Dog with Horns shifted his attention to Broken Paw. “I would like to know whether you agree with me or with Grizzly Killer?”
“Both of you spoke well,” the chief answered. “I have not made my decision yet, but I will say I am leaning in favor of making peace. Bow Valley is a place of much good medicine. It will be good to go there again to seek knowledge of the Great Mystery.”
Suddenly Dog with Horns uttered a fierce, “Wagh!” and surged erect. With a curt gesture at the trio who had come with him, he stormed toward the entrance, shoving aside a child who accidentally blundered into his path.
“Wait!” Broken Paw shouted, rising. “Why go away mad? Sit down so we can continue to discuss this like grown men should.”
“Talk! Talk! I am tired of talk!” Dog with Horns responded. “We nearly rode our horses to death to get here before any of you left to see my brother, and for what? Even after I have made clear why the truce must not come to pass, you favor the white eyes over me!”
“Grizzly Killer is as much our brother as you are,” Broken Paw said. “We all respect him highly.”
“I see that now. And I tell you to your faces that you are making a grave mistake.” Dog with Horns glared at Nate. “Know this, trapper. You have made an enemy here this day. I refuse to sit down with the Utes, and I will do all in my power to convince my brother to do the same. You have been warned!” Wheeling, he strode out, his head held high, his fists clenched at his sides.
For the third time that evening total quiet prevailed in the lodge.
“I am sorry the feast had to end like this,” Broken Paw said at length to Nate. “Now you know why some say he is a bit hotheaded.”
“A bit?” Nate replied.
Touch the Clouds swung toward him. “What will you do now, my friend? Will you still go ahead with your plan?” he inquired earnestly.
“Yes. I just wish ...” Nate said, and broke off, unwilling to air his personal worries in public.
“What?” Touch the Clouds prompted.
Nate changed his mind. He saw no harm in baring his soul among close acquaintances. “I just wish I knew how far Dog with Horns is willing to go to stop me.”
“There is no telling,” Broken Paw said somberly. “No telling at all.”
Chapter Eight
He was called The Rattler, and he was a happy man. Happy because there was nothing The Rattler enjoyed doing more than killing. Happy because in a very short while he would kill again, with relish.
The Rattler sat astride his fine pinto on the crest of a spiny ridge overlooking the beautiful virgin country that comprised the headwater region of the Snake River, his thin lips curling in a wicked grin. This was the heartland of the Shoshones, or the Snakes as some called them, and no other Ute had ever penetrated this far into their domain. The audacity of his strategy impressed even himself.
Hoofbeats sounded. Leaping Wolf appeared alongside the pinto, commenting, “I do not like this.”
“As you have made clear fifty times since we left our village,” The Rattler said, making no attempt to conceal his disgust.
“Some of the others share my feelings.”
Twisting, The Rattler surveyed the ten warriors clustered in the clearing behind him. “Cowards,” he muttered. “I have brought cowards with me instead of fighters.”
Leaping Wolf bristled. “You have no right to call us that. Every man here has proved his courage again and again. Some of us have even counted as many coups as you.”
A heavy sigh presaged The Rattler’s response. “Are you a woman now that you snap at everything a man says? I have high regard for all of you or I would not have asked a single one of you to come along.”
“If only we had known,” Leaping Wolf said wistfully.
“What cause do you have to complain?” The Rattler demanded. “Have we lost a man yet?”
“No,” Leaping Wolf conceded. “But I have a broken nose and you have a wound in your side from the bullet that creased you.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“And Bloody Tooth never came back. Do not forget him.”
“How can I, when you remind me so often?” The Rattler replied sourly. “I always knew you were too fond of that stupid dog and you have proven me right.” He snorted. “No one gives a name to something they might one day need to eat! You should have been born a Comanche. I hear they love their dogs as much as they do their women.”
“Bloody Tooth was different than most. He was intelligent and loyal. Had it not been for him, Grizzly Killer would have slain both of us.”
At the mention of the white man The Rattler hated most, his features took on the aspect of a storm cloud. “Grizzly Killer!” he snarled. “He has been a thorn in the side of our people for far too long! Over and over we send warriors to kill him, yet each time he sends them on to the spirit world instead. How white eyes ever acquired such strong medicine I will never know!”
“Perhaps he gets his medicine from his Shoshone wife.”
“He was killing Utes before he ever brought her to his strange wood lodge. No, as much as I want to slice his hair from his head, I must admit he is an enemy a man can be proud of.”
“I still do not understand why we did not kill him when we had the chance,” Leaping Wolf mentioned. “There were just the four of them, and one a boy and another a baby. It would have been so easy.”
“Why must I explain my plan again and again?” The Rattler asked angrily. “At first I wanted him put under too. That is why I tried at his lodge and again when he came after us. But later, when I was sitting by the fire tending my wound, a better idea came to me. A brilliant idea that will not only put an end to the mighty Grizzly Killer, but will also put an end to any hope Two Owls has of making a truce with the Shoshones. Be patient. All of you. It is just as well we did not kill the white bastard, because now the Shoshones are going to do it for us.”
And with that, The Rattler threw back his head and laughed.
