Climb the Highest Mountain (14 page)

Her eyebrows arched in mock jealousy. “Oh? Well at the moment I am glad that she is up there and we are down here.”

Zeke smiled at her and winked. “Abbie girl, even a woman like Bonnie can’t hold a candle to you.” He grew more serious then. “That’s too bad, though, about Rodney Lewis. I’d better check things out at Fort Lyon when I go, see what I can find out about the Sioux. Things might be worse up north than we thought, and with Wolf’s Blood up there, we’d best try to keep
informed on what is happening. I know Red Cloud is really on the warpath to keep the miners and settlers out of the Powder River country.”

Abbie folded the letter. “Remember the time we rode north for the Laramie Treaty, Zeke? That seems like a hundred years ago.”

He nodded. “If the damned government would have stuck to the original treaty, there might not be so much trouble now,” he answered. “Word is the Cheyenne are forming a strong alliance north and south now, Abbie. Perhaps Wolf’s Blood should have stayed here if he wanted some action, although maybe it’s good for him to be in new surroundings. The Dog Soldiers are gaining firm control and the warriors are well disciplined. Leaders like Tall Bull and White Horse are organizing. There’ll be a lot of raiding and senseless killing, Abbie, all because the white man doesn’t know how to keep his word. I expect Dan will have his work cut out for him up in the Dakotas and Montana. And we’ll have to keep a sharp lookout around here. We aren’t necessarily safe from the Cheyenne anymore, at least not if I’m not around. But I don’t worry about them as much as I worry about raiding Apaches and Comanches. They seem to be spreading out of their own territory. Seems like every Indian tribe east of the Mississippi is on the warpath lately, Abbie girl. They’re desperate and hungry and scared. I know you’re used to trusting the Cheyenne, but I want you to be more careful; and I don’t want the children riding anyplace alone.”

She put the letter in her jacket pocket. Her heart felt heavy. It didn’t seem right that she should have to worry about the Cheyenne, but past cruelties and broken promises and rotgut whiskey were all working to bring a change to the once-beautiful People of the
Plains. She turned to go inside when a rider appeared in the distance. “Someone is coming,” she told Zeke.

Zeke planted the ax into another log and watched, walking to his rifle. It was apparently a lone man, and as he rode closer on a fine black horse a woolen cape attached to the shoulders of his finely cut overcoat flopped with the horse’s stride.

Abbie was upset to see that it was Sir Tynes. She had hoped he would not come around again. The man disturbed her, for she didn’t want Zeke to be upset by anything. He had enough to worry about without a wealthy Englishman living so near them and reminding them of how settled Colorado had become. As the man rode up to the woodpile, Abbie saw Zeke go rigid with repressed anger.

“Mister Monroe, you’re back!” Tynes exclaimed, dismounting and putting out his hand. “I do hope your son is all right. I heard about Sand Creek and I wanted to express my sorrow and to find out if your son and you were all right.”

Zeke took the hand reluctantly, seeing sincerity in the man’s eyes. “We’re all right. My son was badly wounded and a girl he loved was killed. I also had a Cheyenne brother who was killed, along with his family.”

Tynes’s face darkened. “How terrible!” He looked over at Abbie, genuine concern on his face, mixed with what Zeke interpreted as affection. “How terrible for both of you. I’m sincerely sorry.” He looked back up at Zeke, still clasping the man’s hand. “Perhaps I have come at a bad time then. Is your son recovered? I should like to meet him.”

“He’s recovered,” Zeke answered, letting go of the man’s hand. “He’s gone north to make war alongside Red Cloud and the Sioux. I have a Cheyenne brother
up there who lives among the Sioux. I’m afraid after what my son saw at Sand Creek, his heart is very confused and bitter. He’s gone away to find his revenge, and perhaps to find himself.”

Sir Tynes scanned Zeke. The man looked even larger in his heavy deerskin coat. “I’ve been in touch with Pueblo and Julesberg, Mister Monroe. The Indians, mostly Cheyenne, are making some bad raids. There are even rumors that up to a thousand warriors are headed for Julesberg to wipe out the town, but no one has been able to spot the marauders.”

