From Hide and Horn (A Floating Outfit Book Number 5) (14 page)

‘
I’m
sorry
—’ Goodnight began.

‘
I
realize that it is something of an imposition, Charles. More so in
view of Vindfallet’s letter not arriving. But my professional
reputation depends on my completing this commission. So I am
determined to do so at all costs. Even if it means completing the
journey alone and with Heenan as my guide.’

‘
You don’t know what you’re saying. If
you’ve any sense, you’ll turn around and take your sister back
East.’

‘
That isn’t possible.
Barbe won’t agree. You see, I must go to
Fort Sumner and we have no
kinfolk. There is a certain man forcing his attentions on her and
if she was left alone, unprotected—you understand?’

‘
Yes.
But
—’

‘
I
don’t see why she
can’t come along. You have that young lady with you.’

‘
Dawn Sutherland was born
out here and knows what she’s
facing.’

‘
My mind is made up, Charles!’ de
Martin declared. ‘My sister and I go on, with or without you. I say
now that I understand your objections and hold you no ill will if
you refuse to take us, for you must have the best of reasons not
to. But if we try it alone and are killed, there will be those who
say you are responsible for our deaths.’

Annoyance flickered across the rancher’s face
as he thought of the position General Vindfallet had placed him in.
If the rancher refused to take the de Martins, his men would
certainly protest. Some of them might even consider the only right
response would be to escort the brother and sister. Even if
Goodnight persuaded the cowhands to change their minds, he would
have a worried, discontented crew.

Yet he could hardly take a delicate,
well-bred and beautiful city woman over the hell of the Staked
Plains. Nor, equally certain, could he turn Barbe and her brother
loose to fend for themselves. In addition to all the other hazards
on the way to Fort Sumner, Heenan would be a mighty bad choice for
a guide. Already he had spied on Barbe and apparently could not
wait to start boasting of it. At the first hint of danger, he would
probably desert the couple. Or, when certain it could be done
safely, kill the brother and do far worse to the sister.

‘
All right,’ Goodnight said grimly.
‘I’ll take you along—but on my terms.’

‘
They are?’ de Martin asked.

‘
First that you sign the same Articles
of Agreement as the rest of the crew. Second, that you and your
sister obey without question all orders given by me or my
segundo.’

‘
Accepted, and I’m sure Heenan will
agree also.’

‘
Heenan?’

‘
He’s going to Fort Sumner to enlist in
the Army for reasons I have not questioned, but seem pressing. As
he came with me instead of going north and joining an Army supply
convoy, I feel a certain responsibility for him.’

‘
He can stay,’ Goodnight
grunted.

‘
I will keep him in my employment, he
helps attend to the wagon and does other such work for
me.’

‘
Like I said,’ Goodnight answered. ‘He
can go along, as long as he signs and sticks to my
conditions.’

‘
I’m sure he will.’

‘
One more thing, Edmond.
Would you ask your sister to
wear something less—revealing. Those men
of mine have enough on their minds without … You
understand?’

‘
I do. And I’ll mention it to her in
the morning.’

‘
If you want, I’ll ask Dawn to sleep in
the wagon with your sister,’ Goodnight offered.

‘
Doesn’t she have duties with the
herd?’

‘
She rides her spell on
night herd, but I can leave her off it
.’

‘
That won’t be necessary.
We’ll be in your camp area and I’m
sure I can rely on the behavior of
your men.’

‘
You can!’ the rancher said stiffly.
‘Now, much as I hate breaking up this pleasant evening, I’ve things
to do.’

On Mark’s return from setting out the
pickets, Goodnight told him that the de Martins would be
accompanying the drive.

‘
Across
—!’ the blond giant began, then closed his mouth before
making any reference to the Staked Plains.

