“The white soldiers leaving my people alone is a satisfactory conclusion to me,” said Broken Pine. “I can tell you nothing more.”
Tyler looked like he wanted to continue arguing, but he must have been able to tell that it wasn’t going to do any good. After a moment, he sighed and nodded.
“I am very sorry this did not work out, Chief, but I will take your message to Lieutenant Davidson. Thank you for speaking with me this morning.”
Broken Pine just nodded grave acknowledgment. Tyler started to mount up again. Instead of swinging up into the saddle right away, though, Jamie said, “I’m willing to give you my word that it’s not a trick or a trap, Broken Pine.”
“I appreciate that, Jamie MacCallister, but it makes no difference. I have made up my mind.”
“All right, then.” Jamie put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself onto the big horse. He and Tyler turned their mounts and rode slowly out of the Crow village, heading back toward the army camp.
Standing beside Preacher and watching them go, Hawk said, “So it is over.”
Preacher shook his head a little and said, “I wish I believed that, Hawk. I surely do.”
CHAPTER 24
Lieutenant Davidson was waiting for Jamie and Tyler when they got back to the army camp. He was stalking back and forth, hands clasped behind him as was his habit, but he stopped short when he saw them approaching. Jamie felt the lieutenant’s intense scrutiny on them as they rode in the rest of the way.
“Well?” Davidson snapped before they even had a chance to dismount. “What did Broken Pine say?”
Jamie and Tyler swung down from their saddles and turned the mounts over to a couple of waiting troopers. Then Tyler told the increasingly impatient-looking Davidson, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Broken Pine refuses to meet with you again. He says there will be no treaty.”
Davidson stared at him for a second and then burst out, “He wants war!”
“Nope,” said Jamie. “He just wants his people to be left alone. In return for that, the Crow won’t bother any whites who venture into the region.”
“But that’s a treaty!” Davidson sounded frustrated.
Jamie shrugged. “In our eyes, maybe. But Preacher warned me about this. The Indians may agree to do something, but they don’t see any point in putting it all down on paper and then signing their names to it. They just don’t have any concept of such things. If they tell you they’ll do something, they do it. That’s the beginning and the end of it for them.”
“Alpha and Omega,” Lieutenant Tyler muttered.
Davidson’s face darkened with rage. He drew in a sharp breath and said, “I won’t be dictated to by ignorant savages.”
“Then you can go to war against them,” Jamie said. “You can attack the village and try to take Broken Pine prisoner so you can haul him back to Fort Kearny. But I don’t think that’s going to get anybody what they really want.”
Davidson glared at him for several heartbeats, then sighed and said, “Much as it pains me to admit it, MacCallister, you appear to be correct. There’s nothing we can do, then, except return to the fort and inform Captain Croxton that the mission has failed. At least it’s cost only one life so far, that of poor Private Hodgson.”
“You can look at it that way, all right,” Jamie agreed. He was relieved that Davidson seemed willing to listen to reason. He went on, “I reckon we can go ahead and tell the men to start getting ready to pull out. We can still put half a day’s travel behind us—”
“No,” Davidson said with a curt shake of his head. “We’ll allow the men and livestock the remainder of this day to rest, and then depart first thing in the morning.”
“Are you sure about that, Lieutenant?” Jamie asked, frowning. “If you’re thinking maybe Broken Pine will change his mind if you wait . . .”
“Not at all. I place no reliance at all on the intellectual capacity of a brute and a savage. If Broken Pine refuses to see the advantages of cooperating with us, I’m certain there’s no way we could change his mind.”
“No, I don’t reckon so.”
“I just prefer starting fresh in the morning, that’s all.” Davidson switched his gaze to Tyler. “You’ll see to it that the men are aware of the plan, Lieutenant?”
“Of course,” Tyler said. “For what it’s worth . . . I’m sorry.”
Davidson waved that off and said, “We did the best we could. I shall return to the fort with a clear conscience and trust that the captain will see the mission was impossible.”
