Predators and Prey

by F. M. Parker

  The Texans crossed through a projecting finger of woods, and two scores of tiny fires appeared before them on the distant prairie. They stopped and surveyed the lights, and the outline of vehicles silhouetted against them.

  “They’re the people with the handcarts,” Ash said.

  “It’s the Mormons,” Nathan agreed.

  “Now we’ll soon know if Drum told the truth and all the women are pretty,” Jake said.

  “Drum never said all of them were pretty,” Les said, correcting Jake.

  “All right. But that doesn’t matter,” Jake said. “All we need are four pretty ones.”

  The Mormon camp was quiet. The people could be seen gathered in the center of the circle of handcarts. Fragments of a man’s voice could be heard now and then.

  Nathan studied the ruddy, flickering glow of the lights. How feeble the fires seemed in the immense cave of the black night.

  A chorus of women’s voices arose, saying amens. The man must have completed a prayer. The women began to sing. Their higher pitched tones easily spanned the distance to the listening Texans. The chirp and twitter of the insects ceased, as if they felt outdone and were also listening to the women.

  Nathan leaned forward, endeavoring to catch every word and syllable of the women’s song. How brave and beautiful their voices sounded singing against the dark emptiness of the prairie. He listened to the lovely female voices down to the last vibration.

  “I hope they sing another song,” Ash said in a hushed tone.

  “Sure is more enjoyable hearing them than men’s voices,” Jake said.

  “Amen,” Les said, imitating the women’s words of concurrence of what had been said.

  The congregation in the Mormon camp dispersed, their forms passing in front of the fires like dark ghosts. The light from the fires, blocked off for brief periods, blinked on and off like distant fireflies.

  “No more songs tonight,” Les said, disappointed.

  “We’ll ride back a ways and cross to the other side of the creek and make camp,” Nathan said. “Tomorrow we’ll see how pretty the women are.”

  The Texans made a fireless camp. They did not speak as they staked out their horses.

  Nathan lay on his blanket for a long time, watching the yellow half-moon falling to the west. He and the other three travelers were reaching the end of a long journey. When this search for women ended and they rode south, would they still be lonely men?

  ***

  Nathan heard a man’s voice calling the morning wake-up at the camp of the Mormons. He pulled on his boots and stood erect. The eastern sky showed a faint graying, heralding the sun’s imminent arrival from below the horizon. The Mormons were early to rise.

  Taking his only extra shirt and trousers, Nathan walked to the creek. As he bathed, the other men came to wash themselves and don clean clothes. They were a hairy-faced, wild-looking lot. Nathan wondered if he looked as wild as the others did. What would the women think of them?

  The men ate without speaking, each pondering his private thoughts. They packed, saddled, and rode out under the blue bowl of the sky that pressed down on the prairie in all directions. They crossed the wooded creek and turned toward the camp of the Mormons.

  ***

  Caroline helped the three girls load the cart. She tried not to think of the countless steps she must make that day. Already the sun, just barely above the horizon, hit her with its heat. The day would be a scorcher. And still ahead were scores of other days and thousands of steps that must be made before she finally could rest.

  She tossed the end of the tie line across the cart, so that Sophia could use it to lash down the canvas covering the items in the bed of the handcart. Sophia ignored the line and stared out across the prairie with a surprised expression on her face.

  Caroline twisted to see four men riding toward the camp. They halted and sat with easy grace upon their big horses a few yards away. Their eyes scanned out from the shadows under the broad brims of their hats at the four young women.

  Nathan felt his breath catch as the green eyes of the nearer woman fell upon him. His heart shifted within him and began to race. His breath came again, quick and shallow. It was glorious to be a man and looking at such a beautiful woman.

  A hot blush flamed on Caroline’s cheeks. It seemed the man’s intense look had a palpable force that touched her. Her anger flared as hotly as her blush.

  “What are you staring at?” Caroline said sharply.

  Nathan jerked off his hat. He would tell the woman he meant no disrespect by looking at her. That his intentions were honorable, that he wanted only to meet her, to talk for a few minutes.

