Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6

by Bernard Schaffer

  "Never better," Haienwa'tha said weakly.

  "Liar."

  "I need to tell you something."

  "No, you listen to me," Thathanka-Ska said. "You were wrong about the vision. You were wrong about everything."

  "I know," Haienwa'tha said. "That is what I was going to say. I was wrong and I failed you. Failed all of you, and now the tribe is doomed because of it."

  "Be quiet," Thathanka-Ska said dismissively. "What I mean is, you were wrong about me not believing. I've been thinking about it and I was never the one who did not believe. It was you who did not believe and I was the one who had to come with you to make you finally see it."

  "See what?" Haienwa'tha said.

  "It's you. You are the leader we've been looking for. I've always believed that."

  "You are insane."

  "And you are the Chief. You be big Chief," Thathanka-Ska said with a laugh. He cocked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "We can talk more later. There are others who want to see you."

  Haienwa'tha sat up on his elbow and winced at the pain in his side. A young girl and boy carried in a small tray of freshly made frybread. They set it beside him, bowed nervously, then turned and ran away.

  One of the women from inside the dwelling came in next, carrying a blanket. Her face was red and peeling from burns she'd received in the fire, but she smiled at him and laid the blanket at his side. He thanked her and she lowered her head and said, "Bless you."

  There was another child waiting at the tent flap to come in, eyeing him eagerly. She was holding a necklace of polished stones. Haienwa'tha looked up at his brother and said, "How many more are there?"

  "All of them," Thathanka-Ska said.

  "All?" he whispered. He bent forward to look through the tent flaps and saw the women of the Hopituh Shi-nu-mi lined up outside of it, all of them carrying some sort of gift. Even old Hehewuti was there.

  ***

  The old man shoveled the toe of his boot under a large rock like he meant to unseat the thing and send it rolling out of his way. "We need to go after him."

  "In the morning," Jem said. "We can track him better during the daylight anyway. He left all sorts of sign to cut."

  "If we lose him…after coming this far…"

  "We won't. Did you eat?"

  "Like a heathen," he said. "These women haven't had a reason to celebrate anything lately. Give them a chance to cook and I will tell what. They made me a feast."

  "Good," Jem said. "Now go find one of the lonely older ones in dire need of company and leave me alone for a little while."

  His grizzled face cracked with a smile, "You got a fresh mouth and a dirty mind, Junior. You know that?"

  "Don't mean it ain't a good idea, padre."

  Jem walked toward the fire at the center of the camp. He saw the old woman sitting at the head of her people with Squawk and the other two boys. They were speaking in Beothuk, and the old woman stopped short to look up at him as he passed. "Sorry to interrupt," Jem said. He kept moving.

  Hehewuti looked back at Haienwa'tha and said, "The wasichu was brave today."

  "Then you should honor him instead of sending him away," he said.

  Her lips flattened at his suggestion as he looked back at the white man. "Perhaps later," she said. "The old ways have deep roots in my heart and will take much to be changed. I do not say this with pride. Only as truth."

  "It was the same for many of my people as well," Haienwa'tha said. "But know this, none hate the wasichu more than Toquame Keewassee. No one teaches that they must be made war on more than he. If you embrace that hatred, you embrace what he is."

  The women surrounding him nodded. Some of them turned to watch Jem walk away. "Speaking of him, what will you do now?" Hehewuti said.

  "Come morning, El-Halcon and I will ride out to find Keewassee and put an end to him. We will avenge your men and return to our lands."

  Hehewuti looked at some of the women, then back at him. Whatever she was about to say was hard for her to force out of her mouth. Pride kept her lips shut. The younger woman to her right nodded and said, "Ask him."

  "As you can see, we have no men left," Hehewuti said. "Perhaps, if your tribe accepts you as the new Chief, and if an arrangement can be made, then we might be…"

  Haienwa'tha held up his hand and said, "You are welcome to come with us. My father always taught me that even though we are many tribes, we are one race. One nation. One people."

  The women around the fire smiled and talked to one another excitedly, and Thathanka-Ska leaned close to his brother and whispered, "That's the other part."

  "What part?"

  "Of the vision. He will lead our people out of the desert and into new lands."

  Haienwa'tha rolled his eyes and said, "You are being ridiculous."

  "But it's true!"

  "No it is not, because I am not the one who will be leading them back to our tribe. You will." He looked at Lakhpia-Sha and said, "Both of you are taking these women home at first light."

  "I thought we were going to find Keewassee!" Thathanka-Ska said.

  "No. I am going to find him. You are going home." The boy opened his mouth to protest and Haienwa'tha said, "You are the one who insisted I be Chief. This is my command. Escort the women of the Hopituh-Shi-nu-mu back and advise Mahpiya and Osceola of everything you have born witness to. They will know what to do."

  "Until you get back, you mean," Thathanka-Ska said quickly.