The thing was, it hadn’t been impossible at all, Jamie thought. Difficult, sure, but he believed that in the end, Broken Pine might have gone along with what they wanted. Preacher probably would have helped try to convince him. The mountain man wanted peace between the Crow and the whites. He had the future of his son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren riding on it.
But then the fuss Davidson had made about Butterfly had given Broken Pine the excuse he needed to shut everything down. After that, Broken Pine hadn’t trusted Davidson, and he never would again.
Jamie and Tyler moved off and left Davidson standing there, peering off into the distance seemingly at nothing. Tyler said quietly, “It’s got to be eating him up inside that he has to go back and tell the captain he failed.”
“Yeah, I expect so.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say the lieutenant might be up to something.”
“What could he possibly be ‘up to’, as you put it, Mr. MacCallister?”
“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “And that’s what’s got me worried.”
* * *
It didn’t take long for word to get around camp that the troop would be pulling out for Fort Kearny in the morning. Some of the dragoons seemed disappointed that they would be returning without achieving their objective, but most didn’t seem to care. Their job was to follow orders, not worry about everything behind those orders.
Jamie told Lieutenant Tyler he was going to ride back over to the Crow village.
“I thought you don’t believe that Broken Pine will change his mind,” the lieutenant said.
“I don’t. I just want to go and visit a little more with Preacher. It’s been quite a while since he and I ran into each other, and who knows how many more years will go by before it happens again. If it ever does. There’s no telling how long either of us will live.”
“I don’t know,” Tyler said, smiling. “When I look at the two of you together, you seem sort of . . . I don’t know. Invincible, somehow. Immortal.”
“Nobody lives forever,” Jamie said. “I’ve heard folks say you should live each day like it’s your last, and I don’t think you can do that, either. You’d go loco pretty quick-like if you really tried to. But it doesn’t hurt to keep in mind that one of these days—and nobody knows when—you’re going to run out of time, so it’s best to use what you’ve got wisely.”
Tyler nodded and said, “I’ll try to remember that.”
Jamie laughed, clapped a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder, and said, “On the other hand, you’re still young, so try to get some enjoyment in there, too.” He swung up into the saddle. “Like I’m going to enjoy chewin’ the fat with Preacher.”
As he rode toward the Crow village, Jamie spotted two warriors on top of a nearby hill. They weren’t trying to hide, exactly, but they weren’t doing anything to draw attention to themselves, either. Jamie was pretty sure Broken Pine had posted them there to keep an eye on the soldiers. The Crow had been expecting him and Tyler when they rode in on the previous visit, so he’d known then there were watchers and wouldn’t have expected any less.
Would they warn the village that he was headed that way now, he wondered, or did they consider him harmless since he was Preacher’s friend and didn’t have any of the troops with him this time?
No one paid much attention to him when he rode in except kids and dogs, so he assumed the Crow no longer regarded him as a threat.
He spotted Preacher standing near the river with a boy Jamie recognized as Hawk’s son. Jamie turned his horse in that direction and rode up to them.
The youngster was practicing throwing a tomahawk at a tree. The boy wasn’t bad at it, either, Jamie noted. A few of the throws landed wrong, handle-first so that the tomahawk bounced off the trunk, but most times, it revolved properly and thunked! into the tree with enough force for the head to lodge in the wood.
Preacher raised a hand in greeting as Jamie reined in.
“Eagle Feather’s showin’ me how good he is with a tomahawk,” Preacher said. “And I’m givin’ him a few tips, too. Nobody’s ever so good at somethin’ that he can’t ever get any better.”
“That’s the truth,” Jamie said as he dismounted.
Eagle Feather retrieved the tomahawk from the tree and hurried back over to the two frontiersmen. He asked in good English, “Do you know how to throw a tomahawk, Mr. Jamie?”
“Probably not as good as your grandpa here does, but I’ve been known to fling a few,” Jamie answered with a grin.
Eagle Feather wordlessly extended the ’hawk to him.
