Tom pushed on ahead to reconnoiter the Upper Spring 
 
 IPage 262} 
 
"Bring Me His Ears" 
 
 By CLARENCE E. MULFORD 
 
 Author of 
 'Bar 20," "Bar 20 Days," "Bar 20-Three," "Buck Peters, 
 Ranchman," "The Coming of Cassidy," "Hopalong 
 Cassidy," "Johnny Nelson," "The Man from 
 Bar 20," "Tex," etc. 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by arangement with A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 Printed in U. S. A. 
 
^5 35^^ 
 
 CopTiight 
 
 A. C. MeClurg & Co. 
 
 1922 
 
 Publislied Oetober, 1922 
 
 Copyrighted in Great Britam 
 
 ' */\0UCi 
 
 Frinted in thfi United States of America 
 
"Bring Me His Ears" 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HAWKENS' GUN STOR^ 
 
 THE tall, lanky Missourian leaning against the cor- 
 ner of a ramshackle saloon on Locust Street, St. 
 Louis, Missouri — the St. Louis of the early forties — 
 turned his whiskey-marked face toward his companion, a 
 short and slender Mexican trader, sullenly listening to 
 the latter's torrent of words, which was accompanied by 
 many and excitable gesticulations. The Missourian 
 shook his head in reply to the accusations of his com- 
 panion. 
 
 "But he was on thee boat weeth us!" exclaimed the 
 other. **An' you lose heem — lak theese!" the sharp 
 snap of his fingers denoted magic. 
 
 " Thar ain't no use o' gittin' riled," replied Schoolcraft. 
 " How in tarnation kin a man keep th' trail o' a slippery 
 critter like him in these yere crowds? I'll git sight o* 
 him, right yere." 
 
 " That ees w'at you say," rejoined the Mexican, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. " But w'at weel / say to le GoheV' 
 nadorf Theese hombre Tomaz Boyd — he know vera 
 many t'eengs — too vera many t'eengs — an' he ensult le 
 Gobernador. Madre de Dios — sooch ensult!" He 
 
BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 shivered at the thought. "Wen I get thee message, I 
 tr-remble ! It say * Br-ring heem to me — or breeng me 
 his ears ! ' I am tol' to go to Senor Schooler-raft at Een- 
 dependence — he ees thee man. I go ; an' then you lose 
 heem ! Bah ! You do not know theese Manuel Armijo, 
 le Gohernador de Santa Fe, my fren' — I tr-remble!" 
 
 "You need a good swig, that's what you need," 
 growled Schoolcraft. " An' if ye warn't a chuckle-head," 
 he said with a flash of anger, " we wouldn't 'a' come yere 
 at all; I told ye he's got th' prairie fever an' shore would 
 come back to Independence, whar I got friends; but no 
 — we had ter f oiler him ! " He spat emphatically. " Thar 
 warn't no sense to it, nohow ! " 
 
 The other waved his arms. " But w'y we stan' here, 
 lak theese? W'y you do no'teeng?" 
 
 "Now you look a-here, Pedro," growled the Mis- 
 sourian, his sullen gaze passing up and down the slender 
 Mexican. " Ye don't want ter use no spurs on this critter. 
 I ain't no greaser! If ye'U hold them arms still fer a 
 minute I'll tell ye somethin'. Thar's three ways o' gittin' 
 a deer: one is trailin' — which we've found ain't no 
 good; another is layin' low near a runway — which is 
 yer job; th' third is watchin' th' salt lick — which is my 
 job. You go down ter th' levee, git cached among them 
 piles o' freight an' keep a lookout on th' landin' stage o' 
 th' Belle. I'll stick right yere on this corner an' watch 
 th' lick, which is Hawkens' gun store. He lost his pistol 
 overboard, comin' down th' river, didn't he? An' th' 
 Belle ain't sailin' till arter ten o'clock, is she ? One o' us 
 is bound ter git sight o' him, fer he'll shore go back by th' 
 river ; an' if thar's any place in this town whar a plains- 
 man'll go, it's that gun store, down th' street. You do 
 
HAWKENS' GUN STORE 3 
 
 what I say, or you an' Armijo kin go plumb ter hell! 
 An' don't ye wave yer fists under my nose no more, 
 Pedro; I might misunderstand ye." 
 
 The Mexican's face brightened. "Eet ees good, vera 
 good, Sefior Schoolcraft. Hah ! You have thee br-rains, 
 my fren'. Armijo, he say : * Pedro, get heem to Santa Fe, 
 if you can. If you can't, then keel heem, an' breeng me 
 hees ears.' Biieno! I go, seiior, I go pronto. Buena 
 dia! " 
 
 " Then git," growled Schoolcraft. " Thar's that long- 
 faced clerk o' Hawkens' openin' th' shop. Now remem- 
 ber: this side o' th' junction o' th' Oregon trail I'm only 
 ter watch him. If he goes southwest from th' junction, yer 
 job begins; if he heads up fer th' Platte, my job starts. 
 I ain't got no love fer him, but I'm hopin' he heads fer 
 Oregon an' gets killed quick ! I hate ter think o' a white 
 man in Armijo's paws. An' if he hangs 'round th' set- 
 tlements, we toss up fer th' job. If that's right, va- 
 moose." 
 
 "Eet ees r-right to thee vera letter," whispered the 
 Mexican, rubbing his hands. " Eef only I can get heem 
 to Santa Fe — ah, my fren' ! " 
 
 "Yer wuss nor a weasel," grunted the Missourian, 
 slight prickles playing up and down his spine. " Better git 
 down to them freight piles ! " 
 
 Schoolcraft watched his scurrying friend until he 
 slipped around a corner and was lost to sight; then he 
 turned and looked up the street at the gun shop of Jake 
 and Samuel Hawken, whose weapons were renowned all 
 over that far-stretching western wilderness. Shrugging 
 his shoulders, he glanced in disgust at the heavy, patented) 
 repeating rifle in his hand and, letting his personal affairs 
 
BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 take precedence over those of the distant Mexican tyrant, 
 he swung down the street, crossed it, and entered the 
 famous gun shop. He risked nothing by the move, for 
 the store was the Mecca of frontiersmen, and a trip to St. 
 Louis was hardly complete without a visit to the shop. 
 
 The Hawkens were established, so much so that they 
 Vftvt to be singled out by one of the famous Colt family 
 with a partnership proposition. The fame of their rifles 
 had rolled westward to the Rockies and beyond. They 
 were to be found across the Canadian and Mexican 
 boundaries and wherever hunters and trappers congre- 
 gated, who scorned the Northwest fusil as fit only for 
 trading purposes, laughed in their sleeves at the prepos- 
 terous length and general inefficiency of the Hudson Bay 
 muskets, and contentedly patted the stocks of their Haw- 
 kens'. There is a tradition that the length of the Hudson 
 Bay muskets, which often rose over tlie head of a tall 
 man while the butt rested on the ground, was due to the 
 fact that the ignorant Indians could obtain a white man's 
 gun only by stacking up beaver skins until the pile was 
 as high as the musket. Even worse than the flintlock 
 trade guns were the escopetas of the south, matchlocks 
 of prodigious bore and no accuracy or power, which were 
 used by many of the Mexicans. That swarthy-skinned 
 race which suffered under the tyranny of Armijo seemed 
 to believe that anything which used powder was a 
 weapon. The rank and file of the Mexicans were coura- 
 geous and usually fought bravely until deserted by their 
 officers, or until they were fully convinced that the mis- 
 cellaneous junk with which they were armed was worse 
 than useless. It can hardly be expected that men shoot- 
 ing pebbles, nails, and what-not out of nearly useless 
 
HAWKENS' GUN STORE 
 
 blunderbusses; or using bows, arrows, and lances will 
 stand up very long against straight-shooting troops 
 armed with the best rifles; add to this the great difference 
 in morale, and the ever-present distrust of the officers, 
 and a fair and honest understanding may be arrived at. 
 
 Hawkens* clerk took down one of the great rifles to 
 go over it with an oiled rag, which was another example 
 of painting the lily. The weapon was stocked to the 
 muzzle and shot a bullet weighing thirty-two to the 
 pound, each thus being an honest half -ounce of lead. It 
 was brass mounted and had a poorly done engraving of 
 a buffalo on the trap in its stock. He turned to replace 
 it and take down another when the sound of the opening 
 door made him pause and face the incoming customer. 
 
 The newcomer was neither hunter nor trapper, gam- 
 bler nor merchant, to judge from his nondescript and 
 mixed attire. His left hand had an ugly welt running 
 across the base of the palm and it had not been healed 
 long enough to have lost its distinctive color. In his 
 right hand he carried a rifle which was new to that part 
 of the country, and he slid it onto the counter. 
 
 " Swap ye," he gruffly said, stepping back and leering 
 at the clerk. " Too ak'ard f er me. Can't git used ter it, 
 nohow. I like a stock with a big drop — this un makes 
 me hump my head down like a bull buffaler. That's th' 
 wuss o' havin' a long neck." 
 
 The clerk glanced at the repeating Colt and then at the 
 injured hand. The faintest possible suggestion of a know- 
 ing smile flitted across his face, and he shook his head. 
 
 "Those are too dangerous," he replied. "We don't 
 handle them." 
 
 "W'y, that's a fine rifle!" growled the customer, a 
 
BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 heavy frown settling on his coarse face. " Six shots, 
 with them newfangled caps, without re-loadin'. She's a 
 plumb fine weapon ! " 
 
 "Looks good," laughed the clerk; "but we don't care 
 to handle them." 
 
 "They've sorta put yer nose outer j'int, ain't they?" 
 sneered the customer. " Wall, ye kin bet yer peltries I 
 wouldn't be givin' ye th' chanct to handle this un," he 
 angrily declared, "if it had a bigger drop an' warn't so 
 ak'ard fer a man like me. Ye can't find a rifle in yer 
 danged store as kin hold a candle ter it. I bet ye ain't 
 never seen one afore ! " 
 
 "It's our business to keep informed," responded the 
 clerk, still smiling. "We heard all about that rifle as 
 soon as it was patented." 
 
 " But ye alius could sell a gun like this un," persisted 
 the scowling owner. " Ye must have a hull passel o' ten- 
 derfeet a-comin' in yere." 
 
 The clerk frowned and his voice became slightly edged. 
 " The reputation of Hawkens' is a valuable asset. It was 
 acquired in two ways: honest goods and fair dealing. 
 Most tenderfeet ask us for a gun that we can recom- 
 mend ; we cannot recommend that rifle. Do you care to 
 look at one that will not shoot through the palm of your 
 extended hand after it gets hot from rapid shooting?" 
 
 "I got ye thar, pardner!" retorted the customer. "I 
 done that with a poker. Ye don't seem anxious ter do 
 no business." 
 
 " Our stock and my time are at your disposal," replied 
 the clerk; "but we cannot take that Colt in part pay- 
 ment." 
 
 "Wall, ye don't have ter: I know a man as will; an' 
 
HAWKENS' GUN STORE 
 
 he ain't all swelled up, neither. You an' yer rifles kin go 
 ter h — 1 together! " He jerked the Colt from the counter 
 and stamped out, cursing at every step, and slammed the 
 door behind him so hard that it shook the shop. Thor- 
 oughly angered, he strode down the street and had gone a 
 block before he remembered that he was to keep watch on 
 the shop. Cursing anew, he wheeled and went back on 
 the other side of the street and stopped at the corner of a 
 ramshackle saloon. 
 
 The clerk was taking down another rifle when the door 
 opened again and he wheeled aggressively, but his frown 
 was swiftly wiped out by a smile. 
 
 The newcomer was somewhere in the twenties, stood 
 six feet two in his moccasins, and had the broad, sloping 
 shoulders that tell of great strength. He was narrow 
 waisted and sinewy and walked with a step light and 
 springy. Dressed in buckskin from the soles of his feet 
 to the top of his head, he had around his waist a broad 
 belt, from which hung powder horn, bullet pouch, a con- 
 tainer for caps, a buckskin bag for spare patches, a bullet 
 mold, and a heavy, honest skinning knife. Slung from a 
 strap over one shoulder hung his "possible" bag, con- 
 taining various small articles necessary to his calling. In 
 his hand was a double-barreled rifle which he seemed to 
 be excited about. 
 
 " Mr. Jarvis ! " he exclaimed, offering the weapon for 
 inspection. " Tell me what you think of this ? " 
 
 The clerk chuckled and his eyes lighted with pleasure. 
 "I've seen it, or its twin, before. English, fine sights, 
 shooting about thirty-six balls to the pound. They're 
 pointed, aren't they? Ah-ha! I thought so." He took 
 the gun and examined it carefully. " Just what I've been 
 
8 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 trying to tell Mr. Jacob Hawken. Look at those nipples : 
 large diameter across the threaded end, making it much 
 easier to worry out wet powder by removing them and 
 working with a bent wire from that end. We have to 
 work at the ball with a screw, and that is no easy task 
 after the patch paper becomes swollen. With this rifle 
 you can replace the wet powder with dry and fire the ball 
 out in much less time. Where did you get it, Mr. Boyd ? " 
 
 The plainsman laughed exultingly. "Won it on the 
 boat coming down, from an English sportsman who was 
 returning home. He said it was a fine weapon, and I 
 thought so; but I wanted your opinion." 
 
 "Take it out on the Grand Prairie and try it out. 
 From what I can see here it is a remarkably fine rifle; 
 but handsome is, you know." 
 
 "I've tried it out already," laughed the other. "It's 
 the best rifle in this country, always excepting, of course, 
 the Hawken!" 
 
 " As long as you put it that way I shall have to agree 
 with you. Did you see the man who left a few moments 
 before you came in?" 
 
 Boyd nodded shortly. " Yes ; but I don't care to dis- 
 cuss him beyond warning you to look out for him. He 
 deals in draft animals in Independence, has the name of 
 being slippery, and is known as Ephriam Schoolcraft. 
 However, I'm not an unprejudiced critic, for there is not 
 the best of feelings between us, due to an unprincipled 
 trick he tried to play on my partner." His face clouded 
 for a moment. His partner had joined the ill-fated 
 Texan Santa Fe Expedition and had lost his life at the 
 hands of one of Armijo's brutal officers, for whom Tom 
 Boyd had an abiding hatred. On his last visit to Santa 
 
HAWKENS' GUN STORE 
 
 Fe he had sho"v\m it so actively that only his wits and 
 forthright courage had let him get out of the city with 
 his life. " Well, to change the subject, I lost my pistol 
 in the river, and I've heard a great deal about a revolving 
 Colt pistol from some Texans I met. It shoots six times 
 without reloading and is fitted for caps. Got one ? " 
 
 *' Two," chuckled Jarvis. "A large bore and a smaller. 
 They are fine weapons, but never rest the barrel on your 
 other hand when you shoot." 
 
 "I'll remember that. Which size would you recom- 
 mend for me ? " 
 
 " The larger, by all means. We are expecting a ship- 
 ment by express down the Ohio and it should reach us 
 almost any day now. It took the Texans to prove their 
 worth and give them their reputation." 
 
 " Fit it with caps, mold and whatever it needs. I need 
 caps and powder for the rifle, too. First quality Ken- 
 tucky, or Dupont, of course." 
 
 The purchase completed Jarvis watched his friend and 
 customer distribute them over his person and then asked 
 a question. 
 
 "Where to now, Mr. Boyd?" 
 
 "Independence and westward," answered the other. 
 " Spring is upon us, the prairie grass is getting longer all 
 the time, and Independence is as busy and crowded as an 
 ant hill. All kinds of people are coming in by train and 
 river, bound for the trade to Santa Fe and Chihuahua, 
 and for far away Oregon." His eyes shone with enthu- 
 siasm. " The homesteaders interest me the most, for it is 
 to them that we will owe our western empire. The 
 trappers, hunters, and traders have prepared the way, 
 but they are only a passing phase. The first two will 
 
lo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 vanish and in their places the homesteaders will take root 
 and multiply. Think of it, Mr. Jarvis, now our frontiers 
 are only halfway across the continent; what an empire 
 that will some day become ! " 
 
 Jarvis nodded thoughtfully and looked up. "What 
 does your father say to all this, especially after the news 
 last fall about your narrow escape in Santa Fe ? " 
 
 Boyd shrugged his shoulders. "Father set his heart 
 on me becoming his junior partner, and to passing his 
 work over to me when he was ready to retire. Two 
 generations of surgeons, is his boast; and in me he hoped 
 to make it three. Against that, the West needs men! 
 Those Oregon-bound wagons bring tears to my eyes. 
 They have cast my die for me. I am on my way to Fort 
 Bridger and Fort Hall and the valley of the Columbia, to 
 lend my strength and little knowledge of the open to 
 those who need it most." 
 
 Jarvis nodded his head in sympathy, for he had heard 
 many speak nearly the same thoughts; indeed, at times, 
 the yearning to leave behind him the dim old shop and 
 the noisy, bustling city beset him strongly, despite his 
 years of a life unfitting him for the hardships of the 
 prairies and mountains. Being able to read Greek and 
 Latin was no asset on the open trail; although school- 
 masters would be needed in that new country. 
 
 "I know how you feel, Mr. Boyd. Have you seen 
 your father since you landed ? " 
 
 Tom reluctantly shook his head. " It would only re- 
 open the old bitterness and lead to further estrangement. 
 No man shall ever speak to me again as he did — not 
 even him. If you should see him, Jarvis, tell him I asked 
 you to assure him of my affection." 
 
HAWKENS' GUN STORE ii 
 
 " I shall be glad to do that," replied the clerk. " You 
 missed him by only two days. He asked for you and 
 wished you success, and said your home was open to you 
 when you returned to resume your studies. I think, in 
 his heart, he is proud of you, but too stubborn to admit 
 it." As he spoke he chanced to glance through the win- 
 dow of the store. " Don't look around," he warned. " I 
 want to tell you that Schoolcraft and a Mexican just 
 passed the shop, peered in at you with more than passing 
 interest and went on. I suppose it's nothing, though." 
 
 " It's enough to make me keep my eyes open," replied 
 Tom, sighting his new rifle at the great clock on the wall, 
 which seemed to move a little faster under the threat. " I 
 thought they were watching me on the boat. Armijo's 
 vindictive enough to go to almost any length. He isn't 
 accustomed to having his beast face slapped." 
 
 Jarvis' jaw dropped in sheer amazement. "You mean 
 — do I understand — eh, you mean — you slapped his 
 face?" 
 
 " So hard that it hurt my hand ; I'll wager his teeth 
 are loose," replied Tom, his interest on his new weapon. 
 
 "Er — slapped Governor Armijo's face?" persisted 
 Jarvis from the momentum of his amazement. 
 
 " The Governor of the Department of New Mexico," 
 replied the hunter. 
 
 Jarvis drew a sleeve across his forehead and carefully 
 felt for the high stool behind him. Automatically climb- 
 ing upon it he seated himself with great care and then, 
 remembering that his customer was standing, slid off it 
 apologetically. He was gazing at his companion as 
 though he were some strange, curious animal. 
 
 "Eh — would you mind telling me why?" he asked. 
 
12 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 " He offended me; and if I'd known then what I found 
 out later I would have broken every bone in his pom- 
 pous carcass and thrown him to the dogs!" His face 
 had reddened a little and the veins on his forehead were 
 beginning to stand out. 
 
 Jarvis examined the clock with almost hypnotic in- 
 terest. "And how did he offend you, Mr. Boyd, if I 
 may inquire?" 
 
 " Oh, the beast came swaggering along the street, fol- 
 lowed at a respectful distance by a crowd of his boot- 
 lickers, and pushed me out of his way. I asked him who 
 in hell he thought he was, in choice Spanish, and the con- 
 ceited turkey-gobbler reached for his saber. The more I 
 see of this gun, Jarvis, the more I like it." 
 
 "Yes, indeed; and then what, Mr. Boyd?" 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 "He reached for his saber — and then?" 
 
 "Oh," laughed Tom. "I helped him draw it, and 
 broke it across his own knee. He called me a choice 
 name and I slapped his face. You should have seen the 
 boot-lickers ! Before they could get their senses back 
 and make up their minds about rushing my pistol I had 
 slipped through a store, out of the back and into a place I 
 know well, where I waited till dark. I understand there 
 was quite a lot of excitement for a day or so." 
 
 "I dare say — I dare say there might have been," 
 admitted Jarvis. "In fact, I am sure there would be. 
 Damn it, Tom, would you mind shaking hands with me ? " 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE 
 
 TOM wended his way to the levee and as he passed 
 the last line of buildings and faced the great slope 
 leading to the water's edge his eyes kindled. Two grace- 
 ful stern-wheel packets were moving on the river, the 
 smaller close to the nearer bank on her way home from 
 the treacherous Missouri; the larger, curving well over 
 toward the Illinois shore, was heading downstream for 
 New Orleans. Their graceful lines, open bow decks with 
 the great derricks supporting the huge landing stages, 
 and the thick, powerful masts on each edge of the lower 
 deck toward the bow, each holding up the great spar so 
 necessary for Mississippi river navigation ; the tall stacks 
 with the initials of the boat against a lattice work be- 
 tween ; the regular spacing of windows and doors in the 
 cabins, and the clean white of their hulls and super- 
 structure, rendered more vivid by contrast with the tawny 
 flood on all sides of them, made a striking and pic- 
 turesque sight. Each had a curving tail of boiling brown 
 water behind, and a bone in its teeth. These river boats 
 were modeled on trim and beautiful lines and were far 
 from being crude, frontier makeshifts. 
 
 Several Mackinaw boats moved anglingly across the 
 
 current from the other shore, and a keelboat glided down 
 
 the river for New Orleans, or to turn up the Ohio 
 
 for Pittsburg, helped in the current by a dirty, square 
 
 13 
 
14 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 sail. The little twin-hulled ferry was just coming in from 
 the Illinois shore, its catamaran construction giving it a 
 safety which a casual observation would have withheld. 
 The passengers clung to its rails as it pitched and bobbed 
 in the rolling wake of the south-bound packet, a wake 
 dreaded by all small craft unfortunate enough to pass 
 the slapping paddle at too close a distance, for the follow- 
 ing billows were high, sharp, and close together. 
 
 On the great levee wagons and carts rattled and rum- 
 bled; drivers shouted and swore as they picked their 
 impatient and erratic way through the traffic; lazy ne- 
 groes, momentarily spurred into energetic activity, moved 
 all kinds of merchandise between the boats and the great 
 piles on the sloping river bank, two long lines of them 
 passing each other on the bridging gangplanks reaching 
 far ashore. Opposed to this scene of labor and turmoil 
 was a canoe well offshore, whose two occupants, drifting 
 with the current, lazily fished for the great channel cat- 
 fish which the negro population loved so much. 
 
 On a packet, which we will call the Missouri Belle, a, 
 whistle blew sharply and as the sound died away several 
 groups of passengers hurried across the levee, scurrying 
 about like panicky bugs when a log is rolled over, darting 
 this way and that amid the careless bustle of the traffic, 
 as eager to reach a place of safety as are chickens af- 
 frighted by the shadow of a drifting hawk. The crowd 
 was cosmopolitan enough to suit the most exacting critic. 
 Freighters, merchants, hunters, trappers, and Indians 
 returning to the upper trading posts or to their own 
 country; gamblers; a frock-coated minister who suspi- 
 ciously regarded every box and barrel and bale that he 
 saw rolled up the freight gangplank, and who was a per- 
 
ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE ig 
 
 son of great interest to many pairs of eyes on and off the 
 boat; a priest; a voluble, chattering group of coureurs des 
 hois; a small crowd of soldiers going up to Fort Leaven- 
 worth; emigrants, boatmen, and travelers made up the 
 hurrying procession or stood at the rails and watched the 
 confusion on the levee. 
 
 Tom joined the animated stream, swinging in behind 
 an elderly gentleman who escorted a young lady of un- 
 flurried demeanor through the maelstrom of wagons, 
 carts, mules, horses, passengers, and heavily laden ne- 
 groes. Caught in a jam and forced to make a quick 
 decision and to follow it instantly, the young lady 
 dropped her glove in picking up her skirts and a nervous 
 horse was about to stamp it into the dirt and dust when 
 Tom leaped forward. Grasping the bridle with one hand, 
 he bent swiftly and reached for the glove with the other. 
 As he was about to grasp it, a man dressed in nondescript 
 clothes left his Mexican companion and bent forward on 
 the other side of the horse, his lean, brown fingers 
 eagerly outstretched. 
 
 Tom's surprise at this unexpected interference acted 
 galvanically and his hand, turning up from the glove, 
 grasped the thrusting fingers of the other in a grip which 
 not only was powerful but doubly effective by its unex- 
 pectedness. He swiftly straightened the wrist and fore- 
 arm of his rival into perfect alignment with the rest of 
 the arm and then, with a sudden dropping of his own 
 elbow, he turned the other's arm throwing all his strength 
 and weight into the motion. The result was ludicrous. 
 The rival, bent forward, his other hand on the ground, 
 had to give way in a hurry or have his arm dislocated. 
 His right foot arose swiftly into the air and described a 
 
i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 short arc as his whole body followed it; and quicker 
 than it takes to tell it he was bridged much the same as a 
 wrestler, his arched back to the ground. Tom grinned 
 sardonically and with a swift jerk yanked his adversary 
 off his balance, and as the other sprawled grotesquely in 
 the dust, the victor of the little tilt picked up the glove, 
 leaped nimbly aside and looked eagerly around for its 
 owner. He no sooner stood erect than he saw her with a 
 handkerchief stuffed in her mouth and, bowing stiffly and 
 with sober face he gravely presented the glove to her. 
 She had waited, despite all her escort could do, somewhat 
 breathlessly watching the rescue and the short, quick 
 comedy incidental to it; and now, with reddened cheeks 
 and mischievous eyes, she took the glove and murmured 
 her thanks. The elderly gentleman, grinning from ear to 
 ear, raised his high beaver, thanked the plainsman, and 
 then hurried his charge onto the boat, fearful of the time 
 lost. 
 
 Tom stood in his tracks staring after them, hypnotized 
 by the beauty of the face and the timbre of the voice of 
 the woman whose eyes had challenged him as she had 
 turned away. 
 
 The profane remarks of the wagon driver, the more 
 picturesque remarks of others drivers, and the vociferous, 
 white-toothed delight of the negroes did not soothe 
 Ephriam Schoolcraft's outraged dignity nor help to cool 
 his anger, and he arose from his dust bath seeking whom 
 he might devour. He did not have to seek far, for a ne- 
 gro's shouted warning reached Tom in time to spin him 
 around to await his adversary. The plainsman was cool, 
 imperturbable, and smiling slightly with amusement. 
 
 Schoolcraft leaped for him and was sent spinning 
 
ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE 17 
 
 against a pile of freight. As he recovered his balance his 
 hand streaked for his belt, but stopped in the air as he 
 gazed down the barrel of the new Colt snuggling against 
 the hip of the younger man. It must have looked espe- 
 cially vicious to a man accustomed to a single-shot pistol, 
 or a double-barreled Derringer, at best. 
 
 "That was no killing matter," said Tom quietly. 
 ** Don't make it so, and don't make us both miss that 
 packet, and get locked up in a St. Louis jail. I'll get out 
 again quicker than you, but that hardly matters. If you're 
 going aboard, go ahead; I'm in no great hurry." Out of 
 the corner of his eye he was watching the Mexican, but 
 found nothing threatening. 
 
 Schoolcraft glared at him, allowed a hypocritical smile 
 to mask his feelings, bowed politely, and walked down 
 the levee, the Mexican following him, and Tom bringing 
 up the rear. They were quickly separated by the bustle 
 on the boat, each giving his immediate attention to the 
 preparations necessary for his comfort during the voyage. 
 
 A second blast of the whistle was followed by the 
 groaning of the great derrick as it lifted the landing stage 
 and swung it aboard; lines were hauled in and the pas- 
 sengers along the rails waved their adieus and called last 
 minute messages to those they were leaving behind. It 
 would be many years before some of them saw their 
 friends again, and for a few the reunion would not be on 
 this earth. A bell rang aft and the great stern paddle 
 slapped and thrashed noisily as it bit and tore at the yel- 
 low water beneath it. Showers of sparks, incandescent 
 as they left the towering stacks, fell in gray flakes on the 
 decks and the river, the bluish smoke of the wood fires 
 trailing straighter and straighter astern as the packet 
 
i8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 rounded into the boiling current and pushed upstream at 
 a constantly increasing speed, leaving behind her the 
 western metropolis on the left-hand bank and a strag- 
 gling hamlet on the other. 
 
 Here the Mississippi is a mighty river, approaching 
 half a mile in width between its limestone banks; deep, 
 swift, its current boiling up the muddy contribution of 
 the great Missouri, as if eager to expose the infamy of its 
 pollution to the world. But whatever it lost in purity by 
 the addition of the muddy water, pouring in eighteen miles 
 above the city, it gained in greatness. Other large rivers 
 have been tamed and rendered nearly harmless, but these 
 two have baffled man's labors and ingenuity, and finally 
 the contributing stream has been given up as incorrigible. 
 
 The confusion of the passengers attending to their bag- 
 gage, places at table and their sleeping quarters grew 
 constantly less as mile followed mile, and by the time the 
 Belle swung in a great, westward curve to leave the 
 Father of Waters for the more turbid and treacherous 
 bosom of the Big Muddy, many were eagerly looking for 
 the line marking the joining of the two great streams. It 
 was plain to the eye, for the jutting brown flood of the 
 Missouri, dotted with great masses of drift, was treated 
 with proper suspicion by the clearer flood of the nobler 
 stream, and curved far out into the latter without losing 
 the identity of its outer edge for some distance below. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ARMIJO S STRONG ARM 
 
 PILOTING on the Mississippi was tricky enough, 
 with the shifting bars and the deadly, submerged 
 logs, stumps, and trees; but the Missouri was in a class 
 by itself; indeed, at various stages of high water it 
 seemed hardly to know its own channels or, in some 
 places, even its own bed. It threw up an island today to 
 remove it next week or ten years later, and cut a new 
 channel to close up an old one whenever the mood suited. 
 Gnawing off soft clay promontories or cutting in behind 
 them was a favorite pastime; and the sand and clay of its 
 banks and the vast expanses of its bottoms coaxed it into 
 capricious excursions afield. More than one innocent 
 and unsuspecting settler, locating what he considered to 
 be a reasonable distance from its shores on some rich 
 bottom, found his particular portion of the earth's sur- 
 face under the river or on its further bank when he 
 returned from a precipitate and entirely willing flight. 
 
 There were two tricks used on the river to get out of 
 sandbar difficulties that deserve mention. During certain 
 stages of the river it for some reason would cross over 
 from one side of its bed to the other, and between the old 
 and the new deep channels would be a space of considera- 
 ble distance crossed by the water where there was no 
 channel, but only a number of shallow washes, none of 
 which perhaps would be deep enough to let a steamboat 
 19 
 
20 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 through. The deepest would be selected, and if only two 
 or three more inches of water were needed, the boat would 
 be run up as far as it could go, the crew would fix the 
 two great spars with their shoes against the bottom, 
 slanting downstream, set the steam capstans drawing on 
 their ropes, and then reverse the paddle wheel. The 
 turning of the great wheel would force water under the 
 hull while the spars pushed backward and, raising a plat- 
 form of water around her and taking it with her, she 
 would slide over the shallow place and go on about her 
 business. 
 
 In case of a bar where there were no submerged banks 
 to hold a platform of water, and only a few more inches 
 needed, the spars would be used as before, but the paddle 
 wheel would remain idle. The backward thrust of the 
 spars would force the boat ahead, while their lifting mo- 
 tion would raise it a little. This being repeated again and 
 again would eventually "walk" the boat across and into 
 deeper water on the other side. It was a slow and labo- 
 rious operation and sometimes took a day or two, but it 
 was preferable to lying tied to the bank and waiting for a 
 rise, often a matter of a week or more. 
 
 All this was an old story to Tom, who now was on his 
 fifth trip up the river, for he was an observant young 
 man and one who easily became acquainted with persons 
 he wished to know. These included the officers and pilots, 
 who took to the upstanding young plainsman at first 
 sight and gave painstaking answers to his many but sen- 
 sible questions. In consequence his knowledge of the 
 river was wide and deep, although not founded on prac- 
 tical experience. 
 
 Long before the packet turned into the Missouri he 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 21 
 
 had his affairs attended to and was leaning against the 
 rail enjoying the shifting panorama. But the scenery did 
 not take all of his attention, for he was keeping a watch 
 for a certain Mexican trader and for the young lady of 
 the glove; and after the boat had rounded into the Big 
 Muddy, he caught sight of the more interesting of the two 
 as she walked forward on the port side in the company 
 of her escort. Waiting a few moments to see if they 
 would discover him, he soon gave it up and went in 
 search of the purser, who seemed to know about everyone 
 of note in St. Louis. 
 
 " Hello, Tom," called that officer, having recovered his 
 breath after the rush. "Yo're goin' back purty quick, 
 ain't you ? " 
 
 " Reckon not. One night an' one day in th' city was 
 enough. But this cussed packet is near as lonesome. I 
 don't know a passenger on board." 
 
 "I can fix that," laughed the purser. "I know about 
 three-quarters of 'em, an' can guess at th' rest. I counted 
 seven professional gamblers comin' up th' plank. They'll 
 be in each other's way. You feelin' like some excite- 
 ment?" 
 
 " Not with any of them," answered Tom, grinning. " I 
 can count seven times seven of them fellers in Independ- 
 ence; an' I hear some of 'em are plannin' to join up 
 with th' next outgoing train." 
 
 "Well," mused the purser. His face cleared. "There's 
 that sneakin' minister. Havin' looked in everythin' but 
 our mouths, he'll mebby have time to convert a sinner. 
 How 'bout him?" 
 
 " Don't hardly think he can do much with me," mut- 
 tered Tom. He considered a moment and tried to hid& 
 
22 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 his grin. " Now I noticed an elderly old gentleman with 
 a young lady, gettin' aboard jest before I did. They was 
 leavin' you when I showed up. Happen to know 'em ? " 
 
 " You shouldn't 'a' give back th' glove when you did," 
 laughed the officer. "You should 'a' had yore quarrel 
 with Schoolcraft first, so you could 'a' waited till we was 
 under way before you handed it back to her. That 
 would 'a' give you a better chance to get acquainted. 
 I've heard that frontierin' sharpens a man's wits, but I 
 dunno. Want to meet 'em? Th' old sport's interesting 
 when he ain't tryin' to beat th' gamblers at their own 
 game. An' he's plumb successful at it, too, if there ain't 
 too many ag'in him." 
 
 Tom had the grace to flush under his tan, but he thank- 
 fully accepted the bantering and the suggestion. " What 
 you suppose I've risked wastin' my time talkin' to you 
 for?" he demanded. 
 
 "You know cussed well you wasn't wastin' it," re- 
 torted the purser. " Come on, an' meet one of th' finest 
 young ladies in St. Louis. She won't care if you pay 
 more attention to her uncle." 
 
 A few minutes later Tom had been made acquainted 
 with the couple and they soon discovered that they had 
 mutual friends in the city. Time passed rapidly and 
 Patience Cooper and her uncle, Joseph, took a keen in- 
 terest in their companion's account of life on the prairies. 
 He found that the uncle was engaged in the overland 
 trade and was going out to Independence to complete ar- 
 rangements for the starting of his wagons with the Santa 
 Fe caravan. Finding that they were to be seated at dif- 
 ferent tables they had the obliging steward change their 
 places so they could be together, and after the meal the 
 
'ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 231 
 
 uncle begged to be excused and headed for the card room, 
 which brought a fleeting frown to the face of his niece. 
 Tom observed it without appearing to and led the way to 
 some chairs on deck near the rail. 
 
 The blast of the whistle apprised them of a landing in 
 sight and soon they picked it out, as much by the great 
 piles of firewood as by any other sign. This was the 
 little hamlet of St. Charles, and here came on board sev- 
 eral plainsmen and voyageurs who, having missed the 
 packet at St. Louis, had hastened across the neck of land 
 to board it here. As soon as the gangplank touched the 
 bank a hurrying line of men depleted the great wood pile, 
 and in a few minutes the landing stage swung aboard 
 again and the Missouri Belle circled out into mid-channel, 
 a stream of sparks falling astern. 
 
 An annoying wind had been blowing when they left the 
 parent stream, annoying in a way a stranger to the river 
 never would have dreamed. There being no permanence 
 to the channels, no fixity to the numerous bars, no accu- 
 rate knowledge covering the additions to the terrible, 
 destroying snags lurking under the surface, the pilot lit- 
 erally had to read his way every yard and to read it anew 
 every trip. All he had to go by was the surface of the 
 water, and it told him a true tale as long as it was rea- 
 sonably placid. From his high elevation he looked down 
 into the river and learned from it where the channel lay ; 
 and from arrow-head ripples and little, rolling wavelets, 
 where the snags were, for every one close enough to the 
 surface to merit attention was revealed by the telltale 
 "break" on the water. Let a moderate wind blow and 
 his task became harder and more of a gamble; but even 
 then, knowing that the waves run higher over deeper 
 
24 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 water, he still could go ahead; but above a certain 
 strength the wind not only baffled his reading, but gave 
 such a sidewise drift to the shallow-draft, high-riding 
 vessel that he could not hope to take it safely through 
 some of the narrower channels. Rain or hail, which 
 turned the surface into a uniform area of disturbance, 
 instantly closed his book ; and in this event he had no re- 
 course except to lie snugly moored to the south bank and 
 wait until the weather conditions changed. Sometimes 
 these waits were for a few hours, sometimes for a day or 
 more; and when the persistent southwest prairie gales 
 blew day and night, moving great clouds of sand with 
 them, the boat remained a prisoner until they ceased or 
 abated. 
 
 There was good reason for choosing that south bank, 
 for the stronger winds almost invariably came from that 
 direction during the navigation season, and the bank gave 
 a pleasing protection. While lying moored, idleness in 
 progress did not mean idleness all around, for the boilers 
 ate up great quantities of wood, and in many cases the 
 fuel yards were the growing trees and windfalls on the 
 banks. Once the boat was moored the crew leaped 
 ashore and became wood-choppers, filling the fuel boxesi 
 and stacking the remainder on shore for future use. In 
 a pinch green cottonwood sometimes had to be used, but 
 it could be burned only by adding pitch or resin. 
 
 Nowhere on the river was a navigation mark, for 
 nowhere was the channel permanent enough to allow one 
 to be placed. It was primitive, pioneer navigation with a 
 vengeance, requiring intelligent, sober, quickwitted and 
 courageous men to handle the boats. On the Missouri 
 the word *' pilot " was a term of distinction. 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 25 
 
 The river was high at this time of the year, caused less 
 by the excessive rains and melting snows in the moun- 
 tains, being a little early for them, than by the rains along 
 the immediate valley; bottom lands were flooded, giving 
 the stream a width remarkable in places and adding 
 greatly to the amount of drift going down with the cur- 
 rent. 
 
 The afternoon waned and the wind died, the latter 
 responsible for the pilot's good nature, and the shadows 
 of evening grew longer and longer until they died, seem- 
 ing to expand into a tenuity which automatically effaced 
 them. But sundown was not mooring time, for the twi- 
 light along the river often lasted until nine o'clock, and 
 not a minute was wasted. 
 
 When St. Charles had been left astern Tom had led 
 his companion up onto the hurricane deck and placed two 
 chairs ^fgainst the pilot house just forward of the texas, 
 where the officers had their quarters. The water was 
 now smooth, barring the myriads of whirling, boiling 
 eddies, and from their elevated position they could see the 
 configuration of the submerged bars. The afterglow in 
 the sky turned the mud-colored water into a golden 
 sheen, and the wind-distorted trees on the higher banks 
 and ridges were weirdly silhouetted against the colored 
 sky. Gone was the drab ugliness. The finely lined 
 branches of the distant trees, the full bulks of the pines 
 and cedars and the towering cottonwoods, standing out 
 against the greenery of grass covered hills, provided a 
 soft beauty ; while closer to the boat and astern where sky 
 reflections were not seen, the great, tawny river slipped 
 past with a powerful, compelling, and yet furtive sugges- 
 tion of mystery, as well it might. 
 
26 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Tom was telling of the characteristics of the river 
 when the boat veered sharply and caused him to glance 
 ahead. A great, tumultuous ripple tore the surface of 
 the water, subsided somewhat and boiled anew, the 
 wavelets gold and crimson and steel blue against the uni- 
 form lavender shad© around them. The many-fanged 
 snag barely had been avoided as it reached the upward 
 limit of its rhythmic rising and falling. 
 
 Soon a bell rang below and the boat slowed as it 
 headed in toward a high, wooded bank. Nudging gently 
 against it the packet stopped, men hurried lines ashore, 
 made them fast to the trees and then set a spring line, 
 which ran from the stern forward to the bank ahead of 
 the bow, so as to hold the boat offshore far enough to 
 keep it afloat in case the river should fall appreciably 
 during the night. The pilot emerged behind them, 
 glanced down at the captain overseeing the mooring oper- 
 ations, and then spoke to Tom, who made him acquainted 
 with Patience and invited him to join them. He gladly 
 accepted the invitation and soon had interested listeners 
 to his store of knowledge about the river. Darkness now 
 had descended and he pointed at the stream. 
 
 " There's somethin' peculiar to th' Missouri," he said. 
 " Notice th' glow of th' water, several shades lighter than 
 th' darkness on th' bank? On the Mississippi, now, th' 
 water after dark only makes th' night all th' blacker; but 
 on this stream th' surface can be seen pretty plain, though 
 not far ahead. We take full advantage of that when we 
 have to sail after dark. We would be goin' on now, 
 except that we got news of a new and very bad place a 
 little further on, an' we'd rather tackle it when we can see 
 good." 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 27 
 
 "Oh," murmured Patience. "A ghost road leading 
 through a void." 
 
 A long, dark shape appeared on the " ghost road " and 
 bore silently and swiftly down upon the boat, struck the 
 hull a glancing blow, scraped noisily, ducked under, 
 turned partly and scurried off astern. It was a trimmed 
 tree trunk, and by its lowness in the water it told of a 
 journey nearly ended. Before long one end would sink 
 deeper and deeper, finally fastening in the alluvial bot- 
 tom and, anchoring securely, lie in wait to play battering 
 ram against some ill-fated craft surging boldly against 
 the current. 
 
 The lanterns on shore began to move boatward as the 
 last of the wooding was finished and the fuel boxes again 
 were full. Farther back among the trees some trappers 
 had started a fire and were enjoying themselves around 
 it, their growing hilarity and noise suggesting a bottle 
 being passed too often. Gradually the boat became quiet 
 and after another smoke the pilot arose and excused him- 
 self, saying that it was expected that the journey would 
 be resumed between three and four o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 "How long will it take us to reach Independence 
 Landing?" asked Patience. 
 
 The pilot shook his head. "That depends on wind, 
 water, and th' strength of th' current, though th' last 
 don't make very much difference sometimes." 
 
 Tom looked up inquiringly. " I don't just understand 
 th' last part," he confessed. "Mebby I didn't hear it 
 right" 
 
 " Yes, you did," replied the pilot, grinning in the dark- 
 ness. "When she's high she's swift; but she's also a 
 
28 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 hull lot straighten Th' bends of this river are famous, 
 an' they add a lot of miles to her length. They also cut 
 down th' slant of her surface, which cuts down th' 
 strength of th' current. At lower water we'd have a 
 longer distance to sail, but a gentler current. When she 
 rises like she is now she cuts off, over or behind a lot of 
 th' bends an' makes herself a straighter road. An' th' 
 shorter she gits, th' steeper her pitch grows, which makes 
 a stronger current. She jest reg'lates herself accordin' 
 to her needs, an' she gits shet of her floods about as quick 
 as any river on earth. Oh, I tell you, she's a cute one; 
 an' a mean one, too ! '* 
 
 " She's shore movin' fast enough now," observed 
 Tom, watching the hurtling driftwood going spectrally 
 down the almost luminous surface. " How long will this 
 high water last, anyhow?" 
 
 " Considerable less than th' June rise," answered the 
 pilot. "She's fallin' now, which is one of th' reasons 
 we're tied to th' bank instid of goin' on all night. This 
 here rise is short, but meaner than sin. Th' June rise is 
 slower an' not so bad, though it lasts longer. It comes 
 from th' rains an' meltin' snow in th' mountains up 
 above. Down here th' current ain't as swift as it is 
 further up, for this slope is somethin' less than a foot to 
 th' mile ; but if it warn't for th' big bottoms, that let some 
 of th' water wander around awhile instid of crowdin' 
 along all at once, we'd have a current that'd surprise you. 
 Jest now I figger she's steppin' along about seven miles 
 an hour. Durin' low water it's some'rs around two ; but 
 I've seen it nearer ten on some rises. There are places 
 where steamboats can't beat th' current an' have to kedge 
 up or wait for lower water. About gittin' to Independ- 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 29 
 
 ence Landin', or what's left of it, I'll tell you that when 
 we pass Liberty Landin'. Miles through th' water ain't 
 miles over th' bottom, an' it's th' last that counts. Be- 
 sides, th' weather has got a lot to say about our business. 
 I hope you ain't gittin' chilled, Miss Cooper, this spring 
 air cuts in amazin' after sundown," 
 
 " I am beginning to feel it," she replied, arising, " I'll 
 say good night, I believe, and ' turn in.' " 
 
 Tom escorted her to the lower deck and watched her 
 cross the cabin and enter her room, for he had no illu- 
 sions about some of the men on board. As her door 
 closed he wheeled and went to look at the engines, which 
 were connected directly to the huge paddle wheel. The 
 engineer was getting ready to climb into his bunk, but he 
 smoked a pipe with his visitor and chatted for a few min- 
 utes. Tom knew what it meant to be an engineer on a 
 Missouri river packet and he did not stay long. He knew 
 that his host scarcely took his hand from the throttle for 
 a moment while the boat was moving, for he had to be 
 ready to check her instantly and send her full speed 
 astern. The over- worked system of communication be- 
 tween the pilot house and the engine room had received 
 its share of his attention during his runs on the river. 
 
 He next went forward along the main deck and looked 
 at the boilers, the heat from them distinctly pleasing. As 
 he turned away he heard and felt the impact from an- 
 other great, trimmed log slipping along the faint, gray 
 highway. Some careless woodcutter upstream had 
 worked in vain. He stopped against the rail and looked 
 at the scurrying water only a few feet below him, listen- 
 ing to its swishing, burbling complaints as it eddied along 
 the hull, seeming in the darkness to have a speed incredi- 
 
30 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ble. A huge cottonwood with its upflung branches and 
 sunken roots paused momentarily as it struck a shallow 
 spot, shivered, lost a snapping dead limb, collected a sur- 
 prising amount of debris as it swung slowly around and 
 tore free from the clutching mud of the bottom and, once 
 more acquiring momentum, shot out of sight into the 
 night, its slowly rising branches telling of the heavy roots 
 sinking to their proper depth. Next came a tree stump 
 like some huge squid, which must have been well dried out 
 and not in the water for very long, else it would have 
 found the bottom before this. Then a broken and water- 
 logged keelboat, fully twenty-five feet long, scurried past, 
 a great menace to every boat afloat. Planks, rails from 
 some pasture fence, a lean-to outhouse, badly smashed, 
 and a great mass of reeds and brush came along like a 
 floating island. The constantly changing procession and 
 the gray water fascinated him and he fairly had to tear 
 himself away from it. Strange splashings along the bank 
 told him of undermined portions of it tumbling into the 
 river, and a louder splash marked the falling of some 
 tree not far above. 
 
 " She's talkin' a-plenty tonight," said a rough voice be- 
 hind him and he turned, barely able to make out a figure 
 dressed much the same as he was ; but he did not see an- 
 other figure, in Mexican garb, standing in the blackness 
 against a partition and watching him. The speaker con- 
 tinued. " More gentle, this hyar trip ; ye should 'a' heard 
 her pow-wowin' th' last run up. I say she's wicked an* 
 cruel as airy Injun; an' nothin' stops her." 
 
 "I can't hardly keep away from her," replied Tom, 
 easily dropping into the language of the other; "but I 
 ain't likin' her a hull lot. A hard trail suits me better." 
 
"ARMIJO'S STRONG "ARM 511 
 
 " Now yer plumb shoutin'," agreed the other. " If 
 'twarn't fer goin' ashore every night, up in th' game 
 country, I don't reckon I'd want ter see another steam- 
 boat fer th' rest o' my days. Everythin' about 'em is too 
 onsartin." 
 
 Tom nodded, understanding that his companion was ai 
 hunter employed by the steamboat company to supply the 
 boat's table with fresh meat. After the game country, 
 which really meant the buffalo range, was reached this 
 man went ashore almost every night and hunted until 
 dawn or later, always keeping ahead of the boat's mooring 
 and within sight of the river after daybreak. Whatever 
 he shot he dragged to some easily seen spot on the bank 
 for the yawl to pick up, and when the steamboat finally 
 overtook him he went aboard by the same means. His 
 occupation was hazardous at all times because of the hos- 
 tility of the Indians, some few of which, even when their 
 tribes were quiet and inclined to be friendly for trade 
 purposes, would not refuse a safe opportunity to add a 
 white man's scalp to their collection. The tribes along the 
 lower sections of the river were safer, but once in the 
 country of the Pawnees and Sioux, where his hunting 
 really began, it was a far different matter. He did not 
 have much of the dangerous country to hunt in because 
 the Belle did not go far enough up the river; but the 
 hunters on the fur company's boats went through the 
 worst of it. 
 
 "Goin' out this spring?" asked the hunter. 
 
 "Yep; Oregon, this time," answered Tom. "My scalp 
 ain't safe in Santa Fe no more. Been thar ? " 
 
 " Santa Fe, yep ; Oregon, no. Went to N'Mexico in 
 '31, an' we got our fust buffaler jest tother side o' Cot7< 
 
32 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 tonwood Creek. It war a tough ol' bull. Bet ye won't 
 git one thar no more. We forded th' Arkansas at th* 
 lower crossin' an' follered th' dry route. Hear thar's a 
 track acrost it now, but thar warn't any then. Don't like 
 that stretch, nohow. Longest way 'round is th' best f er 
 this critter. Ye got Bent's Fort handy ter bust up th' trip, 
 git supplies an' likker; an' I'd ruther tackle Raton Pass, 
 mean as it is, than cross that cussed dry plain atween th' 
 Crossin' an' th' Cimarron. I'd ruther have water than 
 empty casks, airy time; an' fur's th' Injuns air consarned, 
 'twon't be long afore ye'll have ter fight 'em all th' way 
 from th' frontier ter th' Mexican settlements. They'll be 
 gittin' wuss every year." 
 
 "Yer talkin' good medicine," replied Tom, thought- 
 fully. " 'Twon't be safe f er any caravan ter run inter one 
 o' them war parties. Thar cussin' th' whites a'ready, an' 
 thar bound ter jine ban's ag'in us when th' buffaler git 
 scarce." 
 
 The hunter slapped his thigh and laughed uproariously. 
 " Cussed if that ain't a good un ! Why, th' man ain't alive 
 that'll live ter see that day. They won't git scarce till 
 Kansas is settled solid, an' then there'll have ter be a 
 bounty put on 'em ter save th' settlers' crops. Why, 
 thar's miles o' 'em, pardner!" 
 
 " I've seen miles o' 'em," admitted Tom ; " but they'll 
 go, an' when they once start ter, they'll go so fast that a 
 few years will see 'em plumb wiped out." 
 
 " Shucks ! " replied the hunter. " Why, th' wust ene- 
 mies they got is th' Injuns an' th' wolves. Both o' them 
 will go fust, an' th' buffalers'll git thicker an' thicker." 
 
 "We are thar worst enemies!" retorted Tom with 
 spirit, "Th' few th' Injuns kill don't matter — if it did 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 331 
 
 they'd 'a* been gone long ago. They only kill fer food 
 an' clothin' ; but we kill fer sport an' profit. Every year 
 that passes sees more whites on th' buffaler ranges an' 
 more hides comin' in ter th' settlements; an' most of 
 them hides come from th' cows. Look at th' beaver, 
 man \ Thar goin' so fast that in a few years thar won't be 
 none left. Thar's only one thing that'll save 'em, an' 
 that's a change in hats. Killin' fer sport is bad enough,; 
 but when th' killin' is fer profit th' end's shore in sight; 
 What do we do? We cut out th' buffaler tongues an' 2L 
 few choice bits an' leave th' rest for th' wolves, Th' 
 Injuns leave nothin' but th' bones. Why, last trip acrost 
 I saw one man come inter camp with sixteen tongues. 
 He never even bothered with th' hump ribs ! I told him 
 if he done it ag'in an' I saw him, I'd bust his back; an' 
 th' hull caravan roared at th' joke!'' 
 
 " Danged if it warn't a good un," admitted the hunter, 
 chuckling. "Have ter spring that on th' boys." He 
 turned and looked around. "Them fellers on th' bank 
 air shore havin' a good time. They got likker enough, 
 anyhow. Cussed if it don't sound like a rendezvous! 
 Come on, friend : what ye say we jine 'em ? It's too early 
 to roll up, an' thar's only card buzzards in th' cabin a-try- 
 m' ter pick th' bones o' a -merchant." 
 
 "We might do wuss nor that," replied Tom; "but I 
 don't reckon I'll go ashore tonight." 
 
 " Wall, if ye change yer mind ye know th' trail. I'm 
 leavin' ye now, afore th' bottles air all empty," and the 
 hunter crossed the deck and strode down the gangplank. 
 
 Tom watched the hurrying, complaining water for a 
 few moments and then turned to go to the cabin. As hq 
 did so something whizzed past him and struck the water; 
 
54 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 with a hiss. Whirling, he leaped into the shadows under 
 the second deck, the new Colt in his hand; but after a 
 hot, eager search he had to give it up, and hasten to the 
 cabin, to peer searchingly around it from the door. The 
 only enemy he had on board to his knowledge was 
 Schoolcraft — and then another thought came to him: 
 was Armijo reaching out his arm across the prairies? 
 
 Joe Cooper was intent on his game; Schoolcraft and 
 the Mexican trader were taking things easy at a table in 
 a corner, and both had their knives at their belts. They 
 did not give him more than a passing glance, although 
 a frown crept across the Independence horse-dealer's 
 evil face. Seating himself where he could watch all the 
 doors, Tom tried to solve the riddle while he waited to 
 scrutinize anyone entering the cabin. At last he gave up 
 the attempt to unravel the mystery and turned his atten- 
 tion to the card game, and was surprised to see that it 
 was being played with all the safeguards of an established 
 gambling house. Having a friend in the game he watched 
 the dealer and the case-keeper, but discovered nothing to 
 repay him for his scrutiny. An hour later the game broke 
 up and Joe Cooper, cashing in his moderate winnings, 
 arose and joined Tom and suggested a turn about the 
 deck before retiring. Tom caught a furtive exchange of 
 fleeting and ironical glances between the case-keeper and 
 the dealer, but thought little of it. He shrugged his 
 shoulders and followed his new friend toward the door. 
 
 Ephriam Schoolcraft, somewhat the worse for liquor, 
 made a slighting remark as the two left the cabin, but it 
 was so well disguised that it provided no real peg on 
 which to hang a quarrel; and Tom kept on toward the 
 ideck, the horse-dealer's nasty laugh ringing in his ears. 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM ^ 
 
 He could see where he was going to have trouble, but he 
 hoped it would wait until Independence was reached, for 
 always there were the makings of numerous quarrels on 
 board under even the best of conditions, and he deter- 
 mined to overlook a great deal before starting one on his 
 own account. It was his wish that nothing should mar 
 the pleasure of the trip up the river for Patience Cooper. 
 
 He and his companion stopped in the bow and looked 
 at the merry camp on shore, both sensing an undertone of 
 trouble. Give the vile, frontier liquor time to work in 
 such men and anything might be the outcome. 
 
 He put his lips close to his companion's ear : " Mr. 
 Cooper, did you notice anyone hu^ry into the cabin just 
 before I came in? Anyone who seemed excited and in a 
 hurry?" 
 
 Cooper considered a moment : " No," he replied. " I 
 would have seen any such person. Something wrong?" 
 
 "Schoolcraft, now; and that Mexican friend of his," 
 prompted Tom. "Did they leave the cabin before you 
 saw me come in?" 
 
 " No ; they both were where you saw them for an hour 
 or two before you showed up. I'm dead certain of that 
 because of the interest Schoolcraft seemed to be taking 
 in me. I don't know why he should single me out for his 
 attentions, for he don't look like a gambler. I never saw 
 him before that little fracas you had with him on the 
 levee. Something up ? " 
 
 " No," slowly answered Tom. " I was just wondering 
 about something." 
 
 "Nope; he was there all the time," the merchant 
 assured him. " Seems to me I heard about some trouble 
 you had in Santa Fe last year. Anything serious ? " 
 
B6 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 " Nothing more than a personal quarrel. I happened 
 to get there after they had started McLeod's Texans on 
 the way to Mexico City, and learned that they had been 
 captured." He clenched his fists and scowled into the 
 night. " One of the pleasant things I learned from a man 
 who saw it, was the execution of Baker and Howland. 
 Both shot in the back. Baker was not killed, so a Mexi- 
 can stepped up and shot him through the heart as he lay 
 writhing on the ground. The dogs tore their bodies to 
 pieces that night." He gripped the railing until the blood 
 threatened to burst from his finger tips. " I learned the 
 rest of it, and the worst, a long time later." 
 
 Cooper turned and stared at him. "Why, man, that 
 was in October ! Late in October ! How could you have 
 been there at that time, and here, in this part of the coun- 
 try, now ? You couldn't cross the prairies that late in the 
 year ! " 
 
 "No; I wintered at Bent's Fort," replied Tom. "I 
 hadn't been in Independence a week before I took the 
 boat down to St. Louis, where you first saw me. There 
 were four of us in the party and we had quite a time 
 making it. Well, reckon I'll be turning in. See you to- 
 morrow." 
 
 He walked rapidly toward the cabin, glanced in and 
 then went to his quarters. Neither Schoolcraft nor the 
 Mexican were to be seen, for they were in the former's 
 stateroom with a third man, holding a tense and whis- 
 pered conversation. The horse-dealer apparently did not 
 agree with his two companions, for he kept doggedly 
 shaking his head and reiterating his contentions in 
 drunken stubbornness that, no matter what had been 
 overheard, Tom Boyd was not going to Oregon, but back 
 
ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 37 
 
 to Santa Fe. He mentioned Patience Cooper several 
 times and insisted that he was right. While his com- 
 panions were not convinced that they were wrong they, 
 nevertheless, agreed that there should be no more knife 
 throwing until they knew for certain that the young 
 hunter was not going over the southwest trail. 
 
 Schoolcraft leered into the faces of his friends. " You 
 jest wait an' see ! " He wagged a finger at them. " Th' 
 young fool is head over heels in love with her ; an' he'll 
 find it out afore she jines th' Santa Fe waggin train. 
 Whar she goes, he'll go. I'm drunk; but I ain't so drunk 
 I don't know that!" 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 I'OM CHANGES HIS PLANS 
 
 DAWN broke dull and cold, but without much wind, 
 and when Tom awakened he heard the churning of 
 the great paddle wheel, the almost ceaseless jangling of 
 the engine room bell and the complaining squeaks of the 
 hard-worked steering gear. A faint whistle sounded 
 from up river, was answered by the Missouri Belle, and 
 soon the latter lost headway while the two pilots ex- 
 changed their information concerning the river. Again 
 the paddles thumped and thrashed and the boat shook as 
 it gathered momentum. 
 
 On deck he found a few early risers, wrapped in coats 
 and blankets against the chill of the morning hour. The 
 overcast sky was cold and forbidding; the boiling, scur- 
 rying surface of the river, sullen and threatening. Going 
 up to the hurricane deck he poked his head in the pilot 
 house. 
 
 " Come on in," said the pilot. " We won't go fur to- 
 day. See that?" 
 
 Tom nodded. The small clouds of sand were easily 
 seen by eyes such as his and as he nodded a sudden gust 
 tore the surface of the river into a speeding army of 
 wavelets. 
 
 " Peterson jest hollered over an' said Clay Point's an 
 island now, an' that th' cut-off is bilin' like a rapids. 
 Told me to look out for th' whirlpool. They're bad, 
 sometimes.'* 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 39 
 
 " To a boat like this ? " asked Tom in surprise. 
 
 "Yep. We give 'em all a wide berth." The wheel 
 rolled over quickly and the V-shaped, tormented ripple 
 ahead swung away from the bow. " That's purty nigh to 
 th' surface," commented the pilot. "Jest happened to 
 swing up an' show its break in time. Hope we kin git 
 past Clay before th' wind drives us to th' bank. Look 
 there!" 
 
 A great, low-lying cloud of sand suddenly rose high 
 into the air like some stricken thing, its base riven and 
 torn into long streamers that whipped and writhed. The 
 gliding water leaped into short, angry waves, which bore 
 down on the boat with remarkable speed. As the blast 
 struck the Missouri Belle she quivered, heeled a bit, 
 slowed momentarily, and then bore into it doggedly, but 
 her side drift was plain to the pilot's experienced eyes. 
 
 "We got plenty o' room out here fer sidin'," he ob- 
 served; "but 'twont be long afore th' water'll look th' 
 same all over. We're in fer a bad day." As he spoke 
 gust after gust struck the water, and he headed the boat 
 into the heavier waves. "Got to keep to th' deepest 
 water now," he explained. "Th' snags' telltales are 
 plumb wiped out. I shore wish we war past Clay. There 
 ain't a decent bank ter lie ag'in this side o' it." 
 
 For the next hour he used his utmost knowledge of the 
 river, which had been developed almost into an instinct; 
 and then he rounded one of the endless bends and 
 straightened out the course with Clay Point half a mile 
 ahead. 
 
 " Great Jehovah ! " he muttered. " Look at Clay ! " 
 
 The jutting point, stripped bare of trees, was cut as 
 clean as though some great knife had sliced it. Under its 
 
40 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 new front the river had cut in until, as they looked, the 
 whole face of the bluff slid down into the stream, a slice 
 twenty feet thick damming the current and turning it into 
 a raging fury. Some hundreds of yards behind the 
 doomed point the muddy torrent boiled and seethed 
 through its new channel, vomiting trees, stumps, brush 
 and miscellaneous rubbish in an endless stream. Off the 
 point, and also where the two great currents came to- 
 gether again behind it two great whirlpools revolved with 
 sloping surfaces smooth as ice, around which swept drift- 
 wood with a speed not unlike the horses of some great 
 merry-go-round. The vortex of the one off the point 
 was easily ten feet below the rim of its circumference, 
 and the width of the entire affair was greater than the 
 length of the boat. A peeled log, not quite water-soaked, 
 reached the center and arose as vertical as a plumb line, 
 swayed in short, quick circles and then dove from sight. 
 A moment later it leaped from the water well away from 
 the pool and fell back with a smack which the noise of 
 the wind did not drown. To starboard was a rhythmic 
 splashing of bare limbs, where a great cottonwood, partly 
 submerged, bared its fangs. To the right of that was a 
 towhead, a newly formed island of mud and sand partly 
 awash. 
 
 The pilot cursed softly and jerked on the bell handle, 
 the boat instantly falling into half speed. He did not dare 
 to cut across the whirlpool, the snag barred him dead 
 ahead, and it was doubtful if there was room to pass be- 
 tween it and the towhead; but he had no choice in the 
 matter and he rang again, the boat falling into bare steer- 
 age way. If he ran aground he would do so gently and no 
 harm would be done. So swift was the current that the 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 41! 
 
 moment he put the wheel over a few spokes and shifted 
 the angle between the keel-line and the current direction, 
 the river sent the craft sideways so quickly that before he 
 had stopped turning the wheel in the first direction he 
 had to spin it part way back again. The snag now lay to 
 port, the towhead to starboard, and holding a straight 
 course the Missouri Belle crept slowly between them. 
 There came a slight tremor, a gentle lifting to port, and 
 he met it by a quick turn of the wheel. For a moment 
 the boat hung pivoted, its bow caught by a thrusting side 
 current and slowly swinging to port and the snag. A 
 hard yank on the bell handle was followed by a sudden 
 forward surge, a perceptible side-slip, a gentle rocking, 
 and the bow swung back as the boat, entirely free again, 
 surged past both dangers. 
 
 The pilot heaved a sigh of relief. " Peterson didn't say 
 nothin' about th' snag or th' towhead," he growled. Then 
 he grinned. " I bet he rounded inter th' edge o' th' whirler 
 afore he knowed it was thar! Now that I recollect it 
 he did seem a mite excited." 
 
 " Somethin' like a boy explorin' a cave, an' comin' face 
 to face with a b'ar," laughed Tom. " I recken you fellers 
 don't find pilotin' monotonous." 
 
 " Thar ain't no two trips alike ; might say no two miles, 
 up or down, trip after trip. Here comes th' rain, an' by 
 buckets; an' thar's th' place I been a-lookin' fer. Th' 
 bank's so high th' wind won't hardly tech us." 
 
 He signaled for half speed and then for quarter and 
 the boat no sooner had fallen into the latter than her bow 
 lifted and she came to a grating stop. The crew, which 
 had kept to shelter, sprang forward without a word and 
 as the captain crossed the bow deck the great spars were 
 
BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 being hauled forward. After the reversed paddles had 
 shown the Belle to be aground beyond their help, the 
 spars were put to work and it was not long before they 
 pushed her off again, and a few minutes later she nosed 
 against the bank. 
 
 The pilot sighed and packed his pipe. "Thar!" he 
 said, explosively. "Hyar we air, an' we ain't a-goin* 
 on ag'in till we kin see th' channel. No, sir, not if we 
 has ter stay hyar a week ! " 
 
 Tom led the way below and paused at the foot of the 
 companionway as he caught sight of Patience. He 
 glowed slightly as he thought that she had been waiting 
 for him ; and when he found that she had not yet entered 
 the cabin for breakfast, the glow became quite pro- 
 nounced. He had seen many pretty girls and had grown 
 up with them, but the fact that she was pretty was not 
 the thing which made her so attractive to him. There was 
 a softness in her speaking voice, a quiet dignity and a cer- 
 tain reserve, so honest that it needed no affectations to 
 make it sensed ; and under it all he felt that there was a 
 latent power of will that would make panicky fears and 
 actions impossible in her. And he never had perceived 
 such superb defenses against undue familiarity, superb 
 in their unobtrusiveness, which to him was proof of their 
 sincerity and that they were innate characteristics. He 
 felt that she could repel much more effectively without 
 showing any tangible signs of it than could any woman 
 he ever had met. He promised himself that the study of 
 her nature would not be neglected, and he looked for- 
 ward to it with eagerness. There was, to him, a charm 
 about her so complex, so subtle that it almost completed 
 the circle and became simple and apparent. 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 43- 
 
 She smiled slightly and acknowledged his bow as he 
 approached her. 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Cooper. Have you and your 
 uncle breakfasted ? " 
 
 "Not yet," she answered, turning toward the cabin. 
 " I think he is waiting for us. Shall we go in? " 
 
 The plural form of the personal pronoun sent a slight 
 thrill through him as he opened the door for her, showed 
 her to the table, and seated her so that she faced the wide 
 expanse of the river. 
 
 " I imagined that I felt bumps against the boat some- 
 time during the night," she remarked. She looked in- 
 quiringly at Tom and her uncle. "Did we strike any- 
 thing?" 
 
 "Why," Tom answered in simulated surprise, "no 
 one said anything about it to me, and I've been with the 
 pilot almost since dawn. The whole fact of the matter 
 is that this river's dangers are much over-estimated, con- 
 sidering that boats of thirty feet and under have been 
 navigating it since before the beginning of this century. 
 And they had no steam to help them, neither." 
 
