dead. Call had seen the lance in the air?Buffalo Hump didn’t look like a man who would let fly with a lance just to miss.
When the flash came, not as bright as before, Call saw that the plain was still empty. He began to walk toward the area where he had seen Gus?it was the direction of camp, anyway. He yelled Gus’s name twice, but there was no answer. Again the hair stood up on his neck. Buffalo Hump could be anywhere. He might be crouched behind any sage bush, any clump of chaparral, waiting in the dark for the next unwary Ranger to walk by.
Call didn’t intend to be an unwary Ranger?he meant to take every precaution, but what precaution could you take on an empty plain at night with a dangerous Indian somewhere close? He wishedthat he could have got more instruction from Shadrach or Bigfoot about the best procedure to follow in such situations. They had fought Indians for years?they would know. But so far neither of them had said more than two words to him, and those were mostly comments about horseshoeing or some other chore.
The lightning dimmed and dimmed, as the storm moved east. Call could see no trace of Gus, but of course, between the lightning flashes the plain was pitch dark. Gus could be dead and scalped behind any of the sage bushes or clumps of chaparral.
Call walked back and forth for awhile, hoping Gus would hear him and call out. He decided shooting was unwise?if he shot anymore, Major Chevallie might chide him for wasting the ammunition.
Heartsick, sure that his friend was dead, Call began to trudge back to camp. He felt it was mainly his fault that the tragedy had occurred. He should have fought Gus, if necessary, to keep him at his post. But he hadn’t; Gus had walked off, and now all was lost.
It seemed to Call, as he walked back in dejection, that Gus should just have left him in the blacksmith’s shop. He didn’t know enough to be a Ranger?neither had his friend, and now ignorance had got Gus killed. Call was certain he was dead, too. Gus had a loud voice, louder even than Black Sam’s. If he wasn’t dead, he would be making noise.
Then, just as he was at the lowest ebb of dejection, Call heard the very voice he had supposed he would never hear again: Gus McCrae’s voice, yelling from the camp. Call ran as hard as he could toward the sound?he came running into camp so fast that Long Bill Coleman nearly shot him for a hostile.
Sure enough, though, there was Gus McCrae, alive and with his pants down. A Comanche lance protruded from his hip. The reason he was yelling was because Bigfoot and Shadrach were trying to pull it out.
THE LANCE WAS STUCK so deep in Gus’s hip that Bigfoot and Shadrach together couldn’t pull it out. It was a long, heavy lance?how Gus had managed to run all that way with it dangling from his hip Call couldn’t imagine. Gus kept yelling, as the two men tugged at it. Rip Green tried to steady Gus as the two older men attempted to work the lance out. Rip alone wasn’t strong enough?Bob Bascom had to come and help hold Gus in place.
Shadrach soon grew annoyed with Gus’s yelling, which was loud.
“Shut off your goddamn bellowing,” Shadrach said. “You’re yelling loud enough to call every Indian between here and the Cimarron River.”
“There wasn’t but one Indian,” Call informed them. “He had a big hump on his back. I seen him.”
At that news, the whole camp came to attention. Bigfoot and Shadrach ceased their efforts to extract the lance. Major Chevallie had been peering into the darkness, but his head snapped around when Call mentioned the hump.“You saw Buffalo Hump?” he said.
“He was the man who threw that lance,” Call said. “I saw him in the lightning flash. That was when he threw the lance. I thought he missed.”
“Nope, he didn’t miss,” Bigfoot said. “This is his buffalo lance. I’m surprised he wasted it on a boy.”
“I wish he hadn’t,” Gus said, his voice shaking. “I guess it’s stuck in my hipbone.”
“No, it’s nowhere near your damn hipbone,” Shadrach said. He squatted to take a better look at the lance head?then he waved Bigfoot away, twisted the lance a little, and with a hard yank, pulled it out. Gus fainted?Rip and Bob had loosened their hold for a moment; before they could recover, Gus fell forward on his face. Bob Bascom had looked aside, in order to spit tobacco. He kept so much tobacco in his mouth that he was prone to choking fits in time of action. Rip Green had just glanced at his bedroll; he was suspicious by nature and was always glancing at his bedroll to make sure no one was stealing anything from it. Both Rip and Bob were startled when Gus fell on his face?Call was, too. He had not supposed Gus McCrae would be the type to faint.
