After scouring his brain for a suitable lie, the best Lester could come up with was, “Just passing through.”
“And you just happened to be following me?” Nick asked.
Although Lester managed to shake his head, he couldn’t get any words out.
“We can settle that later, I guess,” Nick said. “That is, if either of us is drawing breath once this is over.”
EIGHTEEN
The Indians surrounded Nick and Lester without once taking their eyes off of them. Their dark faces were painted sparsely with a few lines here and there. Feathers and bits of bone rattled from strings and leather straps hanging from armbands, head-bands and rifle barrels. One of the Indians barked out a few words, which fell upon at least one set of ignorant ears.
“What the hell did he just say?” Lester asked.
Nick kept his eyes locked upon the one who’d spoken as he replied, “I’m not sure. Let me try something.” With that, Nick uttered a string of syllables that only made Lester wince.
“You speak their language?” Lester asked.
“We’ll find out in a moment.”
The Indian who’d spoken was of average height and had a lean, powerful build. His face and chest were marked by a few more stripes and symbols than the other riders, whom he commanded with subtle nods or flicks of his hand. After listening to Nick, he seemed to regard him with a bit more interest.
Lester shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and grunted. “Can you get them to—”
“Shut up,” Nick snapped.
The leader of the Indians nodded and glanced away from Lester as if he didn’t mean to look at him again. Now focused completely upon Nick, he spoke in a low, steady voice.
Nick kept his face calm and his eyes leveled at the lead Indian. In some situations, his mannerisms might have seemed threatening or imposing. In this instance, however, Nick was merely giving what he was getting. He showed strength to the Indians and didn’t back away from them, but he also didn’t make a move in the wrong direction.
Although he didn’t understand every word of what the Indians’ leader said, Nick caught enough to have his initial suspicions confirmed. “They’re Sioux,” Nick said to Lester. “They live in that village and don’t like visitors racing through here on their land.”
“Don’t these Injuns know their damn place?” Lester muttered.
A few of the Indians glanced at Lester and tightened their grip on their weapons. Lester noticed this immediately and leaned back in his saddle, while his hand drifted toward the spot where his gun should have been. The fact that his gun wasn’t there didn’t seem to matter. The Indians responded by raising rifles to shoulders and drawing their arrows back, waiting for the order to attack.
Knowing he had less than a second or two to keep things from boiling over, Nick twisted around in his saddle and did the first thing he could think of. His arm snapped out like a whip, catching Lester across the upper chest. Even though he hadn’t intended on hurting the other man, Nick’s blow had enough muscle behind it to knock Lester backward until he was wobbling in the saddle.
Lester started to pull himself up again, but slipped and toppled off his horse. Landing with a solid thump, Lester’s shoulders slammed against the ground. One leg dangled away from the animal and one foot was snagged in its stirrup.
Wheezing, as most of the breath was knocked from his lungs, Lester struggled to pull his leg free, a steady stream of obscenities flowing from his mouth.
Despite the vulgarities Lester spewed, the Indians seemed anything but offended. In fact, they lowered their weapons and watched Lester’s struggle with smiles growing on their faces.
Nick took advantage of the moment by reciting one of the other Sioux phrases he’d learned throughout his years of hiding in Indian country. He knew his grammar wasn’t the best, but the effort was appreciated and the riders were more than willing to cut him a little slack.
As a show of good faith, the leader of the Sioux looked at Nick and spoke in words that both of the white men could understand.
“Leave here now and steer away from our sacred grounds.”
“No problem,” Nick said.
“Where you go from here?”
“Northeast.”
The Sioux leader looked in that direction and nodded. “Keep your friend in line and we will let you pass.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Lester watched all of this while still dangling by one leg from his stirrup. After one more tug, he managed to free his ankle so he could drop the rest of the way onto the ground. Just as he was about to get to his feet, Lester saw the Indians ride around him so they could get another look, laughing under their breaths. After satisfying their curiosity, the Indians pointed their horses back toward the village and rode away. Even though he didn’t appreciate being the butt of a joke, Lester let it pass.
Nick waited until all the Sioux had gone before climbing down from his saddle and rushing over to Lester. Extending a hand toward the fallen man, Nick said, “Sorry about that, but they would have killed us if they thought you were about to start any trouble.”
“I don’t even got a gun.”
“You were acting like you had one, and that was almost enough to get us killed. I had to let them know I was keeping you in line. Hope it didn’t hurt too bad.”
Accepting the hand Nick offered, Lester pulled himself to his feet and cautiously put his weight on the foot that had been caught up in the stirrup. “You surprised me more’n anything else,” he said, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest. “And I think I just twisted my ankle. Guess that makes me lucky.”
“That makes us both lucky. Why were you following me, anyhow?”
Lester dusted himself off as he struggled to come up with an answer. To buy an additional few seconds, he took a step and winced in pain as if his ankle was bothering him. After all of that, he replied, “I wasn’t following you.”
“Yes you were,” Nick said. “I left the trail, took a few turns after that and you were still behind me when I passed that village.”
“What I meant was I wasn’t meaning to follow YOU. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend of mine from Cheyenne and I mistook you for him.”
Nick studied Lester for a few seconds. His hand rested upon the grip of his holstered pistol and remained there as if it hadn’t decided what to do next.
Blinking as another thought hit him like a rock against the back of his head, Lester added, “My friend was coming in on a train from California. He must have gotten held up somewhere along the way. At least, I hope he wasn’t held up, but you know what I mean.”
“Actually,” Nick said, “I do know what you mean. It seems like lots of trains were getting stopped in Rock Springs.”
“Really? That must be it, then.”
Nick nodded, mulling over what he’d heard. Eventually, he took his hand away from his pistol and walked back over to Kazys. “You should probably head back the way you came so you can meet your friend. You may even want to go to Rock Springs, although I’d advise you to wait a day or two. Things should be cleared up there by then.”
Climbing into his own saddle, Lester started to speak but was cut off as pain lanced through his leg. In his haste to get onto his horse, he’d put all of his weight onto the ankle that had been snagged in the stirrup.
