But no matter what he said, he couldn't soothe the girl's agitation. She felt she would lose him, and that was that. She offered her body-it was all she knew to do. Something in the manner of the offer saddened him, though he accepted it. In their embraces she seemed to feel, for a moment, that he loved her; yet soon afterward she would grow sad again.
'You're worrying yourself into a sweat for nothing,' he said. 'Clara's husband will probably live to be ninety-six, and anyway she and I probably ain't got no use for one another now. I ain't got the energy for Clara. I doubt I ever did.'
At night, when she finally slept, he would sit in the tent, pondering it all. He could see the campfire. Whatever boys weren't night herding would be standing around it, swapping jokes. Probably all of them envied him, for he had a woman and they didn't. He envied them back, for they were carefree and he wasn't. Once started, love couldn't easily be stopped. He had started it with Lorie, and it might never be stopped. He would be lucky to get again such easy pleasures as the men enjoyed, sitting around a campfire swapping jokes. Though he felt deeply fond of Lorena, he could also feel a yearning to be loose again and have nothing to do but win at cards.
The next morning he left Lorena for a bit and fell in with Deets.
'Deets, have you ever spent much time wanting what you know you can't have?' he asked, figuring to get the conversation off to a brisk start.
''Spect I've had a good life,' Deets said. 'Captain paid me a fair wage. Ain't been sick but twice, and one time was when I got shot over by the river.'
'That ain't an answer to the question I asked,' Augustus said.
'Wantin' takes too much time,' Deets said. 'I'd rather be working.'
'Yes, but what would you have, if you could have what you really want, right now?'
Deets trotted along for a bit before he answered. 'Be back on the river,' he said.
'Hell, the Rio Grande ain't the only river,' Augustus commented, but before they could continue the discussion they saw a group of riders come over a ridge, far to the north. Augustus saw at once that they were soldiers.
''I God, we've found the cavalry, at least,' he said.
There were nearly forty soldiers. The ponies in the remuda began to nicker at the sight of so many strange horses. Call and Augustus loped out and met them a half mile away, for the herd was looking restive at the sight of the riders.
The leader of the troop was a small man with a gray mustache, who wore a Captain's bars. He seemed irritated at the sight of the herd. It was soon plain that he was drunk.
Beside him rode a large man in greasy buckskins, clearly a scout. He was bearded and had a wad of tobacco in his jaw.
'I'm Captain Weaver and this is Dixon, our scout,' the Captain said. 'Where the hell do you men think you're taking these cattle?'
'We thought we were headed for Montana,' Augustus said lightly. 'Where are we, Illinois?'
Call was irritated with Gus. He would make a joke.
'No, but you'll wish you were if Red Cloud finds you,' Captain Weaver said. 'You're in the middle of an Indian war, that's where you are.'
'Why in hell would anybody think they wanted to take cattle to Montana?' Dixon, the scout, said. He had an insolent look.
'We thought it would be a good place to sit back and watch 'em shit,' Augustus said. Insolence was apt to bring out the comic in him, as Call knew too well.
'We've heard there are wonderful pastures in Montana,' Call said, hoping to correct the bad impression Gus was giving.
'There may be, but you cowpokes won't live to see them,' Dixon said.
'Oh, well,' Augustus said, 'we wasn't always cowpokes. We put in some twenty years fighting Comanches in the state of Texas. Don't these Indians up here fall off their horses like other Indians when you put a bullet or two in them?'
'Some do and some just keep coming,' Captain Weaver said. 'I didn't come over here to talk all morning. Have you men seen any sign?'
'Our scout didn't mention any,' Call said, waving to Deets.
'Oh, you've got a nigger for a scout,' Dixon said. 'No wonder you're lost.'
'We ain't lost,' Call said, annoyed suddenly, 'and that black man could track you across the coals of hell.'
'And bring you back on a pitchfork, if we asked him too,' Augustus added.
'What makes you think you can say things like that to us?' Captain Weaver said, flushing with anger.
'Ain't it still a free country?' Augustus asked. 'Who asked you to ride up and insult our scout?'
Deets came loping up and Call asked him if he had seen Indian sign.
'None between here and the river,' Deets said.
A pale-looking young lieutenant suddenly spoke up.
'I thought they went east,' he said.
'
'Maybe they went farther and faster,' Augustus said. 'Indians usually do. From the looks of those nags you're riding they could probably outrun you on foot.'
'You're a damn impertinent man,' Weaver said. 'Those Indians killed a buffalo hunter and a woman, two days ago. Three weeks ago they wiped out a family southeast of here. If you see them you'll wish you'd kept your damn beeves in Texas.'
'Let's go,' Call said, abruptly turning his horse.
'We need horses,' Captain Weaver said. 'Ours are about ridden down.'
'Ain't that what I said that you thought was so impertinent?' Augustus remarked.
'I see you've got extras,' Weaver said. 'We'll take 'em. There's a man who sells horses west of Ogallala. You can buy some more there and send the Army a bill.'
'No, thanks,' Call said. 'We like the ones we've got.'
'I wasn't asking,' Weaver said. 'I'm requisitioning your horses.'
Augustus laughed. Call didn't. He saw that the man was serious.
'We need 'em,' Dixon said. 'We've got to protect this frontier.'
Augustus laughed again. 'Who have you protected lately?' he asked. 'All you've told us about are people you didn't protect.'
'I'm tired of talking,' Weaver said. 'Go get the horses, Jim. Take a couple of men and pick out good ones.'
'You can't have any horses,' Call said. 'You have no authority to requisition stock from us.'
'By God, I'll have those horses or I'll have your hides,' Weaver said. 'Go get 'em, Jim.'
The young lieutenant looked very nervous, but he turned as if to ride over to the herd.
'Hold on, son, the argument ain't over,' Augustus said.
'You'd defy an officer of the U.S. Army?' Weaver asked.
'You're as close to that horse trader in Ogallala as we are,' Call pointed out.
'Yes, but we're going the other way,' Weaver said.
'You were headed this way when you spotted us,' Augustus said. 'When'd you change your mind?'
Dixon, the big scout, was listening to the conversation with contempt in his expression. The contempt was as much for Weaver as for them.
Captain Weaver turned to the young man. 'I gave you an order. These men are all bluff. They're just cowboys. Go get the horses.'
As the young man passed, Augustus reached down and caught his bridle.
'If you want them horses, why don't you go get 'em?' he said. 'You're the Captain.'
'I call this treason,' Weaver said. 'You men can be hung for treason.'
Call had been looking over the rest of the troop. Throughout his career in the Rangers he had been bothered by how sluggishly the cavalry performed, and the troop he saw watching the proceedings looked more sluggish than most. Half the men had gone to sleep in their saddles the moment the column stopped, and the horses all looked as if they needed a month off on good grass.
'How far is Ogallala?' Call asked.
