Posted by AlOmega on June 12, 1999 at 20:07:04:
CHISHOLM TRAIL
by AlOmega
Chapter 3
Indian Nations
“Damn”, I said coughing and tryin’ to get up at the same time.
“Stay down”, said a female voice while something like a sledge hammer pushed me into the ground
again. When I started to protest, the ‘something’ which proved to be a small female hand, brandished a
knife in my face.
“Better stay down, Sweety. Petra knows what’s going on and you don’t.”
When I started to protest a second time, the brunette hit me across the face - not with an open hand but
a nice roundhouse punch. That got my attention right quick so I shut up. She pushed me down and climbed
on top. Wasn’t a bad feelin even though she was on top. Guess it had been a while since I’d been with
Martha. Smelling her woman scent almost stopped me from hearing.
But those voices were Chickasaw even if I didn’t know the tongue very well. If we weren’t elbowing
deep into the mud on the north side of the River, I figured we’d have been crow bait. It seemed like forever
until the Chickasaw party left. Didn’t know who these people were but figured they had to be better than
Injuns. The brunette finally let me up. I looked down at her and smiled.
“Well, Petra, what are you doing here?’
“I’m not Petra, you fool,” she said with a shake of her dark curls. “She’s over there. I’m Barbara Anne.
We were hunting for bison but never expected to find Indians...”
“Chickasaw.”
“Whatever. We left them alone and expected them to leave us alone.”
Didn’t really notice what she was talkin’ about. And seein Petra didn’t help much. Maybe they spoke
English but Comanch was easier to understand. What were these ‘Bison’ critters? I asked where I was and
that’s when Petra came up to me. She looked me over like I was a piece of shitt. Well she was some sort of
English Lady or somethin’. I never really knew much about that. But Barbara Anne or, ‘Barb’ as she liked
to be called, looked as if I were a piece of meat and she was goin’ to eat me. That bothered me a lot -
although it excited me, too. I explained I was simply a cattleman from Texas taking some of my stock to
Abilene. Didn’t mention much about the drive because I figured not much had really happened. I was more
curious about the two women.
Seems that Lady Petra, along with her husband and child, were ‘touring’ these here United States.
They decided to come to the ‘country where the Alamo was’ having heard about the death of our founding
Texicans. The women had gotten lost from their party. Knew most of the history of the Alamo, Goliad, and
the rest of early Texas history. Were a bit surprised to hear that my grandpa had been at the Alamo, though.
Hell, that was why I’d met old Sam Houston when a kid. I was about eight at the time - about the Spring of
1860. But there wasn’t much to tell so I asked her a few questions.
Barbara Anne had joined the party at St. Louis. She was from some country called Australia. One of
those European countries, I guess. The way she looked, I suspected she was a Lady to - at least from the
way she walked, talked, and all. Her English was better’n mine. She was a right pretty lady. Not quite as
tall as Martha but about the same type of figure. Petra was a bit taller though blond rather than brunette.
Still, when I stood up, I was taller than her. What I didn’t like was that I was responsible, sort of. They had
saved me from the Red by catching my boots and using the horses and ropes to pull me in. Sorta like a fish
on a line, I suspected. Now that I was feeling better, I realized that the Chickasaw really wouldn’t have
harmed any of us. But I just didn’t have the heart to tell them that. Offered to help them find the rest of
their party. They agreed though both were a bit haute about it.
Kinda figured where the party would be bound for but thought I check in with Cap’n Tatum first -
especially since we were on the North side of the Red River. Since the two women had horses, it didn’t take
long to cut the trail. A couple of hours of hard riding brought us to where the cattle had been bedded down
for the night. Figured on a few whistles and catcalls when we came into camp and had told the two women
what to expect. Though Petra remained a bit aloof, Barb sorta liked all the attention. Still when Greg, one
of the trail hands started talkin’ to me about our time alone together and hintin’ that I might have been pokin
one or both of them, I boxed his ears. He got mad but I was ready to have at it when Scott and Cap’n
Tatum got between the both of us. Wasn’t so mad at what he said about Barb or Petra knowin’ he didn’t
mean that. But what he meant suggesting that I would be unfaithful to Martha, was what I was mad at.
Think the women understood. He and I understood, too. Greg had thought, since he and Martha had
growed up together, they’d get married. Had hated me ever since; and, him and I knew it.
Offered to take the ladies to Ft. Worth next day before we went to sleep. Probably nothing more
woulda happened except that early that morning Barb was coming from the bushes and Frank grabbed her.
Surprised her most likely but I knew something he didn’t. She got a couple of slashing cuts at him before he
could back away. We all hurried up to see what the commotion was all about but seeing Frank’s situation,
we couldn’t stop laughing even after Cap’n Tatum got Frank all bandaged up. Figured the guys would be
kidding him after we left.
Was a bit surprised to see the women saddling up. Wasn’t that they weren’t use to rough men but
didn’t think they should be subject to abuse. I’d never thought of us as ‘rough’. But Europeans are a pretty
strange bunch. But they didn’t seem to mind me being with them. Perhaps it was ‘cause I didn’t try
anything. Nothin’ much happened on the way south. Told the ladies about my small ranch and Martha and
the baby. Petra told me some about her ‘Monster’ as she called her child. Like I said, a rather boring trip.
