Fargo was sure the Blackfeet would have killed him if the subject of the bear hadn’t come up. Lone whites who ventured into their territory were often never heard from again. He held the Sharps in the crook of his elbow as he normally would, and curled his thumb around the hammer, just in case.
The dispute ended. The three warriors came back. Red Mink didn’t appear happy.
Bird Rattler, though, placed his hand on Fargo’s shoulder and looked Fargo in the eye. “We help you, other whites not try kill us?”
“They do and they’ll answer to me,” Fargo promised.
“When kill Breaks Heads, who have hide?”
“You can keep it if it’s you who kills it,” Fargo said. “But the whites will need to show it down in town first. Then you can have it.”
“Deal,” Bird Rattler said, and held out his hand, white-fashion.
Fargo smiled and shook. “With us working together we have a good chance at killing her.”
“Maybe she kill us,” Bird Rattler said.
15
When Fargo rode out of the trees with the Blackfeet behind him, Cecelia was the first to spot them. She let out a holler and Rooster, Moose and Wendolyn grabbed their rifles and came on the run, Rooster going so far as to take aim and cock his Sharps.
“No!” Fargo commanded, drawing rein.
“What the hell? Those are Blackfeet, hoss.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
Cecelia had her own rifle and was by the lean-to, her fearstruck brood peeking past her dress. “Are there more of the savages? Do they plan to take us captive? I’ll be damned if they’ll lay a finger on me.”
“Simmer down, both of you,” Fargo said. “They’re after Brain Eater, the same as us.”
“The devil you say?” Wendy said. “I’ve heard a lot about these blighters. Can we trust them?”
“In this we can.”
“Like hell,” Rooster said. “I lost two good friends to the Blackfeet. I don’t trust them any further than I can throw a buffalo.”
“They can be of help,” Fargo insisted. He turned to Moose, who was being unusually quiet again. “What do you say?”
“I say whatever Cecelia says.”
All of them looked at her.
“Well?” Fargo prompted.
Cecelia regarded the Blackfeet as she might three rattlesnakes about to bite her. “You really reckon it would be safe?”
“I do,” Fargo said. “And remember, they have more at stake than we do.”
“How so?”
“Most of us are in it for the money,” Fargo said. “They’re in it to protect their people.”
“They have no interest in the bounty?”
“None,” Fargo confirmed.
Cecelia pursed her lips. “In that case they’re welcome to stay. But only so long as they abide by my conditions.”
“Which are?”
“They do what we say when we say it. They cook for themselves. They’re not to go near my kids, ever. And at night they don’t sleep in the lean-to. Tell them.”
“No,” Fargo said.
“Why in blazes not?”
“Where to begin?” Fargo responded, half to himself. “They’re Blackfeet warriors. We can’t tell them what to do. We can ask but whether they do it or not is up to them. They’re here after Brain Eater, not your kids. They like sleeping under the stars so I doubt they’d want to sleep in the lean-to. And since they’re helping us, we share our food.”
“Sounds to me like you’re treatin’ them the same as you treat us.”
“Smart gal.”
“But they’re
Fargo had met so many whites who had the same attitude that he supposed he shouldn’t be disappointed, but he was. “They’re people.”
“Pard, that is the stupidest thing you ever said,” Rooster spat.
“I say,” Wendolyn interjected. “All this arguing isn’t doing us any good. We need to work together.”
“I’ll work with anyone but the Blackfeet,” Rooster declared.
“Damn it, Rooster,” Fargo said.
“I’m sorry, pard. If they were Shoshones or Crows, I wouldn’t mind. You can call it wrong but I can’t help being me.”
“Will you at least not shoot them if we let them lend us a hand?”
Rooster glared at the three warriors, who were still on their horses. “I reckon I can live and let live just this once. But only for you, you hear? Were it up to me they’d be dead already.”
“Cecelia?”
“If you vouch for them I’ll go along with it too,” she said with obvious reluctance. “But understand me. They do anythin’ I don’t like, anythin’ at all, they’ll be gone or they’ll be dead.”
Fargo sighed and walked over to the Blackfeet. “You heard?”
“Me hear,” Bird Rattler said.
“There’s a lot of hate going around,” Fargo said. “On both sides.”
Bird Rattler ran a hand over his mount’s mane. “When I young, I think hate good. More winters I live, not like hate so much.”
“Stay away from the old one,” Fargo advised. “He hates the most.”
“It not old man worry me,” Bird Rattler said. “It bear.”
The tension was thick enough to cut with a blunt knife.
Bird Rattler and his companions made camp near the stream. By coincidence it was at the spot where Fargo and his companions usually took their horses to drink. That afternoon, Rooster took them to a different spot.
In the evening Fargo called them all together. The whites sat on one side of the fire, the Blackfeet on the other.
“If we are going to make this work,” Fargo began, “we need a plan.” He explained to Bird Rattler that they had hoped to lure the she-bear in close enough to shoot but so far she had only come once, and at night, and they didn’t get the chance. He also mentioned that the male bear had been with her.
“Bears much hard kill.”
“What was your plan?” Fargo asked him.
“Find tracks. Follow tracks. Find bear. Kill bear.”
“Except bears don’t always leave tracks, do they, redskin?” Rooster said sarcastically.
“No, white skin,” Bird Rattler said. “They not.”
“Using ourselves as bait hasn’t worked either,” Fargo said. “We need something better.”
“Like what?” Rooster said. “Bears think with their stomachs. All they care about is food. If our horses and us ain’t enough, what else can we use?”
“How about a deer?” Moose said. “We can kill one and rig it over the fire. Maybe the smell of roast meat will bring Brain Eater in again.”
Fargo had a thought. “We can go that one better. We’ll shoot a deer and bring it here to bleed out.”
“What’ll that do?”
Rooster grinned and snapped his fingers. “I get it, hoss. It’s the blood. Grizzlies can smell blood from a mile
