Butchery of the Mountain Man

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

In the village of Iron Bull

When John, Claire, and the baby rode into the village, every villager crowded around them, men, women, and children. One of the older boys, who was about fourteen, ran up to touch John’s leg. Then, with a loud shout he ran back into the crowd.

“I have counted coups! I have counted coups!” he shouted, proudly.

“Claire, where do we go now?” John asked quietly.

“They will lead us to the place of the village council,” Claire replied.

Almost immediately, two men came up, and one took the bridle of John’s horse in hand, as the other took the bridle of Claire’s horse. The two men led them through the camp until they stopped in front of a teepee. There was a council fire and several men were sitting around the fire. One was sitting by himself, just in front of the teepee opening, making it obvious that he was the head.

“That is Iron Bull,” Claire said.

John held up his hand. “I come in peace, Iron Bull.”

“Taya yahípi,” Iron Bull replied.

“He welcomes us.”

Iron Bull spoke again.

“He asks that you join the council, but I cannot, as I am a woman.”

“Tell him I must have you beside me, because you are my words.”

Claire translated John’s words.

Iron Bull nodded, and made a motion indicating Claire could join them.

“Philamayaye,” Claire replied, thanking him.

“Tell him that we come from the soldier chief. That the white man wants to live in peace with his Indian brothers.”

Claire translated, then Iron Bull spoke, and she gasped.

“What is it? What did he say?”

“He said that you have killed some of his people. That you, and one called Smoke have killed Crow.”

“That is true, but only because we were attacked by Crow. That is why we are here now, to make peace so that our people will not kill each other anymore.”

“You have come to me in peace, and you may leave in peace. But there can be no peace between us.”

“What do you think, Claire? Do you think there is any chance in getting him to change his mind?”

“I will ask,” she replied, then, to Iron Bull.

“Great Chief, how strong is your conviction that there can be no peace?”

“It is very strong. Why do you live with a white man?”

“I was sold to a white man, by my own people. It was not my choice.”

“Were you sold to this man?”

“No. John Jackson is a good man. I came to him because I wanted to. This baby is our baby. I wanted to have our baby.”

“The baby is white.”

“The baby is white and Indian. It is a fine baby, and it is a symbol of peace between the Indian and the white man.”

“You may leave the village in peace. But after you have left, there can be no peace.”

Claire turned to her husband. “I think we must go now,” she said. “We can do no more, here.”

“All right,” John said. “If that is what you think.”

“Iron Bull, have we your word that we can leave without fear?”

“My word is good only as far as the village,” Iron Bull replied. “After you leave the village, there will be no peace.”

“Oh!” Claire said.

“Claire, what is it?”

“John, we must go, now.”

John stood, then took the baby, and with Claire moved slowly and deliberately to their horses.

“Tie the baby in very tightly,” Claire said. “For after we leave the village, we must ride as fast as we can ride.”

“Claire, what is it? What did he say?”

“He said we are safe only until we are out of the village. Then we will be in great danger.”

They rode quietly out of the village then, when they were clear of the village, someone shouted something.

“John! He said we must run!” Claire said.

Quickly they broke into a gallop, riding as fast as they could. Behind them they heard the cries and calls of Indians in pursuit, and when John looked around he saw several mounted Indians chasing them.

“In there!” John said, pointing to a narrow draw, as arrows flew by them.

The draw was so narrow that only one horse at a time could pass, and that was good, because that meant that only one Indian at time could be in pursuit.

Claire and the baby went in first with John behind them. He knew this draw well because he had been trapped here last winter. He knew where it came out, and he also knew that if they could make it out the other end, he could seal it off so that the pursuing Indians couldn’t get through.

Pulling his rifle from the saddle sheath, John twisted around in the saddle, raised the Henry to his shoulder, aimed, and fired at the horse the Indian was riding. The horse went down, throwing its rider over its head. The dead horse had the effect of blocking off the draw. That brought the Indians behind to a complete stop, enabling John and Claire to put a little more distance between them.

One Indian managed to get through, and he galloped after them. This time John shot at the rider, rather than the horse and that bought them enough time to make it all the way through to the other end.

“Keep going!” John yelled. “I’m going to stop them here!”

John dismounted, then climbed up to the top of the opening. There, using his rifle as a lever, he managed to roll a rock loose, which had the effect of starting others down, until there was a rockslide of sufficient quantity to block up the entire pass.

Climbing back down he stayed just outside the blocked-up pass for a few minutes to make sure none of the Indians were able to get through, then satisfied that he had stopped them, he remounted and joined Claire, who was half a mile away.

By now their horses were panting hard.

“We need to dismount and walk them for a while,” John said.

“Do we go back home, now?” Claire asked.

