The six
peacekeepers were riding for about six hours.
They had left Four Corners at dawn, taking only long enough to say
goodbye to Mary Travis, Inez and the Judge and letting know their plans for
traveling.
Vin led the
group, stopping to check the trail every hour or so. So far, there was no sign of Chris Larabee’s passing. They had almost ridden into a Comanche
hunting party about two hours ago. But
due to Vin’s diligence, they had avoided any confrontation with the roving
party. Vin explained that it was a good
idea for them not to be seen. Although
he knew the Comanche people well, he also knew that they would not take it
likely that white men were in their country.
Although the government and the settlers would not deem it so, the land
had been the Comanche’s before it was anyone else’s. Vin knew this and respected this. Some white men died because they did not. Vin had survived
because he had always shown them respect as was due to them.
As Vin
stopped again and the others looked at him with concern and anticipation.
“What’s
wrong, Vin?” asked Nathan. “ Did ya find somethin’?”
“Nope. Not, yet.
But I will,” came his soft response.
Vin knew that Chris was out there, alive somewhere. He just needed to find out where. He had been searching the trail and so far,
had found no clue as to his whereabouts.
But he knew through his connection to Larabee’s soul that he was getting
near and he was not about to give up now.
Nathan and
Josiah kept a close eye on the Tracker.
Although he had told them several times on the trail that he was fine,
they could see the tiredness and exhaustion he was suffering from worrying
about Chris. Lately, the usually, the
graceful young man had been stumbling ever so often in his steps the past
couple of hours. He had not eaten since
yesterday when he just picked at his food.
Both Nathan and Josiah were worried that they would lose another friend
and did not want that to happen.
“Hey,
Vin. Why don’t we just take a break
right now?” piped up Nathan. “Ya can
take a rest also.”
“Yeah,
Vin. Nathan’s right. The horses need a rest and so do we all,”
joined in Josiah.
“Ya can do
what cha want, but I ain’t tired,” replied Vin sharply.
“Whoa, there
Pard,” intervened Buck. “We got
time. Chris is out there and he ain’t
goin’ nowhere for the time being.”
Vin turned to
glare directly at Buck and the others.
Buck looked at that glare, and knew Vin would have made Chris Larabee
real proud.
“Now, don’t
cha go and usin’ that Larabee look with me, Pard. Chris is my friend too.
But I’m sure he wouldn’a like if, if ya killed yourself lookin’ for ‘im,
now would he?” came Buck’s counter.
Vin knew Buck
was right, but he also knew Chris was close and he was not about to lose the
best friend he ever had. Chris was the
one that stood by him when he told him he was wanted for murder in Tascosa,
Texas. Chris was the one who was
willing to risk the hangman’s noose to set him free when Eli Joe showed up with
that fake marshal. No. He was not going to let Chris Larabee
die. No matter what it would cost him.
“I need ta
scout out ahead. Ya’ll can wait for me
here till I get back.”
“I’ll go with
ya, Vin.”
“Nah, J.D. Ya stay here with the others. I need ta do this alone.”
“And when
will you be back, my adept colleague?” queried Ezra, getting down from his
horse, Chaucer.
“When I get
back, Ezra. Whenever that is,” was
Vin’s simply reply.
Ezra looked
to the others and shrugged his shoulders.
He knew what the others were trying to do and he had tried his best to
assist them, but it seemed that the Tracker was exactly like their fearless
leader. Hard-headed as a mule.
They all knew
they were losing the battle to keep Vin here and they felt fear at
relinquishing their hold on him.
Vin knew what
his friends were trying to do and he knew they were worried about him. He knew he should be thankful to have just
good and caring friends, but he was worried about one friend in particular and
was concern that there was no one there for him.
“Listen I
thank ya for the concern, but Chris is more important than anythin’ ‘bout me,
understand?”
The others
stared in sympathy. They did understand
as it was how they were all feeling, but they also knew that it was
unreasonable to think that Chris would expect them to come without heed to
their own well being. If he did, then
he would not be Chris. He put others’
concerns before his own. They knew it
would not make him happy once they found him that they had taken ill care of
one of their own.
