Bring Me His Ears
CHAPTER VI
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS
Shortly after noon the wind died down enough to let the packet resumeher upstream labors, and expectations ran high that she would make along, peaceful run. They were not to be realized.
The first unpleasant incident occurred when the boat had been runagainst a bank at a woodpile to replenish her fuel. The lines were madefast and the first of the wood-carriers had reached the stacked cordwoodwhen from behind it arose a dozen renegade Indians, willing to turnmomentarily from their horse-stealing expedition long enough to levy atribute of firewater on the boat. They refused to allow a stick to beremoved without either a fight or a supply of liquor and trade goods,and the leader of the band grappled with the foremost member of the crewand tried to drag him behind the shelter of the pile and so gain ahostage to give additional weight to their demands and to save them frombeing fired on.
Goaded by despair and fright from the unexpectedness of the attack andwhat might be in store for him the white man struggled desperately and,with the return of a measure of calmness, worked a neat cross-buttock onhis red adversary and threw him sprawling out in plain sight of theboat. Half a dozen plainsmen on board had leaped for their rifles andshouted the alarm; a four pound carronade was wheeled swiftly intoposition and a charge of canister sent crashing over the woodpile intothe brush and trees. The roar of the gun and the racket caused by thecharge as it rattled through the branches and brush filled the savageswith dismay and, not daring to run from the pile and up the bank underthe cannon and the rapidly augmented rifles on the decks of the boat,they raised their hands and slowly emerged from their worthlessbreastwork.
Captain Newell shouted frantic instructions to his grim and accuratevolunteers, ordering and begging in one breath for them not to fire, forhe knew that bloodshed would start a remorseless sniping warfare alongthe river that might last for several seasons. At such a game thesnipers on the banks, concealed as they would be, could reasonably beexpected to run up quite a list of casualties on the boat. This was nonew experience for him and he knew that nothing serious would grow outof it as long as none of the Indians were injured. This little party wascomposed of the renegade scourings of the frontier tribes which had beendebauched by their contact with the liquor-selling whites and they weremore fitted for petty thievery than the role of warriors. He shouted andargued and cursed and pleaded with the eager riflemen, most of whomburned with the remembrance of stolen packs of furs and equipment at thehands of such Indians as these.
The growling plainsmen, knowing that he was right and understanding hisposition, reluctantly kept their trigger fingers extended and finallylowered their pieces, hoping that the Indians would lose their heads anddo some overt act; but the Indians were not fools, whatever else theymight have been. With eager alertness on one side and sullenacquiescence on the other the wooding was finished, ropes cast off andthe _Missouri Belle_ pushed quickly out into the stream, her grim faceddefenders manning the stern decks and praying for an excuse to openfire.
No sooner had a reasonable distance been opened between the boat and thebank than the Indians, at a signal from their leader, leaped behind thewoodpile and opened fire on the boat with muskets and bows and arrows,the latter weapons far more accurate than the miserable trade guns whicha few of the braves carried. With them dropping an arrow is an instinctand they have developed it to a degree that is remarkable, to say theleast; while with the smooth-bore trade guns, with varying charges oftrade powder and sizes of balls, they were poor shots at any distance.Instantly two score rifles replied from the boat, pouring their leadenhail into the stacked wood, but without any noticeable result; andbefore a second round could be fired the distance had been increased tosuch an extent that only one or two excitable tenderfeet tried a secondshot. The chief result of the incident was the breaking of the monotonyof the trip and the starting of chains of reminiscences among thehunters and trappers to which the tenderfeet listened with eager ears.
After this flurry of excitement interest slowly swung far astern, wherethe American Fur Company's boat was supposed to be breasting the currenton her long voyage to Fort Union and beyond, and many eyes were on thelookout for a glimpse of her smoke. A sight of the boat itself, exceptat close range, was almost hopeless because the bends in the river wereso numerous and close together that the stream seemed like a narrowlake.
The surface of the water was becoming different from what it had been,for the great masses of floating debris had thinned and no longer camedown in raft-like formations. This was due to the rapid falling of thewater, which had stranded more and more of the bulkier drift and piledit up at the head of every island, emerging bar and jutting point. Atthe height of the freshets, especially the April rise, often the logsand trees came down so thick and solid that they resembled floatingislands. This was in large measure due to the simultaneous floating ofthe vast accumulations piled up all along the banks, and it arouseddisgust and anxiety in the hearts of the boatmen, who feared for hullsand paddle wheels.