 Uncle Joe appeared to be very preoccupied and took 
 no part in the conversation. 
 
 "I have heard uncle and father speak many times 
 about the great dangers attending the navigation of the 
 Missouri," she responded, smiling enigmatically, and 
 flashing her uncle a keen, swift glance. " They used to 
 dwell on it a great deal before father went out to Santa 
 Fe. So many of their friends were engaged in steamboat 
 navigation that it was a subject of deep interest to them 
 both, and they seemed to be very well informed about it." 
 She laughed lightly and again glanced at her uncle. " Since 
 
44 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 uncle learned that I might have to make the trip he has 
 talked in quite a different strain; but he did suggest, 
 somewhat hopefully, that we put up with the discomforts 
 of the overland route and make the trip in a wagon. 
 Don't you believe, Mr. Boyd, that knowledge of possible 
 dangers might be a good thing ? " 
 
 Uncle Joe gulped the last of his watery coffee, pushed 
 back, and arose. "Want to see the captain," he said. 
 " Meet you two later on deck," and he lost no time in get- 
 ting out of the cabin. 
 
 " Well," came the slow and careful answer from Tom, 
 " so many of us pass numerous dangers in our daily lives, 
 unknown, unsuspected, that we might have a much less 
 pleasant existence if we knew of them. If they are dan- 
 gers that we could guard against, knowledge of them cer- 
 tainly would be a good thing." 
 
 She nodded understandingly and looked out over the 
 tawny, turbulent flood, then leaned forward quickly; and 
 her companion did not lose this opportunity to admire her 
 profile. Coming down the stream like an arrow, with a 
 small square sail set well forward, was a keelboat, its hide- 
 protected cargo rising a foot or more above the gunwale 
 amidships. Standing near the mast was a lookout, 
 holding fast to it, and crouched on top of the cargo, the 
 long, extemporized addition to the tiller grasped firmly in 
 both hands, was the patron, or captain. Sitting against 
 the rear bulkhead of the hold and facing astern were 
 several figures covered with canvas and hides, the best 
 shift the crew could make against the weather. The 
 French-Canadian at the mast waved his hand, stopping 
 his exultant song long enough to shout a bon voyage to 
 the steamboat as he shot past, and the little boat darted 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 45 
 
 from their sight into the rain and the rolling vapor of the 
 river like a hunted rabbit into a tangle of briars. 
 
 " That's splendid ! " she exclaimed, an exultant lilt in 
 her voice. "That's the spirit of this western country: 
 direct, courageous, steadfast! Can't you feel it, Mr. 
 Boyd?" 
 
 His eyes shone and he leaned forward over the table 
 with a fierce eagerness. In that one moment he had 
 -caught a glimpse into the heart and soul of Patience 
 Cooper that fanned fiercely the flame already lighted in 
 his heart. His own feelings about the West, the almost 
 tearful reverence which had possessed him at the sight of 
 those pioneer women, many with babes at their breasts, 
 that he daily had seen come into Independence from the 
 East to leave it on the West, the hardships past great 
 enough to give pause to men of strength, but not shaking 
 their calm, quiet determination to face greater to the end 
 of that testing trail, and suffer privations in a vast wil- 
 derness ; his feelings, his hopes, his faith, had come back 
 to him in those few words almost as though from some 
 spirit mirror. He choked as he fought to master himself 
 and to speak with a level voice. 
 
 "Feel it?" he answered, his voice shaking. "I feel it 
 sometimes until the sheer joy of it hurts me ! Wait until 
 you stand on the outskirts of Independence facing the 
 sunset, and see those wagons, great and small, plodding 
 with the insistent determination of a wolverine to the dis- 
 tant rendezvous! Close your eyes and picture that ren- 
 dezvous, the caravan slowly growing by the addition of 
 straggling wagons from many feeding roads. Wait until 
 you stand on the edge of that trail, facing the west, with 
 rainbows in the mist of your eyes ! Oh, Miss Cooper, I 
 
46 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 can't — but perhaps we'd better go on deck and see what 
 the weather promises." 
 
 She did not look at him, but as she arose her hand for 
 one brief instant rested Hghtly on his outflung arm, and 
 set him aquiver with an ecstatic agony that hurt even 
 while it glorified him. He shook his head savagely, rose 
 and led the way to the door ; and only the moral fiber and 
 training passed on to him through generations of gentle- 
 men kept him from taking her in his arms and smothering 
 her with kisses; and in his tense struggle to hold him- 
 self in check he did not realize that such an indiscretion 
 might have served him well and that such a moment 
 might never come again. Holding open the door until 
 she had passed through, he closed it behind them and 
 stumbled intO' a whirling gust of rain that stung and 
 chilled him to a better mastery of himself. Opportunity 
 had knocked in vain. 
 
 " Our friends, the pilots, will not be good company on 
 a day like this," he said, gripping the rail and interposing 
 his body between her and the gusts. " The gangplank's 
 out, but there seems to be a lack of warmth in its invita- 
 tion. Suppose we go around on the other side ? " 
 
 On the river side of the boat they found shelter against 
 the slanting rain and were soon comfortably seated 
 against the cabin wall, wrapped in the blankets he had 
 coaxed from his friend, the purser, 
 
 " Just look at that fury of wind and water ! " ex- 
 claimed Patience. "I wonder where that little keelboat 
 is by now ? " 
 
 " Oh, it's scooting along like a sled down an icy slope," 
 he answered, hoping that it had escaped the hungry maw 
 of the great whirlpool off Clay Point. " They must have: 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 47 
 
 urgent reasons for driving ahead like that. It must be an 
 express from the upper Missouri posts to St. Louis. Mc- 
 Kenzie probably wants to get word to Chouteau before 
 the fur company's steamboat starts up the river. Or it 
 may be the urging of the thrill that comes with gambling 
 with death." 
 
 Behind them Uncle Joe poked his head out of the cabin 
 door and regarded them curiously. Satisfied that trou- 
 blesome topics no longer were being discussed he moved 
 forward slowly. 
 
 " Oh, here you are," he said, as though making a dis- 
 covery. " I thought I might find you out here. Captain 
 Newell ain't fit company for a savage wolf this morning. 
 Have you heard how long we're going to be tied up ? " 
 
 Tom drew a chair toward him and looked up invit- 
 ingly. " Sit down, Mr. Cooper. Why, I understand we 
 will stay here all day and night." He understood the 
 other man's restlessness and anxiety about the wait, but 
 did not sympathize with him. The longer they were in 
 making the river-run the better he would be suited. 
 
 Uncle Joe glanced out over the wild water, " Oh, well,'* 
 he sighed. "If we must, then we must. That river's 
 quite a sight ; looks a lot worse than it is. Hello ! What's 
 our reverend friend doing down there? Living in the 
 hold? " He chuckled. " If he is, it's a poor day to come 
 up for air." 
 
 They followed his glance and beheld a tall, austere, 
 long-faced clergyman emerging from the forward hatch, 
 and behind him came the pilot with whom they had 
 talked the evening before. When both had reached the 
 deck and stepped out of the rain the clergyman shook his 
 head stubbornly and continued his argument. 
 
48 ''BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 " I was told to come up on this packet and examine her 
 •carefully on the way," he asserted, doggedly. "Liquor 
 in vast quantities has been getting past both Fort 
 Leavenworth and Bellevue; and while the military in- 
 spectors may be lax, or worse, that is an accusation which 
 -cannot truthfully be brought against us at the upper 
 •agency. If I am not given honest assistance in the prose- 
 cution of my search, your captain may experience a delay 
 .at our levee that will not be to his liking. It's all the 
 same to me, for if it isn't found on our way up, it will 
 be found after we reach the agency." 
 
 "But, my reverend sir!" replied the pilot, in poorly 
 hidden anger, "you've been from one end of th' hold to 
 th' other ! You've crawled 'round like a worm, stuck yore 
 nose an' fingers inter everythin' thar war to stick 'em in ; 
 you've sounded th' flour barrels with a wipin'-stick, an' 
 jabbed it inter bags an' bales. Bein' a government in- 
 spector we've had ter let ye do it, whether we liked it or 
 not. I've got no doubts th' captain will be glad ter take 
 down th' engines, rip open th' bilers, slit th' stacks an' 
 mebby remove th' plankin' of th' hull; but — air ye 
 listenin' close, my reverend sir? If ye try ter git me ter 
 guide ye around in that thar hold ag'in, I'll prove ter ye 
 that th' life o' a perfect Christian leads ter martyrdom. 
 Jest ram that down yore skinny neck, an' be damned ter 
 ye!" 
 
 " I will not tolerate such language ! " exclaimed the in- 
 dignant shepherd. " I shall report you, sir ! " 
 
 " You kin report an' be damned ! " retorted the angry 
 pilot. " Yo're too cussed pious to be real. What's that 
 a-stickin' outer yer pocket?" 
 
 The inspector felt quickly of the pocket indicated and 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 49 
 
 pulled out a half -pint flask of liquor, and stared at it in 
 stupefaction. " Why — I " 
 
 " Yer a better actor than ye air a preacher," sneered 
 the pilot, glancing knowingly from the planted bottle 
 around the faces of the crowd which had quickly assem- 
 bled. *' O' course, you deal in precepts ; but they'd be a 
 cussed sight more convincin' fer a few examples along 
 with 'em. Good day, my reverend sir!" 
 
 The frocked inspector, tearing his eyes from the accus- 
 ing bottle and trying to close his mouth, gazed after the 
 swaggering pilot and then around the circle of grinning 
 faces. A soft laugh from above made him glance up to 
 where Patience and her companions were thoroughly 
 enjoying the episode. 
 
 " Parson, I'll have a snorter with ye," said a bewhis- 
 kered bullwhacker, striding eagerly forward, his hand 
 outstretched. " Go good on a mornin' like this." 
 
 " Save some fer me, brother," called a trapper, his keen 
 eyes twinkling. " Alius reckoned you fellers war sort o' 
 baby-like; but thar's th' makin' o' a man in you." He 
 grinned. " 'Sides, we dassn't let all that likker git up ter 
 th' Injuns." 
 
 " Shucks ! " exclaimed a raw-boned Missourian. 
 "That's only a sample he's takin' up ter Bellevue. He 
 ain't worryin' none about a little bottle like that, not with 
 th' bar'ls they got up thar. What you boys up thar do 
 with all th' likker ye take off 'n th' boats ? Nobody ever 
 saw none o' it go back down th' river." 
 
 The baited inspector hurled the bottle far out into the 
 stream and tried to find a way out of the circle, but he 
 was not allowed to break through. 
 
 "You said somethin' about Leavenworth bein' care- 
 
so ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 less, or wuss," said a soldier who was going up to that 
 post. " We use common sense, up than Thar's as much 
 likker gits past th' agencies on th' land side as ever tried 
 ter git past on th' river. Every man up-bound totes as 
 much o' it as he kin carry. Th' fur company uses judg- 
 ment in passin' it out, fer it don't want no drunken In- 
 juns; but th' free traders don't care a rip. If th' 
 company ain't got it, then th' Injuns trade whar they kin 
 git it; an' that means they'll git robbed blind, an' bilin' 
 drunk in th' bargain. If I had my way, they'd throw th' 
 hull kit of ye in th' river." 
 
 "That's right," endorsed a trapper, chuckling, and 
 slapping the inspector on the back with hearty strength. 
 "You hold this hyar boat to th' bank at Bellevue jest as 
 long as ye kin, parson. It makes better time than th' 
 boys goin' over th' land, an' 'tain't fair ter th' boys. 
 Think ye kin hold her a hull week, an' give my pardners 
 a chanct ter beat her ter th' Mandan villages?" He 
 looked around, grinning. "Them Injuns must have a 
 hull passel o' furs a-waitin' fer th' first trader." 
 
 "What's th' trouble here?" demanded the captain, 
 pushing roughly through the crowd. "What's th' 
 trouble ? " 
 
 "Nothing but the baiting of a government inspector 
 and a wearer of the cloth," bitterly answered the encir- 
 cled minister. 
 
 " Oh," said the captain, relieved. " Wall, ye git as ye 
 give. Are ye through with th' hold ? " 
 
 The inspector sullenly regarded him. "I think so," 
 he answered. 
 
 The captain wheeled to one of the crew. "Joe, throw 
 on that hatch, lock it, and keep it locked until we get to 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 51 
 
 Bellevue," he snapped. "We're ready to comply with 
 government regulations, at the proper time and place. 
 You and your friends can root around all you want after 
 we get to Bellevue. The next time I find you in the hold 
 with a lighted candle I'll take it away from you and lock 
 you in there." He turned, ordered the crowd to disperse 
 and went back to the texas. 
 
 It was an old story, this struggle to get liquor past the 
 posts to the upper Missouri, and there were tricks as yet 
 untried. From the unexpected passage of this up-bound 
 inspector, going out to his station at the agency, and his 
 officious nosings, it was believed by many that any licjuor 
 on board would not have a chance to get through. And 
 why should the Belle be carrying it, since her destination 
 and turning point was Bellevue ? 
 
 " Is it true that liquor is smuggled up the river? " asked 
 Patience as the inspector became lost to sight below. 
 
 Her companions laughed in unison. 
 
 "They not only try to get it up," answered Tom, "but 
 they succeed. I've been watching that sour-faced parson 
 on his restless ramblings about the boat, and I knew at 
 once that there must be a game on. Sometimes their 
 information is correct. However, I'll back the officers 
 of this packet against him, any time." 
 
 "I'm afraid you'd win your bet, Mr. Boyd," choked 
 the uncle. 
 
 "Uncle Joe! What do you know about it?" asked 
 his niece accusingly. 
 
 "Nothing, my dear; not a single thing!" he expostu- 
 lated, raising his hands in mock horror, his eyes resting 
 on three new yawls turned bottomside up on the deck 
 near the bow. He mentally pictured the half-dozen bull- 
 
52 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 boats stowed on the main deck near the stern, each capable 
 of carrying two tons if handled right, and he shook with 
 laughter. This year the fur company's boat carried no 
 liquor and its captain would insist on a most thorough 
 inspection at Bellevue; but the fur posts on the upper 
 river would be overjoyed by what she would bring to 
 them. After the inspection she would proceed on her 
 calm way, and tie against the bank at a proper distance 
 above the agency; just as the Belle would spend a night 
 against the bank at a proper distance below Bellevue ; and 
 what the latter would run ashore after midnight, when 
 the inquisitive minister was deep in sleep, would be 
 smuggled upstream in the smaller boats during the dark 
 of the night following, and be put aboard the fur boat 
 above. 
 
 "Uncle Joe!" said his niece. "You know some- 
 thing!" 
 
 "God help the man that don't!" snorted her uncle. 
 "Look there!" 
 
 A heavily loaded Mackinaw boat had shot around the 
 next bend. It was of large size, nearly fifty feet long 
 and a dozen wide. In the bow were four men at the 
 great oars and in the stern at the tiller was the patron, 
 singing in lusty and not unpleasant voice and in mixed 
 French and English, a song of his own composing. 
 
 Patience put a finger to her lips and enjoined silence, 
 leaning forward to catch the words floating across the 
 turbulent water, and to her they sounded thus : 
 
 " Mon pere Baptiste for Pierre Chouteau 
 He zvork lak dam in le ol' bateau; 
 
 From Union down le oV Missou 
 Lak chased, by gar, by carcajou. 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 53 
 
 *'Le coiireurs des bois, le voyageur, too. 
 He nevaire work so hard, mon Dieu, 
 
 Lak Baptist e pete an' Baptist e fits, 
 Coureurs avant on le ol' Missou. 
 
 ** McKenzie say: ' Baptist e Ladeaiix, 
 Thees lettaire you mus' geeve Chouteau; 
 
 Vous are one dam fine voyageur — 
 So hurry down le oV Missou. 
 
 "Go get vous fils an' vous chapeau, 
 You mebby lak Mackinaw bateau' — 
 
 Lak that he say, lak one dam day 
 Le voyage weel tak to ol' St. Lou!" 
 
 As the square stern of the fur-laden boat came opposite 
 the packet the mercurial patron stopped his song and 
 shouted : " Levez les perches! " and the four oars rose 
 from the water and shot into the air, vertical and rigid. 
 The pilot of the steamboat, chancing to be in the pilot 
 house, blew a series of short blasts in recognition, causing 
 the engineer to growl something about wasting his steam. 
 The crew of the Mackinaw boat arose and cheered, the 
 patron firing his pistol into the air. Gay vocal exchanges 
 took place between the two boats, and the patron, catch- 
 ing sight of Patience, placed a hand over his heart and 
 bowed, rattling off habitant French. She waved in reply 
 and watched the boat forge ahead under the thrust of 
 the perfectly timed oars. 
 
 " Mackinaw boat," said Tom, " and in a hurry. There's 
 the express. There is a belief on the river that the square 
 stem of those boats gives them a speed in rapids greater 
 than that of the current. They are very safe and handy 
 for this kind of navigation, and well built by skilled 
 
54 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 artisans at the boat yards of the principal trading posts 
 up the river. They are a great advance over the bullboat, 
 which preceded them." 
 
 "And which are still in use, makeshifts though they 
 are," said Captain Newell as he stopped beside them. 
 **But you can't beat the bullboat for the purpose for 
 which it was first made ; that of navigating the shallower 
 streams. I thought you would be glad to know that we 
 expect to be under way again early in the morning. But, 
 speaking of bullboats, did you ever see one, Miss 
 Cooper?" 
 
 " I've had them pointed out to me at St. Louis, but at 
 a distance," she answered. "Somehow they did not 
 impress me enough to cause me to remember what they 
 looked like." 
 
 "Why, I'll show you some," offered Tom eagerly. 
 " There's half a dozen on the main deck." 
 
 Uncle Joe squirmed as he glanced around, and arose 
 to leave for the card room, but the captain smiled and 
 nodded. 
 
 " Yes, that's so, Mr. Boyd. Take a look at them when 
 the rain lets up. We're always glad to carry a few of 
 them back up the river, for we find them very handy in 
 lightering cargo in case we have mean shallows that can 
 be crossed in no other way. You'd be surprised how 
 little water this boat draws after its cargo is taken 
 ashore." 
 
 "But why do they call them bullboats?" asked 
 Patience. 
 
 "They're named after the hides of the bull buffalo, 
 which are used for the covering," explained the captain. 
 "First a bundle of rather heavy willow poles are fash- 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 55 
 
 ioned into a bottom and bound together with rawhide. 
 To this other and more slender willow poles are fastened 
 by their smaller ends and curved up and out to make the 
 ribs. Then two heavy poles are bent on each side from 
 stem to stern and lashed to the ends of the ribs, forming 
 the gunwale. Everything is lashed with rawhide and 
 not a bolt or screw or nail is used. Hides of buffalo bulls, 
 usually prepared by the Indians, although the hunters and 
 trappers can do the work as well, are sewn together with 
 sinew after being well soaked. They are stretched tightly 
 over the frame and lashed securely to the gun'le, and 
 they dry tight as drumheads and show every rib. Then a 
 pitch of buffalo tallow and ashes is Vv/'orked into the seams 
 and over every suspicious spot on the hides and the boat 
 is ready. Usually a false flooring of loosely laid willow 
 poles, three or four inches deep, is placed in the bottom 
 to prevent the water, which is sure to leak in, from wet- 
 ting the cargo. In the morning the boat rides high and 
 draws only a few inches of water; but often at night 
 there may be six or eight inches slopping around inside. 
 I doubt if any other kind of a boat can be used very far 
 up on the Platte, and sometimes even bullboats can't go 
 up." 
 
 " How was it that the fur company's boat was tied at 
 the levee at St. Louis, after we left?" asked Tom. 
 "Rather late for her, isn't it?" 
 
 " Yes, it is," answered the captain. " The great event 
 on this river has always been the annual up-stream fur 
 packet. She is coming along somewhere behind us, and 
 very likely will pass us before we reach the mouth of 
 the Kaw. They take bigger chances with the river than 
 we do because they've got to get up to Fort Union and 
 
56 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 away again while there's water enough." He looked at 
 Patience. " Are you going far, Miss Cooper? " he asked, 
 anxious to get the conversation into channels more to his 
 liking, 
 
 "Santa Fe, captain," she answered as placidly as 
 though it were a shopping trip from her home to the 
 downtown stores of St. Louis. 
 
 " Well, well ! " he exclaimed, as if he had not known it 
 "That will be quite an undertaking!" 
 
 Tom Boyd was staring at her aghast, doubting his 
 ears. The slowly changing expression on his face caught 
 her attention and she smiled at him. 
 
 "You look as if you had seen a ghost, Mr. Boyd," 
 she laughed. 
 
 " I'm going to do my very best not to see one. Miss 
 Cooper; or let anyone else see one," he answered mys- 
 teriously. " I am glad that I, too, am bound for Santa 
 Fe. It is a great surprise and pleasure to learn that you 
 are going over the same trail." 
 
 " Why, didn't you say that you were going over the 
 Oregon Trail this year ? " she quickly asked. " At least, 
 J understood you that way." 
 
 "I often let my enthusiasm run away with me," he 
 answered. " Much as I would like to go out to Oregon 
 I will have to wait until my affairs will permit me to 
 follow my inclination. You see, I've made two trips to 
 Santa Fe, it has got into my blood, and there are reasons 
 why I must go over that trail again. And then, knowing 
 the trail so well, it is possible that I can make very good 
 arrangements this year. But isn't it a most remarkable 
 coincidence ? " 
 
 "Very," drily answered the captain. "By the way. 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 57 
 
 Mr. Boyd : you and Mr. Cooper seem to be quite friendly, 
 and neither of you waste much time in the company of 
 your present roommates. Seeing that you are both 
 bunked with strangers, how would it suit you if I put 
 you together in the same room? Good: then I'll speak 
 to Mr. Cooper, and if it's agreeable to him I'll have the 
 change made. Sorry to tear myself awa}?- from you two, 
 but I must be leaving now." He bowed and stepped 
 into the cabin, smiling to himself. He distinctly remem- 
 bered his conversation with the young man, only the day 
 before, when Tom had assured him with great earnestness 
 that he no longer could resist the call of the emigrant 
 trail and that he was going to follow it with the first 
 outgoing caravan. The captain was well pleased by the 
 change in the young man's plans, for he knew that the 
 niece of his old friend would be safer on her long journey 
 across the plains if Tom Boyd was a member of the 
 caravan. He turned his steps toward the gaming tables 
 to find her uncle, whom he expected would be surrounded 
 by the members of a profession which Joe Cooper had 
 forsaken many years before for a more reputable means 
 of earning a living. 
 
 The reputation of "St. Louis Joe" was known to 
 almost everyone but his niece; and the ex-gambler was 
 none too sure that she did not know it. While his name 
 was well-known, there were large numbers of gamblers 
 on both rivers, newcomers to the streams, who did not 
 know him by sight; and it was his delight to play the 
 part of an innocent and unsuspecting merchant and watch 
 them try to fleece him. Not one of the professionals on 
 the Missouri Belle knew he was playing against a man 
 who could tutor him in the finer points of his chosen 
 
58 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 art; but by this time they had held a conference or two 
 in a vain attempt to figure why their concerted efforts 
 had borne bitter fruit. One of them, smarting over his 
 moderate, but annoyingly persistent losses, was beginning 
 to get ugly. While his pocketbook was lightly touched, 
 his pride was raw and bleeding. Elias Stevens was 
 known as a quick-tempered man whom it were well not 
 to prod ; and Joseph Cooper was prodding him again and 
 again, and appearing to take a quiet but deep satisfaction 
 in the operation. At first Stevens had hungered only for 
 the large sum of money his older adversary had shown 
 openly and carelessly; but now it was becoming second- 
 ary, and the desire for revenge burning in Stevens was 
 making him more and more reckless in his play. 
 
 The careless way in which Joe Cooper had shown his 
 money to arouse the avarice of the gamblers had awak- 
 ened quick interest in others outside the fraternity, and 
 other heads were planning other ways of getting posses- 
 sion of it. Two men iri particular, believing that the 
 best chance of stealing it was while the owner of it was 
 on the boat, decided to make the attempt on this night 
 If the boat should remain tied to the bank their escape 
 would be easy; and if it started before daylight they 
 could make use of the yawl, which was towed most of 
 the time, and always during a run after dark. 
 
 Captain Newell looked in at the gambling tables and 
 did not see his friend, but as he turned to look about the 
 upper end of the cabin he caught sight of him coming 
 along the deck, and stepped out to wait for him. 
 
 " Looking for me ? " asked Uncle Joe, smiling. 
 
 " Yes ; want to tell you that your young friend Boyd 
 has changed his mind and is going out to Santa Fe to 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 59 
 
 look after his numerous interests there. Ordinarily I 
 would keep my mouth shut, but I know his father and 
 the whole family, and no finer people live in St. Louis. 
 Who have you in mind to go in charge of your wagons ? " 
 
 Uncle Joe scratched his chin reflectively. " Well, I'd 
 thought of Boyd and was kinda sorry he was going out 
 over the other trail. I'll keep my eyes on the scamp. 
 Strikes me he'd take my wagons through for his keep, 
 under the circumstances ! He-he-he ! Changed his mind, 
 has he? D — d if I blame him; I'd 'a' gone farther'n 
 that, at his age, for a girl like Patience. How about a 
 little nip, for good luck ? " 
 
 "Not now. How would you like to change sleeping 
 partners?" asked the captain, quickly explaining the 
 matter. 
 
 " First rate idea; th' partner I got now spends most of 
 his nights scratching. Better shift me instead of him, 
 or Boyd'll get cussed little sleep in that bunk." 
 
 Captain Newell leaned against the cabin and laughed. 
 ** All right, Joe ; I'll have your things taken out and the 
 change made by supper time, at the latest. Look out those 
 gamblers in there don't skin you." 
 
 True to his word the captain shifted Joe Cooper to 
 the room of his new friend, and sent the bull-necked, 
 bullwhacking bully who had shared Tom's cabin to take 
 the ex-gambler's former berth. This arrangement was 
 suitable both ways, for not only were the two friends put 
 together, but the two loud-voiced, cursing, frontier 
 toughs found each other very agreeable. They had made 
 each other's acquaintance at the camp-fire on the bank 
 the night previous and like many new and hastily made 
 
6o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 friendships, it had not had time to show its weaknesses. 
 One of them had stolen a bottle of liquor at the camp 
 fire carousal and upon learning of the change shortly 
 after supper, had led his new roommate to their joint 
 quarters to celebrate the event ; where they both remained. 
 
 The early part of the night was passed as usual, 
 Uncle Joe at the card tables, Tom Boyd with Patience 
 and later mingling with the hunters and trappers in the 
 cabin until his eyes became heavy and threatened to 
 close. Leaving his friend at the table, he went to their 
 room and in a few moments was so fast asleep that he 
 did not hear the merchant come in. It seemed to him that 
 he had barely closed his eyes when he awakened with a 
 start, sitting up in the berth so suddenly that he soundly 
 whacked his head against the ceiling. He rolled out and 
 landed on the floor like a cat, pistol in hand, just as his 
 roommate groped under the pillow for his own pistol 
 and asked what the trouble was all about. 
 
 The sound of it seemed to fill the boat. Shouts, curses, 
 crashes against the thin partition located it for them as 
 being in the next room, and lighting a candle, the two 
 friends, pistols in hands, cautiously opened the door just 
 as one of the boat's officers came running down the 
 passage-way with a lantern in his hand. There was a 
 terrific crash in the stateroom and they saw him put 
 down the light and leap into a dark shadow, and roll out 
 into sight again in a tangle of legs and arms. Other 
 doors opened and night-shirted men poured out and filled 
 the passage. 
 
 The battle in the stateroom had taken an unexpected 
 
 turn the moment the officer appeared, for the door sagged 
 
 suddenly, burst from its hinges and flew across the nar* 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PL'ANsr 6i 
 
 row way, followed by a soaring figure, to one leg of 
 which Ebenezer Whittaker, bully bullwhacker of the 
 Santa Fe trail, was firmly fastened. After him dived 
 his new friend, who once had ruled a winter-bound party 
 of his kind in Brown's hole with a high and mighty 
 hand. The trapper went head first into the growling 
 pair rolling over the floor, his liquor-stimulated zeal not 
 permitting him to waste valuable time in so small a mat- 
 ter as the identity of the combatants. He knew that one 
 of them was his new roommate, the other a prowling 
 thief, and being uncertain in the poor light as to which 
 was which, he let the Goddess of Chance direct his ener- 
 gies. 
 
 At the other end of the passage-way the boat's officer, 
 now reinforced by so many willing helpers that the affair 
 was fast taking on the air of a riot, at last managed to 
 drag the thief's lookout from the human tangle and 
 hustle him into the eager hands of three of the crew, 
 leaving the rescuers to fight it out among themselves, 
 which they were doing with praiseworthy energy and 
 impartial and indefinite aims. Considering that they did 
 not know whom they were fighting, nor why, they were 
 doing so well that Tom wondered what force could with- 
 stand them if they should become united in a compelling 
 cause and concerted in their attack. 
 
 At the inner end of the passage, having beaten, choked, 
 and gouged the thief into an inert and senseless mass, 
 the bullwhacker turned his overflowing energies against 
 his new and too enthusiastic friend, and they rolled into 
 the stateroom, out again, and toward the heaving pile at 
 the upper end of the hall. Striking it in a careless, hap- 
 hazard but soHd manner, just as it was beginning to 
 
62 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 disintegrate into its bruised and angry units, the fighting 
 pair acted upon it like a galvanic current on a reflex cen- 
 ter; and forthwith the scramble became scrambled anew. 
 
 Finally, by the aid of capstan-bars, boat hooks, axe 
 handles, and cordwood, the boat's officers and crew man- 
 aged to pry the mass apart and drag out one belligerent 
 at a time. They lined them up just as Captain Newell 
 galloped down the passage-way, dressed in a pair of 
 trousers, reversed ; one rubber boot and one red sock and 
 a night shirt partly thrust inside the waistband of the 
 trousers; but he was carefully and precisely hatted with 
 a high-crowned beaver. He looked as if he were coming 
 from a wake and going to a masquerade. Notwithstand- 
 ing the very recent and exciting events he received a 
 great amount of attention. 
 
 "What-in-hell's-th'-matter?" he angrily demanded, 
 glaring around him, a pistol upraised in one hand, the 
 other gripping a seasoned piece of ash. "Answer-me-I- 
 say-what-in-hell's-th'-matter-down-here ? " 
 
 "There was a fight," carefully explained the weary 
 officer. 
 
 " Hell's -bells -I -thought- it- was- a- prayer -meetin' ! " 
 yelped the captain. " Who-was-fightin' ? " 
 
 " They was/' answered the officer, waving both hands 
 in all directions. 
 
 "What-about?" 
 
 The officer looked blank and scratched his head, care- 
 fully avoiding the twin knobs rising over one ear. 
 *' Damned if / know, sir!" 
 
 "Were you fightin', Flynn?" demanded the captain 
 aggressively and with raging suspicion. " Come, up with 
 it, were you?" 
 
TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS '&^ 
 
 "No, sir; I was a-stoppin' it." 
 
 "My G — d! Then don't you never dare start one!" 
 snapped the captain, staring around. " You look like the 
 British at N'Orleans," he told the line-up. "What was 
 it all about? Hell's bells ! It must 'a' had a beginning! " 
 
 "Yessir," replied the officer. "It sorta begun all at 
 once, right after th' explosion." 
 
 "What explosion?" 
 
 " I dunno. I heard it, 'way up on th' hurricane deck,, 
 an' hustled right down here fast as I could run. Just 
 as I got right over there," and he stepped forward and 
 with his foot touched the exact spot, " that there state- 
 room door come bustin' out right at me. I sorta ducked 
 to one side, an' plumb inter somebody that hit me on th' 
 eye. I reckon th' fightin' was from then on. Excuse 
 me, sir ; but you got yore pants on upside-down — I means 
 stern-foremost, sir." 
 
 " What's my pants got to do with this disgraceful riot, 
 or mebby mutiny ? " blazed the reddening captain. He 
 couldn't resist a downward glance over his person, and 
 hastily slipped the red-socked foot behind its booted mate. 
 
 Somebody snickered and the sound ran along the line, 
 gathering volume. Glaring at the battle-scarred line-up. 
 Captain Newell waved the pistol and seemed at a loss for 
 words. 
 
 Uncle Joe stepped forward with the buUwhacker. 
 "Captain, this man says he woke up an' found a thief 
 reachin' under his pillow, where he keeps his bottle, i 
 think the thief is against the wall, there ; and his partner, 
 who doubtless acted as his lookout, is in the hands ol 
 those two men. The rest of th' fightin' was promiscuous, 
 but well meant. I reckon if you put those two thieves 
 
64 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 in irons an' let th' rest of us go back to our berths it'll 
 ibe th' right thing to do. As for Flynn, he deserves credit 
 for his part in it." 
 
 " That's my understanding of it, captain," said Tom, 
 and again burst out laughing. "Evidently they were 
 laf ter Mr. Cooper's money, which he has shown recklessly, 
 and they did not know that he had changed staterooms." 
 
 " Reckon that's it, captain ! " shouted someone, laugh- 
 ingly. " Anyhow, it's good enough. Come on, captain ; 
 it's time for a drink all 'round ! " 
 
 In another moment a shirt-tailed picnic was in full 
 swing, the bottles passing rapidly. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE INSULT 
 
 SHORTLY after dawn Tom awakened and became 
 conscious of a steady vibration and the rhythmical 
 splash of the paddle wheel. Hurriedly dressing he went 
 out on deck and glanced shoreward. The cream-and- 
 chocolate colored water, of an opacity dense enough to 
 hide a piece of shell only a quarter of an inch below its 
 surface, rioted past; to port was a low-lying island cov- 
 ered with an amazing mass of piled-up trees, logs and 
 debris, deposited there by the racing current of the rapid- 
 ly-falling stream ; and the distant shore was covered with 
 dense forests of walnut and cottonwood, interspersed 
 with rich bottoms masked by tangles of brush. Farther 
 up he knew the sight would change into an almost treeless 
 expanse of green prairies, gashed by scored bluffs of clay. 
 The surface of the river was not smooth and the wind 
 already had reached disturbing strength, while an occa- 
 sional gust of chilling rain peppered the water and 
 assaulted the boat. From the beat of the paddles and the 
 high frequency of the vibrations he knew the Belle was 
 going ahead under full steam, but his momentary frown 
 was effaced by the thought that the pilot was competent 
 and knew what he was doing. Still, he felt a little uneasy, 
 and went forward to pay the pilot a visit. 
 
 Reaching the hurricane deck he saw both pilots at the 
 wheel and also a lookout on the roof of the little house^ 
 65 
 
66 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 while in the very point of the bow, on the main deck, 
 another lookout was scrutinizing the river ahead. 
 
 " We're makin' good time," said Tom pleasantly as he 
 poked his head in the pilot house. 
 
 "Yes," came an answering grunt; "too good, mebby." 
 
 His words and manner were not calculated to encourage 
 conversation and the visitor went down to see about 
 breakfast. Fortified by a cup of coffee he felt able to 
 wait until the meal was ready and went out on deck 
 again, standing in the shelter of an angle of the cabin, 
 pretending to be interested in the slowly shifting pano- 
 rama, but really impatiently waiting for the appearance 
 of Patience Cooper. He had waited for about an hour, 
 hardly stirring from his post near the door which she 
 had used the morning before, when he caught sight of 
 her crossing the cabin. Turning from the window and 
 stepping forward he opened the door for her and after a 
 short, cheerful talk about being under way again, led her 
 to the breakfast table, ignoring the scowling horse-dealer 
 who sat at a table in a corner talking to Elias Stevens. 
 
 Their breakfast did not take as long as it had on the 
 previous morning, one reason being that while they ate 
 they sensed the boat turn toward the shore and before 
 they had finished it stopped along the bank and moored 
 again. 
 
 " I do believe the rain has ceased for the day," Patience 
 observed, peering out of the window by her side. " It is 
 growing brighter every minute. I wonder why the boat 
 has stopped?" 
 
 " Too much wind," answered her companion, nodding 
 at the waves running past the boat. 
 
 "If that is all, I'm going ashore," she declared. 
 
THE INSULT 67 
 
 "You may find it disagreeable," warned Tom, de- 
 lighted by the prospect of a tramp with her. " It is bound 
 to be wet under foot and the wind will be cold and pene- 
 trating; but if you don't mind it, I'm sure / don't. " He 
 finished his coffee and smiled, " It will be a great relief 
 to get off this boat." 
 
 " Come on, then ; I'll meet you at the landing stage in 
 ten minutes," she exclaimed. "This will be a good 
 opportunity to get accustomed to the heavy boots Uncle 
 Joe had made for me. They smell like tallow candles 
 with leather wicks, if you can imagine the combination." 
 
 He saw her enter her stateroom and then went to his 
 own, got his rifle and stood at the gangplank like a sentry. 
 In less than the allotted time she joined him, waved gaily 
 at her uncle and the captain, who were talking together 
 near the pilot house, and went, down the sloping plank, 
 eager to explore the river bank. As they reached the top 
 of the terrace-like bank and turned to wave again, the 
 sun broke through the clouds and turned the moisture- 
 laden trees and brush into a jeweled fairyland. They 
 did not go far south since they were restricted to the 
 more open spaces where they could walk without rubbing 
 against wet foliage, but they found comparatively open 
 lanes along the top of the bank, from where they could 
 keep watch over the packet and get back without undue 
 haste at the sound of her warning whistle. 
 
 They crossed the trails of several animals and she 
 listened with interest to her companion's description of 
 their makers, wondering at his intimate knowledge of 
 animal habits. Finally, coming to a great cottonwood 
 log, stripped of its bark and shining in the sunlight, he 
 helped her upon it and sat down by her side. 
 
BRING ME HIS BARS' 
 
 " You surprised me, Miss Cooper, when you mentioned 
 you were going to Santa Fe," he said, turning to one of 
 the subjects uppermost in his mind. "It is a long, 
 tedious, trying journey to men, and it must prove infin- 
 itely more so to a woman." 
 
 " I suppose so," she replied reflectively. " But you 
 know, Mr. Boyd, I haven't seen my father in five years, 
 and his letter, sent back by the eastbound caravan from 
 Santa Fe last year, told us how he missed me and how 
 dissatisfied he was with his housekeeping arrangements 
 and how he dreaded to spend another winter away from 
 us. It was too late then, of course, to make the trip, but 
 I determined to go to him with the first caravan leaving 
 Independence this spring. Uncle Joe fumed and fussed 
 about it and collected all the stories of privation, loss 
 of sanity and sudden death, and everything else of a 
 deterring nature and brought them home to me to serve 
 as warnings. I can do anything I want with him except 
 keep him from gambling, and when he really understood 
 that nothing could stop me, he gave in and I soon had 
 him so busy explaining away the woeful tales he had 
 brought me, and hunting up new ones of a bright and 
 cheerful aspect that he half believed them himself. I 
 learned that all the Indians were pets, that there were 
 miles of flowers all the way, that people near death from 
 all kinds of causes miraculously recovered their health 
 by the end of the first two days, and that the caravan 
 had to watch closely to keep its members from leaving 
 it and settling all along the trail." 
 
 They burst out laughing together. He could easily 
 picture her uncle frantically reversing himself. He had 
 taken a great liking to Joseph Cooper, who was a hurnor- 
 
THE INSULT 69 
 
 ous, warm-hearted old fox among his friends, delighting 
 in their pleasures and sunning himself complacently in 
 their approbation. No trouble was too great for him to 
 go through if it would bring happiness to those he cared 
 for. 
 
 They laughed and chatted and enjoyed themselves 
 greatly, and were very much surprised when his lean 
 figure appeared beside the pilot house and they saw him 
 wave his hat and motion toward his mouth with anima- 
 tion and great exaggeration. 
 
 " Good heavens ! Is it dinner time already? " exclaimed 
 Tom, sliding from the log, and becoming aware for tb.5 
 first time that the log had been far from as drjr as he 
 thought. 
 
 Laughing and scampering, they hurried back toward 
 the landing, racing down the hill that led to the little 
 opening in the grove not far from the water's edge. As 
 they started down it Tom caught sight of several figures 
 sprawled on the sand, which had dried quickly under the 
 combined attacks of sun and wind. Among them he saw 
 the lank form of Ephriam Schoolcraft slowly arising 
 to one elbow as the horse-dealer turned and watched thern 
 come down the incline. 
 
 Patience stumbled, her heavy boots bothering her, and 
 her companion checked himself and caught her as she 
 pitched forward. Swinging her through the air, he put 
 her down again on the other side of him and laughingly 
 offered his arm. 
 
 " Thar ain't nothin' like 'lasses fer to draw flies," came 
 the drawling, unpleasant' voice of the sneering figure on 
 the ground. " Blow flies air included. Wrap it in skirts 
 an' young fellers make plumb fools o' theirselves. Anj] 
 
TO ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 flirt kin pull th' wool over thar eyes like it war a loose 
 skin cap." His raucous laugh was doubly disagreeable 
 because of the sneer envenoming it, and Tom stiffened. 
 
 "I seed an example o' that right yere on this hyar 
 packet; an' most likely I'll see a hull lot more o' it if I 
 has patience. He-he-he!" 
 
 Tom checked his stride, but the quick, reassuring pres- 
 sure on his arm made him keep on, his burning face held 
 rigidly toward the boat. He dared not look at his com- 
 panion. They walked silently up the landing stage and 
 into the cabin, Tom waiting with ill concealed impatience 
 lintil his companion should join her uncle at the table. 
 But he was surprised, for she spoke in a pleasant, soft 
 tone and ordered him to remain where he was for a few 
 minutes. Before he could make up his mind what she 
 meant he saw her lean over her uncle's table and say 
 something. The ex-gambler pushed suddenly back, pat- 
 ted her on the head and walked briskly but nonchalantly 
 tovv'^ard the curious onlooker. 
 
 " You young folks never have any regard for an old 
 man's comfort," he chuckled as he took hold of Tom's 
 arm. "Now, sir, I'll take great pleasure in stretching 
 my legs in any direction you may select, and in stretching 
 the neck of any officious meddler. I am at your service, 
 Tom; and, damn it, I'm not too old to become a princi- 
 pal!" 
 
 Tom stared at him for a moment as the words sunk 
 in. "By G — d!" he murmured. "There ain't another 
 like her in th' whole, wide world! Thank you, Mr. 
 Cooper: if you'll be kind enough to stand on one side 
 and keep the affair strictly between myself and that pole- 
 cat, I'll try not to keep you from your dinner very long. 
 
THE INSULT 71 
 
 He might have been decent enough to have picked his 
 quarrel in some other way ! " 
 
 Schoolcraft arose alertly as they entered the little 
 clearing, and watched Tom hand the double-barreled rifle 
 to his companion, slip off his belt and throw his coat 
 over it. The horse-dealer grinned with savage elation 
 as he discarded his own weapons and coat, hardly be- 
 lieving in his good fortune. Not many men along the 
 border cared to meet him unarmed. 
 
 Tom stepped forward. " Every time I look at that 
 terbaccer juice a-dribblin' down yer chin, Schoolcraft, it 
 riles me," he said evenly. " I'm a-goin' ter wipe it off," 
 and his open hand struck his enemy's jaw with a 
 resounding whack as he stepped swiftly to one side. 
 "You've alius had a sneakin' grudge ag'in me," he 
 asserted, giving ground before the infuriated horse- 
 dealer, "since I caught ye cheatin' at Independence. 
 You've been tryin' ter work it off ever since we left th' 
 levee. I reckon this belongs to you ! " 
 
 He stepped in quickly and drove his right fist into 
 Schoolcraft's mouth, avoiding the flailing blows. " If 
 ye'll stand up ter it an' make it a fight," he jeered, " I'll 
 be much obliged to ye, fer I've promised my friend not 
 ter keep him from his dinner." Again he stepped in 
 and struck the bleeding lips. He boxed correctly accord- 
 ing to the times, except that he used his feet to good 
 advantage. His education at an eastern university had 
 been well rounded and he never allowed himself to get 
 out of condition. 
 
 Schoolcraft, stung to fury, leaped forward to grapple, 
 hoping to make it a rough-and-tumble affair, at which 
 style of fighting he had but few equals. Instead of his 
 
'J2 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 adversary stepping to one side, he now stood solidly 
 planted in one spot, his left foot a little advanced, and 
 drove in a series of straight-arm blows that sent the 
 horse-dealer staggering back. The younger man pressed 
 his advantage, moving forward with unswerving deter- 
 mination, his straight punches invariably beating the 
 ill-timed and terrific swings of his bleeding opponent, 
 who showed a vitality and an ability to take punishment 
 not unusual among the men of his breed. The horse- 
 dealer knew that if the fight remained an open affair he 
 would not last long, and he got command over his rage 
 and began to use his head. 
 
 Suddenly he dropped to hands and knees under a 
 right-hand blow that was a little short of hurting him,, 
 and sprang up under his enemy's guard, and brought 
 exultant ejaculations from his little group of friends. 
 But for the warning conveyed to Tom by the knowledge 
 that he barely had touched the horse-dealer's jaw with 
 that blow, and could not have knocked him down,, the 
 trick might have worked; and as it was it succeeded in 
 bringing the two men to close grips. Schoolcraft's right 
 arm slid around his enemy's waist and hugged him close, 
 while the left slipped up between them until the hand 
 went under the younger man's chin and began to push it 
 up and back. It was the horse-dealer's favorite and most 
 deadly trick and he exulted as he arched his back and 
 threw his full strength into the task. Never had it failed 
 to win, for the victim of that hold must either quit or 
 have his neck broken; and the choice did not rest with 
 the victim. 
 
 The muscles of Tom's neck stood out as though they 
 would burst, the veins of his forehead and throat swelling 
 
THE INSULT 73 
 
 into tiny serpents, and his crimson face grew darker and 
 darker, a purplish tint creeping into it. But Schoolcraft 
 found that he was dealing with a man who had studied 
 wrestling as eagerly as its sister science. He also found 
 that there was a counter to his favorite hold, always pro- 
 viding that it had been robbed of its greatest factor: 
 surprise. For it to be deadly effective his whole strength 
 had to be thrown into it instantly and meet no ready, 
 rigid opposition; and in this he had failed because of the 
 subtle warning conveyed to his adversary when he fell 
 before a harmless blow. Almost before he knew it 
 Tom's left arm, circling high in air, jammed in between 
 their heads and forced its way down to Schoolcraft's 
 cheek. At the same instant the right hand dashed down 
 and got a fold inside his left thigh, close up against the 
 crotch ; and as the left arm thrust his head sidewise with 
 a power not to be withstood, the right hand lifted sud- 
 denly to the right and he struck the ground on his head 
 and shoulder with a shock which rendered him senseless. 
 
 The winner staggered back, braced himself and swayed 
 a little on his feet as ke sucked in great gulps of air. He 
 wheeled savagely as he heard a shuffling step to one side 
 and slightly behind him, but the precaution was not 
 necessary, for simultaneously with the shuffling came Joe 
 Cooper's snapped warning, cold and deadly. 
 
 " Better stop, Stevens ! I'm only lookin' for an excuse 
 to blow you open ! " 
 
 Elias Stevens obeyed, standing irresolute and scowl- 
 ing. " You talk d — d big behind a gun ! " he sneered. 
 
 "Only half as big as I might, seeing it's a double 
 gun," retorted the older man. " If it don't suit you we 
 can turn, step off ten paces an' fire when we're ready. 
 
74 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Might as well make a good job of it while we're about 
 it. I ain't no Mike Fink; but you ain't no Carpenter, 
 so I reckon it's purty even." 
 
 " I'll take care of any objectors, in any fashion," said 
 Tom, facing Stevens and the others. " I'll be ready fer 
 you, Stevens, by th' time you get your weapons an' coat 
 off, if you choose that way. Pickin' on an old man don't 
 go while there's a younger one around; an', besides, it's 
 my quarrel. There it is, in your teeth; take it, and eat 
 it!" 
 
 "It war a fair fight," said an onlooker in grudging 
 admiration. He expressed the ethics of the fighting cur- 
 rent at that time in that part of the country. Any kind of 
 fighting, be it with hands, feet, nails, teeth or other 
 weapons was fair as long as no outsider took a hand in 
 it. It had been the rule of the keelboatmen and they had 
 carried it up and down the waterways, from New Or- 
 leans to the upper Mississippi and from Pittsburg to 
 the Rockies. 
 
 Tom nodded. "All right. You can tell him that he 
 won't get in close, next time," he said, glancing at the 
 stirring loser. "Come on. Uncle Joe; your dinner's 
 plumb cold an' ruined." 
 
 " I'm hot enough to warm it as I chaw ! " snapped his 
 friend. " I was scared for a moment, though ; fighting 
 out in this country don't get you nothin' but a tombstone, 
 generally, an' you'll be cussed lucky if you get that. But 
 you did what you started out to do ; I couldn't see no to- 
 bacco juice on his chin th' last time I looked." He fol- 
 lowed his companion down the bank and as they crossed 
 the gangplank he chuckled, " I won't eat no liver for a 
 long time, I reckon : his face near made me sick ! " 
 
THE INSULT 7s 
 
 "I shouldn't 'a' cut him up so," admitted Tom; "but 
 I was working off a grudge. Next time, I'll kill him." 
 Then he thought of Patience and glowed all over. 
 "There ain't another like her, nowhere!" he muttered. 
 
 Uncle Joe glanced sideways at the slightly marked 
 face of his companion, shrewdly noting the expression 
 of reverent awe and adoration. 
 
 "Young man," he said, "you're a little mite hasty, 
 but I like 'em that way. I reckon if you took my wag- 
 gins inter Santa Fe you'd get patience." 
 
 At this second play on her name within the last half 
 hour Tom whirled in his tracks and held out his hand. 
 " Uncle Joe, if you think I'm able to handle 'em, I'll take 
 'em through h — 1 if I have to, without a blister — " then 
 he faltered and his face grew hard as he shook his head 
 in regret. "I can't do it," he growled. "It wouldn't 
 be fair to bring down Armijo's wrath on your niece and 
 brother. He'd hound them like the savage brute he is. 
 No; you'll have to keep to whatever arrangements you 
 had in mind." 
 
 Uncle Joe shook his head. "That's too bad, Tom. 
 I was counting on you keeping an eye on Patience and 
 seeing her through. It's too cussed bad." 
 
 Tom's laugh rang out across the water. "Oh, I'm 
 going to do that! I'm bound for Santa Fe, either as a 
 free lance or with trade goods of my own ; but I am not 
 going with your wagons. I got it pretty well figured 
 out." 
 
 "I'm alius gettin' into places where I've got to back 
 out," grumbled Uncle Joe. " Now I reckon I'll have to 
 tell Patience you're too young an' giddy to handle my 
 outfit. An' then mebby I'll have to back out ag'in ! Tell 
 
76 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 you one thing, this here Santa Fe trip may be fine for 
 invalids, but it ain't done my health no good ! " While 
 Tom laughed at him he considered. "Huh! I don't 
 reckon it'll be a good thing to let her know that you an* 
 Armijo are as friendly as a Cheyenne an' a Comanche, 
 Cuss it ! Oh, well ; put away this gun an' come on in an* 
 eat, if there's anything left" 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 INDIANS AND GAMBLIjRS • 
 
 SHORTLY after noon the wind died down enough to 
 let the packet resume her up-stream labors, and ex- 
 pectations ran high that she would make a long, peaceful 
 run. They were not to be reahzed. 
 
 The first unpleasant incident occurred when the boat 
 had been run against a bank at a woodpile to replenish 
 her fuel. The lines were made fast and the first of the 
 wood-carriers had reached the stacked cordwood when 
 from behind it arose a dozen renegade Indians, willing 
 to turn momentarily from their horse-stealing expedition 
 long enough to levy a tribute of firewater on the boat. 
 They refused to allow a stick to be removed without 
 either a fight or a supply of liquor and trade goods, and 
 the leader of the band grappled with the foremost mem- 
 ber of the crew and tried to drag him behind the shelter 
 of the pile and so gain a hostage to give additional weight 
 to their demands and to save them from being fired on. 
 
 Goaded by despair and fright from the unexpectedness 
 of the attack and what might be in store for him the 
 white man struggled desperately and, with the return of 
 a measure of calmness, worked a neat cross-buttock on 
 his red adversary and threw him sprawling out in plain 
 sight of the boat. Half a dozen plainsmen on board had 
 leaped for their rifles and shouted the alarm; a four 
 pound carronade was wheeled swiftly into position and a 
 77 
 
78 "BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 charge of canister sent crashing over the woodpile into 
 the brush and trees. The roar of the gun and the racket 
 caused by the charge as it rattled through the branches 
 and brush filled the savages with dismay and, not daring 
 to run from the pile and up the bank under the cannon 
 and the rapidly augmented rifles on the decks of the boat, 
 they raised their hands and slowly emerged from their 
 worthless breastwork. 
 
 Captain Newell shouted frantic instructions to his grim 
 and accurate volunteers, ordering and begging in one 
 breath for them not to fire, for he knew that bloodshed 
 would start a remorseless sniping warfare along the 
 river that might last for several seasons. At such a game 
 the snipers on the banks, concealed as they would be, 
 could reasonably be expected to run up quite a list of cas- 
 ualties on the boat. This was no new experience for him 
 and he knew that nothing serious would grow out of it 
 as long as none of the Indians were injured. This little 
 party was composed of the renegade scourings of the 
 frontier tribes which had been debauched by their contact 
 with the liquor-selling whites and they were more fitted 
 for petty thievery than the role of warriors. He shouted 
 and argued and cursed and pleaded with the eager rifle- 
 men, most of whom burned with the remembrance of 
 stolen packs of furs and equipment at the hands of such 
 Indians as these. 
 
 The growling plainsmen, knowing that he was right 
 and understanding his position, reluctantly kept their 
 trigger fingers extended and finally lowered their pieces, 
 hoping that the Indians would lose their heads and do 
 some overt act ; but the Indians were not fools, whatever 
 else they, might have been. With eager alertness on one 
 
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 79 
 
 side and sullen acquiescence on the other the wooding 
 was finished, ropes cast off and the Missouri Belle pushed 
 quickly out into the stream, her grimi faced defenders- 
 manning the stern decks and praying for an excuse ta 
 open fire. 
 
 No sooner had a reasonable distance been opened be-- 
 tween the boat and the bank than the Indians, at a signal 
 from their leader, leaped behind the woodpile and opened 
 fire on the boat with muskets and bows and arrows, the 
 latter weapons far more accurate than the miserable trade 
 guns which a few of the bravesi carried. With them 
 dropping an arrow is an instinct and they have developed 
 it to a degree that is remarkable, to say the least; while 
 with the smooth-bore trade guns, with varying charges 
 of trade powder and sizes of balls, they were poor shots 
 at any distance. Instantly two score rifles replied from 
 the boat, pouring their leaden hail into the stacked wood, 
 but without any noticeable result; and before a second 
 round could be fired the distance had been increased ta 
 such an extent that only one or two excitable tenderf eet 
 tried a second shot. The chief result of the incident was 
 the breaking of the monotony of the trip and the starting 
 of chains of reminiscences among the hunters and trap- 
 pers to which the tenderfeet listened with eager ears. 
 
 After this flurry of excitement interest slowly swung 
 far astern, where the American Fur Company's boat was 
 supposed to be breasting the current on her long voyage 
 to Fort Union and beyond, and many eyes were on the 
 lookout for a glimpse of her smoke. A sight of the 
 boat itself, except at close range, was almost hopeless 
 because the bends in the river were so numerous and 
 close together that the stream seemed Hke a narrow lake. 
 
So "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The surface of the water was becoming different from 
 what it had been, for the great masses of floating debris 
 liad thinned and no longer came down in raf t-Hke forma- 
 tions. This was due to the rapid falling of the water, 
 which had stranded more and more of the bulkier drift 
 and piled it up at the head of every island, emerging bar 
 and jutting point. At the height of the freshets, espe- 
 cially the April rise, often the logs and trees came down 
 so thick and solid that they resembled floating islands. 
 This was in large measure due to the simultaneous float- 
 ing of the vast accumulations piled up all along the banks, 
 and it aroused disgust and anxiety in the hearts of the 
 boatmen, who feared for hulls and paddle wheels. 
 
 The harmless brush with the Indians and the stories 
 the affair had started quickened interest in firearms, and 
 during the rest of the afternoon there was considerable 
 target practice against the ducks, geese, and debris, and 
 an occasional long shot at some animal on the distant 
 bank. 
 
 Tom Boyd did his share of this, glad of the oppor- 
 tunity to try out his new and strange weapons, and to put 
 off meeting Patience Cooper as long as he could, fearing 
 her attitude concerning his fight with Schoolcraft. He 
 found that the newly marketed Colt six-shooter was 
 accurate and powerful at all reasonable ranges, beauti- 
 fully balanced and well behaving. It attracted a great 
 deal of attention from fellow travelers, for it was not 
 as well-known in Missouri as it was in other parts of 
 the country. The English rifle, not much heavier than 
 the great Hawken weapons of his companions, despite 
 its two barrels, shot true and strong, and the two ready 
 shots at his command easily recompensed him for the 
 
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS Se 
 
 additional weight. At this time, in the country into 
 which he was going, an instantly available second shot 
 had an importance not to be overlooked. To the Indians, 
 especially, was it disconcerting, and its moral effect par- 
 took of the nature of magic and made a white man's 
 "medicine" that demanded and received a wholesome 
 respect. He found that it followed the rough and ready 
 rule of the frontier that up to a hundred yards the proper 
 charge was as much powder as would cover the bullet 
 in the palm of the hand. In the long range shots the 
 weapon was surprisingly accurate, and one thoughtful 
 and intelligent hunter, who had guided several English 
 sporting parties, gave the credit to the pointed bullets. 
 
 "Thar ain't no doubt about it, pardner," he confided 
 to Tom as he slyly produced his own bullet mold, and 
 showed it to his companion. " I've tried 'em out in my, 
 own rifle, an' they shore do shoot straighter an' further. 
 This hyar mold war give ter me by a city hunter I had 
 in my party when we found it would fit my rifle. I 
 ain't usin' th' old un no more. Rub a leetle b'ar grease 
 or buffaler tallow on th' patch paper, young man, ter 
 make 'em go down easier. Thar good beaver." 
 
 The sun set in a gold and crimson glory, working its 
 magic metamorphosis on river, banks, and bottoms, 
 painting the colored cliffs and setting afire the crystals 
 in which their clay was rich. Though usually the scen- 
 ery along this river at this time of the year was nothing 
 to boast of, there were certain conditions under which 
 it resembled a fairyland. The rolling wavelets bore their 
 changing colors across the glowing water and set dancing 
 myriad flashes of sunlight; streaks of sunlight reached 
 in under the trees along the bank and made fairy path^ 
 
t2 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 among* the trunks, while the imbedded crystals in the 
 clay bluffs glittered in thousands of pin-points of iri- 
 descent flame. 
 
 When supper time came around Tom still felt a little 
 reluctant to meet Patience, worried by how she might 
 greet him, although her actions preceding the fight should 
 have told him that his fears were groundless. To his 
 great relief she met him as graciously as she had before, 
 and as a matter of fact he thought he detected a little 
 more warmth and interest, but discounted this because he 
 feared that his judgment might be biased in his favor by 
 his hopes. 
 
 Uncle Joe apparently had forgotten all about the affair 
 and did not refer to it in any way, confining himself to 
 subjects connected with the great southwest highway, its 
 trade, outfitting, the organization of the caravans, the 
 merchandising at Santa Fe and bits of historical and 
 personal incidents, not forgetting to comment on the 
 personality of Armijo and his arbitrary impost of five 
 hundred dollars on each wagon to cross the boundary, 
 regardless of what its contents might be. He chuckled 
 over the impost, for the goods which he had sent up to 
 Independence by an earlier boat had been selected with 
 that tax in mind. He had his own ideas about the pay- 
 ment of the impost, and although he could not entirely 
 avoid it, he intended to take a great deal of the sting out 
 of it. 
 
 He contended that the beating of unlawful duties was 
 not cheating, since it was purely a game of one individual 
 outwitting another, one being an arbitrary tyrant who 
 was strongly suspected of pocketing the wagon tax for 
 his own uses. The only trouble with his philosophy wa* 
 
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 83 
 
 •what it set going, for having proved one evasion of tax 
 to be honest it tended to go farther and justify other 
 evasions which fairly crossed the ethical boundaries. 
 One of these was the rumored prohibition of Mackinaw 
 blankets and the export tax on specie. This last would 
 be something of a hardship, for coin was the best and 
 most easily carried of all mediums of payment, and the 
 Mexican government, in levying this tax, would tend to 
 force the traders to barter rather than sell their goods. 
 If payment were had in specie, the wagons could be dis- 
 posed of at a fair profit and mules used to pack it back 
 to Missouri. When sewed tightly in rawhide bags it be- 
 came an unshifting mass by the shrinking of the leather 
 under the rays of the sun. Some of the traders took 
 mules in exchange for their goods which, if they could 
 be safely delivered in the Missouri settlements, would 
 give an additional profit of no mean per centum; but 
 losses in mules were necessarily suffered on the long 
 return trip, and the driving, corralling, and guarding of 
 a herd was a task to try the patience of a saint and the 
 ingenuity of the devil. The Indians would take almost 
 any kind of chances to stampede a herd of mules, and 
 they were adepts at the game. 
 
 Uncle Joe had been over the trail, having gone out 
 with that band of Missourians who took the first wagons 
 across from Franklin in 1824, and he had kept in close 
 touch with the New Mexican and Chihuahuan trade 
 ever since. He knew the tricks, and had invented some 
 of his own, which he guarded well. For the despotic 
 Armijo he had a vast contempt, which was universal 
 among the great majority of the men who knew any- 
 thing at all about the cruel, conceited, and dishonest Gov- 
 
84 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ernor of the Department of New Mexico. The unfortu- 
 nate Texan Santa Fe Expedition had aroused bitter 
 feelings among Americans and Texans against the Mex- 
 ican, many of them having had friends and relatives in 
 that terrible winter march of two thousand miles on foot 
 from Santa Fe to the City of Mexico, which followed so 
 close upon the heart-breaking and disastrous northward 
 march from Texas to a vile betrayal and barbarous treat- 
 ment. Anything American or Texas plainsmen could do 
 to hurt or discredit the inhuman pomposity whose rise 
 to power had been through black treachery and coldly 
 planned murder, would be done with enthusiastic zeal. 
 
 At the close of the leisurely eaten meal they went on 
 deck in time to see the John Auld round the next up- 
 stream bend and forge forward, soon stopping, however, 
 to drift past the slowed Missouri Belle while their pilots 
 exchanged terse information about the channels and 
 snags. The John Auld carried a small cargo of fur packs 
 on her main deck and a few free hunters and trappers 
 on their way to St. Louis to dispose of their goods and to 
 outfit anew. By this time the fur of the pelts slipped and 
 the fur taking season was over, but there was always the 
 buffalo to lure them afield again. 
 
 The evening was delightful and hopes ran high for an 
 uninterrupted voyage. Uncle Joe expressed the belief 
 that the boat would run all night in view of the favorable 
 weather; Tom demurring on the grounds of the rapidly 
 falling river and the blackness of the nights. The boat 
 curved sharply to avoid a jutting bar and straightened 
 out again. Prompted by sight of some of the passengers 
 who promenaded past them the talk swung to the fur 
 trade in general and to the end of it, which was rapidly 
 
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 85 
 
 being brought nearer by the great tide of emigration 
 setting in. Discussions regarding the emigrants and the 
 great Oregon Trail followed as a matter of course and 
 almost before they knew it it was time for Patience to 
 retire, and her companions soon followed her example. 
 Uncle Joe foregoing his usual night game. 
 
 When morning broke they found that they had sailed 
 nearly all the night, and the boat kept on all day, stopping 
 only at a few landings and to take on wood, of which 
 she burned an amazing quantity. Another night's run 
 brought them well up the river, but the following day 
 found them tied to a bank, because of adverse weather. 
 In the afternoon, the wind dying out, they were on the 
 way again and another night's sail was looked for. 
 Patience retired earlier than usual and when Tom re- 
 turned from seeing her safely into her room he found 
 Uncle Joe impatiently waiting for him, 
 
 " Come on, Tom," said the merchant. " I've still got 
 a lot to learn about gamblin' an' there ain't much time 
 left to do it in. Let's go back an' see if there's a game 
 runnin'. I might as well let somebody else pay th' ex- 
 penses of this trip." 
 
 Tom nodded and followed his companion into the 
 cabin set apart for men and sat down at a table with two 
 trappers, from where he could watch the game at close 
 range, for he realized that the time for the gamblers to 
 get the merchant's money also was getting short Under 
 the conditions almost anything might occur and he felt 
 that he owed a debt to his friend for the part he had 
 played during the fight with Schoolcraft. 
 
 Uncle Joe joined Stevens and a companion, who were 
 idly playing and who seemed to be impatiently and ner- 
 
^ "BRING MB HIS EARS" 
 
 vously waiting for his appearance; soon a tense game 
 was in progress. At a table in a corner from where the 
 players could be closely watched Ephriam Schoolcraft, 
 his face still badly bruised, was talking in sullen under- 
 tones to the little Mexican and another companion, while 
 hunters, traders, trappers, and men of various other call- 
 ings kept up a low hum of conversation throughout the 
 cabin. 
 
 From one group came fragments of fur trade gossip: 
 " Th' American Fur Company's talkin' about abandonin' 
 Fort Van Buren. Thar's been a lot o' posts let go to 
 grass th' last two years. Th' business ain't what it was 
 ten year ago." 
 
 " On th' other hand," replied a co^npanion, " Fox an' 
 Livingston air goin' fer to put up a post at th' mouth o* 
 th' Little Bighorn, which evens up fer Van Buren; an' 
 Chardon's aimin' fer to put one up at th' mouth o' th' 
 Judith. Th' trade's all right, only th' American's got 
 more buckin' agin' it." 
 
 " 'Tain't what it onct was, though," said a third trader. 
 " Thar's too many posts an' private parties. Ye can't go 
 nowhere hardly in th' Injun country without comin' slap 
 up ag'in a post o' some kind. Thar's Zack: hey, Zack! 
 Come over hyar!" 
 
 Zack, a mountain hunter and a free one, swung over 
 and joined the group. 
 
 "Jest been palaverin' with some Canucks," he said. 
 " Fur's I could git th' hang o' thar parley-vouz thar goin' 
 up ter help open Fort William, at th' mouth o' th' Yaller- 
 stun, fer Fox an' Livingston. They sez Pratte an' Ca- 
 banne had took over Fort Platte, up nigh th' Laramie. 
 How fur ye goin' on this packet, Smith ? " 
 
INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 87 
 
 "Bellevue," answered Smith. "I'm headin' up th* 
 Platte a-ways, if th' danged Pawnees let me git past. 
 Pardner's waitin' near th' mouth with a bullboat. 
 Reckon we kin count on enough water, this time o' year, 
 fer ter float that; 'though I shore ain't bettin' on it," he 
 chuckled. 
 
 Zack laughed. ** Th' Platte shore comes close ter bein' 
 all shadder an' no substance. Dangest stream / ever 
 seen, an' I've seen a-plenty." 
 
 " Don't think a hull lot o' that country, nohow," said 
 a third. " Them Pawnees air th' worst thieves an' mur- 
 derers this side o' th' Comanchees. They kin steal yer 
 shirt without techin' yer coat, danged if they can't. 
 Blast 'em, I know *em ! " 
 
 Zack laughed shortly, "They ain't nowhar with th' 
 Crows when it comes ter stealin'," he averred. 
 