“All right,” Jamie said. He took the tomahawk, weighed it in his hand for a moment to get the balance of it, and then faced the tree with his feet square and spread slightly. He held the tomahawk in front of him, and suddenly his arm snapped back and then forward, almost faster than the eye could follow. He didn’t seem to put much effort into the throw, but after making one perfect revolution, the tomahawk struck the tree and embedded itself deeply in the trunk. The way the handle quivered slightly demonstrated just how much power really had been packed into the throw.
Eagle Feather’s eyes were big as he looked at the tomahawk. He ran to the tree and grabbed the handle, but as he tried to pull it free, he failed.
“It’s stuck too deep and tight!” he exclaimed. “I can’t get it out!”
Preacher chuckled as he joined his grandson. He took hold of the tomahawk and wrenched it loose. Then he handed the weapon back to the boy and said, “Mr. Jamie’s a mite better’n he lets on, I reckon. I’d hate to get in a tomahawk-chunkin’ contest with him.”
“Me, too!” Eagle Feather said.
“Why don’t you run on now and let us old fellas talk? I’ll see you later.”
Eagle Feather was reluctant to leave, but he was also obedient. He called, “Goodbye, Mr. Jamie,” and ran off toward his family’s lodge.
“Seems like a good boy,” Jamie commented as he nodded after Eagle Feather.
“He is,” Preacher agreed. “And his sister’s a mighty fine little girl, if a bit shy. Nothin’ wrong with that, though. Hawk and Butterfly have done a good job raisin’ ’em, although those kids were pretty good to start with, I expect.”
“They’ve got your blood in them.”
“That they do.” Preacher turned a more serious gaze on his old friend. “I hope you ain’t bringin’ bad news.”
Jamie shook his head. “Nope. Lieutenant Davidson’s going to accept Broken Pine’s decision and head on back to the fort without him, first thing tomorrow morning.”
Preacher was silent for several long seconds, then said, “Huh. That ain’t what I was expectin’.”
“Nor me, either. He looked pretty dispirited when I rode out a while ago, like he was finally forced to realize that he can’t always just bull his way ahead and get what he wants in life.”
“He didn’t send you over here?”
“Not at all. I didn’t even tell him I was coming, in fact. It’s not really any of his business what I do, as long as I’m there in the morning when the troop pulls out.”
Preacher nodded and said, “It’s sure been good seein’ you again, Jamie. We don’t run into each other near often enough. Just wish we hadn’t been on opposite sides, there at the first.”
“How’s Swift Water doing?”
“He’ll be all right,” said the mountain man. “Those bullet holes will probably ache a mite when it rains, but he can live with that. How about the trooper I creased?”
“Same for Private Jenkins,” Jamie said. “He ought to make a full recovery.”
“Then it could have been a lot worse.”
“A lot,” Jamie agreed.
Preacher clapped a hand on the big frontiersman’s shoulder and said, “So, you just came over here to visit.”
“That’s right. Since we don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”
“Then come on over to Hawk’s lodge with me. We’ll sit down, smoke a pipe, and swap a few lies.”
That sounded like a mighty good plan to Jamie.
* * *
Late that afternoon, Jamie said his farewells to Preacher before heading back to the army camp. The two men pounded each other on the back with enough force to stagger most men, if not crack a rib or two. Jamie had already shaken hands with Hawk, hugged Butterfly, and ruffled the hair of Eagle Feather and Bright Moon.
Now as he turned toward his horse, a huge figure loomed up to block his path.
“Jamie MacCallister,” Big Thunder rumbled, “we did not fight!”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that, Big Thunder,” Jamie replied. “But we just never got around to it, and now there’s not time.”
“There is time. We can still fight now.” Big Thunder assumed an aggressive stance, spreading his feet and planting them, leaning forward slightly from the waist, raising his ham-like hands and crooking the fingers a little, ready to grab and throw.
Preacher stepped forward and said, “Hold on, Big Thunder. Jamie’s got to leave tomorrow and head on back down to that fort where the soldiers came from. With him havin’ to spend that much time in the saddle, you don’t want him all bruised and banged up. That’d be plumb uncomfortable.”
