Red Saunders: His Adventures West & East

  Produced by Al Haines

  RED SAUNDERS

  His Adventures West & East

  By

  Henry Wallace Phillips

  1901

  CONTENTS

  A CHANCE SHOTA RED-HAIRED CUPIDTHE GOLDEN FORDWHEN THE CHINOOK STRUCK FAIRFIELD

  A Chance Shot

  Reddy and I were alone at the Lake beds. He sat outside the cabin,braiding a leather hat-band--eight strands, and the "repeat"figure--an art that I never could master.

  I sat inside, with a one-pound package of smoking tobacco besideme, and newspapers within reach, rolling the day's supply ofcigarettes.

  Reddy stopped his story long enough to say: "Don't use the'Princess' Slipper,' Kid--that paper burns my tongue--take the'Granger'; there's plenty of it."

  Well, as I was saying, I'd met a lot of the boys up in town thisday, and they threw as many as two drinks into me; I know that forcertain, because when we took the parting dose, I had a glass ofwhisky in both my right hands, and had just twice as many friendsas when I started.

  When I pulled out for home, I felt mighty good for myself--notexactly looking for trouble, but not a-going to dodge it any,either. I was warbling "Idaho" for all I was worth--you know howpretty I can sing? Cock-eyed Peterson used to say it made himforget all his troubles. "Because," says he, "you don't noticetrifles when a man bats you over the head with a two-by-four."

  Well, I was enjoying everything in sight, even a little drizzle ofrain that was driving by in rags of wetness, when a flat-facedswatty at Fort Johnson halted me.

  Now it's a dreadful thing to be butted to death by a nanny-goat,but for a full-sized cowpuncher to be held up by a soldier is worseyet.

  To say that I was hot under the collar don't give you the rightidea of the way I felt.

  "Why, you cross between the Last Rose of Summer and a bobtailedflush!" says I, "what d'yer mean? What's got into you? Get out ofmy daylight, you dog-robber, or I'll walk the little horse aroundyour neck like a three-ringed circus. Come, pull your freight!"

  It seems that this swatty had been chucked out of the third storyof Frenchy's dance emporium by Bronc. Thompson, which threw a greatrespect for our profesh into him. Consequently he wasn't freshlike most soldiers, but answers me as polite as a tin-horn gambleron pay-day.

  Says he: "I just wanted to tell you that old Frosthead and fortybraves are some'ers between here and your outfit, with their warpaint on and blood in their eyes, cayoodling and whoopin' fit tobeat hell with the blower on, and if you get tangled up with them,I reckon they'll give you a hair-cut and shampoo, to say nothing ofother trimmings. They say they're after the Crows, but it's aten-dollar bill against a last year's bird's-nest that they'll takeon any kind of trouble that comes along. Their hearts is mightybad, they state, and when an Injun's heart gets spoiled, thedisease is d--d catching. You'd better stop awhile."

  "Now, cuss old Frosthead, and you too!" says I. "If he comescrow-hopping on my reservation; I'll kick his pantalettes on top ofhis scalp-lock."

  "All right, pardner!" says he. "It's your own funeral. My orderswas to halt every one going through; but I ain't a whole company,so you can have it your own way. Only, if your friends have totake you home in a coal-scuttle, don't blame me. Pass, friend!"

  So I went through the officers' quarters forty miles an hour,letting out a string of yells you might have heard to the coast,just to show my respect for the United States army.

  Now this has always been my luck: Whenever I made a band-wagonplay, somebody's sure to strike me for my licence. Or else theteam goes into the ditch a mile further on, and I come out about ashappy as a small yaller dog at a bob-cat's caucus.

  Some fellers can run in a rhinecaboo that 'd make the hair stand upon a buffeler robe, and get away with it just like a mice; but thatain't me. If I sing a little mite too high in the cellar, downcomes the roof a-top of me. So it was this day. Old JohnnyHardluck socked it to me, same as usual.

  Gosh a'mighty! The liquor died in me after a while, and I wentsound asleep in the saddle, and woke up with a jar--to find myselfright in the middle of old Frosthead's gang; the drums"_boom_-blipping" and those forty-odd red tigers "hyah-hayahing" ina style that made my skin get up and walk all over me with coldfeet.