~*~
Nate King had only been to the headwaters of the Snake one other time, so he was not as familiar with the region as he would have liked to be. That became evident when he tried to shave a day off their travel time by taking a route he thought would be a shortcut, and instead they found themselves in a maze of narrow valleys covered with timber so thick they could barely get their horses through.
“You and your shortcuts,” Winona remarked the morning after as they strapped the last of their parfleches onto their packhorse.
“How was I to know?” Nate grumbled.
Zach, already mounted, gazed at the tangle of vegetation and commented, “It’s too bad we couldn’t have waited for Broken Paw and the rest, Pa. I bet they know this country real well.”
“I’m sure they do,” Nate said. “But we couldn’t afford to dally until they checked on that report of a Blackfoot war party being close to the village.” He made certain the lead rope was securely fastened. “We had to leave right away if we’re to reach Mighty Thunder in Sky’s village shortly after Dog with Horns does.”
“And that’s important?”
Nate nodded as he helped Winona into the saddle. She had the cradleboard snug on her back, and little Evelyn was peering out in wonder at the world. “The more time Dog with Horns has to work on his brother, the more likely he just might poison Mighty Thunder in Sky against the truce idea,” he said. Lifting an arm, he took Evelyn’s tiny fingers in his and gave them an affectionate squeeze.
“How soon, do you reckon, before Broken Paw catches up to us?”
“A few days at the most,” Nate answered, glancing around. “Why? Are you nervous about us going into Mighty Thunder in Sky’s village all by ourselves?”
“Me? I’m the son of Grizzly Killer. Nothing scares me.”
“We talked about being afraid once before, as I recollect. It’s perfectly normal,” Nate said. “The important thing is to not let your fear get the better of you.”
“So you keep telling me. But i
t’s easy for you.”
“Where did you get that crazy notion? I’ve been scared more times than you have hairs, yet not once has controlling it been easy,” Nate said.
Zach snickered. “Aww, you have not. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Moving to the stallion, Nate swung up and rested the Hawken in the crook of his left elbow. “Son, there hasn’t been a man born who hasn’t been scared at one time or another. Scared for himself whenever someone else or a wild animal tried to take his life, scared for those he loved any time danger threatened them, or just generally scared he’d live his whole life through and not amount to much.”
“I don’t understand that last part.”
“You will when you’re older,” Nate said, assuming the lead. “There’s something inside of a man that makes him want to be more than he is, makes him want to do things with his life that will count for something. Like this coon, for instance. Back when I was an accountant I always had this feeling there was something better for me somewhere, that I didn’t have to spend all my days chained to a desk. And I was right.” He admired the striking scenery all around them. “All I had to do was get off my backside and go look for it.”
For the next several hours they journeyed through some of the most rugged terrain Nate had ever encountered in all his travels. Toward noon they climbed a low knoll, and drew up in surprised relief on spying an enormous village sprawled out in front of them.
“We found it,” Zach said with less than sterling enthusiasm.
“You stick close to your ma,” Nate directed. “No matter what happens, you watch out for her and your sister.”
“What can happen, you figure?”
“There’s no telling,” Nate said. “If Dog with Horns has them all riled up, they might not take kindly to our visit.”
“Would they try to hurt us, Pa?”
“There’s no telling.”
“Once they hear who you are, they wouldn’t dare.” Nate smiled knowingly and headed down the knoll. Youngsters were naturally so trusting and kind that it seemed a shame to him they had to be disillusioned by the lessons life taught them later on. Learning that other people could be inconsiderate, ruthless, and downright evil was one of the most bitter pills any growing person had to swallow.
There was a sudden commotion in the village with much yelling and running about. Presently a score or more of riders burst from the lodges and swarmed across the intervening open space with more straggling behind.
“Stay calm,” Nate said for Zach’s benefit. “They don’t know who we are yet so they’re not taking any chances.” A handsome warrior carrying a lance was at the forefront of the braves. Nate fixed him with a friendly look and called out in his best Shoshone at the top of his lungs so they all would hear, “We come in peace to see Mighty Thunder in Sky. I am Grizzly Killer, from the village of Broken Paw.”
Immediately the leading braves slowed. The man bearing the gaily-decorated lance brought his fine sorrel right up in front of the stallion and frankly studied the newcomers for a moment. “I am Long Holy,” he declared. “I have heard of you.”
“I come to speak with Mighty Thunder in Sky about a most urgent matter,” Nate said.
“You come at a bad time.”
“Why?”
“Mighty Thunder in Sky is mourning the death of a close member of his family killed by unknown enemies.”
“I am sorry to hear of this,” Nate said sincerely. “When did it happen?”
“The bodies were found one sleep ago.” Long Holy turned his horse, held his lance above his head, and addressed the gathering braves. “These are friends. We will do our best to make them welcome.”
From the manner in which the announcement was so readily accepted, Nate gathered that Long Holy must be a warrior of some standing. While the other warriors raced back to spread the news, Long Holy escorted Nate and his family in.
“Did you see sign of any hostile war parties on your way here?”
“No,” Nate answered. “Is that how Mighty Thunder in Sky lost his relative?”
