Massacre at White River by Lewis B. Patten

Author:Lewis B. Patten [Patten, Lewis B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western Fiction
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 1952-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

IT WAS with a strange mixture of rage and satisfaction that Otis watched the wagons and trailing horses as they left the trading post and wound downward toward Milk River. He felt satisfaction because he had already provided a hot reception for the two at Milk River, rage because he would not be present to kill Quentin Reed himself.

He had slept very little the previous night. Pain from his beaten and bruised body had made it all but impossible. When even the sound of the wagons was no longer audible, he turned and went inside. Colorow had promised that there would be twenty braves at Milk River this morning, waiting for the wagons that were due there from Rawlins. It was a fortunate coincidence that they would be able to take care of Reed and Elliott at the same time.

He fried a couple of venison steaks and ate half a loaf of stale bread, thinking resentfully of Carlie as he did so. It was characteristic of him that he attached no blame to himself for the fact that Carlie had left him. He consoled himself instead with calling her vicious names under his breath.

When he finished eating, he heated water and bathed his face and beard, wincing with pain as the water touched the open cuts. Then he went out into the store proper, full of the knowledge of what he had to do to this place and hating the sight of everything he was about to destroy. There was five thousand dollars’ worth of goods here. Five thousand dollars’ worth that represented the greed of a lifetime. He had no choice but to put the torch to it. If he did not, there would be those who would say that Otis was the man behind the Ute rebellion. He could not afford that, nor could he afford to be investigated after this was over. For he would have in his possession a thousand head of Government cattle, cattle for 78 which he would have no bill of sale, no evidence of legal ownership except the brands they would be wearing.

As the morning wore on, Otis began to get impatient. Piah had promised to be here before noon, and she had arranged to bring with her three Indian boys, too young to be among the warriors, but old enough to ride, round up cattle, and later to help with the monumental task of rebranding them.

Twice, parties of braves, naked except for breech-clouts and painted for war, passed through the post with only sullen glances in Otis’ direction. The fact that they all ignored him gave Otis increased confidence. It was obvious that Colorow had instructed them well. Otis was to be the only white man who could move safely through the Reservation from now on. Of course, for all Colorow’s cooperation there had to be a price. The price was Carlie. Otis had promised the fat, scowling Ute that he would do nothing to help Carlie, would make no effort to rescue her.

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