“Then you better get after him now,” says Thaddeus. “A trail can get mighty cold if you leave it till morning.”
“I am not a native, Mr. Winterbough. I do not have the ability to track by moonlight.”
“You don’t? Then I’ll go along with you. I got eyes like a hawk, even in the dark.”
“Your job is to guide the train, Mr. Winterbough,” says the colonel, “not assist in the capture of runaway niggers. We are pulling out at first light.”
“We’ll be back by then. He ain’t got but a half-hour’s start on us. How does it suit you, Barrett?”
“I accept, thank you.”
“Well straddle your nag and let’s go.”
“One moment. First I must place Finn under guard. Colonel, will the officer in charge of the fort cooperate in this?”
“I believe he will, yes,” says the colonel.
“Very well. Will you accompany me while I deliver Finn into the hands of the military?”
“I will, and gladly. We have no facilities for detention in the train.”
“Then I suggest we do it immediately. Mr. Winterbough, would you kindly wait for me with both our horses at the fort gates. I will be inside for as brief a time as possible.”
“I’ll be waiting,” says Thaddeus.
So the colonel and Bulldog Barrett marched me along to the fort and hammered on the gate good and loud, and the sentry hollers down:
“Who goes there?”
“Colonel Naismith and Chauncey Barrett with a prisoner.”
“What prisoner?” the sentry asks.
“An escaped murderer from Missouri,” says Barrett.
“Is he an Injun?” the sentry wants to know.
“No, white.”
“Well, all right then. Bring him in, only we don’t allow Injuns in after dark.”
The gates got hauled open and they marched me across the quadrangle between them and told a soldier they wanted to see Colonel Tranter urgent. I got took into the colonel’s office and Barrett give him the story and was backed up by Colonel Naismith, and Colonel Tranter says it’s fine with him if they want to put me in the guardhouse, which is what they call a prison cell in the army.
It turned out to be a little log cabin set off in a corner of the fort walls, and they put me in and padlocked the door then went away. It was discouraging. There’s a bunk and I sat on it to do some figuring. Thaddeus was fixing to take the bulldog on a wild goose chase south for most of the night, but I’m danged if I can see how it’s going to get me out of here. Maybe Thaddeus reckoned Colonel Naismith would just keep me in his tent till they get back, and never figured on them putting me inside the fort. Well, he done his best. At least Jim got away. That was kind of worrisome too, on account of Jim was never before on his own out in the wilderness, and he’s proberly right this minute wondering what to do next. A nigger on his own ain’t like a white man the same way, because wherever he goes and whoever he tries to team up with they won’t want him along, not a nigger. It was stretching fancy to believe he’d make it to California without me, and pretty soon I got more worried about Jim than me, which ain’t sensible, so I turned my head onto my own problem, namely how to get out.
The guardhouse was built solid and the door padlocked like I say. Making a hole in the roof slates was a possible, but there ain’t any way I can reach up that high. There’s no windows and no lamp to set fire to the place, so I’m stranded in there.
About an hour went by, then the padlock rattled and the door opened and in come Grace carrying a lighted candle. I never reckernized her at first on account of the scoop shovel bonnet she’s got on, which hid her face inside a kind of cloth tube poking out front. A soldier with her says:
“Five minutes, miss.”
“Thank you,” she says, and when she heard his footsteps go away she tore off the bonnet and looked her old self again. But she never stopped there; next thing I seen she’s popping her buttons and wriggling out of her dress like there’s ants in her bloomers.
“Quick!” she says. “Change clothes with me!”
“What for, Grace?”
“So you’ll look like me, addle-pate. Hurry!”
“But I feel right at home inside britches, Grace. I’d feel foolish with a dress around me.”
“It’s so you can escape, stupid,” she says. “With the bonnet on they’ll never see it’s you and you can just walk out the gate free.”
“Escape?” says I. “You’re fixing to help me escape?”
“It’s obvious to anyone but a halfwit. Get out of those pants directly.”