The harmless brush with the Indians and the stories the affair hadstarted quickened interest in firearms, and during the rest of theafternoon there was considerable target practice against the ducks,geese, and debris, and an occasional long shot at some animal on thedistant bank.
Tom Boyd did his share of this, glad of the opportunity to try out hisnew and strange weapons, and to put off meeting Patience Cooper as longas he could, fearing her attitude concerning his fight with Schoolcraft.He found that the newly marketed Colt six-shooter was accurate andpowerful at all reasonable ranges, beautifully balanced and wellbehaving. It attracted a great deal of attention from fellow travelers,for it was not as well-known in Missouri as it was in other parts of thecountry. The English rifle, not much heavier than the great Hawkenweapons of his companions, despite its two barrels, shot true andstrong, and the two ready shots at his command easily recompensed himfor the additional weight. At this time, in the country into which hewas going, an instantly available second shot had an importance not tobe overlooked. To the Indians, especially, was it disconcerting, and itsmoral effect partook of the nature of magic and made a white man's"medicine" that demanded and received a wholesome respect. He found thatit followed the rough and ready rule of the frontier that up to ahundred yards the proper charge was as much powder as would cover thebullet in the palm of the hand. In the long range shots the weapon wassurprisingly accurate, and one thoughtful and intelligent hunter, whohad guided several English sporting parties, gave the credit to thepointed bullets.
"Thar ain't no doubt about it, pardner," he confided to Tom as he slylyproduced his own bullet mold, and showed it to his companion. "I'vetried 'em out in my own rifle, an' they shore do shoot straighter an'further. This hyar mold war give ter me by a city hunter I had in myparty when we found it would fit my rifle. I ain't usin' th' old un nomore. Rub a leetle b'ar grease or buffaler tallow on th' patch paper,young man, ter make 'em go down easier. Thar good beaver."
The sun set in a gold and crimson glory, working its magic metamorphosison river, banks, and bottoms, painting the colored cliffs and settingafire the crystals in which their clay was rich. Though usually thescenery along this river at this time of the year was nothing to boastof, there were certain conditions under which it resembled a fairyland.The rolling wavelets bore their changing colors across the glowing waterand set dancing myriad flashes of sunlight; streaks of sunlight reachedin under the trees along the bank and made fairy paths among thetrunks, while the imbedded crystals in the clay bluffs glittered inthousands of pin-points of iridescent flame.
When supper time came around Tom still felt a little reluctant to meetPatience, worried by how she might greet him, although her actionspreceding the fight should have told him that his fears were groundless.To his great relief she met him as graciously as she had before, and asa matter of fact he thought he detected a little more warmth andinterest, but discounted this because he feared that his judgment mightbe biased in his favor by his hopes.
Uncle Joe apparently had forgotten all about the affair and did notrefer to it in any way, confining himself to subjects connected with thegreat southwest highway, its trade, outfitting, the organization of thecaravans, the merchandising at Santa Fe and bits of historical andpersonal incidents, not forgetting to comment on the personality ofArmijo and his arbitrary impost of five hundred dollars on each wagon tocross the boundary, regardless of what its contents might be. Hechuckled over the impost, for the goods which he had sent up toIndependence by an earlier boat had been selected with that tax in mind.He had his own ideas about the payment of the impost, and although hecould not entirely avoid it, he intended to take a great deal of thesting out of it.
He contended that the beating of unlawful duties was not cheating, sinceit was purely a game of one individual outwitting another, one being anarbitrary tyrant who was strongly suspected of pocketing the wagon taxfor his own uses. The only trouble with his philosophy was what it setgoing, for having proved one evasion of tax to be honest it tended to gofarther and justify other evasions which fairly crossed the ethicalboundaries. One of these was the rumored prohibition of Mackinawblankets and the export tax on specie. This last would be something of ahardship, for coin was the best and most easily carried of all mediumsof payment, and the Mexican government, in levying this tax, would tendto force the traders to barter rather than sell their goods. If paymentwere had in specie, the wagons could be disposed of at a fair profit andmules used to pack it back to Missouri. When sewed tightly in rawhidebags it became an unshifting mass by the shrinking of the leather underthe rays of the sun. Some of the traders took mules in exchange fortheir goods which, if they could be safely delivered in the Missourisettlements, would give an additional profit of no mean per centum; butlosses in mules were necessarily suffered on the long return trip, andthe driving, corralling, and guarding of a herd was a task to try thepatience of a saint and the ingenuity of the devil. The Indians wouldtake almost any kind of chances to stampede a herd of mules, and theywere adepts at the game.