“Listen,
Vin. Why don’t we do this,” chimed in
J.D. “We can get some rest first, for a few minutes and then the horses will be
able to ride for a little while longer before we hit night. How’s that?” J.D. had decided to plead to his
humanitarian side. The one he had
especially for animals. In this way,
Vin could save face from admitting that he was tired and that would give the
others an opportunity to make the stubborn tracker rest.
Vin looked
thoughtfully at J.D. and the others.
Peso and the other horses did need a rest. That was true. They had been riding them hard and he knew
Chris would never go for that considering his love of horses. He also knew that the others were right in
the preposition that if the horses rested awhile they would get more out of
them before night. And he needed to get
further along than where they were currently.
Vin nodded in
agreement, slowly. “We rest for two
hours, but as soon as the horses are rested, we get saddled up, okay?”
The others
all nodded gratefully and started dismounting and unsaddling their horses. Vin did the same, but with much regret. “Just hang on, Chris. We’re coming,” he thought to himself.
The evening
came quickly for the six peacekeepers.
They all felt the lost of their friend and leader tremendously. But they also knew it was becoming
detrimental for Vin. He had pushed them
harder as soon as the two hours were up.
They had been riding for six hours now.
They needed sleep and the horses needed rest. Vin was acting as if he was possessed by a demon, always urging
them on to another rise over a hill or another mile or so. They could see that his body was losing,
although his will was determined. Twice
he almost fell from his horse when he tried to dismount to check the
trail. The others noticed it, but said
nothing. But now it was becoming
apparent that the young tracker would die before giving up the hunt. Nathan in particular, was one who feared
this the most. He was totally and
unequivocally wrangled by it. He tried
to talk the Tracker into listening to his friends several times, and each time
Vin refused to hear it. He simply walked away.
But Nathan was not the kind of person to give up easily either.
It was
getting dark and Vin still rode onward in front of the others, searching with
his eyes, which burned from too little sleep.
Nathan and Josiah had thought up a plan that would make Vin take the
rest he deserved so much. The others
would back them up, if needed. But
Nathan and Josiah decided that they would the best ones to carry out the plan
since once Vin realized what they had done to him, he might take it upon
himself to avenge the deed. Nathan and
Josiah knew that they would be least likely to come under fire from the young
ex-bounty hunter.
As Vin got
off his horse to check the trail again, Nathan and Josiah walked over to where
he knelt.
“So,
Vin. Did ya find anything?” asked
Josiah.
“Nope. But I will, believe me.”
“Let me take
a look, Vin. Maybe I can see something
that you can’t.” said Josiah, winking at Nathan above Vin’s bent back.
As Josiah
started to bend down where Vin knelt, grabbed a hold of Vin’s shoulder and
without hesitating, slammed his fist into Vin’s face. Vin, of course, being caught off guard and exhausted had not seen
it coming. All he knew was the pain he
felt as Josiah’s face connected with his jaw.
Vin fell flat on to the hard ground, unmoving.
Nathan then
rushed over and checked Vin. He said,
“He’s out like a light. And he’s got a
bruise on his face, but he is alive and breathing. I’m sorry it had ta be this way, Vin. But luckily, ya got a hard head.”
Nathan then
turned to the others and motioned for them to set up camp and create a pallet
to the lay the unconscious tracker on.
He also told J.D. to get his saddlebags and start boiling some hot
water. He knew when Vin awoke; he would
need some of his healing herb tea.
Chris woke
with a start, sitting up quickly. Too
quickly in fact that he felt the pain which set his back on fire. He looked around, panicking, not realizing
where he was. Then he remembered Mapiya
and the Cheyenne who had helped him. He
must have fallen asleep sometime earlier, but he could not remember when. His mind flitted between the waking world
and the dream world from which he came from.
He dreamt of the longhaired young man, with eyes of sky blue, but this
time the man was accompanied by a tall older man, who wore a mustache and had
brown eyes. But the one thing that
stood out on this person was his smile.