I turned my back and was soon just in my long johns, and Grace flung the dress over me and crammed the bonnet on my head and tied it under my chin, all the while stood there in front of me in just her unmentionables. They was all over frills and ribbons, and never covered her arms at all. I seen them from fingers to shoulders, and they’re white and soft-looking and kind of shapely. I never pay no attention to arms generally, but Grace’s just begged to be stared at, and while I stared she fetched a couple of pairs of socks out of her pockets, all folded and bundled, and stuffed them down my chest to make me look womanish. It was mighty embarrassing I can tell you. Then I seen the flaw in the plan.
“Wait on, Grace, when they come to get me they’ll find you here and know you made a swap with me of your own free choosing without I tie you up, and there ain’t no rope in here. They won’t like it, Grace.”
“Do you think I’d do this without a good plan?” she says, pulling on my shirt and britches. “I’ll give myself a knock on the head against the wall, just enough to raise a bruise, then after a half-hour or so I’ll start to scream and yell until the soldiers come running and I’ll say you made a vicious attack and hit me unconscious and traded clothes to escape. That way I’m just a other victim of the mean and desperate Huck Finn and they’ll all feel sorry for me.”
“It’s a dandy plan, Grace, and I’m obliged forever.”
“Fiddle-de-dee,” she says, tucking her hair up under my hat so she’ll look like me. In daylight it never would of worked, but that candle only give off a feeble glow so there’s a chance the plan will get me free. Says Grace:
“Jim is waiting for you down on the riverbank where the steamboat was this morning. He has horses and supplies thanks to your friend Mr. Winterbough.”
“I reckon I’m grateful to Thaddeus too, but you’re the one that’s taking the biggest risk, Grace.”
“We swore an oath of eternal friendship just the other day,” she says, sitting on the bunk. “What good is an eternal friend if he’s hanging on a rope?”
“That’s true, Grace, but how did you get in to see me?”
“It was simple. All I had to do was go to the man in charge of the fort and beg to see my little friend Jeff Trueblood and say goodbye. He wouldn’t let me at first, but I cried all over his desk and he changed his mind. It’s so easy to make men do what I want.”
I reckon Colonel Tranter would of give any other woman a handkerchief and showed her the door, but not Grace. She could twist a man around her finger without hardly trying. Says I:
“Was it Thaddeus told you what happened?”
“No, it was Jim. He came to me and … Here comes the guard!” she hisses. “Act like you’re me, and lift the hem when you walk so you don’t trip over.”
“I ain’t ever going to be able to repay you, Grace.…”
“Shhhhh.…”
The padlock rattled and Grace lay on the bunk with her face to the wall like she’s asleep. The door opened and the soldier poked his head in.
“Time’s up, miss,” he says to me.
“Thank you,” says I all squeaky voiced, and picked up the candle and took a last look at Grace. The soldier says:
“Ain’t he in a talking mood?”
“No,” squeaks I. “He’s got a fit of the sulks and won’t speak a word after I went to all this trouble.”
“Well, that’s murderers for you. If it’s any
comfort to you we never gave him no supper.”
“I’m gratified to hear it. I never should of bothered to come see him, but a girl hates to have her friends took away without a goodbye. I guess I’m just a sentimentalist.”
“A pretty gal like you oughtn’t to waste her feelings on trash like that,” he says.
“Well I reckon I’ve learned a lesson,” says I, and walked out the door. Soon as I’m outside I blowed out the candle to be safe and the soldier fixed the padlock then started walking me to the gate. It was troublesome to see where I’m going with all that bonnet stood out ahead of me, like looking down a tunnel, but it hid my face good, which means the soldier is only hopeful when he calls me pretty. He says:
“It’s the first time we ever had a murderer in the guardhouse, miss. Mostly it’s insubordination and such, and not all that often, neither.”
“This will be a night for you to remember, sir,” squeaks I.
“That it is,” he says, and when we got to the gate he unbarred it and swung it open all on his own to show me how strong he is.
“Will you be wanting an escort back to your wagon, miss?” he says, full of expecteration.
“I reckon not, but thank you kindly anyway. May I ask your name?”