  But before he could utter a word, she spoke again. “Well, speak up. What do you want?” Caroline asked angrily.

  Nathan, stung by her tone, lashed back. “A wife. But surely not a sharp-tongued one like you.” His eyes had turned cold.

  He reined his mount away, his jaw rigid. Hell, there were bound to be more agreeable females than this one.

  The other horsemen, casting surprised and somewhat chastened glances at Caroline, moved after Nathan. They strung out, riding slowly past the women readying their handcarts for travel. One by one the men stopped to talk with a woman.

  “Caroline, why in God’s good name did you talk to that man like that?” Sophia asked. “He meant you no harm, and you scared off the others.”

  “I’m sick and tired of men looking at me like I was some cow waiting to be bred,” Caroline shot back.

  “Well, aren’t we waiting to be bred?” Sophia said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Though we would prefer to call it making love.”

  Pauliina and Ruth had come forward and stood nearby. Ruth spoke. “Sophia, you shouldn’t talk like that.”

  “Why shouldn’t she?” Pauliina asked. “It’s true.”

  Pauliina and Sophia began to laugh. Ruth watched them for a few seconds. Then she shyly joined in.

  “You’re all quite correct,” Caroline said. Suddenly she was laughing with the others.

  Nathan heard the girls laughing. They were making fun of him. He pulled away from the Mormon camp, leaving his friends behind in conversation with some of the women.

  He dismounted in the shade of a tree near the creek. He squatted on his haunches and broodingly watched as the circle of handcarts broke apart and strung out in a line two abreast. He felt only gloom at the green-eyed girl’s harsh words. Her laughter made it worse. She was a cruel person. Or had he been too direct? Had he somehow unknowingly insulted her?

  Nathan watched the procession pass, the women, actually most only older girls, toiling at the vehicles. Their heads were down as they leaned into their harnesses or pushed at the rear. A woman called out in a scolding voice for a child to keep up. Here and there a wheel made a grinding noise on its axle.

  There was a splendor in the women, in the female strength, grace and will. Nathan’s spirit rose again. Among all the women there must be one for him to take back to Texas.

  The cart of the girl who had spoken so brusquely to him rolled past. Three of the girls glanced sideways at him. But not the sharp-tongued one.

  To the north a short distance, a band of nine horsemen in buckskins came out of the trees by the creek and rode along the caravan. Several of the men spoke to certain women and tossed the ends of short ropes to them. The women made the ropes fast to the pulling bars of their carts. The men walked ahead, leading the horses towing the vehicles. Then the women joined the men and talked with them.

  Nathan was surprised at the presence of the riders. The fact that they had camped off by themselves indicated they were not part of the Mormon party. What were they doing here? Were they competitors for the women?

  Ash completed a circle of the caravan. The most lovely girls were those at the first handcart the Texans had approached. He guided his horse near Sophia. “My name’s Ash Brock,” he said. “May I look at you without you yelling at me?” He threw a meaningful glance at Caroline. “Maybe we
could even talk a little.”

  “I think I can stand that,” Sophia said with a smile. “My name is Sophia Applewhite.”

  “I’d be pleased to help you pull the cart,” Ash said.

  “That’s a kind offer,” Sophia replied. “I accept for all of us. Toss me the end of your rope.”

  “It’s called a lariat,” Ash said, uncoiling the lariat.

  “All right. Lariat.” She fastened the end to the crossbar of the handcart. “Where are you from?”

  “Texas.” Ash threw a loop of the lariat around the horn of his saddle and took up the slack.

  “How far away is that?”

  “About thirteen hundred miles to the south. I live near a town called Austin.”

  “Thirteen hundred miles,” Sophia said in amazement. “Did you come all that long distance for the same reason as your friend?”

  “Like Nathan said, we’re looking maybe to find wives.” Ash’s voice was firm and his eyes steady as he looked at Sophia.

  “Do you have to leave Texas to find wives?”

