I think we're sittin' in for a spell of weather." I pointed toward the Hawk's Nest. "I'm going up yonder to have a look over the country before it gets dark."

The Hawk's Nest was a tree-capped b.u.t.te rising some four hundred feet above the surrounding country, and when I topped out, I found a gap in the trees and had a good view of the country.

There was a smoke rising about a mile up the creek from where we were camped at the junction of the Pipestem and the Little Pipestem. Far ahead, I could see a line of green that showed the Pipestem curved around to the west. Somewhere off there was the Sheyenne.

The water in the spring was fresh and cold. I drank, then watered the line-back dun I was riding and swung into the saddle. Just as I was starting to come off the top, I glimpsed another smoke, only this one was to the west of us and seemed to be coming from a bottom along the Pipestems as it came from the west and before it began its curve toward the south.

It lay somewhat to the west of the route we should be taking on the morrow but not so far off that it wasn't cause for worry.

For a time, I just sat there under cover of the last trees and studied that layout. I brushed a big horsefly off the shoulder of the dun and said, "You know, Dunny, this here country is sure crowdin' up. Why there's three smokes goin' up within a five-mile square. Gettin' so it ain't fittin' for man or beast"

Then I turned that dun down trail and headed for the beef and beans. Seemed so long since I'd eaten, my stomach was beginnin' to think my throat was cut.

By the time I reached the fire, Cap an' Brandy were just finis.h.i.+ng up. Cap glanced over at me, and I said "We've got neighbors."

"I seen some tracks," Cap said.

"How many?"

"Four, looked like. Shod horses. Big horses, like you find up here in the north where you have to buck snow in the wintertime."

"There's no way we're going to hide eleven hundred head of cattle," I said, "but we won't start westerin' for a bit. Come daybreak, we'll hold on the North Star."

"Back in Texas," Cap said, "when night came, we used to line up a wagon tongue on the North Star. Use it for a pointer."

Lin handed me a tin plate full of beans and beef, and I took a look at Brandy. He was settin' quiet, almighty serious for a boy his years.

"You havin' any trouble?" I asked him.

He gave me a quick look. "No, not really."

"Stand clear if you can," I said. "That's a mean lot"

"I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt it. But right now I need every man, need 'em bad. Once we hook up with Orrin, it may be some better, but we don't know. Understand, I'm not puttin' any stake rope on you. A man just has to go his own way."

Brandy went out to throw his saddle on a fresh horse, and Cap looked up from his coffee. "He's makin' a fair hand, Tell, and he's got the makin's."

Well, I knew that. Trouble was I had to walk almighty careful not to step on his pride. No matter how rough it was, a man has to saddle his own broncs in this western country. Only I was afraid Brandy was goin' to have to tackle the big one before he'd whupped anybody his own size. It didn't seem fair, but then, a lot of things aren't We take them as they come.

If I was around a"

But who knew if I would be?

The Ox looked fat, but he wasn't. He was just heavy with bone and muscle, and his broad, hard-boned face looked like it had been carved from oak. He was a man of tremendous strength, with thick arms, ma.s.sive forearms, and powerful hands. He gave me the feeling of a man who has never seen anything he couldn't lift or any man who could even test him.

I said as much to Tyrel. "Gilcrist told me he'd seen him break a man's back just wra.s.slin' for fun."

"I don't think he ever did anything just for fun," I said.

Tyrel nodded. "You be careful, Tell. That Ox ain't human. He's a brute."

"I want no part of him," I replied.

On most cow outfits, a man stands night guard about two hours at a time, but we were short-handed and in wild country. The Ox and Gilcrist were going to be on from six to ten, Cap and Brandy would take over from ten until two, with Tyrel and me closing out until morning when one of us would come in, get the fire started, and awaken Lin so's he could fix breakfast If we were going to be attacked by Indians, it would most likely occur just before daybreak, but n.o.body has any certainty of any such thing.

When Cap touched me on the shoulder, it was just shy of two, and I was up, tugging on my boots. Under a tree about thirty yards away, Tyrel was already on his feet. We made it a rule to sleep apart, so if somebody closed in on one of us, the other could outflank them. There were those who thought we'd be better off side by side, but we figured otherwise. Too easy for one man to hold a gun on us both.

All was quiet, the cattle resting. The stars were bright, here and there blotted by clouds. A body could see the darkness of the trees, the lumped bodies of the cattle, and hear the footfalls of a horse as it moved.

It was past three, closing in on four o'clock before it started to grow gray. The line-back dun was moving like a ghost toward a meeting with Tyrel. Suddenly, the dun's head came up, ears p.r.i.c.ked. My Winchester slid into my hands, and at that moment I saw Tyrel.

He was sitting quiet in the saddle, his hands on his thighs, reins in the left hand.

Facing him were four Sioux warriors.

Chapter V.

Now I'd lay a hundred to one those Injuns had never seen a fast draw, but if one of them lifted a weapon, it would be the last thing they ever did see.

At that range, there was just no way he was going to miss, and that meant he would take out two for sure, and likely he'd get three. Time and again, I've seen him fire, and men would swear he'd fired once when actually he'd fired twice and both bullets in a spot the size of a two-bit piece.

They'd never seen a fast draw, but they were fighting men, and there was something about him, just a-settin' there quiet with his hand on his thigh that warned them they'd treed a bad one.

Then eyes were riveted on him, so I was within fifty feet and moving in before they saw me, and I was on their flank.

"Something wrong, Tyrel?" I asked.

He never turned his head, but he spoke easy. "Looks like I was about to find out."

One big Indian turned his pony to face me, and the minute he did, I recognized him. "Ho! I see my old friend, High-Backed Bull!" I said.

He looked to be as tall as my six feet and four inches, and he was heavier, but a lean, powerful man. He was darker than most, with high cheekbones and a Roman nose. He stared at me.

"I have no friend who is white eyes," he said.

Me, I pushed my hat brim back so's he could see my face a little better. "You and me, Bull, we had a nice run together. That was years back, down on the Bozeman Trail.

"You were a mighty strong man," I added, "a big warrior." I doubled my biceps and clapped a hand to it, then pointed at his. "Much strong!" I said. "Run very fast."

He peered at me. "Sack-ETT!" he shouted. "You Sack-ETT!"

I grinned at him. "Long time back, Bull!" Now I knew he had no liking for me. He'd tried to kill me then, not from any hatred of me but simply because I was a white man driving cattle over the Bozeman Trail, which the Sioux had closed to us. They'd caught me, stripped me, and had me set to run the gauntlet, only I'd started before they were ready and had broken free, taking off across the country. John Coulter had done it one time, and maybe there was a chance.

They came after me, the whole lot of them, only I'd been running in the mountains since I was a youngster, and I began putting distance between us. All but this one, the one they called High-Backed Bull. Soon it was just the two of us, him and me, and a good mile off from the rest, and he throwed a spear at me.

It missed by a hair, and then he closed in on me, running fast. Dropping suddenly, he spilled right over me, and he was up, quick as a cat, but I was up, too, and when he come at me, I throwed him with a rolling hip lock as pa had showed me long ago. I throwed him, all right, and throwed him hard. He hit the ground, and I grabbed up his spear and was about to stick him with it.

He'd been stunned by the shock of hitting the ground, just for a moment, like. He stared up at me, and he was such a fine-lookin' man, I just couldn't do it. I just broke the spear across my knee, threw down the pieces, and I taken out across country.

Some of the Injuns had gone back for ponies, and they were coming at me when I made the trees atop a knoll. They come up, a-runnin', and I scrooched down behind a bush, and when this rider paused to swing his pony between two trees, I hit him across the small of the back with a thick branch I'd picked up.

It knocked him forward and off balance, and in a moment I was jerkin' him off the pony and swingin' to its back.

We ran those ponies, me ahead and them after me, until the sun went down, but I'd circled around and came back to where my outfit was camped. I went through patches of woods, across plains, down rocky draws, and finally I seen ol' Tilson's high-top sombrero against the sky, and I called out, "Don't shoot, Til! It's me! Sackett!"

