'They're there, Woodrow,' Augustus said.
'They're just waiting till we get closer.
Look to your weapons, boys.' Young Jake Spoon was so terrified that he felt frozen. He put his hand on his pistol but was too scared to pull it out. If an Indian did come running at him Jake felt the fright alone would kill him. He realized he had been wrong not to stay in town. He felt as good as dead and just hoped the termination would be as quick and painless as possible.
'Well, if that's a Comanche, he not only sounds like a dog, he looks like a dog,' Call said--a large gray hound had just appeared, trotting back and forth amid the rocks.
Long Bill felt immediate relief.
'Why, I know that dog,' he said. 'That's old Howler, Ben Lily's dog. Ben probably shot a bear. That's all he does, shoot bears.' 'I doubt there's many bears out in this country,' Gus said.
'There's one less now--Ben Lily, he's deadly on bears.' The sight of the large gray dog dispelled the general apprehension. As they drew closer to the rocky ridge the hound started howling again, a dismal sound, Pea Eye thought. He had never been overly fond of the canine breeds.
Sure enough, when they clattered over the rocks that covered the ridge, they came upon a large, stooped man in buckskin clothes, skinning a young brown bear. The man's thick hair and long beard were evidently strangers to the comb or the brush. He favored them with a quick glance and then went on with his work.
'Howdy, Mr. Lily,' Long Bill said.
'What are you doing out here on the baldies?' He had intended the remark to be jocular, but Ben Lily took it literally.
'Skinning a bear,' he said.
'That bear's not much bigger than a cub,' Augustus said. 'If his ma's around here I expect she'll be wanting to eat us.' 'Shot her yesterday,' Ben Lily said.
'Took us a day to catch up with the cub. Howler and me, that's us.' Call thought the man looked daft. What use was a dead bear, in a place so remote? Of course he could eat some of the meat, but why take the skin, which was heavy and awkward to transport? Where would he take it, anyway? Yet the man seemed content at his task. He even began to whistle as he skinned, and he clearly had no interest in the rangers.
'Well, if you shot his ma, where's her skin?' Augustus asked. He too was puzzled by the skinning. How many bearskins could a man use?
'Buried,' Ben Lily said, a little testily.
'I bury skins. Then if I get caught in a blizzard I can dig up one of my skins and wrap up.' 'You best be worrying about Indians, not blizzards, Mr. Lily,' Long Bill said.
'If Buffalo Hump was to catch you I expect he'd throw you on a campfire and cook you.' Ben Lily disregarded that remark completely.
He finished with his skinning and sat down on a rock. He plunged his hunting knife into the ground to cleanse it, then took out a whetstone and began to sharpen the knife. The fact that his task was concluded seemed to put him in a sociable mood.
'You can have this bear meat,' he informed them. 'I don't eat much bear.' Deets had been hoping for such an offer. He immediately got down and began to inspect the carcass, meaning to secure the tenderest cuts. But what was tender, on a bear?
'We've been sent to look for Captain Inish Scull,' Call said. 'He was last seen going south with one scout. Have you seen or heard of him?' The name 'Scull' seemed to excite the man-- he looked at the group with interest for the first time.
'I know Scull,' Ben Lily said. 'Took on a hunt once, over east. He wanted to shoot bear and we shot 'em. One bear got into the canebrakes and Scull crawled in after him and shot him. He was a small fellow. He went right into that cane and shot that quick little bear.' 'That's him, he's a hunter,' Augustus said. 'We need to find him if we can.' Ben Lily was carefully folding the bloody bearskin.
'Ain't seen Scull since that hunt over east,' he said. 'I'd know him if I seen him, but I ain't seen him. I expect they took him in the big raid.' All the rangers were startled by the remark.
'Big raid? What big raid?' Gus asked.
Ben Lily looked at them with genuine astonishment.
'The big raid,' he repeated. 'Ain't you seen any dead? I buried six dead just yesterday, back up this creek. Six dead-- trying to farm where they oughtn't to farm. Took me all morning to bury them. I'd have caught this cub sooner if I hadn't had to do that burying.' 'We've been on the trail for two weeks,' Call said. 'We don't know anything about a raid. Was it Comanches?' 'It was Buffalo Hump,' Ben Lily said.
'He came down off the plains with a passel of warriors--a thousand or more.' 'A thousand braves--I doubt it,' Call said. 'People always think there's more Indians than there are, when the Comanches attack.' Ben Lily hoisted his bearskin onto one shoulder, and picked up his gun. Then he whistled for his dog.
'Go east,' he told them. 'See how many dead you find. There's dead along ever creek. I don't know how many men he came with but he struck Austin and nearly burned it down. This wasn't just a few scalp snatchers. Buffalo Hump came for war, and he made it.' All the rangers were stunned by his last statement.
'Struck Austin, are you sure?' Long Bill said.
'Struck it and burned most of it,' Ben Lily repeated. 'Kilt everybody he saw-- that's what I heard.' Then, without waiting for further comment or discussion, he took his gun and his bearskin and walked away. He took no more interest in the troop of rangers.
'Do you believe him, Woodrow?' Long Bill asked. 'My wife's in Austin--my Pearl.' 'I don't know why he'd lie to us,' Call said.
'Clara,' Gus said. 'My Lord. I wonder if she was gone when they struck.' I wonder if Maggie hid where I told her to, Call thought.
