King Blood

perpendicular, then gradually bent down over him until he was looking up at the ceiling.

From somewhere came the sound of a mighty crash. So great that its echoes seemed never to end. There was a moment of incredible pain, and then bliss such as Tepaha had never believed possible.

_'By God, we do it, Old Ike,' he thought proudly._

The kitchen squaws came running in again, and now the clattering of their voices was such as to demolish the brain of the wisest man. But Tepaha had already deafened his ears to them.

Permanently. *Epilogue*

The lowest of dogs may piss on the loftiest of dead men…

This is well known.

Arlie commented idly on the fact one fall Sunday afternoon when the two brothers, accompanied by Joshie and Kay, visited the last earthly resting place of Old Tepaha and Old Ike. The two men had not been buried in the despised fashion of whites – for why should they? Instead, their fully-clad bodies had been placed in a comfortable sitting position, then covered over with rock to form an Indian wickiup. They were thus protected from the teeth of varmints, but not entirely from the elements, which, after all, they had lived with all their lives and might need in death (so far as anyone knew). It was possibly this last which inspired Arlie's remarks that Sunday afternoon:

'Heard me a story once about a Osage that was buried in a wickiup. Seemed like he'd owned several pet bitches an' their smell was still strong on him. So naturally every damn dog in the Nation come around to take a piss on his grave. Well, it turned out that he wasn't really dead at all, just in what they call a state of suspensive annie-mation, or something, an' all this dog piss leaked through and snapped him out of it. He came bustin' out of the rocks, an' went back to his village. But it was the funniest God damn thing, Critch – you know what happened?'

Critch nodded smiling, having heard the story: no other Indian would speak to the man, or give any sign of recognizing his existence; not even his own wife, when he had intercourse with her. As far as the Indians were concerned, a man who died stayed dead, and this creature who had returned to them was only an evil spirit.

'Well' Arlie took a critical last look at the graves. 'Just one thing missing, I guess. There ought to be a war spear sticking up betwixt 'em, with a scalp hangin' from the top. Just don't seem right somehow without it,' he added, sidling a glance at his brother. 'Critch, y'wouldn't feel hurt, would you, if I slipped into your room some night an' lifted a little hair?'

'I wouldn't feel hurt,' Critch said. 'But you would.'

Arlie laughed and slapped him on the back. They headed their horses homeward, the two girls following.

As they rode, Arlie spoke seriously to his brother. 'Kinda late to be thankin' you, Critch, but better late than never. Anyways I'm obliged to you for not tellin' the marshal that I stole that money off of you.'

'Quite all right,' Critch said easily. 'Think nothing of it.'

'O' course,' Arlie continued thoughtfully. 'I reckon I was kinda doin' you a favor by not tellin' him I stole it from you. The kinda money that was, it wasn't exactly comfortable t' have a claim on it.'

'But I did claim it, dear brother. I admitted that it was mine.'

'Uh-huh, sure. After you'd had time to think up a story to go with it.'

'Why don't we put it this way?' Critch said. 'You don't owe me anything, and I don't owe you anything.'

Arlie hesitated; then, shook his head. Said he reckoned Critch did owe him something. 'Look how I spoke up for you when the marshal had you pinned for murderin' Big Sis! Claimed I done it myself, didn't I?'

'What about it?' Critch said. 'I did the same thing for you.'

'Yea, sure. Because you wanted to make yourself look good to Paw! I know, because I, uh – Anyways, you knew danged well you wasn't running any risk by confessing! What the hell? If Marshal Harry'd had any idea that either one of us killed that woman, he'd've arrested us right away instead o' standing around talkin' for an hour!'

The brothers stared at each other. A teasing smile played around Critch's lips, and Arlie slowly reddened.

'Like you was sayin', little brother,' he grinned sheepishly. 'You don't owe me nothin' and I don't owe you nothing. We was both tryin' to make up to Paw. We both knew we was safe confession' t'the murder. Reckon we think so much alike that, uh…'

He broke off, giving his brother a long, penetrating look. Then, asked if he could ask a fair question.

'By all means,' Critch said.

'Well, looky, then… how do you honest-to-God feel about me? I mean, do you ever sort of feel that you'd like to, uh, have this place to yourself? If you could work it out safe and easy, I mean.'

'I'll ask you a question,' Critch said. 'The same one.'

'Well, uh, would you believe me if I told you?'

'Would you believe me if I told you?' Critch asked.

Arlie scowled at him. Then, gradually, the scowl crinkled into a smile, and he burst into whoops of laughter.

'God damn, little brother! They's sure as hell one thing for sure!'

'Which is?'

'We may have to bust our ass on this place, but we sure ain't never gonna get bored! No, sir, they ain't never gonna be a dull minute for you an' me!'

Critch chuckled agreement.

As they rode on through the fall afternoon, Joshie and Kay, who had been primly decorous theretofore, were suddenly overcome with a spasm of giggling, the sound of which drifted up to the two men. Arlie tried to make his face severe – after all, he was the family's eldest now. Failing miserably in the attempt, he spoke chidingly to his brother.

The squaws were getting out of hand, he declared, and it was largely Critch's fault. For where you had one squaw with a man and one without, there was no damn telling what might happen. And what the by-God was wrong with Critch that he didn't marry Joshie?

'What's the hurry?' Critch shrugged. 'I'll get around to it some day.'

_'Some day?_ What kind of answer is that? You like her don't you.'

'Very much. In fact, I think she's the most delightful female I've ever known.'

'Well, she's crazy about you, too. So marry her, dammit! She needs a man, and you need a woman.'

'Oh,' Critch said innocently. 'You mean we need each other to sleep with? That's why we should get married?'

Arlie said, why, sure, what else, adding that he had been greatly concerned about his brother's sexless state. 'It just ain't natural for a man not to be gettin' his stuff,' he said darkly. 'An' it sure don't do a squaw no good either. Why, it plumb makes me shiver t'think what might happen, if you an' Joshie don't start knockin' it off pretty soon. Might go crazy as bed bugs.'

'Well, gracious me!' Critch said. 'We certainly can't have that, now can we?'

He looked over his shoulder, swung an arm in a beckoning motion. The two girls immediately drew abreast of them, and Critch lifted Joshie from her saddle and onto his own.

She cuddled against him happily, giving him the reins of her horse. While Arlie stared dumbfounded, Critch suggested that his brother and Kay take a long ride by themselves, since he and Joshie had private business to transact at the hotel.

'We usually take care of it at bedtime,' he explained, 'but that suddenly seems too long to wait. I hope you don't mind… big brother?'

Arlie gulped; scowled. 'Now, look here – ' he began. 'What the hell's goin' on here? What kind of business you takin' care of, anyways?'

'Well…' Critch arched an amused brow at him. 'Let's just say that it isn't fiddling, but it's something that rhymes with the word.'

Joshie again burst into giggles, quivering deliciously against him. Kay gave Arlie a resigned look, then rolled her eyes heavenward.

'Ho, boy,' she sighed, 'you plenty damn stupid, ol' husband.'

'But – but – God dang it!' Arlie looked helplessly from his wife to Critch and Joshie. 'I mean, why, hell's fire