Uncle Joe had been over the trail, having gone out with that band ofMissourians who took the first wagons across from Franklin in 1824, andhe had kept in close touch with the New Mexican and Chihuahuan tradeever since. He knew the tricks, and had invented some of his own, whichhe guarded well. For the despotic Armijo he had a vast contempt, whichwas universal among the great majority of the men who knew anything atall about the cruel, conceited, and dishonest Governor of theDepartment of New Mexico. The unfortunate Texan Santa Fe Expedition hadaroused bitter feelings among Americans and Texans against the Mexican,many of them having had friends and relatives in that terrible wintermarch of two thousand miles on foot from Santa Fe to the City of Mexico,which followed so close upon the heart-breaking and disastrous northwardmarch from Texas to a vile betrayal and barbarous treatment. AnythingAmerican or Texas plainsmen could do to hurt or discredit the inhumanpomposity whose rise to power had been through black treachery andcoldly planned murder, would be done with enthusiastic zeal.
At the close of the leisurely eaten meal they went on deck in time tosee the _John Auld_ round the next upstream bend and forge forward, soonstopping, however, to drift past the slowed _Missouri Belle_ while theirpilots exchanged terse information about the channels and snags. The_John Auld_ carried a small cargo of fur packs on her main deck and afew free hunters and trappers on their way to St. Louis to dispose oftheir goods and to outfit anew. By this time the fur of the peltsslipped and the fur taking season was over, but there was always thebuffalo to lure them afield again.
The evening was delightful and hopes ran high for an uninterruptedvoyage. Uncle Joe expressed the belief that the boat would run all nightin view of the favorable weather; Tom demurring on the grounds of therapidly falling river and the blackness of the nights. The boat curvedsharply to avoid a jutting bar and straightened out again. Prompted bysight of some of the passengers who promenaded past them the talk swungto the fur trade in general and to the end of it, which was rapidlybeing brought nearer by the great tide of emigration setting in.Discussions regarding the emigrants and the great Oregon Trail followedas a matter of course and almost before they knew it it was time forPatience to retire, and her companions soon followed her example, UncleJoe foregoing his usual night game.
When morning broke they found that they had sailed nearly all the night,and the boat kept on all day, stopping only at a few landings and totake on wood, of which she burned an amazing quantity. Another night'srun brought them well up the river, but the following day found themtied to a bank, because of adverse weather. In the afternoon, the winddying out, they were on the way again and another night's sail waslooked for. Patience retired earlier than usual and when Tom returnedfrom seeing her safely into her room he found Uncle Joe impatientlywaiting for him.
"Come on, Tom," said the merchant. "I've still got a lot to learn aboutgamblin' an' there ain't much time left to do it in. Let's go back an'see if there's a game runnin'. I might as well let somebody else pay th'expenses of this trip."
Tom nodded and followed his companion into the cabin set apart for menand sat down at a table with two trappers, from where he could watch thegame at close range, for he realized that the time for the gamblers toget the merchant's money also was getting short. Under the conditionsalmost anything might occur and he felt that he owed a debt to hisfriend for the part he had played during the fight with Schoolcraft.
Uncle Joe joined Stevens and a companion, who were idly playing and whoseemed to be impatiently and nervously waiting for his appearance; soona tense game was in progress. At a table in a corner from where theplayers could be closely watched Ephriam Schoolcraft, his face stillbadly bruised, was talking in sullen undertones to the little Mexicanand another companion, while hunters, traders, trappers, and men ofvarious other callings kept up a low hum of conversation throughout thecabin.
From one group came fragments of fur trade gossip: "Th' American FurCompany's talkin' about abandonin' Fort Van Buren. Thar's been a lot o'posts let go to grass th' last two years. Th' business ain't what it wasten year ago."
