Authors: Elmer Kelton
Texas Rifles (17 page)
“It never will be worth two cents an acre,” Quade declared to all who would listen to him. “Me, I like a place to have plenty of wood and water. You don't find no wood here hardly atall, and what little water you can get is so gyppy it'll go through you about as fast as you can drink it. No, sir, a hundred years from now there still won't be anybody livin' up here but Indians, and they just don't know no better.”
Cloud walked over to where Seward Prince hunkered down with a coffee cup squeezed between his two hands.
“Prince,” he said, “I was fixin' to have trouble this afternoon, till you spoke up. I'll tell you the truthâI never would've expected it from you. I'm much obliged.”
Prince shrugged. “We've done come too far and put in too much misery to turn back whipped. I didn't see nobody comin' up with a better idee than yours. There's enough of us here to fix your plow if you didn't find the spring you was talkin' about.”
A crooked grin crossed Cloud's bearded face. Sort of a left-handed support, this was. But it beat having no support at all.
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Cloud and Miguel Soto rode in the lead, with outriders detailed on either side of the company. Men and horses had had a good rest, and Cloud held them to a steady jog trot. Such a gait could cover many miles in a day, yet not wear the mounts down. They had to protect the horses, for the horse was the common denominator. Whatever else a man might have was worth nothing to him in this big country without a horse.
Late in the morning Miguel Soto straightened and lifted his hand, pulling his horse to a sudden stop. He pointed ahead of him. Cloud squinted but saw nothing.
“It is down now behind a rise,” Soto said. “Wait, maybeso it come back.”
Cloud blinked. Heat waves were beginning to wriggle along the horizon line, looking almost like water. “Mirage, maybe,” he said. “This country'll fool you that way sometimes.”
Miguel shook his head. “No mirage. Maybe a horse, maybe a buffalo. But it is real. Look, there it is again!”
Cloud saw it this time. It moved toward them in a steady, deliberate pace. “Indian, I'll bet you. Better look sharp; there may be a lot more of them.”
He had the captain's telescope in his saddlebag. He took it out and stepped down to rest it across his saddle.
“Rider, all right,” he said finally. “Fact, it looks like two, ridin' double.”
He lowered the glass and looked about for a depression, anything that might give the company some semblance of cover. He found nothing. The plain was unmarred by even so much as a buffalo wallow. He turned toward the men and made a circular motion with his hand. “Spread out in a circle and keep a sharp watch all around,” he called. “Could be more than just the one of them.”
The men deployed, and Cloud went back to the telescope. “What the ⦔ He blinked and looked again. “It's a womanâa squaw. And she's got a child on the horse with her.” He shook his head in wonder. “She can't help seein' us,” he told Miguel, “but she's comin' right at us.”
He kept watching, then he lowered the glass, his jaw dropping in astonishment. “It's
not
a squaw!” he exclaimed. “It's Easter!”
not
a squaw!” he exclaimed. “It's Easter!”
He telescoped the glass and dropped it back into the saddlebag, then swung up quickly onto the horse. “Hold your ground!” he yelled at the men, and spurred out to meet the woman.
Still wearing her buckskins, she dismounted as he
neared. She lifted the child down. Cloud jumped to the ground and grabbed Easter in his arms.
neared. She lifted the child down. Cloud jumped to the ground and grabbed Easter in his arms.
“Easter, Easter,” he breathed, “I never thought I'd see you again.”
He felt the tears on her cheek as she pressed hard against him, her hands strong upon his back. She didn't try to speak.
They pulled apart then, and Cloud looked down at the child. A white childâthe Moseley girl!
Cloud dropped to one knee and put his hand under the girl's chin. “Joannaâthat
is
your name, isn't it?”
is
your name, isn't it?”
The girl fearfully drew back from him. He realized that the long days' growth of beard and cover of dust made him look like some wild apparition to her. “I'm Cloud, honey,” he spoke gently. “Don't you remember me?”
The little girl shook her head and put her arms around Easter's legs. Haunting fear dwelt deep in her wide blue eyes. The child's clothes were dirty and torn, but Cloud could see no sign that she had been harmed. “Easter,” he spoke anxiously, looking up, “is she all right?”
