that make a man.
Through the long afternoon, we plodded steadily west, the blackened earth only a few hundred yards off on our right. The low gray clouds broke, and the sky cleared. The grass was changing, too.
We rarely saw the tall bluestem that had grown further east. Now it appeared only in a few bottoms. There was a little bluestem, June grass and needle grass.
Slowly, the herd was gettin' trail broke.
Once in a while, some old mossyhorn steer would make a break to go home, and we'd have to cut him back into the herd, but generally they were holdin' steady. A rangy old brindle steer had taken the lead and held it. He was mean as a badger with his tail in a trap and would fight anything that argued with him, so mostly nobody did.
Cap rode back to me just about sundown as we were rounding the stock into a hollow near a slough.
'Tell,' he said, 'better come an' have a look whilst it's light.' He led the way to the far side of the slough, and we studied the ground. The grass was pressed down here and there, the remains of a fire and the tracks of two travois.
'Six or seven, I'd say,' Cap said, 'but you're better at this than me.' Well, I took a look around. 'Six or seven,' I agreed. 'Maybe eight. One of them travois leaves a deep trail, and I figure they've got a wounded man on it.
'They've had them a fight,' I said, 'and that's odd because there's at least two women along. It's no war party.' 'There's a papoose, too,' Cap said.
'If you look yonder by that rock, you'll see where they leaned his cradle board.' I indicated a dirty piece of cloth lying in the trampled-down grass. It was very bloody.
'Somebody is hurt,' I said. 'Probably the man on the travois.' Squatting, I sat on my heels and looked over the place where they'd camped and the ashes left from their fire. 'Yesterday,' I said, 'maybe the day before.' 'And they're headin' west, like us.' 'We got to keep an eye out. We'll be comin' up with them maybe tomorrow night or next morning. They aren't going to make much time.' 'What do you make of it?' Cap asked.
'A papoose in the cradle board, one walkin' about youngster, two women and four men.
Two of the men are oldish, gettin' on in years.
One's a youngster--fightin' age but young. Then there's the wounded man.' 'I spotted 'em a while back.' Cap put the butt of his rifle on the ground.
'They've been keepin' to low ground. Looks to me like they're scared.' Well, I took my hat off and wiped the sweat off my forehead, then put my hat on and tugged her down tight. 'Cap,' I said, 'we'd best sleep light and step careful because whatever's after them is comin' our way, too.'
Chapter III
We were taking it easy. We had a long way to go, but the season was early, and there was no use us gettin' so far north that the grass wouldn't have come yet. The country was greenin', but it would take time. We had come up to the Jim River just below Bear Creek.
Cap an' Tyrel scouted ahead, riding into the trees to see if company waited on us, but there was nobody. There was fair grass on the plain and mighty good grass in the creek bottom, so we swung our herd around and bedded them down.
Swingin' along the edge of the trees, I dabbed a loop on a snag and hauled it up for the fire.
Lin was already down from the wagon and picking up some flat stones he could use to set pots on.
We hadn't any chuck wagon, and grub was scarce. Leavin' Brandy with the stock, Tyrel rode down to where I sat my horse. 'Saw some deer back yonder.' He gestured toward the creek. 'Figured I'd ride out and round up some meat.' 'Sure.' As he turned his mount away, I said, 'Keep your eyes open for those Injuns. I think they're somewhere about.' 'Maybe so.' He pulled up for a moment.
'Night before last--maybe I was wrong, but I thought I smelled smoke.' He let it rest for a minute, and then he said, 'Tell? You know what I think? I think those Injuns are ridin' in our shadow. For protection, like.' He took out his Winchester and rode off into the trees, but what he said stayed with me. Those Indians were only a handful, and they'd seen trouble from somebody. Tyrel might be right, and they could be stayin' close to us with the idea that they'd not be attacked with us so close by.
By the time I started back for camp, the cattle had settled down. A few were still grazing on last year's grass, but most of them were full as ticks. I wasn't fooled by their good shape because I knew rough country lay ahead of us.
When I stepped down from the saddle and ground hitched my horse, the other two riders had come in and were drinkin' coffee. Gilcrist was a lean, dark man who handled a rope well and seemed to know something about stock but was obviously a gambler.
He'd not had much luck getting up a game around camp because mostly when we bedded down the cattle, we were too tired to do anything but crawl into our blankets ourselves. The man traveling with him was a big, very heavy man but not fat. He was no taller than me, maybe even a mite shorter, but he was a good fifty pounds heavier, and it wasn't fat. Gilcrist called him the Ox, so we followed suit. Nobody ever did ask him his name, as folks just didn't ask questions.
Whatever somebody named you or whatever you answered to was good enough.
Just as I was stepping down from my bronc, I heard a rifle shot. 'We'll have fresh meat for supper,' I said.
Gilcrist glanced around. 'Suppose he missed?' 'That was Tyrel. He doesn't miss.' A few minutes later, Tyrel rode into camp with the best parts of a deer. He unloaded the meat at the fire and led his horse away to strip its gear. Nobody said anything, but when Tyrel came back into camp, I noticed Gilcrist sizing him up.
We ate, and Tyrel spoke quietly to me.
'They're about, Tell. I spotted one of them watchin' me.' He paused a moment. 'I left them a cut of the meat.' 'He see you?' 'Uh-huh. I laid it out nice and ready for him. I think they're hard up.' I turned to Gilcrist and the Ox. 'When you finish, ride out and let Cap and Brandy come in.' The Ox wiped his hands on his pants. 'Do the kid good to wait a mite. Teach him something.' I looked across the fire at him. 'If he needs teaching, I'll teach him. You relieve him.' The Ox leaned back on his elbow. 'Hell, I just got here. They can wait.' 'Relieve him,' I said, 'now.' The Ox hesitated, then slowly got to his feet, deliberately prolonging the movements.
'Oh, all right,' he said. 'I'll go let mama's little boy come in.' He mounted his horse and rode out. Gilcrist got to his feet, then commented, 'Better go easy with him. He's a mighty mean man.' 'Where I come from they're all mean if you push them,' I said. 'If he stays on this job, he'll do his work.' Gilcrist looked around. 'Mighty big country out here. Looks to me like a man could do what he wanted.' 'Boot Hill is full of men who had that idea.' Tyrel spoke casually, as if bored.
'It's a big country, all right, big enough for men who are big enough.' Gilcrist mounted up and rode out, and Tyrel threw his coffee on the grass. 'Looks like trouble.' 'I saw it when I hired them, but who else could I get? Nobody wanted to ride north into wild country.' 'Maybe they wanted to. Maybe they had reason.' 'That big one,' I commented, 'looks strong enough to wrassle a bull. Maybe I should save him for Logan. Logan likes his kind.' 'Maybe. Maybe you won't be able to save him, Tell. Maybe he won't wait that long.' Cold winds blew down from the north, and there were occasional spitting rains. The scattered patches of snow were disappearing, however, and the trees along the river bottoms were green. There were pussywillows along the bottoms, too, and patches of crocus growing near the snow.
We moved north, day after day, following the course of the James River but holding to the hills on one side or the other.
As we came down the hill into the valley where the James and Pipestem met, Tyrel rode over to where I was. 'Cold,' he said, meanin' the wind, 'mighty cold!' 'There's wood along the river,' I said, 'and we'll rest up for a couple of days. It's needful that Orrin have time. No tellin' whether he'll find the men we need or not.' 'Wish we could get rid of them two.' Tyrel gestured toward the Ox and Gilcrist.
'I just don't cotton to them.' 'Nor me,' I said, 'an' old Cap is keepin' his mouth shut, but it's hard.' Turning to look at him, I said, 'Tye, all day I've been thinkin' of the mountains back home. Must be I'm gettin' old or something, but I keep thinkin' of how it was back home with ma sittin' by the fire workin' on her patchwork quilt. Night came early in the winter months, and lookin' out the window a body could see pa's lanterns making patterns on the snow as he walked about. He'd be doin' the last of the chores, but when he came in, he always brought an armful of wood for the wood box.' 'I recall,' Tyrel said. 'We sure spent some time climbin' around those mountains! All the