 Smith chuckled again. " Yer right, Zack. He's pizeri 
 set ag'in 'em ever sence they stole his packs an' everythin' 
 that wasn't a-hangin' ter him. 'Twarn't much o' a walk 
 he had, though, only a couple hundred miles." 
 
 "Ye kin bet I'm pizen ag'in 'em sence then," retorted 
 the Pawnee-hater vehemently. " If I tuk scalps I could 
 show ye somethin'. They've paid a lot fer what they 
 stole that time." 
 
 From another group came the mention of a name 
 which took Tom's instant attention. 
 
 "I hears Ol' Jim Bridger's quit tradin' in furs as a 
 reg'lar thing," said the voice. " They say he's gone in fer 
 tinkerin' an' outfittin' up nigh Teton Pass. Got a fust 
 rate post too, they say." 
 
 "Tinkerin' what?" demanded a listener. "What kin 
 he outfit 'way up thar?" 
 
88 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 " Emigrants ! " snorted the first speaker. *' Figgers on 
 sellin' 'em supplies an' sich, an' repairin' fer 'em at his 
 smithy. I shore reckon they'll need him a hull lot more'n 
 he'll need them. That's a long haul fer wagons, tender- 
 feet's 'spacially — Independence ter th' Divide — 'though 
 it ain't what it was when Hunt an' Crooks went out 
 thirty year ago." 
 
 " No, 'tain't," replied a third man. " An' it's a lucky 
 thing fer th' tenderfeet that Nat Wyeth went an' built 
 Fort Hall whar he did, even if 'twas fer th' Hudson Bay. 
 I'm tellin' ye these hyar emigrants would be stayin' ter 
 home from Oregon an' Calif orny if 'twarn't fer what us 
 trappers has did fer th' country. Thar ain't nary a trail 
 that we didn't locate fer 'em." 
 
 The first man nodded. " Not mentionin' th' Injuns 
 afore us, we found thar roads, passes, an' drinkin' water 
 fer 'em; an' now thar flockin' in ter spile our business. 
 One thing, though, thar goin' straight acrost, most on 
 'em. It could be a hull lot worse." 
 
 While Tom's ears caught bits of the conversation 
 round-about his eyes paid attention to the gambling table 
 and on two occasions he half arose from his chair to 
 object profanely to the way Stevens played; but each 
 time he was not quite sure. On the third occasion one of 
 the trappers glanced at him, smiled grimly, and nodded 
 at the hard-pressed gambler. 
 
 " Th' fur trade ain't th' only skin game, young feller/* 
 he softly said. "Ol' man a friend o' yourn?" 
 
 Tom nodded and watched more closely, and a moment 
 later he stiffened again. 
 
 " Why, h — 1 ! " growled the trapper, sympathizing with 
 one of his own calling. *' Go fur him, young feller, an' 
 
I 
 
 i 
 
 INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 89 
 
 chuck him inter th' river ! I'll hold oif his pardner fer 
 ye!" 
 
 An older trapper sauntered over and seated himself 
 at Tom's side. " Been watchin' them fer quite a spell," 
 he said in a low voice. " Ain't that ol' feller St. Louis 
 Joe?" 
 
 Tom shrugged his shoulders, and saw a great light. 
 Who hadn't heard of St. Louis Joe? His new friend's 
 love of gambling, and his success against Stevens and 
 his crowd would be accounted for if the trapper was 
 right. He glanced at the speaker and replied: "Don't 
 know. I never saw him till I crossed th' levee at St. 
 Louis jest afore we sailed." 
 
 " Looks a heap like him, anyhow," muttered the new- 
 comer. " Fair an' squar, he war. I seen him play when 
 I war goin' down to N'Orleans, ten year ago. Never 
 fergit a face, an' I shore remember his, fer he war playin' 
 that time fer 'most all th' money in th' Mississippi Valley, 
 I reckon. Consarn it, I know it's him! Fer ol' times' 
 sake, if he gits inter trouble with that skunk, I'm with 
 him ter th' hilt." He started to leave the table, thought 
 better of it and slid forward to the edge of his chair. 
 "He's bein' cheated blind. I saw that skunk palm a 
 card!" 
 
 Tom nodded, his hand resting on his belt, but he did 
 not take his eyes from the game. He suspected that 
 Uncle Joe was pretty well informed about what was 
 going on and would object when it suited him. 
 
 The first trapper leaned over the table and whispered 
 to his friend. " This young feller is watchin' the cheat, 
 an' I'm watchin' th' pardner. You might keep an eye 
 on that Independence hoss-thief over thar — that feller 
 
90 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 with th' raw meat face, that this youngster gave him. 
 From th' way he's lookin' thar ain't no tellin' how this 
 hyar party is goin' ter bust up." 
 
 The second plainsman nodded and after a moment 
 dropped his pipe on the floor. He shifted in his chair 
 as he reached down for it and when he sat up again he 
 was in a little different position, and not a thing at 
 Sclioolcraft's table escaped his eyes. 
 
 "I'll take th' greaser 'longside him," muttered the 
 third plainsman. " W'ich is a plain duty an' a pleasure. 
 Bet ye a plew I nail him atween his eyes, fust crack, if 
 he gits hostile." 
 
 Suddenly there came a loud smack as Uncle Joe's left 
 hand smashed down on the cards in Stevens' hand, hold- 
 ing them against the table while his right hand flashed 
 under the partly buttoned edge of his long frock coat. It 
 hung there, struggling with something in the inside 
 pocket. Stevens had jerked his own hand loose, relin- 
 quishing the cards, and with the sharp motion a small, 
 compact percussion pistol slid out of his sleeve and into 
 his grasp as his hand stopped. He was continuing the 
 motion, swinging the weapon up and forward when Tom, 
 leaning suddenly forward in his chair, sent his heavy- 
 skinning knife flashing through the air. The first trapper 
 had thrown a pistol down on the gambler's partner, the 
 second stopped Ephriam Schoolcraft's attempted draw 
 against Tom, and the third plainsman was peering 
 eagerly along the barrel of his pistol at a spot between 
 the Mexican's eyes. Had it been a well rehearsed act 
 things could not have happened quicker or smoother. 
 
 Not five other persons in the cabin had any intimation 
 of what was coming until Tom's knife, flying butt first 
 
INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 91 
 
 through the air, knocked the pistol from Stevens' hand. 
 The weapon struck the floor and exploded, the bullet 
 passing through a cabin window. As the knife left his 
 hand the thrower had leaped after it and he grabbed the 
 desperate gambler in a grip against which it was useless 
 to struggle. Uncle Joe, loosening his hold on the pocket 
 pistol tangled in the lining of his coat, leaped around 
 the table and quickly passed his hands over the clothing 
 of the prisoner. 
 
 "What's th' trouble here?" demanded the quick, 
 authoritative voice of the captain as he ran in from the 
 deck. "Who fired that shot, an' why?" 
 
 He soon was made familiar with the whole affair and 
 stepped to the table, picked up the cards and spread them 
 for everyone to see. Asking a few questions of disin- 
 terested eye-witnesses, he looked about the cabin and 
 spoke. 
 
 " I've nothing to say about gambling on this boat as 
 long as gentlemen play," he said sharply. "When the 
 play is crooked, / take a hand. I can't overlook this." 
 He motioned to the group of boat hands crowding about 
 the door and they took hold of Stevens and his partner. 
 " Take these men and get their effects, and then put them 
 ashore in the yawl. I'll have provisions put aboard while 
 you're gone, Stevens, due south not many miles is the 
 St. Louis-Independence wagon road. It is heavily trav- 
 eled this time of the year. You can't miss it. Besides 
 that there are numerous cabins scattered about the bot- 
 toms, and not far up-stream is a settlement. Take 'em 
 away." Glancing over the cabin again and letting his 
 eyes rest for a moment on Ephriam Schoolcraft, he 
 wheeled and started for the door, but paused as he 
 
92 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 , t 
 
 reached it. " If there's any further trouble I'll be on the 
 hurricane deck, for'rd. We're going to run all night if 
 we can. I don't want any more disturbance on this 
 packet." 
 
 As the captain left, Uncle Joe thanked Tom and the 
 trappersi and joined them at their table, providing the 
 refreshment most liked by the plainsmen, and the remi- 
 niscences became so interesting that the little group 
 scarcely noticed Tom arise and leave it. He was too rest- 
 less to stay indoors and soon found a place to his liking 
 on the deck below, near the bow, where he paced to and 
 fro in the darkness, wrestling with a tumult of hopes 
 and fears. Reaching one end of his beat, he wheeled 
 and started back again, and as he passed the cabin door 
 he suddenly stopped and peered at the figure framed in 
 the opening, and tore off his hat, too surprised to speak. 
 
 "Mr. Boyd?" came a soft, inquiring, and anxious 
 voice. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Cooper; but I thought you were fast 
 asleep long ago ! " 
 
 "I was," she replied; "but something that sounded 
 like a shot awakened me, and thinking that it seemed to 
 come from the card tables, I became fearful and dressed 
 as hurriedly as I could in the dark. Is — is Uncle Joe 
 — all right?" 
 
 "In good health, good company, and in the best of 
 spirits," replied Tom, smiling at how the last word might 
 be interpreted. "I left him only a moment ago, swap- 
 ping tales with some trappers." 
 
 "But the shot. Surely it was a shot that awakened 
 me?" 
 
 Tom chuckled. "Sleeve pistol fell to the floor and 
 
INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 93 
 
 went off accidentally," he explained. "Luckily no one 
 was hurt, for the ball passed out of a window and went 
 over the river. Are you warm enough? This wind is 
 cutting." At her assent he took a step forward. " J/U 
 see you to your room if you wish." 
 
 "I'm too wide awake now to sleep for awhile," she 
 replied, joining him. "Didn't the boat stop?" 
 
 "Yes; two passengers went ashore in the yawl," he 
 answered. " These packets are certainly accommodating 
 and deserve patronage. Why, Miss Cooper, you're shiv- 
 ering ! Are you sure you are warm enough ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered. " Something is bothering me. 
 I don't know what it is. I wish we were at Independence 
 though. Day and night this river fascinates me and 
 almost frightens me. It is so swift, so treacherous, so 
 changeful. It reminds me of some great cat, slipping 
 through a jungle; and I can't throw the feeling off. If 
 you don't mind, I'll join you in your sentry-go, you seem 
 to give me the assurance I lack; but perhaps I'll interfere 
 with your thoughts ? " 
 
 "Hardly that," he laughed, thrilling as she took hi,, 
 arm for safety against stumbles in the dark. "You 
 stimulate them, instead. I really was pacing off a fit ot 
 restlessness; but it's gone now. Look here; I wonder if 
 you fully realize the certain hardships and probable 
 dangers of the overland journey you are about to 
 make?" 
 
 "Perfectly, Mr. Boyd," she answered, quietly. 
 " You'll find me a different person on land. I underesti- 
 mate nothing, but hope for the best. From little things 
 I've picked up here and there I really believe that the 
 dangers of the trail will be incidental when compared 
 
94 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 with those at the other end — at Santa Fe. I have reason 
 to believe that father has had a great deal of trouble, 
 along" with other Americans, with Governor Armijo. 
 Why is it that American citizens are insulted with im- 
 punity by Mexican officials ? I understand that an Eng- 
 lishman may safely travel from one end of Mexico to 
 the other, secure from annoyance, unless it be at the 
 hands of Indians over whom the government exercises 
 but little control." 
 
 "It's a universal complaint along the frontier," he 
 replied. "It seems to be the policy of this country to 
 avoid hurting the sensibilities of any vicious officialdom 
 or ignorant populace. We seem to prefer to have our 
 citizens harassed, insulted, and denied justice, rather 
 than assert unequivocally that the flag goes in spirit with 
 every one of us so long as we obey the laws of any 
 country we are in. If it were not for the banding togeth- 
 er of the American traders and merchants in Santa Fe, 
 it would be very hazardous for an American to remain 
 there. Armijo has had a few clashes with our people 
 and is beginning to have a little respect for their deter- 
 mination and ability to defend their rights. Since the 
 sufferings of the Texans have become known, there are 
 any number of Americans in frontier garb who would 
 cheerfully choke him to death. It would be a godsend 
 to the New Mexican people if " 
 
 There came a terrific crash, the boat stopped suddenly 
 and the deck arose under their feet as a huge log smashed 
 up through it. They were torn apart and thrown down, 
 and as Tom scrambled to his feet, calling his com- 
 panion's name, he felt a great relief surge through him 
 as he heard her answer. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE WRECKING OE THE MISSOURI BELLE 
 
 TOM grasped his companion's arm and hurried her 
 toward the place where the yawl was tied as shouts, 
 curses, tearing wood and a panic-stricken crowd of pas- 
 sengers pouring out of the cabins and rooms turned the 
 night into a pandemonium, over which the hysterical 
 blasts of the whistle bellowed its raucous calls for help 
 far and wide across water and land. There came a rush 
 of feet and several groups of passengers dashed toward 
 the yawl, but stopped abruptly and hesitated as the Colt 
 in Tom's hand glinted coldly in the soft light of a cabin 
 window. 
 
 "Women first!" he snarled, savage as an animal at 
 bay. " I'll kill th' first man that comes any closer ! Get 
 those bullboats overside, an' somebody round up th' other 
 women an' bring 'em here ! Keep cool, an' everybody'll 
 be saved — lose yore heads an' we'll all die, some quick- 
 er'n others ! Not another step forward ! " 
 
 " Right ye air, friend," said a voice, and Zack, pistol 
 in hand, dropped from the deck above and alighted at 
 Tom's side like a fighting bobcat. " Put over them bull- 
 boats — an' be shore ye get hold o' th' ropes when ye da 
 Lady!" he shouted, catching sight of an emigrant and 
 his wife. "Come hyar! An' you," he commanded her 
 husband, "stan by us — shoot ter kill if ye pulls trigger. 
 Fine bunch o' cattle!" he sneered, and the rapidly grow- 
 
96 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 ing crowd, finding that the guns facing them did noi 
 waver, turned and stampeded for the bullboats, every 
 man of it bellowing orders and getting in the way of 
 everyone else. There came a splash, a chorus of curses 
 as a bullboat, thrown overboard upside down, slipped 
 away in the darkness. 
 
 "Right side up, ye tarnation fools!" roared a voice, 
 accompanied by a solid smash as a hunter near the boats 
 knocked down a frantic freighter and took charge of the 
 mob. "I'm fixin' fer to kill somebody!" he yelled. 
 " Hang outer that rope or I'll spatter yer brains all over 
 creation! Right side up, damn ye! Hold her! Thar! 
 Now then, put over another — if ye git in that boat till 
 I says so ye won't have no need fer it!" 
 
 Friends coming to his aid helped him hold the milling 
 mob, and their coolness and determination, tried in many 
 ticklish situations, stood them in good stead. 
 
 "Ask th' captain how bad she is!" shouted Tom as 
 he caught sight of Joe Cooper tearing through the crowd 
 like a madman. "I got Patience an' another woman 
 here!" 
 
 " I might 'a' known it," yelled Uncle Joe, fighting back 
 the way he had come. In a moment he returned and 
 shouted until the frantic crowd gave him heed. " Cap'n 
 says she can't sink ! Cap'n says she can't sink ! Listen, 
 damn ye! Cap'n says she can't sink. He's groundin' 
 her on a bar ! Keep 'em out of them boats, boys ! Don't 
 let them fools get in th' boats! Not till th' very last 
 thing! They'll only swamp 'em." 
 
 "Good fer you, St. Louis!" roared a mountaineer, 
 playing with a skinning knife in most suggestive manner. 
 
 " Th' boilers'U blow up ! Th' boilers'll blow up! Look 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 97 
 
 out for th' boilers ! " yelled a tenderfoot, fighting to get 
 to the boats. "They'll blow up! They'll blow " 
 
 Zack took one swift step sideways and brought the 
 butt of his pistol down on the jumping jack's head- 
 " Let 'em blow, sister ! " he shouted. " You won't hear 
 'em ! Any more scared o' th' boilers ? " he yelled, facing 
 the crowd menacingly. "They won't blow up till th' 
 water gits to 'em, an' when it does we'll all be knee-deep 
 in it. Thar on this hyar deck, ye sheep! " 
 
 One man was running around in a circle not five feet 
 across, moaning and blubbering. Tom glanced at him 
 as he came around and stepped quickly forward, his 
 foot streaking out and up. It caught the human pin- 
 wheel on the chest and he turned a beautiful back flip 
 into the crowd. Zack's booming laugh roared out over the 
 water and he slapped Tom resoundingly on the shoulder. 
 
 " More fun right hyar than in a free-fer-all at a winter 
 rendyvoo, pardner. You kick wuss nor a mule. An' 
 whar you goin' ? " he asked a tin-horn gambler who took 
 advantage of his lapse of alertness to dart past him. 
 Zack swung his stiff arm and the gambler bounced back 
 as though he had been struck with a club. " That's 
 plenty o' it hyar if yer lookin' fer it," he shouted, raising 
 his pistol. 
 
 Uncle Joe clawed his way back again, Tom's double- 
 barreled rifle in his hands, and grimly took his place at 
 his friend's side. Suddenly he cocked his head and then 
 heard Tom's voice bellow past his ear. 
 
 "Listen, you fools! Th' fur boat! Th' fur boat!" 
 he yelled at the top of his lungs. His companions and 
 the other little group of resolute men took up the cry, 
 and as the furor of the crowd died down, the answering 
 
98 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 blasts rolled up the river. Suddenly a light, and then an 
 orderly series of them pushed out from behind the last 
 bend down-stream, and showers of sparks from the 
 belching stacks of the oncoming fur company boat danced 
 and whirled high into the night, the splashing tattoo of her 
 churning paddles sounding like music between the reassur- 
 ing blasts of her whistle. The two stokers hanging from 
 the levers of her safety valves kicked their feet in time 
 with her whistle, not knowing which kick would usher 
 them on an upward journey ending at St. Peter's eager 
 gate. Their skins were as black as the rods they swung 
 from, but their souls were as white as their rolling eyes. 
 
 "Thank God!" screamed a woman who was fighting 
 her way through the crowd toward Tom's post, her 
 dothing nearly torn from her; and at the words she 
 sagged to the deck, inert, unresisting. Tom leaped for- 
 ward and hauled her back with him, passed her on to 
 Patience and resumed his grim guard. 
 
 A great shout, still tinged with horror and edged with 
 fear, arose from the decks of the Belle and thundered 
 across the river, the answering roar chopped up by the 
 insistent whistle. Several red, stringy, rapier-like flashes 
 pierced the night and the heavy reports barked across 
 the hurrying water, to be juggled by a great cliff on the 
 north bank. 
 
 Captain Newell had been busy. Learning that cool 
 minds were dominating the panicky crowd, and that the 
 bullboats were being properly launched and were ready 
 for use if the worst came, he gave his undivided attention 
 to the saving of the Belle. Her paddle still thrashed, 
 but at a speed just great enough to overcome the current 
 and to hold the snag in the wound it had made. Expe- 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 99 
 
 rience told him that once she drew back from that sHmy 
 assassin blade and fully opened the rent in her hull her 
 sinking would follow swiftly. Already men had sounded 
 the river on both sides and reported a steep slant to 
 the bottom, twenty feet of water on the port side and 
 fifteen on. the starboard. One of the spare yawls, 
 manned by two officers and a deck hand, shot away from 
 the boat and made hurried soundings to starboard, the 
 called depths bringing a look of hope to the captain's 
 face. Forty yards to the right lay a nearly flat bar ; but 
 could he make that forty yards? There remained no 
 choice but to try, for while the Missouri Belle, if she 
 sank in her present position, would not be entirely sub- 
 merged, she would be even less so every foot she made 
 toward the shallows. 
 
 Part of the crew already had weighted one edge of a 
 buffalo hide and stood in the bow, directly over the snag, 
 which luckily had pierced the hull more above than below 
 the water line. The captain signalled and the great 
 paddle wheel turned swiftly full speed astern. The 
 grating, splitting sound of the snag leaving the hull was 
 followed by a shouted order and the hide was lowered 
 overside and instantly sucked against the rent; and the 
 paddle wheel, quickly reversing, pushed the boat ahead 
 at an angle to the current until, low in the water, she 
 grounded solidly on the edge of the flat bar. Anchors 
 were set and cables made taut while the Belle settled 
 firmly on the sandy bottom and rested almost on an even 
 keel. There she would stay if the river continued to 
 fall, until the rent was fully exposed and repaired; and 
 there she would stay, repaired, until another rise floated 
 her. The captain signalled for the paddles to stop and 
 
loo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 then drew a heavy arm across his forehead, sighed, and 
 turned to face the fur company packet. 
 
 The passengers were becoming calm by stages, but the 
 cahii was largely the reaction of hysteria for a few mo- 
 ments until common sense walled up the breach. Every 
 eye now watched the oncoming steamboat, which had 
 sailed doggedly ahead for the past two nights and days 
 while the Belle had loitered against the banks. Even the 
 most timid were now calmed by the sight of her lighted 
 cabins as she ploughed toward her stricken sister. Fear- 
 ful of the snag, she came to a stop when nearly abreast 
 of the Belle and the two captains held a short and shouted 
 conversation. Her yawl soon returned and reported 
 the water safe, but shoaling rapidly; and at this infor- 
 mation she turned slightly oblique to the current and, 
 sounding every few feet, crept up to within two gang- 
 planks' reach of the Belle and anchored bow and stern. 
 Her own great landing stage swung out over the cheated 
 waters and hung poised while that of the Belle circled 
 out to meet it, waveringly, as though it had lost a valu- 
 able sense. They soon touched, were made to coincide and 
 then lashed securely together. At once, women first, the 
 passengers of the Belle began to cross the arched span a 
 few at a time, and sighed with relief as they reached the 
 deck of the uninjured vessel. On the main deck of the 
 Belle the crew already was piling up such freight as could 
 be taken from the hold and the sound of hammering at 
 her bow told of temporary repairs being made. 
 
 Among the last to leave the Belle were Uncle Joe and 
 Tom and as they started toward the gangplank. Captain 
 Newell hurriedly passed them, stopped, retraced his steps, 
 and gripped their hands tightly as he wished them a safe 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE loi 
 
 arrival at Independence. Then he plunged out of sight 
 toward the engine room. 
 
 The transfer completed, the fur company boat cast 
 free, raised her anchors, and sidled cautiously back into 
 the channel. Blowing a hoarse salute, she straightened 
 out into the current and surged ahead, apparently in 
 no way daunted by the fate of her sister. Captain 
 Graves had commanded a heavily loaded boat when he 
 left St. Louis and the addition of over a hundred passen- 
 gers and their personal belongings, for whom some sort 
 of provision must be made in sleeping arrangements and 
 food, urged him to get to Independence Landing as 
 quickly as he could. Turning from his supervision of 
 the housing of the gangplank, he bumped into Uncle 
 Joe, was about to apologize, and then peered into the 
 face of his new passenger. The few lights which had 
 been placed on deck to help in the transfer of the passen- 
 gers, enabled him to recognize the next to the last man 
 across the plank and his greeting was sharp and friendly. 
 
 " Joe Cooper, or I'm blind ! " he exclaimed. " Alone, 
 Joe?" 
 
 "Got my niece with me, and my friend, Tom Boyd, 
 here." 
 
 "Glad to meet you, Mr. Boyd — seems to me I've 
 heard something about a Tom Boyd fouling the official 
 craft of the Government of New Mexico," said the 
 captain, shaking hands with the young plainsman. " We'll 
 do our best for you-all the rest of the night, and we'll 
 put Miss Cooper in my cabin. We ought to reach Inde- 
 pendence early in the morning. I suppose that's your 
 destination? Take you on to Westport just as easily." 
 
 " Independence is where I started for," said Uncle Joe. 
 
102 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 " Then we'll put you ashore there, no matter what the 
 condition of the landing is. It's easier to land passen- 
 gers than cargo. But let me tell you that if you are 
 aiming to go in business there, that Westport is the com- 
 ing town since the river ruined the lower landing. Let's 
 see if the cook's got any hot coffee ready, and a bite to 
 eat: he's had time enough, anyhow. Come on. First 
 we'll find Miss Cooper and the other women. I had them 
 all taken to one place. Come on." 
 
 Shortly after dawn Tom awakened, rose on one elbovtr 
 on the blanket he had thrown on the deck and looked 
 around. Uncle Joe snored softly and rhythmically on 
 his hard bed, having refused to rob any man of his berth. 
 He had accepted one concession, however, by throwing 
 his blanket on the floor of the texas, where he not only 
 would be close to his niece, but removed from the other 
 men of the Belle, many of whom were not at all reassur- 
 ing in the matter of personal cleanliness. Arising, Tom 
 went to a window and looked out, seeing a clear sky and 
 green, rolling hills and patches of timber bathed in the 
 slanting sunlight. A close scrutiny of the bank apprised 
 him that they were not far from Independence Landing and 
 he stepped to the rail to look up the river. Far upstream 
 on a sharp bend on the south bank were the remains of 
 Old Fort Clark, as it was often called. About twenty 
 miles farther on the same side of the river was his des- 
 tination. He turned to call Uncle Joe and met the 
 captain at the door of the texas; and he thought he 
 caught a glimpse of a head bobbing back behind the 
 corner of the cabin. As he hesitated as to whether to 
 go and verify his eyes, the captain accosted him, and he 
 stood where he was. 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 105 
 
 " Fine day, Mr. Boyd," said the officer. " Sleep well 
 on the soft side of the deck? " 
 
 Tom laughed. "I can sleep well any place, captain. 
 If I could have scooped out a hollow for my hips I 
 wouldn't feel quite so stiff." 
 
 "Let me know as soon as Miss Cooper appears and 
 ril have some breakfast sent up to hen If you'd like 
 a bite now, come with me." 
 
 " Thank you ; you are very considerate. I'll call Uncle 
 Joe and bring him with me." 
 
 " You will, hey ? " said a voice from the texas. " Uncle 
 Joe is ready right now, barring the aches of his old bones ; 
 and I've just been interrupted by Patience. She says 
 she can chew chunks out of the cups, she's so hungry. 
 What's that? You didn't? All right; all right; I'm 
 backing up again! Have it your own way; you will,, 
 anyhow, in the end. " 
 
 " You stay right where you are. Miss Cooper," called 
 the captain. " I'll send up breakfast enough for six, and 
 if you keep an eye on this pair perhaps you can get a 
 bit of it. And let me tell you that it's lucky that you're 
 real hungry, for the fare on this boat is even worse than 
 it was on the Belle. I'll go right down and look to it." 
 
 Breakfast over, the three went out to explore the boat, 
 Patience taking interest in its human cargo, especially 
 its original passengers, and she had a good chance to 
 observe them during the absence of the rescued passen- 
 gers of the Belle, to whom had been given the courtesy 
 of the first use of the dining-room. 
 
 Almost all of the original list on this boat were con- 
 nected in some way with the fur trade, the exceptions 
 being a few travelers bound for the upper Missouri, and 
 
I04 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 two noncommissioned officers going out to Fort Leaven- 
 worth, who had missed the Belle at St. Louis, missed her 
 again at St. Charles, and had been taken aboard by Cap- 
 tain Graves, who would have to stop at the Fort for 
 inspection. 
 
 The others covered all the human phases of the fur 
 business and included one bourgeois, or factor; two par- 
 tisans, or heads of expeditions; several clerks, numerous 
 hunters and trappers, both free and under contract to the 
 company; half a dozen "pork-eaters," who were green 
 hands engaged for long periods of service by the com- 
 pany and bound to it almost as tightly and securely as 
 though they were slaves. Some of them found this to 
 be true, when they tried to desert, later on. They were 
 called "pork-eaters" because the term now meant about 
 the same as the word " tenderfeet," and its use came from 
 the habit of the company to import green hands from 
 Canada under contracts which not only made them slaves 
 for five years, but almost always left them in the com- 
 pany's debt at the expiration of their term of service. 
 On the way from Canada they had been fed on a simple 
 and monotonous diet, its chief article being pork; and 
 gradually the expression came to be used among the more 
 experienced voyageurs to express the abstract idea of 
 greenness. There were camp-keepers, voyageurs, a crew 
 of keelboatmen going up to the " navy yard " above Fort 
 Union and two skilled boat-builders bound for the same 
 place; artisans, and several Indians returning either to 
 one of the posts or to their own country. They made a 
 picturesque assemblage, and their language, being Indian, 
 English, and French, or rather, combinations of all three, 
 was not less so than their appearance. Over them all the 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 105 
 
 bully of the boat, who had reached his semi-official 
 position through elimination by consent and by combat, 
 exercised a more or less orderly supervision as to their 
 bickerings and general behavior, and relieved the boat's 
 officers of much responsibility. 
 
 The boat stopped a few minutes at Liberty Landing 
 and then went on, rounding the nearly circular bend, and 
 as the last turn was made and the steamboat headed 
 westward again there was a pause in the flurry which had 
 been going on among the rescued passengers ever since 
 Liberty Landing had been left. Independence Landing 
 was now close at hand and the eager crowd marked time 
 until the bank should be reached. 
 
 Soon the boat headed in toward what was left of the 
 once fine landing, its slowly growing ruin being responsible 
 for the rising importance of the little hamlet of Westport 
 not far above, and for the later and pretentious Kansas 
 City which was to arise on the bluff behind the little 
 frontier village. Independence was losing its importance 
 as a starting point for the overland traffic in the same 
 way that she had gained it. First it had been Franklin, 
 then Fort Osage, then Blue Mills, and then Independence ; 
 but now, despite its commanding position on one of the 
 highest bluffs along the river and its prestige from being 
 the county seat, the latter was slowly settling in the back- 
 ground and giving way to Westport; but it was not to 
 give up at once, nor entirely, for the newer terminals 
 had to share their prominence with it, and until the end 
 of the overland traffic Independence played its part. 
 
 The landing was a busy place. Piles of cordwood and 
 freight, the latter in boxes, barrels, and crates, flanked the 
 landing on three sides; several kinds of new wagons in 
 
io6 "BRmG ME HIS EARS" 
 
 various stages of assembling were scenes of great activ- 
 ity. Most of these were from Pittsburg and had come 
 all the way by water. A few were of the size first used 
 on the great trail, with a capacity of about a ton and a 
 half; but most were much larger and could carry nearly 
 twice as much as the others. Great bales of Osnaburg 
 sheets, or wagon covers, were in a pile by themselves, 
 glistening white in their newness. It appeared that the 
 cargo of the John Auld had not yet been transported up 
 the bluff to the village on the summit. 
 
 The landing became very much alive as the fur com- 
 pany's boat swung in toward it, the workers who hourly 
 expected the Missouri Belle crowding to the water's edge 
 to welcome the rounding boat, whose whistle early had 
 apprised them that she was stopping. Free negroes 
 romped and sang, awaiting their hurried tasks under 
 exacting masters, the bosses of the gangs; but this time 
 there was to be no work for them. Vehicles of all 
 kinds, drawn by oxen, mules, and horses, made a solid 
 phalanx around the freight piles, among them the wagons 
 of Aull and Company, general outfitters for all kinds of 
 overland journeys. The narrow, winding road from the 
 water front up to and onto the great bluff well back from 
 the river was sticky with mud and lined with struggling 
 teams pulling heavy loads. 
 
 When the fur company boat drew near enough for 
 those on shore to see its unusual human cargo, both as 
 to numbers and kinds, conjecture ran high. This hardy 
 traveler of the whole navigable river was no common 
 packet, stopping almost any place to pick up any person 
 who waved a hat, but a supercilious thoroughbred which 
 forged doggedly into the vast wilderness of the upper 
 
THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 107 
 
 river. Even her curving swing in toward the bank was 
 made with a swagger and hinted at contempt for any- 
 landing under a thousand miles from her starting point. 
 
 Shouts rang across the water and were followed by 
 great excitement on the bank. Because of the poor con- 
 dition of the landing she worked her way inshore with 
 unusual care and when the great gangplank finally 
 bridged the gap her captain nodded with relief. In a few 
 moments, her extra passengers ashore, she backed out 
 into the hurrying stream and with a final blast of her 
 whistle, pushed on up the river. 
 
 Friends met friends, strangers advised strangers, and 
 the accident to the Belle was discussed with great gusto. 
 Impatiently pushing out of the vociferous crowd, Joe 
 Cooper and his two companions swiftly found a Dear- 
 born carriage which awaited them and, leaving their 
 baggage to follow in the wagon of a friend, started along 
 the deeply rutted, prairie road for the town; Schoolcraft, 
 his partner, and his Mexican friend sloping along behind 
 them on saddle horses through the lane of mud. The 
 trip across the bottoms and up the great bluff was weari- 
 some and tiring. They no sooner lurched out of one rut 
 than they dropped into another, with the mud and water 
 often to the axles, and they continually were forced to 
 climb out of the depressed road and risk upsettings on the 
 steep, muddy banks to pass great wagons hopelessly 
 mired, notwithstanding their teams of from six to a 
 dozen mules or oxen. Mud-covered drivers shouted and 
 swore from their narrow seats, or waded about their 
 wagons up to the middle in the cold ooze. If there was 
 anything worse than a prairie road in the spring, these 
 wagoners had yet to learn of it. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE NEW SIX-GUN 
 
 INDEPENDENCE was alive all over, humming with 
 business, its muddy streets filled with all kinds of 
 vehicles drawn by various kinds and numbers of animals. 
 Here a three-yoke ox team pulled stolidly, there a four- 
 mule team balked on a turn, and around them skittish or 
 dispirited horses carried riders or drew high-seated 
 carriages. The motley crowd on foot picked its way as 
 best it could. Indians in savage garb passed Indians in 
 civilization's clothes, or mixtures of both; gamblers 
 rubbed elbows with emigrants and made overtures to 
 buckskin-covered trappers and hunters just in from the 
 prairies and mountains, many of whom were going up 
 to Westport, their main rendezvous. Traders came into 
 and went from Aull and Company's big store, wherein 
 was everything the frontier needed. Behind it were cor- 
 rals filled with draft animals and sheds full of carts and, 
 wagons. 
 
 Boisterous traders and trappers, in all stages of drunk- 
 enness, who thought nothing of spending their season's 
 profits in a single week if the mood struck them, were 
 still coming in from the western foothills, valleys, and 
 mountains, their loud conversations replete with rough 
 phrases and such names as the South Park, Bent's Fort, 
 The Pueblo, Fort Laramie, Bayou Salade, Brown's Hole, 
 and others. Many of them so much resembled Indians 
 io8 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 109 
 
 as to leave a careless observer in doubt. Some were 
 driving mules almost buried under their two packs, each 
 pack weighing about one hundred pounds and containing 
 eighty-odd beaver skins, sixty-odd otter pelts or the 
 equivalent number in other skins. Usually they arrived 
 in small parties, but here and there was a solitary trapper. 
 The skins would be sold to the outfitting merchants and 
 would establish a credit on which the trapper could draw 
 until time to outfit and go off on the fall hunt. Had he 
 sold them to some far, outlying post he would have 
 received considerably less for them and have paid from 
 two hundred to six hundred per cent more for the articles 
 he bought. As long as there was nothing for him to do 
 in his line until fall set in, he might just as well spend 
 some of the time on the long march to the frontier, risk- 
 ing the loss of his goods, animals, and perhaps his life 
 in order to get better prices and enjoy a change of 
 scene. 
 
 The county seat looked good to him after his long 
 stay in the solitudes. Pack and wagon trains were com- 
 ing and going, some of the wagons drawn by as many 
 as a dozen or fifteen yokes of oxen. All was noise, 
 confusion, life at high pressure, and made a fit surround- 
 ing for his coming carousal ; and here was all the liquor 
 he could hope to drink, of better quality and at better 
 prices, guarantees of which, in the persons of numerous 
 passers-by, he saw on many sides. 
 
 Rumors of all kinds were afloat, most of them concern- 
 ing hostile Indians lying in wait at certain known danger 
 spots along the trails, and of the hostile acts of the 
 Mormons; but the Alormons were behind and the trail 
 was ahead, and the rumors of its dangers easily took 
 
no "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 precedence. It was reported that the first caravan, al- 
 ready on the trail and pressing hard on the heels of 
 spring, was being escorted by a force of two hundred 
 United States dragoons, the third time in the history of 
 the Santa Fe trade that a United States military escort 
 had been provided. Dangers were magnified, dangers 
 were scorned, dangers were courted, depending upon the 
 nature of the men relating them. There were many noisy 
 iire-eaters who took their innings now, in the security 
 of the town, who would become as wordless, later on, 
 as some of the tight-lipped and taciturn frontiersmen 
 were now. Greenhorns from the far-distant East were 
 proving their greenness by buying all kinds of useless 
 articles, which later they would throw away one by one, 
 and were armed in a manner befitting buccaneers of the 
 Spanish Main. To them, easiest of all, were old and 
 heavy oxen sold, animals certain to grow footsore and 
 useless by the time they had covered a few hundred 
 miles. They bought anything and everything that any 
 wag suggested, and there were plenty of wags on hand. 
 The less they knew the more they talked ; and experienced 
 caravan travelers shook their heads at sight of them, 
 recognizing in them the most prolific and hardest work- 
 ing trouble-makers in the whole, long wagon train. Here 
 and there an invalid was seen, hoping that the long trip 
 in the open would restore health, and in many cases the 
 hopes became realizations. 
 
 Joseph Cooper installed his niece in the best hotel the 
 town afforded and went off to see about his wagons and 
 goods, while Tom Boyd hurried to a trapper's retreat 
 to find his partner and his friends. The retreat was 
 crowded with frontiersmen and traders, among whom he 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN i^ 
 
 recognized many acquaintances. He no sooner had en- 
 tered the place than he was soundly slapped on the 
 shoulder and turned to exchange grins with his best 
 friend, Hank Marshall, who forthwith led him to a cor- 
 ner where a small group was seated around a table, and 
 where he found Jim Ogden and Zeb Houghton, two 
 trapper friends of his who were going out to Bent's 
 trading post on the Arkansas ; Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo 
 Webb, two veteran traders, and several others who would 
 be identified with the next caravan to leave. 
 
 "Thar's one of them danged contraptions, now!" 
 exclaimed Birdsall, pointing to the holster swinging from 
 Tom's broad belt. " I don't think much o' these hyar new- 
 fangled weapons we're seein' more an' more every year. 
 An' cussed if he ain't got a double-bar'l rifle, too ! Dang 
 it, Tom, don't put all yer aigs in one basket; ain't ye 
 keepin' no weapons ye kin be shore on ? " 
 
 "Thar both good, Enoch," replied Tom, smiling 
 broadly. 
 
 " Shore they air," grunted Birdsall's partner. " Enoch 
 don't reckon nothin's no good less'n it war foaled in th' 
 Revolutionary War, an' has got whiskers like a Mormon 
 bishop. Fust he war dead sot ag'in steamboats; said 
 they war flyin' in th' face o' Providence an' wouldn't 
 work, nohow. Then he said it war plumb foolish ter try 
 ter take waggins inter Santer Fe. Next he war dead sot 
 ag'in mules fer anythin' but packin'. Now he's cold ter 
 caps an' says flints war made 'special by th' Lord fer ter 
 strike fire with — hut, he rides on th' steamboats when he 
 gits th' chanct; he's taken waggins clean ter Chihuahua, 
 drivin' mules ter 'em; an' he's sorter hankerin' fer ter 
 use caps, though he won't admit it open. Let him alone 
 
112 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 an' watch him try ter borrer yer new pistol when th' 
 Injuns try ter stampede th' animals. He's a danged old 
 fool in his talk, but you jest keep an eye on him. Thar, 
 I've said my say." 
 
 " An' a danged long say it war ! " snorted Enoch, bel- 
 ligerently. "It stands ter reason that thar pistol can't 
 shoot 'em out o' one bar'l plumb down the dead center of 
 another every time! An' suppose ye want ter use a 
 double charge o' powder, whar ye goin' ter put it in 
 them danged little holes ? Suppose yer caps hang fire — ■ 
 what then, I want ter know ? " 
 
 "S'posin' th' wind blows th' primin' out o' yer pan?" 
 queried Zeb. " S'posin' ye lose your flint? S'posin' yer 
 powder ain't no good? S'posin' ye ram down th' ball 
 fust, like ye did that time them Crows tried ter lift 
 our cache. Fine mess ye nigh made o' that! Onct ye 
 start thar ain't no end o' s'posin', nohow. Caps is all 
 right, / use 'em ! " 
 
 "He uses 'em!" chuckled Enoch. "Ain't that a sen- 
 sible answer? Caps is all right, if /^^ uses 'em ! Danged 
 if he don't make me laugh : but he's a good ol' beaver, 
 at that, Zeb is. As fur rammin' down th' ball fust, that 
 time; he never told ye about how he swallered a hull 
 mouthful o' balls when Singin' Fox sent a arrer through 
 his cap, did he?" 
 
 Zeb looked a little self-conscious. "Beaver's shore 
 gittin' scarce," he said. 
 
 "Thar's a passel o* Oregoners rendyvouin' out ter 
 Round Grove," said Hank. "If we're goin' with 'em 
 we better jine 'em purty quick." 
 
 Tom shook his head. "I'm aimin fer th' Arkansas 
 this trip. Goin' ter try it onct more." 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN iig 
 
 Hank's jaw dropped. "Thar!" he snorted. "Kin ye 
 beat that?" 
 
 "Glad ter hear it," said Jim Ogden. "We'll be with 
 ye fur's th' Crossin'; but ain't ye gamblin', Tom?" 
 
 " Armijo shore will run up th' flags an' order out his- 
 barefoot army," said Hank, grimly, "if he larns o' it. 
 An' he'll mebby need th' army, too." 
 
 " He'll larn o' it," declared Birdsall. " Thar's a passel 
 o* greasers goin' over th' trail with us — an' shore as 
 shootin' some o' 'em will go ahead with th' news arter 
 we reach th' Cimarron. Don't be a danged fool, Tom;, 
 you better go 'long th' Platte with th' emigrants." 
 
 " Can't do it," replied Tom. "I've give my word an* 
 I'm goin' through ter Santa Fe. Armijo'll larn o' it, 
 all right. I've seen signs o' that already. Some greaser 
 fanned a knife at me on th' boat; but I couldn't larn 
 nothin' more about it." 
 
 "Dang my hide if I ain't got a good notion ter let 
 ye go alone ! " snorted Hank, whereat a roar of laughter 
 arose. It seemed that he was very well known. 
 
 " I'll see how things bust," said Ogden. " I war aimin*^ 
 fer Bent's, but thar ain't no use o' gittin' thar much 
 afore fall." He thought a moment, and then slammed 
 his hand on the table. " I'm goin' with ye, Tom ! " 
 
 "Talkin' like a blind fool!" growled Zeb Houghton, 
 his inseparable companion. "I'm startin' fer th' fort, 
 an' I'm goin' thar! If you ain't got no sense, / has!'* 
 
 Hank laughed and winked at the others. "I'll go 
 with ye, Zeb. Me an' you'll go thar together an' let these 
 two fools git stood up ag'in a wall. Sarve 'em right if he 
 cuts 'em up alive. We'll ask him ter send us thar earSj^ 
 fer ter remember 'em by." 
 
114 "BRING ME HIS EARS** 
 
 Zeb's remarks about the Governor of New Mexico 
 caused every head in the room to turn his way, and called 
 forth a running fire of sympathetic endorsements. He 
 banged the table with his fists. "Hank Marshall, ye 
 got more brains nor I has, but I got ter go 'long an' keep 
 that pore critter out o' trouble. HI don't he'll lose hoss 
 nn' beaver!" 
 
 A stranger sauntered over, grinned at them and slid 
 a revolving Colt pistol on the table. "Thar, boys," he 
 said. " Thar's what ye need if yer goin' ter Santer Fe. 
 I'm headin' fer home, back east. What'll ye give me fer 
 it, tradin' in yer old pistol? Had a run o' cussed bad 
 luck last night, an' I need boat fare. Who wants it?" 
 
 Enoch Birdsall and Hank Marshall both reached for 
 it, but Hank was the quicker. He looked it over care- 
 fully and then passed it to his partner. " What ye think 
 o' her, Tom?" he asked. 
 
 After a moment's scrutiny Tom nodded and gave it 
 back. " Looks brand new. Hank. Good pistol. I tried 
 mine out on th' boat comin' up. They shoot hard an' 
 straight." 
 
 Hank looked up at the stranger and shook his head 
 deprecatingly, starting the preliminary to a long, hard- 
 driven barter; but he hadn't reckoned on Birdsall, the 
 skeptic. 
 
 " Ten dollars an' this hyar pistol," said Enoch quickly. 
 
 "Wall!" exclaimed Hank, staring at him. "Dang 
 ye ! Eleven dollars an' this pistol ! " 
 
 " Twelve," placidly said Enoch. 
 
 " Twelve an' a half ! " snapped Hank. 
 
 "An' three quarters." 
 
 " Thirteen ! " growled Hank, trying to hide his misery. 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 115 
 
 Enoch raised again and, a quarter at a time, they ran 
 the price up to sixteen dollars, Enoch bidding with Yan- 
 kee caution and reluctance. Hank with a stubborn de- 
 termination not to let his friend get ahead of him. One 
 was a trader, shrewd and thrifty; the other, a trapper, 
 which made it a game between a canny barterer on one 
 side and a reckless spender on the other. At twenty- 
 three dollars Birdsall quit, spat angrily at a box, and 
 scowled at his excited companion, who was counting the 
 money onto the table. Hank glared at Enoch, jammed 
 the Colt in his belt and bit savagely into a plug of to- 
 bacco, while the stranger, hiding his smile, bowed 
 ironically and left them; and in a moment he was back 
 again with another Colt. 
 
 " I knowed it ! " mourned Hank. " Dang ye, Enoch ! '*^ 
 
 " Boys," said the stranger, sadly, " my friend is in th*' 
 same fix that I am. He is willin' ter part with his Colt 
 for th' same money an' another old fashioned pistol. His 
 mother's dyin' in St. Louie an' he's got ter git back ter 
 her." 
 
 " Too danged bad it ain't him, an' you," snorted Hank. 
 
 Jim Ogden held out his hand, took the weapon and 
 studied it. Quietly handing over his own pistol and the 
 money, he held out his other hand, empty. " Whar's th' 
 mold; an' some caps?" 
 
 "Wall," drawled the stranger, rubbing his chin. 
 "They don't go with th' weapons — they're separate. 
 Cost ye three dollars fer th' mold; an' th' caps air twa 
 dollars a box o' two hundred." 
 
 "Then hand her back ag'in an' take th' Colt," said 
 Ogden, slowly arising. "Think I'm goin' ter whittle, 
 or chew bullets fer it? Neither one of them guns haa 
 
ii6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ■even been used. Thar bran' new, an' with 'em goes th* 
 mold. Jest because I've spent a lot o' my days up on 
 Green River ain't sayin' I'm green. They named it 
 that because I left my greenness than" 
 
 " Th' caps air extry," said the vendor of Colt pistols. 
 
 "Ain't said nothin' about no caps, yit," retorted 
 Ogden. " I'm talkin' molds. Gimme one, an' give Hank 
 one; or ye'll both shore as hell miss his mother's 
 funeral." 
 
 The stranger complied, sold some caps and left the sa- 
 loon in good humor ; but he had not been gone two min- 
 utes before Enoch hastily arose and pleaded that he had 
 to meet a man; and when they saw him again he had a 
 newfangled contraption in a holster at his belt. 
 
 Hank carelessly opened his mold and glanced at it. 
 ** Pinted ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Tom explained swiftly and reassured his friends, and 
 then suggested that they go down to a smithy owned by 
 a mutual friend, and run some bullets. **We better do 
 it while we're thinkin' about it, an' have th' time," 
 he added. 
 
 "Got lots o' time," said Ogden. "Be three weeks 
 afore th' second caravan starts. Thar's two goin' out 
 this year. If 'twarn't fer th' early warm weather on th' 
 prairies th' fust wouldn't 'a' left yet. Th' grass is comin' 
 -up fast." 
 
 "Thar's some waggins o' th' second game out ter 
 Council Grove already," said Alonzo Webb "They 
 wanted me an' Enoch ter go 'long with 'em, but we 
 couldn't see th' sense o' leavin' town so fur ahead o' 
 time, an' totin' that much more grub. 'Sides, th' roads'll 
 be better, mebby, later on." 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 117 
 
 The smith welcomed them and they used his fire during 
 the lulls in his business. 
 
 " Hear Zachary Woodson's goin' out with eight wag- 
 gins this year," he told them. " Missed th' fust caravan. 
 Says he'll be tetotally cussed if he's goin' ter be captain 
 ag'in this year." 
 
 " That's what he says every year," grunted Alonzo. 
 
 "He'll be captain if we has th' say-so," replied Hank. 
 "Only thing, he's a mite too easy with th' fools; but 
 thar's goin' ter be less squabblin' about obeyin' orders 
 this trip than ever afore. We'll see ter that." 
 
 While they discussed matters pertaining to the cara- 
 van, and ran bullets, listening to the gossip of the smith'3 
 customers, they saw Uncle Joe and his two wagoners 
 driving his mules toward the shop to have them re-shod, 
 They shook hands all around and soon Uncle Joe, grin- 
 ning from ear to ear, told them that he was going out 
 with the caravan. He was as tickled as a boy with a new 
 knife. 
 
 "Just as I feared," he said in explanation. "I 
 couldn't find any trader that was takin' any of his women 
 folks along; so there was only one way out of it. I got 
 to go. An' I don't mind tellin' you boys that it suits me 
 clean down to th' ground. Anyhow, all I wanted was 
 an excuse. I got a light wagon for Patience an' rae an' 
 our personal belongings, an' I'm goin' to drive it m.ysell 
 Bein' th' only woman in th' caravan, fur as I know, it'll 
 mebby be a little mite hard on her. Reckon she'll git 
 
 ti'^nesome, 'specially since she's so danged purty." 
 When the laughter died down Hank Marshall, shifting 
 5 cud to the other cheek, looked from Uncle Joe to Tom 
 .... 
 
Ii8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 "Wall," he drawled, "I war puzzled a little at fust, 
 but now I reckon I'm gittin' th' hang o' this hyar thing. 
 Tom war shore hell-bent fer ter go out ter Oregon this 
 year." He paused, scratched his head, and grinned. 
 ** Reckon I kin drive them mules all by myself. 'Twon't 
 be as though it war th' fust time I've done it." 
 
 After a little good-natured banter Tom and Hank 
 left the smithy to look after their affairs, for there was 
 quite a lot to be done. The next few days would be 
 busy ones for them both, but especially so for Tom, who 
 was expected to share his company between Patience, 
 Hank, and Uncle Joe. 
 
 As they swung up the street Hank edged to cross it, 
 pointing to Schoolcraft's corral. ** Might as well be 
 gittin' th' mules afore thar all run over an' th' best took. 
 If he kin skin me in a mule deal I'm willin' ter abide 
 by it." 
 
 " Not there," objected Tom. " I've had some trouble 
 with him. I'll play pack animal myself before I'll buy 
 a single critter from him." 
 
 Hank shook with silent laughter. "Thafs whar he 
 got it, huh ? " he exulted. " Cussed if he warn't trimmed 
 proper. I might 'a' knowed it war you as done it by 
 th' way it looked." He shook again and then became 
 alert. "Thar he is now; an' his friends air with him. 
 Keep yer primin' dry, boy." 
 
 " I reckoned I could shake a laig," said a voice behind 
 them, and they looked over their shoulders to see Jim 
 Ogden at their heels, and close behind him came his 
 partner; "but you two kiyotes plumb made me hoof it. 
 What's yer hurry, anyhow?" 
 
 The little group in front of the corral gate shifted in 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 119 
 
 indecision and looked inquiringly at the horse-dealer. 
 There was a difference between stirring up trouble be- 
 tween themselves and Tom Boyd for the purpose of man- 
 handling him, and stirring it up between themselves and 
 the four trappers. 
 
 Schoolcraft said something out of the corner of his 
 mouth and the group melted away into the little shack 
 at the corral gate. He remained where he was, scowling 
 frankly at his enemy. 
 
 " Looks like they war a-fixin' ter try it on us," growled 
 Hank, returning the scowl with interest. "Let's go 
 over an' say how-de-do ter 'em. This here town's been 
 too peaceable, anyhow." 
 
 "What's th' trouble?" asked Ogden, curiously, his 
 partner pressing against him to hear the answer. 
 
 " Ain't none," answered Tom. " Thar might 'a' been, 
 but it's blowed over." 
 
 "Wall," drawled Ogden. "Ye never kin tell about 
 these hyar frontier winds. Yer th' partisan o' this hyar 
 expedition, Tom. We'll foller yer lead. It's all one ter 
 us whar ye go; we're with ye." 
 
 Schoolcraft, knowing that trouble with these plains- 
 men would almost certainly end in serious bloodshed, 
 shrugged his shoulders and entered the shack; and after 
 him, from behind the corral wall darted the slender 
 Mexican. 
 
 "Thar! " exclaimed Tom, pointing. " See that greaser? 
 Keep yer eyes skinned fer him. He's bad medicine." 
 
 " Looks like he war fixin' fer ambushin' us, hidin' 
 behind that wall," growled Hank. 
 
 " He's got a fine head o' hair ter peel," snorted Zeb 
 Houghton, whose reputation in regard to scalp lifting 
 
I20 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 , _^ 
 
 was anything but to his credit. The fingers of his left 
 hand closed involuntarily with a curling motion and 
 the wrist turned suggestively ; and the Mexican, well back 
 from the dirty window of the shack, felt a rising of his 
 stomach and was poor company for the rest of the day. 
 
 The four swung on again, Ogden and his partner 
 soon leaving the party to go to their quarters, while 
 Tom and Hank went on along the street and stopped at 
 another horse-dealer's, where they bought two riding 
 horses and eight broken-in mules, the latter covered with 
 scars. The horses were broken to saddle and would 
 carry them over the trail; two of the mules were to carry 
 their necessaries and the other six their small stock of 
 merchandise, which they now set out to obtain. In pro- 
 curing the latter they were very fortunate, for they found 
 a greenhorn who had paid too much attention to rumors 
 and had decided at the last moment that trail life 
 and trading in the far west did not impress him very 
 favorably; and he sold his stock to them almost at their 
 own terms, glad to get out of his venture so easily. They 
 took what they wanted of it and then sold the remainder 
 at a price which nearly paid for their own goods. Leav- 
 ing their purchases at Uncle Joe's wagons under the 
 care of his teamsters, they went to his hotel to spend 
 the night. 
 
 After supper Hank, who had shown a restlessness 
 very foreign to him, said that he was going out to take 
 a walk and would return soon. When Tom offered to 
 go with him he shook his head, grinned, and departed. 
 
 The evening passed very pleasantly for Tom, who 
 needed nothing more than Patience's presence to make 
 him content, and after she had said good night he accom- 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN i2r 
 
 panied her uncle to the bar for a night-cap. As he 
 entered the room he thought he saw a movement out- 
 side the window, down in one corner of the sash, and 
 he slipped to the door and peered out. As he cogitated 
 about scouting around outside he heard Uncle Joe's voice 
 calling to him over the noise of the crowd and he made 
 his way back to the bar, drank to the success of the 
 coming expedition, and engaged in small talk with his 
 companion and those around them. But his thoughts 
 were elsewhere, for Hank had been gone a long time. 
 
 "Uncle Joe, how long have you known your wag- 
 oners?" he asked. 
 
 " Long enough to know 'em well." The trader re- 
 garded him quizzically. " Not worryin' about your mer- 
 chandise, are you?" 
 
 " I'm wondering where Hank is." 
 
 "In some trapper's rendezvous; he'll show up in th' 
 mornin' with nothin' worse than a headache." 
 
 "I'm not treating him right," soliloquized Tom. "A 
 man shouldn't forget his friends, especially when they're 
 as close as Hank is. I'm goin' lookin' for him. Good 
 night." 
 
 Uncle Joe watched him push his way directly through 
 the crowd, leaving a few scowls in his wake, and pop out 
 of the door ; and the older man nodded with satisfaction. 
 " A man shouldn't, Tom, my boy," he muttered. " Stick 
 to them that's stuck to you — always — forever — in 
 spite of hell. That's good medicine." 
 
 A tour of the places where trappers congregated was 
 barren of results until he had reached the last of such 
 resorts that he knew, and here he found Enoch Birdsall 
 and Alonzo Webb, who welcomed him with such vocifer- 
 
122 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ous greetings that he knew they had nearly reached the 
 quarrelsome stage. To his inquiries as to the where- 
 abouts of his partner they made boisterous replies, their 
 laughter rattling the windows. 
 
 "Or beaver's settin' a-top his house — no, 'tain't no 
 house. Settin' a-top yer pile o' goods cached with 
 Cooper's — you tell 'im," yelled Alonzo, slapping Enoch 
 across the back and nearly knocking him out of the chair. 
 "Youteirim, Ol' Buff'ler!" 
 
 "Prairie hen on his nest is more like him" shouted 
 Enoch, returning his friend's love tap with interest, 
 whereupon Alonzo missed twice and fell to the floor. 
 
 " Prairie hen on yer nose ! " yelled the prostrate trader, 
 trying to swim toward his partner. "Thar ain't no 
 prairie beaver as kin knock me down an' keep me thar! 
 Stan' up like a man, ye polecat ! An' I kin lick you, too ! " 
 he yelled, as Tom avoided his sweeping arm and hastened 
 toward the door. "Better run! Better run! Git 'im 
 Enoch, ye fool!" 
 
 Tom did not reach the front door, for with astonishing 
 speed and agility for one so far in his cups Enoch, taking 
 up the quarrel of his friend, whom he presently would 
 be fighting, leaped from the table, vaulted over a chair, 
 and by some miracle of drunken equilibrium landed on 
 his feet with his back to the door and swung both fists 
 at the surprised plainsman. Tom's eyes glinted, and then 
 twinkled. He had few better friends than these two 
 quarrelsome traders and, stepping back, he leaped over 
 the prostrate and anything but silent Alonzo and darted 
 out through the back door, laughing at the furious squab- 
 bling he left behind. Reaching the corner of the building, 
 he fell into his habitual softness of tread and slipped 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 125 
 
 along the rear of the shacks on a direct course for the 
 place where his and Cooper's merchandise was stored. 
 Schoolcraft's corral loomed up in front of him and he 
 skirted it silently. He almost had reached its far corner 
 when a Mexican's voice, raised in altercation inside the 
 inclosure, caught his ear and checked him, balanced on 
 one foot. 
 
 "For why he do eet?" demanded the Mexican, ex- 
 citedly. "I tol' heem that he mus' leeve Tomaz tr-rade 
 goods by themselves. He ees goin' to Santa Fe weethout 
 f or-rce ; an' now eet ees all spoil ! For what he do eet ? 
 Bah ! For hees revenge he say. What ees hees revenge 
 like Armijo's?" 
 
 " Oh, shut yer mouth an' stop yer yowlin'," growled a 
 gruff voice. " Eph alius knows what he's a-doin'." 
 
 The poised listener outside the corral paused to hear 
 no more but was off like a shadow, his stride a long, 
 swinging lope, for he was too wise to dash at full speed 
 and waste fighting breath for the sake of gaining a few 
 seconds. He made his devious way across a plain 
 studded with wagons, piles of freight and heaps of debris, 
 and before he reached his objective the sounds of con- 
 flict singled it out for him had he been in any doubt. 
 
 The open wagon-shed loomed suddenly before him and 
 he made out a struggling mass on the ground before it, 
 his partner's grunted curses and the growls of Cooper's 
 wagoner saving them from his attack. He went into the 
 mass feet first, landing with all his weight and the mo- 
 mentum of his run on a crouched man whose upraised 
 arm was only waiting for a sure opening. The knife 
 user grunted as he went down, and his head struck the 
 edge of a wagon- wheel with such force that he no longer 
 
124 "BRING ME HIS EARS*' 
 
 was a combatant. Tom had fallen to his knees after his 
 catapulting impact and when he arose he held a squirm- 
 ing halfbreed over his head at the height of his upraised 
 arms. One heave of his powerful body and the human 
 missile flew through the air and struck two of the half- 
 breed's friends as they sprang to their feet in sudden 
 alarm. They went down like tenpins and before they 
 could gain their feet again Tom dropped on one of them, 
 his knees squarely in the pit of the man's stomach, his 
 right hand on the throat of the other, while his left 
 gripped his adversary's knife hand and bent it steadily 
 and inexorably back toward the wrist. 
 
 "Th' little bobcat's j'ined us," panted Hank, crawling 
 onto the man he now rolled under him. "Tom Boyd, 
 Armijo's pet, with his fangs bared an' his claws out. 
 
 Take this, you ! " he grunted as his shoulder set' 
 
 itself behind the smashing blow. "How ye makin' out 
 with yer friend, Abe?" he asked of the other rolling 
 pair. 
 
 It seemed that Abe was not making out according to 
 Hank's specifications, so he crawled over to help him, 
 and reached out a hand. It fastened onto a skinny neck 
 and clamped shut, whereupon Abe rolled victoriously 
 free and paused to glower at his victim. His surprise, 
 while genuine, was of short duration, and he shook his 
 head at the cheerful Hank and then pounced onto the 
 man who had been used as a missile, and pinned him 
 to the ground. In a few moments the fight was over, 
 and the victors grinned sheepishly at each other in the 
 semi-darkness and re-arranged various parts of their 
 clothing. 
 
 "I saw somethin' smash inter th' waggin wheel an' 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 125 
 
 sorta reckoned you war some'rs 'round," panted Hank. 
 " Then I saw somethin' else sail inter th' air an' knock 
 over two o' th' thieves. Then I knowed ye war hyar. 
 Me an' Abe war doin' our best, but we war beginnin' ter 
 slip, like fur at th' end o' winter." 
 
 *' Ye mebbe war sheddin' a little," laughed Tom, "but 
 you'd 'a' shed them thieves afore ye petered out. Tell 
 me about it." 
 
 "Thar ain't nothin' ter tell," replied Hank. "I'm 
 nat' rally suspicious by bein' up in th' Crow country so 
 much o' my time, an' I got ter thinkin' 'bout School- 
 craft. I'm mostly stronger on hindsight than I am on 
 foresight, but this hyar's onct I sorta lined 'em both up 
 an' got a good bead. I snuk up ter his shanty an' heard 
 him an' that thar greaser chawin' tough meat with each 
 other. So I come down hyar, expectin' ter lay fer 'eni 
 with Abe; but danged if him an' them warn't at it al- 
 ready ! I only got two feet, two han's an' one mouth, an* 
 I had ter waste one foot a-standin' on it; but th' rest o' 
 me jined th' dance. Then you come. That's all." 
 
 " How long war you two holdin' off th' six o' 'em ? '' 
 demanded Tom of Abe with great interest, and thinking 
 that Cooper's trust was well placed. 
 
 "'Twarn't long; two comets an' about six hundred 
 stars, I reckon," mumbled the shrinking hero between 
 swollen lips. " I war jest gittin' mad enough to go fur 
 my knife when Hank gits in step with th' music, an' jines 
 han's with us. What we goin' ter do with 'em?" 
 
 " Oh, give 'em a kick apiece an' turn 'em loose without 
 thar weapons," suggested Hank. 
 
 Tom shook his head. " They come from Schoolcraft; 
 let's take 'em back to him," he suggested. 
 
126 "BRING ME HIS EARS" ^ 
 
 "Go ahead!" enthused Abe. Then he scratched his 
 head. " But who's goin' ter watch th' goods while we're 
 gone? Jake ain't due fer couple o' hours yet." 
 
 "You air!" snorted Hank. "You need a rest, an' 
 us two is shore enough." He prodded the figures on the 
 ground with the toe of his moccasin. "Git up, you 
 squaw dogs!" he ordered. 
 
 In a moment five thoroughly cowed men were plodding 
 before their guards. The sixth, who was still wandering 
 about on the far side of the boundary of consciousness, 
 was across Tom's shoulder. Reaching the horse-dealer's 
 shanty, the prisoners opened the door by the simple ex- 
 pedient of surging against it as they shrunk from the 
 pricks of Hank's skinning knife. The two men inside 
 escaped the crashing door by vaulting over 2L small table, 
 and before they could recover their wits in the face of 
 this amazing return of their friends they were looking 
 down the barrels of two six-shooters. 
 
 Tom dumped his burden onto the table, kicked a chair 
 through a closed window, swept an open ink bottle onto 
 Schoolcraft's manly stomach, and made a horrible face at 
 the pop-eyed Mexican. "Hyar they air, polecat," he 
 growled. "Any more raids on our goods an' I trail ye 
 an' shoot on sight. Don't give a cuss who does it, or 
 why ; ril git you. If I miss, Hank won't ; an' we both 
 got good friends. Come on. Hank, it stinks in here." 
 
 Tom turned and stalked out, but not so Hank. He 
 backed out behind his new-fangled weapon, pleasantly 
 thinking of its six ready shots, slid along the outside of 
 the shack and then waited with great hope for a head 
 to pop out of the door. Having had no chance to try- 
 out the Colt he was ciu*ious regarding its accuracy. No 
 
THE NEW SIX-GUN 127! 
 
 head popped, however, and after a moment he sighed, 
 sHpped along the corral wall and crossed the street when 
 far enough away to be covered by the darkness. Hank 
 had no faith in hostile humans and did not believe in 
 showing off. The thieving, treacherous Crows agreed 
 that the brave who took Hank Marshall's scalp would be 
 entitled to high honors ; with the mournful reflection that 
 by the time it was taken, if ever, the tribe would have 
 paid a very high price for it. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 TH^ CARAVAN 
 
 AT LAST came the day, and the dawn of it showed a 
 ^. cloudless sky, a sleeping town and a little caravan 
 winding, with rattle of chains and squeak of harness, 
 past the silent, straggling houses, bound westward for the 
 "prairie ocean." Despite the mud and the slowness of 
 the going high spirits ruled the little train. Youth was 
 about to do and dare, eager for the gamble with fate; 
 and age looked forward to the lure of the well-known 
 trail even as it looked backward in memory for faces 
 and experiences of the years gone by. The occasion 
 was auspicious, for the start was prompt to the minute 
 and earlier than any they would make later. They were 
 on the luxuriant and better wooded eastern rim of the 
 great plains, and would be on it for several days. 
 
 Joe Cooper, driving the small wagon with Patience 
 seated at his side, led the way, eager and exultant Fol- 
 lowing him closely came his two great Pittsburg wagons 
 with their still spotless new sheets, each loaded with 
 nearly three tons of selected merchandise, their immense 
 wheels grumbling a little as they slid a fraction of an 
 inch along their well-greased axles, their broad, new tires 
 squashing out twin canyons in the mud. Next came 
 two emigrant wagons, their proprietors fearing that they 
 would not reach the Oregon-bound train at its rendez- 
 yous in time to leave with it. Under their stained and 
 128 
 
THE CARAVAN 129 
 
 patched canvases two women slept as though in a steady; 
 bed, their children at their sides. Weeks of this traveling 
 had given to them the boon of being able to fall asleep 
 almost at will. Then came Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo 
 Webb, sober and gay, abusing each other humorously, 
 each in his own wagon, handling their strung-out teams 
 with nonchalant ease. Close to the rear of the last wagon 
 came the eight mules of Tom Boyd and Hank Marshall, 
 four to a string, followed by their horse-mounted own- 
 ers; and behind them were Jim Ogden and Zeb Hough- 
 ton, each driving two mules before them. 
 
 The road was in execrable condition, its deep ruts 
 masked by a mud as miry as it appeared to be bottomless, 
 and several times the great wagons were mired so hard 
 and fast that it took the great ox teams of Alonzo and 
 Enoch, hooked on in addition to the original mule teams, 
 to pull them out; and the emigrant wagons, drawn by 
 over-worked oxen, gave nearly as much trouble. The 
 story of their progress to Council Grove would be tiring, 
 since it would be but little more than a recital of the same 
 things over and over again — the problems presented 
 by the roads. 
 