“Scared to death but not hurt. She's seen a lotâbeen through a lot.”
“That,” Cloud said, “is a mortal fact.” He stood up and gripped Easter's arms. “And you, Easter? How about you?”
She dropped her chin. “I'm all right.” He saw grief in her eyes.
“What is it, Easter? Did you find your baby?”
She shook her head. “I was too late. It was dead.”
He tightened his grip on her arm and said a quiet “Oh” in sympathy.
“It was always a sickly baby,” she said. “I told you that. The women did what they could, but they couldn't save it. It was the white blood, they said.”
He took her in his arms and held her again, wanting to
give her comfort but not knowing how. He expected her to cry, but she didn't. Likely she'd been through that and was finished with it.
give her comfort but not knowing how. He expected her to cry, but she didn't. Likely she'd been through that and was finished with it.
He said, “It was our fault, I reckonâmine, for ever findin' you.”
“No, Cloud, it's too late now to blame anyone. That wouldn't help. Likely it would've died anyway, even if I had been there. From the first, the women said it wasn't meant to live.”
The little girl still held on to Easter's legs. Cloud looked down and asked, “How did you come to find her?”
“They brought her into camp last night. The women sent her to me because they knew I could talk to her.” She paused, anxiety in her eyes. “Cloud, they're camped at the spring. I met the band on its way there soon after you and I parted. That's where the raiding parties were to come together.”
Cloud nodded. “I had a hunch. That's why we were headin' thataway.”
“But, Cloud, they know you're coming. They're waiting for you there.”
Cloud looked off in the direction of the spring, his brow furrowed. “Bad luck. I'd hoped we'd shaken them off.”
“You didn't. Spies came in last night to report. You've been watched all the way. Now they've prepared an ambush for you at the spring. That's why I slipped out in the night, to warn you. And to bring back this girl.” She looked down with compassion, her hand resting lightly on Joanna Moseley's head. “One of the men took a liking to her, wanted to raise her as a daughter. That was why he saved her and brought her along. I think they probably killed the rest of her family.”
Cloud nodded. “They did.”
“I wanted to save this girl from going through the kind
of life I've had, Cloud. At her age, she'd be completely Indian in a year or two. She wouldn't remember anything else. Then someday, if she lived long enough, maybe white men would find her and take her away from the tribe, the way they did me.”
of life I've had, Cloud. At her age, she'd be completely Indian in a year or two. She wouldn't remember anything else. Then someday, if she lived long enough, maybe white men would find her and take her away from the tribe, the way they did me.”
She poured out her unhappiness in a thin, breaking voice. “Look at me,” she cried. “I'm not a white woman, and I'm not an Indian. I'm a little of both, so now I'm not either one. I was happy enough as an Indian. Life was hard, but it was all I knew, so I thought nothing of it. Then you and the others took me away from that. You wanted me to be a white woman again. But I never was, really, because there was too much of the Indian in me. So I went back to the Indians.
“Those few days in camp at the spring have been enough to show me I'm ruined for that kind of life, too. I've learned too much of the white man's ways to be happy as an Indian again. They're two different worlds. I've got to live in one of them, but I'm not really fit for either one. How can anyone else decide what I'm supposed to be when I don't even know myself? Maybe you can tell me, Cloud; what am I?”
He gripped her hands and looked into her misty eyes. “You're a pretty woman, Easter, and I love you. I know that, and nothing else matters to me.”
She leaned into his arms again, her head against his chest. “Sometimes I wish they'd killed me years ago instead of taking me with them. At least then I wouldn't have the awful choice to make.”
He said solemnly, “It appears to me you've already made the choice. When you left that camp last night and came here with the girl, you burned the bridge behind you. You can't ever go back.”
She nodded. “I know. It's finished now.” She turned to look gravely behind her. “I wish I could take the best
of that life and put it together with the best of the white man's ways. But you can't do that, can you? You can't mix them. You've got to go one way or the other, and burn the bridge!”
of that life and put it together with the best of the white man's ways. But you can't do that, can you? You can't mix them. You've got to go one way or the other, and burn the bridge!”
