Up the hill, Two Toes approached the log barrier cautiously, alert for any tricks from the white trapper. Ready to fire at the first sign of movement on Jug’s part, he paused when he saw the little trapper lying on his back, a hole in his hide coat where Bloody Hand’s shot had struck him down. Looking dazed and helpless, the little man could do nothing to defend himself. When Two Toes realized that, it brought an evil smile to his face. He reached down, picked up Jug’s rifle, and threw it out of Jug’s reach. Thinking it unnecessary to waste powder and ball, Two Toes laid his rifle aside and drew his scalping knife. Then he knelt with his knee on Jug’s stomach, causing the blood already running from the gunshot wound to increase. “This the price all you white dogs must pay when you come to trap our beaver,” he spat. He then pulled Jug’s cap off and grabbed a handful of his long gray hair, using it as a handle to yank the helpless man’s head back, exposing his neck. Jug’s eyes flickered briefly just as the Blackfoot warrior raised his arm for the fatal strike and Two Toes thought he saw the helpless man smile an instant before the lead ball from Jug’s pistol exploded under his lower jaw and tore up into his brain.
Two Toes remained kneeling on Jug’s stomach until Jug summoned enough strength to push him hard enough to cause him to fall over. Jug struggled to move then but found that he felt too helpless to. He knew the third member of the attacking party would find Willow in the tipi and there was nothing he could do to protect her. He hated that worse than the knowledge that, after the Indian had taken care of Willow, he would come to finish him off.
Bloody Hand paused with his hand on the flap of the tipi entrance when he heard the pistol shot. He released the flap and looked up the hill in time to see Two Toes keel over and fall on his side. Bloody Hand’s initial reaction was to run to his aid, but he hesitated, watching for signs that Jug was still a threat. His concern was for the possibility that Willow might take the opportunity to run if he did so. And he was still sure that she was hiding inside the tipi. So he waited and watched the bodies he could barely see behind the logs. After a short while, he decided the trapper was dead. With great anticipation, he turned back to the tipi entrance, grabbed the flap again, and flung it open. “Now, Crow dog!” He roared out triumphantly and burst through the opening to find her standing across the fire from him, an arrow notched in the bowstring, the bowstring fully drawn. “Waugh!” He cried out in surprise and tried to put his arms up in protection, but the arrow passed through to his heart. Terrified though she was, she did not hesitate, and notched another arrow immediately to drive into his chest beside the first one. She drew another arrow from the quiver hanging close to Luke’s bed and followed Bloody Hand as he staggered outside to escape the determined woman. He finally stumbled and fell outside when he was struck with a third arrow in his back. Only then, did she turn to look up the hill toward the horses, thinking Jug might be dead.
Still wary of the fearsome Blackfoot war chief, lest he suddenly jump up again to attack her, she used the bow to prod his body, harder and harder, until she satisfied herself that he was dead. She went back inside the tipi and got one more of Luke’s arrows before she walked up to the corral. With it notched on her bowstring, she cautiously approached the two bodies she could now see on the ground. Immediately alarmed when she saw Jug lying stone still, with Two Toes’ legs on top of his, she cried out, “Jug!”
She jumped, startled, when his eyes flickered open. He stared up at her for a few moments before he asked, “Is this Heaven?” He had not been sure if he was dead or alive, but he felt certain that she had been slain by Bloody Hand.
“You’re alive!” she cried then. “I thought they had killed you!”
“I weren’t sure,” he groaned painfully. “They knocked a hole in me, though.” He squinted his eyes as he tried to see her more clearly. “You ain’t dead?”
“No,” she answered. “How bad are you hurt?”
“I don’t know. My whole chest hurts. I tried to move this dead Injun offa me, and I couldn’t do it.” Still finding it difficult to understand, he said, “That other Injun went lookin’ for you. What happened to him?”
“He’s dead,” she replied.
“How’d that happen?”
“He found me,” she said.
He continued to stare at her, amazed by what she had just said. “You sure we ain’t dead?”
“I’m sure, but I not sure you not gonna be, if you don’t stop bleeding. Come, I help. We take you to tipi. I take care of your wound.” She laid her bow aside so she could use both hands to drag Two Toes out of the way.
