Outside the post, Jack turned the big black northward, the general direction of Fort Laramie. They would have to overtake the squad and get Brave Bear before they got too far away. Jack wondered why he had felt so angry and suspicious of Major Pearson. Something didn’t seem right. And things began to seem even more wrong. They should have found tracks of the squad, but they found much more than that. Not only were there tracks of many horses, but there was also wagon tracks. Several wagons. A wagon train. But this could not be Dunn’s train. They were headed south toward the Platte. Or were they? Strange, Amos would take his wounded before they were well. Why would Pearson tell him they went south? Jack became more agitated and rode silently, not letting Little Elk know he was worried.
They rode steadily onward, Jack scanning the trail ahead and occasionally looking back to cover their back trail. They had only ridden about a half hour when Jack noticed a dust cloud about a half mile back. It could be just someone else using the trail, but given his suspicions, he was afraid he was being followed. He didn’t like being followed. Someone always wound up dead and one of these times, it might well be him.
They rode on. Clayton kept glancing back. The dust cloud was closer now. Whoever was on the trail, was in a big hurry, coming fast with no regard for stealth or caution.
Well, it was time to find out what this was all about. He guided Regret off the trail and climbed a slope into a stand of pine and reined up before a large boulder “Down you go Little Elk.” Jack said, taking the boy’s arm and lifting him down from the saddle.
“Why are we stopping, here True Arrow?” The boy asked. “What are we doing?”
Jack swung down, pulled his rifle from its scabbard and led the black behind the rock, guiding the boy along also. “Get down and be quiet, son” Jack said, kneeling behind the rock, pushing the boy a little behind him. “There is someone on the trail behind us. I want to make sure they are not following us, so we’ll wait here and see who they are. If it’s none of our business, we’ll let them pass and then get on the trail again. Do you think that’s a good plan?”
The boy smiled, proud that True Arrow would ask his opinion. “Yes. Good plan.”
For several minutes, they waited, watching the trail intently. The sun was getting higher in the sky. Its warmth reflected off the rock and warmed them, taking away the chill of early morning.
Closer and closer the dust trail loomed. Now they could see there were two riders. They were pushing their mounts hard without regard to their wellbeing. Clayton always disliked men who mistreated their horses. Without knowing who they were, friend or foe or no, he knew he wouldn’t like them.
Minutes ticked by. Jack and Little Elk waited silently and patiently. The riders were close now. They could hear the snorting and heaving and breathing of the lathered mounts.
Closer, closer. Then as if emerging from the cloud of dust the two figures appeared clearly. Latrell and Brave Bear. So, the Major had lied. Latrell and Brave Bear had been at the fort all the time. And now, it was plain to see that they were after Clayton and the Indian boy. The G-Man didn’t know what the game was, but he was going to play it.
“Stay down, Little Elk.” He whispered, raising his rifle and bracing it across the top of the boulder.
As the two riders came almost abreast of them, Clayton let loose, levering and firing round after round into ground just in front of the running horses feet. They reared on two legs, their front legs pawing air and whinnying shrilly with terror, spinning and churning dust. Latrell and Brave Bear taken by surprise, had no time to react to the ambush. They fell from their saddles and rolled in the dirt, Jack peppering more dirt into their faces as they rolled, with each successive shot driving a bullet into the dirt scant inches from them. The shrieking horses turned and ran off. Brave bear lay face down in the dirt. His hands clasped over his head as if for protection.
“Stay here!” Clayton ordered and stepped out from behind the rock, not bothering to look back to see if Little Elk understood. Holding the rifle at the ready, he climbed down the slope.
“All right, on your feet!” the G-Man commanded, waving the rifle barrel back and forth at the two men.
Brave Bear unclasped his hands, rolled over and glared at his captor. “You’ll die for this, white man,” he growled.
Jack ignored the threat. “I said on your feet. And keep your hands where I can see them.”
Slowly Brave Bear pushed himself up and stood in a crouch, swaying on unsteady legs.
“You too, Latrell. And don’t try anything.”
Latrell stood up silently. Spat a stream of tobacco onto the ground and rolled his cud. Then said. “What do you keep picking on us for? We never done nothing to you.”
“I am not going to give you a chance to either,” Jack retorted. “Now one at a time, carefully, and I mean carefully, toss your weapons to the ground.”
Neither man moved. Just stood staring, taunting. Jack levered a round. “Now!” he shouted.
Brave bear reached for his belt, lifted his knife and let it drop into the dirt. “Now you, Latrell!” Jack commanded. “Remember, be careful.”
Latrell reached for his pistol. “Uh,uh.” Clayton warned. “Left hand.”
Latrell switched hands and reached across his body to pull the six gun awkwardly from the holster. He paused a moment, contemplating, then thinking better of it, he tossed it into dirt.
“Little Elk,” Jack called. “Bring Regret down here and bring me the rope from my saddle.”
“You are not helping your sister by helping this wasichus, Little Elk.” Brave Bear warned as he watched the boy lead the big black down to the trail.
“You don’t care about my sister.” The small Indian sneered. “You are a mean man.”
“If I ever get out of this, you’ll find out how mean I am.” Brave Bear warned.
Little Elk stared at him with hatred and fear. He swallowed hard and looked to Jack.
“Don’t worry, son. He won’t hurt you again.” Jack took the rope from the boy and tossed it to Brave Bear. “Now tie your friend up. Good and tight. Savvy?”
“I savvy,” he grumbled.
Reluctantly, Brave Bear went to work and trussed Latrell with his hands and feet behind him. “You can’t leave us out here like this.” Latrell pleaded.
“No,” Jack said. “Just you. Brave Bear is going with us. He’s going to take us to White Fawn, isn’t that right Brave Bear?”
Brave Bear leered at Little Elk. “Yes,” he hissed.
Little Elk trembled, his lower lip quivered. Jack suspected there was something between Little Elk and Brave Bear that the boy had kept from him.
“Little Elk,” Jack said. “Think you can round up those two horses for us?”
Little Elk nodded, turned and ran off down the trail after the horses.
“Put your hands out toward me. Keep them close together and be very careful.” Jack lifted the muzzle of his rifle close to the Indian’s face.
Brave Bear reluctantly extended his hands and Jack slapped a set of handcuffs on his wrists.
“Get one thing straight, Brave Bear,” Jack warned. “You leave that boy alone. He’s been through enough. And one more thing, if I think you are just leading us around, playing us, I mean if we don’t find White Fawn in a reasonable amount of time, or if we do find her and she’s not all right. I’ll kill you where you stand. Got it?”
“As you say,” Brave Bear sneered. “I got it.”
****
Chapter Twelve
Trail of White Fawn