several long bounds.
Evelyn could have shot him. A light squeeze of the trigger and he was dead. But she refused to take a life unless she had no recourse. The black man looked back as the underbrush swallowed him. He grinned, as if he found it amusing that she hadn’t done anything.
Dega arrived. He had seen the black man disappear into the vegetation, but he didn’t go after him. His concern was for the girl he cared for.
Evelyn dismounted and went to the bound warrior. Drawing her knife, she slashed the rope around his legs, then stepped back.
Plenty Elk had been dazed by his friend’s death. He had been dazed by the blow to his head. Now he was dazed again. He slowly sat up. “I do not know what to say.”
Evelyn had heard Arapaho spoken a few times at Bent’s Fort and elsewhere. It was unlike any other tongue. To confirm her hunch, she propped her rifle against her leg and signed, ‘Question. You Arapaho?’
There was no end to the shocks Plenty Elk was enduring. To be saved by a white woman was amazing enough. For her to know sign talk was beyond belief. He wondered if he was unconscious and dreaming. One glance at Wolf’s Tooth was enough to persuade him that it all was terribly real.
‘Question. You Arapaho?’ Evelyn signed again when she didn’t get an answer.
‘Yes.’
Waku and the rest of his family came hurrying through the trees and drew rein.
‘I called Blue Flower,’ Evelyn signed her Shoshone name. ‘Grizzly Killer my father. You know him?’
Suddenly Plenty Elk understood. Yes, he had heard of the white Shoshone. A fierce fighter, by some accounts. It was said the man had taken a Shoshone woman as his blanket warmer and her tribe had adopted him. ‘Question. Your mother Shoshone?’ He asked because the white girl did not look as if she had a drop of Indian blood in her veins.
‘Yes. My brother called Stalking Coyote. You know him?’
Plenty Elk had heard of her brother, too. Campfire stories had it that the brother was savage and had counted many coup. ‘Yes.’
Evelyn reckoned that her father’s and brother’s reputations would work in her favor. Few men would dare their wrath by harming her. ‘Question. Why your friend dead? Why black man try kill you?’
‘Scalp hunter,’ Plenty Elk signed.
Evelyn gave a start. If half the tales she’d heard about scalpers were true, her friends were in dire peril. ‘Question. How many scalp hunters? Where them now?’
Dega swung to the ground. He couldn’t talk with his fingers like they were doing. He must wait for Evelyn to tell him what was being said. In the meantime, he would show he was friendly.
Plenty Elk was about to tell her about the ordeal he had been through when the green-garbed young man with her came over and held out his hand. His natural reaction was to suspect a trick, but the man seemed sincere about helping him. He took hold and let the other pull him to his feet.
Evelyn was about to introduce Waku and his family when she realized there weren’t any signs for their names. The best she could do was point at each of them and say their names out loud.
Evelyn again asked about the scalp hunters. What she learned alarmed her. Turning to Waku, she translated, ending with, “We must leave before they get here. They won’t care that you and your family are friendly. It won’t matter that Miki is so young. All they’ll think of is how much money your hair will bring.”
Aghast, Waku nodded at his youngest. “They would kill her, too?” To slay another human being was bad enough. To kill a child was vile.
“They might.” Evelyn would have herself to blame. The scalp hunters had no idea she and Waku’s family were in the area until she went and butted in. Now the black would tell the rest and they would be after her and the Nansusequas like a pack of crazed wolves after sheep.
Plenty Elk coughed to get her attention. ‘Question. What you do?’
‘We run,’ Evelyn signed. Fly like the wind was more like it, and the sooner they started, the better.
‘You help me. I help you. I come with you. Together we fight scalp men.’
Evelyn hesitated. The Lord knew, they could use his help. But could she trust him? The Arapaho weren’t as friendly as the Shoshones. Then again, they weren’t as hostile as the Sioux. ‘We happy you want fight for us.’
First they dug a shallow grave using broken tree branches and lowered Wolf’s Tooth into the hole. They heaped dirt and branches and leaves on top to discourage scavengers.
Evelyn was grim as she climbed on the mare. They had gone from hunting buffalo to being the hunted, and it might well be that none of them would live to see the mountains ever again.
Chapter Seven
Venom was in no hurry. The two Dog Eaters who got away only thought they were safe. He would catch up to them presently and relieve them of their lives and their hair.
His company strung out behind him, Venom looked for the marks Rubicon made to guide them. At intervals the grass had been ripped out exposing the dirt. Each mark was about a yard long and half a foot wide and tapered in the direction they were to go.
Venom thought of the blood he had sucked from the scalp earlier and smacked his lips, wishing there had been more. Most folks didn’t realize how delicious blood was. Back when he did it for the first time, when he was dying of thirst on the desert, he’d never imagined how much he would like it or how addicting it could be. He hadn’t been joshing when he said that it was too bad blood wasn’t sold in bottles like whiskey and ale.
Hooves thudded and he acquired a shadow at his elbow.
“What do you want, Logan?” Of all his men, Venom trusted Logan the least. Logan was snake-mean and as shifty as desert sands on a windy day, and Venom suspected he had aspirations.
“How long do you aim to wander all over this grassland looking for redskins before we head for New Mexico?”
“As long as I want. Do you have a problem with that?”
“You’re the boss.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Damn, you are a testy bastard.” Logan laughed, but the sound rang hollow. “Have I ever complained?”
“You’re too smart to gripe to my face.”
“I wouldn’t gripe behind your back, either. If I didn’t like the way you were running this outfit, I’d say so.”
“Or try to take over.” Venom cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell difference does it make how long we take to get there?”
Logan rubbed the stubble on his chin. He looked at the clouds. Finally he said, “You remember that cantina in Santa Fe?”
“The one you spent all your time in? What about it?”
“You remember Maria?”
Venom snorted in amusement. Maria waited on the tables. She had long black hair and large moon eyes and more pounds on her than a heifer. She was so heavy she waddled when she walked. “What about her?”
“I’ve got plans for her.”
Venom scowled. “You leave her be, you hear me? Too many people would miss her. There’d be folks nosing around, wondering where she got to. I learned my lesson with that Mex in Texas. Never kill anyone who will be missed.”
“No one will ever suspect me.”
“I just said no.”
