Lonely On the Mountain (1980) (19 page)

When he had his money in his hand, Gilcrist said, "Someday I'm goin' to look you up, Sackett. Someday I want to find out if you can really handle that gun." "Follow me back to the States," I said, "and choose your time." "To the States? Why the States?" "I'm a visitor here," I said, "and a man has no call to get blood on a neighbor's carpet." Westward we went following a route north of the North Saskatchewan through a country of hills and poplars with many small lakes or sloughs.

There was no shortage of firewood now, for at every stop we found broken branches under the trees.

It was a lovely, green, rolling country even now in the latter days of July.

Anxiously, we watched the skies, knowing that cold came soon in these northern regions and that we had but little time. The nights were cool and the mornings crisp; the campfires felt good.

"A good frost would help us," Cap said, nursing a cup of coffee by the fire, "kill off some of these mosqueeters an' flies." We were camped by Bear Lake, a place I could have stayed forever. How many times I have found such campsites! Places so beautiful it gave a man the wi/ls to see or to think back on. So many times we said, "We've got to come back some time!" an' knowin' all the while we never would.

That night, we heard the wolves howl, and there were foxes barking right out by the cattle. In the night, we heard a squabble, an' Tyrel an' me came out of our sleep, guns in hand. Then the noise quieted down, and we went back to sleep, only to be awakened again with a wild bawling of a cow, the crack of a whip, and the yelp of a wolf.

Come daylight, we learned some wolves had jumped a steer; he'd been scratched in some brush earlier and had blood on him. Orrin had come in with that Spanish whip he carried on his saddle, a long, wicked lash that could take the hide off. He'd used it on wolves before, and he could flick a fly from a steer's hide without touching the steer. I'd seen him do it.

The steer the wolves had attacked was so badly hurt it had to be shot.

We were breaking camp when we heard some yells, then a sound of galloping horses. In a moment, we had our rifles, but Baptiste gestured wildly and waved us back.

It was a party of m`etis wearing brass- buttoned capots, calico shirts in a variety of colors, and moleskin trousers. Their belts were beaded in red and white or blue and white, and most of them wore cloth caps, only a few having hats and one a coonskin cap.

They were a friendly, cheerful lot, talking excitedly with Baptiste whom they obviously knew well.

"They go to Fort Pitt," he explained. "They are hunters, and they have been to another camp, feasting." Tyrel indicated their horses. "Wish we had some of them. That's some of the best horseflesh I've seen." When Baptiste suggested it, they agreed to show us some stock when we reached Fort Pitt. After drinking an enormous amount of coffee, they swung to their saddles and dashed off, whooping and yelling, at top speed.

After they had gone, Baptiste stopped me as I was mounting. "Bad!" he whispered. "Ver' bad! They speak of many mans, maybe ten, twelve mans near Jackfish Lake. They wait for somebody, or somet'ing. Today, they say the mans move back into woods, hide horses." Haney came in for coffee at the nooning.

"Seen some tracks. Two riders, keepin' out of sight. I caught a flash of sunlight on a rifle and slipped around and taken a look.

They're scoutin' us." "White men?" "You betcha! Well mounted, Tell, well mounted an' well armed." Well, we had known it was coming. Now we were in wild country. If we vanished out here, who would know? Or care?

Chapter
XXI

Wolves hung on our flanks as we moved out, nor would they be driven off. We had no wish to shoot and attract undue attention, nor would the waste of ammunition have done any good, for their ranks were continually added to by other wolves.

We pushed on over some flat country dotted by trees and groups of trees, crossing several small streams.

It was the thought of a stampede that worried me.

"If they scatter our stock, we lose time in the gather," I said. "Cap? Why don't you scout on ahead and try to find us a camp in the woods? Some place where we can fall some trees to make a so-so corral?" "I can look," he said.

"Ride easy in the saddle," I said. "This is an ugly bunch. I don't think much of them as fightin' men, but they'll kill you." He rode off through the scattered trees, and we came on. Fleming was doing a good day's work, but I still had no trust in the man. There had seemed to be something between him an' Gilcrist.

