Once in a great while Newt dreamed that the Captain not only left, but took him with him, to the high plains that he had heard about but never seen. There was never anyone else in the dreams: just him and the Captain, horseback in a beautiful grassy country. Those were sweet dreams, but just dreams. If the Captain did leave he would probably just take Pea along, since Pea had been his corporal for so many years.
'I don't see any scalps,' Augustus said, when Call came up.
Call ignored him, leaned his rifle against the porch rail and lit a smoke.
'This would have been a good night to cross some stock,' he said.
'Cross 'em and do what with 'em?' Augustus asked. 'I ain't seen no cattle buyers yet.'
'We could actually take the cattle to them,' Call said. 'It's been done. It ain't against the law for you to work.'
'It's against my law,' Augustus said. 'Them buyers ain't nailed down. They'll show up directly. Then we'll cross the stock.'
'Captain, can I go next time?' Newt asked. 'I believe I'm getting old enough.'
Call hesitated. Pretty soon he was going to have to say yes, but he wasn't ready to just then. It wasn't really fair to the boy-he would have to learn sometime-but still Call couldn't quite say it. He had led boys as young, in his day, and seen them killed, which was why he kept putting Newt off.
'You'll get old quick if you keep sitting up all night,' he said. 'Work to do tomorrow. You best go to bed.'
The boy went at once, looking a little disappointed.
'Night, son,' Augustus said, looking at Call when he said it. Call said nothing.
'You should have let him sit,' Augustus said, a little later. 'After all, the boy's only chance for an education is listening to me talk.'
Call let that one float off. Augustus had spent a year in a college, back in Virginia somewhere, and claimed to have learned his Greek letters, plus a certain amount of Latin. He never let anyone forget it.
They could hear the piano from down at the Dry Bean. An oldtimer named Lippy Jones did all the playing. He had the same problem Sam Houston had had, which was a hole in his belly that wouldn't quite heal shut. Someone had shot Lippy with a big bore gun; instead of dying he ended up living with a leak. With a handicap like that, it was lucky he could play the piano.
Augustus got up and stretched. He took his Colt and holster off the back of the chair. So far as he was concerned the night was young. He had to step over the shoat to get off the porch.
'You oughtn't to be so stubborn about that boy, Woodrow,' he said. 'He's spent about enough of his life shoveling horseshit.'
'I'm a sight older than him and I still shovel my share of it,' Call said.
'Well, that's your choice,' Augustus said. 'It's my view that there are more fragrant ways to make a fortune. Card playing, for one. I believe I'll straggle down to that gin palace and see if I can scare up a game.'
Call was about finished with his smoke. 'I don't mind your card playin', if that's all it is,' he said.
Augustus grinned. Call never changed. 'What else would it be?' he asked.
'You never used to gamble this regular,' Call said. 'You better watch that girl.'
'Watch her for what?'
'To see she don't get you to marry her,' Call said. 'You're just enough of an old fool to do it. I won't have that girl around.'
Augustus had a good laugh. Call was given to some funny notions, but that was one of the funniest, to think that a man of his years and experience would marry a whore.
'See you for breakfast,' he said.
Call sat on the steps a little while longer, listening to the blue pigs snore.
3.
LORENA HAD NEVER LIVED in a place where it was cool-it was her one aim. It seemed to her she had learned to sweat at the same time she had learned to breathe, and she was still doing both. Of all the places she had heard men talk about, San Francisco sounded the coolest and nicest, so it was San Francisco she set her sights on.
Sometimes it seemed like slow going. She was nearly twenty-four and hadn't got a mile past Lonesome Dove, which wasn't fast progress considering that she had only been twelve when her parents got nervous about Yankees and left Mobile.
That much slow progress would have discouraged most women, but Lorena didn't allow her mind to dwell on it. She had her flat days, of course, but that was mostly because Lonesome Dove itself was so flat. She got tired of looking out the window all day and seeing nothing but brown land and gray chaparral. In the middle of the day the sun was so hot the land looked white. She could see the river from her window, and Mexico. Lippy told her she could make a fortune if she cared to establish herself in Mexico, but Lorena didn't care to. From what she could see of the country it didn't look any more interesting than Texas, and the men stunk just as bad as Texans, if not worse.
Gus McCrae claimed to have been to San Francisco, and would talk to her for hours about how blue the water was in the bay, and how the ships came in from everywhere. In the end he overtalked it, like he did everything. Once or twice Lorena felt she had a clear picture of it, listening to Gus, but by the time he finally quit talking she would have lost it and just be lying there, wishing it would cool off.
In that respect, Gus was unusual, for most men didn't talk. He would blab right up until he shoved his old carrot in, and then would be blabbing again, before it was even dry. Generous as he was by local standards-he gave her five dollars in gold every single time-Lorena still felt a little underpaid. It should have been five dollars for wetting his carrot and another five dollars for listening to all the blab. Some of it was interesting, but Lorena couldn't keep her mind on so much talk. It didn't seem to hurt Gus's feelings any. He talked just as cheerful whether she was listening or not, and he never tried to talk her into giving him two pokes for the price of one, as most of the younger men did.
It was peculiar that he was her most regular customer, because he was also her oldest. She made a point of not letting anything men did surprise her much, but secretly it did surprise her a little that a man as old as Gus would still be so partial to it. In that respect he put a lot of younger men to shame, including Mosby Marlin, who had held her up for two years over in east Texas. Compared to Gus, Mosby couldn't even be said to have a carrot, though he did have a kind of little stringy radish that he was far too proud of.
She had only been seventeen when she met Mosby, and both her parents were dead. Her pa fell out in Vicksburg, and her ma only made it to Baton Rouge, so it was Baton Rouge where she was stranded when Mosby found her. She hadn't done any sporting up to that time, though she had developed early and had even had some trouble with her own pa, though he was feverish to the point of delirium when the trouble happened. He died soon after. She knew Mosby was a drunkard from the first, but he told her he was a Southern gentleman and he had an expensive buggy and a fine pair of horses, so she believed him.
Mosby claimed that he wanted to marry her, and Lorena believed that too, and let him drag her off to a big old drafty house near a place called Gladewater. The house was huge, but it didn't even have glass in the windows or rugs or anything; they had to set smoke pots in the rooms to keep the mosquitoes from eating them alive, which the mosquitoes did anyway. Mosby had a mother and two mean sisters and no money, and no intention of marrying Lorena anyway, though he kept claiming he would for a while.
In fact, the womenfolk treated Lorena worse than they treated the nigras, and they didn't treat the nigras good. They didn't treat Mosby good, either, or one another good-about the only creatures that ever saw any kindness around that house were Mosby's hounds. Mosby assured her he'd set the hounds on her if she ever tried to run away.
It was in the nights, when Lorena had to lay there with the smoke from the smoke pots so thick she couldn't breathe, and the clouds of mosquitoes nearly as thick as the smoke, and Mosby constantly bothering her with his radish, that Lorena's spirits sunk so low she ceased to want to talk. She became a silent woman. Soon after, the sporting started, because Mosby lost so much money one night that he offered two of his friends a poke in exchange for his debt. Lorena was so surprised that she didn't have time to arm herself, and the men had their way, but the next morning when the two were gone she went at Mosby with his own quirt and cut his face so badly they