 At Round Grove they said good-bye to the emigrants, 
 who joined the rear guard of their own caravan at this 
 point. Along the so-called Narrows, the little ridge 
 forming the watershed between the Kansas and Osage 
 rivers, for a stretch extending quite some distance west- 
 ward from Round Grove, the roads were hardly more 
 than a series of mudholes filmed over -and masked by 
 apparently firm ground. In some of these treacherous 
 traps the wagons often sank to the hubs, and on two oc-* 
 casions the bottom of the wagon-box rested on the mudj 
 
I30 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 It was hopeless to try to pull them out with the animals 
 so deep in mud, and only by finding more firm ground 
 along the side of the trail, the use of long chains and the 
 aid of every draft animal in the train were the huge 
 wagons dragged out. The men themselves waded into 
 the traps, buried at times almost to the waist, and put 
 their shoulders to wheels and wagon-boxes and pushed 
 and heaved and floundered; and they kept their spirits 
 high despite the penetrating cold of the mire. Under 
 these conditions stops were frequent to rest both teams 
 and men, the "noonings" were prolonged, camp made 
 earlier in the evening than was usual and left later in 
 the morning. The tally of miles was disheartening, and 
 to make matters worse a heavy downpour of chilling rain 
 fell half a day before they reached i lo Mile Creek which, 
 besides making everyone miserable and spoiling the cook- 
 ing, swelled the stream so much that it was crossed only 
 with the greatest difficulty. 
 
 One of the few things they were grateful for was the 
 fact that they did not have to keep regular guard watches 
 at night, for while the Kaws and Osages might steal an 
 animal or two in hope of receiving a little whiskey, pow- 
 der, or tobacco for its return, there was no danger of 
 wholesale stampeding, and a man or two was sufficient 
 to watch the camp. 
 
 One pleasant incident occurred when they pulled in 
 sight of Switzler's Creek, where they found another sec- 
 tion of the caravan in camp. The augmented train now 
 numbered about twenty-six wagons and formed a rear 
 guard worthy of the name. The weather had cleared 
 again and the sun shone brightly all the way to Council 
 Grove. To offset the pleasant effect of joining the other 
 
THE CARAVAN 131 
 
 train, it was at Switzler's Creek that a hard-pushed mule 
 train overtook them. With it came the httle Mexican 
 and half a dozen of his compatriots, and several of 
 Ephriam Schoolcraft's chosen bullies. At their appear- 
 ance Hank Marshall found a new interest in life, and 
 there was very little occurring in the new mule train that 
 he missed. His habits now became a little similar to 
 those of the cat tribe, for he resorted to his old trick of 
 dozing while riding, catching naps at the noonings, be- 
 fore dark and after dawn. With him awake at night and 
 Tom awake during the day, and with Jim Ogden's and 
 Zeb Houghton's nocturnal prowlings thrown in the bal- 
 ance, it looked as though Hank's remark about " nobody 
 ketchin' these beavers asleep" would be fully justified. 
 
 Council Grove was reached one noon, and they learned 
 that they would have plenty of time to do the many 
 little things neglected on the way, for they would stay 
 here two days. This was welcome news, as it gave them 
 an opportunity to let the draft animals rest and feed well 
 in preparation for the long prairie haul ahead. 
 
 Council Grove of the caravan days is worthy of notice. 
 It was the meeting place as well as the council place for 
 those who were to cross the prairies together. To it ran 
 the feeding roads, gradually growing as strands feed a 
 rope, the loose and frayed ends starting from the Mis- 
 souri River points and converging as they neared the 
 grove. Named from a council and a treaty which took 
 place there between a government commission sent out 
 to survey a wagon road to the Arkansas River, and a 
 tribe of Osages, in which safety for the traders was ob- 
 tained from these savages, it was doubly well named 
 because of the yearly councils which were held between 
 
-132 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 the traders themselves to perfect the organization of the 
 caravan. 
 
 The grove itself, of oak, ash, hickory, elm, and many 
 other kinds of trees, was about half a mile wide and ex- 
 tended along the sides of the little valley of Council 
 Grove Creek, a large tributary of the Neosho River. 
 With its dense timber, its rich bottom pastures, and fine, 
 high prairies it made an ideal spot for a rendezvous; 
 and it was about the last of the really fine and productive 
 country seen from Independence. Here were hard 
 woods in plenty, the last to be found on the long trip, 
 from which to obtain replacements for broken axles and 
 other wagon parts. This also was the farthest point 
 reached by the trains without real organization, for from 
 here on every important movement was officially ordered. 
 
 Scattered about the beautiful, green little valley were 
 wagons great and small, and piles of mule packs, each 
 camp somewhat by itself. There was much calling and 
 getting acquainted, fun and frolic, much hewing of trees, 
 mending of gear, and, in general, busy preparation for 
 the journey over the land of the short buffalo grass. 
 Tenderfeet wasted their time and ammunition at target 
 practice or in hunting for small game, and loafed to 
 their hearts' content; but the experienced traveler put 
 off his loafing and play until he knew that he had done 
 everything there was to be done. There were horse races 
 and mule races and even ox-team races; tugs of war, 
 running, jumping, and, in fact, everything anyone could 
 think of to help pass the time. 
 
 After a good night's sleep the Cooper party found 
 there was little to do except to get timber for "spares,'* 
 ^nd notwithstanding that a spare axle was slung from 
 
THE CARAVAN 
 
 under each of the huge freighters. Uncle Joe insisted 
 that each wagon carry another, and he personally su- 
 perintended the cutting. They had been obtained and 
 slung in place beside the others when a bugle was heard 
 and criers passed among the little camps calling everyone 
 for roll call. Nearly two hundred persons answered, all 
 but one of them being men, and then the electioneering 
 began for the choice of captain. To be a success a cara- 
 van must have one head, and the more experienced he 
 was the better it would be for the caravan. 
 
 Now came the real excitement of the day, for party 
 spirit was strong and insistent, and the electioneering 
 was carried on with such gusto that several fights grew 
 out of it. There were four parties at first, among which 
 was Mike Wardell's, comprising the rougher, more law- 
 less frontier element. He was a close friend of Ephriam 
 Schoolcraft and he had his admirers outside of his own 
 class, for a group of tenderfeet which was impressed by 
 his swaggering, devil-may-care manners backed him in 
 a body ; and another group which was solidly behind him 
 was composed of the poorer Mexican traders. The sec- 
 ond of the larger parties with a candidate in the field, 
 who had been nominated by a series of caucuses, was 
 made up of the more experienced and more responsible 
 traders, veterans of the trail who put safety and order 
 above all other considerations. This party nominated 
 Zachary Woodson, who had more wagons in the cara- 
 van than any other one man, therefore having more at 
 stake, and who had not missed his round trip over the 
 route for a dozen years. His nomination split the Mex- 
 icans, for half of them had wagons and valuable freights^ 
 and were in favor of the best leadership. 
 
X34 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 At first Woodson flatly refused to run, sneeringly re- 
 minding his friends of the lack of cooperation he could 
 expect from the very men who needed law and order and 
 leadership most. He knew by bitter experience that the 
 captain of a Santa Fe caravan had no real authority and 
 that his orders were looked upon as mere requests, to be 
 obeyed or not, as the mood suited. He was obdurate in 
 his refusal until a split occurred in the other strong party 
 and resulted^ in a disgraceful fight among its members, 
 which was kept from having disastrous results only by 
 the determined interposition of the more resolute mem- 
 bers of his own party. This caused the two smaller fac- 
 tions to abandon their own candidates and throw them- 
 selves against Wardell, and resulted in the overwhelming 
 election of the man best suited for the position. 
 
 His first act after grudgingly accepting the thankless 
 leadership was to ask for a list of the men, wagons, and 
 pack animals, and he so engineered the division of them 
 that each section had as its lieutenant a man whom he 
 could trust and who did not lack in physical courage so 
 much needed to get some kind of order and to keep it. 
 The great train was divided into four divisions, at the 
 present to join so as to march in two columns ; but later 
 to spread out and travel in divisional order of four 
 straight columns abreast, far enough apart so that the 
 width of the whole front roughly would equal the length 
 of a column. 
 
 Next came the arrangement of the watches, the most 
 cordially hated of all caravan duties. In this train of 
 nearly ninety wagons there were nearly one hundred and 
 eighty men physically able to stand a guard, and no one 
 who was able to stand his trick was let off. The captain 
 
THE CARAVAN 135 
 
 preferred the regular and generally accepted system of 
 two watches, each of four squads, which put one squad 
 on duty for three hours each alternate night; but there 
 were so many men for this disagreeable task that he 
 allowed himself to be over-ruled and consented to a 
 three watch system, six squads to the watch, which put 
 one watch of nine men and a corporal on duty for two 
 hours every third night. Almost any concession was 
 worth making if it would arouse a little interest and a 
 sense of duty in this very important matter of guarding 
 the camp. The corporal of each squad arranged to shift 
 up one tour each time their squad went on, which would 
 give no one squad the same hours for its successive tours 
 of duty. Nothing could have been fairer than this, but 
 there were objectors in plenty. Each one of the kickers 
 had his own, perfect plan. Some wanted smaller squads 
 with the same number of watches so that each tour of 
 duty would be less; some wanted two watches and 
 smaller squads, to the same end, both of which would 
 have caused endless changing of the guard, endless awak- 
 enings all night long, with practically continuous noise 
 and confusion. Captain Woodson, having abandoned 
 the regular and tried system so as to let the men feel a 
 sense of cooperation, flatly refused to allow any fur- 
 ther changes, and in consequence earned the smoldering 
 grudges of no small number, which would persist until 
 the end of the trail and provide an undercurrent of dis- 
 satisfaction quick to seize on any pretext to make trouble. 
 For the division officers he chose the four men he had 
 in mind, after over-ruling a demand for a vote on them. 
 As long as he was responsible for the safety of the cara- 
 van he declared that it was his right to appoint lieuten- 
 
136 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 ants whom he knew and could trust. The bickering had 
 fresh fuel and continued strong all day, and it would last 
 out the journey. 
 
 Arranging the divisions so far as possible to put 
 friends together, with the exception of some of the ten- 
 derfoot parties, they were numbered, from left to right, 
 as they would travel, and he was careful to put the more 
 experienced plainsmen on the two outside ranks and, 
 where possible, the better drivers in the two inner col- 
 umns. These latter had a little more complex course to 
 follow in case of sudden need to corral the caravan. For 
 corralling while traveling in two columns, he instructed 
 the drivers to follow the wagon ahead and to stop when 
 his own wagon tongue came even with the rim of the rear 
 wheel of the wagon he was following. In case of cor- 
 ralling in face of danger, they were to swing their teams 
 to the inside of the leading wagon, so as to have all the 
 animals on the inside of the corral; in ordinary camping 
 they were to swing their teams in the other direction, so 
 the animals would be ready to graze outside of the cor- 
 ralled wagons. They were to pay no attention to direc- 
 tion or to sudden inspirations, but were blindly to follow 
 the wagon in front of them and to close up the gaps. 
 The leading driver of each column would set the curving 
 track which would bring the wagons into a great ellipse 
 or a circle while moving in the two column formation. 
 
 The first and fourth columns were commanded by Jim 
 Ogden and Tom Boyd, while the two inner columns were 
 under a trader named Haviland and a sullen, mean-tem- 
 pered trader of Independence and a warm friend of 
 Schoolcraft. His name was Franklin, and while his per- 
 sonal attributes were unpleasant and he was a leader of 
 
THE CARAVAN 137 
 
 the Schoolcraft element, he was a first class caravan man 
 and had proved his coolness and resourcefulness in many 
 a tight place. His appointment also served in a measure 
 to placate the rebellious element, which nursed the 
 thought that it could do about as it pleased in its own 
 column. Whether they were right or wrong in this re- 
 mained to be seen. While the two column formation was 
 in use the first and second divisions made up one of 
 them; the third and fourth, the other. To Tom's de- 
 light he found that the Cooper wagons had been assigned 
 to his own division; but as an offset to this two wagons 
 belonging to gallivanting tenderfeet had been placed 
 directly behind them. It was not pleasant to think of 
 these dandified city sports being so close to Patience 
 Cooper all the way to Santa Fe. Like many men in love, 
 he was prone to discount the intelligence and affections 
 of the loved one and to let his fears threaten his com- 
 mon sense. 
 
 The first great watch went on duty at seven o'clock 
 that night, more for the purpose of breaking the men in 
 to their work than for any need of defense, for no 
 Indian troubles, despite the rumors afloat in Independ- 
 ence, were to be looked for so far east. There was a 
 great deal of joking and needless challenging that night 
 and very little attempt to follow instructions. An Indian 
 likes nothing better than a noisy, standing sentry; but 
 this savage preference hardly would be shown in the 
 vicinity of Council Grove. Woodson knew that disci- 
 pline could not be obtained and that every man would 
 <io as he pleased until the encampment received a good 
 scare, but his own sense of responsibility impelled him 
 to make an effort to get it. 
 
138 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 The next day was passed in resting, in placing the 
 wagons in their order of march,, land in drilHng the drivers 
 in caravan tactics ; and that night the guard was as noisy 
 as it had been the night before. The squad which went 
 on duty at one o'clock contained two tenderfeet and 
 between them they succeeded in shattering the monotony. 
 
 A quarter of an hour after the guard had been changed 
 tenderfoot Number One thought he heard a sound and 
 saw a movement. He promptly challenged and fired in 
 the same instant. His weapon was a double-barreled 
 fowling piece charged with buckshot, and there was no 
 doubt about the deadly efficiency of such a combination 
 when the corporal found the carcass of a mule with a 
 hole in it nearly as big as a hat. The camp was thrown 
 into an uproar, guns flashed from the wagons to the 
 imminent peril of the rest of the sentries, and only the 
 timely and rough interference of a cool-headed trapper 
 kept the two four-pounders from being fired. They 
 were loaded with musket balls and pebbles and trained 
 on three wagons not fifty yards from them. Orders, 
 counter orders, suggestions, shouts for balls, powder, 
 flints, caps, patches, ramrods, and for about everything 
 human minds could think of kept the encampment in a 
 pandemonium until sense was driven into the panicky 
 men and the camp allowed to resume its silence. 
 
 Tenderfoot Number Two heard and saw an Indian 
 approaching him and fired his pistol at the savage. This 
 took place near the end of the same guard tour. Only 
 his fright and the poor light which made his wobbling 
 aim all the more uncertain saved the life of his best 
 friend who, restless and lonely, was going out to share 
 the remainder of the watch with him. Again pande- 
 
THE CARAVAN 139 
 
 monium reigned and weapons exploded, but this time the 
 cattle stampeded in the darkness, doing the best they 
 could with their handicap of hobbles. 
 
 At dawn the caravan was astir, the blast from the 
 bugle not needed this time, for almost every man had 
 animals to hunt for and drive in, and as a result of this 
 breakfasts were late and the whole day's operations were 
 thrown out of step. Finally after all the stampeded ani- 
 mals had been rounded up and the morning meal was out 
 of the way, and things done at the last minute which 
 should have been done the day before, preparations were 
 started to get under way. Mules and horses broke loose 
 and had to be chased and brought back; animals balked 
 and kicked and helped to turn the camp into a scene of 
 noisy confusion. Several parties found that they had 
 neglected to cut spare axles and forthwith sallied off to 
 get them. Others frantically looked for articles they 
 had misplaced or loaned, one wagon being entirely un- 
 packed to find a coffee pot and a frying pan which some- 
 one else later discovered at the edge of the creek where 
 they had been dropped after they had been washed, their 
 owner having left them to get a shot at a squirrel he 
 thought he saw. The forehanded and wiser members of 
 the caravan took advantage of the delay and turmoil to 
 cut an extra supply of firewood against a future need, 
 add to their store of picket stakes and also to fill their 
 water casks to keep them swelled tight beyond question, 
 against the time when the much dreaded dry stretch 
 should be reached. 
 
 At last from the captain's camp the well-known sum- 
 mons of "Catch up!" was heard, and passed on from 
 group to group along the creek. Those who had not 
 
I40 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 yet hitched up their teams, almost at every case old hands 
 at the game who were wise enough to let their animals 
 gpraze until the last minute, now exultantly drove in their 
 teams and filled the little valley with the rattle of chains, 
 the clicking of yokes, the braying of indignant mules, and 
 their own vociferations. Soon a teamster yelled "All's 
 set!" and answering shouts rolled up and down the 
 divisions. At the shouted command of " Stretch out ! " 
 whips cracked, harness creaked, chains rattled and wag- 
 ons squeaked as the shouting drivers straightened out 
 their teams. " Fall in ! " came next, and the teams were 
 urged into the agreed-upon order, the noses of the lead- 
 ers of one team close to the tailboard of the wagon ahead. 
 The second and third divisions, falling in behind the first 
 and fourth, made two strings rolling up the long western 
 slope of the valley toward the high prairie at its crest. 
 
 Songs, jokes, exultant shouts ran along the trains as 
 the valley was left behind, for now the caravan truly was 
 embarked on the journey, and every mile covered put 
 civilization that much farther in the rear. Straight 
 ahead lay the trail, beaten into a plain, broad track lead- 
 ing toward the sunset, a mark which could not be mis- 
 taken and which rendered the many compasses valueless 
 so far as the trail itself was concerned. 
 
 The first day's travel was a comparatively short one, 
 and during the drive the officers rode back along the lines 
 and again explained the formation which would be used 
 at the next stopping place. This point was so near that 
 the caravan kept on past the noon hour and did not stop 
 until it reached Diamond Spring, a large, crystal spring 
 emptying into a small brook close to a very good camp- 
 ing ground. The former camp no sooner had been left 
 
THE CARAVAN 141 
 
 than the tenderfeet began to show their predilection to do 
 as they pleased and to ride madly over the prairie in 
 search of game which was not there, finally gravitating 
 to a common body a mile or more ahead of the wagons, 
 a place to which they stuck with a determination worthy 
 of better things. 
 
 At Diamond Spring came the first clash against 
 authority, for the captain had told each lieutenant to 
 get his division across all streams before stopping. The 
 word had been passed along the twin lines and seemed 
 to have been tacitly accepted, yet when the wagons 
 reached the brook many of the last two divisions, think- 
 ing the farther bank too crowded and ignoring the for- 
 mation of the night encampment, pulled up and stopped 
 on the near side. After some argument most of them 
 crossed over and took up their proper places in the corral, 
 but there were some who expressed themselves as being 
 entirely satisfied to remain where they were, since there 
 was no danger from Indians at this point. The animals 
 were turned loose to graze, restrained only by hobbles 
 until nightfall, the oxen in most cases yoked together to 
 save trouble with the stubborn beasts imtil they should 
 become trained and more docile. They were the most 
 senseless of the draft animals, often stampeding for no 
 apparent cause; the sudden rattle of a chain or a yoke 
 often being all that was needed to turn them into a 
 fleshy avalanche; and while the Indians did not want 
 oxen, they seemed to be aware of the excitable natures 
 of the beasts and made use of their knowledge to start 
 stampedes among the other animals with them, much 
 the same as fulminate of mercury is used to detonate a 
 charge of a more stable explosive. 
 
142 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The first two watches of the night were pleasant, but 
 when Tom Boyd's squad went on duty an hour before 
 midnight there was a change in the weather, and before 
 half an hour had passed the rain fell in sheets and sent 
 some of the guards to seek shelter in the wagons. Two 
 of them were tenderfeet, one of Schoolcraft's friends and 
 a trader. Tom was the so-called corporal of this watch 
 and he was standing his trick as vigilantly as if they 
 were in the heart of the Kiowa or Comanche country. 
 He carefully had instructed his men and had posted them 
 in the best places, and he knew where each of them 
 should be found. After half an hour of the downpour 
 he made the rounds, called the roll and then slipped back 
 into the encampment in search of the missing men. Not 
 knowing them well enough at this time he did not know 
 the wagons to which they belonged, and he had to wait 
 until later to hunt them out. 
 
 Dawn found a wet and dispirited camp as the last 
 guard returned to the wagons an hour before they should 
 have left their posts. Not a fire would burn properly and 
 not a breakfast was thoroughly cooked. Everyone 
 seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, and the animals 
 were mean and rebellious when driven in for the hobbles 
 to be removed and picket ropes substituted to hold them. 
 Breakfast at last over, the caravan was about to start 
 when Tom went along his own division and called four 
 men together. 
 
 "Last night you fellers quit yer posts an' slunk back 
 ter yer wagons," he said, ominously. "Two of ye air 
 tenderfeet, an' green ter this life; one is a trader an' 
 th' other is an old hand on th' trail. You all ought ter 
 know better. I'm lettin' ye off easy this time, but th' 
 
THE CARAVAN 145 
 
 next man that breaks guard is goin' ter git a cussed fine 
 lickin'. If it's necessary I'll make an invalid out o' any 
 man in my squad that sneaks off his post. Git back ter 
 yer wagons, an' don't fergit what I've said." 
 
 The tenderfeet were pugnacious, but doubtful of their 
 ground; the trader was abashed by the keen knowledge 
 of his guilt and the enormity of his offense. He was a 
 just man and had no retort to make. The teamster, a 
 bully and a rough, with a reputation to maintain, scowled 
 around the closely packed circle, looking for sympathy, 
 and found plenty of it because the crowd was anxious to 
 see the corporal, as personifying authority, soundly 
 thrashed. They felt that no one had any right to expect 
 a man to stand guard in such a rain out in the cheerless 
 dark for two hours, especially when it was admitted that 
 there was no danger to be feared. Finding encourage- 
 ment to justify his attitude, and eager to wipe out the 
 sting of the lecture, the bully grinned nastily and took a 
 step forward. 
 
 " Reg'lar pit-cock, ain't ye ? " he sneered. *' High an' 
 mighty with yer mouth, ain't ye ? Goin' ter boss things 
 right up ter th' hilt, you air! Wall, ye — I'm wettin* 
 yer primin', hyar an' " 
 
 Tom stopped the words with a left on the mouth, and 
 while the fight lasted it was fast and furious ; but clumsy 
 brute strength, misdirected by a blind rage, could not 
 cope with a greater strength, trained, agile, and cool; 
 neither could a liquor soaked carcass for long take the 
 heavy punishment that Tom methodically was giving it 
 and come back for more. As the bullwhacker went down 
 in the mud for the fifth time, there was a finality about 
 the fall that caused his conqueror to wheel abruptly from 
 
144 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 him and face the ring of eager and disappointed faces. 
 
 ** I wam't too busy ter hear some o' th' remarks," he 
 snarled. " Now's th' time ter back 'em up! If ye don't 
 it makes a double liar out o' ye! Come on — step out, 
 an' git it over quick ! " He glanced at the two pugnacious 
 tender feet. " You two make about one man, th' way we 
 rate 'em out hyar ; come on, both o' ye I " 
 
 While they hesitated, Captain Woodson pushed through 
 the crowd into the ring, closely followed by Tom's grim 
 and silent friends, and a slender Mexican, the latter obvi- 
 ously solicitous about Tom's welfare. In a few moments 
 the excitement died down and the crowd dispersed to its 
 various wagons and pack animals. As Tom went toward 
 his mules he saw Franklin, the tough officer of the third 
 division, facing a small group of his own friends, and 
 suddenly placing his hand against the face of one of them, 
 pushed the man off his balance. 
 
 "I'll cut yer spurs," Franklin declared. "Fust man 
 sneaks off guard in my gang will wish ter G — d he 
 didn't!" He turned away and met Tom face to face. 
 "We'll larn 'em, Boyd," he growled. "I'm aimin' ter 
 bust th' back o' th' first kiyote of my gang that leaves 
 his post un watched. If one o' them gits laid up fer th' 
 rest o' th' trip th' others'U stand ter it, rain or no rain. 
 Ye should 'a' kicked in his ribs while ye had 'im down ! " 
 
 After a confused and dilatory start the two trains 
 strung out over the prairie and went on again; but the 
 rebellious wagon-owners on the east side of the creek 
 were not with the caravan. They were learning their 
 lesson. 
 
 The heavy rain had swollen the waters of the stream, 
 stirred up its soft bed and turned its banks into treacher- 
 
THE CARAVAN 145 
 
 ous inclines slippery with mud. When the mean-spirited 
 teams had been hooked to the wagons and sullenly obeyed 
 the commands to move, they balked in mid-stream and 
 would not cross it in their " cold collars ; " and there they 
 remained, halfway over. In vain the drivers shouted and 
 swore and whipped ; in vain they pleaded and in vain they 
 called for help. The main part of the caravan, for once 
 united in spirit, perhaps because it was a mean one, went 
 on without them, knowing that the recalcitrant rear 
 guard was in no danger ; the sullen spirit of meanness in 
 every heart rejoicing in the lesson being learned by their 
 stubborn fellow travelers. The captain would have held 
 up the whole train to give necessary assistance to any 
 unfortunate wagoner; but there was no necessary assist- 
 ance required here, for they could extricate themselves 
 if they went about it right ; and there was a much-needed 
 lesson to be assimilated. Their predicament secretly 
 pleased every member of the main body, which was 
 somewhat humorous, when it is considered that the great 
 majority of the men in the main body had no scruples 
 against disobeying any order that did not suit their 
 mood. 
 
 Finally, enraged by being left behind, the stubborn 
 wagoners remembered one of the reasons advanced by 
 the captain the day before when he had urged them to 
 cross over and complete the corral. He had spoken of 
 the difficulty of getting the animals to attempt a hard 
 pull in " cold collars," when they would do the work with- 
 out pausing while they were "warmed up." So after 
 considerable eloquence and persistent urging had availed 
 them naught, the disgruntled wagoners jumped into the 
 cold water, waded to the head of the teams and, turning 
 
146 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 them around, got them back onto the bank they had left 
 after vainly trying to lead them across. Once out of the 
 creek, the teams were driven over a circle a mile in cir- 
 cumference to get their "collars warm." Approaching 
 the creek at a good pace, the teams crossed it without 
 pausing and slipped and floundered up the muddy bank at 
 the imminent risk of overturning the wagons. Reaching 
 the top, they started after the plodding caravan and in due 
 time overtook it and found their allotted places in the 
 lines, to some little sarcastic laughter. Never after that 
 did those wagoners refuse to cross any stream at camp 
 time, while their teams were warmed up and willing to 
 pull ; but instead of giving the captain any credit for his 
 urging and his arguments, wasted the day before, they 
 blamed him for going on without them, and nursed a 
 grudge against him and his officers that showed itself at 
 times until the end of the long journey. They would not 
 let themselves believe that he would have refused really 
 to desert them. 
 
 The caravan made only fifteen miles and camped on a 
 rise of the open prairie, where practice was obtained in 
 forming a circular corral, with the two cannons on the 
 crest of the rise. The evolution was performed with 
 snap and precision, the sun having appeared in mid-fore- 
 noon and restored the sullen spirits to natural buoyancy. 
 The first squad of the watch went on duty with military 
 promptness, much to the surprise of the more experienced 
 travelers. Here for the first time was adopted a system 
 of grazing which was a hobby with the captain, who 
 believed that hobbled animals wasted too much time in 
 picking and choosing the best grass and in wandering 
 around. He maintained that picketed animals would eat 
 
THE CARAVAN 147 
 
 more in the same time, and so each wagoner was given 
 a stretch of prairie as wide as the space occupied by his 
 wagon and reaching out about one hundred yards, fan- 
 wise, from the corral. Picket ropes of from twenty to 
 thirty feet in length let each animal of his team graze 
 over a circle of that radius, the center being a stake of 
 hardwood two inches thick and about two feet long. 
 Some of the pickets were pointed with iron and had a 
 band of the same metal shrunk around the upper and 
 near the top to keep them from splitting under repeated 
 axe blows. Many of the others had their points hardened 
 by fire, and a pointed hickory or ash picket so treated 
 will stand a lot of abuse. Before dark the pickets were 
 shifted to new places and the animals left to graze all 
 night, for Indian visits still were a matter of the future. 
 
 After they had finished their supper and washed and 
 put away the few utensils, Tom as usual drifted off to 
 spend an hour or two with Uncle Joe and Patience. He 
 had not been gone long before Hank got up to loosen a 
 pack to get a fresh plug of smoking tobacco, and caught 
 sight of Pedro, the Mexican, sauntering toward him. 
 The visitor grinned cheerfully and sat down by the dying 
 fire, acting as though he had every reason to be accorded 
 a cordial welcome. 
 
 " Hah ! " exclaimed the self-invited guest in rare good 
 humor. " Eet ess good to get out on thee gr-reat pr-rairie ; 
 but eet would haf been better eef we had went weeth 
 thee fir-rst tr-rain. Weeth that tr-rain was thee tr-roops. 
 We would be better pr-rotect." 
 
 Hank was undecided whether he should turn his back 
 on the visitor and walk away, or grab him by the collar 
 and the slack of his trousers and throw him from the fire. 
 
148 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 when habitual cunning made him grunt his endorsement 
 of the other's remarks. He never was above acquiring 
 what information he could get, no matter how trivial it 
 might be. 
 
 "Yeah," he replied, passing the plug to his guest. 
 "Fill yer pipe, or make a cigarette," he invited. "Them 
 danged settlements air all right fer a change, but this 
 hyar is a hull lot better; an' th' mountings air better'n 
 this. As fer th' dragoons with th' fust train, it's plumb 
 welcome to 'em. Thar more trouble than thar worth; 
 an' they alius will be till they larn ter fight Injuns in th' 
 Injun way. Th' idear o' usin' th' right hand fer a sword 
 an' th' left fer a pistol ! I'd ruther be with a passel o' 
 mounting boys, fur's fightin' Injuns air consarned. Any- 
 how, jest when they git whar they're needed most, down 
 on th' edge o' th' Kiowa an' Comanche country, th' 
 danged dragoons has ter stop." 
 
 "But senor; they must not tr-read on Mexican soil," 
 protested Pedro. 
 
 Hank grinned and choked down the retort he was 
 about to make, nodding his head instead. " Shore ; that's 
 th' trouble. Now, if that danged Governor o' yourn 
 would meet th' train at Cimarron Crossin' an* go th' rest 
 o' th' way with it, thar'd be some sense ter troop escorts. 
 Thar ain't a sojer along th' worst stretch o' th' whole 
 trail. I'll bet ye we won't see hide ner hair o' 'em this 
 side o' Cold Spring, when th' danger from raidin' Injuns 
 is 'most over." 
 
 Pedro spread his hands helplessly. " That ees but too 
 tr-rue, senor. Theese time we weel not see thee br-rave 
 tr-roops of Mexico befor-re we r-reach thee Wagoo- 
 Mound." 
 
THE CARAVAN j49 
 
 " Thar ! " triumphantly exclaimed Hank. " What did 
 I tell ye ? They used ter git as fur as Cold Spring, any- 
 how ; but now thar waitin' at th' Wagon Mound. Next 
 thing we know they'll be waitin' at San Miguel fer ter 
 see us safe th' last fifty miles through th' settlements ! " 
 
 "Eet ees thee Apaches that ar-re to blame theese 
 time," explained Pedro with oily smoothness. "They 
 ar-re ver' bad theese year along thee Rio Gr-rande del 
 Norte. Ver' bad!" 
 
 "Yeah," grunted Hank, puffing reflectively on his 
 pipe. "Mexico an' Texas both claim all that country 
 east o' th' Grande, but th' Apaches shore own it, an' run 
 it ter suit theirselves. Bad Injuns, they air." 
 
 "Thee customs they ar-re ver' str-rict theese year,"^ 
 commented Pedro, closely watching his companion. 
 " They ar-re ver' har-rd on my poor countrymen. They 
 keep thee pr-rices so high on all theese goods." 
 
 "Tarnation bother," grunted Hank, beginning to get 
 the reason for the Mexican's interest in him. " Too bad 
 we don't know somebody that kin git us past 'em," he 
 suggested, hopefully. 
 
 Pedro rubbed his hands complacently and helped to 
 maintain a prolonged silence; which at last was broken 
 by small talk concerning the caravan and its various 
 members. After half an hour of this aimless conversa- 
 tion he arose to leave. 
 
 "Thee customs, as you haf so tr-ruly said, ar-re ver' 
 gr-reat bother, Sefior Hank. I know thees ver' much, 
 for I haf a br-rother in thee custom house. We ar-re ver'' 
 close, my br-rother an' me. I weel see you again, sefior. 
 Eet ees good that we get acquaint, weeth so ver' many 
 milla yet to tr-ravel together. Buenos noches, seiior." 
 
150 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 "Good night," replied Hank, carefully pulling the 
 unburned wood out of the fire to serve for the cooking 
 of the breakfast. He glanced after the dapper Mexican 
 and grinned, re-roped the pack, and wandered off to join 
 his trapper friends at their fire. 
 
 ** Grease is slippery; an' so is greasers," he chuckled. 
 " Wall, thar's plenty o' time to figger jest what he's arter. 
 Might be cheatin' th' customs, an' then ag'in it might 
 not." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 KN ROUTI^ 
 
 TOM'S duties as a lieutenant were to supervise his 
 column, ride ahead of the train on lookout for pos- 
 sible obstructions or dangers, go on ahead to creeks and 
 see that the banks sloped enough to permit the wagons 
 to take them safely, to hunt out and bridge morasses and 
 quagmires that could not be avoided. If the banks were 
 too steep he and others of the caravan were to ride ahead 
 with axes, shovels, and mattocks and cut a sloping road 
 through them ; if a morass or a treacherous creek bed had 
 to be crossed they had to cut great numbers of saplings, 
 branches, and brush and build up a causeway of alter- 
 nate layers of wood and dirt. This would not take 
 long and if properly done, every wagon could cross in 
 safety. 
 
 The caravan in movement should have presented a 
 formation of wagons in orderly array, preceded by the 
 captain and officers, flanked at a good distance on both 
 sides by well-armed riders, and followed by a fairly 
 strong rear-guard; but no such ideal formation could be 
 maintained except under the discipline of a military or 
 paid force. The flankers rode far and wide searching 
 endlessly for game and usually wound up with the ad- 
 vance guard, a mile or more ahead. The rear guard 
 dwindled rapidly and soon joined the others far in ad- 
 vance, leaving the crawling wagons entirely unprotected 
 151 
 
152 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 from any sudden attack by Indians who might have lain 
 concealed in one of the numerous prairie hollows. 
 
 There were four conditions every twenty-four hours 
 especially liked by the savages. One was during the 
 night, between midnight and dawn ; another as the cara- 
 van got under way, when there was more or less confusion 
 and the wagons had broken the corral formation enough 
 so it could not be re-formed quickly ; a third was during 
 the day when every man who did not have to drive was 
 galivanting a mile or more away, blazing at rattlesnakes 
 or prairie dogs and making a fool of himself generally, 
 his thoughts on everything except the safety of the train 
 he had deserted; and the fourth was in the evening just 
 as the animals were being staked outside, when most of 
 the men were busy with them and some distance outside 
 the wagon ramparts, many of the more careless being 
 unarmed. To offset these conditions so favorable to sur- 
 prise attacks on the caravan was one of the captain's most 
 important duties, and the urgent consideration of water 
 and good grass many times complicated his problems. 
 
 Captain Woodson at one time had been a trapper, and 
 his early experiences with the fur expeditions here stood 
 him in good stead, especially his knowledge about Indians. 
 He continually hammered at the men to flank properly 
 and to scour the country on each side of the caravan for 
 a mile or more and to investigate every hollow and rise 
 capable of hiding horses. Before he called the halt for 
 the " noonings " or the encampments in the evenings, he 
 urged that the surrounding country be well scouted over 
 and everything suspicious reported. For the crews of 
 the two cannons, which had been changed the morning 
 following the narrowly averted calamity of a few days 
 
 I 
 
EN ROUTE 153 
 
 back, he had picked men who appeared to be calm and 
 resourceful, and these weapons trundled along on their 
 wheeled carriages in a strategic position, their crews 
 ordered not to leave them unattended at any time during 
 the day's march — but who cared for orders? 
 
 The trail here being easy and plain, the banks of the 
 streams cut by the previous caravan, Tom dropped back 
 after a brief exploration along the flanks, which he made 
 because the flankers would not, to join his partner and 
 their pack train, plodding along on the left-hand side of 
 Joe Cooper's wagons. 
 
 Hank was a placid, easy-going individual and cared 
 little whether or not he had company. For the last few 
 days he had been highly amused by watching several pack 
 animals owned and led by tenderfeet, who had learned 
 neither to follow them nor to load them right. These 
 green travelers were continually in trouble. If they were 
 not arguing with mules gone balky because of unevenly 
 distributed loads, or chasing some running and kicking 
 animal that scattered the contents of its pack far and 
 wide over the plain, they were collecting their possessions 
 piece-meal from a score of acres of prairie and hurriedly 
 re-packing somewhere behind the caravan, cursing, per- 
 spiring, out of breath, and murderously savage. Some 
 of them re-packed more than a dozen times a day and 
 were hard put even to keep the caravan in sight. Their 
 natural anger at their misfortunes was turned into a sim- 
 mering or a coruscating rage, that ever and anon burst 
 out with volcanic force as they realized the utter hope- 
 lessness of their position. This was for the first few 
 days, for the wiser ones used their eyes and ears and 
 mouths to good advantage, and soon got the knack of 
 
154 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 packing; but there were some who seemingly were too 
 dumb to learn. 
 
 Hank never obtruded any advice, but cheerfully ex- 
 plained the art of packing to any man who sought him. 
 He and his partner's animals never shifted a pack on this 
 smooth going, and this fact began to sink into some of 
 the tenderfeet, and they eagerly took lessons from the 
 veteran. It was not long before a spilled pack in that col- 
 umn of the train was an uncommon occurrence. These 
 eight mules behaved in an admirable manner and there 
 was a good reason for it. When they had been selected, 
 only those showing the unmistakable signs of the veteran 
 pack mule were chosen. The marks of the crupper, 
 aparejo and girth never would disappear. Tenderfeet 
 scornfully would have passed them by and chosen sleek, 
 smooth-haired animals of far better appearance; but 
 Hank and Tom did not make this mistake, realizing that 
 here, indeed, beauty was only skin deep. 
 
 Hank judged that it was about time to take full ad- 
 vantage of the mules' early training and the results were 
 regarded as downright miracles by the greenhorns, who 
 attempted to duplicate the system, but with disastrous 
 endings. One of the mules was an old mare, and her 
 actions, even in the corral at Independence, told Hank 
 all about her. He now took from a pack a bell and, 
 riding up to the plodding, sedate pack animal, fastened 
 it around her neck. Then he tied her to the rear of the 
 second of Cooper's big wagons, until she should learn 
 that this was to be her place under all conditions, and 
 dropped back farther and farther while he watched the 
 other seven. At the sound of the tinkling bell they had 
 pricked up their long ears and rolled them forward; a 
 
EN ROUTE 155 
 
 certain important dignity came over each one and they 
 went ahead with an air of satisfaction that was so appar- 
 ent that it was ludicrous. Hank grinned and rode off to 
 play rear guard all by himself, well knowing that his 
 seven animals would follow the old bell-mare wherever 
 she led, whether he was there or not. Later he rewarded 
 her by changing her pack and substituting that of the 
 dwindling food supply, which grew lighter after every 
 camp. When he finally freed her from the wagon she 
 moved up alongside the off -wheel mule, for whom she 
 seemed to have an abiding affection, and from then on 
 she would not stray from his side, nor her seven follow- 
 ers from her. 
 
 On this occasion when Tom returned and found his 
 partner absent, he surmised that the trapper was off look- 
 ing for an antelope to vary the monotony of their fare 
 and to save their bacon and flour. Until the buffalo 
 country was reached the caravan had to live on flour, 
 bacon, and perhaps beans, of which each traveler had 
 a limited supply. The chief reliance for food was the 
 buffalo, and their range was still well ahead. Tom and 
 Hank, however, not knowing what contingency awaited 
 them on the Mexican end of the trail, had far exceeded 
 the regular allowance per man, of fifty pounds of flour, 
 same of bacon, dozen pounds of coffee, twenty-five 
 pounds of sugar, and a goodly amount of salt. Topping 
 one of the packs, and dwarfing the patient mule nearly 
 hidden under the load, were two ten-gallon water casks, 
 each with a few quarts sloshing around inside. At every 
 stop these kegs were shifted a little so as to give each 
 portion of them a soaking in turn. The powder, two 
 twenty-five pound kegs covered with oiled cloth and over 
 
156 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 that with a heavy, greased bull-buffalo leather, were in 
 the same packs with the bar lead and a reserve supply 
 of caps and patches. The bullet molds, nipple wrenches, 
 and other small necessaries were carried in their " possi- 
 ble" sacks, each being a beautifully beaded and quilled 
 bag obtained in their trade with the Indians. Along with 
 the ammunition each had packed a buffalo-hide bag, fitted 
 with shoulder, breast, and head lines ; and should it be- 
 come necessary for them to disappear, without a mule, 
 they were equipped to remain in the mountains and hills 
 for a long time. Later on they would pack the big bags 
 and keep them ready for instant use. 
 
 Tom found not only that his partner had gone, but that 
 the city sports, tiring of aimless riding ahead, had fallen 
 back to the train and were now riding leg to leg on both 
 sides of Joe Cooper's small wagon, vying with each other 
 in their endeavors to be entertaining to Patience. They 
 were laughing uproariously when the plainsman appeared 
 and one of them, Dr. Whiting, acknowledged his intro- 
 duction to Tom with an ironical grin. Here, he thought, 
 was a mountain yokel all ripe to play target for his shafts 
 of satire. He would shine out resplendently against this 
 ignorant plainsman and have a lot of fun in the bargain. 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed, his mouth open in pretended 
 admiration. "Regular Daniel Boone I I suppose you 
 know how to bark squirrels ; and barking buffaloes must 
 be an old trick with you by this time." 
 
 Tom regarded him thoughtfully. He did not mind the 
 words, but the tone in which they were spoken was 
 distinctly offensive. He smiled pleasantly. " Thar ain't 
 no squirrels ter bark on th' prairies; but thar air some 
 barkin' prairie dogs, though they mostly chatter 'stead o' 
 
EN ROUTE 157 
 
 bark. They set up an' make a lot o' noise, but don't 
 amount to nothin'. Th' funny part o' it is, th' dumber 
 they air th' more they chatter. As fer bein' Dan'l 
 Boone, tenderfeet mostly find it a boon ter have a Dan'l 
 handy afore this air trail is left." He gravely acknowl- 
 edged the introduction to the others and looked at Pa- 
 tience again, and from her back to the saddled horse tied 
 to the rear of the wagon. " Feel like a little ride, Miss 
 Cooper " he asked. " Must be tirin' settin' up thar mile 
 arter mile listenin' to th' chatterin'." 
 
 She nodded, holding back her laughter, and Tom led 
 up the horse. 
 
 " But, Miss Cooper ! " expostulated the doctor. " What 
 are we going to do without you? We are desolate! 
 Might I offer you a noble escort, six trusty, knightly 
 blades to flash in your defense?" 
 
 She smiled sweetly but shook her head. "When we 
 reach the Indian country I will be very glad to accept 
 such an escort; but out here I would not think of im- 
 posing on your generosity. This seems to be Mr. Boyd's 
 expedition; perhaps he may invite you." 
 
 Tom shook his head sadly. " Reckon I'll have all I 
 kin do to look arter Miss Cooper in case we meets airy 
 Injuns, without botherin' with six Hashes. See you-all 
 later, mebby." 
 
 They drew rein and waited for the crawling column 
 to pass them, smiling and nodding in reply to the cheer- 
 ful salutations of the wagoners and traders. Pedro, the 
 slender Mexican, who took such a deep interest in the 
 doings of Tom Boyd, removed his wide hat and bowed, 
 in true cavalier fashion, showing his gleaming teeth in a 
 pearly smile. The interest the plainsman was showing in 
 
158 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 his pretty companion was an assurance that Tom Boyd 
 would need no further persuasion to enter the Mexican 
 settlements. Franklin, the leader of the third division, 
 temporarily the second section of Tom's column, allowed 
 himself the luxury of a sullen smile. He knew his part 
 in the scheme of Pedro and Schoolcraft perfectly and 
 had no thought of deviating from it, but he could not 
 help admiring the upstanding plainsman, who was a man 
 after his own heart. They were bound together by a 
 common interest, the safety of the caravan, and until 
 they were met by the escort of Mexican cavalry, some- 
 where near Rock Creek or the Canadian River, Franklin 
 gave little heed to personal grudges. All he was sup- 
 posed to do was to see that the plainsman did not leave 
 the caravan for good before the escort met it. 
 
 The two four-pounders trundled along their rumbling 
 way, only one man to each gun, the rest of their crews 
 off with the advance guard. Tom glanced at the all but 
 deserted weapons and frowned. Franklin, noticing it, 
 frowned in reply. It was not because full cannon crews 
 were needed on this part of the trail, but because both 
 men knew that it would be the same all the way. 
 
 After the last wagon had passed, Tom and his compan- 
 ion rode forth and turned when half a mile from the 
 column, riding ahead on a course parallel with it. The 
 prairie was studded with the earlier flowers of spring, 
 in some places a rich carpet of delicate colors. Suddenly 
 Tom pointed to a gray object nearly covered with earth, 
 dried grass of the year before, and the fresh greenery 
 of this season's slender blades pushing up through it. 
 
 "Buffalo skull," he explained. "Let's look at it; it 
 may tell us something interesting. " 
 
EN ROUTE 159 
 
 They rode close to it and the plainsman nodded in 
 quick understanding. 
 
 " That bull was killed by an Indian," he said. " Notice 
 that it faces the west? They place them that way to 
 propitiate their gods. A skull hardly lasts more than 
 three years on the prairie, which means that this animal 
 was killed about that long ago. It is more than likely 
 that he was an old, renegade bull, wandering far from 
 the herd to die alone. The significant fact is, however, 
 that not more than three years ago he grazed here and 
 was here killed by an Indian; coupled to that is anothef 
 significant fact, about one hundred thousand buffalo 
 skins are taken to the settlements every year. Remember- 
 ing both those facts and adding another, that it will be 
 some days before we see even such a bull on the very 
 outskirts of the buffalo range, what does it mean ? And 
 here is a fact I nearly overlooked; those hundred thou- 
 sand skins taken each year are from cow buffalo." He 
 shook his head sadly. " The day of the buffalo, countless 
 as their numbers still are, is fast setting. Their range is 
 shrinking hour by hour, almost; and a comparatively 
 few years more will see them gone. Wait till you witness 
 the brainless slaughter when the herds are met with. 
 Ah, well, we are a prodigal race, Miss Cooper, spending 
 our natural heritage with almost a drunken recklessness. 
 If it were drunken there might be found some excuse for 
 us ; but we are doing it in our sober senses. Excuse me, 
 when I get to thinking along those lines I'm afraid I get 
 a little fanatical. There's something more interesting," 
 he said, pointing to the north. " See it ? " 
 
 After a moment's intense scrutiny she shook her head, 
 and looked up at him inquiringly. 
 
i6o ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 "I forget that you haven't a plainsman's eyes," he 
 laughed, "accustomed to focussing for long distances. 
 Why, over there, well beyond that series of flat-topped 
 prairie swells, is a red handkerchief waving lazily in the 
 air. It is fastened to a ramrod, and I'm willing to bet 
 that it belongs to Hank Marshall. He has been grumbling 
 about a steady diet of bacon. Now that we are getting 
 into antelope country, his disappearance from his trained 
 mules is easily explained. I can promise you and Uncle 
 Joe antelope meat tonight. He never would have planted 
 that flag if he hadn't seen his victim; and while we are 
 a long way off, let's ride on so he won't be able to blame 
 us if he fails to get his shot." 
 
 Patience was laughing heartily, and hurriedly ex- 
 plained the cause of her mirth. 
 
 " I saw him tie the bell to that old mule's neck. The 
 sudden pride she showed, the quick alertness of the other 
 seven, and the satisfaction shared equally by the mules 
 and your partner was one of the most ludicrous sights 
 I've ever seen. When Uncle Joe, who was in his best 
 vein, explained the whole affair, I laughed until I cried. 
 Is it true that the seven worshipers won't leave her?" 
 
 Tom, laughing in sympathy with her mirth, nodded. 
 *' Picket her, with her bell on, and we can let the others 
 graze without hobbles or ropes. They won't leave her. 
 Don't ask me why, for if you do I can only answer 
 by saying that they have been trained that way; why it 
 is possible for them to be trained in such a way, and so 
 easily, is beyond me. When we left Independence Hank 
 and I caught many a scornful glance directed at our 
 ate jo, for I must confess that it was made up of eight 
 scarecrows ; but handsome is as handsome does, and now 
 
EN ROUTE 
 
 i6i 
 
 our pack train troubles are confined solely to packing 
 and unpacking the animals. We don't even have to 
 remember what pack or aparejo belongs to each mule; 
 they know their own unerringly, and will shower kicks 
 on any careless or stupid companion who blunders up to 
 the wrong pack. Perhaps you've heard that mules are 
 stupid; that's something that you can discount heavily. 
 They are stupid only when it serves their purpose." He 
 laughed again. " We have one mule that takes a thrash- 
 ing every morning, regular as a clock. Hank calls him 
 * Dummy,* but I am not sure that he is well named. I 
 can't decide whether he is dumb or perverse. But the 
 fact remains that he never selects his own pack, and gets 
 kicked along the line until he reaches it by elimination. 
 I shall enjoy studying him as we go along." 
 
 As they jogged on, a strip of timber running almost 
 at right angles to their course and thinning out to the 
 north in about the same proportion that it thickened to 
 the south, came in sight and Tom knew it to be Cotton- 
 wood Creek, and their last glimpse of the waters of the 
 Neosho. He well remembered the somewhat sharp bend 
 formed by it on the farther side, which was taken advan- 
 tage of by some caravans and the corral formation 
 ignored. A line of closely spaced wagons across the 
 neck of the bend made corral enough. 
 
 "Well, we better get back to the caravan," he said. 
 "While the creek is all right there are many who are 
 only waiting for a chance to cry that the officers are 
 remiss in their duties. I'll leave you with your uncle, 
 well guarded by six trusty knights, and go ahead with 
 the advance guard." 
 
 She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and 
 
i62 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 the repression of her smile did not seriously affect the 
 witchery of the dimples. 
 
 "I was a little afraid that I might become lonesome 
 on this long journey; but things have turned out splen- 
 didly. Don't you think Dr. Whiting has a very dis- 
 tinguished air?" 
 
 "Very; it would distinguish him out of hundreds," 
 replied Tom, scowling at the timber fringe ahead. ** He 
 is quite impressive when he is silent. It's a pity he 
 doesn't realize it." 
 
 He turned in the saddle and looked behind. "What 
 did I say? There comes Hank, with an antelope slung 
 before his saddle. I doubt if the doctor would need the 
 red handkerchief; antelope are notoriously affected by 
 anything curious." 
 
 She turned away and regarded the caravan studiously. 
 " Isn't every man expected to do his share in the general 
 duties ? " she asked. 
 
 "Yes; but most of them dodge obligations. When 
 we left Council Grove more than half of the members of 
 the train were friendly to Woodson. By the time we 
 leave Cimarron his friends will be counted on the fingers 
 of your two hands. That is only what he expects, so it 
 won't come as an unpleasant surprise. " 
 
 " What is the doctor's party supposed to do ? " 
 
 " Two of them have been assigned to the rear guard ; 
 the other four, to our right flank. They can be excused 
 somewhat because of their greenness. Besides, they only 
 came along for the fun of it. In the college of life they 
 are only freshmen. Its seriousness hasn't sunk in yet. 
 The majority of the shirkers should know better, and 
 have their fortunes, meagre as they may be, at stake. 
 
EN ROUTE 
 
 163 
 
 Well, here we are. You don't know how much I've 
 enjoyed our ride. Uncle Joe," he said as Patience set- 
 tled into the wagon seat, "here she is, safe and sound. 
 I'll drop around with some antelope meat by the time 
 you have your fire going." 
 
 "It's been ten years since I've broiled game over a 
 fire," chuckled the driver. " I'm anxious to get my hand 
 in again. Thank you, Tom." 
 
 Tom fastened the horse to the rear of the wagon, 
 waved to his friends, and loped ahead toward the nearing 
 creek. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 AFTER an enjoyable supper of antelope meat, Hank 
 Marshall drifted over to visit Zeb Houghton and 
 Jim Ogden, and judging from the hilarity resulting from 
 his call, it was very successful. The caravan was now 
 approaching the Indian country and was not very far 
 from the easternmost point where traders had experi- 
 enced Indian deviltry. Neither he nor his friends were 
 satisfied with the way guard was kept at night, and he 
 believed that a little example was worth a deal of pre- 
 cept. On his way back to his own part of the 
 encampment he dropped over to pay; a short visit to 
 some tender feet, two of whom were to mount guard that 
 night. Jim Ogden, sauntering past, discovered him and 
 wandered over to borrow a pipeful of tobacco. 
 
 " Wall," said Ogden, seating himself before the cheer- 
 ful fire, " 'twon't be long now afore we git inter buffaler 
 country, an' kin eat food as is food. Arter ye sink yer 
 teeth inter fat cow an' chaw a tongue or two, ye' 11 shore 
 forgit what settlement beef tastes like. That right. 
 Hank?" 
 
 " It's shore amazin' how much roast hump ribs a man 
 kin store away without feelin' it," replied Hank. " But 
 thar's alius one drawback ter gittin' inter th' buffaler 
 range ; whar ye find buffaler ye find Injuns, an' nobody 
 kin tell what an Injun's goin' ter do. If they only try ter 
 164 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 165 
 
 stampede yer critters yer gittin' off easy. Take a Pawnee 
 war-party, headin' fer th' Comanche or Kiowa country, 
 fer instance. Thar off fer ter steal hosses; but thar 
 primed ter fight. If thar strong enough a caravan'll 
 look good ter 'em. One thing ye want ter remember : if 
 th' Injuns ain't strong, don't ye pull trigger too quick; 
 as long as yer rifle's loaded thar'U be plumb respectful, 
 but soon's she's empty, look out." 
 
 "I've been expecting to see them before this," said 
 one of the hosts. 
 
 " Wall, from now on mebby ye won't have ter strain 
 yer eyes," Hank remarked. " They like these hyar timber 
 fringes, whar they kin sneak right up under yer nose. 
 They got one thing in thar favor, in attackin' at night; 
 th' twang o' a bow-string ain't heard very fur ; but onct 
 ye hear it ye'll never fergit th' sound. Ain't that so, 
 Jim?" 
 
 Jim nodded. " Fer one, I'm keepin' an eye open from 
 now on. Wall, reckon I'll be movin' on." 
 
 "Where do you expect to run into Indians?" asked 
 one of the men near the fire. 
 
 Jim paused, half turned and seemed to be reflecting. 
 " 'Most any time, now. Shore ter git signs o' 'em at 
 th' little Arkansas, couple o' days from now. May run 
 inter 'em at Turkey Creek, tomorrow night." 
 
 Hank arose, emptied his pipe, and looked at Jim. 
 "Jine ye, fur's our fire," he said, and the two friends 
 strolled away. They had not been gone long when two 
 shadowy figures met and stopped not far from the ten- 
 derfeet's fire, and held a low-voiced conversation, none 
 of which, however, was too low to be overheard at the 
 fire. 
 
i66 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 "How'd'y, Tom." 
 
 "How'd'y, Zeb." 
 
 "On watch ter night?" 
 
 "No; you?" 
 
 "No. Glad of it." 
 
 "Me, too." 
 
 "This is whar Taos Bill war sculped, ain't it?" 
 
 " They killed 'im but didn't git his ha'r." 
 
 " How'd it happen ? " 
 
 " Owl screeched an' a wolf howled. Bill snuk off ter 
 find out about it." 
 
 "Arrer pizened?" 
 
 " Yes ; usually air." 
 
 "Wharyegoin'?" 
 
 "Ter th' crick fer water." 
 
 "I'm goin' ter see th' capting. Good night." 
 
 " Good night ; wish it war good momin', Zeb." 
 
 "Me, too. Good night." 
 
 At that instant an owl screeched, the quavering, eerie 
 sound softened by distance. 
 
 "Hear that?" 
 
 The mournful sound of a wolf floated through the 
 little valley. 
 
 "An' that? Wolves don't generally answer owls, do 
 they?" 
 
 " Come along ter th' crick, Zeb. Thar ain't no tellin'." 
 
 "I'm with ye," and the two figures moved silently 
 away. 
 
 The silence around the camp-fire was profound and 
 reflective, but there was some squirming and surreptitious 
 examination of caps and flints. The questioning call of 
 the hoot owl was answered by a weird, uncanny, sue- 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 167 
 
 cession of sharp barks growing closer and faster, ending 
 in a mournful, high-pitched, long-drawn, quavering 
 howl. The noisy activity of the encampment became 
 momentarily slowed and then went on again. 
 
 The first guard came off duty with an apparent sense 
 of relief and grew very loquacious. One of them joined 
 the silent circle of tenderfeet around the blazing fire. 
 " Phew ! " he grunted as he sat down, " Hear those 
 calls?" His question remained unanswered, but he did 
 not seem surprised. " When you go on, Doc? " he asked. 
 " One o'clock," answered Dr. Whiting. He looked 
 around pityingly. "Calls?" he sneered. "Don't you 
 know an owl or a wolf when you hear one ? " There was 
 a lack of sincerity in his voice which could not be dis^ 
 guised. The doctor was like the boy who whistled when 
 going through the woods. 
 
 Midnight came and went, and half an hour later the 
 corporal of the next watch rooted out his men and led 
 them off to relieve the present guard. He cautioned them 
 again against standing up. 
 
 "To a Injun's eyes a man standin' up on th' prairie is 
 as plain as Chimbly Rock," he asserted. " Besides, ye 
 kin see a hull lot better if yer eyes air clost ter th' 
 ground, lookin' agin' th' horizon. Don't git narvous, an' 
 don't throw th' camp inter a scare about nothin'." 
 
 An hour later an owl hooted very close to Dr. Whiting 
 and he sprang to his feet. As he did so he heard the 
 remarkably well imitated twang of a bow-string, and his 
 imagination supplied his own interpretation to the sound 
 passing his ear. Before he could collect his panic- 
 stricken senses he was seized from behind and a moment 
 later, bound with rawhide and gagged with buckskin. 
 
i68 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 he lay on his back. A rough hand seized his hair at 
 the same instant that something cold touched his scalp. 
 At that moment his attacker sneezed, and a rough, tense 
 voice growled a challenge from the darkness behind him. 
 
 " Who's thar ? " called Tom Boyd, the clicking of his 
 rifle hammers sharp and ominous. 
 
 The hand clutching the doctor's hair released it and 
 the action was followed by a soft and hurried movement 
 through the woods. 
 
 "Who's thar?" came the low growl again, as Tom 
 crept into the bound man's range of vision and peered 
 into the blackness of the woods. Waiting a moment, 
 the plainsman muttered something about being mistaken, 
 and departed silently. 
 
 After an agony of suspense, the bound man heard the 
 approach of another figure, and soon the corporal of his 
 guard stopped near him and swore vengefully under his 
 breath as his soft query brought no answer. 
 
 " Cuss him," growled Ogden, angrily. " He's snuk 
 back ter camp. I'll peg his pelt out ter dry, come day- 
 light." He moved forward to continue his round of 
 inspection and stumbled over the doctor's prostrate form. 
 In a flash the corporal's knife was at the doctor's throat. 
 "Who air ye?" he demanded fiercely The throaty, 
 jumbled growls and gurgles which answered him ap- 
 prised him of the situation, and he lost no time in 
 removing the gag and cutting the thongs which bound 
 the sentry. " Thar, now," he said in a whisper. " Tell 
 me about it." 
 
 The doctor's account was vivid and earnest and one of 
 his hands was pressed convulsively against his scalp as 
 if he feared it would leave him. 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 169 
 
 Ogden heard him through patiently, grunting affirma- 
 tively from time to time. "Jest what I told th' boys," 
 he commented. " Wall, I reckon they war scared away. 
 Couldn't 'a' been many, or they'd 'a' rushed us. It 
 war a scatterin' bunch o' bucks, lookin' fer a easy sculp, 
 or a chanct ter stampede th' animals. Thievin' Pawnees, 
 I reckon. Mebby they'll come back ag'in: we'll wait 
 right hyar fer 'em, dang thar eyes." 
 
 "Ain't you going to alarm the camp?" incredulously 
 demanded the doctor, having hard work to keep his 
 teeth from chattering. 
 
 "What in tarnation fer? Jest 'cause a couple o' 
 young bucks nigh got yer h'ar? Hell, no; we'll wait 
 right hyar an' git 'em if they come back." 
 
 "Do you think they will?" asked the doctor, trying 
 to sound fierce and eager. 
 
 "Can't never tell what a Injun'll do. They left ye 
 tied up, an' mebby want yer h'ar plumb bad. Reckon 
 mebby I ought ter go 'round an' warn th' rest o' th' boys 
 ter keep thar eyes peeled an' look sharp fer 'em ; 'specially 
 them nigh th' animals. Bet ye stood up when ye heard 
 
 " Yes, I did ; but I'll never do it again ! " 
 " Thought so. Now you lay low out hyar till I tells th' 
 others. Be back soon," and before any reply could be 
 made the corporal had become swallowed up in the night. 
 The weather was not warm, yet Doctor Whiting sweat 
 copiously, and after he had been relieved and sent back 
 to the encampment he had great trouble in falling 
 asleep. 
 
 Hank Marshall slipped up behind Jim Ogden as that 
 person came in, and imitated the significant twang. Jim 
 
I70 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 jumped a foot in the air and then bent over, convulsed 
 with silent laughter. 
 
 " Dang ye, Hank ; I don't know how ye do it ! " he 
 exclaimed. " I never heard th' like. Thar'll be one bunch 
 o* greenhorns lyin' flat, an' all eyes an' ears from now on. 
 I war weak from laughin' afore I went out to stumble 
 over him. When th' guard war changed they couldn't 
 hardly find him, he war spread out so flat. Jest like a 
 new born buffaler calf that its maw has cached in a 
 bunch o' grass. Bet ye could fool an Injun with that 
 thar twang." 
 
 " I've did it," said Hank, chuckling. 
 
 The next morning Dr. Whiting was quite a hero, and 
 as the caravan left the creek he rode by the side of 
 Patience, talking until he had thoroughly exhausted the 
 subject. After he had left her to go helter-skeltering 
 over the prairie a mile ahead in eager and hopeful search 
 of buffalo. Hank Marshall rode up to the wagon and took 
 his place. 
 
 He listened to Patience's excited comment about the 
 doctor's narrow escape, and then, picking up the reins, 
 twanged sharply, winked at her, and rode off to the flank- 
 ing line. She stared after him for a moment and then 
 stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. When she had 
 command over herself again she turned indignantly 
 toward her chuckling uncle. 
 
 " Just the same, it was a mean trick ! " she declared. 
 
 " Giddap," said Uncle Joe, and chuckled all the more. 
 
 " But it was ! " 
 
 " It learned 'em all a lesson," he replied. " May save 
 their fool lives, and ours, too. Giddap! " 
 
 It was a long haul to Turkey Creek, but the caravan 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 171 
 
 made it and was corralled before dark. Buffalo signs 
 had been seen shortly before the creek was reached, and 
 when old Indian signs were found near the camp site, 
 the day's excitement took on new life. A broken lodge- 
 pole, some odds and ends of tanned hides and a discarded 
 moccasin, somehow overlooked by the Indians' dogs, 
 were discovered near the blackened spots on the prairie 
 where camp-fires had burned. The night passed quietly, 
 every sentry flat against the earth and trying to rob the 
 senses of smell and touch to enrich those of sight and 
 hearing. 
 
 In leaving the creek, the two column formation was 
 abandoned and the wagons rolled up the little divide in 
 four evenly spaced divisions. There was some semblance 
 of flankers and a rear guard now, and even the cannons 
 were not forsaken. Then came the great moment. 
 
 Two hours after the creek had been left the first herd 
 of buffalo was sighted. That it was a small one and 
 more likely to provide tough bull rather than fat cow, 
 made no difference; rear guard, flankers, and cannon 
 were forgotten in one mad, frantic, and ridiculous rush. 
 Men dashed off toward the herd without even their 
 pistols. In ten minutes a moderate sized war-party 
 could have swept down on the caravan and had things 
 nearly their own way. There would have been no buffalo 
 meat in camp that night except that the experienced 
 hunters with the advance guard managed to down two 
 cows and three bulls before the yelling, excitement-mad- 
 dened crowd stampeded the little herd and drove it all 
 over the prairie. 
 
 One tenderfoot, better mounted than his fellows, man- 
 aged to keep up with a running bull, firing ball after ball 
 
V72 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 into it as fast as he could re-load. He was learning that 
 a bull-buffalo was a hard animal to kill, and when it 
 finally wheeled and charged him, he also learned that it 
 was willing to fight when goaded and made desperate 
 with wounds. Another greenhorn, to get better aim, 
 dismounted and knelt on the earth. With the roar of 
 his gun his horse, with all its trappings, gave one snort 
 and ran away, joining the herd and running with it. It 
 was an hour before anyone had time to listen to his 
 entreaties, and then it was too late to go after the run- 
 away animal. He hoofed it back to the caravan, an 
 angry but wiser man, and was promptly robbed by the 
 man from whom he bought a horse. 
 
 It was an open question whether buffalo tongue or 
 beaver tail was the better eating, but no one in the 
 caravan had any fault to find with the portions of buffalo 
 meat which fell to their lot. Despite the toughness and 
 tastelessness of the old bull meat, it was the first fresh 
 meat they had enjoyed since leaving Independence, with 
 the exception of the few who had shared in Hank's 
 antelope, and its poor qualities were overlooked. No one 
 had a chance to gorge himself and to learn that over- 
 eating of buffalo flesh causes no distress. They found the 
 meat with the fat and lean more intermixed, juicier, and 
 of a coarser grain than beef. The choice bits were from 
 the tongue, the udder came next in merit, followed by 
 the hump-ribs, tenderloins, and marrow bones. They 
 were fortunate in the selection of the bulls which had 
 been killed, for they were quite fat and in this condition 
 ran the cow meat a close race ; all but one old bull, which 
 was tough and stringy beyond belief. Despite the fact 
 that the next camp spot was not very far ahead, the 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 173 
 
 caravan nooned on the open prairie for the cooking of 
 the fresh meat. 
 
 The captain signalled for the four-square corral and 
 the evolution was creditably performed. The animals 
 were unhitched and staked outside the enclosure and 
 soon many fires were burning around the encampment 
 and the savory odors of broiling buffalo meat arose on 
 all sides. Coffee pots steeped or boiled at every fire, for 
 coffee was the one unstinted drink of the caravan. It 
 was not long before the encampment was surrounded by 
 groups seated around the fires, most of the men eating 
 with their fingers, Indian fashion, and from the universal 
 satisfaction shown it was evident that buffalo meat had 
 been given a high place by every palate. In contrast to 
 a steady diet of bacon it was a feast fit for epicures. 
 The travelers cared little about their good fortune in 
 finding cows with the first small herd, instead of the 
 usual vanguard or outpost of bulls, for the cows had 
 been there and they had obtained two of them. Two 
 hours later the caravan was moving again, and late that 
 afternoon reached the Little Arkansas, where the first 
 trouble with a treacherous river bed was experienced. 
 