“Yes. We do not yet know which tribe they are from, but we should soon. A hundred men have been out scouring the countryside since the dead were found.”
“A hunter claimed he saw a band of Blackfeet near the village of Broken Paw shortly before we left,” Nate disclosed. “Perhaps there are more in this area.”
“If so, they will live to regret what they have done. Mighty Thunder in Sky will lead a raid into their territory himself.”
“Is he off with the others now?”
“No. He is in his lodge, taking neither food nor drink. His wives say he does not want to be disturbed by anyone for any reason and we are respecting his wishes.” The news was profoundly upsetting to Nate, since it meant a delay of days or possibly longer. And every one counted. He must get the Shoshones to Bow Valley by the Rose Moon or Two Owls might think the Shoshones had no interest in peace and give up trying to establish a truce.
Another problem was Dog with Horns. Nate was sure that the firebrand, being the high chief’s brother, would be one of the few permitted in to see him, giving Dog with Horns plenty of opportunity to denounce the peacemaking effort. By the time Nate got to present his case, the chief’s mind might already be made up.
Word that a white man was in the village had spread like a prairie fire and people were converging from all directions, the children to laugh and point and gawk, the women to stand shyly and stare, the few men still in camp to regard the family with either idle interest or noticeable suspicion.
Long Holy finally halted in front of a large lodge near the center of the village. “This is mine,” he told Nate. “You and your family are welcome to stay here for as long as you remain among us.”
“I am in your debt.”
At a shout from Long Holy a pair of women came out. They were introduced as his wives, Smoky Woman and Her Shawl, who welcomed Winona warmly and fussed over the infant. Nate and Zach stripped the horses, then took all of their gear in and piled it to one side.
“Come with me,” Long Holy said when they were done. He led them to a nearby lodge even grander than his own around which were gathered small groups of people. “You have said your business here is urgent so I will check and learn if Mighty Thunder in Sky will see you. But do not get your hopes high.” Going over to the closed flap, he called out, and a moment later an attractive woman poked her head outside. Speaking softly, they conversed, and Long Holy pointed to where Nate and Zach were waiting. The woman scrutinized them, said something, and closed the flap.
“I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Dog with Horns yet, Pa,” Zach remarked. “Do you think he’s in there right this minute?”
The thought hadn’t occurred to Nate, and he stiffened in surprise. If so, he mused, the hothead would probably try to prevail on his brother not to admit them. Nate spent several anxious minutes waiting for the woman to reappear. When she did, she only spoke a few words before vanishing once again.
“I expected this,” Long Holy said as he came over. “Mighty Thunder in Sky will not be able to see you until morning. His wife apologizes, but that is the soonest it can be arranged.” He paused. “You are fortunate he will see you at all. I have never seen a man so broken by a death.”
The remainder of the day was largely uneventful except for one episode. Nate smoked the pipe with Long Holy and several other warriors. He listened to tales of their exploits and assorted recent events of significance, and was besieged with questions about Broken Paw’s village and noteworthy incidents there. Indians enjoyed news and gossip as much as anyone, and they sat listening attentively until he happened to mention the fact Dog with Horns had stopped by for a short while. Then all four men became unaccountably solemn.
“How long ago did he leave?” Long Holy inquired.
“Eight sleeps ago,” Nate answered. “A sleep before we did.”
“How many warriors were with him?”
“Fi
fteen. Why?”
“I was afraid there might have been more.”
Nate was about to ask what Long Holy meant by that when another brave rushed in, interrupting their talk.
“Standing Bull has returned! He found the tracks of twelve horses and followed them to the barren flatland south of here where the trail disappeared.”
“How can tracks just disappear?” Long Holy responded skeptically, rising. “I must hear this from his own mouth.”
The Shoshones hurried out. Nate, curious, tagged along to where a group of thirty warriors were being badgered for information by an increasing crowd. A strapping warrior in a beaded buckskin shirt came forward to greet Long Holy.
“We tried our best. We lost them.”
“So Running Badger told me. How can this be? Little Raven was with you and he is the best tracker in the village,” Long Holy said.
Standing Bull beckoned a small brave over. “He does not understand how we lost the trail.”
“They were crafty, these devils,” Little Raven said. He was a wiry, excitable man, and he punctuated his statements with many gestures. “They tried every trick there is to confuse anyone who might follow them, yet I was able to read the sign right until we came to the flat country to the south where the ground is as hard as rock. There their tracks ended.”
“Did their horses grow wings and fly off?” Long Holy said. “I may not be as good a tracker as you are, but I know that even on the hardest of ground horses leave some sign. There should have been scratches and scrape marks to guide you.”
“Do you think I do not know that too?” Little Raven said, showing some irritation at having his competence challenged. “I looked and looked. And I tell you that there was not a single scratch anywhere.”
“We all looked,” Standing Bull said. “None of us could find so much as a partial hoofprint.”
“Mighty Thunder in Sky will be very disappointed,” Long Holy said. “How will I explain it to him?”
Having heard every word, Nate made bold to step forward and interject, “Perhaps I have an explanation.” Much to his surprise, every person within earshot turned toward him.
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