But blood was pouring out of Gus’s hip, and there seemed to be blood farther down his leg.
“Here, Sam,” Major Chevallie said, motioning to his cook. “You’re the doctor?tend to this man before he bleeds to death.”
“Need to get him closer to the fire so I can sew him up,” Sam said. He was a small man, about the size of Rip Green; his curly hair was white. Call was uncomfortable with him?he had had little experience of darkies, but he had to admit that the man cooked excellent grub and seemed to be expert in treating boils and other small ailments.
Sam quickly scooped some ash out of the campfire and used it to staunch the flow of blood. He patted ash into the wound until the bleeding stopped; while waiting for it to stop, he threaded a big darning needle.
Matilda walked up about that time, dragging her pallet. Gus’s yells had awakened her, and her mood was shaky. She kicked sand at Long Bill Coleman for no reason at all. The Mexican boy was asleep, but the old woman still sat by the fire, silent and unmoving.
“Sew that boy up before he gets conscious and starts bellowing again,” Shadrach said. “If there’s Indians around, they know where we are. This pup makes too much noise.”
“Why, they can mark our position by the fire?they wouldn’t need the yelling,” Bigfoot said. Gus soon proved to be awake enough to be sensitive to the darning needle. It took Matilda and Bigfoot and Bob Bascom to hold him steady enough that Sam could sew up his long wound.
“Why’d you kick that sand on me?” Long Bill asked Matilda while the sewing was in progress. He was a little hurt by Matilda’s evident scorn.
“Because I felt like kicking sand on a son of a bitch,” Matilda said. “You were the closest.”
“This boy’s lucky,” Sam said. “The lance missed the bone.”
“He might be lucky, but we ain’t,” Major Chevallie said. He was pacing around nervously.
“What I can’t figure out is why Buffalo Hump would be sitting out there by himself,” he added.
“He was sitting on a blanket,” Gus said. Sam had finally quit poking him with the big needle?that and the fact that he was alive made him feel a little better. Besides that, he was back in camp. He felt sure he was going to survive, and wanted to be helpful if he could.
“I ran right past him, that’s why he took after me,” Gus said. “He had a terrible big hump.”
Gus felt that he might want to relax and snooze, but that plan was interrupted by the old Comanche woman, who suddenly began to wail. The sound of her high wailing gave everybody a start.
“What’s wrong with her?now she’s howling,” Long Bill asked.
Shadrach went over to the old woman and spoke with her in Comanche, but she continued to wail. Shadrach waited patiently until she stopped.
“She’s a vision woman,” Shadrach said. “My grandma was a vision woman too. She would let out wails when she had some bad vision, just like this poor old soul.”
Call wanted the old woman to quiet down?her wailing had a bad effect on the whole camp. Her wails were as sad as the sound of the wind as it sighed over the empty flats. He didn’t want to hear such disturbing sounds, and none of the other Rangers did, either.Shadrach still squatted by the old woman, talking to her in her own tongue. The wind blew swirls of fine sand around them.
“Well, what now? What’s she saying?” Major Chevallie asked.
“She says Buffalo Hump is going to cut off her nose,” Shadrach said. “She was one of his father’s wives?I guess she didn’t behave none too well. Her people put her out to die, and Buffalo Hump heard about it. Now he wants to find her and cut off her nose.”
“I’d think he had better things to do,” the Major said. “She’s old, she’ll die. Why bother with her nose?”
“Because she behaved bad to his father,” Shadrach said, a little impatiently. Major Chevallie’s ignorance of Indian habits often annoyed him.
“I don’t like it that he’s out there,” Long Bill said. “Once he cuts this old woman’s nose off he might keep cutting. He might cut a piece or two off all of us, before he stops.”
“Why, if you’re worried, just go kill him, Bill,” Bigfoot said.
“He’s a swift runner, even with that hump,” Gus informed them. “He almost caught me, and I’m fleet.”
