Through Darkest America

Pardo grinned at his surprise. “It’s a meat camp,” he explained. “A big one.” He squatted under a broad rock and Howie joined him. “Six, seven thousand head.” He laughed to himself in the dark. “If the wind was right, you could smell ’ern.”

Howie figured that was so. There were enough fires down there to light a town or two. “What they all doing down there?” he wanted to know.

“It’s what we come for, and where we’re going. Or where I’m going. There’s plenty of old Pardo’s friends down there… but there’s army buyers in camp, too, for a day or so. And I don’t figure it’s a good idea for Klu and Jigger to show their pretty faces just yet. Or you, either ..”

His words carried a question and Howie was glad it was dark. “You never did say why they was there,” he asked quickly. “Seems like a lot of meat just sittin’ out where nobody is.”

“You ought to get yourself something to keep in that mouth, boy,” Pardo said darkly. “It ain’t exactly sittin’… it’s meat moving, ’cept at night. Coming in from all over—bought, sold, strayed, an’ stolen—and there’ll be two, three times as many before they get out West.”

Howie looked up. “It’s going all the way West?”

“All the way. If they can,” he added wryly. “The government’s got a right many soldiers out West with bellies cryin’ for meat. Those fellers down there know it and they know the price is climbing sky high every day that passes. Only, you can bet Lathan’s boys know a big herd’s coming, too. And they ain’t going to take lightly to it getting there.”

Somehow, that startled Howie. He’d never really thought about just how far the West really was, but it had always seemed a comfortable distance away. He sure hadn’t thought about the war, or Lathan’s soldiers coming anywhere close to where he might be.

“They got plenty far to go, of course,” said Pardo. “Through the rest of Tennessee Territory, cross a corner of Old Arkansas, and on into Badlands. The government’s strong enough there, though you’ll see a raider now and then. But they don’t get in close to no stronghold town. Lathan ain’t got time or men to waste stealin’ liquor and stew- pots, which is all that’s there except troopers lickin’ their wounds.”

He shook his head, peering down at the valley lights. “Now, if Lathan wants that meat—an’ he does—he’ll have to hit it ’bout Arkansas somewhere. But he’ll have to go some to get it.” He laughed softly to himself and looked at Howie. “There’s some mean buggers down there, and more coming!”

Howie didn’t pretend to understand everything he was hearing. But that was nothing new, he thought wearily. He’d gotten in the habit of doing stuff he either didn’t like, or didn’t understand. Trailing along after Pardo, for instance. Looking at meat herds in the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure where it was he ought to be, but he was near certain it wasn’t here.

He felt, just then, like the whole dark sky was pressing right down on him. Was this what he had ahead of him, wandering around after someone else, doing things he didn’t even want to? If that’s what growing up was all about…

“Pardo,” he said suddenly. “I gotta ask something. You can answer it or not but I got to say it!”

Pardo squinted at him. “You can ask anything you like, boy. Long as you do it quiet like. Sound carries better’n you’d think… and there’s some good listeners down there.”

“I got to know, Pardo,” Howie rushed on, letting the words spill out before he got too scared to call them back. “I got to know what it is you want with me an’ what it is I’m doing here. I got nothing to do with you or Klu or Jigger or nobody. You just picked me up out of nowhere and I’m grateful for what you done… but now I’m just trailing after the three of you an’ I don’t even know what for! I know sure you aren’t letting me go off anywhere. I don’t even have to ask. Only… you keep telling me stuff that’s your business and none of mine. Things I don’t even know nothing about. Like I was—” Howie stopped; the words quit coming on their own.

Pardo studied him thoughtfully a minute. “Well, you spoke your piece, for certain.” He grinned and shook his head. “Men is all different, boy. I reckon you done found that out.”

“I guess I have, but…”

“Like there’s lots of kinds of trees and bushes, and they all do something different. Now, Klu and Jigger is made for one thing and I’m made for another. That’s not to say they don’t do what they’re good at better’n most. The thing is, I talk to Klu and Jigger about one thing and I might talk to you ’bout another.”

Howie shrugged helplessly. “Why, though? What’s that make me?”

“That’s what I’m figuring on,” Pardo told him. “You. And what kind of bush you might turn out to be.”

“I don’t see where there’s much use in that,” Howie said wearily. “Like I was saying…”

“Like I was saying, boy…” Pardo reached out and gripped his arm until it hurt. His voice was easy as rain, but his eyes said something else. “What you need to get in that head of yours is that a person don’t have to know everything at once. You reckon you can remember that?”

Howie nodded, the fingers in his arm bringing tears to his eyes.

“Fine,” said Pardo, “and it’ll also do you good if you keep in mind I ain’t forgot you still owe me a real good talkin’…about soldiers and horses? An’ names like Burt and Jaimie and what all? Don’t you never try fooling ’round with my head. You’ll sure come to grief doing it.”

Chapter Fourteen

The drive followed the river, winding down through stony canyons under the brow of thick forests. In a few days, the dark mountains gave way to rolling hills and the heavy stands of fir and pine thinned to lowland scrub.

The drivers rested easier; with open terrain ahead a man could see where he was going and who was about. A dozen armies could hide themselves in the Tennessee highlands— you could send out all the Hankers you wanted and still not be certain Lathan’s raiders weren’t grinning down at you from the next dark ridge ahead. There was still danger, and worse to come, but a man didn’t feel so bad about what he could see riding at him.

Klu, Jigger, and Howie followed the course of the drive for three days, keeping well out of sight. Then they pushed south, away from the river, making a long loop through open country to meet the drive again from the west. The morning before they let themselves be spotted by the herd’s outriders, Pardo wore a bright shell band around his hat— the signal to Klu that the way was clear. For that was Pardo’s story: his two cousins and his boy were coming up from the southwest. They’d try to find the drive and join it if they could. Howie wasn’t too happy to find a new father in Pardo, but there was nothing for that at the moment.

It was clear the man had wasted no time; Pardo had plenty of followers in camp and was liked and respected by the stock owners. His “relatives” were welcomed; signed up immediately with no questions asked. Howie didn’t think there’d have been much trouble if nobody’d ever heard of them before. The drive needed all the hands it could get, man and boy alike. And new recruits with mounts and firearms were doubly welcome.

The days grew warmer, but there was still frost on the ground at dawning and plenty of cause for a fire at night. The drive was moving quickly and the pace was hard on men and meat alike. There were no hungry bellies in the crew, though, for more stragglers died off than even hard-working drivers could eat.

Two more herds joined the next week. Pardo told Howie that, even losing what they were, it was likely the biggest drive ever—close to ten, eleven-thousand head.

At night, the camp was a small city. There were plenty of places for men to spend money they didn’t have yet—tents for gambling and playing two-stick and for drinking white corn out of clay cups. There were women, too, brought on the drive by enterprising merchants who also furnished most of the corn whiskey, and backed or broke the gambling riders.

The drive was no secret. Its presence brought visitors from every town and settlement along the way. it was a strange collection: Stolid farmers and their gaunt sons pulling wagons of vegetables and grain for sale. Merchants who knew a driver would buy most anything another man would sell. And people who were just plain curious to see a horse, or a man with a pistol in his belt. All visitors were tolerated, though every man on the drive was sure spies from Lathan’s army were openly walking about the camp counting booty to come, dividing up mounts and arms right before their eyes.