Part 15 (2/2)
”I was a little afraid that I might become lonesome on this long journey; but things have turned out splendidly. Don't you think Dr.
Whiting has a very distinguished air?”
”Very; it would distinguish him out of hundreds,” replied Tom, scowling at the timber fringe ahead. ”He is quite impressive when he is silent.
It's a pity he doesn't realize it.”
He turned in the saddle and looked behind. ”What did I say? There comes Hank, with an antelope slung before his saddle. I doubt if the doctor would need the red handkerchief; antelope are notoriously affected by anything curious.”
She turned away and regarded the caravan studiously. ”Isn't every man expected to do his share in the general duties?” she asked.
”Yes; but most of them dodge obligations. When we left Council Grove more than half of the members of the train were friendly to Woodson. By the time we leave Cimarron his friends will be counted on the fingers of your two hands. That is only what he expects, so it won't come as an unpleasant surprise.”
”What is the doctor's party supposed to do?”
”Two of them have been a.s.signed to the rear guard; the other four, to our right flank. They can be excused somewhat because of their greenness. Besides, they only came along for the fun of it. In the college of life they are only freshmen. Its seriousness hasn't sunk in yet. The majority of the s.h.i.+rkers should know better, and have their fortunes, meagre as they may be, at stake. Well, here we are. You don't know how much I've enjoyed our ride. Uncle Joe,” he said as Patience settled into the wagon seat, ”here she is, safe and sound. I'll drop around with some antelope meat by the time you have your fire going.”
”It's been ten years since I've broiled game over a fire,” chuckled the driver. ”I'm anxious to get my hand in again. Thank you, Tom.”
Tom fastened the horse to the rear of the wagon, waved to his friends, and loped ahead toward the nearing creek.
CHAPTER XI
INDIAN COUNTRY
After an enjoyable supper of antelope meat, Hank Marshall drifted over to visit Zeb Houghton and Jim Ogden, and judging from the hilarity resulting from his call, it was very successful. The caravan was now approaching the Indian country and was not very far from the easternmost point where traders had experienced Indian deviltry. Neither he nor his friends were satisfied with the way guard was kept at night, and he believed that a little example was worth a deal of precept. On his way back to his own part of the encampment he dropped over to pay a short visit to some tenderfeet, two of whom were to mount guard that night.
Jim Ogden, sauntering past, discovered him and wandered over to borrow a pipeful of tobacco.
”Wall,” said Ogden, seating himself before the cheerful fire, ”'twon't be long now afore we git inter buffaler country, an' kin eat food as is food. Arter ye sink yer teeth inter fat cow an' chaw a tongue or two, ye'll sh.o.r.e forgit what settlement beef tastes like. That right, Hank?”
”It's sh.o.r.e amazin' how much roast hump ribs a man kin store away without feelin' it,” replied Hank. ”But thar's allus one drawback ter gittin' inter th' buffaler range; whar ye find buffaler ye find Injuns, an' n.o.body kin tell what an Injun's goin' ter do. If they only try ter stampede yer critters yer gittin' off easy. Take a p.a.w.nee war-party, headin' fer th' Comanche or Kiowa country, fer instance. Thar off fer ter steal hosses; but thar primed ter fight. If thar strong enough a caravan'll look good ter 'em. One thing ye want ter remember: if th'
Injuns ain't strong, don't ye pull trigger too quick; as long as yer rifle's loaded thar'll be plumb respectful, but soon's she's empty, look out.”
”I've been expecting to see them before this,” said one of the hosts.
”Wall, from now on mebby ye won't have ter strain yer eyes,” Hank remarked. ”They like these hyar timber fringes, whar they kin sneak right up under yer nose. They got one thing in thar favor, in attackin'
at night; th' tw.a.n.g o' a bowstring ain't heard very fur; but onct ye hear it ye'll never fergit th' sound. Ain't that so, Jim?”
Jim nodded. ”Fer one, I'm keepin' an eye open from now on. Wall, reckon I'll be movin' on.”
”Where do you expect to run into Indians?” asked one of the men near the fire.
Jim paused, half turned and seemed to be reflecting. ”'Most any time, now. Sh.o.r.e ter git signs o' 'em at th' little Arkansas, couple o' days from now. May run inter 'em at Turkey Creek, tomorrow night.”
Hank arose, emptied his pipe, and looked at Jim. ”Jine ye, fur's our fire,” he said, and the two friends strolled away. They had not been gone long when two shadowy figures met and stopped not far from the tenderfeet's fire, and held a low-voiced conversation, none of which, however, was too low to be overheard at the fire.
”How'd'y, Tom.”
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