“That’s one of them bows Luke brought back, ain’t it? Is that what you used on that other Injun?” Jug was still extremely interested to know how she had avoided being killed.
“Yes,” she answered simply as she dragged Two Toes by his ankles. “Come. Now we see can you walk.”
“I’ll sure as hell try,” he moaned, “but I ain’t fit for no foot race.” Doing his best to support most of the load, he got painfully to his feet with her help. Once he was up, he had to lean heavily on her to remain up. “I don’t feel so good,” he complained.
“You very strong,” she encouraged him. “You lean on me and we walk slow down to tipi.”
“We’re lucky it’s downhill from here,” he declared, “or I ain’t sure I could make it.” He managed to persevere, and they slowly but surely made it all the way down to the tipi. “You was gonna make sure he was dead, weren’t you?” Jug asked when he saw Bloody Hand’s body lying in front of the tipi with three arrows embedded in him.
“I make sure,” she answered. “Now, we take care of your wound.”
She helped him onto his bed and took his coat off him, as well as his shirt and antelope undershirt. After they were off, she held them up for him to see. There was a hole in the front and another in the back of each garment. “Rifle ball go in the front and out the back,” she said.
He was encouraged to hear there was no lead to be dug out of his chest, but he was surprised that the weapon had the power to go all the way through his body at that distance. “I swear, I didn’t think them trade fusils had enough power to do that.”
“I tell Luke Bloody Hand have rifle like his. Bloody Hand shoot you. I show you.” She went outside and picked up Bloody Hand’s rifle where it still lay and brought it back to show Jug.
“Well, I’ll be . . . ,” Jug started. “You’re right, that’s a Pennsylvania long rifle, all right. As close as he was, no wonder it went right through. I bled so dang much ’cause I was bleedin’ front and back.”
Willow heated up some water and cleaned the two wounds as best she could, then bandaged them, apologizing for not being able to search in the forest for some healing plants and moss to make a poultice because of the deep snow. Jug could not understand why he had so much pain in his chest when it seemed obvious the rifle ball had not struck any organs. He was not spitting up blood. In fact, after he was cleaned up, he was able to drink some coffee she made for him. He was not bleeding anywhere but at the points of entry and exit. Willow suggested that perhaps he had cracked some ribs.
* * *
It had been a busy morning, considering all that had happened before noontime. Luke followed the two Indians back to their new camp and from his observation point of earlier that morning, he saw no one else in the camp. So he decided he’d best find out where the other three Indians were, and his first concern was his camp. When he rode back down the side of the hill, he was alarmed at once to discover tracks leading up the hill next to it, tracks leading up to his camp. Afraid to imagine what might have happened if Jug and Willow were surprised by the three. He hoped and prayed Jug was on the alert.
He drove Smoke up the slope after finding three distinct trails going toward his camp. When a little less than halfway up, he saw a loose horse wandering alone. Could be a good sign or a bad sign, he thought. A little farther up, he came to the body of one of the Indians. That told him that Jug had been alert. Anxious now, he found ther
e were two paths from that point, one heading toward the corral, the other heading toward the tipi. He naturally chose to follow the path to the tipi, pressing Smoke to hurry. The first thing he saw was the body of Bloody Hand lying close to the door of the tipi. The sight of the dead Blackfoot served to calm his heartbeat, but no one inside the tipi had taken notice of his arrival. Maybe there was no one in the tipi, he thought. With his pistol ready to fire, he suddenly jerked the flap back on the door and stepped inside. Willow screamed and Jug rolled halfway out of his bed, trying to reach for his pistol.
“Luke!” Willow cried. “We no hear you.”
“That’s kinda obvious,” Luke replied, relieved to see both of them alive. “Looks like you two had a busy mornin’.”
“I reckon you could say that,” Jug said. “Sorry we ain’t had time to tidy up the campsite before you got back from wherever the hell you’ve been. Right now, Willow is gettin’ ready to fix somethin’ to eat. You’re welcome to join us.”
