Calamity Jane 4 by J.T. Edson

Author:J.T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical ebook, calamity jane, the old west, western series, piccadilly publishing, jt edson, best western ebook, westerns 1880s, pioneer west usa
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Nine – Miss Canary Goes to War

A council of war gathered around Killem’s fire, with the same men attending as had been present before the Indian-alert and augmented by the presence of Muldoon. After serving coffee, Calamity, Eileen and Molly kept tactfully in a woman’s place in the background. Bigelow outlined Sand Runner’s proposals and then awaited his more experienced subordinates’ comments.

‘That’s the first time I ever heard of a free Indian asking for money, sir,’ said Lieutenant Grade with all the wisdom of twenty-three years of age at his back.

‘Or me,’ Muldoon agreed. ‘Happen they was tamed Injuns on a reservation I’d like it some better.’

‘Reckon you refused, Cap’n?’ asked Killem, idly whittling a stick, which was a sure sign to those who knew him that he regarded the situation as being grave.

‘I did.’

‘So we’ll likely be having fighting soon, sir?’ asked Muldoon.

‘Possibly, Sergeant.’

‘Then could I make so bold as to suggest we start wearing our campaign hats, sir? ‘’Tis shady to the eyes they are when doing fine sighting along the barrel of a carbine.’

‘You’re officer of the day, Mr. Grade,’ Bigelow said with a wry smile. ‘Make whatever dress arrangements you feel are needed.’

‘Yes, sir!’ answered Grade eagerly. Wearing official blouse and kepi might look smart and formally soldier-like, but they were sure hell to fight in under the hot plains sun.

‘What do you think Sand Runner will do now, Beau?’ asked Bigelow.

After relaxing his stand on the subject of Dress Regulations, Bigelow figured he might as well go the whole hog and adopt a less formal attitude towards the big scout; whose knowledge and aid might prove invaluable.

‘Fight!’ came the one word but encyclopedic reply.

‘Right now?’ asked the captain, looking around the camp and noting its condition of readiness.

‘Nope. Night’s too near on us. Most Injuns don’t fight in the dark, figure a man gets killed at night might not be able to find his way to the Spirit Land. ‘Sides, it’ll be long gone dark afore they whomp up another mess of war-medicine, us having spoiled their last boiling.’

‘Sand Runner may not be able to persuade the others that his medicine holds good after his failure to get into the circle, sir,’ Grade remarked.

At that moment the men heard a distant crackle of shots, the deep booming of a Dragoon Colt and the sharper crack of a carbine, the Dragoon’s roar sounding again after the carbine’s shot. Silence dropped on the men and Bigelow remembered that none of the party he had spoke with carried firearms. His eyes went to Resin and the scout gave a low grunt.

‘Happen all I heard’s true,’ Resin drawled, ‘Sand Runner’s just done some persuading. They do say that he uses an old Colt Dragoon that throws flame like a cannon.’

‘Who is this Sand Runner?’ asked Bigelow.

Slowly Resin filled his pipe and lit it, while none of the others offered to make any reply. Sucking in a lungful of air, he breathed it out again and then answered the captain’s question, without helping any.

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