‘
All the way,’ agreed
Goodnight. ‘De Martin’s set on getting
there and stubborn enough to try
it with Heenan for a guide—’

The sound of approaching hooves
chopped off further conversation. From the direction they came, the
riders might be the first part of the night guard returning. Yet
they were pushing their horses at speed, and that could mean
trouble. Mark and Goodnight tens
ed slightly, hands straying gunwards. Then
they relaxed. Instead of coming straight into camp, as would be the
case if they brought bad news, the riders halted at the remuda.
Soon after, the first of them appeared. Carrying his saddle and
striding out fast, Burle Willock darted expectant glances around as
he made for his bedroll.

‘
Where’s she at?’ the
cowhand demanded. ‘We heard tell that there’s a right pretty
li
’l
city gal around here.’

‘
There for sure is,’ Jacko Lefors
informed him. ‘Ain’t she something to see, boys? Got apples on her
the size of melons and ain’t scared of showing them
around.’

Mark scowled,
realiz
ing
what had happened. Hearing about the de Martins from their reliefs,
the younger members of the first watch had made a fast ride in to
see Barbe. They had, at least, shown sufficient good sense to leave
their horses at the remuda instead of galloping straight up to the
fire. Then Mark saw the red flush on Dawn’s cheeks and moved
towards her.

‘
Some of you should wash your mouths
out with soapy water!’ the girl snorted.

‘
What’s up, Dawn gal?’
Willock sneered, grinning wolfishly. ‘Getting jealous
’cause we don’t say
things like that about you?’

‘
Anybody who did’d right soon answer to
me for it!’ Vern snapped.

‘
And I’ll be stood at his side on it,’
Narth went on.

‘
Josh, go help Heenan
there with de Martin’s horses!’ Goodnight growled before more could
be said. ‘Vern, help Rowdy check up on the ammunition. And all of
you hear me good. Those folks’re coming with us to Fort Sumner.
They’re
my
guests. I’m saying no more than that.’

It was enough apparently, for the subject of
Barbe’s attractions was dropped. Although Dawn almost mirrored
Mark’s reactions to the news, she said nothing.

‘
Mark,’ Goodnight said,
leading the way from the fire and beyond the crew’s hearing. ‘We’ll
have to do something about that girl. Those fool young hands’ll be
swarming around her
like bees to honey—Unless they figure that she’s
spoke for by you.’

‘
Spoke for?’

‘
Damn it! I shouldn’t have
to explain
that
to one of Big Ranse Counter’s sons. I want for you to make
it look like Miss Barbe and you’re real close friends. And I don’t
reckon any of them, even Austin, Vern or Willock’d be
loco
enough to lock horns
with you over her.’

A slow grin crept on to
Mark’
s face
as he considered Goodnight’s words and their implications. Since
the drive had commenced, the hands had seen sufficient examples of
the blond giant’s exceptional strength to be fully aware of his
potential. So he was ideally suited to carry out the rancher’s
orders.

‘
I’ll give it a whirl, sir,’ Mark
promised. ‘Now don’t that go to prove what a loyal hand I am,
making a sacrifice like that?’

‘
Remind
yourself
not
to ask for a bonus for doing it,’ Goodnight answered
dryly.

‘
Indians coming, Colonel Charlie,’
announced Billy Jack with almost gloomy satisfaction as he rode to
where the rancher was sitting on a knoll ahead of the trail
herd.

Not wanting to give the hands time to think
about the newcomers, Goodnight had insisted on getting the herd
moving in the usual manner on the morning after the de Martins’
arrival. Before Barbe had made her appearance, much to their
disappointment, the cowhands had been taken out to the herd. There
Goodnight had given them orders which temporarily drove all
thoughts of the girl from their heads. Faced with the possibility
of an Indian attack, even the three men Goodnight had named the
previous night had enough good sense to concentrate on the business
in hand.

It was almost noon, with the cattle
continuing to move westward. Sent ahead to act as scout in the
Kid’s absence, Billy Jack had just returned to report on his
findings. Galloping from the point, Mark reined in his horse and
looked to the rancher for orders.

