Is-A-Man (A J.T. Edson Standalone Western)

by J. T. Edson

  Continuing to follow the pair, making skilful use of every natural feature to keep them from realizing she was on their trail, the girl found she was gradually closing the distance without any attempt on her part to do so. Unfortunately, with the sun sinking below the western horizon, the light was failing fast. Under such conditions, although a tehnap might have detected the necessary indications, she lacked the experience needed to pick out anything which would help her to ascertain the Indian’s tribe. However, as they clearly remained oblivious of her presence, she saw no reason to lengthen the gap between them. It would, she decided, make her final stalk less difficult.

  Shortly after dusk, halting the roan and packhorse, Should-Be-A-Boy sat listening for a moment. Although the arrival of darkness prevented her from being able to keep her quarry under visual observation, she was not greatly perturbed. Even if they should turn away from the direct line they had taken ever since she first learned of their presence, she did not consider there would be any danger of her losing them. Among the other subjects she had been taught to fit her for life as a warrior were ways of following enemies at night. While doing so was not easy, she felt sure the need would be fairly short in duration. If her quarry acted as she anticipated, they would soon be making camp and she did not envisage any difficulty in locating it.

  Finding she was unable to hear even distant hoof beats, Annie slipped from the saddle. Lying down, she placed an ear against the ground. For a moment, failing to detect the sounds she expected, a sensation of alarm filled her. Then she realized the slight scuffling noises carried through the soil might be the horses moving a little while being unsaddled. With relief, she told herself this suggested the two men were no longer riding through the darkness. Her next problem would be to find out where they had halted. Standing up and gazing ahead, she failed to acquire any indication. Nor was she any better informed at first when she mounted the gelding.

  Concluding she had no other choice, Should-Be-A-Boy signaled for the roan to move forward. However, she held it to a slow walk. Although she applied all her senses to seeking for anything that would help her to locate her quarry, she detected only the usual sounds of the night. Then a sudden and disturbing thought struck her. Perhaps the men had not been as unaware of her presence as their behavior had led her to assume. If such was the case, they would be lying in wait for her to come within range of their weapons. What was more, as they would be remaining still, they would have more chance of hearing her approaching than she would have of receiving any warning of their presence.

  Just as the girl was deciding the time had come for her to leave her horses and continue the advance on foot, she saw a faint red glow ahead. Instantly the misgivings which had started to plague her disappeared. It was obvious that the men had not discovered they were being followed. What was more, either because they believed they had nothing to fear or they were sufficiently lacking in the basic precautions required when riding scout in the domain of an enemy, they had made a fire. No matter which was the reason, it was giving her the information she required.

  Despite her eagerness to acquire the prestige of counting coup and gratitude of the rest of the band for having stopped two enemy scouts locating the village, Annie did not forget something else she had been taught. From the moment it was accepted that Ka-Dih intended she was raised as a tuinep’ and not a tuepet, it had been impressed upon her that a Nemenuh brave needed more than just courage to become a name-warrior. Whilst bravery was essential, except when electing to ride pukutsi, it must be tempered with discretion to achieve greatness. She remembered her tawk telling her, ‘While it is good to die for your people, there is greater credit in making an enemy die for his.’ He had also frequently asserted the most successful warrior was the one who was willing to dash straight into the attack when conditions were favorable, but was ready to employ stealth if necessary. With those precepts to guide her, bearing in mind that the odds would be against her even though she hoped to have surprise on her side, she realized that she must curb her impatience. To make her victory more certain, it was advisable to pick the most appropriate time to come upon them.

  Dismounting, Should-Be-A-Boy’s first thought was for the welfare of the roan and packhorse. Aware that it would be some time before she would be able to make use of them again, she removed their saddles so they could enjoy a roll on the grass. With the task completed, she lay down and rested while waiting to give the two men an opportunity to settle down for the night. When she considered a sufficient period had elapsed, she replaced the rigs. Knowing she could trust the gelding not to wander far even though at liberty to do so, she fastened the other horse’s lead rope to the horn of its saddle. Having taken the precaution which would allow both to graze while preventing the loaded animal from straying so that she could have it brought up when she had accomplished her mission, she completed her preparations. Donning her quiver and picking up the bow, she set off on foot to follow the guidance which was still given by the faint glow of their fire.