“I don’t know,” Luke answered in kind. “If that carcass I saw lyin’ outside is what you’re fixin’ to cook, I expect I’ll just have to get by on some elk jerky.”
Willow listened to the two men talk nonsense for as long as she thought necessary before interrupting. “I’m glad to see you okay, Luke. We have bad time here, but we okay now. Jug get shot.”
Interrupting then, Jug said, “But she doctored me up pretty good. We was damn lucky. I was able to get one of ’em before they got up the hill.” He went on to explain how he got shot and couldn’t go to defend Willow. “But she took care of business when that buck came to call.”
Luke looked toward Willow then. “Bloody Hand?”
“Yes,” she answered. “That is Bloody Hand.” She lowered her head as if ashamed.
Luke looked back at Jug then to find the cocky little man grinning broadly at him. He was obviously thinking the same thing Luke was. Luke put it into words. “That was a helluva thing you did, young lady. It took a lotta spunk to stand up to a man like Bloody Hand. When I got back here and saw those tracks leadin’ up here to our camp, I was worried sick about you and Jug. I thought the three that came up here were chasin’ me across the ridge. I didn’t know they stayed behind to attack our camp.”
“I told you she is some punkin’,” Jug said, “I seen it from the first. But what’s botherin’ me now is the fact that you just come ridin’ into camp and me and Willow didn’t even know it till you walked in the door. I’m thinkin’ it’s a mighty good thing it was you and not some more of them Blackfoot makin’ a neighborly call. And you ain’t said nothin’ yet about all that shootin’ we heard from the hill right next to this’un. Where the hell were you all mornin’?”
“I don’t think we have to worry about another attack on our camp here, at least, not from that same Blackfoot party,” Luke answered. “And I expect that’s because you and Willow . . .” He paused to rephrase. “. . . I oughta say Willow took care of their war chief. So now, by my count, there ain’t but two of ’em left, and one of them took an arrow in his side.” He shrugged and added, “Right now, we outnumber ’em.”
“How do you figure that?” Jug wanted to know. So Luke told them how everything came about, starting with his following the war party to their new camp right next to their hill. He explained what the shooting was and how it had led to a chase across a string of hills and into the mountains. His part in the morning’s doings brought a renewed air of optimism to both Jug and Willow. And Jug questioned him thoroughly on the total count of fatalities until they both agreed that the only remaining Indians were the two survivors of the fight with Luke. “And one of them is wounded,” Jug said.
“Yep,” Luke replied, “just like us. Both sides ended up with one healthy and one wounded. But we ended up with the pretty lady, so we’re the winners. Right, Willow?”
She blushed in answer. “I cook you something to eat now.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Luke said, “but before I eat, I’m gonna take care of the bodies and the horses, especially that one right outside the door. In case I’m wrong about those two Blackfoot comin’ to call, I wouldn’t want ’em to think we run a messy camp here.” He would check to make sure, but it was his thinking that those two surviving Blackfoot would start for home right away with the report of their tragic defeat at the hands of a couple of trappers. He and Jug and Willow should have little to fear from their village during the hard part of the winter. But when the thaws began and they would be on the move again, there was a better-than-average possibility a war party would come seeking vengeance for the village.
Chapter 16
“I know you’re ready for a rest, boy,” Luke told Smoke, “but I’m gonna work you a little bit more. Then I’ll let you rest.” He tied one end of his rope around Bloody Hand’s ankles and the other end around his saddle horn, then he dragged his body to the backside of the hill and dropped it in the same deep gully that held Standing Elk’s body. He collected Two Toes’ and Crazy Wolf’s bodies, as well, and dragged them to the same gully. “You boys oughta keep pretty well there till the wolves and the vultures find you.” The next thing to deal with was the issue of the two extra horses that found their way up to his and Jug’s horses. They might turn out to be a problem. He and Jug were going to have to take care of even more horses now, and that wasn’t the typical responsibility for a free trapper. He’d like to think the two of them were going to need that many horses to carry all the plews they trapped this winter, but that was not likely. It would be nice to have them to sell at rendezvous. But when the ice thawed and they could go back to trapping, they were going to be moving constantly from stream to stream in hostile territory, doing their best not to attract any attention. And that was going to be hard to do while trying to move a herd of horses at the same time. We might have to run some of these horses off, he thought, somewhat reluctantly. And with the damage they had now done to Bloody Hand’s war party, they could pretty much count on another war party coming with the sole purpose to find them. If we had any sense, we’d get to hell outta here as soon as the ice started to melt, he told himself. Get back down to Wind River. And then there was the question of Willow. That one he hadn’t figured out yet, although he knew he was planning to take her back to rendezvous with them. He was hoping the answer to that question would make itself known when they got back there—if they got back there. He was a little reluctant to admit it to himself, but he liked having her around, and he was going to miss her.