Big Thunder frowned. “But he is big, big enough to give Big Thunder a good fight!”
“Next time,” Jamie promised as he clapped a hand on Big Thunder’s upper arm. “Now that I know where to find this village where so many friends live, I’ll be sure to come back.”
“When?”
“Well, I don’t know, Big Thunder, but I look forward to you and me having a good tussle when I do.”
Big Thunder wasn’t happy about it, but he nodded in grudging acceptance of Jamie’s answer. He said, “Do not forget!”
“I’m not likely to ever forget anything about you, Big Thunder.”
With a smile and a friendly wave for the other Crow who had gathered around, Jamie swung up into the saddle and turned his horse. Before he could ride away from the village, one of the warriors stepped forward. Jamie recognized Swift Water, the man he had wounded during the skirmish a few days earlier.
Swift Water regarded him gravely, causing Jamie to wonder if the warrior intended to start some sort of trouble. But instead, Swift Water raised his hand and held it out toward Jamie.
“Friends . . . now,” Swift Water said in halting English.
Jamie leaned down and clasped the warrior’s hand firmly.
“Friends,” he agreed.
“Just not . . . shoot Swift Water . . . anymore.”
“That’s a deal,” Jamie said, nodding. He was very glad to see that there were no hard feelings between them.
He rode away from the village without looking back.
It was dusk by the time he reached the army camp. A sentry challenged him but quickly waved him on. He rode to the temporary corral made from stakes and rope and turned his horse over to one of the troopers working as hostlers.
Then his long legs carried him to the cooking fire where men were starting to line up for supper. Corporal Mackey had a big pot of buffalo stew bubbling over the fire, as well as several Dutch ovens full of biscuits.
Lieutenant Tyler was sitting on the tailgate of Mackey’s wagon drinking a tin cup of coffee. Jamie got a cup and filled it for himself, then joined the young officer. He propped a hip against the tailgate and sipped the strong, black brew.
“How did your visit with Preacher g
o?” Tyler asked.
“Mighty good. I wouldn’t have minded spending more time with the old varmint. But we need to get back to the fort, and I suspect he’ll be moving on pretty soon himself. A fella like him never stays in one place for very long, even when he’s surrounded by friends and family.”
“Like you?”
Jamie chuckled and said, “I admit, I’m pretty fiddlefooted, but back home I’ve got a pretty wife, a passel of fine kids, and the best ranch in the territory. I’d say Preacher and I are just the opposite. I like to roam around some, but I always come home.” Jamie sipped the coffee again. “Always will.”
They waited until the crowd of hungry soldiers had thinned out some, then got bowls of stew and a couple of biscuits apiece. Not much talking went on while they ate, but as Jamie was swabbing up the last of the juices in his bowl with the final piece of biscuit, he asked, “Where’s Lieutenant Davidson?”
“In his tent. He usually takes his meals there. He’s not much of one for eating with the men.”
“Yeah, I’d noticed that. Probably tonight he feels even less like fraternizing with them.”
“Because of what happened with the mission?” Tyler nodded. “Yes, he has to be aware that all the men know we failed to carry out our orders. Honestly, I figure we’ll see as little of him as possible on the way back.”
“Yeah, he’s going to be sulled up, licking his wounded pride,” Jamie said. He looked around the camp. “Where’s O’Connor?”
A frown creased Tyler’s forehead. “I don’t know. Now that I think about it, I don’t believe I’ve seen him for the past few hours.”
“Maybe he’s with Davidson, both of them wallowing in their failures.”
Tyler shook his head and said, “I doubt it. Edgar may appreciate the sergeant supporting him—”
“Licking his boots, you mean,” said Jamie.
Without commenting on that, Tyler went on, “But he’s not really the type to commiserate with a noncommissioned officer, either.” He stood up from the tailgate. “It seems to me that something else isn’t right.”
He walked over to the fire, with Jamie trailing him curiously.
Frontier America Page 20