  Moving through the darkness, achieving a silence which would have gladdened the hearts of her grandfather and father if they had been present, the girl was delighted by what she saw when granted the first view of her quarry. Having made camp at the bottom of a small hollow with its sides coated by bushes, they lay sleeping on opposite sides of the fire. She could not locate the rifle each had been carrying, but presumed it must be hidden by the blankets in which they were wrapped. However, the pack was in plain sight and the three horses hobbled close by were of a good quality. All in all, there would be much worthwhile loot in addition to the prestige of having counted coup and taken two scalps.

  To add to Annie’s satisfaction, it was obvious that the pair believed they had nothing to fear. Although having taken the precaution of selecting a place which should have offered them protection against being seen by-a chance passer-by, they had compounded the error of having lit the fire by keeping it going when they would have been advised to let it die out. Therefore, both were illuminated as well as any stalking enemy could have wished them to be.

  Studying the scene while moving closer, taking even greater care to avoid noise, Annie decided there was only one problem to be solved. However, she did not consider it would prove insurmountable. In fact, it might even be beneficial. Using his saddle for a pillow, each man was so completely covered by his blankets that only the general shape of his body could be seen. Being wrapped in such a fashion was almost certain to restrict the speed with which he could throw them off should he be aroused by her actions.

  Wanting to be certain of being close enough to deal with the other after killing the first, the girl took no action until she arrived at the edge of the bushes. Deciding it would be unwise to go further and being at what she felt was a satisfactory range for the bow, she came to a halt. On the point of drawing back the arrow she was carrying nocked to the string, she noticed an object with which she was familiar draped across each shape and annoyance flooded through her.

  Although she did not own one as yet, Should-Be-A-Boy was familiar with the kind of fringed buckskin ‘medicine’ boot used by braves to cover their rifles when travelling and which was far more than merely decorative. The coloring and pattern of the symbols painted upon one served as a means of identification. Having received instruction in such matters, she decided from the insignia that they had been made respectively for members of the Pehnane and Temimci bands. What was more, while the saddle of the man with the Liver-Eater boot was of the kind taken from white ‘ride plenties’ by Pahuraix war parties, the other was unmistakably an excellent and costly example of Comanche manufacture.

  The significance of the conclusions Annie reached came as a bitter disappointment!

  No matter what had brought them to Pahuraix territory, there were indications which informed the girl that the Indian was Nemenuh. Even though the other was a white man, it seemed he had sufficiently close connections with the Tanima band to be displaying one of their medicine boots to give no
tice that he enjoyed their protection. Therefore, despite having made such a successful stalk, she could neither attack them nor take any of their property as loot.

  On the point of turning away in disgust, Should-Be-A-Boy threw a baleful glare at the shape beneath the Pehnane medicine boot. Deciding such a lack of precaution did not speak highly of his ability as warrior, no matter how good a saddle and horse he owned, she saw a way by which she could prevent her efforts being a complete waste of time. Although she had yet to engage upon a successful hunt for buffalo, her family were sure to give a dance to celebrate her having brought down the three pronghorns. What she decided to do would not achieve the acclaim she would have attained if the pair had been enemies, but it would gain a lesser approbation when she described its successful conclusion and the response it elicited from the pair.

  Returning the arrow to her quiver, with a gesture redolent of indignation over being prevented from attaining the higher praise she had envisaged, the girl leaned the bow against the nearest bush. Then she dropped on to her stomach and started to wriggle across the open ground. Watching the two shapes, ready to freeze into complete immobility if either showed signs of stirring, she made her way towards the Pehnane. Going by appearances, both were in a very deep sleep. There was no movement whatsoever from either. Not even the restless movements which her appearance was causing the horses to make was disturbing them.

