“I know’d you boys wasn’t goin’ to leave me here,” Billy Taylor said with a wide smile spread across his face. Taylor was the youngest of the group, and at first glance most women found him good looking, but upon further examination there was something in his eyes that put them off. One woman said that he was like fine crystal, but with a flaw in its casting. “Yes, sir, I know’d you boys was goin’ to get me out of here, one way or the other.”
“Come on,” Ebersole said. “Let’s get out of here before anyone comes.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was not unusual for Running Elk to ride into the small town of DeMaris Springs but there was something going on today that was unusual. As he rode down Center Street he saw several people gathered around the front of a hardware store. Curious as to what was attracting so much interest, he guided his pony over to see. There, in front of the hardware store and strapped to boards so they could be stood up, were the bodies of a man, woman, and child. All three had been scalped, and a sign posted over the top of the three bodies read:
Frank, Ann, And Davey Barlow
MURDERED BY INDIANS
Running Elk was mounted, and was behind the crowd of people so at first, no one saw him. Then, a woman happened to turn and seeing Running Elk, screamed. Her scream caused the others to turn, then all saw Running Elk.
“There’s one of the savages now!” a man shouted.
“Get him! String him up!”
Running Elk spoke excellent English, and he was certain he could convince them that they were wrong.
“We did not do this terrible thing!” Running Elk shouted. “We are Crow! We are friends with the white man!”
“Get him! Get the heathen!”
Fortunately for Running Elk, none of the townspeople who gathered around the hardware store were armed. Neither were they mounted, so as they surged toward him, it was easy for Running Elk to slap his legs against the sides of his pony and gallop away.
Before Running Elk could get back home to warn the others, Many Buffalo, an older Crow who was very friendly with the whites, decided to take a wagon into town. He was accompanied by his granddaughter White Deer, her husband One Feather, their two children, and Quiet Stream, who was One Feather’s sister. Quiet Stream was riding into town in order to sell her blankets. One Feather was mounted on his pony, and he rode alongside the wagon, carrying on banter with his wife and children.
Suddenly a shot rang out, and Many Buffalo fell out of the wagon, dead. White Deer jumped down and tried to run away, but she was shot as well.
“Quiet Stream! Turn the wagon! Drive back to the village!” One Feather shouted.
Picking up the loose reins, Quiet Stream turned the wagon around, then drove away as rapidly as possible. Several white men came over the crest of a hill and began chasing her, but One Feather, who had stayed behind, was able to hold them off long enough to give Quiet Stream a head start.
After running the team for at least ten minutes at full speed, Quiet Stream looked back and, seeing no one, slowed the team to a walk. Then she saw a house ahead, and decided she would stop there for shelter. But as she approached, she was fired at by people within the house, so she knew she had no choice but to continue to run. The children, who were very young, were frightened, and worried about their mother and father.
Quiet Stream and her two small nephews made it safely back to the reservation only because her brother, One Feather, had succeeded in holding off the white men.
Back at the point of the initial attack, White Deer, who was shot twice, was lying helpless on the ground when she saw two of the men who had attacked them walk over to Many Buffalo and look down at the old Indian’s body.
She lay very quietly, pretending to be dead.
Though she didn’t know them by name, it was Sam Davis and Lee Regret who were leading the posse that had been constituted after the slaughter of the Barlow family.
“Look at the old son of a bitch,” Davis said, pointing to Many Buffalo’s body. “You know in his life he’s taken a few white scalps.”
“Yeah, I believe it,” Regret said.
“I don’t feel all that good ’bout killin’ the woman though,” one of the other riders said.
White Deer knew they were talking about her, and she lay very still, lest they realize that she was still alive.
“Why not? The Injuns didn’t mind killin’ the Barlow woman and her kid,” Davis said.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“So, what are we going to do now?” one of the other riders asked.
“We’re goin’ to leave the Injuns a message,” Davis said.
“Yeah, I reckon this will leave them a message.”
“No, I mean a real message. We’re goin’ to leave a note. I want the Injuns to know who done this, and why.”
“What note?”
“This note. I already got it wrote, and all we have to do is leave it pinned on ’em so’s the Injuns will find it.”
