Outlaw by Charles G. West

Author:Charles G. West [West, Charles G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101662809
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2006-05-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

With the pack horses loaded with meat and hides, the Cherokee hunting party prepared to start back to the village. They decided to return on the eastern side of the river. It would be a more direct route back, and should save them almost half a day’s travel. Matt rode at the front of the party between Ike and Crooked Foot, listening to tales of buffalo hunts that Ike used to participate in when he was a younger man. “There’s still buffalo aplenty,” Ike declared, “but not around here no more. You’ve got to go north of here, and west, to the High Plains, to get buffalo now.” Matt listened with great interest as his friend told of seeing wide valleys filled with a virtual sea of the grunting beasts as they flowed through the high country, hooves thundering, tails flying. It was a sight he told himself he would like to see.

Starting out late in the afternoon, the hunters were in the saddle for only a few hours before the sun sank behind the hills and a campsite had to be selected. They settled for a spot by a narrow stream, bordered by a line of willows, and went about the business of tending the horses and building a fire. In short order, there was deer meat roasting and coffee boiling.

After eating his fill, Matt poured a second cup of the strong black coffee, and sat down beside Ike. Ike offered up some conversation for a few minutes, but before long the weight in his stomach began to pull at his eyelids, and soon his head started nodding. In a matter of minutes, his chin came to rest on his chest, and Matt figured that was the end of his friend’s chatter for one day. He turned to comment on it to Crooked Foot, but the Cherokee boy was peering out into the twilight to the south, obviously distracted.

“What is it?” Matt asked.

“Someone is coming,” the boy answered in Cherokee. Then, in English, he said, “People come.”

Matt instinctively reached for his rifle, but Crooked Foot did not appear to be alarmed, merely curious. The Indian boy said something in Cherokee, and several of the others within earshot answered. Soon the entire hunting party was on its feet and looking toward the prairie to the south. One of the older men nudged Ike, and he sat up. Then, from the willows on the other side of the stream, a voice called out. It was immediately answered by the hunters. Soon the air was filled with excited voices.

“What is it?” Matt asked for the second time, looking to Ike for explanation.

“Bad news,” Ike responded, as the visitors emerged from the willows. “These folks is from our village. They’re sayin’ some white men with guns attacked the village. A lot of folks are dead.” His words were short and cryptic, as he thought about his wife and the danger she might be facing. Her safety his one concern, he scrambled to his feet and ran to meet the stragglers from his village.

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