  “No. But we all thought it a good idea. We wanted some pretty ones like you.”

  “So you think some of us are pretty?”

  “Yes.” Ash looked around at the other three girls. Every one of them was watching him. He felt embarrassed, but he could not weaken now.

  “Do you expect a woman to leave and go back to this Texas with you?”

  “I might ask some special girl to do that.”

  Sophia thoughtfully studied the somber face of the Texan. Then she put her head down so he could not see her face.

  “All of us are going to Salt Lake City,” Ruth said. “We’re Mormons now.”

  “I expect each girl will make her own decision about whether or not she would go on to Salt Lake City if she’s asked to go to Texas,” Ash replied.

  Everyone became quiet. They trudged onward, the horse pulling the cart and the girls walking beside it. Ash wished Sophia would talk with him some more. Or just look at him again. Men and women did not have to talk to communicate.

  Jake rode up and fell in beside Ash. “Are any of them friendly?” Jake asked.

  “That one there on the right is,” Ash replied. “Her name’s Sophia. Try one of the others yourself.”

  “I’ll do that.” Jake slowed his horse and took station beside Pauliina.

  “Hello. I’m Jake Payne.” He looked down at the big blond girl.

  “My name is Pauliina Halverson.” She was surprised that one of the men would choose her to talk to. The man DeBreen had called her a horse. That still made her heart ache.

  “Can we talk?” Jake asked.

  “I can no talk English good,” Pauliina said.

  “I think you’ll do just fine.” Jake dismounted and fell into step beside Pauliina.

  Caroline cast a short look over the cart at Pauliina. A bright, pleased expression wreathed the face of the Swedish girl. Caroline was glad. The big Texan was a fitting match for her.

  ***

  Nathan rode to the front of the caravan to talk with Mathias Rowley. One of the men pulling a handcart had pointed the missionary out as the leader.

  DeBreen quickly galloped up and reached Mathias at the same time as Nathan. He cast an inquisitive eye at the Texan. Nathan knew the man’s sudden appearance was intentional.

  Nathan spoke to the missionary. “My name’s Nathan Tolliver. May my friends and I travel along with you for a spell?”

  “If you are going in the same direction, then I don’t see how I could stop you,” Mathias said. “Where are you from?”

  “Texas.”

  “Where are you heading?” DeBreen interjected.

  Nathan evaluated the buckskin-clad man. “Are you with these people?”

  “Yes,” DeBreen said.

  “DeBreen has been with us for two days,” Mathias said. “He has killed meat for us. Some Indians—DeBreen said they must have been Pawnee—ran off our small herd of steers.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” DeBreen said, his voice tight. “Where are you heading?”

  “Yes, I’d like to know too,” Mathias added.

  Nathan ignored DeBreen and turned to speak directly to the missionary. The Mormon was the only person who had the right to question him. “About right here where we are.”

  Mathias cocked his eye, questioning Nathan’s response. “I don’t understand.”

  “We heard there were some pretty women crossing the prairie. We came to see for ourselves.”

  “The women are Mormons. They’re not up for grabs by any Gentile who rides by,” Mathias said coldly.

  “I reckon that’d be up to the women to decide. At least those not married.”

  “You heard what Mathias said,” DeBreen said in a gruff tone. “Maybe you and your friends had better ride on.”

  “I don’t think we’ll do that.” Nathan studied the trapper closely. “My friends and I have come a long distance to talk with the pretty women.”

  “Maybe I’ll make you leave,” DeBreen said.

  Mathias watched the Texan’s face, checking to see how he would respond to DeBreen’s threat. He saw no fear, only a quick hardening of the man’s eyes.

  “Now, DeBreen, this man has a right to journey along this trail,” Mathias said quickly. He did not like the Texans being here, but he was also worried about the intentions of the trappers. Did they pose a threat? The two groups of men might balance each other and thus keep his people from possible harm.

  Nathan nodded at Mathias. “Thank you. We’ll stay out of your way.”