  "Of course," Haienwa'tha said. "That is what I meant to say."

  Chapter 20: Prayer is the Key

  Bob Ford turned over to his side to look down at the river where Ruth Pettigrew was dunking shirts in the water. She was surrounded by soap bubbles and her dress was soaked all the way through so that it stuck to her body. Bob plucked a handful of feverfew and rolled them around in his hands. He looked for more, maybe enough to make a decent bouquet. I know what you've been through, he said in his mind. I've been there, and it don't make you any less of a person. You just have to understand, it wasn't in my heart to hurt you. If I hadn't done it, it would have been one of the other ones and they would have done far worse. Can you forgive me?

  You can?

  "Them sure are some purdy flowers, Bob," Jim said. "They for me?"

  Bob smirked and tossed the flowers aside as he sat up. "That's what I do when we're not together. I pick flowers and write sonnets for you."

  "Ain't you something else?" Jim said. He looked over Bob's shoulder just as Ruth bent over to wring out one of the shirts. "I almost hate to sell 'em off. Even though the other ones went loopy, this one's a keeper. For once in their miserable lives, these boys don't smell worse than the destriers."

  "When's that?" Bob said nervously.

  "Don't you worry about that, now," Jim said. He tapped the side of his head with his finger, "The boss has it all stored away up here. The less anybody else knows, the better." He leaned down to Bob and whispered, "I'll tell you this much though, being that you're my lieutenant and all. If there's anything special you want to do with little Ruth, you best do it before the next two days. You catch my drift?"

  Bob nodded and said he did.

  Jim smiled at him, "Don't go telling nobody though. I like to keep these boys on their toes."

  "All right," Bob said. As soon as Jim left, he spun around and picked up the flowers, then grabbed broke a few more off their stems. He smoothed back his hair and checked his breath with his palm. Good enough.

  Ruth slung the rung out shirt over a tree branch and went back to the basket to fetch another. She walked it into the dank, hot water and stuffed it under the surface. When she looked up, Bob Ford was standing on the embankment looking at her. "I'm sick, Bob," she said.

  Bob had been about to raise the flowers to show her but stopped short and said, "Sorry?"

  "I said I am sick, so I can't right now. Not unless you want me to puke on you. All the other girls are sick too, so leave them alone."

  "Those other ones aren't s
ick. They're minds snapped or something."

  "What makes you think I'm any better, Bob?"

  "You don't walk around here soiling all over yourself, that's for one." She shot him a look that made Bob feel humbled. "Listen, I came for something else anyway. I been meaning to talk to you."

  She pulled the shirt out of the water and started to squeeze it. "About?"

  "I was thinking, you know, Jim's got plans for you all and they don't include you staying here."

  "What, you mean I have to give up the glory of cooking for all you, whoring for you, and cleaning up all the mess? Whatever shall I do?"

  "I meant that maybe you and me could…"

  She looked at the flowers in his hand and his bright red face and laughed suddenly. "You don't mean the two of us, right?"

  "I do."

  She dropped the shirt in the water and came up on the beach, hiking her skirt up as she closed in on him. She came within inches of him and said, "You forced yourself on me, Bob. You treated me like a piece of meat and stood by while all your friends did the same. Don't you ever fool yourself into thinking I could ever feel anything but pure hatred for you and your kind."

  "I never hurt you, Miss Ruth," Bob whispered.

  "Get away from me," she said. When Bob didn't move, she screamed it louder and beat him back with her fists, "Get away from me!"

  "Hey!" Jim called out from above the embankment. "What you getting the help all stirred up for? Is it romance time already?" he said with a sharp smile.

  Bob looked back at Ruth as she spun on her heels and returned to the water. He set the flowers down on the beach and walked back up toward the camp. She's just short-tempered cause she's sick, he thought. The Ruth in his mind picked up the flowers when no one was looking and hid them away, a respite from all the ugliness surrounding them. That's what we are to one another, he thought. An island in a raging sea.

  He suddenly wanted to write that down, but as he walked over to his bedroll to grab a pencil, one of the men shouted, "We've got company."

  Gentleman Jim hopped on one foot as he tried to slide on his boots. He picked up his shotgun and broke the barrels down, making sure they were loaded. "Friend or foe?" he called out.

  "It's the itjin."

  "How many of them?"

  "Just one," the man said.

  Jim whistled in surprise. "What the hell could he want?" He waved at his men and said, "Get up. Take a position and get under something. Last thing we need is a thousand arrows falling on us out of the sky." He turned to look at Bob, "Get your guns on. You're coming with me."

  Bob was bent over his bag, still rifling through it. "Hang on a second, Jim. I need to write something down real quick."

  Jim kicked Bob so hard in the rear end it sent the man face first into the dirt. "Get up, you goddamn sissy. Strap on them guns and let's go."

  Bob looked up from the grass to see Ruth staring at him. He got up as quick as he could and snatched up his gunbelt, buckling it as he walked.

