Part 74 (2/2)

Beside him rode a large man in greasy buckskins, clearly a scout. He was bearded and had a wad of tobacco in his jaw.

”I'm Captain Weaver and this is Dixon, our scout,” the Captain said. ”Where the h.e.l.l do you men think you're taking these cattle?”

”We thought we were headed for Montana,” Augustus said lightly. ”Where are we, Illinois?”

Call was irritated with Gus. He would make a joke.

”No, but you'll wish you were if Red Cloud finds you,” Captain Weaver said. ”You're in the middle of an Indian war, that's where you are.”

”Why in h.e.l.l would anybody think they wanted to take cattle to Montana?” Dixon, the scout, said. He had an insolent look.

”We thought it would be a good place to sit back and watch 'em s.h.i.+t,” Augustus said. Insolence was apt to bring out the comic in him, as Call knew too well.

”We've heard there are wonderful pastures in Montana,” Call said, hoping to correct the bad impression Gus was giving.

”There may be, but you cowpokes won't live to see them,” Dixon said.

”Oh, well,” Augustus said, ”we wasn't always cowpokes. We put in some twenty years fighting Comanches in the state of Texas. Don't these Indians up here fall off their horses like other Indians when you put a bullet or two in them?”

”Some do and some just keep coming,” Captain Weaver said. ”I didn't come over here to talk all morning. Have you men seen any sign?”

”Our scout didn't mention any,” Call said, waving to Deets.

”Oh, you've got a n.i.g.g.e.r for a scout,” Dixon said. ”No wonder you're lost.”

”We ain't lost,” Call said, annoyed suddenly, ”and that black man could track you across the coals of h.e.l.l.”

”And bring you back on a pitchfork, if we asked him to,” Augustus added.

”What makes you think you can say things like that to us?” Captain Weaver said, flus.h.i.+ng with anger.

”Ain't it still a free country?” Augustus asked. ”Who asked you to ride up and insult our scout?”

Deets came loping up and Call asked him if he had seen any Indian sign.

”None between here and the river,” Deets said.

A pale-looking young lieutenant suddenly spoke up.

”I thought they went east,” he said.

”We went east,” Weaver said. ”Where do you think we've been for the last week?”

”Maybe they went farther and faster,” Augustus said. ”Indians usually do. From the looks of those nags you're riding they could probably outrun you on foot.”

”You're a d.a.m.n impertinent man,” Weaver said. ”Those Indians killed a buffalo hunter and a woman, two days ago. Three weeks ago they wiped out a family southeast of here. If you see them you'll wish you'd kept your d.a.m.n beeves in Texas.”

”Let's go,” Call said, abruptly turning his horse.

”We need horses,” Captain Weaver said. ”Ours are about ridden down.”

”Ain't that what I said that you thought was so impertinent?” Augustus remarked.

”I see you've got extras,” Weaver said. ”We'll take 'em. There's a man who sells horses west of Ogallala. You can buy some more there and send the Army a bill.”

”No, thanks,” Call said. ”We like the ones we've got.”

”I wasn't asking,” Weaver said. ”I'm requisitioning your horses.”

Augustus laughed. Call didn't. He saw that the man was serious.

”We need 'em,” Dixon said. ”We've got to protect this frontier.”

Augustus laughed again. ”Who have you protected lately?” he asked. ”All you've told us about are people you didn't protect.”

”I'm tired of talking,” Weaver said. ”Go get the horses, Jim. Take a couple of men and pick out good ones.”

”You can't have any horses,” Call said. ”You have no authority to requisition stock from us.”

”By G.o.d, I'll have those horses or I'll have your hides,” Weaver said. ”Go get 'em, Jim.”

The young lieutenant looked very nervous, but he turned as if to ride over to the herd.

”Hold on, son, the argument ain't over,” Augustus said.

”You'd defy an officer of the U.S. Army?” Weaver asked.

”You're as close to that horse trader in Ogallala as we are,” Call pointed out.

”Yes, but we're going the other way,” Weaver said.

”You were headed this way when you spotted us,” Augustus said. ”When'd you change your mind?”

Dixon, the big scout, was listening to the conversation with contempt in his expression. The contempt was as much for Weaver as for them.

Captain Weaver turned to the young man. ”I gave you an order. These men are all bluff. They're just cowboys. Go get the horses.”

As the young man pa.s.sed, Augustus reached down and caught his bridle.

”If you want them horses, why don't you go get 'em?” he said. ”You're the Captain.”

”I call this treason,” Weaver said. ”You men can be hung for treason.”

Call had been looking over the rest of the troop. Throughout his career in the Rangers he had been bothered by how sluggishly the cavalry performed, and the troop he saw watching the proceedings looked more sluggish than most. Half the men had gone to sleep in their saddles the moment the column stopped, and the horses all looked as if they needed a month off on good gra.s.s.

”How far is Ogallala?” Call asked.

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