Zeke just grinned. “Good. I hope they’re successful. If it weren’t for my wife and family I’d be with them.” He picked up his ax and sobered. “Whatever you heard about Sand Creek, Tynes, I’m sure the story was distorted if it came from whites, especially from the governor’s office in Denver. I was there. I saw the slaughtered bodies of women and little babies and old people, ears cut off, fingers cut off, privates cut off, heads bashed in beyond recognition. I buried my brother and his wife and their little son. It was no battle, Sir Tynes. It was a deliberate, unnecessary slaughter of a band of peaceful Indians. I don’t give a damn what the Cheyenne do in retaliation. More power to them.”

Tynes eyed him coolly as he chopped more wood. Then the man looked over at Abbie. “How was that venison, Mrs. Monroe? Tasty, I’ll bet.” He was referring to the deer she had shot the day he’d visited.

“Very good. There is a lot left, smoked and cured. Just last night we—”

“What’s your business here, Tynes,” Zeke interrupted, disturbed by the way the Englishman looked at his Abbie. “I’m a busy man.”

Abbie was tempted to scold her husband for his
rudeness, but there were times when it was best not to interfere in Zeke Monroe’s actions.

“Well, I… I was just being neighborly. I thought you might like to know what I had learned about the Cheyenne … and I wanted to find out about your son. The last time I was here your wife was quite worried, and—”

“The last time you were here I was gone.”

Their eyes held. “Yes. Well, I didn’t know that until I got here.”

“Didn’t you?”

Sir Tynes’s face reddened slightly. “I assure you I did not. If you think I am spying on you and yours, Mister Monroe, you are gravely mistaken. I am here to be neighborly and to look at your horses, and to tell you that if you have any problems because of all this raiding I will be glad to help out. The house I am building is made of stone and will be a virtual fortress. You are obviously a man of great skills and one who has good rapport with the Indians, so you may not need any help. But if you do, my doors are open. You must stop judging all wealthy men by the same standards, Mister Monroe. I judge men by their worth as people, not by their means or race, and I am sure you judge men no less fairly. So please judge me as a lonely neighbor who wishes to be a friend and who admires your magnificent horses. Don’t turn me out just because I happen to have money.”

“It isn’t the fact that you have money, Tynes,” Zeke replied, removing his gloves and throwing them down. “It’s the fact that you’re here at all. I’m sorry, but Sand Creek is still fresh in my mind; and it’s people like you who, one by one, are killing off my People.”

The man nodded. “You are probably right. But you are not a fool, Mister Monroe, and you know as well as
I that the West will be settled, whether it be gently or ruthlessly. Either way it will happen. I am in total agreement that it is a sad and unfair situation for the Indians, but whether I stay or leave will make no difference to what will ultimately happen. It’s been inevitable since the Pilgrims first landed on the Eastern shores. I don’t say that without feeling, Mister Monroe. I do sympathize with your people. In fact, I am writing a book about them, about the American West and all the excitement out here. And I plan to do great justice to the red man in my writing and to tell both sides. I would be very honored if you would tell me what you saw at Sand Creek so I can add it to my notes. There is quite an investigation going on in Denver, you know, from the governor down to the volunteers who participated in the raid.”

Zeke stared at the rapidly talking Englishman. He wondered if the man had any idea what hardships in this land were all about. “A book?” he asked, grinning. He snickered then, the sound building to full laughter. “A book!” He looked at Abbie, who didn’t know whether to laugh with him or be angry with him. Sir Tynes drank in her beauty as she stepped closer. He had hoped his desire for her was done, but now that he saw her again it was reawakened.

“Zeke, if Sir Tynes wants to try writing a book about this land, I think we should answer his questions and talk to him. At least maybe the truth will be told. What harm can that do?”

Sir Tynes smiled and bowed. “Thank you, dear lady.”

Zeke put a casual arm around his wife and pulled her close. “Tynes, I don’t have you completely figured out yet, except that you’re amusing if nothing else. I’ll answer your questions, and you’d better tell it straight
if you ever get anything in print.”

Tynes removed his hat and bowed again. “You have my word. Now, may I see your horses? I need some good sturdy ones for keeping my cattle together. Oh, and if any of my cattle should stray onto your property, just shoo them back over, or corral them and hold them until one of my men comes round looking for them. I’ll pay you for your trouble if that should happen.”