"On th' other hand," replied a companion, "Fox an' Livingston air goin'fer to put up a post at th' mouth o' th' Little Bighorn, which evens upfer Van Buren; an' Chardon's aimin' fer to put one up at th' mouth o'th' Judith. Th' trade's all right, only th' American's got more buckin'agin' it."
"'Tain't what it onct was, though," said a third trader. "Thar's toomany posts an' private parties. Ye can't go nowhere hardly in th' Injuncountry without comin' slap up ag'in a post o' some kind. Thar's Zack:hey, Zack! Come over hyar!"
Zack, a mountain hunter and a free one, swung over and joined the group.
"Jest been palaverin' with some Canucks," he said. "Fur's I could gitth' hang o' thar parley-vouz thar goin' up ter help open Fort William,at th' mouth o' th' Yallerstun, fer Fox an' Livingston. They sez Prattean' Cabanne had took over Fort Platte, up nigh th' Laramie. How fur yegoin' on this packet, Smith?"
"Bellevue," answered Smith. "I'm headin' up th' Platte a-ways, if th'danged Pawnees let me git past. Pardner's waitin' near th' mouth with abullboat. Reckon we kin count on enough water, this time o' year, ferter float _that_; 'though I shore ain't bettin' on it," he chuckled.
Zack laughed. "Th' Platte shore comes close ter bein' all shadder an' nosubstance. Dangest stream _I_ ever seen, an' I've seen a-plenty."
"Don't think a hull lot o' that country, nohow," said a third. "ThemPawnees air th' worst thieves an' murderers this side o' th' Comanchees.They kin steal yer shirt without techin' yer coat, danged if they can't.Blast 'em, I _know_ 'em!"
Zack laughed shortly. "They ain't no-whar with th' Crows when it comester stealin'," he averred.
Smith chuckled again. "Yer right, Zack. He's pizen set ag'in 'em eversence they stole his packs an' everythin' that wasn't a-hangin' ter him.'Twarn't much o' a walk he had, though, only a couple hundred miles."
"Ye kin bet I'm pizen ag'in 'em sence then," retorted the Pawnee-hat
ervehemently. "If I tuk scalps I could show ye somethin'. They've paid alot fer what they stole that time."
From another group came the mention of a name which took Tom's instantattention.
"I hears Ol' Jim Bridger's quit tradin' in furs as a reg'lar thing,"said the voice. "They say he's gone in fer tinkerin' an' outfittin' upnigh Teton Pass. Got a fust rate post too, they say."
"Tinkerin' what?" demanded a listener. "What kin he outfit 'way upthar?"
"Emigrants!" snorted the first speaker. "Figgers on sellin' 'em suppliesan' sich, an' repairin' fer 'em at his smithy. I shore reckon they'llneed him a hull lot more'n he'll need them. That's a long haul ferwagons, tenderfeet's 'spacially--Independence ter th' Divide--'though itain't what it was when Hunt an' Crooks went out thirty year ago."
"No, 'tain't," replied a third man. "An' it's a lucky thing fer th'tenderfeet that Nat Wyeth went an' built Fort Hall whar he did, even if'twas fer th' Hudson Bay. I'm tellin' ye these hyar emigrants would bestayin' ter home from Oregon an' Californy if 'twarn't fer what ustrappers has did fer th' country. Thar ain't nary a trail that we didn'tlocate fer 'em."
The first man nodded. "Not mentionin' th' Injuns afore us, we found tharroads, passes, an' drinkin' water fer 'em; an' now thar flockin' in terspile our business. One thing, though, thar goin' straight acrost, moston 'em. It could be a hull lot worse."
While Tom's ears caught bits of the conversation roundabout his eyespaid attention to the gambling table and on two occasions he half arosefrom his chair to object profanely to the way Stevens played; but eachtime he was not quite sure. On the third occasion one of the trappersglanced at him, smiled grimly, and nodded at the hard-pressed gambler.
"Th' fur trade ain't th' only skin game, young feller," he softly said."Ol' man a friend o' yourn?"
Tom nodded and watched more closely, and a moment later he stiffenedagain.
"Why, h--l!" growled the trapper, sympathizing with one of his owncalling. "Go fur him, young feller, an' chuck him inter th' river! I'llhold off his pardner fer ye!"