 Knowing what was in store for them, the captain and 
 his lieutenants went ahead with a force of workers to 
 cut a way through the steep banks and to bridge the 
 muddy bed. They found that the banjcs had been cut 
 by the preceding caravan, but the causeway by now was 
 useless, except as a foundation for a new one. The 
 stream was not very wide, but made up for that by the 
 meanness of its bottom. The trees and brush along the 
 banks provided material for the temporary causeway 
 and it did not take long to build up a "bridge." 
 
174 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The more or less easy-going manner of the captain 
 changed here and his commands had a snap to them that 
 should have given them an unquestioned weight. Be- 
 cause of the restricted space chosen for the camp, the 
 circular corral was formed, and as the divisions reached 
 and crossed the causeway they fell in behind the last 
 wagon of the one ahead and crawled around until the 
 circle was complete and compact. All animals were to 
 be staked outside the circle until twilight and then driven 
 inside and hobbled for the night. Care was taken to see 
 that there were but few gaps between the wagons and 
 tliat those were securely closed by chains. 
 
 The length of the first tour of guard duty was in- 
 creased considerably, for the first watch went on as soon 
 as the wagons stopped. They were getting fairly into 
 the Indian country now. Directly north of them lay the 
 range of the Pawnees; to the west of that the home of 
 the Cheyennes; directly west of the Little Arkansas 
 roamed the Arapahoes, and to the southwest were the 
 Kiowas and Comanches, both of the latter superb caval- 
 rymen. The last three tribes were being stirred by 
 jealous New Mexicans to harass the caravans. And the 
 interest of all these tribes, and of others beyond them 
 in several directions, was centered on the prairie between 
 the Little Arkansas and the valley of the Arkansas, 
 eastward from where the latter river left the mountains. 
 This was the great range of the buffalo, and the buffalo 
 was food, clothing, habitation, and figured very largely 
 in other necessaries of the savage tribes. 
 
 The peculiar, curving, and ever-shifting migration of 
 the great herds was followed by hunting parties, which 
 became war-parties in a wink. Many were the blobdy 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 175 
 
 battles fought between the tribes on that stretch of 
 prairie between the Little Arkansas and the two Coon 
 Creeks. The Pawnees claimed sovereignty over that 
 part of the country around Pawnee Rock, but it was one 
 that the tribe did not dare to enjoy with any degree of 
 permanence. Raiding parties from the south, west, and 
 north constantly challenged their 'title, and because of 
 these collisions hardly a hunting party dared show itself 
 unless in strength. There were, it is true, small bands 
 roaming the plains, especially after dark, which traveled 
 on foot; but these were out with the avowed and set 
 purpose of stealing horses, on which, if successful, they 
 made their escape and rode home. This especially was 
 ^ Pawnee trick, and especially adept were the Pawnees 
 in creeping up to a herd of draft animals and stampeding 
 the whole bunch. More than one party of traders had 
 thus been left afoot in mid-prairie and forced to abandon 
 what they could not carry on their backs. While the 
 Pawnee country was supposed to be north of the Platte, 
 up around the Loup Fork, they often raided in force 
 well into the Comanche and Apache country and were 
 as much at home on the south side of the Arkansas River 
 as on any other part of the plains. 
 
 When the orders came to drive the animals inside the 
 corral and hobble them, there was a great deal of com- 
 plaint. It was contended that they could not get food 
 enough in such a restricted space, crowded as it would 
 be with horses, oxen, and mules; that they would injure 
 each other ; that there would be great trouble in each man 
 getting his own in the morning; that they would burst 
 through some weak spot and wander away during the 
 night. To all these objections the captain remained 
 
176 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 obdurate. Any man who left his animals outside the cor- 
 ral and lost them would not be given replacements at the 
 expense of other teams, and could make what shift he 
 thought best for the transportation of his merchandise. 
 
 Tom and his trapper friends, with some of the more 
 experienced traders, went among the grumblers and la- 
 bored with them, preaching that from now on the utmost, 
 unremitting vigilance would be necessary day and night, 
 for the danger of losing the animals would grow with 
 every mile and would not cease until the Mexican settle- 
 ments were nearly in sight. And the worse the weather 
 was, the greater would be the need to be alert; for with 
 tumultuous Nature to arouse the excitability of the ani- 
 mals and to mask the movements of the Indians, a savage 
 raid would scarcely fail to cause a wholesale stampede 
 unless the strictest watch was maintained. To make up 
 for the poor grazing inside the corralled wagons, the 
 picketing outside the circle in the evening would be sup- 
 plemented by more grazing on the outside before leaving 
 in the morning. This would necessitate later starts, but 
 it could not be avoided. 
 
 Tom and Hank were not quite through eating their 
 evening meal when Pedro paid them a visit. 
 
 "Ah, senores," he beamed, "I haf laughed thees day! 
 Just like my Mexico eet was to see thee ate jo that you 
 haf ! Thee mulera weeth her seven childr-ren mar-rching 
 behind her like soldats!" He leaned back and laughed 
 heartily, his teeth gleaming like old ivory. 
 
 Hank grinned and glanced at Tom. "If she'd only 
 lead 'em 'round th' customs we'd think a hull lot more 
 o' her. It riles me ter have ter pay ter git our goods 
 inter a town arter such hard work gittin' 'em to it." 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 177 
 
 " Ah," replied Pedro, smiling broadly. " That ees thee 
 law," he reproved them. "But I deed not know you 
 were going to Santa Fe, senores. Eet was said some- 
 where, by somebody, I do not remember who, that you 
 were going to thee Sefior Bent on thee Arkansas. To 
 hunt and to tr-rap, was eet not ? " 
 
 Tom emptied his pipe and blew through the stem, 
 "No," he said. "We're goin' ter Santa Fe. After we 
 sell th' goods we aim ter go up ter Bent's for th' fall an* 
 winter huntin' an' trappin'. Takes a lot o' money ter 
 outfit two men th' way they should be, fer a hull season 
 in the mountains." He grinned. "That's why we're 
 packin' goods ter Santa Fe. Got to raise some money." 
 Arising he nodded to his guest. " Now, if ye'll excuse 
 me, friend, I'll leave ye with Hank. See ye later, 
 mebby?" 
 
 Pedro nodded and laughed heartily, wagging an ac- 
 cusing finger at the young plainsman. " Ah, what should 
 keep a br-rave cahallero from sooch a sefiorita! Pedro 
 has eyes, sefior; an' Pedro, he weesh you ver' mucho 
 luck. He weesh you so ver' mucho luck that per-rhaps he 
 can get you past those customs. Of thees we weel talk 
 more, eh?" 
 
 Hank slapped his leg and pushed his plug of tobacco 
 into the visitor's hands. "Smoke some of that thar 
 Virginny, friend," he urged. " Ye'll find it some better 
 than that thar husk, or wilier bark you people smoke." 
 He looked at his partner and chuckled. "These hyar 
 young fellers, now; thar jest ain't no holdin' 'em." 
 
 Pedro thought that this particular young " feller " was 
 going to be held very securely before he saw Santa Fe, 
 but he grinned and waved his hand, and after Tom had 
 
'178 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 disappeared among the wagons he turned toward the 
 hunter. 
 
 " Has Sefior Boyd ever been een our Santa Fe ? " he 
 asked in polite curiosity. 
 
 Hank nodded carelessly. "He war thar some years 
 back." 
 
 "Perhaps then I can show heem a new way to thee 
 city," said Pedro, significantly. " One that my br-rother 
 knows ver' good. Thee knowledge of thees tr-rail ees 
 of mucho less cost than thee customs that you an' me like 
 so leetle. But of thees we weel talk more some other 
 time. I must leeve you, seiior. Adios." 
 
 "Adios, senor," beamed Hank, again offering the 
 plug. 
 
 After a quiet night and a somewhat later start than 
 usual, the day's run to Cow Creek began, and not five 
 miles from the camp site a sizable herd of buffalo was 
 sighted. The same thing took place again, the same con- 
 fusion, the same senseless chasing without weapons, but 
 this time there was added the total abandonment of sev- 
 eral wagons while the drivers, unhitching one animal, 
 grabbed guns and joined in the attack, not realizing that 
 mules hardly were suited for chasing an animal which, 
 clumsy as it appeared, nearly equalled a horse in speed 
 when once started on its awkward gallop. But in the 
 results of the chase there was one noticeable difference 
 between this and the previous hunt, for the green nim- 
 rods had asked questions of the hunters since their first 
 try at the prairie cattle, and they had cherished the an- 
 swers. They no longer fired blindly, after the first flush 
 of their excitement died down, for now they ranged up 
 alongside their lumbering victims from the rear and 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 179 
 
 aimed a little behind the short ribs, or a few inches above 
 the brisket and behind the shoulder. And this hunt was 
 a great success from the standpoint of the plainsmen wha 
 had bought Colt's new-fangled repeating pistols, for they 
 proved their deadliness in such capable hands, and 
 speeded up the kill. 
 
 A group of tender feet watched an old hunter butcher 
 a fat cow in almost the time it takes to tell of it, slitting 
 the skin along the spine from the shoulder to the tail, 
 and down in front of the shoulder and around the neck. 
 He removed it as far down as the brisket and laid the 
 freed skin on the ground to receive the fleece from along 
 the spine, the protruding hump ribs, which he severed 
 with a tomahawk; and then he added the liver, tongue^ 
 kidneys, certain parts of the intestine, and one shoulder. 
 Severing the other shoulder and cutting the skin free on 
 both sides of the body, he bundled up the choice cuts in 
 it, carried it to his horse and returned to camp. In a 
 few moments the butchering became general, and soon the 
 triumphant hunters returned to the wagons with fresh 
 meat enough to provide an unstinted feast for the entire 
 caravan. 
 
 The journey was resumed and the twenty miles to Cow 
 Creek was made in good time. Here the difficulties of 
 the Little Arkansas were again met and conquered and 
 the wagons corralled before dark. 
 
 It was at this camp that Tom and Hank became certain 
 that they were being spied upon by Pedro and his com- 
 panions. Seated around their fire, smoking with deep 
 content after a heavy meal of fresh buffalo meat, Hank 
 began to push his foot back and forth on the ground, 
 making deeper and deeper, longer and longer, the groove 
 
l8o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 his moccasin heel was slowly wearing in the soft earth. 
 Finally his foot touched his companion's knee but, with- 
 out pausing, kept wearing down the groove. 
 
 " Th' geese went over early this year," he said, looking 
 up at the starry sky. " Reckon we'll have th' hot weather 
 a leetle ahead o' time on th' Dry Route." 
 
 Tom did not change a muscle as the familiar, warning 
 sentence struck his ears. "Yes," he replied. "Be glad 
 when I gits inter Santa Fe, with th' cool mountains all 
 around. Reckon you'll spend most o' your time playin' 
 monte, an' be clean busted when it's time ter hit th' trail 
 fer Bent's." 
 
 Hank laughed softly. " Did I hear ye say Jim Ogden 
 had some good likker ? " he asked. 
 
 "That's what I said." 
 
 " 'Tain't none o' that thar Taos lightnin' ? " skeptically 
 inquired Hank. 
 
 "How could it be, him jest a-comin' from Missouri?" 
 
 " Wall," chuckled Hank, slowly rising. " Reckon I'll 
 wander over an' see fer myself. Jim must be consider- 
 able lonesome, 'bout now." 
 
 " Must be, with only Zeb, Alonzo, Enoch, and a passel 
 o' them fool tenderfeet a-settin' 'round his fire," snorted 
 Tom. "Go ahead an' git yer likker; I'll wait fer ye 
 hyar." 
 
 It was only a few minutes later when Hank returned, 
 shaking his head. "All gone," he mourned, and sat 
 down again, regarding the dying embers. "Jest my luck." 
 
 Tom laughed. " Yer better off without it," he replied, 
 and communed with his thoughts. 
 
 Minutes passed in reflective silence and then Jim Ogden 
 loomed up beside them. "Come on over," he invited. 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 i8i 
 
 grinning. "Thar warn't no use showin' a bottle with 
 them thirsty greenhorns settin' 'round ter lick it up. 
 Now that thar gone, we'll pass it 'round." 
 
 Hank looked knowingly at his partner as he hastily 
 arose, and the three went off together. When half way 
 to the other fire Jim spoke in a low voice. 
 
 " He war thar. Hank ; layin' in that little gully, watch- 
 in' ye like ye war pizen." He turned to Tom. " Shall we 
 go an' drag him out ? " 
 
 " No," answered Tom. " Let him think we don't know 
 nothin' about it. Him an' his trail inter Santa Fe! 
 Reckons mebby that if them barefoot soldiers try ter take 
 us in front o' th' caravan they'll get a good lickin' ; but 
 if he can coax us oif from th' rest, he kin run us inter 
 an ambush. If thar's airy way inter Santa Fe that we 
 don't know, I'm danged if he knows it ! Let him spy on 
 us, now that we know he's doin' it. Thankee, Jim." 
 
 By the time they had reached Jim's little fire a figure 
 was wriggling down the gully, and at an opportune time 
 arose to hands and knees and scurried to the shelter of 
 Franklin's wagons, a smile on its face. Now it was cer- 
 tain that Tom Boyd was going through to Santa Fe, and 
 all would be well. He chuckled as he recalled what he 
 had said about the Mexican troops not meeting the cara- 
 van until Point of Rocks was reached; they would meet 
 the train at any point his messenger told them to. 
 
 At Cow Creek another quiet night was followed by 
 another delayed start and shortly after noon the van- 
 guard raised a shout of elation, which sent every mounted 
 man racing ahead; and the sight repaid them for their 
 haste. 
 
 Under their eyes lay the Arkansas River, dotted with 
 
i82 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 green islands, its channel four or five hundred yards 
 wide, and so shallow that at normal stage it was formid- 
 able at many points. While its low, barren banks, only 
 occasionally tinted with the green of cottonwoods, were 
 desolate in appearance, they had a beauty peculiar and 
 striking. As far as the eye could see spread the sand- 
 hills and hillocks, like waves of some pale sea, here white 
 and there yellow, accordingly as to how the light was 
 reflected from them. Its appearance had been abrupt, the 
 prairie floor rising slightly to the crumbling edge, below 
 which and at some distance flowed the river, here form- 
 ing the international boundary between Texas and the 
 United States. While territorially Texas lay across the 
 river, according to Texan claims, actually, so far as 
 supervision was concerned, it was Mexico, for the Texan 
 arm was yet too short to dominate it and the ordinary 
 traveler let it keep its original name. 
 
 While its northern bank was almost destitute of timber, 
 the southern one showed scattered clumps of cottonwood, 
 protected from the devastating prairie fires from the 
 North not only by the river itself, but also by the barren 
 stretch of sand, over which the fires died from starvation. 
 To the right of the caravan lay the grassy, green rolls 
 of the prairie, to an imaginative eye resembling the long 
 swells of some great sea; on the left a ribbon of pale 
 tints, from gleaming whites to light golds which varied 
 with the depths of the water and the height and position 
 of the sun. Massive sand dunes, glittering in the sun- 
 light made a rampart which stretched for miles up and 
 down the river and struck the eye with the actinic power 
 of pure, drifted snow. Here the nature of the prairie 
 changed, losing its rich, luxuriant verdure, for here the 
 
INDFAN COUNTRY i8^ 
 
 short buffalo grass began to dominate to a noticeable 
 extent. 
 
 The excitement spread. Eager couriers raced back to 
 the plodding caravan to tell the news. Some of the more 
 impressionable forthwith rode toward the river, only a 
 few yards away, hot to be the first to splash in its waters ; 
 but they found that prairie air was deceptive and that 
 the journey over the rolling hillocks was a great deal 
 longer than they had thought. But a few miles meant 
 nothing to them and they pushed on, careless of 
 Comanche, Kiowa, or Pawnee Picts, some with their guns 
 empty from the salute they had fired at sight of the 
 stream. The caravan kept stolidly on, following a course 
 roughly paralleling the river and not stopping until 
 evening found it on the far side of Walnut Creek after 
 they had crossed a belt of such poor grass that they had 
 grave doubts about the pasturage at the encampment; 
 and the flinty, uncompromising nature of the ground 
 down the slope of the little divide, in which seemingly 
 for eternity was graven the strands of the mighty trail, 
 seemed to justify their fears. But then, while they were 
 worrying the most, the grass improved and when they 
 had crossed the creek not far from its mouth they found 
 themselves in a little, timber-fringed valley thick with 
 tall grass. And they now had entered one of the great 
 danger spots of the long trail. 
 
 Hank Marshall got his fire started in a hurry while 
 his partner looked after the pack mules; and when Tom 
 came back to attend to the fire and prepare the supper. 
 Hank dug into his "possible" sack and produced some 
 line and a fish hook. Making a paste of flour, he mixed 
 it with sonie dried moss he had put away and saved for 
 
i84 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 this use. Rolling the little doughballs and hardening 
 them over the fire he soon strode off up the creek, looking 
 wise but saying nothing; and a quarter of an hour later 
 he returned with three big catfish, one of which he ate 
 after he had consumed a generous portion of buffalo 
 hump-ribs; and he followed the fish by a large tongue 
 raked out of the ashes of the fire. To judge from his 
 expression he had enjoyed a successful and highly grati- 
 fying day, and since he was heavy and drowsy with his 
 gorging and had to go on watch that night, he rolled up 
 in his blanket under a wagon and despite the noise on 
 all sides of him, fell instantly asleep. He had "set 
 hisself" to awaken at eleven o'clock, which he 
 would do almost on the minute and be thoroughly wide 
 awake. 
 
 Fearing for the alertness of the sentries that night, a 
 number of plainsmen and older traders agreed upon 
 doing duty out of their turns and followed Hank's exam- 
 ple, "settin"' themselves to awaken at different hours; 
 and despite these precautions had a band of Pawnees 
 discovered the camp that night they most certainly would 
 have been blessed with success; and no one understood 
 why the camp had not been discovered, for the crawling 
 train made a mark on the prairie that could not be missed 
 by savage eyes miles away. 
 
 Because of the height and the luxuriance of the grass 
 within the corral the morning feeding, beyond the time 
 needed for getting ready to leave, was dispensed with 
 and the train got off to an early start, fairly embarked 
 on the eastern part of the great buffalo range and a sec- 
 tion of the trail where Indians could be looked for in 
 formidable numbers. 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 185 
 
 This great plain fairly was crowded with bison and 
 was dark with them as far as the eye could see. They 
 could be numbered by the tens of thousands and actually 
 impeded the progress of the caravan and threatened con- 
 stant danger from their blind, unreasoning stampedes 
 which the draft animals seemed anxious to join. Be- 
 cause of the matted hair in front of their eyes their vision 
 was impaired; and the keenness of their scent often 
 hurled them into dangers which a clearer eyesight would 
 have avoided. So great did this danger become shortly 
 after the train had left the valley of the Walnut that 
 the rear guard, which had grown slightly as the days 
 passed, now was sent out to protect the flanks and to 
 strengthen the vanguard, which had fallen back within 
 a few hundred feet of the leading wagons. Time after 
 time the stupid beasts barely were kept from crashing 
 blindly into the train, and the wagoners had the most 
 trying and tiring day of the whole journey. 
 
 Several bands of Indians at times were seen in the 
 distance pursuing their fleeing game, but all were appar- 
 ently too busy to bother with the caravan, which they 
 knew would stop somewhere for the night. No longer 
 was there any need to freight buffalo meat to the wag- 
 ons; for so many of the animals were killed directly 
 ahead that the wagoners only had to check their teams 
 and help each other butcher and load. This constant 
 stopping, now one wagon and now another, threw the 
 train out of all semblance of order and it wandered along 
 the trail with its divisions mixed, which caused the sweat 
 to stand out on the worried captain's forehead. His 
 lieutenants threatened and swore and pleaded and at 
 last, after the wagons had all they could carry of the 
 
i86 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 meat, managed to get four passable divisions in some- 
 what presentable order. 
 
 While the caravan shuffled itself, chased buffalo out of 
 the way, turned aside thundering ranks of the formid- 
 able-looking beasts, and had a time hectic enough to suit 
 the.most irrational. Pawnee Rock loomed steadily higher, 
 steadily nearer, and the great sand-hills of the Arkansas 
 stretched interminably into the West, each fantastic top a 
 glare of dazzling light. 
 
 Well to the North, rising by degrees out of the prairie 
 floor, and gradually growing higher and bolder as they 
 neared the trail and the river, were a series of hills which 
 terminated abruptly in a rocky cliff frowning down upon 
 the rutted wagon road. From the distance the mirage 
 magnified the ascending hills until they looked like some 
 detached mountain range, which instead of growing 
 higher as it was approached, shrunk instead. It was a 
 famous landmark, silent witness of many bloody strug- 
 gles, as famous on this trail as was Chimney Rock and 
 Courthouse Rock along the great emigrant trail going up 
 the Platte; but compared to them in height it was a 
 dwarf. Here was a lofty perch from which the eagle 
 eyes of Indian sentries could descry crawling caravans 
 and pack trains, in either direction, hours before they 
 reached the shadow of the rocky pile; and from where 
 their calling smoke signals could be seen for miles 
 around. 
 
 Two trails passed it, one east and west; the other, 
 north and south. The former, cut deep, honest in its 
 purpose and plainness, here crossed the latter, which 
 was an evanescent, furtive trail, as befits a pathway to 
 theft and bloodshed, and one made by shadowy raiders 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 187 
 
 as they flitted to and from the Kiowa-Comanche country 
 and the Pawnee-Cheyenne; only marked at intervals by 
 the dragging ends of the lodgepoles of peacefully mi- 
 grating Indian villages, and even then pregnant with dan- 
 ger. Other eyes than those of the prairie tribes had 
 looked upon it, other blood had been spilled there, for 
 distant as it was from the Apaches, and still more distant 
 from the country of the Utes, war parties of both these 
 tribes had accepted the gage of battle there flung down. 
 On the rugged face of the rock itself human conceit had 
 graven human names, and to be precise as to the date of 
 their foolishness, had added day, month, and year. 
 
 While speaking of days, months, and years it may not 
 be amiss to say that regarding the latter division of time 
 the caravan was fortunate. Troubles between Indians 
 and whites developed slowly during the history of the 
 Trail, from the earlier days of the fur trains and the first 
 of the traders' caravans, when Indian troubles were 
 hardly more than an occasional attempted theft, in many 
 cases successful, but seemingly without that lust for blood 
 on both sides which was to come later. After the wagon 
 period begun there was a slight increase, due to the need 
 which certain white men found for shooting game. If 
 game were scarce, what could be more interesting when 
 secure from retaliation by the number of armed and 
 resolute men in the caravans, than to pot-shoot some 
 curious and friendly savage, or gallantly put to flight a 
 handful of them? The ungrateful savages remembered 
 these pleasantries and were prone to retaliate, which 
 caused the death of quite a few honest and innocent 
 whites who followed later. The natural cupidity of the 
 Indian for horses, his standard of wealth, received a 
 
i88 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 secondary urge, which later became the principal one, 
 in the days when theft was regarded as a material re- 
 ward for killing. While they may have grudged these 
 periodic crossings of the plains as a trespass, and the 
 wanton slaughter of their main food supply as a con- 
 stantly-growing calamity, they still were keener to steal 
 quietly and get away without bloodshed, and to barter 
 their dried meat, their dressed hides, their beadwork, and 
 other manufactures of their busy squaws than to engage 
 in pitched battle at sight. Had Captain Woodson led a 
 caravan along that same trail twenty or thirty years later, 
 he would have had good reason to sweat copiously at 
 the sight of so many dashing savages. 
 
 The captain knew the Indian of his day as well as a 
 white man could. He knew that they still depended upon 
 trading with the fur companies, with free trappers and 
 free traders, and needed the white man's goods and 
 good will; they wanted his trinkets, his tobacco to mix 
 with their inner bark of the red willow; his powder, 
 muskets, and lead, and, most of all, his watered alcohol. 
 He knew that a white man could stumble into the average 
 Indian camp and receive food and shelter, especially 
 among those tribes not yet prostituted by contact with 
 the frontier; that such a man's goods would be safe and, 
 if he minded his own business, that he would be sent on 
 his way again unharmed. But he also knew their lust for 
 horses and mules; he felt their slowly growing feeling 
 of contempt for men who would trade them wonderful 
 things for worthless beaver, mink, and otter skins; and 
 a fortune in trade goods for the pelt of a single silver 
 fox, which neither was warmer nor more durable than 
 the pelt of other foxes. And he knew the panicky feel- 
 
INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 189 
 
 ing of self-preservation which might cause some green- 
 horn of the caravan to shoot true at the wrong time. 
 So, without worrying about any "deadly circles" or 
 about any period of time a score or more years away, 
 he sweat right heartily. And when at last he drew near 
 to Ash Creek, the later history of which mercifully was 
 spared him, he sighed with relief but worked with the 
 energy befitting a man who believed that God helped 
 those who helped themselves; he hustled the caravan 
 down the slope and across the stream with a speed not 
 to be lightly scorned when the disorganized arrangement 
 of the train is considered ; and he halted the divisions in 
 a circular formation with great dispatch, making it the 
 most compact and solid wall of wagons seen so far on 
 the journey. 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AT THIS Ash Creek camp before the wagoners had 
 , unhitched their teams there was a cordon around 
 the corral made up of every man who could be spared, 
 and the cannon crews stood silently around their freshly 
 primed guns. The air of tenseness and expectancy 
 pleased Woodson, for it was an assurance that there 
 would be no laxity about this night's watch. With the 
 animals staked as close to the wagons as practicable, 
 which caused some encroachments and several fist fights 
 between jealous wagoners, the fires soon were cooking 
 supper for squads of men from the sentry line; and as 
 soon as all had eaten and the camp was not distracted by 
 too many duties, the cordon thinned until it was composed 
 of a double watch. Before dusk the animals were driven 
 inside, secured by side-line hobbles, which are much more 
 effective than hobbling the forelegs, and all gaps were 
 closed as tightly as possible. 
 
 The evening shadows darkened and ran into blackness ; 
 the night wind crept among the branches of the thin line 
 of trees on both banks of the creek and made soft sough- 
 ings in the tall, thick grass; overhead the sky first dark- 
 ened and then grew lighter, shot with myriads of stars, 
 which gleamed as only prairie stars can ; and among them, 
 luminous and bright, lay the Milky Way. The creek 
 murmured in musical tones as it fretted at some slight 
 
PAWNEES igi 
 
 obstruction and all nature seemed to be at peace. Then 
 sounded the howl of a buffalo wolf, the gray killer of 
 the plains, deep, throaty, full, and followed by a quick 
 slide up the scale with a ringing note that the bluffs and 
 mountains love to toss back and forth. Yet it was some- 
 how different. Woodson and his trapper aides, seated 
 together against a wagon, stirred and glanced sidewise 
 at each other. Not one of them had felt the reflex an- 
 swer of his spine and hair; not one of them had thrilled. 
 A simple lack; but a most enlightening one. 
 
 Franklin bit into a plug of tobacco, pushed the mouth- 
 ful into his cheek with deft tongue, and crossed his legs 
 the other way. " Hell ! " he growled. " Reckon we're 
 in fer it." 
 
 "They jest can't git it all in, kin they?" commented 
 Zeb Houghton, coming up. 
 
 " No," answered Tom Boyd. " They leave out th' best 
 part o' it." He glanced in the direction of the nearest 
 fringe of trees, noisy cottonwoods all, and shook his 
 head. "We been havin' too fine a stretch o' weather. 
 Hear them trees ? In two hours it'll be blowin' hard ; an* 
 I kin feel th' rain already." 
 
 From the blackness of the creek there arose a series 
 of short, sharp barks, faster and faster, higher and 
 higher, the lost-soul howl climbing to a pitch that was 
 sheer torture to some ears. 
 
 "Kiyote sassin' a gray," chuckled Zeb, ironically. 
 
 " * Upon what meat hath — ' " t)egan Tom, and checked 
 the quotation. " He oughter be ti\ckin' his tail atween his 
 laigs an' streakin' fer th' Platte ; or mebby he missed 
 somethin', too," he said. " Everylhin' else shuts up when 
 th' gray wolf howls." 
 
192 BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 " Doubled watches air not enough f er tonight," 
 growled Woodson, as a tremulous, high-pitched, chro- 
 matic, and descending run in a minor key floated through 
 the little valley. If it were an imitation of a screech-owl 
 it was so perfectly done that no man in the caravan could 
 detect the difference. 
 
 "Us boys will be scoutin' 'round all night," replied 
 Tom. " Hank an' th' others air gittin' some winks now. 
 I don't look fer no fight afore daylight; but they'll shore 
 try ter stampede us afore then. Reckon I'll take a good 
 listen out yonder," he said, and arose. He went to Joe 
 Cooper's little wagon and was promptly challenged. 
 
 "It's Boyd," he answered. "Stick to the wagon. 
 Uncle Joe. We ain't looking for any rush before day- 
 light. If one comes Hank and I will get here quick. 
 Where is Miss Cooper?" 
 
 " In th' wagon, of course ! " 
 
 "That's no place for her," retorted Tom. "Those 
 sheets won't stop arrows. Put her under the wagon, an' 
 hang blankets down th' sides, loose at th' bottoms. Tight 
 blankets or canvas are little better than paper ; but a loose 
 Mackinaw yields to th' impact somewhat. I've seen a 
 loose blanket stop a musket ball." 
 
 "Can I do anything useful, Mr. Boyd?" came Pa- 
 tience's voice from the wagon. "I can load and cap, 
 anyhow." 
 
 Tom's chuckle came straight from his heart. " Not 
 yet, God bless you. Despite their reputation in some 
 quarters, Pawnees are not the most daring fighters. Any 
 of the tribes east of the Mississippi are paragons of cour- 
 age when compared to these prairie Indians. Pawnees 
 y\rould rather steal than fight; and they know that this is no 
 
PAWNEES 193 
 
 helpless caravan, but one with nearly two hundred armed 
 men. If they were Comanches or Kiowas, Utes or 
 Apaches, I'd be bothered a lot more than I am now. And 
 they know that there are two cannons pointing some- 
 where into the night. All we have to worry about is 
 our animals." 
 
 The mournful, hair-raising screech of an owl sounded 
 again, and then all the demons of hell seemed to have 
 broken loose around the camp. The corralled animals, 
 restless before, now surged one way and now another, 
 largely cancelling their own efforts because wave met 
 wave; but all the while they were getting wilder and 
 more frantic and the blood-chilling yells on all sides 
 finally set them into a sort of rhythm which more and 
 more became uniform. They surged from one side to 
 the other, striking the wagons harder and harder. Then 
 the yelling ceased and the Pawnee whistle was heard. 
 There ensued a few minutes of silence and then the 
 whistle sounded again. It set off a hellish uproar on one 
 side of the encampment and the frantic animals whirled 
 and charged in the other direction. The shock rocked 
 some of the wagons and would have overturned them but 
 for the great weight of their loads. Anticipating this 
 surge of the animals some of the traders, told off by the 
 captain, had bound bundles of twigs and dried grass 
 to long Cottonwood sticks and now set them afire 
 and crawled under the wagons, thrusting the torches 
 into the faces of the charging mass. This started the 
 animals milling and soon the whole herd was running 
 in a circle. The stampede had failed. 
 
 Here and there from under the wagons on the threati 
 ened side of the encampment guns stabbed into the nighty 
 
194 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 showing where tenderfeet were gallantly engaged in 
 guessing matches. Arrows curved over the wagon tops 
 and some of the torch wavers on the other side of the 
 camp had narrow escapes before their purpose was ac- 
 complished and the torches burned out. 
 
 A cricket chirped twice and then twice again not far 
 from Joe Cooper's little wagon, and the alert plainsman 
 crouched behind an outer wheel answered by three short 
 trills. "Don't shoot, Uncle Joe," Tom softly called. 
 "That's Hank." 
 
 Hank seemed to be having a hard time of it and made 
 more noise than was his wont. Alarmed, Tom was about 
 to crawl out and help his friend to the corral when 
 Hank's querulous complaint barely reached him. 
 
 " Danged if ye ain't so plumb full o' buffaler meat ye 
 nigh weigh a ton," growled the hunter. "Youm as 
 heavy as mine, Jim?" 
 
 " Wuss," complacently answered Ogden. 
 
 " Huh !" snorted another voice, crowding so much 
 meaning into the grunt that he had the best of the little 
 exchange and the last word. 
 
 " If I could twang like you. Hank," said Ogden, pausr- 
 ing a moment to rest, " I'd have a hull dozen, danged if 
 I wouldn't. Mine's got nigh ter six feet o' feathers a- 
 hangin' ter him." 
 
 Tom rocked back and forth, laughing silently. " Then 
 he makes up fer th' rest o' yer dozen!" he gasped. 
 "Hostages, by th' Great Horned Spoon!" He made 
 some funny noises in his throat and gasped again. "A 
 chief, too ! " 
 
 "An' a plumb waste o' good ha'r," growled Hank. 
 ** But jest now it's wuth more on thar heads than fas- 
 
PAWNEES 195 
 
 tened ter our belts. Hyar, haul this hyar warrior o' 
 mine under th' waggin. I'm all tuckered out." 
 
 "Hank kin shoot more arrers with his mouth than 
 some Injuns kin with thar bows," panted Jim, grasping 
 a spoke and yanking his captive roughly against the 
 wheel. "All I kin imitate is a lance." He chuckled at 
 his joke and rested. 
 
 "When Hank twanged, Big Polecat, hyar, got right 
 up an' stumbled plumb over me," said Zeb's weary voice. 
 "I near busted his skull with that newfangled pistol. 
 It's heftier than I'm used ter. Wonder is I didn't bash 
 his brains out. Hyar, gimme a hand, I can't hardly 
 wiggle no more." 
 
 "Wonder what them danged fools air firin' at?" 
 queried Hank, as several shots rang out in quick suc- 
 cession from the other side of the encampment. " Don't 
 they know th' dance is over till mornin' ? " 
 
 "Oh, them greenhorns'll be shootin' all night," 
 growled Ogden. " If thar's a rush at daylight they won't 
 have no more powder an' ball. When they hadn't 
 oughter shoot, they shoot ; when they oughter shoot, thar 
 too danged scared to pull trigger." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HURRAH FOR TEXAS 
 
 AT DAYLIGHT the only Indians in sight were sev- 
 jTjL eral rifle shots from the caravan, but encircling it. 
 Hostilities of every nature apparently had ceased, but 
 without causing the travelers to relax in their vigilance. 
 Breakfast was over before the savages made any move 
 and then a sizable body of them came charging over the 
 prairie, brandishing their weapons and yelling at the 
 top of their voices. While not the equals of the Co- 
 manches in horsemanship they were good riders and as 
 they raced toward the encampment, showing every trick 
 they knew, the spectacle was well worth watching. 
 
 " Showin' off," said Jim Ogden. " Want ter talk with 
 us. Now we got ter stop them fool greenhorns from 
 shootin' ! " 
 
 At his warning his companions ran along the line of 
 wagons and begged that not a shot be fired until the 
 captain gave the word. If the Indians wanted a parley 
 the best thing would be to give it to them. 
 
 Meanwhile the captain and two experienced men rode 
 slowly forward, stopping while still within rifle shot of 
 their friends. The charging savages pulled up suddenly 
 and stopped, three of their number riding ahead with 
 the same unconcern and calm dignity as the white men 
 had shown. One of them raised a hand, palm out, and 
 •when well outside of the range of the rifles of the en- 
 196 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 197 
 
 campment, stopped and waited. Captain Woodson, rais- 
 ing his hand, led his two companions at a slow walk 
 toward the waiting Indians and when he stopped, the two 
 little parties were within easy speaking distance of each 
 other. Each group was careful to show neither distrust 
 nor fear, and apparently neither was armed. Erect in 
 their saddles, each waited for the other to speak. 
 
 " My young men are angry because the white men and 
 their wagons have crossed the Pawnee country and have 
 frightened away the buffalo," said the leader of the 
 warriors, a chief, through an interpreter. 
 
 "The buffalo are like the grass of the prairies," replied 
 Woodson. " They are all around us and are bold enough 
 to charge our wagons on the march and frighten our ani- 
 mals." 
 
 " From the Loup Fork to the Arkansas, from the Big 
 Muddy to the great mountains, is Pawnee country, which 
 none dare enter." 
 
 " The Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, the Osages, and other 
 brave tribes tell us the same thing. We do not know 
 what tribe owns this prairie ; but we do know that friends 
 are always welcome in the Pawnee country, and we bring 
 presents for our brave brothers, presents of beads and 
 colored cloth and glasses that show a man his spirit." 
 
 "The white chief speaks well; but my braves are 
 angry." 
 
 "And my young men are angry because they could 
 not sleep and their animals were frightened like the 
 Comanches are frightened by the Pawnees," replied 
 Woodson. " They are hot-headed and are angry at me 
 because I would not let them make war on our friends, 
 the Pawnees." 
 
198 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ** The young men of the Pawnees have not the wisdom 
 of years and did not know the white men were friends» 
 and had brought them presents of horses and powder and 
 whiskey." 
 
 "I have told my young men that the Pawnees are 
 friends. We did not think we would meet our red 
 brothers and have horses only for ourselves. Our whiskey 
 and powder are for the great Pawnee chiefs; our beads 
 and cloth for their young men." 
 
 "It is well," replied the chief. After a moment's 
 silence he looked keenly into Woodson's eyes. "The 
 Pawnees are sad. White Bear and two of our young 
 men have not returned to their people." His eyes flashed 
 and a tenseness seized him and his companions. " Great 
 Eagle wants to know if his white friends have seen 
 them?" 
 
 " Great Eagle's friends found three brave Pawnees in 
 front of their thunder guns and they feared our young 
 men would fire the great medicine rifles and hurt the 
 Pawnees. We sent out and brought White Bear and 
 his warriors to our camp and treated them as welcome 
 guests. Each of them shall have a horse and a musket, 
 with powder and ball, that they will not misunderstand 
 our roughness." 
 
 At that moment yells broke out on all sides of the en- 
 campment and warriors were seen dashing west along 
 the trail. A well-armed caravan of twenty-two wagons 
 crawled toward the creek, and Woodson secretly exulted. 
 It was the annual fur caravan from Bent's Fort to the 
 Missouri settlements and every member of it was an 
 experienced man. 
 
 The fur train did not seem to be greatly excited by 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 
 
 199 
 
 the charging horde, for it only interposed a line of 
 mounted men between the wagons and the savages. The 
 two leaders wheeled and rode slowly off to meet the In- 
 dians and soon a second parley was taking place. After 
 a little time the fur caravan, which had moved steadily 
 ahead, reached the encampment and swiftly formed on 
 one side of it. With the coming of this re-enforcement 
 of picked men all danger of war ceased. 
 
 Before noon the Pawnee chiefs and some of the elder 
 warriors had paid their visit, received their presents, sold 
 a few horses to wagoners who had jaded animals and 
 then returned to their camp, pitched along the banks of 
 the creek a short distance away. The afternoon was 
 spent in visiting between the two encampments and the 
 night in alert vigilance. At dawn the animals were 
 turned out to graze under a strong guard and before 
 noon the caravan was on its way again, its rear guard 
 and flankers doubled in strength. 
 
 Shortly after leaving Ash Creek they came to great 
 sections of the prairie where the buffalo grass was 
 cropped as short as though a herd of sheep had crossed 
 it. It marked the grazing ground of the more compact 
 buffalo herds. The next creek was Pawnee Fork, but 
 since it lay only six miles from the last stopping place, 
 and because it was wise to put a greater distance be- 
 tween them and the Pawnees, the caravan crossed it close 
 to where it emptied into the Arkansas, the trail circling at 
 the double bend of the creek and crossing it twice. Great 
 care was needed to keep the wagons from upsetting here, 
 but it was put behind without accident and the night was 
 spent on the open prairie not far from Little Coon Creek. 
 
 The fuel question was now solved and while the buf- 
 
200 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 falo chips, plentiful all around them, made execrable, 
 smudgy fires in wet weather if they would burn at all, in 
 dry weather they gave a quick, hot fire excellent to cook 
 on and one which threw out more heat, with equal 
 amounts of fuel, than one of wood; and after an amusr- 
 ing activity in collecting the chips the entire camp was 
 soon girdled by glowing fires. 
 
 The next day saw them nooning at the last named 
 creek, and before nightfall they had crossed Big Coon. 
 Creek. For the last score of miles they had found such 
 numbers of rattlesnakes that the reptiles became a nui- 
 sance ; but notwithstanding this they camped here for the 
 night, which was made more or less exciting because 
 several snakes sought warmth in the blankets of some of 
 the travelers. It is not a pleasant feeling to wake up 
 and find a three-foot prairie rattlesnake coiled up against 
 one's stomach. Fortunately there were no casualties 
 among the travelers but, needless to say, there was very 
 little sleep. 
 
 Next came the lower crossing of the Arkansas, where 
 there was some wrangling about the choice of fords,, 
 many, fearing the seasonal rise of the river, which they 
 thought was due almost any minute, urged that it be 
 crossed here, despite the scarcity of water, and the heavy 
 pulling among the sandhills on the other side. 
 
 Woodson and the more experienced traders and 
 hunters preferred to chance the rise, even at the cost of a 
 few days' delay, and to cross at the upper ford. This 
 would give them better roads, plenty of water and grass, 
 a safer ford and a shorter drive across the desert-like 
 plain between the Arkansas and the Cimarron. Event- 
 ually he had his way and after spending the night at 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 201 
 
 the older ford the caravan went on again along the north 
 bank of the river, and reached The Caches in time to 
 camp near them. The grass-covered pits were a curiosity 
 and the story of how Baird and Chambers had been 
 forced to dig them to cache their goods twenty years be- 
 fore, found many interested listeners. 
 
 All this day a heavy rain had poured down, letting up 
 only for a few minutes in the late afternoon, and again 
 falling all night with increased volume. With it came 
 one of those prairie windstorms which have made the 
 weather of the plains famous. Tents and wagon covers 
 were whipped into fringes, several of them being torn 
 loose and blown away; two lightly loaded wagons were 
 overturned, and altogether the night was the most miser- 
 able of any experienced so far. While the inexperienced 
 grumbled and swore, Woodson was pleased, for in spite 
 of the delayed crossing of the river, he knew that the 
 dreaded Dry Route beyond Cimarron Crossing would 
 be a pleasant stretch in comparison to what it usually 
 was. 
 
 Morning found a dispirited camp, and no effort was 
 made to get under way until it was too late to cover the 
 twenty miles to the Cimarron Crossing that day, and 
 rather than camp without water it was decided to lose a 
 day here. It would be necessary to wait for the river 
 to fall again before they would dare to attempt the 
 crossing and the time might as well be spent here as far- 
 ther on. The rain fell again that night and all the fol- 
 lowing day, but the wind was moderate. The river was 
 being watched closely and it was found that it had risen 
 four feet since they reached The Caches; but this was 
 nothing unusual, for, like most prairie streams, the Ar- 
 
202 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 kansas rose quickly until its low banks were overflowed, 
 when the loss of volume by the flooding of so much 
 country checked it appreciably; and its fall, once the 
 rains ceased, would be as rapid. High water was not 
 the only consideration in regard to the fording of the 
 river, for the soft bottom, disturbed by the strong cur- 
 rent, soon lost what little firmness it had along this part 
 of the great bend, and became treacherous with quick- 
 sand. That it was not true quicksand made but little 
 difference so long as it mired teams and wagons. 
 
 Another argument now was begun. There were sev- 
 eral fords of the Arkansas between this point and the 
 mountains; and there were two routes from here on, 
 the shorter way across the dry plain of the Cimarron, as 
 direct as any unsurveyed trail could be, and the longer, 
 more roundabout way leading another hundred miles 
 farther up the river and crossing it not far from Bent's 
 Fort, over a pebbly and splendid ford. From here it 
 turned south along the divide between Apishara Creek 
 and the Purgatoire River, climbed over the mountain 
 range through Raton Pass, and joined the more direct 
 trail near Santa Clara Spring under the shadow of the 
 Wagon Mound. Beside the ford above Bent's Fort there 
 was another, about thirty miles above The Caches, which 
 crossed the river near Chouteau's Island. 
 
 Each ford and each way had its adherents, but after 
 great argument and wrangling the Dry Route was de^ 
 cided upon, its friends not only proving the wisdom of 
 taking the shorter route, but also claimed that the un- 
 pleasantness of the miles of dry traveling was no worse 
 than the rough and perilous road over Raton Pass, where 
 almost any kind of an accident could happen to a wagon 
 
( 
 
 I 
 
 HURRAH FOR TEXAS 203) 
 
 and where, if the caravan were attacked by Utes or 
 Apaches before it reached the mountain pasture near the 
 top, they would be caught in a strung-out condition and 
 corralHng would be impossible. The danger from, a 
 possible ambush and from rocks rolled down from above, 
 in themselves, were worse than the desert stretch of the 
 shorter route. 
 
 At last dawn broke with a clear sky, and with praise- 
 worthy speed the routine of the camp was rushed and 
 the wagons were heading westward again. Late that 
 afternoon the four divisions became two and rolled down 
 the slope toward the Cimarron Crossing, going into camp 
 within a short distance of the rushing river. The sun 
 had shone all day and the night promised to be clear, 
 and some of the traders whose goods had been wetted by 
 the storm at The Caches when their wagon covers had 
 been damaged or blown away, took quick advantage of 
 the good weather to spread their merchandise over sev- 
 eral acres of sand and stubby brush to dry out thor- 
 oughly; and the four days spent here, waiting for the 
 river to fall, accomplished the work satisfactorily, al- 
 though at times the sky was overcast and threatened rain, 
 while the nights were damp. 
 
 Some of the more impetuous travelers urged that time 
 would be saved if bullboats were made by stretching 
 buffalo hides over the wagon boxes and floating them 
 across. This had been done more than once, but with 
 only a day or so to wait, and no pressing need for speed, 
 the time saved would not be worth the hard work and 
 the risk of such ferrying. At last the repeated sound- 
 ings of the bottom began to look favorable and word was 
 passed around that the crossing would take place as soon 
 
204 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 as the camp was ready to be left the next morning, pro- 
 viding that no rain fell during the night. 
 
 Daylight showed a bright sky and a little lower level 
 of the river and it was not long before the first wagon 
 drawn by four full teams, after a warming-up drive, 
 rumbled down the bank and hit the water with a splash. 
 The bottom was still too soft to take things easy in 
 crossing and the teams were not allowed to pause after 
 once they had entered the water. A moment's stop might 
 mire both teams and wagons and cause no end of trouble, 
 hard work, and delay. All day long the wagons crossed 
 and at night they were safely corralled on the farther 
 bank, on the edge of the Dry Route and no longer on 
 United States soil. 
 
 That evening the leaders of the divisions went among 
 their followers and urged that in the morning every 
 water cask and container available for holding water be 
 filled. This flat, monotonous, dry plain might require 
 three days to cross and every drop of water would be 
 precious. Should any be found after the recent rains it 
 would be in buffalo wallows and more fit for animals 
 than for human beings. Again in the morning the warn- 
 ing was carried to every person in the camp and the need 
 for heeding it gravely emphasized ; and when the caravan 
 started on the laborious and treacherous journey across 
 the fringe of sand-hills and hillocks which extended for 
 five or six miles beyond the river, where upsetting of 
 wagons was by no means an exception, half a dozen 
 wagons had empty water casks. Their owners had been 
 too busy doing inconsequential things to think of obeying 
 the orders for a "water scrape," given for their own 
 good. 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 205 
 
 The outlying hilly fringe of sand was not as bad as had 
 been expected for the heavy rains had wetted it well and 
 packed the sand somewhat ; but when the great flat plain 
 was reached and the rough belt left behind, two wagons 
 had been overturned and held up the whole caravan while 
 they were unloaded, righted, and re-packed. Since no one 
 had been injured the misfortunes had been taken lightly 
 and the columns went on again in good spirits. 
 
 It was not yet noon when the advance guard came 
 upon an unusual sight. The plain was torn and scored 
 and covered with sheepskin saddle-pads, broken riding 
 gear, battered and discarded fire-locks of so ancient a 
 vintage that it were doubtful whether they would be as 
 dangerous to an enemy as they might be to their owners ; 
 broken lances, bows and arrows, torn clothing, a two- 
 wheeled cart overturned and partly burned, and half a 
 score dead mules and horses. 
 
 Captain Woodson looked from the strewed ground, 
 around the faces of his companions. 
 
 "Injuns an' greasers?" he asked, glancing at the re- 
 mains of the carreta in explanation of the " greaser " end 
 of the couplet. The replies were affirmative in nature 
 until Tom Boyd, looking fixedly at one remnant of cloth- 
 ing, swept it from the ground and regarded it in amaze- 
 ment. Without a word he passed it on to Hank, who 
 eyed it knowingly and sent it along. 
 
 "I'm bettin' th' Texans licked 'em good," growled 
 Tom. "It's about time somebody paid 'em fer that 
 
 t damnable, two thousand mile trail o' sufferin' an' death ! 
 Wish I'd had a hand in this fight!" 
 Assenting murmurs came from the hunters and trap- 
 
2o6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 trigger with the wearers of the coats with the Lone Star 
 buttons. 
 
 Tom shook his head after a moment's reflection- 
 ** Hope it war reg'lar greaser troops an' not poor devils 
 pressed inter service. That's th' worst o' takin' re- 
 venge ; ye Hkely take it out o' th' hides of them that ain't 
 to blame, an' th' guilty dogs ain't hurt." 
 
 "Mebby Salezar war leadin' 'em!" growled Hank. 
 "Hope so!" 
 
 "Hope not!" snapped Tom, his eyes glinting. "/ 
 want Salezar ! I want him in my two hands, with plenty 
 o' time an' nobody around! I'd as soon have him as 
 Armijo!" 
 
 "Who's he?" asked a tenderfoot. "And what about 
 the Texans, and this fight here ? " 
 
 "He's the greaser cur that had charge o' th' Texan 
 prisoners from Santa Fe to El Paso, where they war 
 turned over to a gentleman an' a Christian," answered 
 Tom, his face tense. " I owe him f er th' death, by starva- 
 tion an' abuse, of as good a friend as any man ever had : 
 an' if T git my hands on him he'll pay fer it ! That's who 
 he ^'s!" 
 
 The first day's travel across the dry stretch, notwith- 
 standing the start had been later than was hoped for, 
 rolled off more than twenty miles of the flat, monotonous 
 plain. Even here the grama grass was not entirely miss- 
 ing, and a nooning of two hours was taken to let the 
 animals crop as much of it as they could find. While the 
 caravan was now getting onto the fringe of the Kiowa 
 and Comanche country, trouble with these tribes, at this 
 time of the year, was not expected until the Cimarron 
 was reached and for this reason the urging for mileage 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 2^ 
 
 was allowed to keep the wagons moving until dark. 
 During the night the wagoners arose several times to 
 change the picket stakes of their animals, hoping by this 
 and by lengthened ropes to make up for the scantiness 
 of the grass. In one other way was the sparsity of the 
 grazing partly made up, for the grama grass was a con- 
 centrated food, its small seed capsules reputed to contain 
 a nourishment approaching that of oats of the same size. 
 
 The heat of the day had been oppressive and the con- 
 tents of the water casks were showing the effects of it. 
 The feather-headed or stubborn know-it-alls who had ig- 
 nored the call of " water scrape " back on the bank of the 
 Arkansas now were humble pilgrims begging for drinks 
 from their more provident companions. Tom and Hank 
 had filled their ten-gallon casks and put them in Joe 
 Cooper's wagons for the use of his and their animals 
 which, being mules, found a dry journey less trying than 
 the heavy-footed oxen of other teams. The mules also 
 showed an ability far beyond their horned draft fellows 
 in picking up sufficient food; they also were free from 
 the foot troubles which now began to be shown by the 
 oxen. The triumphant wagoners of the muddier portions 
 of the trail, whose oxen had caused them to exult by the 
 way they had out-pulled the mules in every mire, now 
 became thoughtful and lost their levity. 
 
 Breakfast was cooked and eaten before daylight and 
 the wagons were strung out in the four column forma- 
 tion before dawn streaked the sky. A few buffalo wal- 
 lows, half full of water from the recent rains, relieved 
 the situation, and the thirsty animals emptied their 
 slightly alkaline contents to the last obtainable drop. This 
 second day found the plain more barren, more desolate. 
 
,^o8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 its flat floor apparently interminable, and the second 
 night camp was not made until after dark, the wagons 
 corralling by the aid of candle lanterns slung from their 
 rear axles. It was a silent camp, lacking laughter and 
 high-pitched voices; and the begging water seekers, while 
 not denied their drinks, were received with a sullenness 
 which was eloquent. One of them was moved to com- 
 plain querulously to Tom Boyd of the treatment he had 
 received at one wagon, and forthwith learned a few facts 
 about himself and his kind. 
 
 " Look hyar," drawled Tom in his best frontier dialect 
 ^*If I war runnin' this caravan yer tongue would be 
 -hangin' out fer th' want o' a drink. You war warned, 
 fair an' squar, back on th' Arkansas, ter carry all th' 
 water ye could. But ye knew it all, jest like ye know it 
 all every time a better man gives ye an order. If it 
 warn't fer yer kind th' Injuns along th' trail would be 
 friendly. Hyar, let me tell ye somethin' : 
 
 "We been follerin', day after day, a plain trail, so 
 plain that even you could foller it. But thar was a time 
 when thar warn't no trail, but jest an unmarked plain, 
 without a landmark, level as it is now, all 'round fur's 
 th' eye could reach. Thar warn't much knowed about it 
 years ago, an' sometimes a caravan wandered 'round out 
 hyar, its water gone an' th' men an' animals slowly 
 •dyin' fer a drink. Some said go this way, some said to 
 go that way ; others, other ways. Nobody knowed which 
 war right, an' so they went every-which way, addin' mile 
 to mile in thar wanderin'. Then they blindly stumbled 
 enter th' Cimarron, which they had ter do if they fol- 
 lered thar compasses an' kept on goin' south; an' when 
 they got thar they found it dry ! Do ye understand that ? 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 209 
 
 They found th' river dry! Jest a river bed o' sand, mile 
 after mile, dry as a bone. 
 
 "Which way should they go? It warn't a question 
 then, o' headin' fer Santa Fe; but o' headin' any way 
 a-tall ter git ter th' nearest water. If they went down 
 they was as bad off as if they went up, fer th' bed war 
 dry fer miles either way in a dry season. Sufferin? 
 Hell! you don't know what sufferin' is! A few o* 
 you fools air thirsty, but yer beggin' gits ye water. 
 Suppose thar warn't no water a-tall in th' hull caravan, 
 fer men, wimmin, children, or animals ? Suppose ye war 
 so thirsty that you'd drink what ye found in th' innards 
 o' some ol' buffalo yer war lucky enough ter kill, an' near 
 commit murder ter git f urst chanct at it ? That war done 
 onct. Don't ye let me hear ye bellerin' about bein' 
 thirsty ! Suppose we all had done like you, back thar on 
 th' Arkansas? An' don't ye come ter us fer water! If 
 we had bar'ls o' it, we'd pour it out under yer nose afore 
 we'd give ye a mouthful ! Yer larnin' some lessons this 
 hyar trip, but yer larnin' 'em too late. Go 'bout yer 
 business an' think things over. We're comin' ter bad 
 Injun country. If ye got airy sense a-tall in yer chuckle 
 head ye'll mebby have a chanct ter show it." 
 
 Before noon on the third day, after crossing more 
 broken country which was cut up with many dry washes 
 through which the wagons wallowed in imminent danger 
 of being wrecked, the caravan came to the Cimarron, and 
 found it dry. Cries of consternation broke out on all 
 sides, and were followed by dogmatic denials that it 
 was the Cimarron. The arguments waged hotly be- 
 tween those who were making their first trip and the 
 more experienced traders. Who ever heard of a dry 
 
2IO "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 river? This was only another dry wash, wider and 
 longer, but only a wash. The Cimarron lay beyond. 
 Here ensued the most, serious of all the disagreements, 
 for a large number of the members of the caravans 
 scoffed when told that by following the plain wagon 
 tracks they would soon reach the lower spring of the 
 Cimarron. How could the spring be found when this 
 was not the Cimarron River at all? They knew that 
 when Woodson had been elected at Council Grove that 
 he was not fitted to take charge of the caravan; that his 
 officers were incompetent, and now they were sure of it. 
 Anyone with sense could see that this was no river. If it 
 were a river, then the prairie-dog mounds they had just 
 passed were mountains. Here was a situation which 
 needed more than tact, for if the doubting minority was 
 allowed to follow their inclinations they might find a 
 terrible death at the end of their wanderings. Dogmatic 
 and pugnacious, almost hysterical in their repeated de- 
 termination to go on and find the river, they must be 
 saved, by force if necessary, from themselves. They 
 would not listen to the plea that they go on a few miles 
 and let the spring prove them to be wrong; there was no 
 spring to be found in a few miles if it was located on 
 the Cimarron. Woodson and others argued, begged, and 
 at last threatened. They pointed out that they were 
 familiar with every foot of the trail from one end to 
 the other; that they had made the journey year after 
 year, spring and fall ; that here was the deeply cut trail, 
 pointing out the way to water, where other wagons had 
 rolled before them, following the plain and unequivocal 
 tracks. The debate was growing noisier and more heated 
 when Tom stepped forward and raised his hand. 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 211 
 
 "Listen!" he shouted again and again, and at last 
 was given a grudged hearing. "Let's prove this ques- 
 tion, for it's a mighty serious one," he cried. "Last 
 year, where th' trail hit th' Cimarron, which had some 
 water in it then, a team of mules, frantic from thirst, 
 ran away with a Dearborn carriage as the driver was 
 getting out. When we came up with them we found 
 one of them with a broken leg, struggling in the wreck- 
 age of the carriage. I have not been out of your sight 
 all morning, and if I tell you where to find that wrecked 
 carriage, and you do find it, you'll know that I'm tellin' 
 th' truth, an' that this is th' Cimarron. Go along this 
 bank, about four hundred yards, an' you'll find a steep- 
 walled ravine some thirty feet higher than th' bed of th' 
 river. At th' bottom of it, a hundred yards from th' 
 river bank, you'll find what's left of th' Dearborn. When 
 you come back we'll show you how to relieve your thirst 
 and to get enough water to let you risk goin' on to th' 
 spring." 
 
 Sneers and ridicule replied to him, but a skeptical 
 crowd, led by the man he had lectured the night before, 
 followed his suggestion and soon returned with the word 
 that the wrecked carriage had been found just where 
 Tom had said it would be. The contentious became 
 softened and made up in sullenness what they lacked in 
 pugnacity; for there are some who, proven wrong, find 
 cause for anger in the correction, their stubbornness of 
 such a quality that it seems to prefer to hold to an error 
 and take the penalties than to accept safety by admitting 
 that they are wrong. 
 
 In the meanwhile the experienced travelers had gone 
 down into the river bed and dug holes in the sand which. 
 
212 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 thanks to the recent rains, was a masked reservoir and 
 yielded all the water needed at a depth of two or three 
 feet. After a hard struggle with the thirsty animals to 
 keep them from stampeding for the water their nostrils 
 scented, at last all had been watered and the wagons 
 formed for the noon camp. Humbled greenhorns who 
 had neglected the " water scrape " at the Arkansas were 
 silently digging holes along the river bed and filling every 
 vessel they could spare. They were making the acquaint- 
 ance of a river of a kind they never had seen before. 
 
 Here they found a dry stretch, despite the heavy rains ; 
 had they now gone down or up its bed they would have 
 found alternating sections of water and dry sand, and in 
 the water sections they would have found a current 
 Some of the traders maintained that its real bed was 
 solid, unfractured rock, many feet below the sand which 
 covered it, which held the water as in a pipe and let it 
 follow its tendency to seek its level. The deep sand 
 blotted and hid the meager stream where the bottom was 
 farther below the sand's surface; but where the porous 
 layer was not so thick, the volume of water, being larger 
 than that of the sand, submerged the filling and flowed 
 in plain sight. Some of the more uncritical held that the 
 water flowed with the periodicity of tides, which like 
 many other irrational suppositions, seemed to give the 
 required explanation of the river's peculiarities. There 
 was no doubt, however, about the porosity of its sandy 
 bed, nor the amount of sand in it, for even after the 
 most severe and prolonged summer rainstorms, which 
 filled the river to overflowing, a few days sufficed to dry 
 it up again and restore its characteristics. 
 
 Having full water casks again the hysteria had sub- 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 213, 
 
 sided and the caravan set out toward the lower spring, 
 which was reached just before nightfall. Here they 
 found two men comfortably camped, despite the fact 
 that they were in the country of their implacable foes. 
 At first they showed a poorly hidden alarm at the appear- 
 ance of the wagons but, finding that they aroused no 
 especial interest, they made themselves a part of the camp 
 and began to get acquainted; but it was noticeable that 
 they chose the hunters and trappers in preference to the 
 traders, and carefully ignored the many Mexicans with 
 the train. But no matter how careful they were in their 
 speech they could not hide their identity, for the buttons 
 on their torn and soiled clothing all showed the Lone Star 
 of Texas, and to certain of the plainsmen this insignia 
 made them cordially welcome. Among the Mexicans it 
 made them just as cordially hated. 
 
 Tom Boyd espied them when the corral had been 
 formed and invited them to join him and Hank at supper. 
 A few words between the Texans and the two plainsmen 
 established a close bond between them, and they became 
 friends the instant Tom mentioned the partner he 
 had lost on the march of the First Texan Expedition. 
 Hank's careless reference to the treatment his partner 
 had given Armijo on the streets of Santa Fe caused them 
 to look carefully around and then, in low voices, tell the 
 two plainsmen about the events which recently had trans- 
 pired between the Cimarron and the Arkansas. 
 
 " Th' greasers in this hyar train air plumb lucky," said 
 one of the Texans, who called himself Jed Burch. 
 "Ain't that so. Buck?" 
 
 Buck Flint nodded sourly. " They kin thank themt 
 d — d dragoons o' yourn, friend," he answered. 
 
214 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 • — ■■ - ^ 
 
 *' How's that? " asked Tom. " An' what about th' fight 
 we saw signs of, a couple o' days back?" 
 
 " It's all part of a long story," replied Jed, gloomily. 
 "Reckon ye might as well have th' hull of it, so ye'Il 
 know what's up, out hyar." He looked around cau- 
 tiously. " Don't want no d — d greasers larnin' it, 
 though. Who air these fellers comin' now? " 
 
 "Good friends o' ourn," said Hank. "Couple o' 
 hunters that hang out, most o' th' time, at Bent's Fort." 
 
 Jim and Zeb arrived, were introduced and vouched for, 
 and the little circle sat bunched together as the strangers 
 explained some recent history. 
 
 " Ye see, boys," began Burch, " us Texans air pizen 
 ag in greasers, 'specially since Armijo treated McLeod's 
 boys wuss nor dogs. So a passel o' us got together this 
 spring an' come up hyar ter git in a crack they wouldn't 
 fergit. Me an' Buck, hyar, was with th' first crowd, 
 under Warfield, an' we larned 'em a lesson up on th' 
 Mora. Thar warn't more'n a score of us, an' we raided 
 that village, nigh under th' nose o' Santer Fe, killed some 
 o' th' greasers, didn't lose a man, an' run off every hoss 
 they had, ter keep 'em from follerin' us. But we got 
 careless an' one night th' danged greasers an' settlement 
 Injuns come up ter us an' stampeded all thar own bosses 
 an' ourn, too, an' didn't give us a lick at 'em. That put 
 us afoot with all our stuff. Thar warn't nothin' we 
 could do, then, but burn our saddles an' what we couldn't 
 carry, an' hoof it straight fer Bent's. We was on U. S. 
 soil thar, so Warfield disbanded us an' turned us loose; 
 but we knowed whar ter go, an' we went. 
 
 "Colonel Snively war ter be at a sartin place on th' 
 Arkansas, an' he war thar. We jined up with him an' 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 2^ 
 
 went along tliis hyar trail, larnin' that Armijo war 
 a-lookin' fer us somewhar on it. Hell! He warn't 
 a-lookin' fer us : he had a powerful advance guard out 
 feelin' th' way, but he warn't with it. We come up ter 
 that party and cleaned it up, nobody on our side gittin' 
 more'n a scratch. But we couldn't git no news about th' 
 caravan that war due ter come along 'most any day, an' 
 some o' th' boys got discouraged an' went home. Th' 
 rest o' us went back ter th' Arkansas, campin' half a 
 day's ride below th' Caches, whar we could keep our eyes 
 on th' old crossin' an' th' main trail at th' same time. An' 
 we hadn't been thar very long afore 'long comes th' cara- 
 van, full o' greasers. But, hell: it war guarded by a 
 couple hundred dragoons under yer Captain Cook which 
 kept us from hittin' it till it got acrost th' river an' past 
 th' sand-hills, whar U. S. troops dassn't go, seein' it's 
 Texas soil. 
 
 " Everythin' would 'a' been all right if Snively hadn't 
 got polite an' went over ter visit Cook. They had a red- 
 hot palaver, Cook sayin' he warn't goin' ter escort a car- 
 avan till it was plumb inter danger an' then stand by 
 an' let it go on ter git wiped out. Snively told him we 
 warn't aimin' ter wipe it out, but only ter get th' greas- 
 ers with it. They had it powerful hard, I heard, an* 
 Cook up an' says he's goin' ter take our guns away from 
 us if it cost him every man he had. Danged if he didn't 
 do it, too ! " 
 
 Flint was laughing heartily and broke in. " Wonder 
 what he thought o' our weapons ? " he exulted. " Not one 
 o' 'em that he got from our bunch war worth a dang." 
 
 Burch grinned in turn. " Ye see, we had took th' guns 
 belongin' ter Armijo's scoutin' party, an' when Cook took 
 
2i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 up his collection, a lot o' th' boys, hidin' thar own good 
 weapons, sorrerfully hands over th' danged escopetas an** 
 blunderbusses an' bows an' arrers o' th' greasers. How- 
 ever, he disarmed us an' kept us thar till th' caravan 
 got such a big start thar warn't no earthly use o' goin' 
 after it, thar not bein' more'n sixty or seventy o' us that 
 had good weapons. Some o' th' boys struck out f er home, 
 an' a couple o' score went with th' dragoons back ter 
 Missouri. Us that war left, about as many as went home, 
 made Warfield captain ag'in an' went after th' danged 
 caravan, anyhow. We follered it near ter Point o' Rocks 
 before we gave it up. Nobody reckoned thar war two 
 caravans on th' trail this year, so Warfield an' most o' 
 th' boys went back ter Texas; but thar's considerable 
 few o' us roamin' 'round up hyar, dodgin' th' Comanches 
 on a gamble o' gittin' in a crack at some o' Armijo's 
 sojers that might come scoutin' 'round ter see if we has 
 all went back. Anyhow, bein' so fur from home, an' 
 hankerin' fer a little huntin', we figgered that we might 
 stay up hyar till fall, or mebby all winter if we hung out 
 at Bent's." 
 
 "We made a big mistake, though," confessed Flint 
 " Ye see, a greaser must 'a' got away from that fight an' 
 took th' news ter Armijo. When we passed Cold Spring, 
 f oiler in' th' caravan, we come on his camp, an' it war 
 plumb covered with ridin' gear an' belongin's that none 
 o' his brave army had time ter collect proper. Some o' 
 us that had ter burn our saddles war ridin' bareback, but 
 we got saddles thar. He must 'a' lit out pronto when he 
 larned Texans war a-rampagin' along th' trail. From 
 th' signs he didn't even wait fer th' caravan he war goin* 
 ter protect, but jest went a-kiyotin' fer home." 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 217 
 
 " He knew th' difference between starved an' betrayed 
 Texans, an' Texans that war fixed ter fight," growled 
 Tom. "Go on: what was th' mistake?" 
 