  How in blazes I'd managed to slip through those Injuns I don'tknow. 'Twould have been a wonderful piece of scouting if I'd meantit. You can 'most always do any darn thing you don't want to do.Well, there I was, and, oh Doctor! but wasn't I in a lovely mess!That war-song put a crimp into me that Jack Frost himself couldn'ttake out.

  It was as dark as dark by this time. The moon just stuck one eyeover the edge of the prairie, and the rest of the sky was coveredwith cloud. A little light came from the Injuns' camp-fire, butnot enough to ride by, and, besides, I didn't know which way Iought to go.

  Says I to myself, "Billy Sanders, you are the champion all-around,old-fashioned fool of the district. You are a jackass from thecountry where ears less'n three foot long are curiosities. Yousassed that poor swatty that wanted to keep you out of this,tooting your bazoo like a man peddling soap; but now it's up toyou. What are you going to do about it?" and I didn't get anyanswer, neither.

  Well, it was no use asking myself conundrums out there in the darkwhen time was so scarce. So I wraps my hankercher around. Laddy'snose to keep him from talking horse to the Injun ponies, andprepared to sneak to where I'd rather be.

  Laddy was the quickest thing on legs in that part of thecountry--out of a mighty spry little Pinto mare by our thoroughbredKentucky horse--and I knew if I could get to the open them Injunswouldn't have much of a chance to take out my stopper and examinemy works--not much. A half-mile start, and I could show the wholeSioux nation how I wore my hair.

  I cut for the place where the Injuns seemed thinnest, liftingmyself up till I didn't weigh fifteen pound, and breathing onlywhen necessary. We got along first-rate until we reached the edgeof 'em, and then Laddy had to stick his foot in a gopher-hole, andwalloped around there like a whale trying to climb a tree.

  Some dam cuss of an Injun threw a handful of hay on the fire, and,as it blazed up, the whole gang spotted me.

  I unlimbered my gun, sent the irons into Laddy, and we began towalk.

  I didn't like to make for the ranch, as I knew the boys wereshort-handed, so I pointed north, praying to the good Lord that I'dhit some kind of settlement before I struck the North Pole.

  Well, we left those Injuns so far behind that there wasn't any funin it. I slacked up, patting myself on the back; and, as thetrouble seemed all over, I was just about to turn for the ranch,when I heard horses galloping, and as the moon came out a little Isaw a whole raft of redskins a-boiling up a draw not half a mileaway. That knocked me slab-sided. It looked like I got the wrongticket every time the wheel turned.

  I whooped it up again, swearing I wouldn't stop this deal short ofa dead sure thing. We flew through space--Laddy pushing a hole inthe air like a scart kiyote making for home and mother.

  A ways down the valley I spotted a little shack sitting all aloneby itself out in the moonlight. I headed for it, hollering murder.

  A man came to the door in his under-rigging.

  "Hi, there! What's eating you?" he yells.

  "Injuns coming, pardner! The country's just oozing Injuns! Betterget a wiggle on you!"

  "All right--slide along, I'll ketch up to you," says he.

  I looked back and saw him hustling out with his saddle on his arm."He's a particular kind of cuss," I thought; "bareback would suitmost people."

  Taking it a little easier for the next couple of miles, I gave hima chance to pull up.

  We
pounded along without saying anything for a spell, when Ihappened to notice that his teeth were chattering.

  "Keep your nerve up, pardner!" says I. "Don't you getscared--we've got a good start on 'em."

  He looked at me kind of reproachful.

  "Scared be derned!" says he. "I reckon if you was riding aroundthis nice cool night in your drawers, _your_ teeth 'ud rattle some,too."

  I took a look at him, and saw, sure enough, while he had hat, coat,and boots on, the pants was missing. Well, if it had been the lastact, I'd have had to laugh.

  "Couldn't find 'em nohow," says he; "hunted high and low, jick,Jack, and the game--Just comes to my mind now that I had 'em rolledup and was sleeping on 'em. I don't like to go around this way'--Ifeel as if I was two men, and one of 'em hardly respectable."

  "Did you bring a gun with you?"

  He gave me another stare. "Why, pardner, you must think I have gota light and frivolous disposition," says he, and with that heheaves up the great-grand-uncle of all the six-shooters I ever didsee. It made my forty-five-long look like something for a kid tocut its teeth on. "That's the best gun in this country," he wenton.