Zeke shook his head. “No need. But if you run across any of my animals on your place, I’d appreciate the same favor. Come on over to the stables and I’ll show you some of my better stock. They haven’t been turned out yet.” He’d started walking, one arm around Abbie, when they heard a gunshot. Sir Tynes was amazed at how quickly Zeke turned and whisked up his rifle, running in the direction of the shot. A young boy came running from a clump of thick cottonwoods down near the river, holding a rifle in one hand and a small animal in the other.

“Father! I got a rabbit! I got a rabbit!” the boy shouted as Zeke ran toward him.

“Oh, Jeremy!” Abbie exclaimed. She looked at Sir Tynes. “That’s the first time the boy has ever managed to hit something. He’s been trying for so long.”

She started walking toward her husband and son, and Sir Tynes followed, envisioning her slender form beneath the mounds of winter clothing. Zeke was laughing and praising his son when they reached them, and Jeremy was beaming with pride. Perhaps he could be a real son to Zeke Monroe after all.

“Jeremy, such a big one!” Abbie told him.

“I know!” the boy said, grinning from ear to ear. “Will you fix it for supper, Mama? Will you?”

“I certainly will. But you have to skin it and clean it first.”

The boy looked at his father. “Will you show me with your knife?”

Zeke took out the big blade and Sir Tynes grimaced. “I sure will,” Zeke answered. He took the rabbit from the boy and cut off the head as though the rabbit’s bones were made of butter. He started to hand the head to Sir Tynes as a joke, but the man was studying Abbie’s face intently as she watched Zeke. The obvious love and desire in the man’s eyes could not be denied. Zeke sobered, set the head aside, and in one quick flash ripped his knife through the animal’s belly to slit it open and clean it.

“How can you do that so easily?” Sir Tynes asked. “Your weapon must be very sharp.”

Zeke looked up at the man, the bloody knife in his hand. “It is. But a rabbit has fur, which makes it harder to cut quick and clean. I can go through a man a lot faster.”

Their eyes held and Sir Tynes swallowed. “Yes. I am sure you can.”

The winter was long and lonely without Wolf’s Blood. Zeke and Abbie’s worries were made worse by the fact that the Cheyenne had built their force to over a thousand warriors, and although Black Kettle still would not fight, there were many others with memories of Sand Creek who would. The raiding and killing had become fierce and hot. Many settlers were slaughtered, ranches were burned, and cattle and horses were stolen. No ranch was safe, and many forts were not safe. Stages were stopped and robbed. In one instance the entire payroll for the Colorado soldiers was ripped from its strongbox and chopped to pieces by the Cheyenne, the little pieces of “green paper” scattered
for miles. A train near Valley Station, west of Julesberg, was attacked and twelve men were killed. On February 2, 1865, the town of Julesberg itself was attacked and burned, and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of supplies were either stolen or destroyed. The Cheyenne fed their starving bellies with white men’s cattle and with stolen flour, meats, dried fruits, and molasses. The Cheyenne victory and the plunder they took at Julesberg helped ease their ravaged hearts and minds of the memories of Sand Creek. They had become so powerful and determined that they dared to hold a victory dance after destroying Julesberg, right in front of the soldiers and civilians who huddled inside Fort Rankin. Telegraph poles were cut and used for fires. Indeed, the Indians had become such a force that help had to be sent all the way from Fort Laramie.

Dan was not among those who came to the rescue of the Colorado citizenry. He was busy with the Sioux in the north, which was exactly where many of the southern Cheyenne were headed. Troops were dispatched from Laramie to try to stop that northward movement. Meanwhile the Cheyenne plundered and murdered as they pursued their northward trek. Nothing was safe between the north and south branches of the Platte River. Relief troops headed out of Fort Laramie to back up those already dispatched. These troops were commanded by Lt. Col. William O. Collins, the commanding officer at Fort Laramie. But the efforts of the soldiers were to no avail. The strong force of Indians continued moving north, now and then getting into skirmishes with soldiers. But the soldiers were so outnumbered that the colonel finally decided to go back to Fort Laramie and to cease trying to stop the northward movement of the Cheyenne. The
warring southern Cheyenne reached their northern hunting grounds, and soon joined the Oglala Sioux and the northern Cheyenne on the Powder River. Wolf’s Blood found himself greeting former friends. The boy was full of excitement and ready to fight. The situation could only get worse, for Congress had granted a charter to the Union Pacific to build a railroad across the Plains, right through the heart of Indian country. The order was given for the “removal” of all Indians from the railroad lands.