  Arriving within touching distance of her objective, Tuinep’ came to her feet. After gazing for a moment from one to the other of the unmoving figures, she let out a hiss of disgust. Then, sucking in a deep breath to fill her lungs, she gave the loudest war whoop she could produce. Its volume shattered the silence of the night, causing the three horses to snort and show signs of alarm. However, it was the response from the blanket-covered shapes which held her full attention.

  Or rather the complete lack of response of any kind!

  Despite a noise which should have woken up anybody who was not totally deaf, neither figure made a movement!

  ‘You did that well, tuivitsi.’

  ‘Almost as well as Cuchilo could have done at that age, haints!’

  Even as Annie was on the point of bending to snatch away the blanket she had believed was covering the Indian, the sound of masculine voices came to her ears. The first speaker was employing the somewhat slow tongued dialect of the Pehnane. Despite being a white man and having used the term implying his companion was a sufficiently close friend to qualify as a blood brother, xxvii the second was almost as fluent in the accent of the Tanima band. However, both were giving their words a ventriloquial quality which prevented her from being certain of the exact position of either.

  Suddenly the full implications of what she had done struck the girl and she had never known such a sense of mortification!

  It was all Should-Be-A-Boy could do to resist an impulse to run away!

  Brought to a full awareness of her folly, Annie realized she had been too eager to count coup and gather loot. Instead of remembering her training and being on the alert for any signs of treachery, she had overlooked and failed to draw the correct conclusions out of the complete absence of any movement whatsoever from the two blanket covered shapes. Such an omission might have been excusable while she was concentrating the majority of her attention upon moving in silence down the slope. It was not after she had allowed her disappointment to lead her into what, she now realized, was a piece of folly more suited to a child first allowed to run with the other tuinep’ than one who had attained the status of tuivitsi.

  If the men had been sleeping without being disturbed by her arrival, the yell given by the girl would have woken them up and either might have shot her instinctively before she could identify herself as Nemenuh. Nor would even her father and grandfather have blamed whichever had done it for reacting in such a fashion. Rather they would have been ashamed that a member of their family, to whom they had given instruction as a warrior, was killed as the result of a stupidly ill-advised piece of behavior.

  Thirteen – What’s In Store For Us?

  Although one part of Annie Singing Bear was impelled by a desire to take flight and avoid facing the two men, the rest refused to do so. Such a craven response was not the act of a Pahuraix tuivitisi who was born of and tawk to the lance carriers, Singing Bear and Brother-To-The-Hawk. She had already brought enough shame to their name without adding more. With that in mind, being as close to tears as she had ever come since she was a baby, she made no attempt to discover whether she was correct in her estimations of where the men might be. Instead, hoping to gain some measure of forgiveness, she ran across to calm down the plunging packhorse which was showing more fright than their mounts.

  Hearing movements amongst the bushes, Annie looked around without releasing the headpiece of the horse’s hackamore. She drew some small consolation from noticing she had been very close in her estimation of where the voices had originated.

  Striding into view from the right side of the clearing, the Indian moved swiftly despite the suggestion of age given by his shoulder long white hair and leathery features. Although travel stained, his attire was that of a wealthy Comanche and the red cloth headband bore the medicine symbols of the Pehnane. A massive knife was sheathed on the left side of his weapon belt and there was a Colt Model of 1848 Dragoon revolver in an open topped holster at the right. In his hands, he held a rifle of a kind the girl had only seen once before. It was one of the wonderful ‘many shooters’ which she and every other warrior wished to obtain.