  "Looks as if it might be," says I. "Has the foundry that cast itgone out of business? I'd like to have one like it, if it's asdangerous as it looks."

  "When I have any trouble with a man," says he, "I don't want to gopecking at him with a putty-blower, just irritating him, and givinghim a little skin complaint here and there; I want somethingthat'll touch his conscience."

  He had it, for a broadside from that battery would scatter anelephant over a township.

  We loped along quiet and easy until sun-up. The Grindstone Butteslay about a mile ahead of us. Looking back, we saw the Injunscoming over a rise of ground 'way in the distance.

  "Now," says my friend, "I know a short cut through those hillsthat'll bring us out at Johnson's. They've got enough punchersthere to do the United States army up--starched and blued. Shallwe take it?"

  "Sure!" says I. "I'm only wandering around this part of thecountry because this part of the country is here--if it wasanywheres else I'd be just as glad."

  So in we went. It was the steepest and narrowest kind of a canon,looking as if it had been cut out of the rock with one crack of theaxe. I was just thinking: "Gee whiz! but this would be a poorplace to get snagged in," when bang! says a rifle right in front ofus, and m-e-arr! goes the bullet over our heads.

  We were off them horses and behind a, couple of chunks of rocksooner than we hoped for, and that's saying a good deal.

  "Cussed poor shot, whoever he is," says my friend. "Some Injunholding us here till the rest come up, I presume."

  "That's about the size of it--and I'd like to make you a bet thathe does it, too, if I thought I'd have a chance to collect."

  "Oh, you can't always tell--you might lose your money," says he,kind of thoughtful.

  "I wouldn't mind that half as much as winning," says I. "But onthe square, do you think we can get out? I'll jump him with you ifyou say so, although I ain't got what you might call a passion forsuicide."

  "Now you hold on a bit," says he. "I don't know but what we'd havedone better to stick to the horses, and run for it, but it's toolate to think of that. Jumping him is all foolishness; he'd sitbehind his little rock and pump lead into us till we wouldn't floatin brine--and we can't back out now."

  He talked so calm it made me kind of mad. "Well," says I, "in thatcase, let's play 'Simon says thumbs up' till the rest of the crowdcomes."

  "There you go!" says he. "Just like all young fellers--gettin'hosstyle right away if you don't fall in with their plans. Now,Sonny, you keep your temper, and watch me play cushion carroms withour friend there."

  "Meaning how?"

  "You see that block of stone just this side of him with the squareface towards us? Well, he's only covered in front, and I'm a-goingto shoot against that face and ketch him on the glance."

  "Great, if you could work it!" says I. "But Lord!"

  "Well, watch!" says he. Then he squinched down behind his cover,so as not to give the Injun an opening, trained his cannon andpulled the trigger. The old gun opened her mouth and roared likean earthquake, but I didn't see any dead Injun. Then twice moreshe spit fire, and still there weren't any desirable corpses to behad.

  "Say, pardner," says I, "you wouldn't make many cigars at thisgame!"

  "Now, don't you get oneasy," says he. "Just watch!"

  "_Biff_!" says the old gun, and this time, sure enough, the Injunwas knocked clear of the rock. I felt all along that he wouldn'tbe much of a comfort to his friends afterwards, if that gun didland on him.

  Still, he wasn't so awful dead, for as we jumped for the horses hekind of hitched himself to the rock, and laying the rifle acrossit, and working the lever with his left hand, he sent a hole plumbthrough my hat.

  "Bully boy!" says I. I snapped at him, and smashed the lock of hisrifle to flinders. Then, of course, he was our meat.

  As we rode up to him, my pard held dead on him. The Injun stood upstraight and tall, and looked us square in the eye--say, he was aman, I tell you, red-skin or no red-skin. The courage just stuckout on him as he stood there, waiting to pass in his checks.

  My pardner threw the muzzle of his gun up. "D--n it!" says he, "Ican't do it--he's game from the heart out! But the Lord have mercyon his sinful soul if he and I run foul of each other on theprairie again!"

  Then we shacked along down to Johnson's and had breakfast.

  "What became of Frosthead and his gang?" Oh, they sent out aregiment or two, and gathered him in--'bout twenty-five soldiers toan Injun. No, no harm was done. Me and my pard were the only onesthat bucked up against them. Chuck out a cigarette, Kid; my lungsache for want of a smoke.