“Corporal McIntyre, miss.”
“Well I’ll be mentioning your name to Colonel Tranter if I see him again to tell how much of a gentleman you are.”
“It ain’t necessary, miss. I’m just doing a soldier’s job. You sure about not wanting no escort?”
“It’s just a step away,” says I. “Thank you and goodnight.”
“Goodnight, miss,” he says, none too happy, and I stepped through the gate free and he slammed it behind me. Just in case the sentry is watching from above I set off for the train, but when I figured I’m out of eye-reach I doubled back around the fort till I hit the Platte and worked my way along the bank to where Jim’s waiting with the horses. He give me my rifle and says:
“We ain’t got time for talkin’, Huck. Thaddeus say we got to cross de river an’ go north. What you reckon on it?”
“It’s as good a plan as any right now, Jim,” says I, and hitched up my skirts and clumb aboard. We edged the horses into the shallows, then into deeper water till they started swimming. We slid out of the saddles and hung onto their manes, me with my Hawken held over my head to keep it dry, which is some trick and mighty straining, then we’re in the shallows on the far shore and mounted up again. The air was thick as molasses by now and way off yonder there’s a rumbling and a grumbling of thunder and sometimes a flash of lightning.
We aimed due north and started riding, slow at first so no one at the fort suspicioned galloping hoofs, then cantering when we’re a mile or so from the river. The country was wide open ahead of us and big enough to lose a hundred armies in, so we dug in our heels and headed into it, just eating up the miles till the horses got winded and we had to slow down, which give us the chance to talk. Jim told how Thaddeus warned him and helped him steal the horses, and how when he learned I’m in the fort guardhouse he figured there’s only one person to help get me out, which is Grace. Trading clothes was her idea and it put her in the Tom Sawyer class for smartness. I told how I lost the money belt, so now all we got is my rifle and the horses. Jim felt bad about stealing them but I reckon the colonel will pay the owner out of my money belt fair and square.
“Thaddeus say de bes’ plan is headin’ up to Canada.”
“Canada? Why, that’s an awful cold place to be, Jim. That ain’t going to suit us at all.”
“Where else we goin’ to go, Huck? We cain’t go back east, das for sure, an’ de bulldog gone south to get me back, an’ he knows we was headed west befo’ he catched up. North de onliest place lef’ as I can see.”
“I’ll give it some considering. For now we can just keep headed the way we are.”
So that’s what we done, and all the while the storm come rolling our way from up ahead, stirring the air and moving it against our faces. It swallered the stars with black thunderheads all twisting and changing shape around the edges like ink poured across the sky till there warn’t nothing overhead but darkness and thunder that boomed and crashed, one boom sliding right into another continual, and along with it come lightning bolts tearing out of the clouds and jabbing down at the plains, so bright it hurt your eyes like the thunder hurt your ears, flicker flashing and crookedy and lighting up the country for miles around.
Then come the rain, and it rained rivers. I never seen the like of it, just pouring down solid as a waterfall till we was both soaked to the skin. I knowed my Hawken warn’t nothing but a lightning rod in my hand, all that iron just begging to get struck by lightning, but I warn’t about to leave it behind so I held on and run the risk, and the dangersomeness and the noise and flashing light and being free again give me a sudden rush of blood to the head and I let out a whoop and went tearing across the plains howling like a dog with a crawfish on his tail. My horse got crazed witless by it all and tore along like a cannonball with me hanging on for life and my skirts streaming out behind and snapping in the wind like a flag in a gale. Jim must of figured I went mad and come thundering along behind bawling out my name and hollering to slow down, but I never wanted to, not with the wind whipping my bonnet back and my heartbeat pounding in my head along with galloping hoofs and crashing thunder and lashing rain and death reaching out for me every time lightning come snaking down from above. It was the excitingest thing I ever had the experience of, and when the horses got winded and slowed up I could feel the thrill of it slipping away fast till it’s just a trickle, then nothing.