  Appearing just as quietly from the left, the white man was somewhat younger than his companion. He had a low crowned, wide brimmed tan colored hat shoved back on a head of grizzled brown hair much shorter than the girl had been told she might expect from a scout for the soldiers. xxviii What little of his face was not covered by a neatly trimmed short beard was burned a deep brown which made a contrast to his blue eyes. As Annie had guessed, apart from the Comanche moccasins and leggins he was wearing, his attire was that of a ‘ride plenty’ Texas cowhand. The most unusual item was a vest made from the black rosette-spotted yellow hide of a jaguar. Around his waist hung a gunbelt with two rosewood handled Colt Model of 1866 Army revolvers in contoured holsters and he too was carrying a repeating rifle.

  ‘You knew I was following you and what I’d do,’ Annie said, looking from the older to the younger of her intended victims and back.

  ‘We saw you a couple of times,’ the Indian replied and, although his face was impassive, there was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘When we slowed down and you didn’t catch us up, knowing what my tawk, xxix Cuchilo, would have done at your age, we guessed you’d decided to do the same. Are you the one our Pahuraix brothers call “Should-Be-A-Boy”?’

  ‘I am,’ the girl confirmed, releasing her hold on the packhorse as it had quietened down and trying to conceal her pleasure at learning her name was known to a Nemenuh from another band, particularly one of the quality she suspected the speaker to be from the reference to his connection with Cuchilo. ‘And I apologize for what 1 tried to do, Chief Long Walker of the Pehnane.’

  ‘There’s no need for that, Tuinep’,’ the elderly Comanche claimed. ‘A tuivitsi must practice stalking and other skills so as to become a tehnap.’

  ‘He must also learn not to take anything he sees for granted,’ the white man supplemented, glancing to where he and his companion had used branches and leaves to make the shapes concealed beneath the blankets in the expectation of what the girl would do.

  ‘Chaqueta-Tigre speaks truly, Tuinep’,’ declared Long Walker, once a noted lance carrier and now respected as senior ‘old man’ chief of the Pehnane band. ‘You moved well, but I wouldn’t make a habit of waking sleepers the way you tried with us, even if you know they are friends.’

  ‘I never will again,’ Annie promised and meant it, realizing her reception would have been less cordial if she had failed to respect the indications left to inform her that she was dealing with a Nemenuh and a white friend
of the Tanima band. ‘May I share my food with you?’

  ‘It will be an honor,’ Long Walker replied, guessing why the girl had been riding alone and leading the packhorse. ‘We saw your hunting had been good.’

  ‘It has,’ Should-Be-A-Boy agreed, then cupping her hands around her mouth she gave a series of piercing whistles. Having done so, she went on in the politely deferential tone of one addressing a person of importance, ‘I took three pronghorn.’

  ‘That is a worthy feat,’ the chief asserted. ‘Brother-To-The-Hawk has cause to be proud of his tawk.’

  ‘Did you train your pony too?’ the white man inquired, nodding towards where the sound of approaching hooves came from the darkness.

  ‘Yes,’ Annie admitted, but the hint of pride in her voice changed as a realization that something was very wrong struck her. ‘Only it can't be him and there’s more than just him and the packhorse coming!’

  ‘And they aren’t those you’ve been hunting with?’ Long Walker suggested.

  ‘Not from that di—!’ Should-Be-A-Boy began.

  Before the girl could finish, something which she could not understand was yelled and the hooves changed their pace from a walk to a gallop as the riders started to rush down the slope.

  ‘Back to the bushes!’ Long Walker commanded, his tone urgent.

  Although the chief and Chaqueta-Tigre darted in the direction from which the former had come, Annie did not accompany them. Instead, she turned and, despite being compelled to go towards the approaching riders, ran to collect the bow she had left behind. Before she could reach the bush against which it was resting, an Indian holding a war club and round shield similar to those used by her own people, but which bore the insignia of the Kaddo tribe, stepped into view between her and her objective. He was accompanied by another of that nation carrying a carbine of the kind she had seen brought to the village as loot taken from soldiers. Letting out a whoop of delight, the former sprang forward with the shield held so it offered protection for his head and torso. Keeping silent, the latter brought his weapon to his shoulder.