The Scalp Hunters

Chapter Fifteen

The horse he had taken from the Sioux was about done in, but Logan didn’t care. He had deliberately ridden it near into the ground.

The distant glow of a campfire was why. He’d counted on Venom stopping for the night, and unless he missed his guess, the camp up ahead belonged to the bastard who shot him and the former friends who left him for dead.

Logan slowed his lathered mount and fingered the hilt of the knife. Earlier, he had come on the bodies of Rubicon and an Arapaho and out of spite cut off the black’s nose. A petty act, but an impulse he couldn’t resist. So what if Rubicon hadn’t been with them when Venom shot him?

A few hundred yards out, Logan drew rein and slid down. He let the reins dangle and advanced on foot, staying low to the ground so there was less chance of them spotting him.

Presently Logan flattened and crawled. His former pards had camped at the base of a knoll. He counted five forms around the fire. Two were missing. The Kyler twins, he soon deduced. He reckoned that Venom had sent them on ahead, which worked in his favor.

Logan was going to kill his former boss. Here and now was as good as any other time, but he needed a gun and they weren’t about to hand one to him. Staying well out in the dark, he studied on how to get one.

The five were eating. Jerky and coffee wasn’t much of a meal, but it was more than Logan had. His mouth watered and his stomach growled.

No one said much. Tibbet mentioned that he wished they were eating thick venison steaks or roast buffalo and Venom growled that they couldn’t risk shooting game because shots carried a long way.

Potter bit off a piece of jerky and asked with his mouth full, “Do you still think we’ll catch up to them tomorrow?”

“They can’t be that far ahead,” Venom said. “By noon at the latest we’ll have them.”

“Let’s hope the Kylers don’t lift their hair before we get there,” Tibbet remarked.

“They know better.”

“What about after?” Calvert asked. “Do we keep hunting scalps hereabouts or head elsewhere?”

Venom spat. “Do you even have to ask? As soon as we’re done with the girl and her friends, we’re heading for Texas. There’s plenty of bounty money to be made off Comanche scalps.”

“I’d rather hunt them than the Apaches,” Potter said. “Apaches aren’t quite human.”

“They pull their shirts on one sleeve at a time like the rest of us,” Venom said sourly.

“That’s about all we have in common. They can run all day under a hot sun without tiring, and we can’t. They can go days without water, and we can’t. They can kill us in a hundred different ways and do it so quietly we’re dead before we know they’re anywhere near.”

“Don’t make more out of them than there is.”

Logan was watching Calvert Finally he groped himself and stood. Without saying a word, he went to heed the need.

Quickly rising into a crouch, Logan circled the camp. The sound of urine spattering the grass drew him to the spot.

Calvert had leaned his rifle against his leg and was gazing at the stars.

On cat’s feet Logan came up behind him and drove his knife into Calvert’s back while simultaneously clamping his other hand over Calvert’s mouth.

Calvert went rigid and tried to pull free, but the long blade did its work well. Exhaling out his nose, he deflated like a punctured water skin.

Logan lowered him to the grass. He helped himself to Calvert’s pistols and ammo pouch and powder horn. He hefted Calvert’s rifle and grinned. He also took a large pouch Calvert always wore.

Time to kill Venom. Logan crept toward the fire. He tucked the stock to his shoulder and fixed a bead on the center of Venom’s chest. Curling his thumb, he pulled back the hammer. There was a click but not so loud that any of them would hear. He had Venom dead to rights and he paused to savor the moment.

The pause proved costly. The firelight must have gleamed off the barrel because suddenly Venom threw himself flat, bellowing to the others as he dived. “Get down!”

Cursing, Logan fired. He rushed his shot and the lead kicked up dirt next to Venom’s face instead of coring his head as Logan wanted. Whirling, Logan did the only thing he could under the circumstances; he ran.

Guns boomed. The air sizzled with death. That Logan wasn’t struck he took to be a miracle. Weaving, he made it to the horse he’d taken from the Indian. Instead of climbing on, he swung it around and gave it a hard smack on the rump. Then he flung himself in the grass.

“This way!”

Dark figures went pounding past after the horse.

“He’s getting away!”

As soon as the blackness swallowed them, Logan hurried to the fire. He yanked out the picket pin and scattered all the horses save Venom’s with cries and slaps. More lead sought him as he galloped to the west, but his luck held.

Logan didn’t expect pursuit. By the time they collected their mounts, he would be miles away.

He needed to think, to come up with a way to kill Venom and the others and have the girl to himself.

The smart thing, Logan supposed, was to forget her and light a shuck. Forget his revenge, too, but that he would never do. A man had to stand up for himself or he wasn’t much of a man. Granted, by the standards of churchgoing folk he wasn’t much anyway. He still had his pride.

Before too long, he would also have the white girl.

Evelyn tossed and turned and couldn’t sleep no matter how she tried. Maybe that was the problem. She was trying too hard. Casting off her blanket, she rose and fed buffalo chips to the fire, then stood and stretched and yearned for the comfort of her parents’ cabin.

Everyone else was asleep.

They’d debated taking turns keeping watch. As tired as they were, Evelyn had argued with Waku that rest was more important. Given that his son was hurt and his wife and daughters exhausted, Waku gave in.

Evelyn checked the coffeepot. There was some tea left. She filled her tin cup and walked a dozen feet into the dark to contemplate the stars and ponder. She needed a brainstorm. The scalp hunters would be after their hair tomorrow, and she had yet to think of a way to stop them.