 " Wall, Warfield said that if we had made that van- 
 guard surrender peaceful, which they would 'a' done, 
 we could 'a' captured every man, kept th' news from 
 Armijo, an' larned jest whar ter find him. He would 'a' 
 been waitin' fer his scoutin' party, an' some mornin' about 
 daylight he would 'a' found a scoutin' party — from 
 Texas, an' mad an' mean as rattlers. It don't alius pay 
 ter let yer tempers git th' best o' ye, an' make ye jump 
 afore ye look. We'd 'a' ruther got Armijo than th' 
 whole cussed advance guard, an' th' rest o' his army, too." 
 
 "With Salezar," muttered Tom. 
 
 Burch jumped. "Aye!" he snarled. "With Salezar! 
 Fer them two I'd 'a' been in favor o' lettin' all th' rest 
 go!" 
 
 " What you boys goin' ter do now ? " asked Hank. 
 
 "Fool 'round up hyar, dodgin' war-parties that air 
 too big ter lick," answered Flint. " We been scoutin' up 
 th' river, an' our friends air on a scout back in th' hills, 
 tryin' ter locate th' nearest Comanche village. We cleaned 
 out one on th' way up, back on th' Washita. We're aimin' 
 ter run a big buffaler hunt as soon as we locates th' hos- 
 tiles." 
 
 "How many are there of you?" asked Tom, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "'Bout a dozen or fifteen: why?" asked Burch. 
 
 "Not a very big party to be playin' tag with th* 
 Comanches in thar own country," Tom repKed. 
 
 With his foot Burch pushed a stick back into the fire 
 and then glanced around the little circle. "Wonder 
 
2i8 *' BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 what th' white men o' this wagon train would do if we 
 rode up an' asked f er th' greasers in it ter be turned over 
 ter us ? " he asked. 
 
 Tom smiled. " Fight as long as we could pull trigger," 
 he answered. "We ain't betrayin' no< members o' th' 
 caravan. Lord knows we don't like greasers, an' we do 
 feel strong for Texas; but we'd be plain skunks if we 
 didn't stick with our feller travelers." 
 
 "An' what could we say when we got inter Santer 
 Fe, if we dared go thar ? " asked Hank. 
 
 Burch nodded, shrugged his shoulders, and changed 
 the subject to that of the unfortunate First Texan Ex- 
 pedition and the terrible sufferings it underwent, a 
 subject at that time very prominent in all Texan hearts. 
 It did not take them long to judge accurately the real 
 feelings of their hosts and to learn that their sympathies 
 were all for Texas; but even with this knowledge they 
 did not again refer to anything connected with their 
 presence along the trail; instead, they were careful to 
 create the impression that their little party intended to 
 start almost immediately northwest across the Cimarron 
 desert for Bent's Fort, and from there to scour the plains 
 for buffalo skins. They even asked about the Bayou 
 Salade and its contiguous mountain "parks" as a place 
 to hunt and trap during the coming winter. After dark 
 they said their good-byes and left the encampment, to the 
 vast relief of the Mexicans with the train. And that night 
 and the next, the Mexicans who chanced to be on watch 
 were the most alert of all the guards. 
 
 After their guests had gone the four friends sat in 
 silence for awhile, reviewing what they had learned, and 
 then Hank spc4ce up. 
 
HURRAH FOR TEXAS 219 
 
 "Reckon we better tell Woodson that thar won't be 
 no greaser troops waitin' fer us this trip?" he asked. 
 
 Tom was about to nod, but changed his mind and 
 quickly placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. " No," 
 he said slowly. " I'm beginnin' ter see through th' holes 
 in th' ladder! Not a word, boys, ter anybody! Pedro's 
 lie about thar bein' no guard ter meet us this year ain't 
 a lie no more ; but he don't know it, an' he ain't goin' ter 
 know it! Meantime, we'll keep our ears an' eyes open, 
 an' be ready ter jump like cats. I got a suspicion ! " 
 
 " I got a bran' new one," chuckled Hank. " Hurrah 
 for Texas!" 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 TH^ VALLEY OP THE CIMARRON 
 
 BECAUSE of the next stretch to certain water, a 
 matter of about thirty-five miles, another very early 
 start was made after the surrounding country had been 
 searched by the plainsmen for signs of Indians. Although 
 later in the season than usual for a caravan to cover this 
 part of the route, the dreaded dry stretch along the usu- 
 ally empty river bed was found broken here and there by 
 shallow pools and advantage was taken of these to soak 
 the wooden rims of some of the older and more faulty 
 wagon wheels. One trader with a wagon which never 
 should have left Missouri had been put to great trouble 
 to keep the tires on his two front wheels and had "bor- 
 rowed " about all the wire and hoop-iron his friends felt 
 disposed to give him. He had driven so many pieces of 
 iron between the felloes and the tires that daylight could 
 be seen between the two; and on topping a little hill 
 between two ravines near the river bank one of the tires 
 slipped off and went rolling and bounding down the slope 
 onto the dry river bed. Amid roars of laughter the col- 
 umn stopped until he had recovered it and re-wedged it 
 onto the wheel, and at the next nooning stop he drove 
 the wagon into a trickle of water running down the 
 middle of the river bed and spent most of his time back- 
 ing and pulling to get every part of the wheels soaked. 
 A strong body of scouts which had pushed on ahead of 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 221 
 
 the column returned shortly after the noon camp had 
 been left, and reported that about ten miles farther on a 
 section of the river several hundred yards long was full 
 of water. Not being able to make the Middle Spring 
 that day, this wet section of the river was decided upon 
 for the night camp, A score of mounted men were sent 
 on ahead to scour the country for signs of Indians, but 
 became so hungry for the numerous kinds of wild fruits 
 and berries along the sides of the ravines, that they did 
 their work poorly and did not reach the proposed camp 
 site much before the caravan got there. 
 
 The country was cut by a maze of ravines and gullies 
 and studded with small hills, little pastures of excellent 
 grass nestling between them. As the wagons filed down 
 a narrow road onto a pasture fronting on the Cimarron 
 a plainsman, who had pushed on ahead of the caravan 
 because he doubted the seriousness and intelligence of 
 the scouting party, was seen dashing down to the farther 
 bank of the river and splashing across it without check- 
 ing the speed of his horse. 
 
 One look at him was enough for Woodson, and the 
 sharp blast of the bugle cut the air. Wagoners whipped 
 their tired teams into the best speed they could give and 
 the clatter and screeching of the rumbling wagons filled 
 the air as they raced around into the circular formation. 
 The scout barely had left the river and the wagons still 
 were forming when over the crest of a hill across the 
 stream appeared a mass of horsemen, their lances stand- 
 ing like drunken pickets against the sky. No need to 
 ask what tribe they belonged to, for the hint conveyed 
 by their lances soon was endorsed by their fantastic two- 
 color blankets, one half red and the other half blue. Most 
 
222 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 of them wore, in addition to the regular attire of the 
 plains Indians, a leather jacket, and from the heels of 
 their moccasins trailed tassels, another mark of their 
 tribe. 
 
 These warriors, magnificent specimens of manhood 
 and superb horsemen, appeared to be gigantic as they 
 paused and spread out along the crest of the hill, boldly 
 outlined against the bright sky behind them. They 
 watched the running circle of wagons stop by jerks as 
 vehicle after vehicle crowded against the one ahead of 
 it and came to a stand, the teams inside the corral. They 
 rode slowly down the hill, their numbers constantly 
 growing, as a line of defenders moved out from the en- 
 campment to interpose itself between the camp and the 
 Comanche warriors; and as the line stopped to wait for 
 the cannons to get into position the red enemy charged 
 with a bedlam of whoops and yells. The two quick roars 
 of the cannons and the hurtling solid shot, which raised 
 dust-puffs high up on the hill, checked them and they 
 spread out into two thin lines of racing horsemen running 
 toward both sides of the encampment. 
 
 Woodson, glad that the cannoneers had missed in their 
 panicky aim, ordered the defenders to fall back to the 
 wagons, which they were only too glad to do; but they 
 did not obey his command to cease firing, and sent their 
 hastily aimed balls in the general direction of the enemy. 
 No harm was done by these, not only because of the poor 
 aim but also because the racing Indians were as yet well 
 out of rifle shot and were hanging over on the far side 
 of their mounts. 
 
 Tom ran to the frantically working cannoneers and 
 threw himself among them without regard to how he 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 223 
 
 handled them, shouting for them not to fire until Wood- 
 son gave the word, and then to load with musket balls 
 and fire as fast and true as they could. Franklin joined 
 him, his face as black as a thunder cloud, and made 
 threats they knew he would carry out if the instructions 
 were not obeyed. 
 
 The racing line drew nearer and nearer, those of the 
 warriors who had guns discharging them into the air. 
 It looked like a desperate fight was only a few seconds 
 away when Hank yelled his discovery. Over the crest 
 of the same hill appeared the women and children of the 
 tribe, their dogs dragging burdens on their small travoises 
 and the horses pulling the dragging lodgepoles loaded 
 down with the possessions of their owners. This meant 
 peace, for if war was intended, all but the warriors 
 would have been sent away. Some of the more quick- 
 witted of the plainsmen and traders waved their hats at 
 the debouching village across the river, and Woodson, 
 with Tom and Franklin at his side, held up his hand and 
 walked toward the slowing line. An arrow suddenly 
 quivered in the ground almost under his feet and he 
 stopped, raising both hands. An Indian dashed back 
 across the river, where he berated a group of non-com- 
 batants and waved them toward the top of the hill. The 
 traveling village instantly became a confusion of quick 
 movement and climbed the hill and dipped over its crest 
 much quicker than it had appeared. 
 
 Woodson swore under his breath. " Reckon we got 
 ter fight, boys. Look sharp an' fall back ter th' caravan. 
 Drop th' first brave that lifts bow an' arrer!" He 
 glanced back to see how far they had to go and glimpsed 
 a dozen men under Hank and Zeb coming to their aid. 
 
224 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 He raised his hand to them and they instantly dropped 
 to their knees, their rifles leaping to their shoulders. 
 "Now," he grated. "We're bein' covered; turn an' 
 run ! " As the three men reached the covering party they 
 checked themselves, joined it, faced the savages, and the 
 entire party fell slowly back to the wagons. 
 
 " Funny they didn't send in more'n that one arrer," 
 growled Woodson, thoroughly puzzled. "These hyar 
 ain't Pawnee hoss-stealers ; thar fightin' men. Knock 
 down that gun!" he snapped as a tenderfoot rested a 
 powerful rifle across a wagon wheel. The man beside 
 the amt^itious Indian fighter struck it aside and the ball 
 went into the ground. " Th' next man as pulls trigger till 
 I says fer him to is goin' to be d — d sorry!" cried the 
 captain, drawing his pistol. 
 
 1?he running line, moving back farther under the 
 threat of the two cannons, gradually stopped, facing the 
 waiting defenders. It seemed like the calm that precedes 
 a storm. Then down the hill across the river came a 
 small group of savages more outrageously decked out 
 than any seen so far. 
 
 "Th' chiefs," growled Woodson. "Hope we git out 
 o' this without a fight. Even th' Comanches ain't usually 
 anxious ter git inter a clawin' match with Americans, 
 though they air th' best o' th' prairie tribes." 
 
 " They do about what they please with th' Mexicans," 
 replied Tom ; " but they've larned that Americans air a 
 different breed, an' have better guns. But some o' thar 
 raids inter Texas have puffed 'em up. I don't like thar 
 village climbin' back over that hill." 
 
 " If it's ter be peace, I'd a cussed sight ruther have it 
 over th' hill than planted somewhar close ter us; they'd 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 225 
 
 over-run th' camp an' friction would be shore ter grow. 
 While mebby they can't steal as slick as th' Pawnees, 
 they kin do it good enough ter make us cross-eyed watch- 
 in' 'em. Some tenderfoot shore will ketch one of 'em 
 stealin' his belongin's an' start a fight thar an' then, with 
 a hull passel o' 'em inside th' corral. Wall, we'll soon 
 find out what's goin' ter come of it; they've jined th' 
 line." 
 
 The white defenders eagerly watched the pow-wow 
 being held to the southwest of the encampment, their 
 rifles balanced for quick handling; then they slowly re- 
 laxed and some rested their weapons on the ground. 
 The consulting group of warriors split and from it, 
 /iding with slow dignity toward the wagons, came two 
 chiefs and two lesser warriors. They held up their hands 
 when within rifle shot and stopped. Woodson, Tom, 
 Franklin, and Haviland, mounted this time, rode with 
 the same slow dignity out to meet them. Franklin could 
 speak their tongue well enough to make himself under- 
 stood, and Woodson and Tom knew the universal sign 
 language well enough to express themselves in it. As 
 they left the camp they caught a glimpse of another band 
 of warriors riding around the upper end of the hill and 
 roughly estimated the combined force to be close to five 
 hundred. Here was good reason to be as tactful as pos- 
 sible. When within speaking distance of the Comanche 
 envoys they drew up and the two groups eyed each other 
 in silence for several minutes. 
 
 " Our village on the Washita is no more," said a chief 
 who had enough long hair to supply any hirsute deficiency 
 of a dozen men and not suffer by it. " Its ashes are 
 blown by the winds and its smoke brings tears to the 
 
226 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 eyes of our squaws and children. Our winter maize is 
 gone and our storehouses lie about the ground. White 
 Buffalo and his braves were hunting the buffalo beyond 
 the Cimarron. Their old men and their squaws and 
 children were with them. Some of my young men have 
 just returned and brought us this news. What have the 
 white men to say of this? " 
 
 '' Our hearts are heavy for our friends the Comanches," 
 answered Woodson. "There are many tribes of white 
 men, as there are many tribes of Indians. There are the 
 Americanos, the Mexicanos, the Englise, and the Tejanos. 
 The Americans come from the North and the East along 
 their gi'eat trail, with goods to trade and with friendship 
 for the Comanches. The Mexicanos would not dare to 
 burn a Comanche village; but with the Tejanos are not 
 the Comanches at war? And we have seen Tejanos near 
 the trail. We have seen where they defeated Armijo's 
 soldiers, almost within sight of the Arkansas River. 
 Cannot White Buffalo read the signs on the earth? Our 
 trail is plain for many days to the east, for all to see. 
 Has he seen our wagon tracks to the Washita ? Are his 
 young men blind? We are many and strong and have 
 thunder guns, but we do not fight except to protect our- 
 selves and our goods. We are traders." 
 
 "We are warriors!" exclaimed the chief. "We also 
 are many and strong, and our lances are short that our 
 courage may be long. White Buffalo has listened. He 
 believes that the white chief speaks with a single tongue. 
 His warriors want the white man's guns and powder; 
 medicine guns that shoot like the clapping of hands. 
 Such have the Tejanos. He has skins and meat and 
 fnulos." 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 227 
 
 "The medicine guns are Tejano medicine," replied 
 Woodson. " We have only such as I see in the hands of 
 some of our friends, the Comanches. Powder and lead 
 we have little, for we have come far and killed much 
 game; blue and red cloth we have, medicine glasses, 
 beads, awls, knives, tobacco, and firewater we have much 
 of. Our mules are strong and we need no more." He 
 looked shrewdly at a much-bedecked Indian at the chief's 
 side. "We have presents for the Comanche Medicine 
 Man that only his eyes may see." 
 
 The medicine man's face did not change a muscle but 
 there came a gleam to his eyes that Woodson noted. 
 
 "The Comanches are not like the Pawnees or Chey- 
 ennes to kill their eyes and ears with firewater," retorted 
 the chief. " We are not Pawnee dogs that we must hide 
 from ourselves and see things that are not. Our hair is 
 long, that those may take it who can. I have spoken." 
 
 There was some further talk in which was arranged a 
 visit from the Comanche chief; the bartering price of 
 mules, skins, and meat, as was the custom of this tribe; 
 a long-winded exchange of compliments and assurances 
 of love and good will, in the latter both sides making 
 plenty of reservations. 
 
 When Woodson and his companions returned to the 
 encampment they went among the members of the cara- 
 van with explicit instructions, hoping by the use of tact 
 and common sense to avert friction with their expected 
 visitors. Small articles were put away and the wagon 
 covers tightly drawn to minimize the opportunities of the 
 Indians for theft. 
 
 The night passed quietly and the doubled guard appar- 
 ently was wasted Shortly after daylight the opposite 
 
228 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* ^ 
 
 hill suddenly swarmed with dashing warriors, whose 
 horsemanship was a revelation to some of the tenderfeet. 
 Following the warriors came the non-combatants of the 
 tribe, pouring down the slope in noisy confusion. Wood- 
 son swore under his breath as he saw the moving village 
 enter the shallow waters of the river to camp on the same 
 side with the caravan, for it seemed that his flowery 
 assurances of love and esteem had been taken at their 
 face value; but he was too wise to credit this, knowing 
 that Indians were quick to take advantage of any excuse 
 that furthered their ends. The closer together the two 
 camps were the more easily could the Indians over-run 
 the corralled traders. 
 
 Reaching the encampment's side of the stream the 
 lodges were erected with most praiseworthy speed, laid 
 out in rows, and the work finished in a remarkably short 
 time. The conical lodges averaged more than a dozen 
 feet in diameter and some of them, notably that of the 
 chief, were somewhere near twice that size. 
 
 In the middle of the morning the chiefs and the more 
 important warriors paid their visit to the corral and were 
 at once put in good spirits by a salute from the cannons, 
 a passing of the red-stone pipes, and by receiving pres- 
 ents of tobacco and trade goods. While they sat on the 
 ground before Woodson's wagon and smoked, the medi- 
 cine man seemed restless and finally arose to wander 
 about. He bumped into Tom Boyd, who had been waiting 
 to see him alone, and was quickly led to Franklin's wagon 
 where the owner, hiding his laughter, was waiting. It 
 is well to have the good will of the chiefs, but it is better 
 also to have that of the medicine m_an; and wily Hank 
 Marshall never overlooked that end of it when on a 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 22^ 
 
 trading expedition among the Indians. He had let Wood- 
 son into his secret before the parley of the day before, 
 and now his scheme was about to bear fruit. 
 
 Franklin made some mysterious passes over a little pile 
 of goods which was covered with a gaudy red cloth on 
 which had been fastened some beads and tinsel; and as 
 he did so, both Tom and Hank knelt and bowed their 
 heads. Franklin stepped back as if fearful of instant 
 destruction, and then turned to the medicine man, who 
 had overlooked nothing, with an expression of reverent 
 awe on his face. 
 
 For the next few minutes Franklin did very well, con- 
 sidering that he knew very little of what he was talking 
 about, but he managed to convey the information that 
 under the red cloth was great medicine, found near the 
 "Thunderer's Nest," not far from the great and sacred 
 red pipestone quarry of the far north. The mention of 
 this Mecca of the Indians, sacred in almost every system 
 of Indian mythology, made a great impression on the 
 medicine man and it was all he could do to keep his 
 avaricious fingers off the cloth and wait until Franklin's 
 discourse was finished. The orator wound up almost in 
 a whisper. 
 
 " Here is a sour water that has the power to foretell 
 peace or war," he declaimed, tragically. " There are two 
 powders, found by the chief of the Hurons, under the 
 very nest of the Thunder Bird. They look alike, yet 
 they are different. One has no taste and if it is put into 
 some of the sour water the water sleeps and tells of 
 peace; but if the other, which has a taste, is put in the 
 medicine water, the water boils and cries for war. It 
 is powerful medicine and always works." 
 
230 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The eyes of the red fakir gleamed, for with him often 
 lay the decision as to peace or war, and in this respect 
 his power was greater even than that of a chief. After a 
 short demonstration with the water, to which had been 
 added a few drops of acid, the two powders, one of which 
 was soda, were tested out. The medicine man slipped his 
 presents under his robe, placed his fingers on his lips and 
 strode away. When the next Comanche war-council was 
 held he would be a dominating figure, and the fame of 
 his medicine would spread far and wide over the Indian 
 country. 
 
 " Got him, body an' soul ! " chuckled Franklin, rubbing 
 his hands. " Did ye see his mean ol' eyes near pop out 
 when she fizzed? He saw all th' rest o' th' stuff an* 
 he won't rest till he gits it all ; an' he won't git it all till 
 his tribe or us has left. He plumb likes th' fizz combina- 
 tion, an' mebby would want to try it out hyar an' now. 
 Thar won't be no trouble with these Injuns this trip." 
 
 " An' that thar black sand ye gave him," laughed Hank, 
 leaning back against a wagon wheel, "that looks like 
 powder, so he kin make his spell over real powder, slip 
 th' sand in its place, an' show how his medicine will fix 
 th' powder of thar enemies so it won't touch off! Did 
 ye see th' grin on his leather face, when he savvied that ? 
 He's a wise ol' fakir, he is ! " 
 
 Tom grinned at Franklin. " Hank, here, has got th' 
 medicine men o' th' Piegan Blackfeet eatin' out o' his 
 hand. Every time th' Crows git after him too danged 
 hot he heads fer th' Blackfoot country. They only fol- 
 lered him thar onct. What all did ye give 'em. Hank? " 
 
 " Oh, lots o' little things," chuckled Hank, reminis- 
 cently. " Th' medicine men o' th' Blackfeet air th' great- 
 
THE VALLEY OP THE CIMARRON 251 
 
 est in th' world ; thar ain't no others kin come within a 
 mile o' 'em, thanks ter me an' a chemist I know back in 
 St. Louie. Th' other traders alius git what I leave." 
 
 When the important Indian visitors left there was 
 quite a little ceremony, and the camp was quiet until 
 after the noon meal. Early in the afternoon, according 
 to the agreement with the chief and the medicine man, 
 the Indians visited the encampment in squads, and at no 
 time was there more than thirty or forty savages in the 
 encampment at once. Instead of the usual attempted 
 stampede of the animals at night all was peaceful; and 
 instead of having to remain for two or three days in 
 camp, at all times in danger of a change in the mood of 
 the savages, the caravan was permitted to leave on the 
 following morning, which miracle threw Woodson into 
 more or less of a daze. As the last wagon rounded a 
 hillock several miles from the camp site a mounted Co- 
 manche rode out of the brush and went along the column 
 until he espied Franklin; and a few moments later 
 he rode into the brush again, a bulging red cloth bundle 
 stowed under his highly ornamented robe. 
 
 But there was more than the desire to trade, the pro- 
 fessed friendship and the bribery of the medicine man 
 that operated for peace in the minds of the Comanches. 
 Never so early in the history of the trail had they attacked 
 any caravan as large as this one and got the best of the 
 fight. In all the early years of the trail the white men 
 killed in such encounters under such conditions, could [ 
 
 be counted on the fingers of one hand; while the Indian i;] 
 
 losses had been considerable. With all their vaunted 
 courage the Comanches early had learned the difference 
 between Americans and Mexicans, and most of their 
 
232 "B RING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 • ~ » 
 
 attempts against large caravans had been more for the 
 purpose of stampeding the animals than for fighting, and 
 their efforts mostly had been *' full of sound and fury," 
 like Macbeth's idiot's tale, and signified nothing. Still, 
 the caravan breathed easier as mile after mile took it 
 away from that encampment; but their escape was not 
 regarded so seriously as to make them pass Middle 
 Spring, where good water always could be found, ^'ad 
 here they corralled. 
 
 Tom and his friends had grown more alert since leav- 
 ing the Arkansas, and without showing it had kept a close 
 watch over Pedro and his companions. The actions of 
 these and of a few Americans, Franklin among the lat- 
 ter, seemed to merit scrutiny. A subtle change was taking 
 place in them. Franklin spent more of his time near Tom 
 and Hank, and Pedro and some of the Mexicans were 
 showing a veiled elation tinged with anxiety. Wherever 
 Tom went he was watched, and if he joined the advance 
 guard, or the rear guard, or the flanking parties, Frank- 
 lin was certain to show up. He seemed to have taken a 
 belated but strong fancy to the young plainsman. When 
 Hank and Tom took the packs from the backs of their 
 mules at night not a move they made was missed; and 
 they soon learned that quite a few of the Mexicans were 
 sleeping in the wagons of friends during the morning 
 traveling. 
 
 It was here at Middle Spring where Tom and Jim 
 Ogden staged a serious disagreement, which spread to one 
 between Hank Marshall and Zeb Houghton, and resulted 
 in the two sets of partners becoming estranged. When 
 questioned about it in indirect ways by Franklin, Ogden 
 sullenly said that he could handle his troubles without 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 2331 
 
 the aid of others, and would handle them " danged quick " 
 if a certain plainsman didn't look out. Zeb was not so 
 cautious and his remarks, vague as they were, were plain 
 enough to bring fleeting smiles to the faces of Pedro and 
 his friends. 
 
 The grass was better here than at any place since the 
 Arkansas had been left and as some of the animals were 
 beginning to show unmistakable signs of the long jour- 
 ney, it was decided to remain here another night and 
 give them a chance to recuperate a little. The news was 
 hailed joyfully and numerous hunting parties were ar- 
 ranged at the fires the first night. Woodson called for 
 volunteers to form a strong day guard for the animals, 
 which he wanted driven from the camp to graze over the 
 best grass, and he asked for another strong guard to 
 watch the corral, since Comanches, Pawnee Picts, 
 Kiowas, and even more northern tribes out on horse- 
 stealing expeditions could be looked for without unduly 
 straining the imagination. Arapahoes, Utes, and even 
 Cheyennes were not strangers to the valley of the Cim- 
 arron, and once in a while Apache raiders paid it flying 
 visits. 
 
 Woodson made the round of the fires, trying to dis- 
 courage the formation of so many small hunting parties 
 while the caravan was corralled in such broken and dan- 
 gerous country, and succeeded in reducing the numbers 
 of the hunters about half and in consolidating them into 
 two large parties, capable of offering some sort of resist- 
 ance to an Indian attack. One of these he put under the 
 command of Hank, to that person's great disgust, for 
 Hank had planned to go on a hunt with his partner, and 
 to join Ogden and Houghton when well away from the 
 
234 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 camp. Tom was to remain with the wagons ; Ogden was 
 to have charge of the other hunting party, and Houghton 
 and Franklin were to stay near the grazing herd. 
 
 The fires dimmed here and there as their builders 
 forsook them for blankets; others glowed brilliantly, 
 among them the fire of Tom and Hank. The former had 
 said good night to Joe Cooper and Patience and was 
 walking toward his fire when Pedro silently joined him 
 and went along with him. Hank was off entertaining a 
 party of tenderfeet with tales of miraculous adventures 
 in the mountains, and after lying to the best of his ability 
 for two hours, and hardly being questioned, he described 
 a wonderful country lying east of Henry's Fork of the 
 Snake River; south of the Snow Mountains; north of 
 Jackson's Lake and west of the Shoshones Mountains. 
 It lay along the Yellowstone River and the headwaters 
 of the Stinking Water, and it contained all manner of 
 natural wonders, which he described earnestly and graph- 
 ically, to bursts of laughter. The more earnest he became 
 the more his auditors roared and finally he got to his 
 feet, glared around the circle, declared he was not going 
 to "eddicate airy passel o' danged fools," and stalked 
 away in high dudgeon, muttering fiercely. Reaching his 
 own fire he threw himself down by it and glared at the 
 glowing embers as if he held them responsible. 
 
 Tom nudged Pedro. " Somebody ask ye fer a left- 
 hand wipin' stick. Hank?" he asked. 
 
 "Thar a passel o' fools!" snorted Hank. "If boss 
 sense war ten paces wide an' ten miles long in every man, 
 ye couldn't collect enough o' it in th' whole danged party 
 fer ter make an ear tab fer a buffaler gnat ! " 
 
 " Tellin' 'em about that thar river ye saw that couldn't 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 235 
 
 find no way outer th' valley, an' finally had ter flow up 
 over a mounting?" 
 
 "Ye mean them up-side-down water falls?" queried 
 Hank, grinning. "Yes, an' some o' 'em come clost ter 
 swallerin' it. Why, I sot thar an' filled 'em plumb ter 
 th' ears with lies an' they didn't hardly wink an eye. 
 Then I told 'em o' that valley on th' Yallerstun, whar th' 
 Injuns won't go because they figger it's th' home o' 
 th' Devil. An' th' more I told 'em about it, th' more th' 
 danged fools laughed ! I'd like ter hold 'em over one o' 
 them thar water-squirts, or push 'em down into th' 
 bilin' mud pots ! Swallered th' lies, dang 'em, an' spit out 
 th' truth ! " 
 
 Tom roared and after a moment looked curiously at 
 his partner. *' I thought ye said you'd never tell nobody 
 about that country ag'in ? " 
 
 " Oh, I felt so danged sorry f er thar ignorance that I 
 reckoned I'd eddicate 'em, th' dumb fools! If I had a 
 ox an' it didn't know more'n them all put together, 
 danged if I wouldn't shoot it!" He sliced off a pipeful 
 of tobacco and pulled an ember from the fire. "What 
 you an' Pedro been hatchin' out?" 
 
 "Nothin', yit," answered Tom; "but I would like ter 
 hear a little more 'bout that thar roundabout trail inter 
 Santa Fe." He looked at Pedro. " How fur away from 
 hyar does it begin ? " 
 
 "Not so ver' far, sefior," answered the Mexican. 
 "Thees way from thee Upper Spr-ring, where thee 
 soldats are used to meet thee car-ravan. We come to eet 
 soon. We should leeve thees camp tomor-row night." 
 
 " What's th' use o' that when ye said th' soldiers ain't 
 goin' ter meet us this year ? " demanded Tom. 
 
236 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 " Why don't they meet th' trains whar they oughter, 
 'stead o' waitin' till they git past th' Injun dangers?** 
 demanded Hank with some feeling. 
 
 "Does not thee senor know?" chuckled Pedro. **Eet 
 ees not for protec' thee car-ravan that they meet eet. 
 Eet ees that no man may leave thee tr-rail an' smuggle 
 hees goods past thee customs. For what does Manuel 
 Armijo care for protec' thee traders? Eef he deed, 
 would he not meet them at thee Arkansas ? Eet ees only 
 for thee customs that he sends thee soldats. To get away 
 fr-rom theese we mus' tak thee other tr-rail befo' eet 
 ees too late." 
 
 " That's all right f er other years," growled Tom ; " but 
 if they ain't goin' ter meet us this time we kin stick ter 
 th' trail an' leave it a lot closer ter Santer Fe." 
 
 Pedro was doing his best to play safe from all angles. 
 If the troops tried to take Tom Boyd from the caravan, 
 or show that he was a prisoner, a great deal of trouble 
 might come out of it, for these Americans were devils 
 for sticking together. If that fear were groundless, then 
 Tom Boyd and his trapper friends, on sight of the troops, 
 might cut and run ; and if forced to stand and fight they 
 could be counted on to give a good account of themselves 
 against the poorer arms of their Mexican enemies; and 
 somewhere in the hills he thought there were Texans 
 and he knew them well enough to know that they would 
 only be too glad to take a hand in any fight against Mex- 
 icans if they learned of it in time. At first he had been 
 content to get Tom Boyd to the Upper Spring or to Cold 
 Spring, only a few miles farther on, and there turn his 
 responsibility over to the commander of the troops. If 
 he could get them to slip away from their friends and 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 237 
 
 be captured out of sight and hearing of the caravan it 
 would suit him much better; and if he could coax them 
 to take their goods with them, he and his friends could 
 divide the spoils and slip the plunder past the customs 
 ofiEicers. The caravan was now within fifty miles of Cold 
 Spring and he must make up his mind and act quickly. 
 
 " Eet ees then you weesh to pay thee char-rges ? " the 
 Mexican asked, raising his eyebrows. 
 
 "No!" growled Hank. "They air a robbery, plain 
 an' simple." 
 
 " No ! " said Tom, who was giving but little thought 
 to the customs duties, but a great deal to his own per- 
 sonal freedom. He did not want to meet any kind of 
 officers, customs or otherwise. He would have jumped 
 at a secret trail into the settlements had he not known 
 so much about Pedro. "At th' same time I ain't han- 
 kerin' fer ter leave th' caravan so soon. We're nigh 
 three hundred miles from Sante Fe, an' thar ain't no way 
 we kin go that'll cut off ten miles. This wagon road 
 runs nigh as straight as th' crow flies. What about grass 
 fer th' mules, an' water ? " 
 
 " Ah," breathed Pedro. " We weel not go to Santa Fe, 
 seiior ; we go near Taos, less than two hundred mile away 
 from here. Along thee Ocate Cr-reek I haf fr-riends who 
 know ver' well thee mountains. They weel tak us over 
 them. How can thee senores sell their goods onless by 
 ways that ar-re made? Weeth us we haf men that know 
 that tr-rail. We weel send one befor-re to thee Ocate, 
 an' follow heem fast." 
 
 Tom studied the fire for a few moments and then 
 looked up at his guest. "We want ter think this over, 
 Pedro," he said. " You figger what per cent o' th' cus- 
 
238 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 toms savings you want fer yer share, an* we'll decide 
 tomorrow night. Hank, here, wants ter go ter Bent's 
 an' reckons we kin git a good price thar fer our goods. 
 Let you know then. Good night." 
 
 After Pedro had painted the picture of the innocent- 
 looking loads of faggots and sheepskins, hay and pro- 
 duce, towering over the backs of the nearly hidden pack 
 mules as they toiled through the canon and over the rough 
 trail leading from the Valley of Taos into Santa Fe, their 
 loads passing the customs house without drawing even 
 a careless glance and then, by many turnings, safely 
 arriving at various destinations with their smuggled 
 goods; after he had described the care and foresight of 
 his friends and their trustworthiness, and made many 
 knowing bows and grimaces, he smilingly departed and 
 left the partners to themselves. 
 
 Knowing that they were being watched they idled 
 before the fire, careless now of their store of wood, of 
 which plenty was at hand, and talked at random; but 
 through the droning of their careless words many times 
 there could be heard the name "Bent's Fort," which 
 Hank mentioned with affectionate inflections. It seemed 
 that he very strongly preferred to go to that great trading 
 post and rendezvous of hunters and trappers, where old 
 friends would be met and new ones made. Tom held out 
 for Santa Fe, but did not show much enthusiasm. Finally 
 they rolled up in their blankets, feet toward the fire and 
 heads close together and simulated sleep. Half an hour 
 later they were holding a whispered conversation which 
 was pitched so low they barely could hear each other. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 TEXAN SCOUTS 
 
 THE day broke clear and the usual excitement 
 and bustle of the camp was increased by the 
 eager activities of the two hunting parties. After 
 the morning meal the animals were driven some dis- 
 tance from the camp and the herd guards began their 
 day's vigil. Tom placed the outposts and returned 
 to report to the captain, and then added that he had 
 something of a very confidential nature to tell him, 
 but did not want to be seen talking too long with 
 him. 
 
 Woodson reflected a moment. "All right; I'll come 
 after ye in a few minutes an' ask ye ter go huntin' 
 with me. 'Twon't be onusual if we ketch th' fever, 
 too." 
 
 Tom nodded and went over to Cooper's wagons 
 to pay his morning's respects, and to his chagrin 
 found that Patience had gone for a short ride with 
 Doctor Whiting and his friends. 
 
 "Sorry to miss her, Uncle Joe," he said. "Things 
 are going to happen fast for me from now on. I 
 may leave the caravan tonight. About two days' more 
 travel and we'll be south of Bent's. Hank and I don't 
 want to lose our merchandise, we can't take it with 
 us, and we need to turn it into money. How much 
 can you carry from here on?" 
 
 239 
 
240 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 Uncle Joe scratched his head. "The two big 
 wagons can take five hundred-weight more apiece, 
 and this wagon can stand near eight hundred, seein' 
 that it ain't carryin' much more than our personal 
 belongings. Don't worry, Tom; if I can't handle it 
 all, Alonzo and Enoch can take th' balance. Them 
 greasers showing their cards?" 
 
 "It's like this: According to those Texans we 
 met, no troops are going to meet us this trip. Their 
 advance guard got thrashed and Armijo and the main 
 body turned tail at Cold Spring and fled back to 
 Santa Fe. I could go with the caravan miles farther 
 and probably be safe; but if Pedro gets a messenger 
 away secretly there is no telling what may happen. 
 If I stay with the caravan and put up a fight it might 
 end in embroiling a lot of the bo37-s and certainly 
 would make trouble for them if the train pushed on 
 to Santa Fe, and it's got to push on. I won't sur- 
 render meekly. So, you see, I'll have to strike out." 
 
 Uncle Joe nodded. " If it wasn't for Patience, and 
 my brother in Santa Fe, I'd strike out with you. 
 Goin' to Bent's?" 
 
 "Bent's nothing!" retorted Tom. "I'm going to 
 Santa Fe, but I'm going a way of my own." 
 
 "It's suicide, Tom," warned his friend. "Better 
 let me take in your stuff, an' meet us here on the 
 way back. Patience won't spoil; an' when she learns 
 how much you're wanted by Armijo she'll worry her- 
 self sick if she knows you are in th' city. Don't you 
 doit!" 
 
 Tom scowled at a break in the hills and in his 
 mind's eye he could see her riding gaily with his 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 241 
 
 tenderfoot rivals. ** Reckon she won't fall away," he 
 growled. "Anyhow, there's no telling; an' there's no 
 reason why she should know anything. I told her 
 I was goin' to Santa Fe, an' I'm going ! " 
 
 Uncle Joe was about to retort but thought better 
 of it and smiled instead. " Oh, these jealous lovers !'* 
 he chuckled. "Blind as bats! Who do you know 
 there, in case I want to get word to you?" 
 
 Tom swiftly named three men and told where they 
 could be found, his companion nodding sharply at the 
 mention of two of them. 
 
 "Good!" exclaimed the trader. "Throw your 
 packs into my wagons an' I'll see to stowin' 'em." 
 
 "No," replied Tom. "That's got to be done when 
 th* camp's asleep. I'm supposed to be takin' 'em with 
 me," 
 
 " But these Mexicans'll trail you, an' get you when 
 you're asleep," objected Uncle Joe. 
 
 Tom laughed and shook his head, and turned to 
 face Woodson, who was walking toward them. "Th* 
 captain an' I am goin' huntin'. See you later." 
 
 "Git yer hoss, Boyd," called the captain. "I'm. 
 goin' fer mine now. How air ye, Mr. Cooper?" 
 
 " Never felt better in my life, captain. We all owe 
 you a vote of thanks, an' I'll see that you get it." 
 
 " Thar ain't a man livin' as kin git a vote o' thanks 
 fer me out o' this caravan," laughed Woodson, his 
 eyes twinkling. " But I ain't got no call ter kick : I 
 ain't had nigh th' trouble I figgered on. Jest th' same, 
 I'll be glad when we meet up with th' greaser troops 
 at Cold Spring. I aim to leave ye thar an' go on ahead 
 an' fix things in th' city." 
 
242 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Uncle Joe caught himself in time. "That's where 
 we bust up?" 
 
 Woodson nodded. "Thar ain't no organization 
 from thar in. Don't need it, with th' sojers. All us 
 proprietors that ain't got reg'lar connections in th' 
 city will be leavin' from Cold Spring on." 
 
 "Any danger from th' Injuns, leavin' that way? " 
 
 "Oh, we slip out at night," answered Woodson. 
 "Thar ain't much danger from any big bands. Got 
 ter do it; customs officers air like axles; they work 
 better arter they air greased. I aim ter leave two 
 waggins behind th' noon arter we git to th* Upper 
 Spring, an' save five hundred apiece on *em. Th* 
 other six kin make it from thar with th' extry loads, 
 an' th' extry animals to help pull 'em." He looked 
 toward the wagons of Alonzo and Enoch, where Tom 
 had tarried on his way back. "Thar's a fine, up- 
 standin' young man; I've had my eye on him ever 
 since we left th' Grove." 
 
 "He is; an' anythin' he tells you is gospel," said 
 Uncle Joe. 
 
 They saw the two traders waving their arms and 
 soon Tom hurried up. 
 
 "Alonzo an' Enoch would like to go with us, only 
 thar bosses air with th' herd," he said. 
 
 " Then we'll go afoot," declared Woodson. "I ain't 
 hankerin' so much fer a hunt as I air ter git away 
 from these danged waggins fer a spell. I'm sick o' 
 th' sight o' 'em. Better come along, Mr. Cooper." 
 
 "That depends on how fur yer goin'; this young 
 scamp will walk me off my feet." 
 
 " Oh, jest aways around th' hills; dassn't go too fur. 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 2^ 
 
 on account of airy Injuns that may be hangin' 'round/* 
 
 In a few moments the little group had left the 
 encampment behind and out of sight and Woodson, 
 waving the others ahead, fell back to Tom's side. 
 
 "Hyar we air, with nobody ter listen. What ye 
 want ter tell me?" 
 
 To the captain's growing astonishment Tom rapidly 
 sketched his conversation with the two Texans, his 
 affair with the despotic New Mexican governor and 
 what it now meant to him. Then he told of his 
 determination to leave the caravan some night soon, 
 perhaps on this night. 
 
 "Wall, dang my eyes!" exclaimed Woodson at 
 the conclusion of the narrative. " Good fer them 
 Texans! Young man, which hand did ye hit him 
 with? That un? Wall, I'll jest shake it, fer luck." 
 He thought a moment. "Ye air lucky, Boyd; north 
 o' here, acrost th' headwaters o' this river, an' a couple 
 more streams, which might be dry now, ye'll hit th* 
 Picketwire, that's alius wet. If ye find th' little cricks 
 dry, head more westward an' ye'll strike th' Picket- 
 wire quicker. It'll take ye nigh inter sight o' Bent's; 
 an' thar ain't no finer men walkin' than William^an' 
 Charles Bent. Hate ter lose ye, Boyd; but thar ain't 
 no two ways 'bout it; ye got ter go, or get skinned 
 alive." 
 
 "I'm not goin' ter Bent's, captain," said Tom 
 quietly. " I'll be in Santa Fe soon after you git thar. 
 Hank knows them mountains like you know this trail. 
 When I'm missed if ye'll throw 'em off my track I'll 
 not fergit it." He smiled grimly. "If I war goin* 
 ter Bent's they could foller, an' be damned to 'cm. 
 
4844 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 I'd like nothin* better than have 'em chase us thrcJugh 
 this kind o' country." 
 
 Woodson chuckled and then grew thoughtful. 
 "Boyd, them Texans air goin' ter make trouble fer 
 us, shore as shootin'. It'll be bad fer you, fer every 
 American in these settlements is goin* ter be watched 
 purty clost. Better go ter Bent's." 
 
 "Nope; Hank an' me air headin' fer Turley's, up 
 on Arroyo Hondo. Hank knows him well. Hyar 
 come th' others. I've told you an' Cooper, an' that's 
 enough. You fellers ain't turnin' back so soon, air 
 ye ?" he called. "Ye don't call this a hunt? Whar's 
 yer meat?" 
 
 " Whar's yourn ? " countered Alonzo, grinning. " I 
 ate so many berries I got cramps." 
 
 " Us, too," laughed Uncle Joe. " My feet air tender, 
 ridin' so long. We're goin' back." 
 
 " Might as well jine ye, then," said Woodson. 
 ^'Comin', Boyd?" 
 
 " Not fer awhile," answered Tom, pushing on. 
 
 He made his way along the lower levels, reveling 
 in the solitude and the surroundings, and his keen 
 eyes missed nothing. A mile from camp he suddenly 
 stopped and carefully parted the thick berry bushes. 
 In the soft soil were the prints of many horses, most 
 of them shod. Cautiously he followed the tracks and 
 in a few moments came to the edge of a small, heavily 
 grassed clearing, so well hidden by the brush and the 
 thick growth of the trees along the encircling, steep- 
 faced hills that its presence hardly would be suspected. 
 Closely cropped circles, each centered by the hole 
 made by a picket pin, told him the story; and when 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 245 
 
 he had located the sand-covered site of the fire, whose 
 ashes and sticks carefully had been removed, an 
 imprint in the soft clay brought a smile to his face. 
 
 "Following us close," he muttered. "Lord help 
 any Mexicans that wander away from the wagons. 
 Nearer twenty than what they said." He slipped 
 along the edge of the pasture and found where the 
 party had left the little ravine. Following the trail 
 he soon came to another matted growth of under- 
 brush, and then he heard the barely audible stamp of 
 a horse. Creeping forward he wormed his way 
 through the greener brush and finally peered through 
 an opening among the stems and branches. A dozen 
 Texans wero lolling on the floor of the ravine, and 
 he knew that the others were doing sentry duty. 
 
 A shadow passed him and he froze, and then re- 
 laxed as Burch came into sight. It was needful that 
 he make no mistake in how he made his presence 
 known, for a careless hail might draw a volley. 
 
 Burch passed him treading softly and when the 
 man's back was turned to him Tom called out in a 
 low voice. "Burch! Don't shoot!" 
 
 "Boyd!" exclaimed the sentry. "Cussed if ye 
 ain't a good un, gittin' whar ye air an' me not knowin* 
 it. What ye doin' hyar ? " 
 
 " Scoutin' fer Injuns. Glad ter see ye." 
 
 Burch stepped to the edge of the ravine. " Friend 
 o' mine comin' down, name o' Boyd." He turned. 
 " Go down an' meet th' boys; thar honin' fer to shake 
 han's with th' kiyote that hit Armijo. Be with ye 
 soon." 
 
 Tom descended and shook hands with the smihng 
 
246 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 Texans and in a few moments was at home in the 
 camp. He noticed that they all had the Colt re- 
 volving* rifles which his friend Jarvis, back in St. 
 Louis, had condemned. Each man wore two pistols 
 of the same make, and most of them carried heavy- 
 skinning knives inside their boot legs. 
 
 " I heard tell them rifles warn't o' much account," 
 he observed. 
 
 " Wall, they ain't as good as they might be," con- 
 fessed a lanky Texan, "if thar used careless an' git 
 too hot. A Hawken will out-shoot 'em; but we 
 mostly fight on hossback, an' like ter git purty clost. 
 Take them greasers we run inter; we didn't pull trig- 
 ger till we war a hundred paces away, an' by th' time 
 we'd emptied th' rifles an' pulled pistols th' danged 
 fight war over. Th' Injuns don't like 'em worth a 
 cuss. That's a right smart rifle ye got thar, friend." 
 
 Tom passed it around and it was duly admired. 
 Then the guard was changed and Burch and Flint 
 appeared. 
 
 " You fellers air stickin' purty clost ter us," observed 
 Tom. 
 
 " But not as clost as th' greasers air," laughed 
 Flint. "Danged if we kin ketch one o' *em away 
 from th' waggins." 
 
 "That's jest as well," replied Tom. "More'n half 
 of 'em hate Armijo as much as we do. If ye pick 'em 
 ofT careless yer bound ter make mistakes. Thar's 
 one gang that's fer him strong, an' 'twon't be long 
 before they split from th' others an' stand out so thar 
 won't be no mistakin' 'em. They'll be trailin' me an' 
 Hank in a bunch. We're aimin' ter sHp away an' head 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 247 
 
 fer Bent's some place between hyar an' the Upper 
 Spring." 
 
 "Thought ye was goin' ter Santa Fe," said Burch 
 in surprise. "If yer goin' ter Bent's ye should 'a' 
 left th' train at th' Crossin'." 
 
 "I'm goin' ter Santa Fe," replied Tom, "but thar's 
 some folks that air anxious ter see me. If they larn 
 I'm thar I'll likely be stood ag'in a wall; an' Armijo'U 
 add my ears ter his c'llection. We got ter throw 'em 
 oK our trail." He smiled grimly around the circle. 
 " I don't want Salezar ter larn I'm in this part o' the 
 country, fer I want ter git my paws on him." 
 
 At the mention of that name the eyes of the leader 
 flamed with flickering fires and he leaned slightly 
 forward, unable to conceal his eagerness. " Whar ye 
 aimin* ter leave th' caravan, friend?" he asked. 
 
 "Don't know jest yet," answered Tom, "but I 
 know th' way we'll head. Ye know whar th' waggin 
 road crossed McNees Crick? Wall, plumb north o' 
 that a crick empties inter th' Cimarron. Thar's a 
 dry gully jines th' crick at its mouth, makin' a V. 
 Th' gully war made by th' buffalers wearin' away th' 
 top soil, which let the rains cut inter th' sand beneath 
 an' wash it away. That buffaler trail is th' biggest 
 ye ever saw, an' it's worn down so deep that every 
 rain pours a stream along it. It's cut a gully back 
 fer a hundred paces to whar th' bu£faler wallers have 
 turned a little pasture inter a swamp when it rains, 
 Clost to its upper end is a hill, whar my partner built 
 a cache about ten years back. He says th' pit could 
 be easy seen when he war thar last." 
 
 "We're aimin' ter head fer Bent's as soon as th* 
 
248 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 caravan gits too fur along," said the leader, who not 
 long since had returned from the lepers' hospital, used 
 as a prison in his case, in Mexico City, His bitterness 
 had seared him to the soul and Tom thought it 
 strange that he so easily would forego the desire for 
 revenge, the flames of which intermittently flickered 
 in his eyes. " I've been wonderin' about th' best an* 
 straightest way to Bent's, with water on it. Yer 
 pardner says that's th' best trail?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Tom. "An' it's th' best fer us in 
 another way. Thar's springs in th' river bed up thar 
 an' fer near a mile th' river's alius wet. Ye see, we. 
 got ter throw th' greasers off our trail, which will be 
 too danged plain, with two bosses an' eight mules. 
 I'd swap th' eight mules fer two bosses, seein' as how 
 we're fixed, but I dassn't make th* play, fer everybody 
 in th' caravan would larn of it. Come ter think of it, 
 thar'll be more bosses an' mules; couple o' friends air 
 goin' with us. We change our packs tonight, buildin* 
 'em up with buffaler rugs we traded th' Comanches 
 fer, in case we part with our goods an' leave th* 
 caravan afterward. Th' two extra bosses would be 
 enough ter carry our grub an' supplies, an' they'd let 
 us make better time than th' mules would." 
 
 The Texans nodded and one of them glanced at 
 his leader while he spoke to Tom. " Reckon if ye got 
 them mules ter Bent's ye could sell 'em, or trade 'em 
 fer a couple o' bosses?" He hesitated and then said: 
 "We're runnin' powerful short o' powder an' lead.'* 
 
 "Th' caravan bein' so clost ter Santa Fe, it's got 
 more o' both than it needs," replied Tom. "If we 
 kin git ye some we'll leave it behind th' hill at that oldi 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 249 
 
 cache o' Hanks. If ye go that way, look fer it." He 
 grinned. " Hank an' me air aimin' ter carry some in 
 one of th* buffaler rug packs. Thar's two fifty-pound 
 pigs o' lead fastened to each o' th' cannon carriages, 
 an' they won't have no use fer more than one ter each 
 gun. 
 
 "Wish I war goin' with ye," growled the Texan 
 leader, his eyes flaming again. " I'm hankerin' ter git 
 Salezar's ears, fer I saw th' polecat c'llect Texan ears 
 on th' road from San Miguel ter 'Paso, ter keep th' 
 tally o' his prisoners straight. He strung 'em on a 
 wire, d — n him!" His face became livid with pas- 
 sion, and murder raised its grisly visage in his eyes. 
 
 Tom paled. "Yes," he said. "He took th' ears 
 o' a friend o' mine that war sick an' weak w^ith hunger 
 an' cold an' exhaustion, an' couldn't keep up. He 
 had traded most o' his clothes fer short rides on th' 
 mules o' th' guards. They killed him near Valencia, 
 an' his ears war took ter account fer him." 
 
 " Valencia ! " muttered the leader, pacing back and 
 forth like a panther, " I remember him ! Oh, 
 Christ ! " he cried, and then got hold of himself. 
 " Boyd, I'd give everythin' I own ter git my ban's 
 on that Salezar; an' go ter hell with a smile on my 
 face ! " Then he stiffened and reached convulsively 
 toward his holster, for the unmistakable twang of a 
 bowstring sounded from the bushes above his head. 
 The Texans leaped to their arms, but Tom stopped 
 them with a cry. 
 
 "Wait, boys! That's Hank — my pardner!" He 
 looked up toward the bushes. "Ye damned fool! 
 Show yerself ! " 
 
250 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 " Didn't hardly know if 'twar safe," chuckled Hank, 
 his head slowly arising above the tangle of leaves 
 and vines, a dozen paces from the place where the 
 bowstring had twanged. 
 
 "Whar's that huntin' party ye war nursin'?'* 
 quickly demanded Tom. 
 
 "Took 'em 'round on t'other side o' th' camp, ast 
 'em ter hold my hoss, an' left 'em thar," chuckled 
 the plainsman, making his way down the hillside with 
 caution and silence that had become habitual. 
 
 "Boys," said Tom, "hyar's a 'dopted son o' th* 
 Piegan tribe o' th' Blackfeet, name o' Hank Marshall, 
 an' he's more Injun than any brave in th' tribe. Any- 
 how, I'd ruther have a Injun on my trail than him. 
 He's goin' with me ter Santa Fe; an' Salezar's shore 
 goin' ter need all his friends ! " 
 
 "Put her thar!" said the Texan leader. "If yer 
 lookin' fer help I'll jine ye, cussed if I won't!" 
 
 "Don't want no help that's strange ter Taos an* 
 Santer Fe," laughed Hank. "We got two Green 
 River boys, an' don't need no more ; don't hardly need 
 them, but Zeb wants his ha'r, an' I wants his ears, 
 ears bein' his pet joke." He looked at the leader. 
 "You boys run inter some 'Rapahoes? Thar's nigh 
 onter a dozen projectin' 'round these hills. Stumbled 
 acrost thar camp a-ways back. If I'd had one o' 
 them newfangled rifles ye got so many of, danged 
 if I wouldn't 'a' trailed 'em." He grinned expan- 
 sively. "They cleaned out a cache o' mine, three year 
 back, up on Big Sandy Crick, an' I ain't paid 'em fer 
 it yit." 
 
 "We shore do need powder an' lead," said the 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 2^ 
 
 leader thoughtfully. He turned to one of his men. 
 **Sam, reckon we kin part with pore Williams' rifle?" 
 
 " Seein' as we got three more extrys, reckon we 
 kin," answered Sam. " It oughter be worth a keg o' 
 powder an' a couple o' pigs o' lead." He walked over 
 to where their supplies were piled and returned with 
 a heavy Colt repeating rifle. " Hyar, Hank," he said, 
 handing it to the hunter. "Be keerful ter keep th' 
 powder from spillin' down 'round th' cap end; an' 
 don't empty her too fast after th' first few shots. 
 Hyar's th' mould, an' some caps. Git a Injun ter pay 
 fer pore Williams. She's full loaded, so look out." 
 
 The rifle was sheathed in a saddle scabbard and 
 Hank took it, looked from it to his own, weighing 
 them both. "Heavy as all git out," he remarked. 
 **Wall, 'twon't weigh nothin' when it's slung ter a 
 saddle. Might be handy purty soon. Much obliged, 
 friends. How we goin' ter git th' powder an' lead 
 ter ye?" 
 
 " I've arranged fer that," said Tom, picking up his 
 rifle. "Wall, good luck, boys. Remember us at 
 Bent's if ye git thar." 
 
 "Reckon it's you boys that need th' good luck," 
 grimly replied the leader. He watched the two visi- 
 tors until they were lost to sight in the brush and 
 then turned to his men, his eyes flaming again. 
 "Break camp, boys; we're crossin' th' river close by, 
 ter circle back ag'in farther up." 
 
 Tom and Hank, moving silently back toward the 
 encampment, had covered about half of the distance 
 when they heard a sudden burst of shots, yells, and 
 the thunder of hoofs. Running up the side of a little 
 
252 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 hill they peered over the top and flung themselves 
 down. Less than two hundred paces away a little 
 party of tenderfeet, with Patience Cooper in the 
 center, fought frightened horses as a band of nearly a 
 dozen Indians came charging straight for them across 
 the little clearing. As they looked one of the tender- 
 feet's horse went down, spilling its rider, and throw- 
 ing the group into still greater confusion. 
 
 "'Rapahoes!" snorted Hank, and his rifle spoke. 
 " One fer my cache ! " 
 
 The double-barreled rifle of his companion roared 
 twice and another warrior plunged from his horse, 
 while the third fought madly to keep his seat, but his 
 weakening grasp loosened and he rolled over and 
 over across the grass. Tom dropped the empty rifle 
 and started to rise, his hand leaping to the Colt re- 
 volver at his belt; but Hank, who had slipped the 
 newly-acquired repeating rifle from its sheath, poked 
 it into his friend's hand and fell to re-loading his 
 Hawken. " She's yore gal. Give 'em hell ! " he 
 grunted. 
 
 The deadly and unexpected attack from the little 
 hilltop created a diversion which for the moment 
 turned the thoughts of the savages from the tender- 
 feet in the open, and the charging line split to pass 
 the forlorn group and give its full attention to the 
 real menace; but as it hesitated the heavy, . regular 
 crashes of the revolving rifle rolled from the hill, its 
 lead always selecting the warrior nearest to the panic- 
 stricken group. Here an Indian went down, there a 
 horse; and with the cry " Tejanos!" the rest of the 
 savage band wheeled and dashed over the route the}^ 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 253 
 
 had come. The last warrior to reach the edge of 
 the pasture was for one instant silhouetted against the 
 sky on the edge of a ravine, and at that moment 
 Hank's rifle cracked. Throwing both arms up over 
 his head, he turned a backward flip from the horse 
 and sprawled inertly in a currant bush. Re-loading 
 as quickly as they could while on the run the two 
 plainsmen hastened to the group, and Tom, pulHng 
 Dr. Whiting from his horse, was within an inch 
 of strangling him when Patience's hands on his wrists 
 checked him. 
 
 " Six trusty knights ! " sneered the enraged plains- 
 man, hurling the doctor from him. " I said you were 
 six flashes. Ask a woman to go riding with you in a 
 country as broken as this, and as over-run with 
 Indians !" He took a step forward, seething with 
 rage, and ran his eyes over the speechless tenderfeet. 
 "Git back to camp, all of you! Miss Cooper goes 
 with us ! " Poised, tense, and enraged he watched 
 them go and did not know that Hank had run to the 
 little hilltop for the double-barreled rifle until the old 
 hunter returned with it, loaded its two barrels, capped 
 them and threw the weapon under his arm. At that 
 moment a burst of firing sounded from the north and 
 Hank cocked his head. 
 
 "Sounds like them Colt rifles," he remarked, and 
 then kicked himself figuratively, for at his words, his 
 two companions, almost in each other's arms, started, 
 stiffened, and stepped apart. Seeing that the damage 
 already was done. Hank placidly continued. "Is thar 
 another passel o' Texans loose 'round hyar, or has 
 our friends hit th' trail already?" 
 
254 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 "Yes," said Tom, quivering like a leaf. 
 
 Patience closed her eyes. "Yes," she sighed. 
 
 Hank scratched his head and frowned, very much 
 puzzled. "Shucks! thar ain't no doubt 'bout it» 
 a-tall. Course it is — an' I'm a danged old fool!" 
 
 "You're one of the four best men I ever knew," 
 said Patience, resting her hand on his arm. 
 
 Hank felt of the disgraceful, stubby beard on his 
 face, scowled at his blackened hands, and furtively 
 brushed at a bloodstain on his shirt. Then he wheeled 
 abruptly and strode off to look over the victims of 
 the little affray. When he turned again he saw 
 Patience and Tom going toward camp. Patience on 
 her horse and Tom striding at her side. Fixing the 
 strap to his own rifle he slung the weapon over his 
 shoulder and, with the double-barreled weapon bal- 
 anced expertly in his hands, slowly followed after to 
 act as a badly needed protector to them both. 
 
 Back in camp Tom handed Patience into her uncle's 
 care, looked at her in a way she would remember to 
 the end of her days, and hastened on to report to the 
 captain of the caravan. When he reached Woodson 
 he found Hank there before him, laughingly recount- 
 ing the fight. As Tom came up Hank stepped back 
 and slipped away, heading straight for the excited 
 group of tenderfeet at the other end of the encamp- 
 ment, and roughly pushed in among them. 
 
 " Look hyar, ye sick pups," he blurted. " My pard- 
 ner dassn't thrash any o' ye, or he'll mebby lose his 
 gal. Anybody hyar wantin' ter take advantage o' an 
 old man ? Huh ! Then open yer dumb ears ter this : 
 If I ketch airy one o* ye hangin* 'round Cooper's 
 
TEXAN SCOUTS 255 
 
 waggins, or even sayin' *how-de-do' to that gal, I'll 
 git ye if I has ter chase ye all the way back ter 
 Missoury ! " He spat at the doctor's feet, turned his 
 back and rambled over to where his trade goods were 
 piled. On the way he met Zeb, who scowled at him. 
 
 Hank pulled some black mops out of his pocket, 
 showed them, and shoved them back again. 
 
 " Hell ! " said Zeb, enviously. " Whar ye git 'em ? '* 
 
 "Found one on a currant bush," chuckled Hank, 
 and went on again. 
 
 Zeb placed his fists on his hips and scowled in 
 earnest. " I didn't know what that shootin' war, with 
 all th' hunters runnin' 'round. Dang him ! He alius 
 did have more luck ner brains ! " 
 
 Up at the captain's wagon Woodson nodded as his 
 companion finished speaking. " I reckon ye kin have 
 'most anythin' in this hyar camp, Boyd. Two bars o' 
 lead off'n th' cannon carriages, an' a keg o' powder? 
 Shore, I'll put th' powder in Cooper's little waggin, 
 an' ye kin help yerself ter th' lead when ye j^it th' 
 time." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE PASSING OP PEDRO 
 
 AFTER supper that night Hank and Tom sat 
 around their fire and soortnvere joined by Pedro, 
 who paid them effusive compHments about their defeat 
 of the Arapahoes. They squirmed under his heavy 
 "flattery and finally, in desperation, spoke of the secret 
 trail to Taos. His face beamed in the firelight and 
 he leaned eagerly forward. 
 
 "You have decide?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes," answered Tom. " Whar we goin' ter meet, 
 •-and what time?" 
 
 "Ah?" breathed Pedro. "To that have I geeve 
 mucho thought. Eet should be ear-rly, so we be far 
 :away by thee coming of thee sun. Ees eet not so?" 
 
 " Naw," growled Hank. " Folks air not sleepin' 
 •sound enough then. Nobody's goin' ter foller us. 
 Thar'll be lots o' 'em leavin' camp at night from now 
 ■on, tryin' ter beat each other ter th' customs fellers. 
 Two hours afore dawn is time enough. But we got 
 lots o' time ter figger that; we won't be ter th' Upper 
 :Spring fer two more days. Time enough then ter 
 talk about it." 
 
 "But, eet ees tonight!" exclaimed Pedro. *'Madre 
 de Dios! You teenk I mean near thee Upper 
 :Spreeng? No! No!" 
 
 " Mebby not; but that's whar we mean," said Tom. 
 256 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 2^7 
 
 "Think we're goin' pokin' along through this Injun 
 country fer two nights an' a day by ourselves? Th* 
 caravan gits ter Wilier Bar tomorrow night, an' 
 camps at th' Upper Spring, or Cold Spring, th' next 
 night. That puts us near fifty miles further on in 
 th* protection of th' caravan." 
 
 "No! No!" argued Pedro in despair. "Eet ees 
 too miicho reesk!" 
 
 "Of what?" demanded Tom, in surprise. 
 
 " Eet may be that Armijo send soldats to meet thee 
 tr-rain, lak other times. Sefiores, eet mus' be tonight! 
 Tonight eet mus' be ! " He looked around suddenly. 
 "But where ar-re thee cargas, thee packs? I do not 
 see them. What ees eet you do?" 
 
 "We put 'em outside th' corral," chuckled Tom 
 knowingly, " so folks will git used ter seeing 'em than 
 Tomorrow night we'll do th' same, an' do it ag'in at 
 th' Upper Spring. Somebody shore would see us if 
 we had ter pack 'em here an' sneak 'em through th* 
 camp. Ye should tell yer friends ter put thar packs 
 outside th' waggins, too. How we goin' ter git 
 through th' guards around th' camp?" 
 
 " By my fr-riends," answered Pedro. " But eet may 
 be too late at Cold Spreeng!" he expostulated. "Eef 
 thee soldats ar-re there — ah, senores! Eet ees ver* 
 bad. Cold Spreeng!" 
 
 " We ain't botherin' 'bout that," said Tom reassur- 
 ingly. "Hank kin scout on ahead o' us, an' if thaf 
 camped up thar we kin drop out o' th' train behind 
 any bend on th' way, an' take ter th' brush." 
 
 Pedro begged and pleaded, but to no avail. He 
 still was arguing when his two companions rolled up 
 
258 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 in their blankets and settled down to go to sleep. 
 Sadly he walked away, hiding his anger until well 
 out of their sight, and then hastened to his own fire 
 and sent three of his compatriots to watch the sleep- 
 ing pair. They had their watch for nothing, and 
 while they doggedly kept their eyes on the two plains- 
 men. Uncle Joe and his two wagoners were busy on 
 the other side of the camp, stowing merchandise in 
 the wagons and making false packs. This they found 
 easy to do without calHng upon many buffalo rugs, 
 for the goods had been packed in light boxes, over 
 which had been thrown skins and canvas. By taking 
 out the contents of the boxes and putting the con- 
 tainers back into their original wrappings the shapes 
 of the packs did not change. The pigs of lead, a keg 
 of powder and bundles of stones were wrapped in 
 pieces of old skins to give weight to the packs to 
 keep them from flopping at every step of the mules. 
 They did not start to work until Zeb Houghton and 
 Jim Ogden returned from their tour of guard duty and 
 took up another kind of guard duty near the wagons ; 
 and long before daylight awakened the encampment 
 the work was done and no one the wiser. Alonzo 
 Webb and Enoch Birdsall had taken care of the packs 
 belonging to Ogden and Houghton and everything 
 was in shape for quick action. 
 
 On the march again after an early breakfast the 
 caravan plodded along the trail to reach Willow Bar 
 in good time for the next night camp. As the wag- 
 ons rolled along the road following the course of 
 the Cimarron, Uncle Joe and Patience dropped back 
 to the rear guard, where Hank Marshall scowled at 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 259 
 
 Jim Ogden, but refrained from open hostilities. Hank 
 was glad to see them and entertained them mile after 
 mile with accounts of his life and experiences in the 
 great West. At times his imagination set a hard 
 pace for his vocabulary, but the latter managed to 
 keep up. The men exchanged tobacco off and on 
 and no one gave a second thought to what they were 
 doing. When Uncle Joe and Patience rode forward 
 again as the train drew near to the noon camping 
 place, Uncle Joe was poorer and Hghter by the loss 
 of a goodly sum in minted gold, while Hank was 
 richer and heavier. The balance was obtainable in 
 Santa Fe in the warehouse of a mutual friend. 
 
 The wagons hardly had left the noon camp when 
 a heavy rain storm burst upon them, with a blast of 
 cold air that quickly turned the rain into driving 
 sheets of hail. These storms were common along the 
 Cimarron and at times raged for two or three days. 
 The animals became frantic with fear and pain, and 
 the train was a scene of great confusion from one 
 end to the other. Alternate downpours of rain, sleet, 
 and heavy hailstones continued all the rest of the day 
 and the encampment at Willow Bar was one of sullen- 
 ness and discontent. The wind rose during the early 
 part of the night and sent the rain driving into the 
 wagons through every crack and crevice, and the 
 flapping and slapping and booming of wagon covers,, 
 added to the fury of the wind and the swish of the 
 downpour, filled the night with a tumult of noise. 
 The guards around the camp either crawled under 
 skins or crept back to their wagons, not able to see 
 three feet in the blackness. 
 