Nettie was proving herself a hand. She caught on to what was necessary, and she rode well. I'd no doubts about Mary McCann. She might be no youngster, and she might be carrying some weight, but she could still ride most anything that wore hair.

We pushed on, and I had to smile at Haney and Shorty. Both of them were pretty handy with the cussing, but since the girls showed up, there was none of that. It must have been a strain, but they were bearing up under it.

Cap had us a camp when we came to it, a small meadow near a stream with trees and brush all around. We watered them, got them inside, and dragged some deadfalls across the openings. Then we scouted the brush and trees on both sides to see how an attacker might approach us.

Cap an' me, we went back in the trees and rigged some snares and deadfalls, traps for anybody who might come sneaking up.

If they wanted to come up on us in the night, they were asking for whatever they got. Come daylight, we'd dismantle the traps so's they wouldn't trap any unwary man or animal after we'd gone.

Lin fixed us a mighty nice supper, having a mite more time. Nettie came to me while we were eating. "Why can't we stand watch? You men need the rest." "Let them," Cap was saying.

None of us had been around when Cap finally met Mary, and none of us asked any questions, although I was curious as to what made her change her name and leave that place she had back in New Mexico. But it was her business. By the position of the Big Dipper, it was maybe two o'clock in the morning when Nettie touched me on the shoulder.

"There's something moving in the brush," she said, "several somethings." She and Mary had been riding herd, and I rolled out, shook out my boots, and stuck my feet into them. Haney was already moving, and so were Orrin and Tyrel.

Taking up my Winchester I followed her to her pony. He was standing head up, looking toward the woods, his ears pricked. At just that moment, there was a sudden crash in the brush and a grunt, then an oath.

"Sit tight, boys," I said. "Don't go into the woods." Somebody called for help in a low voice, but there was no answer; then there was some threshing about, we all just awaiting to see what would happen.

Nothing did until suddenly there was a louder crash and some swearing.

"Nettie," I whispered, "you and Mary might as well get some sleep." "And miss all the fun?" Me, I taken a long look at her.

"Ma'am," I said, "if anything happens, it won't be fun. It will be hard times for somebody, probably them. You get some sleep whilst you've the chance." Turning to Orrin, I said, "You an' Tye go back to sleep. Me an' Highpockets can handle this here." "You figure we caught something?" "By the sound, we caught two somethings," I said, "and I suspect we've persuaded them that crawlin' in the brush ain't what they want to do." When day was breaking, we stirred up the fire for Lin and Highpockets and me; we decided to see what we'd caught and whether it needed skinning or not.

We come to a snare, and there we had a man hangin' head down by one ankle, and he was some unhappy. He'd been hangin' there several hours, and he had been mad; now he was almost cryin' to be set loose.

Me an' Haney, we looked at him. "The way I figure it, Haney," I said, "anything catched in a trap has fur, and when something has fur, you skin it for the hide." "I know," he said. "That's the way we always did it in the mountains, but this one's kind of skimpy on the fur." He took the man by his hair and tilted his face up. "He's got fur on his lip. Maybe we should skin that like I hear you done to somebody down New Mexico way." I reached over and taken him by the end of his handlebar moustache. I held his head up by it while he swung wildly with his arms.

Haney hit one of the wrists a crack with the barrel of his pistol, and the swings stopped.

Holding him by the end of his moustache I turned his head this way and that.

"No," I said, "I don't think it's worth skinning. I figure we should just let him hang.

Maybe somebody will come for him." "Nobody has," Haney said. "Give him a few days and he'll dry out some." The man's pistol had fallen to the ground, and Haney picked it up, then unstrapped the man's cartridge belt. "Would you look at this here, Tell? This man's been walkin' in the dark woods with a pistol in his hand. Why, he might have hurt somebody!" "Or tripped over something and shot hisself.

We'd better carry that gun with us so's he won't get hurt." Haney walked around the hanging man, looking him over. "How long d'you think a man could hang like that?" "Well"--I pushed my hat back and scratched my head--"depend on how long before some bear found him, or maybe the wolves. If they stood on their hind legs, they could sure enough reach him.