Sinking down, Evelyn placed her Hawken at her side and rested her elbows on her legs. Her body was sore and weary, but her mind flew on Chinook winds. How? How? How? she asked herself.

Moccasins scraped the grass.

Evelyn glanced up and wasn’t surprised at who it was. “You can’t sleep, either?”

“No.” Dega eased down. He didn’t tell her why he couldn’t sleep.

“Some hunting trip this turned out to be. We should have waited until my folks got back from St. Louis.”

“My father want hunt,” Dega reminded her.

“I didn’t think any harm would come of it. My father and Uncle Shakespeare have done it many a time and always make it home safe. I tend to forget, I guess.”

“Forget what?”

“The dangers. They make everything seem so easy. But then, they know how to do everything, so they run fewer risks.” Evelyn motioned the way they had come, and when she did, her arm brushed Dega’s. “If I had any brains, I’d never have gone after the two Arapahos like I did.”

“You save Plenty Elk,” Dega reminded her.

“Only to have him be killed later.” Evelyn sadly bowed her head. “I’m doing my best, but I’m not my father. I’m not even my brother. God, how I wish he was here.”

“You love him great much.” Dega knew he had not spoken proper English and repressed an urge to smack his forehead in frustration.

“Of course I do. Just like you love Teni and Miki. But it’s more than that. Zach is able to do something I never can. All my big talk, and I’m next to worthless.”

“I confused,” Dega admitted. He was touched by her sorrow and almost reached out to comfort her.

Evelyn looked at him. “All along I’ve been telling your pa that we have to kill the slave hunters. That it’s our only chance, our only hope. But do you know what? I don’t have it in me to take a life unless maybe someone is about to stick a knife into me or shoot me, and even then I’m not so sure.” Evelyn balled her fists, angry at her weakness. “I’m no killer.”

Dega chose his words carefully. “You make sound no kill sound bad, but it good you not take life.”

“How can it be good if we lose our own because of it?”

“Good for you here.” Dega touched his chest. “It mean you have peace inside. Nansusequa peace.”

“Explain, if you don’t mind.”

Dega fought down panic. She was asking him to make clear a complicated concept in a tongue in which he was woefully inadequate. Nevertheless, for her, he tried his best. “Nansusequa like peace. Nansusequa peaceful with all people unless people try hurt Nansusequa.”

“That’s my own problem. I just told you.”

“But not problem. It what Manitoa want.”

“The spirit in all things that your people believe in? How does that enter into it?”

Dega gestured, and his arm brushed hers. “Manitoa in all life. Manitoa in you. Manitoa in me. Manitoa in buffalo. Manitoa in grass, in trees, in sky. Manitoa in scalp hunters. You…” He sought the right white word. “…savvy?”

“Yes, I get that much.”

“Life special to my people. We hurt life, we hurt Manitoa. So we try live in peace with all there is so not hurt Manitoa. Savvy that?”

“It’s very commendable.”

“But you see?” Dega made bold to put his hand on her arm. “You commendable. You not want hurt life, not want hurt Manitoa. You have peace in heart. Nansusequa heart.”

Evelyn smiled. “Thank you for the compliment. A lot of my people don’t see it that way. They say we have to kill our enemies. Whole countries go to war and take great pride in the killing they do.”

Dega gently squeezed her arm. “They not you. You like Nansusequa. You, what is word? You cherish life.”

“I try.” Evelyn impulsively leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for trying to cheer me. You’re about the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

A warm tingle spread through Dega. “Thank you,” he said, oddly hoarse. “You sweetest girl.” He started to kiss her cheek as she had kissed his but caught himself. The Nansusequa believed that a man and woman should not kiss until after the two joined hearts in a formal ceremony, as his father and mother had done.

Evelyn saw him lean toward her and sensed what he was about to do. Her pulse quickened. When he stopped, she thought he must be shy. So she figured she would peck him on the cheek again to show him he had nothing to be embarrassed about.

At that instant Dega decided that if it was the white custom to kiss cheeks, he should respect the custom and kiss her. He turned his head slightly just as her face rose to meet his.

Their lips met.

A lightning bolt seemed to cleave Evelyn’s body. She jerked back in shock and raised her fingers to her lips. “Oh.”

Dega thought his body was on fire. He trembled slightly, and felt his insides roil. “I sorry,” he blurted, afraid he had offended her. “I not mean kiss mouth.”

“It’s all right,” Evelyn said softly.

“It is?”

“I liked it.”

“You did?” Dega had broken out in a sweat and his tongue felt as thick as his wrist.

Evelyn leaned in close again. “You’re the first boy I’ve ever kissed. Did you know that?”

Dega wanted to respond, but his thick tongue refused to move.

“A girl’s not supposed to admit she likes a boy kissing her. If I’m being too forward, say so.”

Dega wondered how she could say she was going forward when she was sitting. “I like kiss, too.”

“Well.”

“Well,” Dega echoed, unsure what else he should say.

“Would you like to do it again?”

“I like do it whole life.”

Evelyn smiled. “That’s getting a little ahead of ourselves. Maybe we should take it one kiss at a time.”

Dega’s breath nearly caught in his throat as he asked, “I kiss you one time more?”

“You can kiss me ten times if you want.”

The breeze stirred the grass. The fire danced and flickered. Somewhere to the north a wolf howled.

Dega’s senses were swimming when after a while he drew back and let the cool night breeze caress his hot face.

“Why did you stop?”

“That ten kisses.”

“Silly goose,” Evelyn said, and pulled him close again.