An older trapper sauntered over and seated himself at Tom's side. "Beenwatchin' them fer quite a spell," he said in a low voice. "Ain't thatol' feller St Louis Joe?"
Tom shrugged his shoulders, and saw a great light. Who hadn't heard ofSt. Louis Joe? His new friend's love of gambling, and his successagainst Stevens and his crowd would be accounted for if the trapper wasright. He glanced at the speaker and replied: "Don't know. I never sawhim till I crossed th' levee at St. Louis jest afore we sailed."
"Looks a heap like him, anyhow," muttered the newcomer. "Fair an' squar,_he_ war. I seen him play when I war goin' down to N'Orleans, ten yearago. Never fergit a face, an' I shore remember _his_, fer he war playin'that time fer 'most all th' money in th' Mississippi Valley, I reckon.Consarn it, I _know_ it's him! Fer ol' times' sake, if he gits intertrouble with that skunk, I'm with him ter th' hilt." He started to leavethe table, thought better of it and slid forward to the edge of hischair. "He's bein' cheated blind. I saw that skunk palm a card!"
Tom nodded, his hand resting on his belt, but he did not take his eyesfrom the game. He suspected that Uncle Joe was pretty well informedabout what was going on and would object when it suited him.
The first trapper leaned over the table and whispered to his friend."This young feller is watchin' the cheat, an' I'm watchin' th' pardner.You might keep an eye on that Independence hoss-thief over thar--thatfeller with th' raw meat face, that _this_ youngster gave him. From th'way he's lookin' thar ain't no tellin' how this hyar party is goin' terbust up."
The second plainsman nodded and after a moment dropped his pipe on thefloor. He shifted in his chair as he reached down for it and when he satup again he was in a little different position, and not a thing atSchoolcraft's table escaped his eyes.
"I'll take th' greaser 'longside him," muttered the third plainsman."W'ich is a plain duty an' a pleasure. Bet ye a plew I nail him atweenhis eyes, fust crack, if he gits hostile."
Suddenly there came a loud smack as Uncle Joe's left hand smashed downon the cards in Stevens' hand, holding them against the table while hisright hand flashed under the partly buttoned edge of his long frockcoat. It hung there, struggling with something in the inside pocket.Stevens had jerked his own hand loose, relinquishing the cards, and withthe sharp motion a small, compact percussion pistol slid out of hissleeve and into his grasp as his hand stopped. He was continuing themotion, swinging the weapon up and forward when Tom, leaning suddenlyforward in his chair, sent his heavy skinning knife flashing through theair. The first trapper had thrown a pistol down on the gambler'spartner, the second stopped Ephriam Schoolcraft's attempted draw againstTom, and the third plainsman was peering eagerly along the barrel of hispistol at a spot between the Mexican's eyes. Had it been a wellrehearsed act things could not have happened quicker or smoother.
Not five other persons in the cabin had any intimation of what wascoming until Tom's knife, flying butt first through the air, knockedthe pistol from Stevens' hand. The weapon struck the floor and exploded,the bullet passing through a cabin window. As the knife left his handthe thrower had leaped after it and he grabbed the desperate gambler ina grip against which it was useless to struggle. Uncle Joe, looseninghis hold on the pocket pistol tangled in the lining of his coat, leapedaround the table and quickly passed his hands over the clothing of theprisoner.
"What's th' trouble here?" demanded the quick, authoritative voice ofthe captain as he ran in from the deck. "Who fired that shot, an' why?"
He soon was made familiar with the whole affair and stepped to thetable, picked up the cards and spread them for everyone to see. Asking afew questions of disinterested eye-witnesses, he looked about the cabinand spoke.
"I've nothing to say about gambling on this boat as long as gentlemenplay," he said sharply. "When the play is crooked, _I_ take a hand. Ican't overlook this." He motioned to the group of boat hands crowdingabout the door and they took hold of Stevens and his partner. "Takethese men and get their effects, and then put them ashore in the yawl.I'll have provisions put aboard while you're gone. Stevens, due southnot many miles is the St. Louis-Independence wagon road. It is heavilytraveled this time of the year. You can't miss it. Besides that thereare numerous cabins scattered about the bottoms, and not far upstream isa settlement. Take 'em away." Glancing over the cabin again and lettinghis eyes rest for a moment on Ephriam Schoolcraft, he wheeled andstarted for the door, but paused as he reached it. "If there's anyfurther trouble I'll be on the hurricane deck, for'rd. We're going torun all night if we can. I don't want any more disturbance on thispacket."