'
Throw the herd off the trail!’ Goodnight
said. ‘Signal to the drag men to drop back to the wagons, then you
and Swede get your men up on the point.’

‘
Yo!’ Mark replied, turning his horse
and riding away.

After the cattle’s forward progress had
ceased, Goodnight watched the trail hands taking up their allotted
positions. Then the rancher and Billy Jack turned their attention
to the distant riders.

‘
Cap’n Dusty
’n’ the Kid’s with
’em,’ Billy Jack commented, relief plain in his voice.

Even as the lanky cowhand spoke, the Kid rode
ahead of the others and stopped his white stallion. Raising his
rifle into the air with his right hand, he put his left up as if to
shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, then indicated the men
behind him.

‘
He wants us to show the
Indians our rifles when they come,’ Goodnight translated. ‘Best do
it, I reckon. Fog back and tell the men I said it’s all right for
them to let the Comanches look, but that none of them have to do
anything
that might spark off trouble.’

‘
I’ll warn
’em good,’ Billy
Jack promised.

Left alone almost a quarter of a
mile in front of the herd, Goodnight watched and waited for the
Indians to arrive. A more prudent, or less knowledgeable man would
have taken off the jaguar-skin vest that had become so well known
to the
Nemenuh.
Wise in Indian ways, Goodnight did no such thing. The
Comanche admired a brave man, even if he might be an enemy, and
would feel the more respect if they saw he did not fear to let them
know he was
Chaqueta-Tigre
who had caused their people grief on
occasion.

‘
How!’ Goodnight greeted as the
Comanches halted and their chief accompanied Dusty and the Kid
forward to where the rancher waited.

‘
How!’ the chief answered.

‘
This’s
Pinedapoi,
chief of the
Yamparikuh
and his
hunters,
Colonel,’ introduced
the Kid, laying emphasis on the next-to-last word.
‘Pinedapoi,
this’s
Chaqueta-Tigre.
The chief has come to see the
guns-which-shoot-many-times.’

‘
Take him to look at
them,’ Goodnight offered, also speaking the Comanche tongue but
using the dialect of the
Tanima,
Liver-Eater, band with which he was most
familiar. He could guess at the reason for the request and
willingly gave his permission. Then he turned to Dusty. ‘How did it
go?’

‘
Easy enough in the end. Lon showed
them how a Henry can pour out lead, and be reloaded as you shoot.
After that it was just dickering.’

One of the improvements to the ‘New Model
Henry’ was that it could be loaded through a slot in the frame
instead of following the old, slower way of retracting the spring
and opening the entire tube on hinges. With the new rifle, one
could load and fire in the manner of a single-shot, but still
retain a full magazine of sixteen rounds against an emergency. As
Dusty claimed, the Comanches had seen the advantage of the
improvement and been much impressed.

‘
We can go through then?’ asked the
rancher.

‘
Yes. I’ve offered them six good horses
and a dozen head from the herd. It’s to show our hearts’re good,
not a tribute.’

A subtle difference which
Goodnight understood. Passing through another hunting party’s area,
Indian braves would share their meat as a sign of good faith. But,
if strong enough to enforce their will, they did it voluntarily.
Tribute implied
that the people giving it had no other choice. The
Yamparikuh
would be less
inclined to make trouble with ‘good heart’ givers than for people
who paid tribute.

Hearing a noise behind them,
Dusty and Goodnight looked around. One of the braves rode from
among the
Yamparikuh
and stared at the cattle. Taller and heavier than the
majority of his companions, he had an air of truculence about him.
Dressed in the style of a dandified, successful young warrior, he
carried a war-axe and long-bladed knife balancing themselves on his
belt and was one of the few firearms’ owners. Judging by the scalp
of long, lank black hair which decorated his knife’s sheath, he had
met with victory on a previous mission. Holding a tack-decorated
Mississippi rifle in his right hand, he pointed towards the herd
with his left and made an explosive comment to his
companions.