It was infectious and Chris felt some type of connection, not only to
the longhaired, blue-eyed man, but also to this tall, laughing, brown-eyed one
too.
Who were
these men? Where they friends or
foes? From the way he felt, for some
reason, he knew they were friends, but he did not know from where or how. His head started aching again and finally Chris
gave up the thoughts due to the pain.
He would rest for now, and then maybe later, he would try again.
His eyes
started to drift close again, when the flap of the tipi opened and Mapiya
walked in, and she was not alone this time.
There were too Cheyenne braves with her this time, one was a young brave
and the other, looked to be an older brave.
The young brave Chris guessed to be at least in his twenties, the older
brave in his fifties, at least.
They both
stood near the flap entrance, not making any move to come close to Chris. Mapiya walked over to both of the men and with
her right hand, touched the young brave’s chest. “This is ó'kôhóme. Name
mean Coyote. He is brother.” She then
moved to the elderly brave and said “And this is father, Chief Aenohe of the
Heévâhetane. Name Aenohe mean Hawk in
your tongue.”
“What does
the other word mean?” asked Chris curious.
“Heévâhetane? It mean. . . It mean . . .” She then turned to her father and said
something that Chris could not understand.
She then turned back to Chris and said, “It mean Cheyenne, but of a
different place. You white man call the
winds by this name. I think it is
Sooth?” she looked at Chris questioning.
“South? You mean Southern?”
“Ah,
yes. That is it. Soo-thurn.”
“I guess
that’s close enough. It is my pleasure
to meet your brother and your father.”
“It is time
to bring you to Sásóóvéta and the sweat house.
There we will make better and there we will give you new name.”
Chris gaped
at her in shock. New name? He did not want a new name. He wanted his old name back.
Mapiya saw
the distress on his face and the surprise at her statement. She did not mean to bring hurt to this
one. She would never hurt him. She said
quickly, “It is not a true name, but one which we will call you. We cannot keep calling you, man all the time
and in time, you will remember what you are call as true. But this is so you do not go nameless,
without family, without a people. You
will be a part of our people. We will
not force it upon you. We wish you join
us. Become a part of the people. Only until you remember.”
Chris heard
Mapiya’s plead. It was true, he did not
remember who he was, but he did not want to stop trying to find out. Chris thought silently at her words and as
he did the one called “Coyote” said something to Mapiya in an angry tone.
Mapiya turned
to her brother, and said something back, which immediately, the young brave
closed his mouth and stood stern next to the flap door.
“What was
that about?”
Mapiya looked
to Chris unconcerned and said, “He is young.
He speaks like a child. Don’t not
concern.”
Chris did not
like it and he did not like the fact that the young brave was looking at him
with hostility in his eyes.
Mapiya’s
father then step forward. Being a wise
and noble chief, he did not want the man coming among them, not knowing how
some of the people felt about the white man in their midst.
“My son does
speak like a child. But he speaks what
is in his heart, man. Some of the
people believe it a bad medicine for you to stay here. Some people believe that the white men are
like all men and there are good and there are bad and we will see in time which
one of them you are. In the end, I am
Chief and Mapiya is the wise woman of the tribe. Judgement will be made by the
naming ceremony and by your deeds and by the Tribal Council. Nothing else will make the decision but
those.”
Chris looked
at him and nodded his understanding. He
liked this man. He was honest and it
was hard to find an honest men even among his people. He then looked to Mapiya, the woman who had saved his life and
had cared for him. He saw sadness in
her eyes and something else. Was it
fear? What was the fear? That he would deny her request? Yes, that was it. But Chris felt something for this woman. What it was, he did not know. He could not call it love, but there was
something. Friendship, maybe. But as he thought about more, a picture of a
blonde-haired woman, standing in front of a storefront in a black dress. The sight of her for some reason melted his
heart, but for some reason he knew he could not openly show this woman the love
he felt for her. Why he could not, he
did not know.
Chris was
pulled back from his daydream to Mapiya.
She was staring at him with concern.
“Is there something not good?” she asked.
Chris looked at
her, and the grimace on his face that he had when he was daydreaming
faded. “No, Mapiya. I am just a little tired.”
“A little
tired?” questioned Mapiya unconvinced.
“Okay. I am a lot tired.”
“Better. Do not worry. My brother and father will escort you to the sweathouse to make
you better and then we will have the naming ceremony in the Tribal
Council. Our healer waits for you.”
“Do you
consent?” he heard in the voice of Aenohe, the chief.
Chris eyed
Chief Aenohe, pondering his words. He
did not know his own true name at this moment.
But he would not give up trying.
He wanted to make sure that Mapiya and her people understood that he
would not give up trying to find out who he really was.
“Chief
Aenohe, I consent on one condition.”
Mapiya and the Chief waited patiently for him to finish. “I will not
give up trying to find out who I really am.”
Chief Aenohe
nodded. He understood what this man was
going through. To have lost all
knowledge of self, family, friends and a place to belong would be unthinkable
to one of his people. Mapiya also
looked in understanding and saw the sorrow in his face. She would not bravely face the unknown of
forgetfulness and survived it whole.
This man was strong. Stronger
than any other she had known.
“We will not
force you. We only want to help.”
Chris’s face then
turned to one of acceptance and he smiled gently at Mapiya. He nodded his agreement to them.
Chief Aenohe,
Mapiya and ó'kôhóme then started preparing Chris for his journey to the sweat
lodge.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 7
After the
sweat lodge event, Chris was tired out.
The stream and smoke had made him more tired than he was when he first
entered. Upon entering the abode in
which they had him staying, they had helped him to sit heavily down on to his
pallet bed. He wanted to go back to
sleep, but Mapiya and her father would not let him. Mapiya’s brother had left immediately after helping them place
him on his pallet bed. Chris did not
like the way he had looked at him before he left. He was hoping that he was not going to be trouble for him. He realized in the end that he needed to
remember who he was before something bad happened.
He was about
to lie down on the pallet when Mapiya stopped him.
“No, you
cannot.”
“Why not?”
“You must be
dressed.”
“Dressed?”
queried Chris.
“Yes. For the naming.”
“Now?”
“Yes,
yes. It must be now. The tribal elders wait us.”
Chris looked
to Chief Aenohe. He just nodded in
agreement with his daughter.
“Alright. But I think you making a big mistake.”
“No
mis…take,” said Mapiya. “We know here,”
and she pointed to her head. “And,
here,” she said pointing to her heart.
Chris bowed
his head in thought. She was
right. As of this moment, he had no
home, no memory and no life. Here, he
would have a home, a people and life.
It would suffice for the moment, but only for the moment.
Mapiya went
to the side of the tipi and picked up a bundle. She laid the bundle at Chris’ feet and when she opened it up, it
held deerskin breeches and a breechcloth made of some sort of soft red cloth. It also held a deerskin shirt with intricate
beading along the breast and the trim, and a pair of soft deerskin
moccasins. Along with the beading were
shells and elk teeth that made a beautiful design on the front of the shirt. A
red headband with white blue and green beads in a row design.
Chris glared
at her in his usual “you got to be kidding”, glare. Mapiya noticed the glare, but only stood up with her arms folded
across her chest in defiance. She
glared back at him and he knew she would not take “no” for an answer.
Chris sighed heavily
and gave up. He was not going to win
this argument either. He picked up the
clothes and motioned his head towards the flap door. Mapiya looked at him confused, but then she started to
smile. Her brown eyes lighted
gleefully.
“I have seen
naked men before. You have nothing
new,” she stated laughingly.
Chris rolled
his eyes and reddened at her meaning.
“I will not get dress until you leave.”
He was not going to be embarrassed by Mapiya. Not at his own expense.
Mapiya smiled
widened, but she relented. “Very well, man.
But I will be back.” He heard
her laughing as she walked out of the tipi, her father following behind her,
hiding his own smile.
Once they
were gone, Chris smiled to himself.
This was going to be an interesting night, he thought to himself. He wondered what else would happen and
cautiously started getting dress aware of his injuries.
When Mapiya
and her father came back to escort Chris to the Naming Ceremony, Chris saw that
they were dressed in fancy clothes.
Mapiya wore white deerskin dress with intricate beading and decorated
shells. She also wore white moccasins
to match her dress, also woven with colored beads. Her face was painted, as was her father’s. Her hair was plaited
into two long braids with white ribbons on each end. Chris asked about the paint, and Mapiya told him that it was to
show their emotions for this night, which was in celebration of what was to
come.
Chief Aenohe
was dressed as any chief of the Cheyenne in full costume and headdress of eagle
feathers. His tall statue gave Chris the impression that this ceremony was
nothing to be taken likely. Chris got a
feeling of foreboding. Was he doing the
right thing? His mind told him this was all wrong, that he had a home and
friends and family. But his heart spoke
differently when he gazed happily at Mapiya and saw the laughter in her brown
eyes.
Mapiya looked
at the stranger she had come to know as only “the man”. He looked handsome in his Cheyenne garb. His
long blonde hair flowed freely around his shoulder from under the red
headband. The deerskin breeches and
breechcloth fit snuggly around his lower body and legs. The shirt, which was once her brother’s fit
perfectly over his shoulders. He made a
fit image of a Cheyenne brave. Her heart pounded fiercely with desire for this
man, but her mind told her that until this man had proved himself to her and
her people as deserving to be part of the tribe, she could not think about what
she felt for him.
Chris on the
other hand was appraising Mapiya. She
was the one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her white deerskin dress brought out the
darkness of her skin and dark brown eyes.
He did not know if there was someone else out there that he belonged to,
but right at this moment, he only knew that he wanted to belong to Mapiya. The
people he had dreamt of in his world of sleep were slowing fading from his
memory in the bright of reality as he looked at Mapiya.
Suddenly,
Chief Aenohe nodded to his daughter. It
was the signal that it was time. Time
for the ceremony to begin. He looked at Chris and pointed to the flap
entrance. Chris slowly and cautiously
got up from his sitting position. He
almost staggered as he felt himself become dizzy. He was still not fully healed and had a long way to go yet.
Mapiya grabbed his arm gently and led him out of the tipi into the night air.
Chris was led
through the village to the other side.
There on the other side was situated a large tipi. Much larger than the one he shared with
Mapiya and her father. He could hear
many voices coming from inside the tipi and it made him wary. Mapiya saw the look of suspicion on the
man’s face. She knew that he was on his
guard, but she wanted to reassure him that everything would be fine. She grabbed his hand gently and squeezed
it. Chris turned and cast his eyes at
their clasping hands. He then smiled at
Mapiya and squeezed her hand back. Mapiya saw the light in his green eyes and knew
that everything would be fine.
They
continued towards the tipi, Chief Aenohe, leading the way. The chief then held the flap open to motion
Chris and Mapiya inside. Chris glanced
at Mapiya once and followed her as she entered the tipi. Chief Aenohe brought up the rear of their
group.
Once inside
the tipi, Chris found it bright, in contrast to what he saw outside. Many of the tribe were there and the
children, although were not allowed to ring the circle of the large fire that
blazed within, laid on the ground, peeking under the tipi. At the furthest end of the ring of fire sat
three elderly men. Mapiya explained to
Chris that these were the wise men of the tribe. Her father then walked across and took his place next to them. Next to him was his son, glaring hard at
Chris. Chris ignored him. He had seen hate in men’s eyes before. He could not remember when or where, but he
remembered that look. He also knew that
he had never backed down or let their hate put fear into him and he would not
now.
Chris and
Mapiya were motioned to sit at the end in which they were closest to. Mapiya helped the injured Chris sit down and
then followed him. A young Cheyenne
woman came over to them and handed Chris a cup filled with a liquid. Chris questioned Mapiya about the liquid.
“Drink. It is part of the ceremony. It will not harm you.”
“What is it?”
“Herbs, roots
from certain plants. Drink,” Mapiya
insisted.
Chris drank
the liquid with one gulp. It burned as it went down his throat. It was fiery in his belly and he suddenly
felt light-headed. He turned to Mapiya
and saw that she was smiling. He took
it as a good sign.
Chief Aenohe
then started talking. Chris did not
know what was being said, but it he knew it must be a type of ceremonial
speech. Once Chief Aenohe’s speech was
finished, the people started singing and the drums started beating.
Chris felt
strange. His vision was swimming and it
was hard to concentrate. He grabbed
Mapiya’s hand and squeezed hard.
“Do not fear,
man. You are safe. The people are singing of your coming, of
your place among them. There is no need
to fear.”
Chris looked
at Mapiya and nodded. He did not
understand what was going on, but as long as she was here he felt that he was
safe.
Abruptly the
music and singing stopped. All eyes
turned to Chief Aenohe. He raised his
arms into the air and said something in Cheyenne. Chris tried to focus on his voice since he could not understand
what he was saying, but he was losing his ground quickly. His eyes felt tired, but he knew he had to
stay awake until it was over.
Mapiya saw
the confusion on his face and said, “My father is telling the people that you
are re-born. You are Cheyenne and you
will become part of his family. You
will replace the son he had lost to the white man years ago in the Black
Hills.” Chris stared at her, taking in
the words. Mapiya continued. “He says that you came when the sky was
black and the rain and thunder was starting.
He says this is when he and I saw you, one who should not have been
alive but was. He says your name will
be . . .” But Mapiya words were cut off as a shout in Cheyenne came across from
them from where Mapiya’s brother sat. ó'kôhóme was screaming something and
Chief Aenohe and Mapiya were yelling back at him. All of the people were shouting in the tipi. Mostly at ó'kôhóme. He in turn yelled back and them and then
stormed out of the tipi, glaring at Chris before he left.
“What was
that all about?”
“My brother
is a foolish man. Don’t not trouble
yourself. He will not do you any harm
as long as you are of the people.”
“Why does he
hate me so, Mapiya?” Chris asked, trying to keep from blacking out from
whatever they had given him.
“Because you
are still learning about how to be Cheyenne and do not understand that we do
not speak of the dead, I will tell you this time. My older brother was killed by white men. White men who were greedy for the yellow
stones of the Black Hills. My people killed these men and we were not sad as
they. . . died. My father and mother mourned for my older brother for a long
time. He was next in line to be Chief,
if he had proved himself. But he never
did. He died too young. My brother,
ó'kôhóme does not really remember him, but he honors him greatly. He does not want a white man to take the
place of his brother. He fears that my
brother’s memory will fade. But my
father and I know it will not.”
Chris could
see the sadness in Mapiya’s face and eyes.
She did know her older brother and remembered him. He hoped that there were family, out there
somewhere, that he had who would remember him as well.
It was then
that Chief Aenohe started speaking again.
“My father is
telling the people that your new name is Emo'ôhtavo vo'e,” translated
Mapiya. “In your tongue it means, “It
is Black Cloud, a meaning to my people is Black Storm.”
“Black Storm. Say it in your tongue again.”
“Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e,” she said softly, touching his cheek gently.
“Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e,” repeated Chris. “I like it.”
Immediately,
the people in the tipi started to repeat the name in a chant. Over and over again. Chief Aenohe then came over to Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e, knelt down next to him and took his right hand. He pressed Chris’ hand open and then took out a knife. Chris was about to react, but Mapiya told
him not to fear.
“This is the
final part of the ceremony,” she clarified as her father took the knife and
sliced his palm. Her father then sliced
his own palm and watched as the blood flowed freely. He then placed both his and Chris’ palms together, saying
something in Cheyenne. Then he released
his hand and stood up, to step back from them.
“My father
has now mixed your blood with his. You
are now part of the Cheyenne people and part of my family.” Mapiya smiled
widely at him. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e as he was now called, watch as the people came
and touched him, making him welcome among them. For the first time in weeks, he felt relaxed and happy. Yes, he could be happy here among these
people. He felt tired suddenly. His head slowly fell to rest upon Mapiya
shoulders just as the feast was about to begin. Someone was passing some type of stew around, but he did not stay
awake long enough to get some. He was
asleep quickly and Mapiya then gently lowered him to rest upon her lap. She gazed at the sleeping man. He needed rest and tomorrow was the first
day of the rest of his life.
Nathan had
heard a soft whisper of a sound. He
looked up from his bedroll to find Vin sitting straight up and cradling his
head in his hands. Nathan got up from
where he was and walked over to the suffering tracker.
“Bout time ya
woke up.”
“What
happened?”
“Josiah is
what happened.”
Vin looked at
Nathan in disbelief. But then it came
back to him and his face turned from one of disbelief to one of shock and then
to one of anger.
“He hit me!”
“I’m afraid
he did, Vin.”
“He hit
me! That sonabitch!”
“Now,
Vin. Ya cain’t blame it t’all on
Josiah. We all had a part in it,”
responded Nathan, holding up his hands, trying to calm him down.
But Vin would
have none of it. He was angered that
they had stopped him from fulfilling his promise to Chris to find him. He was also angry with himself for letting
his guard down and giving Josiah even a chance at stopping him from completing
his mission.
Nathan
watched Vin as he saw his anger and anguishes at not being able to finish his
quest. He knew that if Vin continued
the way he was that he would not last to finish what he started.
“Listen,
Vin. We were all worried about ya. We came to a decision that we ain’t gonna
let ya die.”
“I was not
going ta die, Nathan. I was tryin’ ta
find my friend!”
“Ya was not
gonna do it killin’ yaself, ya understand?”
The
conversation now awoke the others from their slumber and brought the one man on
guard duty back over to the camp. The
other three men stirred from their sleep to sit up in their bedrolls. Josiah walked over from his post to kneel
down next to Nathan and Vin.
“Listen,
Vin,” started Josiah. “I’m sorry for
what I did. But I did to save you. The Lord will forgive me my transgression
against ya because I did it out of caring for a friend.”
Josiah’s
speech did not quench Vin’s anger. He
still fumed at the thought of his so-called friends’ decision on how he should
run his own life.
“Listen, Mr.
Tanner. You might be wasting your life
for naught. We still do not know if Mr.
Larabee still exists on this earthly plane.”
“Ezra, if you
don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna shut it for ya,” growled Buck as he got from
his position on his bedroll and walked over to the others.
“Ezra don’t
mean anythin’ by it, Vin. He just ain’t
as opti…opti… What is that word you
used Ezra?” said J.D.
“Optimistic,
my dear young child.”
“Yeah,
optimistic as we are. And I ain’t no
young child! I’m a growed man!”
“Settle down
now, J.D.,” said Buck, wrapping up his bedroll and starting the fire going.
“We’ll find Chris. I know we will.”
Vin eyed Buck
as he made the statement. Buck saw
Vin’s look and winked, a big smile coming to his face. Vin smiled shyly back, letting his anger
slowly dissipate. He knew that Buck
understood what it meant to them both to get Chris back.
The others
watched the scene and then nodded their understanding. They also knew that things would not be same
until they found Chris Larabee. Dead or
alive, preferably alive, needed to put this to an end and either make their
group whole again or at least to know that they start to mourn their loss.
Vin hated
being helpless and that was what he was at this moment. Helpless to find his friend like he
promised. He was starting to feel the
way that Ezra was feeling, like it was hopeless. Like they would never find Chris, alive or dead. But then he saw a look in J.D.’s eyes. Those eyes spoke volumes. They said that he would give up looking for
his hero and he expected Vin to follow suit.
Vin bowed silently and knew he could not give up on Chris now. Chris would not give up on him and he was
determine to find him or bring his body back to Mary Travis. One way or the other, he was not going back
to Four Corners until it ended.
Nathan turned
to face the others and said, “J.D.! Go
get some water. Ezra, get off ya butt
and go and see if ya cin find some firewood.”
He then
turned back to face Vin and said smiling, “I’m gonna fix ya somethin’ for that
headache and jaw ache of yaurs.”
Vin grinned
sheepishly back at him.
“I ain’t
forgettin’ this Nathan, Josiah.” Vin
lifted his head up higher to look over Nathan’s shoulder and said, “And I ain’t
forgettin’ the rest of ya too!”
At this
comment, all the others, except Nathan, raised their eyes to the sky as if to
say they did not hear a word, and walked off to start the morning camp.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8
Next day, a few miles south of the Box Canyon
The six men had
been riding hard all day. They now were
still, sitting on their horses, as the young tracker knelt down on the ground
examining the trail they had been following for two days now.
“Well,
Vin? Ya got somethin’?” questioned
Buck.
“I think
so. Look’s like some horse prints,
especially one in specific that I knowed.”
“Chris’?
Pony?” asked J.D.
“Think
so. One of the horses left front hoof
print got a mark of a half moon crested in it’s shoe. Chris had Pony shod with a broken shoe, which had a crest of half
moon. He meant to get it fix before he
left, but I think he forgot. The only problem is that he is riding with a herd
and several unshod ponies. Seems ta be
about an hour ahead of us.”
“Unshod
ponies, Pard?”
“Yeah, Buck.
Unshod.”
“Yep.
Cheyenne. Probably Southern band. They
way their horses are loaded, I’d say renegades.”
“How are you
so confident, Mr. Tanner?”
“Cause they
ain’t stoppin’ ta rest. They riding
hard and light.”
“Do ya think
they got Chris?” asked Josiah.
“Don’t
rightly know. The main lead and two end
horses looked as if they were carryin’ only one man a piece. See how the hoof
prints are only a little deeper than the others? If’in they were carryin’ more than one man per pony, then it
woulda been heavier here. The ponies
they were herdin’ in the middle, looked too light ta be carryin’ anyone.”
“But they
mighta knowed where Chris is, don’t cha think?” asked Nathan.
“Might,
Nathan. I think we if ride hard, we cin
catch up to ‘im ‘fore they reach the box canyon area,” Vin said, mounting on
Peso quickly.
“Well,
boys. Let’s ride,” exclaimed Buck, as
he urged his mount into a run. Vin and
the others followed the tall lawman’s lead and headed north towards the Box Canyon
area.
The six
peacekeepers had caught up with the renegade Cheyenne within the hour, just as
Vin had predicted. Luckily for them,
the Cheyenne had decided to water and feed the horses they were herding. Vin and the others had been lying in wait on
the high hill above the valley before the canyon. Vin had shown them a short cut and they came out ahead of the
horse runners. They were now trying to
determine how to approach them. The
Cheyenne had two men on guard and Vin knew it would be almost impossible to
sneak up on them. He motioned for them
to move back down the hill, crawling low on their bellies, back the way they
had come.
Once down the
hillside, they discussed their plan.
Vin had told them that they could not sneak up on them, so the best way
was that he would go down and try to negotiate with them. They did not want their horses. They just wanted to know where Chris was and
to get his horse Pony back. There was
no way they wanted to start a war.
“That my dear
Mr. Tanner, is the most preposterous plan I ever heard.”
“Ezra, shut
up,” said Buck, now annoyed. “Vin is
the only one with as much know-how about these type of things and we best let
‘im do his job.”
“Mr.
Wilmington, you must think me superficially innate, but I am only thinking of
everyone’s well-being when it comes to these heathens.”
“What did he
say?” asked J.D.
“I think he
just said that we must think he’s selfish and that he thinks we’re asking for
trouble dealin’ with the Cheyenne,” responded Josiah.
“Well, ain’t cha?”
“Am I what,
Mr. Dunne.”
“Ain’t cha
selfish?”
“Mr. Dunne, I
take much insult to that statement.”
“Yeah, yeah,
yeah. But ain’t cha?”
“I will
ignore your ignorant remark, Mr. Dunne.”
“Now, would you too cut that out!” exclaimed Nathan softly. “List