Cloud kissed her gently on the forehead. “I'm afraid it's that way. There may come a day when it's different, but not now. We've got to face things the way they are and do the best we can with them. I'll try to make you glad you came back, Easter.”
For a moment she remained there in his arms, not saying anything. Then she pulled back. “Cloud, we've got to keep moving. Soon as they missed us this morning, they're bound to've known what I did.”
“You figure they'll come after us?”
“I think they will. There are more of them than you know about, because there were men at the spring who didn't make the raid. They want your scalps, and they want your horses. They've got you up here a long way from home. Don't you think they'll try to get you?”
Cloud nodded. “I reckon. Was I
them,
I would.” He turned her toward her horse. “We best be movin', then.” He gave Easter a lift up onto her horse. He leaned down to the little girl. “Joanna, how's about you ridin' awhile with me? Miss Easter's bound to be tired.”
them,
I would.” He turned her toward her horse. “We best be movin', then.” He gave Easter a lift up onto her horse. He leaned down to the little girl. “Joanna, how's about you ridin' awhile with me? Miss Easter's bound to be tired.”
Dubious, the little girl finally nodded. She watched Cloud closely, no longer fearing him but still not ready to accept him as completely human. He lifted her into the saddle, then swung himself up behind her, setting her in his lap. She turned her head to look up into his face. She said, “My daddy ⦠we go see my daddy now?”
Suddenly Cloud felt his throat tighten. He looked across at Easter. “Doesn't she know?”
“What does a child her age know about death? How can you tell her?”
Cloud's eyes burned. Unconsciously he leaned down
and touched his cheek to the little girl's forehead. “We'll take you home, Joanna.”
and touched his cheek to the little girl's forehead. “We'll take you home, Joanna.”
Once again he saw in his mind the big-shouldered old giant who had been the girl's father. He saw the quiet, determined mother, the brothers and sisters she'd never see again. He remembered most the girl Samantha, with the beautiful hair, the wistful eyes. He said again, whispering now, “We'll take you home.”
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Riding up to the company, he gave the men time to get over their amazement at the sight of Easter and the little girl. Briefly, he explained how Easter had slipped out of camp during the night, bringing Joanna with her.
“Boys,” he said, “this changes things. I know you all came to even some scores. We wanted to square up for Lige Moseley and his family. But the most important thing all along has been to get Lige's girl back. Now we've got her, and we can't afford to take a chance on losin' her again.
“Chances are the Comanches'll be comin' out to get us. Maybe we could whip them and maybe we couldn't. Now, I don't like to tuck my tail and run, but it looks to me like we got little choice now. We got the girl to think of, and Easter. I'll leave it up to you. If you want to stay and fight, we'll do that. If you want to dust it south, then we'll do that.”
He studied the faces of the men. Some of them looked grimly northward, their mouths set in a straight line that said fight. But then they looked at the pitifully ragged little girl, and compassion came into those dirty, bearded faces.
Seward Prince gave the reluctant answer for all of them. “We'd best be a-savin' the girl.”
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The sun was more than halfway down its western slant when the company once more reached the seep where it had spent the night. As the men rode in, dust lifted in front of them. Cloud spotted a small bunch of buffalo trotting away from the water in their lumbering, head-bobbing gait.
An idea struck him suddenly. “Miguel,” he said to the Mexican a little in front of him, “hold up.” He turned in the saddle. “Boys, before them buffalo get too far from the water, lope off yonder and shoot several of them.”
The men spurred out.
Spa-a-a-n-n-g!
spat a rifle, and a buffalo pitched forward, kicking. More rifles roared. In a minute Cloud could see six or eight buffalo lying in the grass, either dead or jerking convulsively as life ebbed out of them in a flow of crimson. Men and horses and buffalo ran back and forth in confusion. Cloud shouted and lifted his hat, making a circle with it high above his head.
Spa-a-a-n-n-g!
spat a rifle, and a buffalo pitched forward, kicking. More rifles roared. In a minute Cloud could see six or eight buffalo lying in the grass, either dead or jerking convulsively as life ebbed out of them in a flow of crimson. Men and horses and buffalo ran back and forth in confusion. Cloud shouted and lifted his hat, making a circle with it high above his head.
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