"Man smell would bother them for a while," I suggested. "Then they'd get over that and start jumpin' for him. Sooner or later, one of them would get hisself a piece of meat--" "Hey! You fellers goin' to let me hang here, or are you goin' to turn me loose?" "It talks," Haney said, "makes words like it was almost human. How d'you think anything got caught in a trap like that?" "Must've been sneakin' in the woods," I said. "We'd better let this one hang an' see what else we got." "Aw, fellers! Come on now! Turn a man loose!" "So you can come huntin' us again?" Haney asked. "No way." We walked off through the woods toward the deadfall.

There was no game in that trap, but there had been.

There was a hat lying on the ground, but the victim had been carried away. We could see tracks where two men had helped a third away. "Busted a leg, most likely," Haney suggested cheerfully. "Lucky it wasn't his skull." Our other traps were empty, so we dismantled them and went back to camp. "They don't know much," Haney said, "but they'll learn from their troubles. Or maybe they'll recruit some all-out woodsman who could make trouble for us." He paused. "Shall we just forget about that other feller?" "We don't want him hangin' around," I suggested, "so let's turn him loose." We done so. And when he had his feet on the ground, I told him to take off his boots.

"What?" "Take off your boots," I said, "and your pants. We need something for the fire." "Now see here! I--to was "Give him a short count," I said to Haney, "and if he ain't got his boots off, shoot him." He stared at me, wild-eyed, then hit the ground and tugged off his boots. "Now your pants," I said.

He took off his pants. I shook my head at him. "You ought to wash them long johns. Ain't decent, a man as dirty as that." I pointed off through the woods. "Your friends, if you've got any, ar

off thataway. You get started." "Now look here," he protested, "that's a good set of spurs! I wish--" "Beat it," I said. "You take off through those woods and don't you ever come back. If I see you out here again, I'll hang your hide on the nearest deadfall." "Those are good spurs," Haney said.

"Hang 'em on a tree," I said.

"Somebody will find them." We bunched our cows and started them west, and we swung south to avoid the traveled trails. We found fair pasture and moved them along. The wolves taken a steer here and there, and we lost one to a grizzly. Shorty nailed the grizzly but not before he'd killed a good-sized steer.

The grass was sparse, and we crossed some sandy plains with occasional low hills. We had to scout for patches of good grass, but it looked like forest was taking over from the plains. On the third day after the mix-up in the trees, we saw a party of riders coming toward us, but Baptiste told us they were m`etis, and sure enough they were.

Some of them were the same crowd we'd met, and they brought some horses for trading. We had them with us all night and most of the next day, but when we split up, we had nine good horses and a couple of fair ones, and they had some odds and ends of truck as well as some cash money.

We swapped them a rifle we'd picked up and the pistol we'd taken from our hanging man, among other things. The Canadian army had come to Fort Garry, they said, and Riel had disappeared before they could lay hands on him.

The m`etis wanted sugar, salt, and tobacco, and I had an idea they were hiding out themselves, although they were a far piece from Fort Garry now. Evidently, they planned to stay out of sight for a while. With salt, coffee, and tobacco, they could live off the country. It was their country, and they understood it well.

They warned us we were going into wild country where there was little grass and no trails for cattle.

We pushed on regardless, and for the first time our worn-down saddle stock got a rest.

Before they parted from us, one of the m`etis who was a friend to Baptiste and had become my friend, also, took me aside and warned me.

"Two mans, ver' bad. They come to Fort Garry and ride to Carlton. They are sent for by a bearded man, and they meet two other mans who come from the States who are brothers, also. They hunt for you." "The first two men? Do you know who they are?" "Oui. Ver' bad! Polon is their name.

Pete and Jock Polon. If the Hudson's Bay Company was here, they would not come back! They are thieves! They killed trappers! They killed some Cree! And in the woods they are superb! Have a care, mon ami! Have a care!" We drove on another seven miles before we camped after watching the m`etis ride away.