The thunder and lightning passed us by but the rain stayed, hours of it bucketing down on our heads. All we could do is plod along through it, cold and hungry and miserable, drawing a smidgin of comfort from knowing at least our tracks has been washed away behind us. Finally the rainclouds passed and the stars come out again. We watched them turn above us, whole clusters moving slow and majestical as the hours rolled by, then they faded away as the sky got pale and we seen the eastern horizon stretched away on our right, wide and flat and going on forever. It got lighter and lighter and the sun come up real slow, piece by piece till it’s all showing and warn’t we just grateful for the warmth. Along about midmorning we was near enough dried out to quit shivering and decide what to do. Says I:
“Jim, I been thinking considerable hard and I made a choice. We’re going on to California.”
“You addled, Huck? Das perzacly where de bulldog goin’ to be lookin’.”
“Maybe not. Chances are he’ll figure we done just what we’re doing and head north looking for us. He’s a smart man and plenty educated, only he thinks I ain’t nothing but an animal fit to be hunted. Well, I aim to prove he’s wrong on that. If we do what he reckons is the last thing we’d do we’ll get away and he can chase his nose clear to Canada.”
“I ain’t so sure ’bout dat, Huck. An’ don’ forget your Pap is somewheres ahead of us if’n we goes west. You don’ wanter go bumpin’ into him, I reckon.”
“There’s a heap of space out there that makes bumping into folks hard, so I figure we can take a chance on Pap. Lookit, Jim; we both of us are criminals, like it or not, and criminals leads poorly lives unless they’re rich, and seeing as the only way for us to get rich that ain’t unlegal is finding gold then that’s what we got to do. I made up my mind on it. You can come along or not.”
We rode on awhile, then he says:
“I ain’t happy wid dis, Huck, but I reckon I’m comin’ too.”
“Well I’m glad. It wouldn’t turn out half so adventuresome without a friend along.”
So we turned the horses and headed them west with the sun behind us and was California-bound still, bulldog or not.
15
Captured by Injuns—Amazing Revelations—Hunger and Madness—Miracle in a Tepee—The Buffalo Hunt—An Unfortunate Encounter
The Platte don’t run directly east-west but meanders n
orth some and we run up against it on the third day. It was too close to the wagon route on the far side so we shied away from it and kept it a day’s ride off after that. The weather stayed clear and fine and we ambled along easy. We never had no supplies but I brung down rabbits and birds with the Hawken so we never starved. We was happy being alone together again just like old times, and we went on like that for six days. On the seventh day God rested, but me and Jim run into Injuns.
There was five of them camped down in a little creek that run south to join the Platte. We never seen them hid among the willow trees till we got close, then they come dashing at us on their ponies. They rode around us in circles a time or two then edged in close. Jim says:
“What we goin’ to do, Huck? Dey lookin’ mighty interested.”
“Just keep still and look friendly.”
They never had no guns, just bows and lances, and they eyed my rifle greedy-like. I could see they was wary too, scared I might use it, but I warn’t about to, not being the hostile kind. I would of got riddled with arrows after one shot anyway. They talked Injun talk among theirselfs and pointed at my dress, likely wondering what a woman is doing with a gun, but they pointed at Jim even more and it’s clear they never seen a nigger before. Finally one of them got the gumption to reach out and touch him to see if he’s real, and when it turned out he is the whole bunch commenced to touching his face and hands and hair, looking perplexified about it. We never told them it ain’t polite to behave that way and they got up boldness. One of them snatched my Hawken out of my hand before I could stop him, so then we was helpless. They talked some more then grabbed our reins and took us along with them at a fast gallop across the plains, and there warn’t a thing we could do about it.
In the afternoon they brung us to a shallow dip in the land and there’s a whole Injun village laid out there with tepees by the dozen and Injuns by the hundred. The leader of them that captured us led the way in, singing some kind of song loud as he can to make folks take notice. The racket he made would of drove away a dog, but it must of sounded better to Injuns than it done to me because a heap of them gathered around and pointed. The women and babies was all mighty frightened of Jim and some even hollered out loud when they laid eyes on him. He says: