Grizzly Killer: Under The Blood Moon Page 20

  He walked back to the fire where Running Wolf was adding another log to it. And Running Wolf, seeing the troubled look on Grizzly Killer’s face said, “Jimbo will return. I dozed off for a minute a little while ago and I saw Jimbo leading the way for us today.” Zach smiled but figured Running Wolf was just trying to make him feel better.

  As the darkness started to fade with the coming dawn the clouds had moved further east. The sky was still mighty dark along the eastern horizon but as the sun rose there were shafts of light shooting upward from behind the dark clouds. As soon as it was light enough to see they cleaned and reloaded their rifles. With fresh powder in the pans they stood and looked out into the distance deciding which way to go to start looking for Jimbo, Ol’ Red and the horses.

  As Zach turned and looked way out to the north a slight movement caught his eye and as he watched that movement it looked more and more like horses headed their way. He pointed and asked Running Wolf, “What do ya make of that?”

  After Running Wolf saw the movement and watched for a minute he started to smile and said, “Looks like that mule of yours is comin’ back.” Another couple of minutes later and they could see Ol’ Red and all three horses trotting right back to them.

  Just as Running Wolf said, “Now we gotta find Jimbo.” He saw a huge smile forming on Grizzly Killer’s face and then Running Wolf could see why… just above the brush behind the horses he too could see the head and back of the huge dog herding Ol’ Red and the horses right back to them.

  As Ol’ Red trotted into camp Zach dropped to his knees and waited for Jimbo to come to him. He put his arms around the huge dog and hugged him letting him lick his face. Running Wolf smiled, not sure which of the two were happier to see the other. After Zach finally stood Jimbo went right over to Running Wolf and jumped up putting his front paws on Running Wolf’s shoulders. Zach laughed at the sight of the dog’s head towering above Running Wolf’s and of the look on Running Wolf’s face as the huge wet tongue went right across his face. Ol’ Red pushed Zach in the back with his head, almost knocking him off his feet for he wasn’t going to be left out of this happy reunion.

  They saddled up and started south along the east side of the river. They were hungry but knew before the day was over they would find something to fill their empty bellies. They had gone less than a quarter of a mile when the wind damage stopped. Zach rode up on a little hill that was only a few hundred yards from the river and turned in his saddle looking back from where they came and could see the damage that was done by the twisting wind as it tore its way across the river bottom and out across the sage covered plain.

  He stayed up off the river while Running Wolf stayed right along the river with Jimbo casting back and forth way out in front of them. About midday Running Wolf stopped and with his signaling mirror flashed Zach and he turned Ol’ Red and headed right down to where Running Wolf waited.

  As he approached, Running Wolf was down walking around the remains of a fire. The coals were cold and the storm had washed away the tracks. Running Wolf said, “This was made by white men. See how the rocks were set and left. No Indian would leave sign he had been here.”

  Zach nodded and asked, “Any tracks at all?”

  “Not find any, yet.”

  Zach headed for the other side of the river to see if there was any sign there and as he made his way through the brush and willows he saw part of a track in the mud. It was protected by the foliage and he dismounted for a better look. As he moved the brush back out of the way he could tell it was the imprint of a large boot heel. He knew now that he had been right figuring the Beaumont brothers were following the river south. Knowing they were at least a half day ahead he and Running Wolf mounted up, crossed to the other side of the river and started south once again.

  They traveled at a steady pace and by late afternoon crossed back over to the east side of the river to check for tracks once again. Out in the sage a couple of hundred yards from the river they found the fresh tracks of four horses. Running Wolf figured they had made up a little time but the four they were following were moving almost as fast as they were. Zach spotted a herd of fifteen or twenty antelope just a little way west of the river and called a halt in their pursuit to get some meat since they’d had nothing at all since midday yesterday.

  Running Wolf moved down along the river to get a fire started while Zach back-tracked almost a mile then crossed the river and started his hunt from the back side of a low rise. He moved slow and steady knowing it was going to take all of his skill to get within rifle range of these wary prairie goats. He stopped Ol’ Red and let the reins just drop to the ground and very slowly crawled to the high spot where he could look through the sage. He was still a quarter mile from the antelope and so he just studied the lay of the land looking for any kind of depression that would conceal him as he moved within rifle range. He crawled, moving very slow for the next 45 minutes then very carefully parted the sage again to locate the herd only to find they had moved a couple of hundred yards further south.

  He got back down in this shallow little wash he was crawling in and started south once more. He had moved less than a hundred yards when he heard the frightful buzzing of a rattle snake coming from under a sage just to the side of his head. He froze dead still as the rattler buzzed his tail in warning. He knew the snake was coiled ready to strike even though he dared not move his head to look. He stayed right there still as a tree trunk for what seemed like forever until he heard the snake uncoil and move off through the sage. His neck was stiff and his back ached from staying in that position, tense as he was, but he continued on.

  He braved another look through the sage from the rim of this little shallow wash and saw the antelope were nearly in range. Another fifty yards and he figured he could make the shot. He slowly moved forward not making a sound for that distance and very carefully brought his Hawken up. He got his knees under him and just when he started to rise, a jackrabbit spooked and ran directly for the antelope. The antelope spooked and started running. Zach swung his rifle onto the closest one and put the sights right on its front shoulder. He then moved the sights forward in a smooth precise movement and when the front sight was five or six feet in front of the fast running animal he put pressure on the trigger until he felt the familiar recoil and heard the boom of the rifle going off. The antelope collapsed and slid to a stop.

  He stood and stretched his weary muscles. Turning toward where he had left Ol’ Red, he whistled loud and long then walked over to the downed antelope and started to gut it. He was just finishing when both Ol’ Red and Jimbo showed up. He sliced off a few pieces of the still warm liver and gave them to Jimbo as he ate one himself.

  He threw the antelope behind the saddle then climbed in the saddle and they followed Jimbo back to where Running Wolf had a nearly smokeless fire going in a thick grove of cottonwoods with willows along the river bank.

  Running Wolf cut the choice cuts off the Antelope and put them on sticks around the fire to roast. Zach found a flat rock, put it on the coals at the fires edge and placed the liver on the stone to slowly cook, it would be their breakfast.

  They knew they had lost time having to stop to hunt but they needed to eat and they didn’t know how long this chase would last. They talked as the fire died down to a glowing bed of coals then lay down one on each side of the fire as the stars lit up the night sky over this sage covered prairie. The night was cold and before morning came they added wood to the coals and kept a small fire going.

  They were up before dawn warming themselves with movement and were on the trail again heading south before the stars had faded with the coming light. They ate most of the liver for breakfast and Jimbo finished what they couldn’t. There wasn’t time to dry the rest of the meat and they had no salt to cure it with so they would eat all they could today and would have to hunt again tomorrow.

  They were now following clear tracks of the four horses and just after noon they came upon where the Beaumont brothers had camped f
or the night. Running Wolf figured they had lost an hour or so on them by stopping early yesterday to hunt.

  For the next three hours they moved at a steady lope. Fast enough to cover the ground quickly but not so fast the horses wouldn’t last. Late in the afternoon, Zach moved up on top of a butte just east of the river where he could see for miles ahead and, studying the river bottom maybe three or four miles ahead he could see a faint trail of smoke reaching for the sky. He studied the land and he figured the best approach would be from the other side of the river. There were low hills maybe a half mile west of the river and he could see a wash coming from them down to where he figured the Beaumont’s were camped.

  When he was satisfied with the route he had picked out he rode back down to the river and Running Wolf. After he explained to Running Wolf what he had in mind they crossed the river and left the river bottom and rode into the hills to the west. Once out of sight of the river they headed south and when they had covered about three miles they stopped. Leaving Ol’ Red and their horses behind a row of low hills they crawled to the top of one of them. They could see the column of smoke now only a half mile below them and the wash Zach had seen was coming out of these hills and down to the river.

  They moved back off the hills and into the wash where it was slick and muddy from the rains of a couple of days ago. The mud was slick clay and although the wash was deep enough to conceal them it was very difficult to walk in. The clay was sticking to their moccasins and they both slipped and fell several times by the time they were nearing the river. Grizzly Killer figured they were a couple of hundred yards above the camp and they carefully crawled out of the wash and into the brush.

  It was early evening as they quietly approached the column of smoke. Running Wolf was several feet to the left of Grizzly Killer and Jimbo was in between the two of them. As they got close voices could be heard over the sounds of the flowing river. But as they listened it was clear the voices were not speaking English. Then they were startled by a blood curdling scream and loud laughter of other men.

  They continued carefully moving forward, staying in the cover of the brush but moving so slowly no sound could be heard. Zach, with a hand signal, sent Jimbo out around to get to the opposite side of this camp they were approaching. It seemed like forever but finally Zach could see through the brush. There were three Arapaho braves sitting around a small fire with a forth standing over a naked white man staked to the ground. The one standing was holding a burning branch and was a very strong-looking man. As Running Wolf was getting into position Zach watched the standing brave walk back to the fire and hold the branch in the flames and when it was burning bright once again he went back and held the fire to the bottom of the white man’s left foot. There was another scream and moaning and Zach heard the man pleading, “No more, please no more! Jus’ kill me you red bastard.” At that there was more laughter.

  Running Wolf was now in position, with a silent look between the two of them they brought their rifles up and with a nearly undetectable nod of Zach’s head they both fired. Running Wolf had shot the one standing while Zach took the one closest to him by the fire. Just as he got to his feet he heard the terrible growl of Jimbo’s attack and as the last remaining brave jumped away from the fire and the attack of this huge dog, Zach was there with his tomahawk.

  But the brave’s reflexes were lighting fast and he dove under the fearful blade. He hit the ground and rolled to his feet only to find the butt of Running Wolf’s rifle coming right for his face. He tried to duck again but the edge of the brass kick plate caught him with a glancing blow and opened up his scalp from just above his eye clear back to his ear. He hit the ground stunned and Zach kicked him in the side of his head knocking him out completely. Jimbo finally let go of the neck of the one he had attacked and there was a large pool of blood spreading across the ground under the Indian’s head.

  With a quick look at the carnage that had been caused by their attack and making sure the Arapaho’s all were down to stay, Zach nodded at his partner and patted Jimbo on his head then went over to the man staked to the ground, cringing at the sight. Both of his eyes had been burned out, hot coals had been placed all over his naked body. The bottoms of both of his feet were severely burned and the burning branch had been placed right between his legs burning his manhood and the inside of both legs. He was alive but they both knew he wouldn’t be for long. Running Wolf stated, “This man was at the rendezvous with Bull.” Zach looked again and nodded as he recognized Lester as one of Bull Beaumont’s friends.

  Zach took his knife and cut the man loose. There was a water pouch by the fire and he got it and wet his lips and hair bringing him back to consciousness. Lester moaned and with a weak voice asked, “Is it you, Ben? Did ya kill all dem red bastards?”

  Zach carefully lowered his head and told him, “It ain’t Ben mister, but we did kill these Arapaho. What happened here?”

  “We’s was ridin’ south lookin’ fer this feller they’s call Grizzly Killer when we was jumped by these here bucks. Ben, Cal an’ me an’ Ab all took off to beat all hell but my harse stepped in a badger hole and busted his leg. I went flyin’ an’ Ben an’ Cal an’ Ab just kept right on goin’. I didn’t figure they’s would come back fer me.”

  “You mean Ben and Cal Beaumont.”

  “Yah, ya knows ‘em?”

  “I’m the one they call Grizzly Killer.”

  Lester jumped then groaned from the pain of his movement and continued, “Mister, me and my pards was headed back home when we’s run onto Ben and Cal on da Sweet Water headin’ to Jackson’s Hole ta meet up with Bull an’ the rest of us. When we’s told ‘em you done put Bull under back at the Ronnyvoo, Cal told us we’s was gonna help him find you so’s he could get even for you killin’ his brother. Ol’ Bill, he protested an’ Cal jus’ up an’ shot ‘im. After we jus’ watched ‘im shoot Bill none of the rest of us was arguin’ none.”

  Zach gave him more water as his voice was getting weak and he laid his head back down. Lester, in a whisper now said, “I knows it were a fair fight, mister, you killin’ Bull but that don’t make no never mind with Cal or Ben. I’s didn’t want no trouble with ya, I’s was goin’ home but I’s done fer now. Please don’t leave me like this. Just shoot me an’ get it over with.”

  Grizzly Killer looked up at Running Wolf with a sad and mournful look, Running Wolf just nodded slightly and turned away. As Zach slowly pulled his pistol from under the broad belt tied around his waist he asked Lester, “Can you tell us where Cal and Ben are headed?”

  “To the mountains to the south, that’s all that Shoshone buck told us.” Zach told Lester he would get a decent burial then pulled the trigger, putting Lester Gooding out of his misery forever.

  Give ‘em the Slip

  Zach and Running Wolf scraped out a grave as deep as they could using sticks and rocks then wrapped Lester’s burned and scarred body in one of the Arapaho’s sleeping robes and laid him in the grave. They covered it with dirt and then piled rocks over it so the wolves and coyotes couldn’t dig it up.

  While Zach lashed together a cross, Running Wolf was going through the Arapaho’s belongings. He found several small bags of jerky, sleeping robes and water pouches. The Arapaho’s had killed Lester’s horse but his saddle was still on it and he took the saddle and put it on one of the Arapaho’s horses. He turned two of the horses loose and kept two, for he knew they would have to ride hard now to catch the Beaumont’s.

  After they filled the water pouches and secured their new found supplies onto the horses, they headed south again. It took only a few minutes to pick up the tracks of the three horses they had been following but of a greater concern were the six other sets of tracks from the rest of the Arapaho war party that had given chase.

  They followed the tracks keeping an eye way out in front for they knew the Beaumont’s mounts nor the Indian’s could keep up the full out run that this chase had started with. It was just before dark, they had traveled less than two miles
, when they spotted a lone horse standing with its head down in the short sage just off the river.

  As they got closer the horse raised its head and watched as they approached. Although his color was a dark sorrel his neck and withers were nearly white with the dried lather from the sweat of his exertion. It was Jimbo that found the arrow riddled and scalped body of Abel Calloway. He was lying in the sage about fifty yards from where his exhausted horse stood. Zach could envision what had happened by the tracks. As Abel’s horse had started to fall behind the Arapaho’s had gained and an arrow in the back had sent Abel to the ground. Then all six of the screaming, taunting Indians fired arrows into this downed white man. One had jumped down and hurriedly scalped him then they all had continued their chase of the Beaumont’s.

  As Running Wolf was taking the saddle and bridle off of Abel’s done-in sorrel he made the comment, “These Arapaho dogs might take care of the Beaumont’s for us if we give ‘em the time.”