  Toquame Keewassee rode into the camp by himself. His hair was washed and freshly braided. He put on his breastplate of hairpipe beads and long werja fangs. In his lap, the blanket his mother had sewn for him while she was still carrying him in her stomach. He reached behind the breastplate to feel the bone handle of his long knife. Its leather sheath was sewn into the back of the plate. He carried one of the wasichu's heavy rifles in one hand and he held it in the air when he stopped his destrier at the camp's entrance.

  Gentleman Jim stepped into the path and smiled up at him, "Well, well. Look who showed up, and all alone, I might add. Uninvited, I might also add, but what's company between old friends?"

  Keewassee lowered the new rifle at Jim's face and pulled the trigger. The digital screen flared red and the weapon whined and beeped in protest. Keewassee squinted at the bandit and said, "You did not even flinch. You knew it would not work. You gave me worthless weapons."

  "On the contrary. They're top of the line military weapons that are guaranteed to destroy anything you aim at, pardner. Long as you're aiming at the right thing, that is."

  "What do you mean the right thing?" Keewassee said.

  "I mean that if you want to take these big bad boom sticks into battle against all the other little brown people infesting this fine planet, you'll mop the floor with them every time." He held up his finger and pointed at himself, "But if you try to shoot it at a regular person such as myself or any of the other men here, it ain't worth diddly squat."

  The bandit looked at the Beothuk warrior and smiled broadly, showing off a wide mouthful of yellow stained teeth. "You didn't think we were gonna give you weapons to use against us, did you?"

  "It was not for you to decide how we used them!" Keewassee snarled.

  "Now, you better watch your tone with me, boy. I got twenty guns on you right now and let me assure you, all mine work just fine."

  Toquame Keewassee threw the useless rifle down on the ground. "You have betrayed me. Betrayed my people! This was to be their salvation! I gave you the women of our sacred tribes in exchange and you…you monster."

  Gentleman Jim winced at that and said, "Harsh words, my friend. Who told you to do all that? Wasn't me. You came to me asking if I wanted to buy a little squaw trim. I said sure. You asked me if I would give you weapons in exchange. I said of course. Not my fault if you weren't more specific about your intentions."

  Toquame Keewassee shook his head sadly and lowered himself form the destrier. He stroked its long snout and patted it on the side of the face. "Go," he whispered. The animal whinnied in protest, but he pushed it away so that it turned and he told it to keep going.

  "What you doing there, friend?" Jim said. "Listen, that rifle is perfectly fine so long as you use it correctly. It's worth a fortune. How about you pick it up and get on back to your little tribe?"

  The Beothuk looked down at the rifle and threw it to the ground, "I will never again touch the tools of the wasichu. They have no honor, because you have no honor."

  Jim raised his shotgun and cocked both hammers back, "Whatever you say, boy. Why don't you leave now before I change my mind and decide you can't."

  Keewassee reached up and touched the medicine bag dangling from his neck. Forgive me, he whispered. He reached under the breastplate for the knife and yanked it free, raising it high in the air as he raced toward the masked bandit.

  Jim pulled the trigger a split-second before the rest of his men opened fire. The Beothuk's body jerked uncontrollably as the volley of bullets punctured his chest and shoulders and legs and groin. Toquame Keewassee collapsed to his chest but kept his grip on his knife tight. He groaned as he slid forward, unable to move anything from the waist down. Blood spurted out of him in founts, leaving nothing but cold numbness behind. That was taking him over by the second, he thought. Soon, there will be nothing left. He lifted his head to see the grinning face of his enemy and raised the knife, showing him the edge of the blade, willing it to fly from his hand into the man's face. Praying it would happen, but nothing did.

  Gentleman Jim looked down at the itjin's blood-spattered face, checking him for signs of life. "You dead, buddy?" He bent down to Keewassee's still form and pried the weapon out of his hand. "All right, Bob, take a few men and get rid of the corpse. Make sure you burn him where we won't smell it."

  Jim was playing with the knife as he walked past Bob, and Bob said, "Looks fancy. Can I see it?"

  "Get your work done," Jim said, and kept walking.

  ***

  "You ready to go, old man?"

  "Almost," Father Charles said. He reached around his destrier's neck and started to unlock the heavy harness attaching it to the wagon. "Help me get the rest of this rig off him."

  "Why are we unrigging the cannon?" Jem said.

  "Because we ain't bringing it."

  Jem looked at him sideways, "What are you, nuts? This thing saved our hides. It's a goddamn weapon of mass destruction."

  "That's right," the preacher said. "And
that's exactly why I'm getting rid of it." He fit his wrench back to the harness and started twisting. "I came to find my little girl, not turn living things into red goo."

  Jem pushed his hands away from the harness and said, "You came all this way to finish the job and now that we're almost done, you want to get rid of it? Didn't you see what it did to those boys you fired on?"