'I should have shot him!' he said. 'By God, what does he mean, leaving me? I brought the woman, I guess I've got a right to go fetch her back.'
'You should have stuck closer,' Call remarked.
'I meant to,' Jake said guiltily. 'I only meant to stay in Austin one night. But then I got some good hands and thought I'd make it two. She could have come with me but she wouldn't. Loan me a horse, why don't you? I don't want Gus to get too much of a start.'
'He said he didn't want you,' Call said. 'You know him. If he don't want you he won't take you.'
'He wouldn't let us alone,' Jake said, as if talking to himself. 'He was always coming for breakfast.'
Then his eyes fell on Newt, who was feeling guilty enough. 'You was sent to watch her,' Jake said. 'I'd say you did a hell of a poor job.'
Newt didn't reply. It was true-he had, and it made him feel worse that Jake was the one to say it. He mounted his night horse and rode quickly out of camp. He knew he was going to cry and didn't want any of the boys to see him. Soon he did cry, so much that the tears dripped off his face and wet the cantle of his saddle.
Back in camp, Jake was still stomping around in a fury. 'That boy ain't worth his wages,' he said. 'I should have given him a lick or two.'
Call didn't like his tone. 'You sit down,' he said. 'He don't need a lick. He came back to help with the stampede, which is what he was supposed to do. Probably Blue Duck started the cattle running some way and then went and got the woman. It ain't the boy's fault.'
Then Jake spotted Po Campo, who was sitting propped against a wagon wheel, his serape wrapped around him.
'Who's this, another bandit?' Jake asked.
'No, just a cook,' Po Campo said.
'Well, you look like a bandit to me,' Jake said. 'Maybe that goddamned Indian sent you to poison us all.'
'Jake, you sit down or get out,' Call said. 'I won't hear this wild talk.'
'By God, I'll get out,' Jake said. 'Loan me a horse.'
'No, sir,' Call said. 'We need all we've got. You can buy one in Austin.'
Jake looked like he might collapse from nervousness and anger. All the boys who weren't on night guard watched him silently. The men's disrespect showed in their faces, but Jake was too disturbed to notice.
'By God, you and Gus are fine ones,' Jake said. 'I never thought to be treated this way.' He climbed on his tired horse and rode out of camp mumbling to himself.
'Jake must have got his nerves stretched,' Pea Eye said mildly.
'He won't get far on that horse,' Deets said.
'He don't need to get far,' Call said. 'I imagine he'll just sleep off the whiskey and be back in the morning.'
'You don't want me to go with Mr. Gus?' Deets asked. It was clear he was worried.
Call considered it. Deets was a fine tracker, not to mention a cool hand. He could be of some help to Gus. But the girl was none of his affair, and they needed Deets's scouting skills. Water might get scarcer and harder to find once they struck the plains.
'We don't want to lose Mr. Gus,' Deets said.
'Why, I doubt anything would happen to Gus,' Pea Eye said, surprised that anyone would think something might. Gus had always been there, the loudest person around, Pea Eye tried to imagine what might happen to him but came up with nothing-his brain made no picture of Gus in trouble.
Call agreed with him. Augustus had always proved to be a good deal more capable than most outlaws, even famous ones.
'No, you stay with us, Deets,' Call said. 'Gus likes the notion of whipping out a whole gang of outlaws all by himself.'
Deets let be, but he didn't feel easy. The fact that he had lost the track worried him. It meant the Indian was better than him. He might be better than Mr. Gus, too. The Captain always said it was better to have two men, one to look in front and one to look behind. Mr. Gus would not have anyone to look behind.
Deets worried all the next day. Augustus did not come back, and no more was seen of Jake Spoon.
49.
LORENA DIDN'T SEE the man come. She wasn't asleep, or even thinking about sleep. What she was thinking was that it was about time for Jake to show up. Much as he liked card playing, he liked his carrot better. He would be back before long.
Then, without her hearing a step or feeling any danger, Blue Duck was standing in front of her, the rifle still held in his big hand like a toy. She saw his legs and the rifle when she looked up, but a cloud had passed over the moon and she couldn't see his face-not at first.
A cold fear struck her. She knew she had been wrong not to go to the cow camp. She had even sent the boy away. She should have gone, but she had the silly notion that Jake would show up and scare the bandit off if he came back.
'Let's git,' Blue Duck said.
He had already caught her horse, without her hearing. Lorena felt so scared she was afraid she couldn't walk. She didn't want to look at the man-she might start running and then he would kill her. He had the worst voice she had ever heard. It was low, like the lowing of that bull she kept hearing at night, but there was death in it too.
She looked down for a moment at the bedding; she had been combing her hair and her little box with her comb in it was there. But the man pushed her toward the horse.
'No, thanks, we'll travel light,' he said.
She managed to mount, but her legs were shaking. She felt his hand on her ankle. He took a rawhide string and tied her ankle to her stirrup. Then he went around and tied the other ankle.
'I guess that'll hold you,' he said, and caught the packhorse.
Then they were moving, her horses snubbed to his by a short rope. To the west, where the cow camp was, she heard shouts, and the drumming sound of the cattle running. Blue Duck rode right toward the sound. In a minute they were in the running cattle; Lorena was so frightened she kept her eyes closed, but she could feel the heat of the animals' bodies. Then they were through the cattle. She looked, hoping to see Gus or one of the cowboys- anyone who might help her. But she saw no one.
When the sound of the stampede died, Lorena let go all hope. She had been stolen by a man Gus said was bad. The man put the horses into a lope, and it seemed to Lorena they were going to lope forever. Blue Duck didn't look back and didn't speak. At first she was only conscious of how scared she was, though she felt flickers of anger at Jake for letting it happen. She knew it was as much her fault as Jake's, but she soon stopped caring whose fault it was. She knew she was as good as dead, and would never get to see San Francisco, the one thing she had always looked forward to. Soon even that loss and the prospect of death ceased to mean much, she grew so tired. She had never ridden so hard. Before morning, all she could think of was stopping, although for all she knew, when they did stop something bad would happen. But in time it came to seem to be worth it just to stop.
Yet when they did stop, in the faint dawn, it was only for five minutes. They had crossed many creeks during the night. Her legs had been wet several times. In a little creek scarcely five feet wide he decided to let the horses water. He untied Lorena's ankles and nodded for her to get down. She did, and almost fell, her limbs were so weak and numb. It was dark in the little creek bed, but light on the ridge above it. As she stood by her horse, holding onto a stirrup until some feeling came back in her legs, Blue Duck opened his trousers and made water, while the horses drank.
'Get to it, if you plan to,' he said, hardly looking at her.
Lorena couldn't. She was too scared. And it didn't occur to her to drink, an omission she would soon regret. Blue Duck drank and then motioned for her to mount again. He quickly retied her ankles. They were moving again as the dawn came. At first the light made her hopeful. Jake or somebody might be riding after them. They might pass a town or a farm-somebody might see that she was being stolen.
But the country they rode through was completely empty. It was a country of rocky hills and ridges and a hot, cloudless sky. A blankness came to her, replacing her foolish hope. Blue Duck never looked back. He seemed to be