“Yes, but first we should go by the fort to tell Major Clinton that we didn’t have any luck with our peace mission.”

“But you don’t need me,” Claire said. “I want to go home.” She smiled. “I want to make a soup with vegetables from our garden.”

“All right, you and Kirby go on home. I’ll stop by the fort to see Major Clinton, then I’ll come on home.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.”

“I will have soup ready for you. It will be a very good soup.”

“I’ve no doubt but that it will,” John said. He leaned over toward her, and kissed her. “Going to Rendezvous and finding you, is the best thing I ever did in my entire life.”

By now the horses had resumed their normal breathing.

“I think we can ride them now,” he said. “You go on home, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thechíhila,” Claire said.

“Thechíhila.” John replied. Lakota for “I love you,” it was one of the first Lakota phrases John learned.

Fort Shaw, Montana

“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Jackson,” Major Clinton said. “I was rather hoping that we might be able to come to some kind of an accommodation with them.”

“I’m sorry as well,” John replied.

“You can use the same quarters tonight and start home tomorrow.”

“No, my wife and child have already gone home. I promised I would be back tonight.”

Major Clinton laughed. “Well, I can’t say as I blame you. I do thank you for your effort, even if it wasn’t successful.”

Before he left, John went into the sutler’s store, where he bought a straw hat with a wide brim for Claire to wear as she worked in the garden. He was sure she would like it. He also bought some chocolate, and a small toy horse for Kirby. Kirby was too young to be able to appreciate it now, but he was sure that he would within another few years.

He thought about his friend Smoke, and thought he would be pleased to know that there was someone named for him.

[Fort Shaw was established June 30, 1867. It was located on the right bank of the Sun River, some twenty-five miles above its junction with the Missouri, and five miles above the point where the Fort Benton–Helena stagecoach road crossed the Sun River. Fort Shaw was established to protect the route between Fort Benton and Helena and to prevent the movement of hostile Indians into the settled area to the south. Four companies, under the command of Major William Clinton, 13th U.S. Infantry, selected the site. First called “Camp Reynolds,” the post was designated “Fort Shaw” on August 1, 1867, in honor of Colonel Robert G. Shaw, 54th Massachusetts Infantry, killed before Fort Wagner in 1863. Abandoned on July 21, 1891, the military reservation was transferred to the Interior Department on April 30, 1892. The former post served as an Indian school from 1892 until 1910.—ED.]

Boulder

Smoke couldn’t believe he had let Sally talk him into coming to the Jordan car dealership.

“Yes, sir,” the slick salesman said. “There she is, the Jordan Playboy. The niftiest car on the road today.”

“What do you think, Smoke?” Sally asked. She got into the car, sat behind the wheel, and flashed a big smile.

“Why don’t I just buy you a jar of perfume?” Smoke proposed.

Sally laughed. “A jar? A jar of perfume? Honey, do you think they put perfume up in jars, like ajar of pickles?”

“I know it comes in little bitty bottles, but for what this thing would cost, I could buy you ten jars of perfume.”

“I can see that I’m getting nowhere with you,” she said. She got out of the car. “Okay, take me out to dinner. And if you aren’t going to buy me this car, then I want to most expensive dinner in town.”

“That, I will do,” Smoke replied.

Boulder’s newest, and quickly one of its finest, restaurants was Summer’s Sunken Gardens, a European-style eatery. The focal point was a large pool-like fountain in the center of the dining area.

“Please don’t tell Pearlie or Cal that we ate lamb,” Smoke said as they began on the entrée, crown roast of lamb. “I’ll never live it down.”

“How are your sessions with Professor Armbruster going?”

“It’s funny,” Smoke said. “But talking to him like this, I mean bringing things out in great detail, not just a quick story here and there, it’s as if I am actually reliving it.”

“Are you all right with that?” Sally asked as she carved off a bit of lamb.

“Yes, I suppose I am. Some of it, I’m actually enjoying. But some of it has been hard, much harder than I would have thought.”

“I know you talked about Nicole and Arthur, and I know how difficult that had to be for you.”

“Yes, it was difficult. And, it was also difficult talking about Denise and Louis, especially Louis, since it hasn’t been that long since he was killed.”

“At least we have our grandchildren, Frank and Elyse,” Sally said.

“How old are they now?”

“Frank is eleven, Elyse is nine.”

“They’re living with their mother and her new husband, and we never get to see them.”

“The trains run in both directions,” Sally said. “We could go back East to see them easier than they could come here. They do have school, after all.”

“Yeah, we can, can’t we? Sally, what do you say that after I’m finished with this business with Professor Armbruster, that we go see the grandkids?”

“Oh, Smoke, I think that would be wonderful!” she said. “Yes, let’s please do it!”

“We will,” Smoke promised.