£6o "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 Tom and Hank had taken refuge under a great 
 Pittsburg wagon owned by Haviland and had fastened 
 buffalo rugs to its sides to shed some of the rain. As 
 soon as darkness set in and Pedro's spies found that 
 they could not see an arm's length from them and 
 were drenched and half frozen by the steady down- 
 pour, they fled from their posts and sought refuge 
 from the storm. It took very Httle to convince them 
 that the men they were to watch would stay where 
 they were until dawn or later, and they did not let 
 Pedro know of their deflection. 
 
 " Nine, ten, eleven," muttered the first of two men 
 leading packmules as they felt their way from wagon 
 to wagon. "This oughter be Haviland's, Zeb. Yep, 
 I kin feel thar skin walls." He bent down and raised 
 the lower edge of a skin. " Hank ! Tom ! " 
 
 "All right, Jim," came the low answer, and the two 
 partners, bundled in skins until they looked like noth- 
 ing human, crawled from their snug shelter and stood 
 up, their one and constant thought being for the 
 covers of the hammers of their heavy rifles. Hank 
 pushed ahead and the night swallowed up the little 
 party. 
 
 Uncle Joe raised himself on one elbow and peered 
 through a small opening in the canvas at the rear end 
 of his first huge wagon, and got a faceful of cold rain 
 before he could close the opening again. He had 
 done this a dozen times since dark. Muttering sleep- 
 ily he rolled up in his blankets and rugs and dozed 
 again, squirming down into the warm bed as vague 
 thoughts sped through his mind of what his friends 
 were going to face. 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 261 
 
 Suddenly the soft whinny of a horse sounded 
 squarely under him, and he bounced from the blankets 
 and crept to a crack where the canvas was nailed to 
 the tailboard of the wagon. "Hello!" he called. 
 "Hello!" 
 
 A low voice answered him and he shivered as a 
 trickle of cold rain rolled down his face. "Thought 
 you had given it up till tomorrow night. This is a 
 hell of a night, boys, to go wandering off from the 
 camp. Sure you won't get lost among th' hills?" 
 He chuckled at the reply and shivered again. " Sure 
 I'll tell her Bent's. Yes. No, she won't. What? 
 Look here, young man; she's plumb cured of tender- 
 feet. Yes, I remember everything. All right; good 
 luck, boys. God knows you'll need it ! " He listened 
 for a moment, heard no sounds of movement, and 
 called again. "What's th' matter?" There came no 
 answer and he crept back to his blankets, his teeth 
 chattering, and lay awake the rest of the night, 
 worrying. 
 
 Between the wagons and the road the little pack- 
 train waited, kept together by soft bird calls instead 
 of by sight. A plaintive, disheartened snipe whistled 
 close by and was answered in kind. Hank almost 
 bumped into Ogden before he saw him. They both 
 looked like drowned rats, the water slipping from 
 the buffalo hair and pouring from them in little rills. 
 
 "Ain't a guard in sight, or ruther feelin', fifty feet 
 each side o' th' road," Hank reported. "Bet every 
 blasted one o' 'em is back in camp. Mules all tied 
 together? Everybody hyar? All right. Off we go." 
 
 All night long the little atejo slopped down the 
 
262 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 streaming road, kept to it by the uncanny instinct 
 and the oft repeated cheeping and twittering of the 
 adopted son of the Blackfeet, who could perfectly 
 imitate any night bird he ever had heard; and he had 
 heard them all. Horses whinnied, mules brayed, 
 wolves and coyotes howled, foxes squalled, chip- 
 munks scolded, squirrels chattered and several other 
 animals performed solos in the dark at the head of 
 the little pack train, to be answered from the rear. 
 Anyone unfortunate enough to be camped at the edge 
 of the trail would have thought himself surrounded 
 by a menagerie. 
 
 With the first sullen sign of dawn Tom pushed on 
 ahead, reconnoitered the Upper Spring, found it de- 
 serted and went on, riding some hundreds of yards 
 from, but parallel to, the trail and soon came to Cold 
 Spring. Here he saw quantities of camp and riding 
 gear, abandoned firelocks, personal belongings, and 
 other things "forgotten" by the brave Armijo and 
 his army in their precipitate retreat from the Texans, 
 while the latter were still one hundred and fifty miles 
 away. Scouting in the vicinity for awhile he rode 
 back and met the little ate jo, which had been plodding 
 steadily on at its pace of three miles an hour; and all 
 the urging of which the men were capable would 
 not increase that speed. 
 
 At the Upper Spring, which poured into a ravine 
 and flowed toward the Cimarron a few miles to the 
 north, the wagon road drew farther from the river 
 and ran toward the Canadian ; and here the little party 
 left it to turn and twist over and around hills, ravines, 
 pastures and woods, and then slopped down the 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 263 
 
 middle of a storm-swollen rivulet. They turned up 
 one of its small feeders and followed it for half a mile 
 and then, crossing a little divide, struck another small 
 brook and splashed down it until they came to the 
 Cimarron. Here they threw into the river the use- 
 less contents of the false packs, distributed the sup- 
 plies among the mules, and pushed on again upstream 
 along the bank. 
 
 They now were well up on the headwaters of the 
 river and its width was negligible, although its storm- 
 fed torrent boiled and seethed and gave to it a false 
 fierceness. Their doubling and the hiding of their 
 trail in the streams had not been done so much for 
 the purpose of throwing the Mexicans off their track, 
 as to make their pursuers think they were trying to 
 throw them off. They knew that the Mexicans, upon 
 losing the tracks, would strike straight for the old 
 and now almost abandoned Indian trail for Bent's 
 Fort, 
 
 "We got about a ten-hour start on 'em," growled 
 Tom, " but they'll cut that down quick, once they git 
 goin'. Reckon I'll lay back aways an' slow 'em up 
 if they git hyar too soon." 
 
 Zeb and Jim wheeled their horses and without a 
 word accompanied him to the rear. 
 
 Hank, leading the bell mule, pushed on, looking 
 for the site of his old cache and for a good place to 
 cross the swollen stream, and he soon stopped at the 
 water's edge and howled like a wolf. In a few min- 
 utes his companions came up, reported no Mexicans 
 in sight, and unpacked the more perishable supplies. 
 These they carried across to the other bank, their 
 
264 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 horses swimming strongly and soon the mules were 
 ready to follow. Tom led off, entering the stream 
 with the picket rope of the bell mule fastened to his 
 saddle, and with his weapons, powder horn and "pos- 
 sible " sack high above his head. His horse breasted 
 the current strongly, quartering against it, and the 
 bell mule followed. After her, with a slight show of 
 hesitation, came the others, the three remaining hunt- 
 ers bringing up the rear. 
 
 As the atejo formed again and started forward Hank 
 hung back, peering into the stunted trees and brush 
 on the other side of the stream. 
 
 " Come on, Hank," said Tom. " What ye lookin* 
 fer? They warn't in sight." 
 
 "I war sorta hankerin' fer 'em ter show up," 
 growled Hank with deep regret. "That's plumb 
 center range from hyar, over thar. Wouldn't mind 
 takin' a couple o' cracks at 'em, out hyar by ourselves, 
 us four. Alius hate ter turn my tail ter yaller-bellies 
 like them varmints. I hate 'em next ter Crows ! " He 
 slowly turned his horse and fell in behind the last 
 mule, glancing back sorrowfully. Then he looked 
 ahead. " Thar's my ol' cache," he chuckled. 
 
 Before them on the right was an eroded hill with 
 steep sides, its flat top covered with a thick mass of 
 brush, berry bushes and scrub timber, and on its right 
 was a swamp, filled with pools and rank with vegeta- 
 tion. The dry wash marking the end of the great 
 buffalo trail was dry no longer, but poured out a 
 roiled, yellow-brown stream into the dirty waters of 
 the Cimarron. 
 
 Rounding the hill they stopped and exchanged 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 265 
 
 grins, for in a little horseshoe hollow two horses, with 
 pack saddles on their backs, stopped their grazing, 
 pulled to the end of their picket-ropes, and looked 
 inquiringly at the invaders. 
 
 "Thar's jest no understandin' th' ways o' Provi- 
 dence," chuckled Hank as he dismounted. " Hyar 
 we been a-wishin* an' a-wishin' fer a couple o' bosses 
 to take th' place o' these cold-'lasses mules, an' danged 
 if hyar they ain't, saddles an' all, right under our 
 noses." 
 
 While he went along the back trail on foot to a 
 point from where he could see the river, his com- 
 panions became busy. They pooled their supplies 
 and packed them securely on the Providence-provided 
 horses, put the rest on their own animals, picketed 
 the mules and removed the bell from the old mare, 
 tossing it aside so its warning tinkle would be stilled. 
 Signalling Hank, in a few minutes they were on their 
 way again along the faint and in many places totally 
 effaced trail leading over the wastes to the distant 
 trading post on the Arkansas. Coming to a rain- 
 water rivulet Hank sent them westward down its 
 middle while he rode splashingly upstream. Soon 
 coming to a tangle of brush he forced his horse to 
 take a few steps around it on the bank, returned to 
 the stream and then, holding squarely to its middle, 
 picked his way through the tangle and rode back to 
 rejoin his friends, having left behind him a sign of his 
 upward passing. In case Providence went to sleep 
 and took no more interest in his affairs, he had the 
 satisfaction of knowing that he had done what he 
 could to hide their trail. 
 
266 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 He found his friends waiting for him and he shook 
 his head as he joined them. "Danged if I Hke this 
 hyar hidin'," he growled, coming back to his pet 
 grievance. "I most gen'rally 'd ruther do it my- 
 self." 
 
 " But it ain't a question o' fighting," retorted Tom. 
 " We got ter hide our trail from now on in case some 
 greaser gits away, like they did from them Texans 
 back nigh th' Crossin', an' takes th' news in ter th* 
 settlements that we didn't go ter Bent's after we left 
 th' wagon road. Ye'll git all th' danged fightin' yer 
 lookin' fer afore ye puts Santa Fe behind ye — an' I'm 
 bettin' we'll all show our trails a hull lot worse afore 
 we git through ter Bent's. Come on; Turley's ranch 
 is a long ways off. If yer itchin' ter try that re- 
 peatin' rifle ye'll shore git th' chance ter, later." 
 
 Hank grinned guiltily and while he was not thor- 
 oughly convinced of the soundness of their flight, so 
 far as his outward appearances showed, he grunted a 
 little but pushed on and joined his partner. In a few 
 minutes he grinned again. 
 
 " I ain't never had th' chanct ter try fer six plumb- 
 centers without takin' th' rifle from my shoulder," 
 he remarked. "Jest wait till I take this hyar Colt 
 up in th' Crow country!" He chuckled with antici- 
 pated pleasures and then glanced sidewise at his part- 
 ner. "Say, Tom," he said, reminiscently; "who air 
 th' three other best men yer gal was thinkin' of, back 
 thar in that little clearin'?" 
 
 "What you mean?" demanded Tom, whirling in 
 his saddle, his face flushing under its tan. "An' she 
 ain't my gal, neither." 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 267 
 
 Hank chirped and twittered a bit. "Then who's 
 is she?" 
 
 "Don't know; but she won't like bein' called mine. 
 Ye oughtn't call her that." 
 
 "Not even atween us two?" 
 
 "Not never, a-tall." 
 
 "That so?" muttered Hank, a vague plan present- 
 ing itself to his mind, to be considered and used 
 later. " Huh ! I must be gittin' old an' worthless," 
 he mourned. " I been readin' signs fer more'n thirty- 
 year, an' I ain't never read none that war airy plainer, 
 arter them thievin' 'Rapahoes turned tail an' lit out. 
 Anyhow, I reckon mebby yer safe if ye keep on 
 tJnnkin' that she's yer gal." He scratched his chin. 
 "But who war th' other three?" 
 
 "Why, I do remember her saying something like 
 that," confessed Tom slowly, tingling as his memory 
 hurled the whole scene before him. " Reckon she 
 meant Uncle Joe an' her father." 
 
 " That accounts fer two o' 'em," said Hank, nodding 
 heavily; "but who in tarnation is th' third?" 
 
 " Don't know," grunted Tom. 
 
 "Huh! Bet he's that stuck-up, no-'count doctor 
 feller. Yeah; that's who it is." He glanced slyly at 
 his frowning friend. "Told ye I war gettin' old an' 
 worthless. Gosh! an' she's goin' all th' rest o' th' 
 way ter Santer Fe with him ! " He slapped his horse 
 and growled in mock anxiety. " We better git a-goin' 
 an' not loaf Hke we air. Santer Fe's a long ways off ! " 
 
 Two miles further on they turned up a little branch 
 of the stream and Hank, stopping his horse, threw up 
 his hand. " Listen ! " he cried. 
 
26g "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 Four pairs of keen ears sifted the noises of the inter- 
 mittent wind and three pairs of eyes turned to regard 
 their companion. 
 
 "What ye reckon ye heard?" curiously asked Zeb. 
 
 "I'd take my oath I heard riflle shots — a little bust 
 o' 'em," replied Hank. "Thar ain't no questionin' it; 
 I am gittin' old. Come along; we'll keep ter th' 
 water fur's we kin, anyhow." 
 
 Back at the encampment of the caravan dawn 
 found the animals stampeded, and considerable time 
 elapsed before they were collected and before the 
 absence of Tom and his friends was noticed. Then, 
 with many maledictions, Pedro rallied his friends and 
 set out along the wagon road, following a trail easily 
 seen notwithstanding the rain which had beaten at 
 the telltale tracks all night. Mile after mile unrolled 
 behind them, saturated with Spanish curses; miles 
 covered with all the vengeful ferocity and eagerness 
 of Apaches. The score of Mexicans were well-armed, 
 having spent the winter in the Missouri settlements 
 and procured the best weapons to be had there. The 
 Upper Spring came near and was put behind in a 
 shower of hoof-thrown mud, and without pause they 
 followed the tracks leading into the rough country, 
 like hounds unleashed. They were five to one, and 
 these odds were deemed sufficient in a sudden night 
 attack. There would be satisfaction, glory, and profits 
 for them all. The Governor had demanded Tom 
 Boyd's ears, on him if possible, without him if they 
 could be obtained in no other way ; the Governor was 
 powerful and would reward loyal and zealous service. 
 
THE PASSING OF PEDRO 269 
 
 They followed the trail of the atejo around hills, 
 through ravines, and past woods, an advance guard 
 of three men feeling the way. Then the tracks ceased 
 at the side of a creek ; but they did not pause. Choos- 
 ing the straightest practical route to the Cimarron at 
 the beginning of the old Indian trail running north- 
 ward to the Arkansas, they kept on. At last they 
 saw the muddy flood of the river and as they reached 
 its banks and read them at a glance they sent up an 
 exultant shout. Holding their weapons and powder 
 well above the backs of their swimming horses they 
 reached the further side and took up the trail again. 
 Pedro dashed forward and flung up an arm and as 
 his followers stopped in answer he cheered them with 
 a Spanish oration, in which Pedro played no minor 
 part. "Pedro never loses!" he boasted. "Before 
 noon we will be on the heels of the gringo dogs and 
 our scouts will find their camp in the night. Before 
 another sun rises in the heavens we will have their 
 ears at our belts and their trade goods on the way to 
 the Valley of Taos ! Forward, my braves ! Forward, 
 my warriors! Pedro leads you to glory!" 
 
 They snapped forward in their saddles as the spurs 
 went home, their rifles at the ready, their advance 
 guard steadily forging ahead, and thundered along 
 the tracks of the fleeing atejo. Rounding the little 
 hill with its frowsy cap of brush and scrub timber, 
 they received a stunning surprise; for dropping down 
 the steep bank as if from the sky charged twenty- 
 odd vengeful Texans, their repeating rifles cracking 
 like the roll of a drum. Pedro's exultant face be- 
 came a sickly yellow, his burning eyes in an instant 
 
£70 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 changed to glass, and his boasting words were 
 slashed across by the death rattle in his throat. Vol- 
 ley after volley crashed and roared as the charging 
 Texans wheeled to charge back again, and as they 
 turned once more on the hillside they pulled up sharp- 
 ly and viewed the havoc of their deadly work. No 
 man was left to carry tales, and Pedro had spoken 
 with prophetic vision, for he had indeed led his war- 
 riors to glory — and oblivion. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 CIRCLING back to the river so as not to lose its 
 guidance nor stray too far out of the direct 
 course, they reached its desolate banks at nightfall 
 and camped at the base of a low hill on the top of 
 which grew dense masses of greasewood. Zeb had 
 shot a black-tailed deer on their way to the river and 
 their supper that night, so far as the meat was con- 
 cerned, would have delighted the palate of an epicure. 
 Cooked over the hot, sputtering, short-lived grease- 
 wood, which constantly was added, and kept on the 
 windward side of the blaze, the flavor of the meat was 
 very little affected and they gorged, hunter-like, until 
 they could eat no more; and partly smoked some of 
 the remaining meat to have against some pressing 
 need. 
 
 As the stream dwindled the nature of its banks and 
 of the surrounding country changed, the vegetation 
 steadily becoming more desert-like. White chalk 
 cliffs arose like painted eyebrows from the tops of the 
 banks, where erosion had revealed them; loose and 
 disintegrating sandstone lay about the broken plain 
 in myriads of shapes. Stunted and dead cottonwoods 
 added their touch to the general scene, leaning this 
 way and that, weird, uncanny, ghostlike. The drab 
 sagebrush and the green fan of the palmetto became 
 
 371 
 
2T2_ "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 steadily more common, the latter figuring largely in 
 the daily Hfe of the Mexicans, for its mashed, sapon- 
 aceous roots provided them with their pulpy amole, 
 which was an excellent substitute for soap. Prickly 
 pears, Spanish bayonets, masses of greasewood bushes 
 and scattering fringes of short grama grass completed 
 the carpeting of the desolate plain. 
 
 Doggedly they pushed on, thankful for the heavy 
 rains of the last two days, which had reached even 
 here and left little pools of bad-tasting water for them- 
 selves and their beasts. At noon they stopped and 
 built a fire of stunted cedar, for in daylight its telltale 
 flames told nothing. They cooked another black- 
 tailed deer, smoked some of the meat, and ran bullets 
 until they had all of the latter they could possibly 
 use. On again toward the Canadian until nightfall, 
 lighting no fire, but eating the meat they had cooked 
 at noon. They arranged a four-shift watch and 
 passed a peaceful night. In their range of vision 
 were Raton Peak, Pike's Peak, and the Wet Moun- 
 tain, that paradise for hunters; the twin Spanish 
 Peaks with their caps of snow, and behind these tow- 
 ering sentries loomed the sullen bulk of a great moun- 
 tain range under a thin streak of glittering white. 
 
 At any distance their appearance hardly would tell 
 whether they were white hunters or Indians from 
 Bent's, since their garb was a mixture of both and 
 their skins so tanned, their hair so long as to cause 
 grave doubts. More than once in that country two 
 white men have exchanged shots, each taking the 
 other for an Indian. At Bent's Fort on the Arkansas 
 there were stray Indians from far-off tribes, and they 
 
"'SPRESS FROM BENT'S" 273 
 
 dressed in what they could get; and at The Pueblo, 
 that little trading post farther up on the Arkansas, 
 Indians and whites lived together and intermarried. 
 Not one of the four but could speak more than one 
 savage dialect; and Tom's three companions pos- 
 sessed an Indian vocabulary which left little to be 
 desired. If it came to a test which might prove too 
 severe for him he could be dumb, and fall back on the 
 sign language. 
 
 At last the Canadian was reached and passed, and 
 Hank led them unerringly up the valley of a little 
 feeding stream which poured its crystal flood down 
 the gorges of a mountain range now almost over their 
 heads. Coming to a rocky bowl scooped out of the 
 sheer, overhanging wall at a bend, he built a fire of 
 dry wood that was safely screened, and from his " pos- 
 sible " sack he took various leaves and stems and 
 roots he had collected on the way. Four white men 
 looking more like Indians had entered that little 
 valley just before dusk. In the morning at dawn two 
 white men, a Blackfoot and a Delaware, a hunting 
 party from Bent's Fort with messages for Bent's little 
 Vermajo ranch, located in a mountain valley, left the 
 ravine and followed a little-used Ute trail that their 
 leader knew well. Hank wore the Blackfoot distinc- 
 tive double part in his hair just above the forehead, 
 the isolated tuft pulled down to the bridge of his 
 nose, and fastened to his buckskin trousers were thin 
 strips of beadwork made by Blackfoot squaws. 
 
 The Mexican herder working for Bent uneasily: 
 watched them as they rode up to his makeshift lean-to 
 and demanded a change of horses, a report of his 
 
274 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Stewardship, and the use of his fire. They were not 
 bad fellows and were generous with their heavenly 
 tobacco, and finally his uneasiness wore away and he 
 gossiped with them while the night more and more 
 shut in his lavish fire and seemed to soften the guttural 
 polyglot of the two Indians. The white men did 
 most of the talking, as was usual, and could make 
 themselves understood in the herder's bastard Span- 
 ish and they answered sociably his numerous ques- 
 tions. Had they heard of the great Tejano army 
 marching to avenge the terrible defeat inflicted by 
 the brave Armijo on their swaggering vanguard? 
 It was the great subject from the upper end of the 
 Valley of Taos to the last settlement along the Rio 
 Grande and the Pecos. The ignoble dogs of Tejanos 
 had basely murdered the brave Mexican scouting 
 party near the Cimarron Crossing of the Arkansas. 
 What could the soldats of Mexico do, attacked in their 
 sleep ? Most of the murdered soldats had come from 
 the Valley of Taos, which always had been friendly 
 to Texas. Was it true that the Tejanos spit fire on 
 dry nights and could kill a full-grown bull buffalo 
 with their bare hands? Ah, they were devils and the 
 sons of devils, those Tejanos; and at night all doors 
 were tightly barred in the settlements and strange 
 Americans regarded with suspicion. 
 
 Some nights later, down the rough, steep sides of 
 the Arroyo Hondo, through which trickled a ribbon 
 of water from a recent rain, four Indians rode care- 
 fully, leading two pack animals. They were two 
 Arapahoes, a Blackfoot, and a Delaware, and they fol- 
 lowed the ravine and soon came in sight of the little 
 
'''SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 275 
 
 mountain pasture, dotted with cedar bushes and 
 sparsely covered with grass, which sloped gently down 
 the mountain side. In the fading twilight the so-called 
 ranch stood vaguely outlined, the nature of its log 
 and adobe walls indiscernible, its mill and the still 
 house looming vaguely over the main building against 
 the darker background of the slope. The faint smell 
 of sour mash almost hid the mealy odor of the grist 
 mill; hogs grunted in the little corral by the fenced- 
 in garden, while an occasional bleating of sheep came 
 from the same enclosure. Dark shapes moved over 
 the cedar-brush pasture and the frequent stamping 
 of hoofs told they were either horses or mules. High 
 up near the roof of the composite building were nar- 
 row oblongs of faint radiance, where feeble candle 
 light shone through the little squares of gypsum, so 
 much used in that country in place of window glass. 
 As the four new-comers smilingly looked at the com- 
 fortable building the foot-compelling strains of a cheap 
 violin squeaked and rasped resinously from the living 
 quarters and a French-Canadian, far from home, burst 
 ecstatically into song. Dreaming chickens cackled 
 briefly and a sleepy rooster complained in restrained 
 indignation, while the rocky mountain side relayed 
 the distant howl of a prowling coyote. 
 
 The leader drew the flap over the ultra-modern rifle 
 in its sheath at his leg and glanced back at his com- 
 panions. 
 
 "Wall," he growled, "hyar we air; we're plumb 
 inter it, now." 
 
 "Up ter our scalp-locks," came a grunted reply. 
 
 " Hell ! 'Tain't th' fust time they've been in danger. 
 
276 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 They'll stand a lot o' takin'/' chuckled another voice. 
 He softly imitated a coyote and the sleepy inmates of 
 the hen house burst into a frightened chorus. 
 
 "Hain't ye got no sense?" asked Hank, reprovingly. 
 
 ''^Wouldn't be hyar if I had. I smell sour mash. 
 Let's go on." 
 
 Hank kneed his mount, no longer the one which 
 had become so well known to many eyes on the long 
 wagon trail, and led the way down to the door. At 
 the soft confusion of guttural tongues outside the 
 house the door opened and Turley, the proprietor, 
 stood framed in the dim light behind him. 
 
 "'Spress from Sefior Bent's," said the nearest In- 
 dian, walking forward. "It's Hank Marshall," he 
 whispered. "Want ter palaver with ye, Turley." 
 
 " Want's more whiskey, I reckon," growled Turley. 
 " Hobble yer bosses on th' pasture. Ye kin roll up 
 'most anywhar ye like. Fed yit?" 
 
 " Si, senor; muchos gracias" answered the Indian. 
 *'Senor! cary mucho aguardiente grano!" 
 
 "Oh, ye do?" sarcastically replied Turley. 
 *' Whiskey, huh? Wall, ye'll do better without it. 
 What's Bent want o' me?" 
 
 "Aguardiente de grano, senor!'* 
 
 Turley chuckled. " He does, hey? I say he picks 
 damned poor messengers to send fer whiskey! 
 We'll talk about that tomorrow. Roll up some'rs in 
 yer blankets an' don't pester me." He stepped back 
 and the door slammed in the eager, pleading face of 
 the Blackfoot, to a chorus of disappointed grunts. 
 The rebuffed savage timidly knocked on the door and 
 it was flung open, Turley glaring down at him. " Ye 
 
*"SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 277 
 
 heard what I said, an' ye savvied it ! Reckon I want 
 four drunk Injuns 'round hyar all night? We ain't 
 a-goin' ter have no damned nonsense. Take yer ani- 
 mals off ter th' pasture an' camp down by th' crick! 
 Vamoose!" 
 
 The picture of pugnacity, he stood in the door and 
 watched them slowly, sullenly obey him, and then 
 he slammed it again, swearing under his breath. 
 " Quickest way ter git murdered is ter give them In- 
 juns likker!" he growled. 
 
 "Mais, oui," said the French-Canadian, placing his 
 fiddle back under his chin, and the stirring air went 
 on again. 
 
 Three hours before dawn Hank awoke and without 
 moving his body let his eyes rove over the dark pas- 
 ture. Then Hke a flash of light his heavy pistol 
 jammed into the dark blotch almost at his side, and 
 he growled a throaty inquiry. 
 
 "It's me, Hank," came the soft reply. "Take that 
 damned thing away! What's up?" 
 
 Three other pairs of eyes were turned on them and 
 then their owners stirred a little and griinted saluta- 
 tions, and made slight rustlings as their hands re- 
 placed what they had held. 
 
 " Nothin', only a courtin' party," chuckled Hank. 
 
 "Wall, I've heard tell o' courtin' parties," rumi- 
 nated Turley; "but never one made up like Injuns and 
 armed to th' teeth. Might know some damned fool 
 thing war afoot when yer mixed up in it. Who ye 
 courtin', at yer time o' life? Somebody's wife?" 
 
 "We're aimin' fer Santer Fe," said Hank. "Got 
 ter have help ter git thar th' way we wants. Them 
 
278 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 Texans has made it hard fer us, a-stirrin' up every- 
 thin' like they has." 
 
 "Whar'd ye git yer hosses?" anxiously demanded 
 Turley. 
 
 " Inderpendence, Missoury," innocently answered 
 Hank, his grin lost in the darkness. 
 
 "Then ye come over th* wagon trail, an' up th' 
 Arkansas?" 
 
 "Over th' wagon trail an' up th' Cimarron, with 
 th' second caravan o' traders. Come nigh straight 
 acrost from Cold Spring." 
 
 "Wall, I'll be damned!" muttered Turley. Then 
 he snorted. "Ain't ye got no sense, ye Root Digger? 
 Everybody in th' train'll know them hosses ! " 
 
 " We swapped 'em at Bent's rancho on th' Vermajo 
 — good gosh ! Two o' 'em come from them Texans ! " 
 
 "They didn't have no brands," said Tom. "I 
 heard 'em say somethin' about gettin' some at Bent's. 
 We got ter risk it, anyhow. It'll be like addin' a 
 spoonful o' freight ter a wagon load." 
 
 Hank's mind was running in a groove that he had 
 been gouging deeper and longer hour after hour and 
 he refused to be sidetracked by any question con- 
 cerning the horses they had changed. "We want 
 ter swap hosses ag'in an' borry some rags fer clothes; 
 an' before daylight, too." 
 
 Tom arose on one elbow. "That's all right, fur's 
 it goes ; only it don't go no-whar," he declared. " We 
 want ter git rid o' these hosses, an' we want th' 
 clothes; but that ain't all. We want a job, Turley. 
 Need any mule wranglers ter take some freight inter 
 Santer Fe?" 
 
'''SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 279 
 
 "Day after tomorrow," answered Turley. "We 
 got ter git rid o' these animals afore then, ye got 
 ter git shet o' 'em afore mornin'. I'll send Jacques 
 out ter take 'em away as soon as I go back ter th' 
 house. Arter he leaves with 'em I'll bring ye some 
 ol' clothes so ye'll look a little different from them 
 four fools that swapped bosses at Bent's rancho. Th' 
 peon up thar won't git away, nor mebby see nobody 
 fer weeks; but we better take th' pelt afore th' meat 
 spiles under it. I got some bosses th' Utes stole 
 from th' 'Rapahoes. We stole 'em from th* Utes. 
 They ain't marked, an' they ain't knowed down in 
 th' valley." 
 
 " But we'll still be four," commented Tom, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 "That's shore a plain trail," said Jim Ogden. 
 "Here: You an' Hank take a mule apiece an' go 
 back th' way we come, fur a spell. Me an' Zeb kin 
 freight whiskey with Turley's ate jo, an' meet ye along 
 th' trail some'rs, or in Santer Fe, at th' warehouse. 
 Ye kin load yer mules with faggots ter be sold in 
 town, an' tag outer our mule train fer society 
 an' pertection. Yer rifles kin be hid under th' 
 faggots." 
 
 " We'll be unpackin' th' mules noon an' night," 
 replied Tom. "How 'bout our rifles then?" 
 
 " Can't be did," grunted Hank. 
 
 " We got ter risk that peon seein' anybody ter talk 
 to," said Tom. "Anyhow, 'tain't nothin' unusual fer 
 him ter see fellers from th' fort. We'll go on with 
 th' atejo, after we make a few changes in our clothes, 
 an' ride Turley's bosses 'stead o' Bent's. But we 
 
28o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 can't jine that mule train as no party o' four. We got 
 ter lose that danged number, that's flat." 
 
 " You an' Hank," offered Zeb, " bein' Blackfoot an' 
 Delaware, kin be hunters from Bent's; me an' Jim, 
 bein' 'Rapahoes turned friendly, kin come from St. 
 Vrain's post. Th' South Platte, up thar,^ is th' 'Rapa- 
 hoe stampin' ground an' we both know it from one 
 end to t'other. That'll count fer all o' us havin' first- 
 class weapons. Somebody's shore goin' ter notice 
 them." 
 
 Turley nodded. "Yes; hyar's whar ye lose that 
 cussed four. You two 'Rapahoes git scarce afore 
 daylight, goin' on foot an' leavin' no trail. Come 
 back from th' way o' th' old Ute trail from th' Bayou 
 Salade. I'm runnin' a little herdin' up o' my bosses 
 on th' side o' th' mounting; they're scatterin' in th' 
 brush too much. Fer that I'll be needin' all my men 
 that ain't goin' as muleteers. I'll hire you boys, two 
 at a time, ter go 'long with th' atejo as guards. 
 Thar's thieves atween hyar an' Santer Fe that likes 
 Turley's whiskey an' ground meal. I'll give ye a 
 writin' ter my agent in town to pay ye off, an' ye'll 
 git through, all right. Do ye reckon ye'll have ter 
 git outer Santer Fe on th' jump? Seein' as how yer 
 so danged careful how ye git inter th' town, it may 
 be that ye ain't welcome a hull lot. Knowin' Hank 
 like I do, makes me suspicious." 
 
 "We'll mebby git out quicker'n scat," answered 
 Tom, chuckling. "They'll mebby be touchy about 
 strangers, with them Texans prowlin' 'round. If we 
 git ter goin' strong as a Texan raid an' they find out 
 that it's only four no-'count Injuns full o' Taos 
 
"'SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 281 
 
 lightnin', they'll mebby move fast. We may make 
 quite a ruckus afore we git through, if they find out 
 who we air." 
 
 "What th' hell ye aimin' ter do? Capture th' 
 town? " demanded Turley, unable to longer hold down 
 his curiosity. 
 
 "Aimin' ter git our trade goods money, see a young 
 lady, hang 'round till th' return caravan start back 
 fer th' States, an' mebby squar up fer a few o' them 
 Texans that didn't git ter Mexico City," answered 
 Tom. 
 
 "This hyar's th' Tom Boyd that slapped Armijo's 
 kiyote face," explained Hank. "We hears th' Gov- 
 ernor is lonesome fer his company." 
 
 " Great Jehovah yes ! " exclaimed Turley. " Boyd, 
 ye better jine that thar caravan from Bent's, meetin' 
 up with it at th' Crossin'. Armijo combed these 
 hyar mountings fer ye, an' watched my rancho fer 
 nigh a week. He'd 'most give his right hand ter git 
 a-holt o' you; an' if he does, you kin guess what'll 
 happen ter you!" He peered curiously at the young 
 American and shook his head. "I'm bettin' ye do 
 leave on th' jump, if yer lucky enough ter leave at 
 all. Ye'll need fresh bosses, another change o' clothes 
 an' a cache o' grub. Tell ye what," he said, turning 
 to Hank. " Ye know that little mounting valley whar 
 you an' me stopped fer two days, that time we war 
 helpin' find th' bosses that war run oE Bent's Vermajo 
 rancho? Wall, I'll fix it so these hyar bosses will be 
 waitin' fer ye up thar. I got some men I kin trust 
 as long as I'm playin' agin' th' greasers. I'll cache 
 ye some Dupont an' Galena, too," he offered, referring 
 
282 ''BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 to powder and lead. The latter came from Galena, 
 Illinois, and took its name from that place. 
 
 "An' forty pounds o' jerked meat a man," added 
 Hank. "We might have ter go clean up ter th* 
 South Park afore we dast turn fer Bent's. Hang it 
 on that thar dead ash we used afore, or clost by if 
 th' tree's down. We better leave ye some more bul- 
 lets as will fit our own weapons without no doubt. 
 We kin run more in th' warehouse in Santer Fe if 
 we need 'em. Keep yer Galena, Turley, an' leave 
 some patches, instid, along with our bullets." 
 
 " But we'll still be four arter we leave hyar," ob- 
 jected Jim. 
 
 "No, ye won't," replied Turley. "Ye'll show up 
 in pairs, ye'll jine in pairs, ye'll ride an' 'sociate in 
 pairs, an' thar'll be a dozen more mixin' up with 
 ye. Wall, talk it over among ye while I gits busy 
 afore it's light," and the friendly rancher was swal- 
 lowed up in the night. 
 
 A few minutes later Jacques, sleepy and grumbling, 
 loomed up out of the darkness, collected the six 
 horses and departed up the slope. Shortly after him 
 came Turley with a miscellaneous collection of odds 
 and ends of worn-out clothing and soon his friends 
 had exchanged a garment or two with him. Tom 
 and Hank parted with their buckskin shirts and now 
 wore coarse garments of Pueblo make; Zeb had a 
 Comanche leather jerkin and Jim wore a blue cotton 
 shirt patched with threadbare red flannel. They 
 bound bands of beadwork or soft tanned skin around 
 their foreheads, and Hank's hair proudly displayed 
 two iridescent bronze feathers from the tail of a 
 
'"SPRESS FROM BENT'S" 283^ 
 
 ^ - •-■ 
 
 rooster. If Joe Cooper, himself, had come face to 
 face with them he would have passed by without a 
 second glance. 
 
 Silently Zeb and Jim melted into the night, while 
 Tom and Hank arose and went around to the wall 
 of the still house, rolled up in their newly-acquired 
 blankets against the base of the adobe wall and slept 
 until discovered and awakened after dawn by one of 
 Turley's mill hands, who paid them a timid and gen- 
 uine respect. 
 
 They loafed around all day, watching the still 
 house with eager eyes. Their wordless pleading was 
 in vain, however, for Turley, frankly scowling at their 
 first appearance, totally ignored them thereafter. Just 
 before dusk two half-civihzed Arapahoes from St. 
 Vrain's South Platte trading post swung down the 
 mountain side, cast avaricious eyes on some horses 
 in the pasture, sniffed deeply at the still house, and 
 asked for whiskey. 
 
 "I'll give ye whiskey," said Turley after a 
 moment's thought, a grin spreading over his face, 
 "but I won't give it ter ye hyar. If ye want likker 
 I'll give ye a writin' ter my agent in Santer Fe, an' 
 he'll give ye all yer porous skins kin hold, an* a jug 
 ter take away with ye." 
 
 *'Si, senor! Si, senor! Muchos gracias!" 
 
 "Hold on thar! Hold yer bosses!" growled Tur- 
 ley. " Ye don't reckon I'm makin' ye no present, do 
 ye? Ye got ter earn that likker. If ye want it bad 
 enough ter escort my atejo ter th' city, it's yourn. 
 I'm combin' my bosses outer th' brush, an' I'm short- 
 handed. By gosh!" he chuckled, smihng broadly. 
 
284 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 "That's a couple more thirsty Injuns 'round hyar, 
 some'rs; hey, Jacques! Go find them watch dogs 
 o' th' still house. They won't be fur away, you kin 
 bet. These two an' them shore will scare th' thieves 
 plumb ter death all th' way ter town. I kin feel my 
 ha'r move!" 
 
 Jacques returned shortly with Bent's thirsty hire- 
 lings, and after some negotiations and the promise 
 of horses for them to ride, the Indians accepted his 
 offer. They showed a little reluctance until he had 
 given each of them a drink of his raw, new whiskey, 
 which seemed to serve as fuel to feed a fire already 
 flaming. The bargain struck, he ordered them fed 
 and let them sleep on the softest bit of ground they 
 could find around the rancho. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 SANTA FE 
 
 AFTER an early breakfast the atejo of nineteen 
 mules besides the mulera, or bell mule, was 
 brought out of the pasture and the aparejos, leather 
 bags stuffed with hay, thrown on their backs and 
 cinched fast with wide belts of woven sea-grass, which 
 were drawn so cruelly tight that they seemed almost 
 to cut the animals in two ; this cruelty was a necessary 
 one and saved them greater cruelties by holding the 
 packs from slipping and chafing them to the bone. 
 Groaning from the tightness of the cinches they stood 
 trembling while the huge cruppers were put into place 
 and breast straps tightened. Then the carga was 
 placed on them, the whiskey carriers loaded with a 
 cask on each side, firmly bound with rawhide ropes; 
 the meal carriers with nearly one hundred fifty pounds 
 in sacks on each side. While the mules winced now, 
 after they had become warmed up and the hay of 
 the aparejos packed to a better fit, they could travel 
 longer and carry the heavy burdens with greater ease 
 than if the cinches were slacked. The packing down 
 and shaping of the aparejo so loosened the cinch and 
 ropes that frequently it was necessary to stop and 
 tighten them all after a mile or so had been put be- 
 hind. 
 
 The atejo was in charge of a major-domo, five 
 28s 
 
286 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 arrieros, or muleteers and a cook, or the madre, who 
 usually went ahead and led the bell mule. All the 
 men rode well-trained horses, and both men and 
 horses from Turley's rancho were sleek, well fed and 
 contented, for the proprietor was known throughout 
 the valley, and beyond, for his kindness, honesty and 
 generosity; and he was repaid in kind, for his em- 
 ployees were faithful, loyal, and courageous in stand- 
 ing up for his rights and in defending his property. 
 Yet the time was to come some years hence when 
 his sterling qualities would be forgotten and he would 
 lose his life at the hands of the inhabitants of the 
 valley. 
 
 The atejo swiftly and dexterously packed, the two 
 pairs of bloodthirsty looking Indian guards divided 
 into advance and rear guard, the madre led the bell 
 mule down the slope and up the trail leading over 
 the low mountainous divide toward Ferdinand de 
 Taos, the grunting mules following in orderly file. 
 
 The trail wandered around gorges and bowlders 
 and among pine, cedar, and dwarf oaks and through 
 patches of service berries with their small, grapelike 
 fruit, and crossed numerous small rivulets carrying 
 off the water of the rainy season. Taos, as it was 
 improperly called, lay twelve miles distant at the foot 
 of the other side of the divide, and it was reached 
 shortly after noon without a stop on the way. The 
 "noonings" observed by the caravans were not al- 
 lowed in an atejo, nor were the mules permitted to 
 stop for even a moment while on the way, for if 
 allowed a moment's rest they promptly would lie 
 down, and in attempting to arise under their heavy 
 
SANTA FE 287 
 
 loads were likely to strain their loins so badly as to 
 render them forever unfit for work. To remove and 
 replace the packs would take too much time. Because 
 of the steady traveling the day's journey rarely ex- 
 ceeded five or six hours nor covered more than 
 twelve to fifteen miles. 
 
 Taos reached, the packs were removed and cov- 
 ered by the aparejos, each pile kept separate. Turned 
 out to graze with the bell mule, without picket rope 
 or hobbles, the animals would not leave her and could 
 be counted on, under ordinary circumstances, to be 
 found near camp and all together. 
 
 Taos, a miserable village of adobes, and the largest 
 town in the valley, had a population of a few Ameri- 
 can and Canadian trappers who had married Mexican 
 or Indian women; poor and ignorant Mexicans of all 
 grades except that of pure Spanish blood, and Indians 
 of all grades except, perhaps, those of pure Indian 
 blood. The mixed breed Indians had the more 
 courage of the two, having descended from the 
 Taosas, a tribe still inhabiting the near-by pueblo, 
 whose warlike tendencies were almost entirely dis- 
 played in defensive warfare in the holding of their 
 enormous, pyramidal, twin pueblos located on both 
 sides of a clear little stream. In the earlier days 
 marauding bands of Yutaws and an occasional war- 
 party of Cheyennes or Arapahoes had learned at a 
 terrible cost that the Pueblo de Taos was a nut far 
 beyond their cracking, and from these expeditions 
 into the rich and fertile valley but few returned. 
 
 Here was a good chance to test the worth of their 
 disguises, for the three older plainsmen were well- 
 
288 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 known to some of the Americajis and Canadians in 
 the village, Slaving been on long trips into the moun- 
 tains with a few of them. And so, after the meal of 
 frijoles, atole and jerked meat, the latter a great luxury 
 to Mexicans of the grade of arrieros, Hank and his 
 two Arapahoe companions left the little encampment 
 and wandered curiously about the streets, to the edi- 
 fication of uneasy townsfolk, whose conjectures leaned 
 toward the unpleasant. Ceran St. Vrain, on a visit 
 to the town, passed them close by but did not recog- 
 nize the men he had seen for days at a time at his 
 trading post on the South Platte. Simonds, a hunter 
 from Bent's Fort, passed within a foot of Hank and 
 did not know him; yet the two had spent a season 
 together in the Middle Park, lying just across the 
 mountain range west of Long's Peak. 
 
 Continuing on their way the next morning they 
 camped in the open valley for the night, and the next 
 day crossed a range of mountains. The next village 
 was El Embudo, a miserable collection of mud huts 
 at the end of a wretched trail. The Pueblo de San 
 Juan and the squalid, poverty-stricken village of La 
 Canada followed in turn. Everywhere they found 
 hatred and ill-disguised fear of the Texans roaming 
 beyond the Canadian. Next they reached the Pueblo 
 de Ohuqui and here found snug accommodations for 
 themselves and their animals in the little valley. 
 From the pueblo the trail lay through an arroyo over 
 another mountain and they camped part way down 
 its southeast face with Santa Fe sprawled out below 
 them. 
 
 Morning found them going down the sloping trail. 
 
SANTA FE 289 
 
 the Indian escort surreptitiously examining their 
 rifles, and in the evening they entered the collection 
 of mud houses honored by the name of San Francisco 
 de la Santa Fe, whose population of about three thou- 
 sand souls was reputed to be the poorest in worldly 
 wealth in the entire province of New Mexico; and, 
 judging from the numbers of openly run gambling 
 houses, rum shops and worse, the town might have 
 deserved the reputation of being the poorest in morals 
 and spiritual wealth. 
 
 Sprawled out under the side of the mountain, its 
 mud houses of a single story, its barracks, calabozo 
 and even the "palace" of the governor made of mud, 
 with scarcely a pane of glass in the whole town; its 
 narrow streets littered with garbage and rubbish; 
 with more than two-thirds of its population bare- 
 footed and unkempt, a mixture of Spaniards and 
 Indians for generations, in which blending the baser 
 parts of their natures seemed singularly fitted to sur- 
 vive; with cringing, starving dogs everywhere; full 
 of beggars, filthy and in most cases disgustingly dis- 
 eased, with hands outstretched for alms, as ready to 
 curse the tight of purse as to bless the generous, and 
 both to no avail; with its domineering soldiery with- 
 out a pair of shoes between them, its arrogant officers 
 in shiny, nondescript uniforms and tarnished gilt, with 
 huge swords and massive spurs, to lead the unshod 
 mob of privates into cowardly retreat or leave them 
 to be slaughtered by their Indian foes, whose lances 
 and bows were superior in accuracy and execution 
 to the ancient firelocks so often lacking in necessary 
 parts ; reputed to be founded on the ruins of a pueblo 
 
290 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 which had flourished centuries before the later "city" 
 and no doubt was its superior in everything but 
 shameless immorahty. There, under Sante Fe moun- 
 tain and the pure and almost cloudless blue sky, along 
 the little mountain stream of the same name, lay 
 Santa Fe, the capital of the department of New Mex- 
 ico, and the home of her vainglorious, pompous, good- 
 looking, and brutal governor; Santa Fe, the greatest 
 glass jewel in a crown of tin; Santa Fe, the customs 
 gate and the disappointing end of a long, hard trail. 
 Through the even more filthy streets of the pov- 
 erty-stricken outskirts of the town went the little 
 atejo, disputing right-of-way in the narrow, porch- 
 crowded thoroughfares with hoja (corn husk) sellers 
 and huge burro loads of pine and cedar faggots gath- 
 ered from the near-by mountain; past the square 
 where the mud hovels of the soldiers lay; past a mud 
 church whose tall spire seemed ever to be stretching 
 away from the smells below; past odorous hog stys, 
 crude mule corrals with their scarred and mutilated 
 creatures, and sheep pens, and groups of avid cock- 
 fighters; past open doors through which the half- 
 breed women, clothed in a simple garment hanging 
 from the shoulders, could be seen cooking frijoles or 
 the thin, watery atole and hovering around the flat 
 stones which served for stoves; past these and worse 
 plodded the atejo, the shrewd mules braying their 
 delight at a hard journey almost ended. Sullen 
 Indians, apologetic Mexicans, swaggering and too 
 often drunken soldiers gave way to them, while a 
 string of disputing, tail-tucking dogs followed at a 
 distance, ever wary, ever ready to wheel and run. 
 
SANTA FE . 2gT 
 
 Reaching the Plaza Pnhlica, which was so bare of 
 even a blade of grass or a solitary tree, and its ground 
 so scored and beaten and covered with rubbish to 
 suggest that it suffered the last stages of some earthly- 
 mange, they came to the real business section of the 
 town, where nearly every shop was owned by for- 
 eigners. Around this public plaza stood the archi- 
 tectural triumphs of the city. There was the palacia 
 of the governor, with its mud walls and its extended 
 roof supported on rough pine columns to form a great 
 porch; the custom-house, with its greedy, grafting 
 officials; the mud barracks connected to the atrocious 
 and much dreaded ca/a&o^o^ whose inmates had aban- 
 doned hope as they crossed its threshold; the mud 
 city hall, the military chapel, fast falling into ruin, 
 and a few dwellings. The interest attending the pass- 
 ing of the atejo increased a little as the pack train 
 crossed this square, for the Indian gtiards were con- 
 spicuous by their height and by the breadth of 
 shoulder, and the excellence of their well-kept weap- 
 ons. Strangers were drawing more critical attention 
 these days, with the Texan threat hanging over the 
 settlements along the Pecos and the Rio Grande. 
 Peon women and Indian squaws regarded the four 
 with apparent approval and as they left the square 
 and plunged into the poorer section again, compH- 
 ments and invitations reached their ears. Hopeless 
 mosos, or ill-paid servants, most of them kept in 
 actual slavery by debts they never could pay oiff be- 
 cause of the system of accounting used against them, 
 regarded the four enviously and yearned for their 
 freedom. 
 
■292 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Of the four Indians, a tall, strapping Delaware, 
 stooping to be less conspicuous, whose face was the 
 dirtiest in the atejo, suddenly stiffened and then forced 
 himself to relax into his former lazy slouch. The 
 rattle of an imported Dearborn, which at all times 
 had to be watched closely to keep its metal parts from 
 being stripped off and stolen, filled the street as the 
 vehicle rocked along the ruts toward them, drawn 
 by two good horses and driven by one Joseph Cooper, 
 of St. Louis, Missouri. At his side sat his niece, look- 
 ing with wondering and disapproving eyes about her, 
 her pretty face improved by its coat of healthy tan, 
 but marred somewhat by the look of worry it so 
 plainly showed. She appeared sad and wistful, but 
 at times her thoughts leaped far away and brought 
 her fleeting smiles so soft, so tender, as to banish the 
 look of worry and for an instant set a glory there. 
 
 Her glance took in the little pack train and its 
 stalwart guards and passed carelessly over the bend- 
 ing Delaware, and then returned to linger on him 
 while one might count five. Then he and the atejo 
 passed from sight and she looked ahead again, unsee- 
 ing, for her memory was racing along a wagon road, 
 and became a blank in a frightful, all-night storm. 
 At her sigh Uncle Joe glanced sidewise at her and 
 took a firmer grip on his vile native cigar, and silently 
 cursed the day she had left St. Louis. 
 
 " Load of wheat whiskey from th' rancho, I reckon," 
 he said, and pulled sharply on the reins to keep from 
 running over a hypnotized ring of cock-fighters. 
 "How your paw can live all th' year 'round in this 
 fester of a town is a puzzle to me. I'd rather be in 
 
SANTA FE 299 
 
 a St. Louis jail. Cigar?" he sneered, yanking it from 
 his mouth and regarding it with palpitant disgust. 
 He savagely hurled it from him. " Hell ! " 
 
 A tangle of arms and legs rolled out of a rum shop 
 and fought impotently in the dust of the street, and 
 sotted faces grinned down at them from the crowded 
 door. A flaky-skinned beggar slouched from behind 
 the corner of the building and held out an imploring 
 hand, which the driver's contemptuous denial turned 
 into a clenched fist afloat in a sea of Spanish maledic- 
 tions. 
 
 The pack train having reached its destination, the 
 two pairs of guards, clutching their "writin"' from 
 Turley, departed in hot haste to claim their pay- 
 ment, and not long thereafter, rifleless, wandered 
 about on foot to see the sights, gaping and curious. 
 In the hand of each was a whiskey jug, the cynosure 
 of all eyes. The Plaza Publica seemed to fascinate 
 them, for they spent most of their time there; and 
 when they passed the guard house in the palacio they 
 generously replied to the coaxing banter of the guard 
 ofif watch, and went on again with lightened jugs. 
 Here as elsewhere they sensed a poorly hidden feel- 
 ing of unrest, and hid their smiles; somewhere north 
 of Texas the Tejanos rode with vengeance in their 
 hearts and certain death in their heretic rifles. No 
 one knew how close they might be, or what moment 
 they would storm into the town behind their deadly 
 weapons. But the fear was largely apathetic, for 
 these people, between the Apache and Comanche raids 
 of year after year, had suckled fear from their 
 mothers' breasts. 
 
294 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Finally, apprehensive of the attention they were 
 receiving, the strange Indians left the plaza and 
 sought refuge with the mules of the atejo, to remain 
 there until after dark; and at their passing, groups 
 of excited women or quarreling children resumed their 
 gambling in the streets and all was serene again. 
 
 Gambling here was no fugitive evader of the law, 
 no crime to be enjoyed in secret, but was an institu- 
 tion legalized and flourishing. There even was a 
 public gaming house, where civil officers, traders, mer- 
 chants, travelers, and the clergy grouped avidly 
 around the monte tables and played at fever heat, 
 momentarily beyond the reach of any other obsession. 
 Regularly the governor and his wife graced the temple 
 of chance with their august persons and held informal 
 levees among the tables, making the place a Mecca 
 for favor-seekers and sycophants, and a golden treas- 
 ury for the " house." At this time, so soon after the 
 arrival of two great caravans and the collection of 
 so much impost, part of which stuck to every finger 
 that handled it, the play ran high throughout the 
 crowded room. 
 
 The round of festivities attending the arrival of 
 the wagon trains were not yet stilled, and fandangoes 
 nightly gave hilarity a safety valve. Great lumbering 
 carretas, their wheels cut from solid sections of tree 
 trunks and the whole vehicle devoid of even a single 
 scrap of precious iron, shrieked and rattled through 
 the dark streets, filled with shoddy cavaliers and 
 dazzling women, whose dresses seemed planned to 
 tempt the resolutions of a saint. Rehosa or lace 
 mantilla over full, rounded, dark and satin)- breasts; 
 
SANTA FE 295 
 
 fans wielded with an inherited art, to coax and repel 
 the victims of great and smouldering eyes of jet, which 
 melted one moment to blaze the next — this was the 
 magic segment of the clock's round. Now the eye- 
 sores of the squalid town were hidden from critical 
 sight, and the alluring softness and mystery of an 
 ancient Spanish city made one forget the almost un- 
 forgetable. Life and Death danced hand in hand; 
 Love and Hate bowed and courtesied, and the mad 
 green fires of Jealousy flickered or flared; while the 
 poverty and the sordid tragedies of the day gave 
 place to tingling Romance in the feathery night. 
 Violins and guitars caressed the darkness with throb- 
 bing strains, catching the breath, tingling the nerves 
 and turning dull flesh to pulsing ecstasy. 
 
 To the fandango came a flower of a far-off French- 
 American metropolis, strangely listless ; and here felt 
 her blood slowly transmute to wine and every nerve 
 become a harp-string to make sad music for her soul. 
 
 Small wonder that Armijo stood speechless in the 
 sight of such a one as she, and forgot to press his 
 questioning as to four who had somewhere left that 
 wagon train; small wonder that he gave no heed to 
 men in the presence of this exotic flower not yet un- 
 folded, in whose veins the French blood of the mother 
 coursed with the Saxon of the father, and played 
 strange and wondrous pranks in delicate features, 
 vivacious eyes, and hidden whimsicalities now begin- 
 ning to peek forth. 
 
 The coarse sensuality of the governor's face re- 
 vealed his thoughts to all the room; his eyes never 
 had kno'^n the need to mask the sheerness of their 
 
296 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 greedy passion, and in such a moment could not dis- 
 semble. What man like him, in his place and power, 
 with his nature, would glance twice at a lazy, dirty 
 Indian looking in through the open door, or know 
 that the murder beast was tearing at its moral fetters 
 in the Delaware's seething soul? Without again 
 taking his burning eyes from the woman before him 
 the governor tossed, by force of habit, a copper coin 
 through the door, alms to a beggar to bring him luck 
 from heaven to further his plans from hell. Nor did 
 he know the magazine his contemptuous gift had set 
 aflame, nor see the convulsive struggle between the 
 Delaware and three other Indians. The guard 
 laughed sneeringly at the fight they made, three 
 to one, over a single piece of copper: Who was to 
 know that they fought over a hollow piece of steel, 
 charged twice times three with leaden death? Who 
 was to read the desperation in that furious struggle, 
 where a beast-man fought like a fiend against his 
 closest friends? The struggling four reeled and 
 stumbled from the house, leading away a fiery tempest 
 and faded into the crooning night. That open door 
 nearly had been an Open Door, indeed! 
 
 Within the room the vivacity died in the woman's 
 eyes, the whimsicalities drew back in sudden panic 
 at the beast look on the governor's face; the swing 
 was gone from the strumming music, the rhythm from 
 the swaying dance. At once the festive room was 
 a pit of slime, the smiling faces but mocking masks, 
 and the dark shadow of a vulture descended like a 
 suffocating gas. Like a flash the wall dissolved to 
 show a long, clean trail, winding from Yesterday into 
 
SANTA FE 297 
 
 Tomorrow; restful glades and creeks of shining sands, 
 windswept prairies and a clear, blue sky; verdant 
 glades and miles of flowers — and a tall, dark youth 
 with smiling face, who worshiped reverently with 
 tender eyes. She drew herself up as white streaks 
 crossed her crimson cheeks like some darting rapier 
 blade, and, bowing coldly to the pompous governor, 
 stood rigidly erect and stared for a full half-minute 
 into his astonished eyes, and made them fall. De- 
 liberately and with unutterable scorn and loathing 
 she turned from him to her father and her uncle, 
 who forthwith shattered the absurd rules of pomp 
 by showing him their broad backs and leaving at 
 once. The room hushed as they walked toward the 
 door, but no man stayed them, for on their faces there 
 blazed the sign of Death. 
 
 Armijo, still staring after them, waved his hand 
 and three men slipped out by another door, to follow 
 and to learn what sanctuary that flower might choose. 
 As he wheeled about and snapped a profane order the 
 fiddlers and strummers stumbled into their stammer- 
 ing music; the dance went on again, with ragged 
 rhythm, Hke an automaton out of gear. 
 
 Down the dark street rumbled the Dearborn, rock- 
 ing perilously, the clatter of the running horses filling 
 the narrow way with clamor. Sprinting at top speed 
 behind it came barefoot soldiers : And then a human 
 avalanche burst from a pitch dark passageway. The 
 Dearborn rocked on and turned a corner; the soldiers 
 groped like blinded, half-stunned swimmers and as 
 the secretive moments passed, they stumbled to their 
 feet and staggered back again with garbled tales of 
 
298 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 prowling monsters, and crossed themselves continu- 
 ously. About the time the frightened soldiers reached 
 the house they had set out from, four Indians crept 
 along an adobe wall and knocked a signal on the 
 studded planks of a heavy, warehouse door. There 
 came no creaking from its well-oiled hinges as it 
 slowly opened, stopped, and swiftly shut again, and 
 left the dark and smelly courtyard empty. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE RE^NDE^ZVOUS 
 
 ENOCH BIRDSALL stared in amazement at the 
 four he had admitted, despite the remembrance 
 of the names they had whispered through the crack of 
 the partly opened door, the light from a single candle 
 making gargoyles of their hideously painted faces, 
 Alonzo Webb was peering along the barrel of a new- 
 fangled Colt, his eyes mere pin-points of concentra- 
 tion, his breathing nearly suspended. 
 
 Hank's low, throaty laughter filled the dim build- 
 ing and he slapped Tom on the shoulder. " Didn't 
 I say I could fix us up so our own mothers wouldn't 
 know us?" he demanded. 
 
 "God help us!" said Enoch in hopelessly inade- 
 quate accents as he groped behind him for his favorite 
 cask. He seated himself with great deliberation. 
 "When Turley's man Allbright brought aroun' yer 
 rifles in a packload o' hay, I knowed we'd be seein' 
 ye soon; an' he told us plain that four Injuns had 
 left 'em with him. But ; h — 1 ! " 
 
 Alonzo had cautiously put away the Colt and was 
 readjusting his facial expression to suit the changed 
 conditions. Then he suddenly leaned back against a 
 bale of tobacco leaf, jammed an arm tightly against 
 his mouth, and laughed until he was limp. 
 
 Zeb Houghton glared at him in offended dignity, 
 299 
 
goo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 not knowing just what to say, but determined to say 
 something. He felt embarrassed and slightly huffed. 
 "Caravan have airy trouble arter we left it?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Trouble?" queried Enoch, a wise grin wreathing 
 his face. "Some o* us made more profits this year 
 than we ever did afore. Soon's we found thar warn't 
 no custom guard ter meet us at Cold Spring, thanks 
 ter them Texans, we sent some riders ahead from 
 th* ford o' th' Canadian, an' Woodson held th' cara- 
 van thar in camp fer a couple o' days. Them greaser 
 rancheros air half starved 'most all year 'round an' 
 they jumped at th' chance ter earn some good U. S. 
 gold. Some o' us had quite some visitors one night 
 an' some o' th' waggins, ourn among 'em, shore 
 strayed away from th' encampment an' got lost in 
 th' hills. He had said somethin' 'bout not wantin* 
 to waste so much time, an' o' takin' a short-cut; an' 
 everybody war so excited about bein' so clost ter 
 Santer Fe, an' by this time used ter folks goin' on 
 ahead, that we warn't hardly missed. Them that did 
 miss us soon forgot it. We're ahead five hundred 
 dollars a waggin, besides th' other imposts an' th* 
 salve money; our waggins air waitin' fer us when 
 we go back, an* our goods air comin' in from th* 
 ranchos in carretas an' by pack mule, under hay, hoja 
 an' faggots, an' other stuff. Thar's them two axles 
 o' Joe Cooper's that he war so anxious about back 
 at th' Grove an' at every stream we had ter cross. 
 Thar empty now, but thar war plumb full o' high- 
 class contraband when they got here. Woodson slung 
 *em under one o' his waggins that come through on 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 501 
 
 th* reg'lar trail, an' brought 'em In. Over thar's 
 what's left o' your stuff." 
 
 " Have you fellers looked in a glass yit ? " demanded 
 Alonzo, taking a mirror from the wall. " Hyar, Boyd, 
 whichever ye air, see what ye look like." 
 
 The passing of the mirror and the candle was the 
 cause of much hilarity, and the room was filled with 
 subdued merriment until there came a peculiar knock 
 on the massive door. The candle flame struggled 
 under a box while voices murmured at the portal, 
 and then there came a cautious shuffling of feet until 
 the box was removed. 
 
 Joe Cooper's curious glance became a stare and 
 his jaw dropped. Tearing his eyes from the faces 
 of the villainous four he used them to ask a ques- 
 tion of the grinning Enoch which his lips were in- 
 capable of framing. 
 
 Enoch looked at the four. " One o' ye, who knows 
 who's who, interduce yer friends ter Mr. Cooper, o* 
 St. Louis, Missoury," he suggested. 
 
 Hank shoved Jim Ogden a step forward. "This 
 'Rapahoe is Jim Ogden, o' Bent's Fort an' th' Rockies; 
 this other un is Zeb Houghton, o' th' Louisiana Pur- 
 chase, Mexico an' Texas; hyar's Tom Boyd, hopin' 
 ter save his ear-tabs; an' I'm — " from his mouth 
 sounded the twang of a bowstring. 
 
 Uncle Joe sank down on a pile of smuggled Mack- 
 inaw blankets, shoved a cigar in his mouth, lit it and 
 took several puffs before he slammed it on the floor 
 and crushed it with his foot. Then he recovered him- 
 self, joyously shook hands all around and started a 
 conversation that scorned the flying minutes. Dur- 
 
302 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 ing- a lull Alonzo looked shrewdly at the cheerful 
 Indians and put his thoughts into words. 
 
 " Boys, anythin' we've got is yourn fer th' askin*," 
 he slowly said ; " but I'd hate ter reckon it war through 
 me an' Enoch that ye lost yer lives, an' yer ears. We 
 all war clost friends in Independence an' on th' trail. 
 Clost friends o' yourn air goin' ter be watched like 
 sin from now on. Tom Boyd an' his friends left th' 
 caravan ter go ter Bent's — an' a passel o' greasers 
 went arter 'em hot foot. Mebby th' first gang didn't 
 git ter Bent's — an' it's shore th' greasers ain't showed 
 up yit — not one o' them. Bad as Armijo is he ain't 
 no fool by a danged sight. Fer yer own sakes ye 
 better stay with Armstrong till ye leave th' city. Now 
 that I've warned ye, I don't give a cuss what ye do; 
 yer welcome ter stay hyar till yer bones rot — an' ye 
 know it." 
 
 Tom nodded. "Yer right, Alonzo. I just got a 
 brand new reason fer livin' till th' return caravan gits 
 past th' Arkansas. Patience Cooper has got to go 
 with it; she ain't a-goin' ter spend no winter hyar, 
 if / kin help it — an' if she does stay, then I do, too, 
 ears or no ears." His face tensed, his eyes gleaming 
 with hatred through the paint and dirt. "I come 
 nigh ter commitin' murder tonight. 'Twasn't my fault 
 that I didn't." 
 
 Hank clapped him on the shoulder and turned to 
 Uncle Joe. " We war all a-lookin' in at th' fandango," 
 he explained. "It war a mighty clost shave fer th* 
 sheep-stealin' shepherd o' Chavez rancho, that growed 
 up ter be governor. If 'twarn't fer th' gal I'd never 
 'a' grabbed Boyd." 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 303 
 
 Uncle Joe shook his head. "There'll be trouble 
 comin* out o' that," he declared. "We couldn't do 
 nothin* else, but Armijo'U never rest till he wipes 
 out th' insult o' our turnin' our backs on him an' leavin' 
 like we did. An' did ye see th' look she gave him? 
 D — d if it wasn't worth th' trip from Missouri to see 
 it! Us Americans ain't loved a whole lot out here, 
 an' them blessed Texans has gone an' made things 
 worse. I wish we all were rollin' down to th' Crossin'. 
 Patience is goin' back. I've argued that out, anyhow; 
 fight up to th' handle ! " 
 
 " Get her out of town now" urged Tom, wrigghng 
 forward on his box. "Us four'll whisk her up to 
 Bent's, an' jine ye at th' Crossin'." 
 
 " If we do that her father will have to leave, too,'* 
 replied Uncle Joe; "an' he's stubborn as a mule, 
 Adam is. He says it'll be forgotten, an' if we make 
 a play like that it'll raise th' devil." 
 
 "When her safety is at stake?" sharply demanded 
 Tom. 
 
 " He says she ain't in no danger. Him an' Armijo 
 ts real friendly. Adam is th' one man th' Americans 
 in this town depend on ter git 'em a little justice. 
 I've been arguin' with him tonight, an' I aim to keep 
 on arguin' ; but he's set. I know Adam." 
 
 Tom cursed and arose to his feet. "An' / know 
 Armijo! I know his vile history like a book, for I 
 took pains to learn it. His whole career is built on 
 treachery, sheep-stealin', double-dealin' and assassina- 
 tion. He robbed Chavez of thousands of sheep — • 
 even stealing them and selling them back to their 
 rightful owner. He sold one little flock back to 
 
504 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Chavez over a dozen times, an' had stolen it from 
 him in th' beginnin'. Then he dealt monte and made 
 a pile. Then he was made chief custom house officer 
 in this town, got caught at some of his tricks an' 
 kicked out. Governor Perez put another man in his 
 place. The condition of politics in Mexico worked in 
 Armijo's favor and he stirred up a ferment, headed 
 a conspiracy, raised a force of about a thousand Mexi- 
 cans an' Pueblo Indians up at La Canada, and when 
 Perez moved against him Perez's troops went over 
 to Armijo and the old governor had to flee to this 
 town, and out of it on th' jump. With him went a 
 score or so of his personal friends; but the next day 
 the little party was caught, more than a dozen of 
 them put to death, an' Perez was murdered in the 
 outskirts of this town and his body dragged around 
 through the streets. Armijo had not shown his hand 
 openly and the new governor was one of the active 
 leaders of the insurrection. This did not suit Armijo, 
 who was playing for big stakes, and he started an- 
 other revolution, adopted Federalism for a cloak, 
 drove the insurgent governor from the city, later shot 
 him and, after declaring himself governor, had his 
 appointment made official by the Federal government 
 at Mexico City, and ever since has played tyrant 
 without a check. That's Adam Cooper's so-called 
 friend. That's the man he trusts. God help Adam; 
 an' God help Armijo if he harms Patience Cooper!" 
 His friends nodded, for they knew that he spoke 
 the truth; and Uncle Joe thoughtlessly lit another 
 cigar before he remembered its make. "Adam's last 
 cent is sunk out here," he remarked. "He says he 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 305; 
 
 » — 
 
 ain't goin' to turn himself inter a pauper an' flee for 
 his life just because his fool brother is a-scared of 
 shadows. He says th' beast was drunk tonight an*^ 
 didn't know what he was doin'." 
 