  He reined the gray horse back along the caravan. He felt DeBreen’s eyes on his back. The sensation was disturbing.

  Near the center of the caravan four young women labored at their cart. Nathan stopped and offered his assistance. It was readily accepted. He fastened his lariat to the vehicle. As they moved on, he talked to the pretty redheaded woman who walked nearest to him.

  29

  Caroline smeared the black grease on the left axle and wheel hub while Pauliina held up the side of the handcart. Finishing quickly, Caroline shoved the wheel back on the axle. The locknut was screwed on and tightened to hold the wheel. The two girls moved to the opposite sides of the cart and began to repeat the process.

  Caroline saw other people in the camp performing the thrice-weekly ritual of greasing the wheels of their vehicles. The task must be accomplished that day. The next day was Sunday, the Sabbath, and absolutely no work could be done on that holy day.

  Ruth knelt and cooked supper over a small fire of dry brambles she had carried from the woods along the creek west of camp. Mathias had pushed the caravan hard until almost dark to reach a stream he called Brush Creek, where there was water and fuel. Sophia was arranging the canvas and poles on the ground in preparation for raising the tent.

  The four Texans walked in between the handcarts and into the light cast by the cooking fires. Caroline saw Ash and Jake immediately turn to head toward Sophia and Pauliina. The remaining Texans separated and went off to two other groups of women. The man she had rebuffed, whose name she had learned was Nathan, began to talk with the redheaded Emily. The woman smiled most pleasantly at the Texan.

  For the first time Caroline wished she were clothed in a dress and bonnet, as were Sophia and Ruth and nearly all the other women. Still, Pauliina was wearing a man’s trousers and shirt, the same as Caroline, and Jake apparently found her attractive.

  DeBreen and three of his men came into the circle of carts. Caroline disliked the trapper leader, for she was certain he was a rogue and a scoundrel.

  DeBreen wound his way near to Mathias, who was in conversation with some of the men of the handcart company. The other trappers fanned out among the women.

  Caroline looked one last time at Nathan and then went back to greasing the wheel of the cart.

  Jake came up, spoke to Pauliina, and took the side of the cart from her hands. He held it lightly, as if it were a matchstick.

  �
�Texan, come help me set up the tent,” Sophia said to Ash.

  “That would be my pleasure, handcart woman,” Ash responded with a wide grin.

  ***

  Nathan felt at ease as he sat and talked with the redheaded Emily. Her smile was pleasant and infectious, often causing him to smile in return. Now and again she would reach out and touch his hand to emphasize what she said. Nathan found the contact stirred him in a manly way.

  One of DeBreen’s men, a sour-faced individual, came and started a conversation with one of the women in an adjacent group. Nathan noted the man’s arrival and then continued his conversation with Emily.

  He saw Jake and Ash finish helping the women rig up the tent. Then the two men and the four women began to talk by the fire.

  A whisper of sound came from beyond the circle of handcarts. Nathan came instantly to his feet, twisting to look, his hand reaching for his pistol. A figure was materializing from the night, black from black.

  A gaunt young man rode his horse into the light near Nathan. The horse halted. The man’s eyes swept over the assemblage, slowing to study each man in buckskins.

  Nathan saw the drawn, taut features of the rider. Nathan had seen that expression before—cold, hard hate.

  The horseman looked at Nathan. “Is that DeBreen over there?” He spoke in a flat, emotionless voice and nodded across the enclosed area to where DeBreen was talking with Mathias.

  “Yes,” Nathan said.

  “How long has he been here?” Sam asked.

  “I only just arrived, so I don’t know for sure. But I’ve been told he’s been here two days or so.”

  Without another word the rider swung down. He dropped the reins of the horse to ground-tie it. He loosened his pistol, in its holster on his side, and started across the camp.

  Sam walked steadily, closing the distance to his enemy by half. “Are you DeBreen?” Sam asked, his voice ringing throughout the camp.

  All the conversation ceased and the people turned to see who was calling so loudly.