As the captain left, Uncle Joe thanked Tom and the trappers and joinedthem at their table, providing the refreshment most liked by theplainsmen, and the reminiscences became so interesting that the littlegroup scarcely noticed Tom arise and leave it. He was too restless tostay indoors and soon found a place to his liking on the deck below,near the bow, where he paced to and fro in the darkness, wrestling witha tumult of hopes and fears. Reaching one end of his beat, he wheeledand started back again, and as he passed the cabin door he suddenlystopped and peered at the figure framed in the opening, and tore off hishat, too surprised to speak.
"Mr. Boyd?" came a soft, inquiring, and anxious voice.
"Yes, Miss Cooper; but I thought you were fast asleep long ago!"
"I was," she replied; "but something that sounded like a shot awakenedme, and thinking that it seemed to come from the card tables, I becamefearful and dressed as hurriedly as I could in the dark. Is--is UncleJoe--all right?"
"In good health, good company, and in the best of spirits," replied Tom,smiling at how the last word might be interpreted. "I left him only amoment ago, swapping tales with some trappers."
"But the shot. Surely it _was_ a shot that awakened me?"
Tom chuckled. "Sleeve pistol fell to the floor and went offaccidentally," he explained. "Luckily no one was hurt, for the ballpassed out of a window and went over the river. Are you warm enough?Th
is wind is cutting." At her assent he took a step forward. "I'll seeyou to your room if you wish."
"I'm too wide awake now to sleep for awhile," she replied, joining him."Didn't the boat stop?"
"Yes; two passengers went ashore in the yawl," he answered. "Thesepackets are certainly accommodating and deserve patronage. Why, MissCooper, you're shivering! Are you sure you are warm enough?"
"Yes," she answered. "Something is bothering me. I don't know what itis. I wish we were at Independence though. Day and night this riverfascinates me and almost frightens me. It is so swift, so treacherous,so changeful. It reminds me of some great cat, slipping through ajungle; and I can't throw the feeling off. If you don't mind, I'll joinyou in your sentry-go, you seem to give me the assurance I lack; butperhaps I'll interfere with your thoughts?"
"Hardly that," he laughed, thrilling as she took his arm for safetyagainst stumbles in the dark. "You stimulate them, instead. I really waspacing off a fit of restlessness; but it's gone now. Look here; I wonderif you fully realize the certain hardships and probable dangers of theoverland journey you are about to make?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Boyd," she answered, quietly. "You'll find me adifferent person on land. I underestimate nothing, but hope for thebest. From little things I've picked up here and there I really believethat the dangers of the trail will be incidental when compared withthose at the other end--at Santa Fe. I have reason to believe thatfather has had a great deal of trouble, along with other Americans, withGovernor Armijo. Why is it that American citizens are insulted withimpunity by Mexican officials? I understand that an Englishman maysafely travel from one end of Mexico to the other, secure fromannoyance, unless it be at the hands of Indians over whom the governmentexercises but little control."
"It's a universal complaint along the frontier," he replied. "It seemsto be the policy of this country to avoid hurting the sensibilities ofany vicious officialdom or ignorant populace. We seem to prefer to haveour citizens harassed, insulted, and denied justice, rather than assertunequivocally that the flag goes in spirit with every one of us so longas we obey the laws of any country we are in. If it were not for thebanding together of the American traders and merchants in Santa Fe, itwould be very hazardous for an American to remain there. Armijo has hada few clashes with our people and is beginning to have a little respectfor their determination and ability to defend their rights. Since thesufferings of the Texans have become known, there are any number ofAmericans in frontier garb who would cheerfully choke him to death. Itwould be a godsend to the New Mexican people if----"
There came a terrific crash, the boat stopped suddenly and the deckarose under their feet as a huge log smashed up through it. They weretorn apart and thrown down, and as Tom scrambled to his feet, callinghis companion's name, he felt a great relief surge through him as heheard her answer.