 Tom spread out his hands helplessly, and then 
 clenched them. He paced a few turns and stopped 
 again. "All right, Uncle Joe; he's her father and 
 he's backin' his best judgment. I'm an outsider an' 
 have nothin' to say. Boys," he said, looking at his 
 three hunter friends, "we got work ter do. We got 
 ter watch Patience Cooper every minute that she's 
 out o' th' house. Thar's too much at stake fer us to 
 rendezvous hyar, we'll stay at Armstrong's. Enoch, 
 git our rifles over thar as soon as ye kin. I want 
 another repeatin' pistol, in a leather case, to hang^ 
 under mj'' shirt, below my left arm-pit. Thank th' 
 Lord that Turley's plantin' a relay fer us up in th* 
 mountains ; I'm bettin' we'll need it bad." He looked 
 at Hank. "Bet it's eighty mile to that place, ain't 
 it?" 
 
 . "Th' way we come it is," replied the hunter. "I 
 know a straighter trail that ain't got so many people 
 livin' along it. It's twenty mile shorter, but harder 
 travelin'." 
 
 "If thar's anybody at Bent's ranch on th' Purga- 
 toire, we might pick up a re-mount thar," muttered 
 Tom. "That'd give us fresh bosses fer th' last ninety 
 miles to th' fort; but we'll have ter cross th' wagon 
 road ter git thar." 
 
 "We'll use that fer th' second bar'l," said Hank. 
 " I know a better way, over an old Ute trail leadin*^ 
 toward th' Bayou Salade; but we'll have bosses at 
 
5o6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" ^ 
 
 Bent's ranch if I kin git word ter Holt, Carson or 
 Bill Bent. We better go 'round an' see Armstrong 
 right away; he may know o' somebody that's goin' 
 up on th' trail through Raton Pass. He'll do anythin' 
 fer me." 
 
 " Cover th' candle," said Tom. " Give us our rifles; 
 we kin carry 'em all right at this time o' night, with 
 everybody stayin' indoors on account o' th' Texans. 
 Any time ye have news fer us, Enoch, an' can't git 
 it ter Armstrong's, set a box outside th* door." 
 
 " It'll be stole," said Enoch, grinning. 
 
 "Then set somethin' else out." 
 
 "That'll be stole, too." 
 
 "What will?" 
 
 "Anythin' we put out." 
 
 "God help us!" ejaculated Uncle Joe. "Try a. 
 busted bottle." 
 
 "Glass?" laughed Alonzo, derisively. "No good. 
 If you kin think o' anythin' that won't be stole, I 
 shore want to larn o' it." He considered a moment. 
 "Hyar! If I git flour on my elbow an' brush ag'in 
 th' door, we got news fer ye. I don't think they kin 
 steal that, not all o' it, anyhow ! " 
 
 Enoch nodded. "If thar's any news we'll git it. 
 This is th' meetin' place o' most o' th' Americans 
 hyar. Thar banded purty clost together an* have 
 made Armijo change his tune a couple o' times. Onct 
 they war accused o' conspiracy ag'in th' government, 
 which war a danged lie, an' th' scarecrow troops war 
 ordered out ag'in 'em; but we put up such a fierce 
 showin' that Armijo climbed down from his high hoss 
 an' nothin' come o' it except hard feelin's. That'f 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 307 
 
 one o' th' reasons, I reckon, why Adam Cooper ain't 
 worryin' as much as he might about his dater's safety- 
 An' lookin' at it from a reasonable standpoint, I'm 
 figgerin' he's right. Boyd, hyar, would worry power- 
 ful if she got a splinter in her finger." 
 
 After the laughter had subsided and a little more 
 talk the four plainsmen slipped out of the building 
 and cautiously made their way to Armstrong's store 
 and dwelling where, after a whispered palaver at the 
 heavy door, they were admitted by the sleepy owner 
 of the premises and shown where they could spread 
 their blankets. In the faint light of the eandle they 
 saw other men lying about on the hard floor, who 
 stirred, grumbled a little, and went back to sleep 
 again. 
 
 When they awakened the next morning they recog- 
 nized two old friends from Bent's Fort, a trader from 
 St. Vrain's, and an American hunter and trapper from 
 the Pueblo near the junction of the Arkansas and Boil- 
 ing Spring Rivers. The simple breakfast was soon 
 dispatched and gossip and news exchanged, and then 
 Hank led aside a hunter named Hatcher, who stood 
 high at Bent's Fort, and earnestly conversed with 
 him. In a few moments Hank turned, looked reas- 
 suringly at Tom and smiled. Bent's little ranch on 
 the Purgatoire was being worked and improved and 
 there would be men and a relay of horses there, pro- 
 viding that the Utes overlooked the valley in the 
 meantime. 
 
 All that day they remained indoors and when night 
 came they slipped out, one by one, and drifted back 
 to the corral v^rhere the atejo still remained. They^ 
 
3o8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 had lost their rifles, were sullen and taciturn from 
 too much drink, and paid no attention to the knowing 
 ^rins of the friendly muleteers. Thenceforth they 
 drew only glances of passing interest on the streets, 
 no one giving a second thought to the stoHd, dulled 
 and sodden wrecks in their filthy, nondescript ap- 
 parel; and the guard at the palacio gave them cigar- 
 ettes rolled in corn husks for running errands, and 
 found amusement in playing harmless tricks on them. 
 
 At the barracks they were less welcome, Don Jesu 
 and Robideau, both subordinates of Salezar, scarcely 
 tolerating them; while Salezar, himself, kicked them 
 from in front of the door and threatened to cut off 
 their ears if he catight them hanging around the build- 
 ing. They accepted the kicks as a matter of course 
 and thenceforth shrunk from his approach; and he 
 sneered as he thought of their degradation from once 
 proud and vengeful warriors of free and warlike tribes, 
 to fawning beggars with no backbone. But even he, 
 when the need arose, made use of them to fetch and 
 carry for him and to do menial tasks about the mud 
 house he called his home. He had seen many of their 
 kind and wasted no thought on them. 
 
 He was the same cruel and brutal tyrant who had 
 herded almost two hundred half-starved and nearly 
 exhausted men over that terrible trail down the val- 
 ley of the Rio Grande, and his soldiers stood in mortal 
 terror of him and meekly accepted treatment that in 
 any other race would have swiftly resulted in his 
 death. He had played a prominent part in the captufe 
 and herding of the Texan prisoners and loved to boast 
 of it at every opportunity, using some of the incidents 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 309 
 
 as threats to his unfortunate soldiers. Tom and his 
 friends witnessed scenes that made their blood boil 
 more than it boiled over the indignities they elected 
 to suffer, and sometimes it was all they could do to 
 refrain from killing him in his tracks. At the barracks 
 he was a roaring lion, but at the pdlacio, in the sight 
 and hearing of the chief jackal, he reminded them of 
 a whipped cur. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 TOM R^N^GES 
 
 AS THE days passed while waiting for the return 
 ^of the caravan to Missouri, Patience rode abroad 
 with either her uncle or her father, sometimes in the 
 Dearborn, but more often in the saddle. She explored 
 the ruins of the old church at Pecos, where the Texan 
 prisoners had spent a miserable night; the squalid 
 hamlets of San Miguel, which she had passed through 
 on her way to Santa Fe, and Anton Chico had been 
 visited; the miserable little sheep ranchos had been 
 investigated and other rides had taken her to other 
 outlying districts; but the one she loved best was the 
 trail up over the mountain behind Santa Fe. The 
 almost hidden pack mules and their towering loads of 
 faggots, hoja, hay and other commodities were sights 
 she never tired of, although the scars on some of the 
 meek beasts once in awhile brought tears to her eyes. 
 The muleteers, beneficiaries of her generosity, smiled 
 when they saw her and touched their forelocks in 
 friendly salutation. 
 
 On the mountain there was one spot of which she 
 was especially fond. It was a little gully-like depres- 
 sion more than halfway up that seemed to be much 
 greener than the rest of the mountain side, and always 
 moist. The trees were taller and more heavily leafed 
 ^and threw a shade which, with the coolness of the 
 310 
 
TOM RENEGES 311 
 
 moist little nook, was most pleasant. It lay not far 
 from the rutted, rough and busy trail over the moun- 
 tain, which turned and passed below it, the atejos and 
 occasional picturesque caballeros on their caparisoned 
 horses, passing in review before her and close enough 
 to be distinctly seen, yet far enough away to hide 
 disillusioning details. The mud houses of the town 
 at the foot of the long slope, with their flat roofs, 
 looked much better at this distance and awakened 
 trains of thought which nearness would have forbid- 
 den. It was also an ideal place to eat a lunch and 
 she and Uncle Joe or her father made it their turning 
 point. 
 
 Her daily rides had given her confidence, and the 
 Stares which first had followed her soon changed to 
 glances of idle curiosity. Of Armijo she neither had 
 seen nor heard anything more and scarcely gave him 
 a thought, and the Mexican officers she met saluted 
 politely or ignored her altogether. Her uncle still 
 harped about Santa Fe being no place for her, but, 
 having the assurance that she would return to St. 
 Louis with the caravan, was too wise to press the 
 matter. His efforts were more strongly bent to get 
 his brother to sell out and he had sounded Woodson 
 to see if that trader would take over the merchandise. 
 Adam Cooper seemed to consider closing out his busi- 
 ness and returning to Missouri, but he would not sac- 
 rifice it, and there the matter hung, swaying first to 
 one side and then to the other. By this time Santa 
 Fe had palled on the American merchant and he had 
 laid by sufficient capital to start in business in St. 
 X-ouis or one of the frontier towns, and his brother was 
 
512 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 confident that if the stock could be disposed of for a 
 reasonable sum that Adam would join the returning 
 caravan. 
 
 It was in the storehouse of Webb and Birdsall one 
 night, about a week before the wagons were being put 
 in shape for the return trip that the matter was set- 
 tled. Disturbing rumors were floating up from the 
 south about a possible closing of the ports of entry 
 of the Department of New Mexico, due to the dangers 
 to Mexican traders on the long trail because of the 
 presence of Texan raiding parties. The Texans had 
 embittered the feelings of the Mexicans against the 
 Americans, whom they knew to be universally in favor 
 of the Lone Star Republic, and the Texan raids of this 
 summer were taken as a forecast of greater and more 
 determined raids for the following year. 
 
 When Adam and Joe Cooper joined the little group 
 in the warehouse on this night, they met two Mis- 
 sourians who had just returned from Chihuahua with 
 a train of eleven wagons. These traders, finding busi- 
 ness so good in the far southern market, and having 
 made arrangements with some Englishmen there, who 
 were high in favor with the Federal authorities, were 
 anxious to make another trip if they could load their 
 wagons at a price that would make the journey worth 
 while. They were certain that the next year would 
 find the Mexican ports closed against the overland 
 traffic, eager to clean up what they could before winter 
 set in and to sell their outfits and return by water. 
 They further declared that a tenseness was develop- 
 ing between the Federal government and the United 
 States, carefully hidden at the present, which would 
 
^ TOM RENEGES 31^ 
 
 make war between the two countries a matter of a 
 short time. Texas was full of people who were urging 
 annexation to the United States, and their numbers 
 were rapidly growing; and when the Lone Star repub- 
 lic became a state in the American federation, war 
 would inevitably follow. Some in the circle dissented 
 wholly or in part, but all admitted that daily Mexico 
 was growing more hostile to Americans. 
 
 "Wall, we ain't forcin' our opinions on nobody," 
 said one of the Chihuahua traders. " We believe 'em 
 ourselves, an' we want ter make another trip south, 
 Adam, we've heard ye ain't settled in yer mind about 
 stayin' through another winter hyar. We'll give ye 
 a chanct ter clear out; what ye got in goods, an' what 
 ye want fer 'em lock, stock an' bar'l?" 
 
 "What they cost us here in Santa Fe," said Uncle 
 Joe quickly, determined to force the issue. " We just 
 brought in more'n two wagon loads, an' what we had 
 on hand will go a long way toward helpin' you fill your 
 wagons. Come around tomorrow, look th' goods over, 
 an' if they suit you, we'll add twelve cents a pound for 
 th' freight charge across th' prairies an' close 'em out 
 to you. Ain't that right, Adam?" he demanded so 
 sharply and truculently that his brother almost sur- 
 rendered at once. Seeing that they had an ally in 
 Uncle Joe the traders pushed the matter and after a 
 long, haggling discussion, they offered an additional 
 five per cent of the purchase price for a quick de- 
 cision. 
 
 Uncle Joe accepted it on the spot and nudged his 
 brother, who grudgingly accepted the terms if the 
 traders would buy the two great wagons and their: 
 
314 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 teams. This they promised to do if they could find 
 enough extra goods to fill them, and they soon left 
 the warehouse for fear of showing their elation. They 
 knew where they could sell the wagons at a profit 
 with a little manipulation on the part of their Eng- 
 lish friend. 
 
 Elated by the outcome of his protracted arguments. 
 Uncle Joe hurried around to Armstrong's store and 
 told the news to Tom and his three friends. 
 
 "We can get them goods off our hands in two 
 days," he exulted; "an' th' caravan will be ready to 
 leave inside a week. Don't say a word to nobody, 
 boys. We'll try to sneak Adam and Patience out of 
 town so Armijo won't miss 'em till they're on th* 
 trail. Them Chihuahua traders won't disturb th' goods 
 before we start for home because they got to get a 
 lot more to fill their wagons, an* th' merchandise is 
 safer in th' store than it will be under canvas. I wish 
 th' next week was past!" 
 
 To wish the transaction kept a secret and to keep 
 it a secret were two different things. The Chihuahua 
 traders found more merchants who felt that they 
 would be much safer in Missouri than in Santa Fe, 
 and the south-bound wagon train was stocked three 
 days before time for the Missouri caravan to leave. 
 There were certain customs regulations relating to 
 goods going through to El Paso and beyond, certain 
 involved and exacting forms to be obtained and filled 
 out, much red tape to be cut with golden shears and 
 many palms to be crossed with specie. Uncle Joe 
 and his brother found that the matter of transferring 
 their goods to the traders took longer than they ex- 
 
TOM RENEGES 315 
 
 pected and were busy in the store for several days, 
 leaving- Patience to make the most of the short time 
 remaining of her stay in the capital of the Depart- 
 ment of New Mexico. 
 
 At last came the day when the east-bound caravan 
 was all but ready to start, certain last minute needs 
 arising that kept it in the camp outside the city until 
 the following morning. Busily engaged in its organ- 
 izing and in numerous personal matters, they told 
 her to stay in the city. Uncle Joe and his brother 
 could not accompany Patience on another ride up the 
 mountain and they understood that she would not 
 attempt one; but she changed her mind and left the 
 town in the care and guidance of a Mexican employee 
 of her father, in whom full trust was reposed. She 
 rode out an hour earlier than was her wont, and when 
 a Delaware Indian called at the house to beg alms 
 from the generous seiiorita he found the building open 
 and empty. Knowing that the last night was to be 
 spent in the encampment and thinking that she had 
 gone there, as he understood was the plan, he gave 
 little thought to this and wandered back to the Plaza 
 Puhlica to look for his companions. They were not 
 in sight and he went over to the barracks to seek 
 them there. 
 
 Don Jesu swaggered along the side of the build- 
 ing, caught sight of the disreputable Delaware and 
 contemptuously waved him away. " Out of my sight, 
 you drunken beggar and son of a beggar ! If I catch 
 you here once more I'll hang you by your thumbs! 
 Vamoose!" 
 
 The Delaware stiffened a little and seemed re- 
 
 Jlijj 
 
3i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 luctant to obey the command. "I seek my friends," 
 he replied in a guttural polyglot. " I do no harm." 
 
 Don Jesu's face flamed and he drew his sword 
 and brought the flat of the blade smartly across the 
 Indian's shoulder. "But once more I tell you to 
 vamoose! Pronto!" He drew back swiftly and threw 
 the weapon into position for a thrust, for he had seen 
 a look flare up in the Indian's eyes that warned him. 
 
 The Delaware cringed, muttered something and 
 slunk back along the wall and as he reached the cor- 
 ner of the building he bumped solidly into Robideau, 
 who at that moment turned it. The foot of the sec- 
 ond officer could not travel far enough to deliver the 
 full weight of the kick, but the impact was enough 
 to send the Indian sprawling. As he clawed to hands 
 and knees, Robideau stood over him, sword in hand, 
 threats and curses pouring from him in a burning 
 stream. The Indian paused a moment, got control 
 over his rage, ran off a short distance on hands and 
 knees and, leaping to his feet, dashed around the 
 corner of the building to the hilarious and exultant 
 jeers of the sycophantic soldiers. He barely escaped 
 bumping into a huge, screeching and ungainly carreta 
 being driven by a soldier and escorted by a squad of 
 his fellows under the personal command of Salezar. 
 The lash of a whip fell across his shoulders and cut 
 through blanket and shirt. The second blow was 
 short and before another could be aimed at him, the 
 Delaware had darted into a passage-way between two 
 buildings. 
 
 The officer laughed loudly, nodded at the scowling 
 driver and again felt of the canvas cover of the cart; 
 
TOM RENEGES 31/ 
 
 "The city is full of vermin," he chuckled. "There's 
 not much difference between Texans and Americans, 
 and these sotted Indians. Tomorrow we will be well 
 rid of many of the gringo dogs and we will attend 
 to these strange Indians when this present business 
 has been taken care of. But there is one gringo who 
 will remain with us!" He laughed until he shook. 
 ^'Captain Salezar today; Colonel, tomorrow; quien 
 sahef" 
 
 He looked at two of his soldiers, squat, powerful 
 half-breeds, and laughed again. "Jose is a strong 
 man. Manuel is a strong man. Perhaps tomorrow 
 we will give each one of them two Indians and see 
 which can f^og the longest and the hardest; but," he 
 warned, his face growing hard and cruel, "the man 
 who bungles his work today will have no ears 
 tomorrow! " 
 
 The Delaware, his right hand thrust into his shirt 
 under the dirty blanket, crouched in the doorway and 
 was making the fight of his life against the murderous 
 rage surging through him. The words of the officer 
 reached him well enough, but in his fury were unin- 
 telligible. Wild, mad plans for revenge were crowd- 
 ing through his mind, mixed and jumbled until they 
 were nothing more than a mental kaleidoscope, and 
 constantly thrown back by the frantic struggles of 
 reason. He had nursed the thought of revenge, mile 
 after mile, day after day, across the prairies and the 
 desert; but for the last half month he had fought it 
 back for the safety his freedom might give to the 
 woman he loved. 
 
 The grotesque, ungainly cart rumbled and bumped. 
 
3i8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 clacked and screeched down the street, farther and 
 farther away and still he crouched in the doorway. 
 The sounds died out, but still he remained in the 
 sheltering niche. Finally his hand emerged from 
 under the blanket and fell to his side, and a wretched 
 Indian slouched down the street toward the Plaza 
 Puhlica. In command of himself once more he shuf- 
 fled over to the guard house in the palacio and leaned 
 against the wall, the welt on his back burning him 
 to the soul, as Armijo's herald stepped from the main 
 door, blew his trumpet and announced the coming of 
 the governor. Pedestrians stopped short and bowed 
 as the swarthy tyrant stalked out to his horse, 
 mounted and rode away, his small body-guard clat- 
 tering after him. The Delaware, to hide the expres- 
 sion on his face, bowed lower and longer than anyone 
 and then slyly produced a plug of smuggled Kentucky 
 tobacco and slipped it to the sergeant of the guard. 
 
 "They'll catch you yet, you thief of the North," 
 warned the sergeant, shaking a finger at the stolid 
 Indian. "And when they do you'll hang by the 
 thumbs, or lose your ears." He grinned and shoved 
 the plug into his pocket, not seeming to be frightened 
 by becoming an accessory after the fact. " Our gov- 
 ernor is in high spirits today, and our captain's face 
 is like the mid-day sun. He is a devil with the women, 
 is Armijo and his sefiora doesn't care a snap. Lucky 
 man, the governor." He laughed and then looked 
 curiously at his silent companion. "Where do you 
 come from, and where do you go?" 
 
 The Delaware waved lazily toward the North. 
 "Sefior Bent. I return soon." 
 
TOM RENEGES 319 
 
 " Look to it that you do, or the calahozo will swallow 
 you up in one mouthful. I hear much about the 
 palacio" He shook his finger and his head, both 
 earnestly. 
 
 The Delaware drew back slightly and glanced 
 around. Drawing his blanket about him he turned 
 and slouched away, leaving the plaza by the first 
 street, and made his slinking and apologetic way to 
 Armstrong's, there to wait until dark. His three 
 friends were there already and were rubbing their 
 pistols and rifles, elated that the morrow would find 
 them on the trail again. The two Arapahoes planned 
 to accompany the caravan as far as the Crossing of 
 the Arkansas and there turn back toward Bent's Fort, 
 following the northern branch of the trail along the 
 north bank of the river. 
 
 " Better jine us, Tom," urged Jim Ogden. " You 
 an' Hank an' us will stay at th' fort till frost comes, 
 an' then outfit thar an' spend th' winter up in Middle 
 Park." 
 
 " Or we kin work up 'long Green River an' winter 
 in Hank's old place," suggested Zeb Houghton, rub- 
 bing his hands. " Thar'U be good company in Brown's 
 Hole ; an' mebby a scrimmage with th' thievin' Crows 
 if we go up that way. Yer nose will be outer jint iti 
 th' Missouri settlements. I know a couple o' beaver 
 streams that ain't been teched yit." He glanced 
 shrewdly at the young man. "It's good otter an* 
 mink country, too. We'll build a good home camp 
 an' put up some lean-tos at th' fur end o' th' furtherest 
 trap lines. Th' slopes o' th' little divides air tliick 
 with timber fer our marten traps, an' th' tops air barew 
 
B20 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Fox sets up thar will git plenty o' pelts. I passed 
 through it two year ago an' can't hardly wait ter git 
 back ag'in. It's big enough fer th' hull four o' us." 
 
 "Thar's no money in beaver at a dollar a plew," 
 commented Hank, watching his partner out of the 
 corner of his eye. "Time war when it war worth 
 somethin', I tell ye; but them days air past — an' th' 
 beaver, too, purty nigh. I remember one spring 
 when I got five dollars a pound fer beaver from ol' 
 Whiskey Larkin. Met him on th' headwaters o' th' 
 Platte. He paid me that then an' thar, an' then had 
 ter pack it all th' way ter Independence. But it's 
 different with th' other skins, an' us four shore could 
 have a fine winter together." 
 
 "It's alius excitin' ter me ter wait till th' pelts 
 prime, settin' in a good camp with th' traps strung 
 out, smokin' good terbaker an* eatin' good grub," 
 said Ogden, reminiscently. "Then th' frosts set in, 
 snow falls an' th' cold comes ter stay; an' we web it 
 along th' lines settin' traps fer th' winter's work. By 
 ■gosh ! What ye say, Tom ? " 
 
 Tom was studying the floor, vainly trying to find a 
 way to please his friends and to follow the commands 
 of an urging he could not resist. For him the mating 
 call had come, and his whole nature responded to it 
 with a power which would not be denied. On one 
 hand called the old life, the old friends to whom he 
 owed so much; a winter season with them in a good 
 fur country, with perfect companionship and the work 
 he loved so dearly; on the other the low, sweet voice 
 of love, calHng him to the One Woman and to trails 
 iuntrod. The past was dead, living only in memory; 
 
TOM RENEGES 32r 
 
 the future stirred with life and was rich in promise.^ 
 He sighed, slowly shook his head and looked up with 
 moist eyes, glancing from one eager face to another. 
 
 "I'm goin' back ter Missoury," he said in a low 
 voice. "Thar's a question I got ter ask, back thar, 
 when th' danger's all behind an' it kin be asked fair. 
 If th' answer is *no' I promise ter jine ye at Bent's 
 or foller after. Leave word fer me if ye go afore I 
 git thar. But trappin' is on its last legs, an' th* 
 money's slippin' out o' it, like fur from a pelt in th* 
 spring; 'though I won't care a dang about that if I 
 has ter turn my back on th' settlements." His eyes 
 narrowed and his face grew hard. "Jest now I'm 
 worryin' about somethin' else. Here I am in Santer 
 Fe, passin' Armijo an' Salezar every day, an' have 
 ter turn my back on one of th' big reasons fer comin' 
 hyar. Thar's a new welt acrost my back that burns 
 through th' flesh inter my soul like a livin' fire. 
 Thar's an oath I swore on th' memory of a close 
 friend who war beaten an' starved an' murdered ; an' 
 now I'm a lyin' dog, an' my spirit's turned ter water! " 
 He leaped up and paced back and forth across the 
 little room like a caged panther. 
 
 Hank cleared his throat, his painted face terrible 
 to look upon. "Hell!" he growled, squirming on 
 his box. "Them as know ye, Tom Boyd, know ye 
 ain't neither dog ner liar! Takes a good man ter 
 stand what ye have, day arter day, feelin' like you 
 do, an' keep from chokin' th' life outer him. We've 
 all took his insults, swallered 'em whole without no 
 salt ; ye wouldn't say all o' us war dogs an' liars, wouldi 
 ye? Tell ye what; we've been purty clost, you an*j 
 
g22 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 me — suppose I slip back from th' Canadian an' git 
 his ears fer ye? 'Twon't be no trouble, an' I won't 
 be gone long. Reckon ye'd feel airy better then?" 
 
 Zeb moved forward on his cask. " That's you, 
 Hank Marshall ! " he exclaimed eagerly. " I'm with 
 ye! He spit in my face two days ago, an' I want 
 his ha'r. Good fer you, ol' beaver ! " 
 
 For the next hour the argument waxed hot, one 
 against three, and Armstrong had to come in and 
 caution them twice. It was Jim Ogden who finally 
 changed sides and settled the matter in Tom's favor. 
 
 " Hyar ! We're nigh fightin' over a dog that ain't 
 worth a cuss ! " he exclaimed. " Mebby Tom will be 
 comin' back ter Bent's afore winter sets in. Then we 
 kin go ter Green River by th' way o' this town, stop- 
 pin' hyar a day ter git Salezar's ears. Won't do Tom 
 no good if us boys git th' skunk. If ye don't close yer 
 traps, cussed if I won't go out an' git him now, an' 
 then hell shore will pop afore th' caravan gits away. 
 Ain't ye got no sense, ye blood-thirsty Injuns?" 
 
 I 
 
p 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE KIDNAPPING 
 
 ATIENCE and her Mexican escort rode out of 
 the town along the trail to Taos Valley, the 
 road leading up the mountain and past her favorite 
 retreat. She could not resist the cool of the morning 
 hours and the temptation to pay one more visit to 
 the little niche in the mountain side. The few fare- 
 well calls that she had to make could wait until the 
 afternoon. They were duties rather than pleasures 
 and the shorter she could make them the better she 
 would like it. She passed the mud houses of the 
 soldiers and soon left the city behind. At inter- 
 vals on the wretched road she met and smiled at 
 the friendly muleteers and gave small coins to the 
 toddling Mexican and Indian children before the 
 wretched hovels scattered along the way. Well be- 
 fore noon she reached the little nook and unpacked 
 the lunch she had brought along. Sharing it with 
 her humble escort, who stubbornly insisted on taking 
 his portion to one side and eating by himself, she 
 spread her own lunch under her favorite tree and 
 leisurely enjoyed it as she watched the mules passing 
 below her along the trail. This last view of the dis- 
 tant town and the mountain trail enchanted her and 
 time slipped by with furtive speed. Far down on 
 the road, if it could be called such, bumped and slid 
 323 
 
B24 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 a huge carreta covered with a soiled canvas cover, its 
 driver laboring with his four-mule team. The four 
 had all they could do to draw the massive cart along 
 the rough trail and she smiled as she wondered how 
 many mules it would take to pull the heavy vehicle 
 if it were well loaded. She tried to picture it with 
 the toiling caravan, and laughed aloud at the 
 absurdity. 
 
 While she idly watched the carreta and the little 
 atejo passing it in the direction of the city, a flash 
 far down the trail caught her eye and she made out 
 a group of mounted soldiers trotting after an officer, 
 whose scabbard dully flashed as it jerked and bobbed 
 about. The carreta was more than half way up the 
 slope, seeming every moment to be threatened with 
 destruction by the shaking it was receiving, when the 
 soldiers overtook and passed it. When the squad 
 reached the short section of the trail immediately be- 
 low her it met an atejo of a dozen heavily-laden mules 
 and the arrogant officer waved his sword and ordered 
 them off the trail. Mules are deliberate and take 
 their own good time, and they also have a natural 
 reluctance to forsake a known and comparatively easy 
 trail to climb over rocks under the towering packs. 
 Their owners tried to lead them aside, although there 
 was plenty of room for the troops to pass, but the 
 little beasts were stubborn and stuck to the trail. 
 
 Impatiently waiting for perhaps a full minute that 
 his conceit might be pampered, the officer drew his 
 sword again and peremptorily ordered the trail 
 cleared for his passing. The muleteers did their best, 
 Jjut it was not good enough for the puffed-up captain. 
 
THE KIDNAPPING 325 
 
 and he spurred his horse against a faggot-burdened 
 animal. The load swayed and then toppled, forcing 
 the little burro to its knees and then over on its side, 
 the tight girth gripping it as in a vise. The owner 
 of the animal stepped quickly forward, a black scowl 
 on his face. At his first word of protest the officer 
 struck him on the head with the flat of the blade and 
 broke into a torrent of curses and threats. The mu- 
 leteer staggered back against a huge bowlder and 
 bowed his head, his arms hanging limply at his sides. 
 The officer considered a moment, laughed contemp- 
 tuously and rode on, his rag-tag, wooden-faced squad 
 following him closely. 
 
 As the soldiers passed from his sight around a bend 
 in the trail the muleteer leaned forward, hand on the 
 knife in his belt, and stared malevolently at the rocks 
 on the bend; and then hastened to help his two com- 
 panions unpack the load of faggots and let the mule 
 arise. The little animal did not get up. Both its 
 front legs were broken by the rocky crevice into 
 which they had been forced. The unfortunate Pueblo 
 Indian knelt swiftly at the side of the little beast and 
 passed his hands along the slender legs. He shook 
 his head sorrowfully and stroked the burro's flank. 
 Suddenly leaping to his feet, knife in hand, he took 
 two quick steps along the trail, but yielded to his 
 clinging and frightened friends and dejectedly walked 
 back to the suffering animal. For a moment he stood 
 above it and then, changing his grip on the knife, 
 leaned quickly over. . 
 
 Patience had seen the whole tragedy and her eyes 
 were brimming with tears. As the muleteer ben| 
 
526 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 
 
 forward she turned away, sobbing. The throaty mut- 
 tering of her guide brought him back to her mind 
 and she called him to her. 
 
 " Sanchez ! " she exclaimed, taking a purse from 
 her bosom. "Take this money to him. It will buy 
 him another burro." 
 
 The Mexican's teeth flashed like pearls and he 
 nodded eagerly. In a moment he was clambering 
 down the rocky mountain side and reached the trail 
 as the noisy carreta lumbered past the waiting atejo. 
 He need not have hastened, for each mule had seized 
 upon the stop as a valuable moment for resting and 
 was lying down under its load. Here was work 
 for the angry muleteers, for every animal must be 
 unloaded, kicked to its feet and loaded anew, 
 
 Sanchez slid down the last rocky wall, flung up his 
 arms and showed the two gold pieces, making a flam- 
 boyant speech as he alternately faced the wondering 
 muleteer and turned to bow to the slender figure out- 
 lined against the somber greens of the mountain nook. 
 Handing over the money, he slapped the Indian's 
 shoulder, whirled swiftly and clambered back the way 
 he had come. 
 
 The Indian seemed dazed at his unexpected good 
 fortune, staring at the money in his hand. He 
 glanced up toward the mountain niche, raised a hand 
 to his forelock, and then pushed swiftly back from 
 his eager, curious, crowding friends. They talked 
 together at top speed and for the moment forgot all 
 about the mules they had so laboriously repacked; 
 and when they looked behind them they found they 
 had their work to do over again. Again the fortunate 
 
THE KIDNAPPING 327 
 
 muleteer looked up, his hand slowly rising to repeat 
 his thanks; and became a statue in bronze. He saw 
 the ragged troops seize his benefactress and leap for 
 the guide. Sanchez was no coward and he knew 
 what loyalty meant and demanded. He fought like 
 a wild beast until the crash of a pistol in the hands 
 of the officer sent him staggering on bending legs, 
 back, back, back. Reaching the edge of the niche he 
 toppled backward, his quivering arms behind him to 
 break his fall; and plunged and rolled down the rocky 
 slope until stopped by a stunted tree, where he hung 
 like a bag of meal. 
 
 Patience's strength, multiplied by terror, availed 
 her nothing and soon, bound, gagged and wrapped 
 up in blankets, she was carried to the trail and placed 
 in the carreta which, its canvas cover again tightly 
 drawn, quickly began its jolting way down the trail. 
 As it and its escort passed the atejo, now being re- 
 packed, the officer scowled about him for a sight of 
 the impudent muleteer, but could not see him. 
 
 Salezar stopped his horse : " Where is that Pueblo 
 dog?" he demanded. 
 
 " He is so frightened he is running all the way 
 home," answered a muleteer. "He has left us to do 
 his work for him! Are we slaves that we must serve 
 him? Wait till we see him, Sefior Capitan! Just 
 you wait ! " He looked at his companion, who nod- 
 ded sourly. "Always he is like that, Sefior Capitan." 
 
 Salezar questioned them closely about what they 
 had seen, and found that they had been so busy with 
 the accursed mules that they had had no time for 
 anything else. 
 
328 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 
 
 "See that you speak the truth!" he threatened. 
 "There is a gringo woman missing from Santa Fe 
 and we are seeking her. Her gringo friends are en- 
 emies of the Governor, and those who help them also 
 are his enemies. Then you have not seen this 
 woman?" 
 
 "The more gringos that are missing the louder 
 we will sing. We have not seen her, Sefior Capitan. 
 We will take care that we do not see her." 
 
 " Did you hear any shooting, then ? " 
 
 " If I did it would be that frightened Pablo, shoot- 
 ing at his shadow. He is like that, Pablo is." . 
 
 " Listen well ! " warned Salezar, his beady eyes 
 aglint. "There are two kinds of men who do not 
 speak; the wise ones, and the ones who have no 
 tongues ! " He made a significant gesture in front of 
 his mouth, glared down at the two muleteers and^ 
 wheeling, dashed down the trail to overtake the 
 carreta, where he gloated aloud that his prisoner might 
 hear, and know where she was going, and why. 
 
 The two Pueblos listened until the hoofbeats sound- 
 ed well down the trail and then scrambled up the 
 mountain side like goats, reaching the little nook a» 
 Pablo dragged the seriously wounded Mexican over 
 the edge. They worked over him quickly, silently, 
 listening to his broken, infrequent mutterings and 
 after bandaging him as best they could they put him 
 on a blanket and carried him to the trail and along it 
 until they reached an Indian hovel, where they left 
 him in care of a squaw. Returning to the atejo they 
 had to repack every mule, but they worked feverishly 
 and the work was soon done and the little train plod- 
 
THE KIDNAPPING 329 
 
 ded on down the trail. At the foot of the mountain 
 Pablo said something to his companions, left the trail 
 and soon was lost to their sight. 
 
 Meanwhile the carreta, after a journey which was 
 a torture, mentally and physically, to its helpless occu- 
 pant, reached the town and rumbled up to Salezar's 
 house, scraped through the narrow roadway between 
 the house and the building next door and stopped in 
 the windowless, high-walled courtyard. Three sol- 
 diers quickly carried a blanket-swathed burden into 
 the house while the others loafed around the entrance 
 to the driveway to guard against spying eyes. In a 
 few moments the captain came out, briskly rubbing 
 his hands, gave a curt order regarding alertness and 
 rode away in the direction of the palacio, already a 
 colonel in his stimulated imagination. This had been 
 a great day in the fortunes of Captain Salezar and 
 he was eager for his reward. 
 
 The sentry at the door of the palacio saluted, told 
 him that he was waited for and urgently wanted, and 
 then stood at attention. Salezar stroked his chin, 
 chuckled, and swaggered through the portal. Ten 
 minutes later he emerged, walking on air and im- 
 patient for the coming of darkness, when his task soon 
 would be finished and his promotion assured. 
 
 And while the captain paced the floor of his quar- 
 ters at the barracks and dreamed dreams, an honest, 
 courageous, and loyal Mexican was fighting against 
 death in a little hovel on the mountain side; and a 
 Pueblo Indian, stimulated by a queer and jumbled 
 mixture of rage, gratitude, revenge, and pity, was 
 makirig his slow way, with infinite caution, through. 
 
'330 
 
 BRING ME HIS EARS' 
 
 the cover north of town. Sanchez in his babbling had 
 mentioned the caravan, a gringo name, and the urgent 
 need for a warning to be carried. Salezar's name the 
 Pueblo already knew far too well, and hated as he 
 hated nothing else on earth. The mud-walled pueblos 
 of the Valley of Taos were regarded by Salezar as 
 rabbit-warrens full of women, provided by Providence 
 that his hunting might be good. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 • " LOS T^JANOS ! " 
 
 THE encampment of the returning caravan was 
 in a little pasture well outside the town and 
 it was the scene of bustling activity. Its personnel 
 was different from either of the two trains from 
 the Missouri frontier, for it was made up of traders 
 and travelers from both of the earlier, west-bound 
 caravans. Some of the first and second wagon trains 
 had gone on to El Paso and Chihuahua, a handful of 
 venturesome travelers were to try for the Pacific coast, 
 and others of the first two trains had elected to remain 
 in the New Mexican capital. While in the two west- 
 bound caravans there had been many Mexicans, their 
 number now was neghgible. But this returning train 
 was larger than either of the other two, carried much 
 less freight, a large amount of specie, and would drive 
 a large herd of mules across the prairies for sale in 
 the Missouri settlements, which would fan the fires 
 of Indian avarice all along the trail. 
 
 Uncle Joe and his brother had been busy all day 
 doing their own work, catching up odds and ends of 
 their Santa Fe connections, and helping friends get 
 ready for the long trip, and they had not given much 
 thought to Patience, whom they believed to be saying 
 her farewells to friends she had made in the city. As 
 the afternoon passed and she and her escort had not 
 331 
 
33£ "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 appeared, Uncle Joe became a little uneasy; and as 
 the shadows began to reach farther and farther from 
 the wagons he mounted his horse and rode ba'ck to 
 Santa Fe to find and join her. It was nearly dark 
 when he galloped back to the encampment and sought 
 his brother, hoping that Patience had made her way 
 to the wagons while he had sought for her in town. 
 He knew that she had not called on any of her friends 
 and that she must have stolen a last ride through the 
 environs of the town. The two men were frankly 
 frightened and hurriedly made the rounds of the wag- 
 ons and then started for the city. It was dark by 
 then and as they rode by the last camp-fire of the 
 encampment, four villainous Indians loomed up in the 
 light of the little blaze and Uncle Joe recognized them 
 instantly. He drew up quickly. 
 
 "Have you seen Patience?" he cried, an agony 
 of fear in his voice. " We can't find her anywhere ! " 
 
 The Indians motioned for him to go on and they 
 followed him and his brother. When a few score 
 paces from the fire they stopped and consulted, hung- 
 rily fingering the locks of their heavy rifles. While 
 they were sketching a plan a Pueblo Indian, following 
 the trail to the camp like a speeding shadow, came 
 up to them and blurted out his fragmentary tale in a 
 mixture of Spanish and Indian. 
 
 " Salezar stole white woman on mountain. Put her 
 in carreta and went back to Santa Fe. Tell these 
 people, that her friends will know. Salezar, the son 
 of a pig, stole her on the mountain." He burst into 
 a torrent of words unintelligible and open and shut 
 his hands as he raved. 
 
"LOS TEJANOS!" 333' 
 
 Finally in reply to their hot, close questioning he 
 told all he knew, his answers interspersed with stark 
 curses for Salezar and pity and anxiety for the angel 
 sefiorita. His words bore the undeniable stamp of 
 sincerity, fitted in with what the anxious group feared, 
 and he was triply bound by the gold pieces crowded 
 into his hands. After another conference, not point- 
 less now, a plan was hurriedly agreed upon and the 
 several parts well studied. The Pueblo was given a 
 commission and loaned a horse, and after repeating 
 what he was to do, shot away into the darkness. 
 Uncle Joe and his brother grudgingly accepted their 
 parts, after Tom had shown them they could help in 
 no other way, and turned back into the encampment, 
 where their hot and eager efforts met with prompt 
 help from their closest friends. Alonzo Webb and 
 Enoch Birdsall, mounted, led four horses out of the 
 west side of the camp and melted into the darkness; 
 several hundred yards from the wagons they turned 
 the led horses over to four maddened Indians and 
 followed them through the night, to enter Santa Fe 
 from the south. Not far behind them a cavalcade 
 rode along the same route, grim and silent. At the 
 little corral where the atejo had put up the Indians 
 got the horses which Turley had loaned them, shook 
 hands with the two traders and listened as the cara- 
 van's horses were led off toward the camp. 
 
 Armstrong answered the knocks on his door and 
 admitted the Delaware, listened in amazement to the 
 brief, tense statement of fact, strongly endorsed Tom's 
 plans, and eagerly accepted his own part. His caller 
 slipped out, the door closed, and the sounds of walking 
 
334 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 horses faded out down the street. A few moments 
 later, Armstrong, rifle in hand, slipped out of the house 
 and ran southward. 
 
 Captain Salezar, sitting at ease in his adobe house, 
 poured himself another drink of aguardiente and rolled 
 another corn-husk cigarette. Lighting it from the 
 candle he fell to pacing to and fro across the small 
 room. As the raw, potent Hquor stimulated his im- 
 agination he began to bow to imaginary persons, give 
 orders to officers, and to introduce himself as Colonel 
 Salezar. From the barracks across the corner of the 
 square an occasional burst of laughter rang out, but 
 these were becoming more infrequent and less loud. 
 He heard the grounding gun-butt of the sentry outside 
 his door as the soldier paused before wheeling to re- 
 trace his steps over the beat. 
 
 The sentry paced along the narrow driveway and 
 stopped at the outer corner of the house to cast an 
 envious glance across at the barracks where he knew 
 that his friends were engaged in a furtive game of 
 monfe, which had started before he had gone on duty 
 not a quarter of an hour before. He turned slowly 
 to pace back again and then suddenly threw up his 
 arms as his world became black. His falling firelock 
 was caught as it left his hands, and soon lay at the side 
 of its gagged and trussed owner in the blackness 
 along the base of a driveway wall. Two figures 
 slipped toward the courtyard to the rear of the house 
 and one of them, taking the rifle of his companion, 
 stopped at the corner of the wall at the driveway. 
 The other slipped to the door, gently tried the latch 
 and opened it, one hand hidden beneath the folds of a 
 
LOS TEJANOS!" 335 
 
 dirty blanket. The door swung silently open and shut 
 and the intruder cast a swift glance around the room. 
 
 Captain Salezar grinned into the cracked mirror 
 hanging on the wall, stiffened to attention, and saluted 
 the image in the glass. 
 
 "Colonel Salezar's orders, sir," he declaimed and 
 then, staring with unbelieving eyes at the apparition 
 pushing out onto the mirror, crossed himself, whirled 
 and drew his sword almost in one motion. 
 
 The Delaware cringed and pulled at a lock of hair 
 straggling down past his eyes and held out a folded 
 paper, swiftly placing a finger on his lips. 
 
 "Por le Capitan despues le Gobernador," he whispered. 
 *' Pronto!" 
 
 The captain's anger and suspicion at so uncere- 
 monious an entry slowly faded, but he did not lower 
 the sword. The Delaware slid forward, abject and 
 fearful, his eyes riveted on the clumsy blade, the 
 paper held out at arm's length. " Por le Capitan," he 
 muttered. *' Pronto!" 
 
 " You son of swine ! " growled Salezar. " You 
 scum! Is this the way you enter an officer's house? 
 How did you pass the sentry? A score of lashes on 
 both your backs will teach you manners and him his 
 duty. Give me that message and stand aside till I 
 call the guard ! " 
 
 " Perddn, Capitan! Perddn, perddn! " begged the 
 Delaware. " Le Gohernador — " his hands streaked 
 out, one gripping the sword wrist of the captain, the 
 other fastening inexorably on the greasy, swarthy 
 throat well up under the chin. As the grips clamped 
 down the Delaware's knee rose and smashed into the 
 
336 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Mexican's stomach. The sword clattered against a 
 wall and the two men fell and rolled and thrashed 
 across the floor. 
 
 " Where is she ? " grated the Indian as he writhed 
 and rolled, now underneath and now uppermost. 
 '" Where is she, you murdering dog? " 
 
 They smashed against the flimsy table and over- 
 turned it, candle, liquor and all. The candle flickered 
 out and the struggle went on in the darkness. 
 
 "Where is she, Salezar? Yore in th' hands of a 
 Texauy you taker of ears! Where is she?" 
 
 Salezar was no weakling and although he had no 
 more real courage than a rat, like a rat he was cor- 
 nered and fighting for his Hfe; but Captain Salezar 
 liad lived well and lazily, as his pampered body was 
 now showing evidence. Try as he might he could 
 tjot escape those steel-like fingers for more than a 
 moment. With desperate strength he broke their 
 hold time and again as he writhed and bridged and 
 rolled, clawed and bit; but they clamped back again 
 as often. His shouts for help were choked gasps 
 and the strength he had put forth in the beginning oi^' 
 the struggle was waning. 
 
 The table was now a wreck and they rolled in and 
 over the debris. Salezar made use of his great spurs 
 at every chance and his opponent's clothing was 
 ripped and torn to shreds wet with blood. His fingers 
 searched for his enemy's eyes and missed them, but 
 left their marks on the painted face. They rolled 
 against one wall and then back to the other; they 
 slammed again at the door and back into the wreckage 
 of the table. 
 
''LOS TEJANOS!" 337 
 
 " Where is she? " panted the Delaware. " Tell me, 
 Salezar, where is she? " 
 
 The captain wriggled desperately and almost gained 
 the top, and thought he sensed a weakened opposi- 
 tion. " Where she will remain ! " he choked. " Mis- 
 tress of the palacio — until he tires — of her. You — 
 cursed Tejano dog ! " He drove a spur at his enemy's 
 side, missed, and it became entangled in the rags. 
 
 The Delaware, blind with fury, smashed his knee 
 into the soft abdomen and snarled at the answering 
 gasp of pain. "Remember th' prisoners? Near 
 Valencia — Ernest died in the — night. You cut off 
 his ears — and threw his body in a — ditch!" He 
 got the throat hold again in spite of nails and teeth, 
 blows and spurs. " McAllister was shot because he — 
 could not walk. You stole his clothes — cut off his 
 ears and left — his body at th' side of th' — road for 
 the wolves ! " He felt the spurs graze his leg and he 
 threw it across the body of the Mexican. " Golpin 
 was shot — other side of Dead Man's Lake. You 
 took — his ears too!" He hauled and tugged and 
 managed to roll his enemy onto his other leg. " On 
 th' Dead Man's Journey — Griffin's brains were 
 knocked out with a — gun butt. His ears were cut 
 off, too! " Hooking his feet together he clamped his 
 powerful thighs in a viselike grip on his enemy. 
 " Gates died in a wagon near — El Paso, of starvation, 
 sickness — an' fright. You got his — ears!" 
 
 "As — I'll get — yours!" hoarsely moaned Salezar, 
 again missing with the spurs. " The seiiorita will be 
 happy — in Armijo's arms. After that — the soldiers 
 — can have her ! " 
 
S38 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The Delaware loosened his leg grip, jerked them 
 up toward the captain's stomach as he hauled his 
 victim down toward them, and clamped them tight 
 again over the soft stomach. 
 
 "Yore lies stick — in yore throat — Salezar!" he 
 panted. **An' those murders cry — to heaven; but 
 you'll only — hear th' echoes ringin' through hell — for 
 all eternity. You called th' roll of th' livin' — on that 
 damnable march; /'m — callin' th* roll of th* dead! 
 Yore name comes last ! There's many a Texan would 
 give his — chance of heaven to change places — with 
 me, now!" He raised his head in the darkness. 
 "Oh, Ernest, old pardner; I'm payin' yore debt, in 
 full!" 
 
 The spurs stabbed in vain, for the Delaware was 
 now well above their flaying range ; the nails scoring 
 his face were growing feeble. He shifted the leg hold 
 again and managed to imprison one of Salezar's arms 
 in their grip. Lifting himself from the hips, he re- 
 leased the throat hold and grabbed the Mexican's 
 other arm, thrust it under him and fell back on it as 
 his two hands, free now to work their worst, leaped 
 back under the swarthy chin. The relentless thumbs 
 pressed up and in. 
 
 The Blackfoot on guard at the end of the driveway 
 thought he heard the door open and close, but there 
 was no doubt about the labored breathing which 
 wheezed along the dark wall. Stumbling steps fal- 
 tered and dragged and then the Delaware bumped 
 into him and held to him for a moment. 
 
 " Git th* bosses, Hank ! " came a mumbled com- 
 mand. 
 
"LOS TEJANOS!" 339 
 
 "Thar with Jim an' Zeb," whispered the hunter m 
 surprise. " How'd ye get so wet? Is that blood?" 
 
 "Spurred me — I'll be all right — soon's I git 
 breath. He — fought like a — fiend." 
 
 "Git his ears?" eagerly demanded the Blackfoot. 
 
 "Thar's been ears enough took — already. Come 
 on; she's in th' palacio — with Armijo!" 
 
 "Jest what we figgered, damn him!" growled the 
 Blackfoot, leading the way. 
 
 In the stable at the rear of the courtyard a decrepit 
 dog, white with age, had barked feebly when its 
 breath permitted, while the fight had raged in the 
 house. The Blackfoot had considered stopping the 
 wheezy warnings, but they did not have power enough 
 to lure him from his watch. He had accepted the 
 lesser of the two evils and remained on guard. As 
 the two Indians crept from the courtyard the aged 
 animal burst into a paroxysm of barking, which ex- 
 hausted it. To those who knew the captain's dog, 
 its barking long since had lost all meaning, for, as the 
 soldiers said, it barked over nothing. They did not 
 know that the animal dreamed day and night of the 
 days of its youth and strength and now, in its dotage, 
 in imagination was living over again stirring incidents 
 of hunts and fights long past. Gradually it recovered 
 its strength from sounding its barked warnings in 
 vain, and pantingly sniffed the air. Its actions became 
 frantic and the decrepit old dog struggled to its feet, 
 swaying on its feeble legs, its grizzled muzzle point- 
 ing toward its master's house. The composite body 
 odor it had known for so many years had changed, 
 and ceased abruptly. Whining and whimpering, the 
 
540 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 dog- searched the air currents, but in vain; the scent 
 came no more. Then, sinking back on its haunches, 
 it raised its gray nose to the sky and poured out its 
 grief in one long, quavering howl of surprising volume. 
 
 The sleeping square sprang to life, superstitious 
 terror dominated the barracks. Lights gleamed sud- 
 denly and the barracks door opened slowly, grudging- 
 ly as frightened soldiers hurriedly crossed themselves. 
 Don Jesu and Robideau pushed hesitatingly to the 
 portal and peered fearsomely into the night. They 
 suddenly cried out, drew their ancient pistols, and 
 fired at two vague figures slinking hurriedly along 
 the side of the house opposite. From the darkness 
 there came quick replies. A coruscating poniard of 
 spiteful flame stabbed into the night. Don Jesu 
 whirled on buckling legs and pitched sidewise to the 
 street. A second stab of sparky flame split the dark- 
 ness and Robideau reeled back into the arms of his 
 panicky soldiers. As the heavy reports rolled through 
 the town they seemed to be a signal, for on the south- 
 ern outskirts of Santa Fe gun after gun crashed in a 
 rippling, spasmodic volley. A few stragglers in the 
 all but deserted streets raised a dreaded cry and fled 
 to the nearest shelter. The cry was taken up and 
 sent rioting through the city; doors were doubly 
 barred and the soldiers in the barracks, safer behind 
 the thick mud walls than they would be out in the 
 dark open against such an enemy, slammed shut the 
 ponderous door and frantically built barricades of 
 everything movable. 
 
 " Los Tejanos! " rolled the panicky cries. " Los 
 Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 
 
LOS TEJANOS!'* 34F 
 
 The wailing warning of the coming of a plague: 
 could not have held more terror. Gone were the 
 vaunted boastings and the sneers ; gone was the swag- 
 gering bravado of the dashing cahalleros, who had said 
 what they would do to any Texan force that dared 
 to brave the wrath of the defenders of San Francisco 
 de la Santa Fe. Gone was all faith, never too sincere, 
 in ancient escopeta and rusty blunderbuss, now that 
 the occasion was close at hand to measure them 
 against the devil weapons of hardy Texan fighting' 
 men, of the breed that had stood off, bloody day after 
 bloody day, four thousand Mexican regulars before a: 
 little adobe church, now glorified for all the ages yet to 
 come. To panicky minds came magic words of evil 
 portent; the Alamo and San Jacinto. To evil con- 
 sciences, bowed with guilt, came burning memories 
 of that sick and starved Texan band that had walked 
 through winter days and shivered through winter 
 nights from Santa Fe to the capital, two thousand, 
 miles of suffering, and every step a torture. Texan 
 ears had swung from a piece of rusty wire to feed the 
 cruel conceit of a swarthy tyrant. 
 
 " Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 
 At the palacio a human brute recoiled before a 
 barred door between him and a desperate captive, 
 his honeyed cajolings turning to acid on his lying 
 tongue. No longer did he hear the measured tread 
 of the palace guards, who secretly exulted as they 
 fled and left him defenseless. 
 
 "Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 
 He dashed through a door to grab his weapons and 
 flee, and in through the open, undefended portal from 
 
642 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 the square leaped a blood-covered Delaware, an epic 
 of rags and rage, a man so maddened that all thought 
 of weapons save Nature's, had gone from his burning 
 brain. Behind him leaped a Blackfoot, dynamic and 
 deadly as a panther, a Colt pistol in one eager, up- 
 raised hand, in the other the cold length of a keen 
 skinning knife. Behind them from a wagon deserted 
 in the square came the sharp crashes of Hawken and 
 Colt, and a shouted battlecry : *' Remember th' Alamo! 
 Remember th' Alamo! Texans to th' fore!" 
 
 As the Delaware dashed past an open door he 
 caught a flurry of movement, the flare of a pistol and 
 his laughter pealed out in one mad shout as he 
 stopped like a cat and leaped in through the opening. 
 Another flash, another roar, and a burning welt across 
 a shoulder spurred the bloody Nemesis to a greater 
 speed. The wavering sword he knocked aside and 
 near two hundred pounds of fighting, mountain sinew 
 hurled itself behind a driving fist. The hurthng bulk 
 of Armijo crashed against a wall and dropped like a 
 bag of grain as the plunging Delaware whirled to 
 pounce upon it. As he turned, a scream rang out 
 somewhere behind him, through the door he had just 
 entered, a scream vibrant with desperate hope, and 
 he bellowed a triumphant answer. Here was his 
 mission; Armijo was a side issue. The governor, 
 helpless before him, was forgotten and the Delaware 
 whirled through the door bellowing one name over 
 and over again. "Patience! Patience! Patience!'' 
 
 "Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" came from the pub- 
 lic square. 
 
 "Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" quavered the de- 
 
LOS TEJANOSr 343 
 
 spairing echo throughout the quaking town, while 
 from the south there came the steady crash of alien 
 rifles, firing harmlessly into the air. 
 
 Before him a Blackfoot methodically battered at a 
 door, taking a few quick steps backward and a plung- 
 ing dive forward. The Delaware shouted again and 
 added the power of his driving weight. There came 
 a splintering crash and the door went in. The Black- 
 foot whirled and darted to the great portal leading to 
 the square, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a 
 cougar expecting danger at every point. The Dela- 
 ware scrambled to his feet and gathered a white- 
 faced woman in his arms, crushing her to his bloody 
 chest. He felt her go suddenly limp and, throwing 
 her across a bare and bleeding shoulder, he drew a 
 Colt repeating pistol and sprang after his Indian ally, 
 not feeling the weight of his precious burden. 
 
 Lurid, stabbing rapiers of fire still sprang from the 
 wagon barricade, making death certain to any man 
 who opened the barracks' door. Between their heavy 
 roars the woodwork of the wagon smacked sharply 
 in time to bursts of fire from the barracks' few win- 
 dows. The Delaware darted from the palacio door 
 and held close to the wall, hidden by the portico and 
 the darkness. As he reached the end of the column- 
 supported roof the Blackfoot bulked out of the night 
 on his horse, and leading four others. The lost-soul 
 call of a loon sounded and changed the deadly wagon 
 into a vehicle of peace and quiet as its Arapahoe de- 
 fenders slipped away from it. The sudden creaking 
 of saddle leather was followed by the rolling thunder 
 of flying hoofs as the first three horses left the square. 
 
344 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 A moment's pause and then two more horses galloped 
 through the darkness after the others, the Arapahoe 
 rear guard sitting almost sidewise in their saddles, 
 their long, hot rifles pointing backward to send hotter 
 greetings to whoever might follow. 
 
 They raced like gambling fools through the dark 
 night, the Blackfoot leading the way with the instinct 
 of a homing bird. Mile after mile strung out behind 
 them, pastures, gullies, knolls rolling past. While 
 they climbed and dipped and circled they gradually 
 sensed a steady rising of the ground. Suddenly the 
 Blackfoot shouted for them to halt, and the laboring 
 horses welcomed the moment's breathing space. The 
 guide threw himself on the ground and pressed his 
 ear against it. In a moment he was back in the saddle 
 and gave the word to go on again. He had heard 
 no sounds of pursuit and he chuckled as he leaned 
 over close to the Delaware who rode at his flank. 
 
 " Nothin' stirrin' behind us, fur's I could make out," 
 he said. "They can only track us by sound in th* 
 dark, at any speed, an' I'm gamblin' they w^ait fer 
 daylight. Thar scared ter stick thar noses out o* 
 doors this night. How's yore gal?" 
 
 Tom's rumbling reply could mean anything and 
 they kept on through the night without further words. 
 The trail had been growing steadily rougher and 
 steeper and the horses were permitted to fall into a 
 swinging lope. Another hour passed and then Hank 
 signalled for a stop. From his lips whistled the 
 crowded, hurried, repeated call of a whip-poor-will. 
 Three times the insistent demand rang out, clear and 
 piercing. At the count of ten an echoing whistle 
 
"LOS TEJANOS!" 545 
 
 sounded and a light flickered on the trail ahead. 
 
 "J'get her?" bawled a voice, tremulous with fear 
 and anxiety, and only a breath ahead of another. 
 
 " Hell yes ! " roared Hank. " Got Salezar, Don Jesu 
 and Robideau, too; only we left them behind — with 
 thar ears ! " 
 
 In another moment Uncle Joe and Adam Cooper 
 took the precious burden from the Delaware's numbed 
 arms, someone uncovered the lighted candle lantern, 
 and saddles were thrown on fresh mounts. The 
 Pueblo pushed forward and peered into Patience's 
 fac€, and his own face broke into smiles. His torrent 
 of mixed Spanish and Indian brought a grin to Hank's 
 painted countenance. 
 
 " This hyar shore is good beaver," he chuckled, 
 clapping the Pueblo on the shoulder, " but thar's more 
 good news fer you." He put his mouth close to the 
 Pueblo's ear and whispered : " Yer friend Salezar will 
 be leadin' a percession ter th' buryin' ground. That 
 Delaware thar killed him with his bare hands!" 
 
 The Pueblo touched Tom's arm, his hand passing 
 down it caressingly, to be seized in a grip which made 
 him wince; and when Adam Cooper offered him a 
 handful of gold coins the Indian drew himself up 
 proudly and pushed them away. 
 
 "For his friends Pablo do what he can," he said 
 in Spanish. "I now take these horses back on the 
 trail to make a puzzle in the sand that will take time 
 to read. Pablo does not forget. Adios! " He vault- 
 ed onto his horse, took the lead ropes of the tired 
 mounts, and was lost in the darkness, eager to weave 
 a pattern of hoof marks to mock pursuing eyes. 
 
346 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 The little cavalcade pushed on, following a trail 
 that wound along the sides of the mountains, passing 
 many places where a handful of resolute men could 
 check scores. The cold mountain air bit shrewdly, 
 and occasional gusts of wind blustered along the tim- 
 bered slopes and set the pines and cedars whispering. 
 Higher and higher went the narrow trail, skirting 
 sheer walls of rock on one side, and dizzy precipices 
 on the other; higher and higher plodded the little car- 
 avan in single file, following the unhesitant leader. 
 
 There came a leaden glow high up on the right. 
 It paled swiftly as a streak of silver flared up behind 
 the jagged crests of the mountains, here and there 
 caught by a snow mantle to gleam in virgin white. 
 On the left lay abysmal darkness, like a lake of ink, 
 and slowly out of it pushed ranks of treetops as the 
 dawn rolled downward and the mountain fogs dis- 
 solved in dew. Deep canons, sheer precipices; long 
 streaks on mountain sides where resistless avalanches 
 had scraped all greenery from the glistening rock; 
 green amphitheaters, fit for fairy pageants; velvety 
 knolls and jewels of mountain pastures lay below them, 
 with here and there the crystal gleam of ribbon-like 
 mountain brooks, their waters embarked on a long, 
 depressing journey through capricious oceans of bil- 
 lowy sands and the salty leagues of desert wastes. 
 Birds flashed among the branches, chipmunks chat- 
 tered furiously at these unheeding invaders of their 
 mountain fastness; high up on a beetling crag a big- 
 horn ram was silhouetted in rigid majesty, and over 
 all lazily drifted an eagle against the paling western 
 sky, symbolical of freedom. 
 
"LOS TEJANOS!'' 347 
 
 There came the musical tinkle of falling water and 
 Hank stopped, raising his hand. Into the little moun- 
 tain dell the caravan wound and in a moment muscles 
 tired and cramped from long, hard riding found relief 
 in a score of little duties. While the animals were 
 relieved of saddles and packs and securely picketed, 
 and a fire made of dry wood from a bleached windfall, 
 Hank climbed swiftly up the mountain side for a 
 view of the back trail. Perched on an out-thrust fin- 
 ger of rock high above the dell he knelt motionless, 
 searching with keen and critical eyes every yard of 
 that windswept trail, following it along its sloping 
 length until it shrunk into a hair line across the frown- 
 ing mountain sides and then faded out entirely. Be- 
 low him grotesque figures moved about like gnomes 
 performing incantations around a tiny blaze ; dwarfed 
 horses cropped the plentiful grass and succulent 
 leaves, and a timid streamer of pale blue smoke arose 
 like a plumb line until the cruising gusts above the 
 tree-tops tore it into feathery wisps and carried it 
 away. Across the valley the rising sun pushed golden 
 floods of light into crevices, among the rocks, and 
 turned the pines and cedars into glistening cones of 
 green on stems of jet. 
 
 " Wall," said a voice below him, " hyar I am. Go 
 down an' feed. See anythin'?" 
 
 Hank leaned over and looked down at the climbing 
 figure, whose laborious progress sent a noisy stream 
 of clicking pebbles behind him like sparks from a 
 rocket. 
 
 " Nothin' I ain't plumb glad ter see," replied Hank. 
 "This hyar beats th' settlements all ter hell." As 
 
3^48 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 Jim's horrible face peered over the edge of the rock 
 balcony Hank eyed it critically and shook his head. 
 "I've seen some plumb awful lookin' 'Rapahoes; but 
 nothin' ter stack up ag'in you. Vermillion mebby is 
 yer favorite color, but it don't improve yer looks 
 a hull lot. Neither does that sorrel juice. How's th* 
 gal?" 
 
 " Full o' spunk an' gittin' chipper as a squirrel," 
 answered Jim. " Who's goin' ter git th' blame fer 
 last night's fandango?" 
 
 " Four murderin' Injuns, a-plunderin' an' a-kid- 
 nappin'," chuckled Hank. " Woodson's goin' ter raise 
 hell about th' hull Cooper fambly bein' stole. Ar- 
 mijo'll keep his mouth shet an' pass th' crime along 
 ter us, an' make a great show o' gittin' us; but," he 
 winked knowingly at his accomplice in the night's 
 activities, " chasin' four desperite Injuns along an 
 open trail, whar his sojers kin spread out an' take 
 advantage o' thar bein' twenty ter one is one thing; 
 chasin' 'em along a trail like this, whar they has ter 
 ride Injun fashion, is a hull lot difif'rent. They've had 
 thar bellies full o' chasin' along Injun trails in th' 
 mountings. Th' Apaches, Utes, an' Comanches has 
 showed 'em it don't pay. Thar's sharpshooters that 
 can't be got at ; thar's rollin' rocks, an' ambushes ; an' 
 chasin' murderin' Injuns afoot up mounting sides ain't 
 did in this part o' th' country." 
 
 " Meanin' we won't be chased?" demanded Jim, 
 incredulously. 
 
 " Not meanin' nothin' o' th' kind, " growled Hank, 
 spitting into three hundred feet of void. " We killed 
 some of th' military aristo-crazy, as Tom calls 'em, 
 
''LOS TEJANOS!" 349 
 
 didn't we ? We made fools outer th' whole prairie-dog 
 town, didn't we? An' what's worse, we stole th' gal 
 that Armijo war sweet on, an' Tom knocked him 
 end over end — oh, Jim, ye should 'a' seen that! Six 
 feet o' greaser gov'ner a-turnin' a. cartwheel in his 
 own house ! Chase us ? Hell, yes ! " 
 
 The Arapahoe rubbed his chin. " Fust ye say one 
 thing, then ye say another. What ye mean, OV 
 Buffaler?" 
 
 " I'm bettin' thar's a greaser army a-poundin' along 
 th' wagon road fer Raton Pass," replied Hank, spitting 
 again with great gusto. "We're a Delaware from 
 Bent's, a Blackfoot from th' Upper Missoury, an' two 
 ugly 'Rapahoes from 'tother side o' St. Vrains, ain't 
 we? Wall, if ye know a fox's den ye needn't f oiler 
 him along th' ridges." He chuckled again. " We're 
 go'm! another way over some Ute trails I knows of." 
 
 " But s'posin' they f oiler us along this trail?" 
 
 Hank looked speculatively back along the narrow 
 pathway, with its numerous bends, and then glanced 
 pityingly at his anxious friend. " I jest told ye why 
 they won't; an' if they do, let 'em!" 
 
 Ogden looked steadily southward along the trail and 
 suddenly laughed: "Yes; let 'em!" 
 
 In the great courtyard of Bent's Fort one evening 
 more than a week later, three trappers sat with their 
 backs against the brass cannon that scowled at the 
 heavy doors. They were planning their winter's trip 
 in the mountains, figuring out the supplies and para- 
 phernalia for a party of four, when Hank, glancing 
 up, saw two people slowly walking along the high, 
 wide parapet on the side toward the Arkansas. He 
 
350 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 
 
 raised an arm, pointing, and his companions, following 
 it with their eyes, saw the two figures suddenly be- 
 come like one against the moonlit sky. 
 
 Hank sighed, bit his lip, and looked down. 
 
 " Better figger on a party o' three," he said. 
 
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