Didn’t take us long to get to Ft. Worth. Askin’ at the better hotel, I found the gents had arrived the day
before. Didn’t take us long to find Petra’s husband. He was organizin’ a group of men to return and track
down his wife - and, if she had been abused or killed, any of the culprits involved. Was rather embarrassed
to have them make over me so much. Sucks, I’d helped lots of people before. But though they offered
money and things, I told them I was not interested. Just figured they would do the same for me if I was hard
up. Told ‘em they woulda made good Texans. Didn’t know if they were embarrassed or not. After all they
were Lords and Ladies. But just felt they might make good neighbors.
While there, checked with Sheriff Ric and Lisa. He was doin’ pretty good. ‘Course with a pretty girl
like Lisa takin’ care of him, I kinda figured he was in the best hands possible. They was thinkin’ ‘bout
gettin’ married. Found that child that had stopped Hardin from finishing him off and were thinkin’ of raising
him. Like I said, I never saw that child again. Rather then cause a ruckus, I left town early the next
morning.
Crossed the Red River on horseback this time. I’d learned my lesson. Met a party of Chickasaw while
catching up with the herd. I gave them a few cigars I’d bought for Cap’n Tatum. They were pleased and
we parted nicely. Like I said, those Chickasaw were pretty friendly.
I knew Cap’n Tatum was pushing for 15 miles a day but figured I’d catch them in a day or two and I did.
Though Greg gave me a rotten stare, everyone else wanted to know what I’d been up to. Sure a few kidded
about the two women and me alone all that time. Still they weren’t serious. Greg had been.
About two days later, Scott woke me. Was my turn to keep company with the cattle. Had been a little
lightning to the northwest but figured it was going to pass us by. Still the critters were skittish. Sometimes
happens with the dumb creatures. My job was to quiet ‘em with a song or two. Didn’t matter if you could
sing a note or not. The sound of your voice - calm, relaxed, as if you weren’t afraid - that quieted the cattle.
Now I might be many things but a singer ain’t one of them. Oh I could sing to the cows and they’d like it.
But if I got too close to the rest of the men.... . Let’s just say that peacocks sounded better.
So I was singing a tune - one of those tunes you hear at square dances except I didn’t know the words -
when I noticed one of the steers cocking an ear and eyein’ me as if ready to jump at the sound of a leaf
fallin’. Began humming another tune quickly which seemed to quiet that one. But another soon began
movin’. This went on for about three hours. The full moon was in the West when I was relieved. Would be
about three more hours ‘til dawn so I thought I’d get a bit of rest. No sooner had I shook out my blanket
then a sound like a rifle shot came from the east. That did it, I thought. But damn if the cattle didn’t simply
ignore it.
Next day was just like any other at first. Afternoon the air became quiet as clouds gathered in the west.
At first it just got dark. But when the sky took on a sickly green, we got rather anxious. Temperature
dropped rapidly and we knew a rainstorm was comin’. Hoped it was nothin’ more. Cap’n Tatum shouted
at Manual to get the drag crew movin’. Figured we’d have to run the herd a bit to out pace the storm. Not
much time before pellets of ice started fallin’. Now I don’t know about you, but bits of ice fallin’ from the
sky can hurt a lot. And when the damn things got larger, I got worried. But the ice didn’t last long. We had
been runnin’ pretty good and now we could slow down. At least we figured we could. I heard a noise like
some fiend from Hell might sound. Turnin’ I saw a spout droppin’ from the sky. Now I was scared. Ice
was one thing; tornadoes were something else. It dropped into the herd and picked up a couple of cows and
Larry as if cullin’ out a maverick. Larry was still on his horse when the two of them were dropped from the
sky like so much rain. Yet before they dropped, an updraft caught them and put ‘em at the front of the herd.
And then the tornado vanished. Through all this, the cattle seemed unconcerned. Of course Larry was so
Cap’n Tatum decided he needed a bit of rest. We all had a good laugh at his expense even though the rain
kept fallin’.
That evening, I was on the north side of the cattle, well away for the men and singin’ the critters to
sleep. The air was wet with water. Was so quiet, I almost dozed off. What woke me was the sound of a
rifle being cocked. But before I could say a word, the sound of rifle fire started the cattle movin’. And they
were movin’ toward me. Buckskin is a pretty fine animal but she’s no racer. Yet with the sound of cattle
runnin’ toward her, she was like lightning. Turning ‘round, we dashed for the north angling to the east.
With any luck, me and Buckskin would make it. My concern was for holes that could catch a runnin’ horse
unaware. Though Buckskin was not my best, I didn’t want to lose her. Luckily, she didn’t stumble. Sorta
wish she had though when a low branch comin’ out of the dark crashed into me causing me to tumble off the
saddle. Almost grabbed her tail but Buckskin in her fright kicked me in the skull. As I passed out, I just
hoped I wouldn’t be trampled to death.
Continued in
Chapter 4
Wichita