“Come eat your food,” Willow called to him when he came back to the corral.
He signaled with his hand to let her know he had heard, then he pulled Smoke’s saddle off and turned him loose before going back to the tipi. “We picked up two more horses,” he said to Jug. They just wandered on up to our horses.”
“That makes thirteen,” Jug said, shaking his head. He was obviously thinking the same thing Luke had been thinking.
“Coulda been fourteen,” Luke replied. “When I got back a while ago, I passed a gray horse wanderin’ loose about halfway up the hill. He wasn’t with the other two up at the corral.”
His comment caught Willow’s attention. “Good,” she said. “Don’t want gray horse. Better he not come here.”
Luke and Jug both looked at her in surprise. “What’s wrong with gray horses?” Jug asked, but she didn’t answer.
“Did Bloody Hand ride a gray horse?” Luke asked. She dropped her chin to her breast and nodded.
“Well, he’s ridin’ a castrated buffalo bull right through the center of Hell right about now,” Jug declared. “And I expect that gray horse is glad of it.”
“Jug’s right, Willow,” Luke said. “I know that man caused you a helluva lot of hurt, but I’d say you paid him back plus some. I expect Long Runner is mighty proud of you and he can rest easy now, knowin’ Bloody Hand can’t hurt you no more.”
She looked up at him and nodded but said nothing. His comment caused her to experience a feeling of guilt for not havi
ng mourned her husband as she should have. They had not had the time to really know each other. She told herself that was responsible for her lack of deep-felt mourning—that and the mortal danger she had suffered through until she found Luke and Jug. Long Runner was a good man and she truly felt a heavy guilt for not caring more for him. And she had been determined to develop that deep feeling for him, given time. She hoped that he knew that now.
Sensing her concern, Luke tried to apologize. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have brought up. I surely didn’t mean to make you feel sad.”
“No, no, Luke,” she quickly reassured him. “Your words were said with kindness. I not feel sad.”
Puzzled, Jug looked from one of them to the other, unable to determine what was at issue. “What did he say? He didn’t mean nothin’. He just ain’t got no manners a-tall.”
“Jug’s right,” Luke said. “I never had any manners to count for much.” Back to Jug then, he said, “There’s two things I wanna do, and the first one is I wanna scout that camp they set up right on our doorstep. I wanna find out what they’re plannin’ to do, now that there ain’t but two of ’em—one, if that one buck didn’t make it with that arrow in his side. As soon as those two are gone, and I expect they will be, I wanna dig a hole in this frozen ground to cache our plews in. I don’t wanna have to worry about losing everything we’ve already trapped, if we run into trouble with another bunch of Blackfeet.”
“Well, that sure as hell suits me,” Jug said. “But I don’t feel like I’ll be much good with a shovel for a while yet.”
“I swear,” Luke remarked, “When we decided to partner up, I wish you’da told me about your habit of gettin’ in the way of every stray shot that’s fired. I see now I shoulda asked Dan Bloodworth to partner up. I think he’da been tickled to trap with me.”
Reacting in kind to Luke’s japing, Jug replied, “You shore wouldn’ta had to ride all the way up here in Blackfoot country to get your throat cut.” Seeing the puzzled expression on Willow’s face, Jug told her, “Bloodworth’s a friend Luke made this year at rendezvous. Luke made quite an impression on him.” He paused, then added, “With a knife.”
To the River's End Page 18