Well, they'd give me up for dead. Two days the Injuns had me, and there'd been a third day of gettin' away from them.

"Where the h.e.l.l you been? We're short-handed enough," Til said, " 'thout you taken off a Sundayin' around over the hills whilst the rest of us work."

"I was took by Injuns," I said.

"A likely story!" he scoffed. "You've still got your hair."

He pointed toward camp. "Get yourself some coffee. You'll be standin' guard at daybreak."

Well, I walked down into camp, and ol' Nelson was standin' there by the fire. "You bring any company with you?" he asked.

"Tried to avoid it," I said, "but there might be one of them show up. I done some runnin'," I said, "and then I got this horse."

"You call that a horse. Won't weigh six hundred pound."

"Don't you miscall him. He can run."

Nelson took up a cup and filled it. "Have yourself something." He looked at me. "You et?"

"Oh, sure! Don't you worry none about me! Why, two, three days ago, I et at a cow camp run by Nelson Storey, who was takin' cows to Montana. I ain't had a bit since, but then what can a man expect? I didn't come up on no rest-too-rawnts, and them Injuns didn't figure to waste grab on a man who wasn't goin' to live long enough to digest it"

He pointed. "There's some roast buffalo, camp-baked beans, and some prunes. That should fix you up." He took out a big silver watch. "You got two hours to sleep before you stand guard."

"Nels," I said, "I lost my rifle, and a""

"One of the boys picked it up," he said. "It's in the wagon. Draw you a new knife there. I'll dock you for the time off."

Well, I knew he wouldn't do no such thing, but I was so glad to be back, I didn't care if he did. Only when I was a-settin' my horse out there by the cattle that night, I thought back to the hatred lookin' at me out of those fierce black eyes of High-Backed Bull, and I was glad I'd seen the last of him.

Until now a"

He stared at me. "You Sack-ETT," he said.

Tyrel said, "You actually know this Injun?"

"I know him," I said, "from that trip I took up the Bozeman Trail after the War Between the States. We had us a little run-in back yonder. They had me fixed to run the gauntlet a" fifty-sixty big Injuns all lined up with me to run down the aisle betwixt 'em and each one hittin' or cuttin' at me.

"Well, I recalled that story pa told us about John Coulter, so I done likewise. I just taken off across the country and not down their gauntlet. This big buck here, he durned near caught me."

"So Sack-ETT," Bull said, "it is again."

Smiling, I held out my hand. "Friends?" I said.

He stared at me. "No friend," he said. "I kill."

"Don't try it. I'm bad luck for you. Me," I said, "bad medicine for you, much bad medicine."

He stared at me, very cool and not at all scared. "Soon you hair here." He touched his horse's bridle where three other scalps, one of them obviously that of a white man, already dangled.

He changed the subject. With a wide sweep of his hand, he said, "This belong to Sioux. What you do here?"

"Crossing it, Bull. We're just driving across on the way to Fort Qu'Appelle." It was a Canadian fort, and the name just came to me. "Maybe we'll meet on the way back."

They turned and rode away, and Tyrel, he just sat there looking after them, and then he shook his head. "There was a time there when I figured I'd have to do the fastest shootin' I ever done."

Gilcrist and the Ox come ridin' up. They could see the four Sioux ridin' away. "What happened?" Gil asked.

"No trouble," I said. "Just a Sioux who tried to take my hair one time, thinkin' about another try."

"You knew him?"

"Some years back," I said. 'Td just come out of the Sixth Cavalry and a" "

"The Sixth?" He was surprised. "Sackett? Were you that Sackett?"

"So far as I know, I was the only one in the outfit."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned," he said. "I'll be dee-double d.a.m.ned!"

"That was a long time ago," I said. "Let's get 'em movin'!"

We lined them out and pointed them north and prayed a little that we wouldn't meet any more Sioux, but after my meeting with High-Backed Bull, I knew they'd be back.