If I’d wanted to say more I’d’ve had to say it to myself because Teacher had his rifle out and was ridin like hell in the direction of a bluff of trees he must’ve figured the shot come from. I would’ve liked to help but my biggest problem was that when I moved sudden or took a deep breath, the pain in my side got right bold. If I just lay there quiet, it wasn’t too bad. So, I lay there and watched Teacher get off a couple of shots at those trees. There was a bunch of dust along about that time and I figured whoever’d been shootin’ at us had lit out.

  The more I thought about it the more I didn’t approve of Teacher ridin’ right at ‘em like that. If whoever it was that was hidin’ there had been decent with a firearm or if there was a flock of renegade Indians there, he could’ve got himself killed right off. I didn’t figure it was likely that whoever was doin’ the shootin’, if they’d’ve killed off Teacher, would’ve stopped there, if you see what I’m meanin’. So, I was awful glad when I saw that first cloud of dust headin’ north in a real big hurry. I wasn’t near as happy about the fact that a second cloud of dust, which was Teacher, was chasin’ the first one and not showin’ any signs of lettin’ up. Pretty soon the dust disappeared altogether. I got to wonderin’ if now that my job appeared to be done, Teacher expected me to make my own way home, belly wound and all.

  He was gone about an hour, though it felt more like three. I was thinkin’ about maybe tryin’ to get over to my horse who was enjoyin’ the grass a little ways off. That’s when one of the dust clouds came back in sight. I was a little uneasy thinkin’ about the fact Teacher could be coyote-food out on the prairie somewhere and whoever killed him was comin’ for me.

  That wasn’t it though. When he was a mile or so off, I could see it was only one rider and it wasn’t long till I could make out Teacher’s sorrel horse.

  “Get ‘em?” I said as he came up and got off his horse.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “Got close enough to scare them a little, but I figured I better get back here. “

  “Sorry you had to come back.”

  “I should’ve come back quicker.” Teacher started checkin’ over my wound. “You’re bleeding quite a bit.”

  “It ain’t so bad,” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  He tore apart a shirt and stuffed some of it inside what was left of my shirt over where I was shot. Then he bandaged me up some.

  “Hillier and Cox, was it?” I asked.

  “That’s right.” He nodded. “I should’ve been paying closer attention. If I had’ve you wouldn’t’ve got shot.”

  “I wasn’t exactly alert myself at the time,” I said.

  “We’re a couple of hours ride from Cut Bank.” Teacher eased me up on my horse. “There’ll be a doctor there. That’s where we’ll go.”

  “They’ll get away from you,” I told him as he mounted up on the paint.

  “No, they won’t,” Teacher said. “You got me close enough. I can follow them from here.”

  “I’d like to go along with you,” I said. “I don’t feel like I’ve done much in the way of helpin’ so far.”

  “We’ll see what the doctor says about that.”

  The doctor didn’t say much at first. That’s because he was drunker than a billy goat once we found him, which took more time than the ride into town. Dennerty, he said his name was; the doctor was a young man and didn’t seem to worry about much. Especially he didn’t seem to worry about people in need of his services.

  Once he was able to look me over, he said the bullet went right through, hadn’t hit anythin’ real important, and there was no reason I couldn’t ride on once he sewed me up. I asked about the pain when I moved around and he said the bullet probably grazed a couple of my inside organs but that it didn’t matter a hell of a lot, that’s how he put it. I can’t say I had a lot of confidence in Doc Dennerty at first, and his handlin’ of the needle, what with the shakes he had, didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. I’m pretty sure there’s a few more puncture holes in my side than was absolutely necessary to get me patched, but I will admit that once he got done stitchin’, along with the fact that he was willin’ to share the whisky he carried around in a medicine bottle, I was pretty sure I could whip Hillier, Cox, Teacher and the entire James Gang if it come to that.

  Teacher decided we wouldn’t leave until the next morning, so I got to sleep under covers right there in Doc Dennerty’s office. That was all right, I guess, but the bed was nothin’ special. If I’d had my pick of preferences I’d’ve chose to be bedded down alongside them bushes with Ef. Although, truth is, she probably would’ve opened up my stitches and bled me to death what with the kind of carryin’ on she appeared to favour.

  When I woke up next mornin’, the pain in my head was more severe by considerable than the one in my side, so Teacher figured we could ride out again.

  “You aren’t obliged to come if you don’t care to,” he told me. “You could be back at the Burnside ranch with the ladies by nightfall if you’d rather. I won’t hold you to going with me.”

  Now until that moment I hadn’t thought about the fact Ef and Hazel were a choice. I thought about it then but decided against goin’ back. First of all, I felt I owed Teacher even if he said I didn’t. I didn’t feel right about leavin’ with the job not done. Then too, there was the fact I didn’t feel comfortable hobblin’ back to Ef’s ranch like a kicked dog after we’d set off like soldiers headin’ for a battle. I wasn’t sure Ef would take to a man who admitted he was licked before the fight even started.

  “I’d prefer to ride with you,” I said to Teacher.

  We mounted up and rode out of Cut Bank a couple of hours later. If I’d known what was to come, I would’ve chosen otherwise — limpin’ back to the ladies ranch or even settin’ around getting’ drunk with Doc Dennerty would’ve beat the hell out of what was to happen once we was clear of Cut Bank.

  Chapter Eleven

  We didn’t travel fast. I guess that was partly so’s not to do any more damage to the hole in my side, and partly because Teacher knew we’d be able to find Cox and Hillier no matter how far, or how fast, they travelled. We rode northwest out of Cutbank and hadn’t gone five miles when we come to a small ranch sittin’ on the flat prairie like a pimple on a chin. As we approached it, the first person I saw was a woman. She was behind a horse and the two of them was pullin’ a stump out of the ground. I looked at that woman for a while and then I turned to Teacher.

  “If this is another ladies’ ranch and if we get asked to sleep in the barn again, I’ll be ridin’ back to town,” I told him. “I figured I should tell you that right off so’s there’s no confusion.”

  I guess as much as I enjoyed that night with Ef, it scared me some, too. My experience with women before her was what you’d call limited and if they was all like Ef, I figured I’d better be a bit sparin’ in my partnerin’ up. Especially gutshot, as I was.

  Teacher, he just grinned. Right after that we saw a man out back of the house with an axe and I felt a lot less stormy in the guts. It didn’t turn out to matter much as we wasn’t stoppin’ anyway but to water the horses. We chatted with the man and his wife while the horses drank. The woman looked like she’d be havin a little one pretty soon and I figured gee hawin’ that horse around like she was must’ve been mighty hard.

  Then we touched our hats, wished them good luck and rode off. Teacher asked me if my side could take a little faster pace and I told him I’d prefer lopin’ to trottin’. For the next couple of hours, we covered a good piece of ground.

  As we travelled, I noticed a good-sized cloud formin’ in the sky up ahead of us. The bigger the cloud got, the blacker it got, and it soon became clear that it had a mind to storm.

  “I hear these Canadian storms can be pretty bad,” I said. I had to talk louder than usual because the wind was gettin’ up.

  “Could be,” Teacher said, “but I don’t know that we’re in Canada yet.”

  That was the last piece of conversation we was to have for a long time. We got our slickers on and tied our hats onto our heads. We no sooner had that done than the very worst storm I ever saw hit. There was plenty of rain, and some snow, and it was comin’ right into our faces. It was all I could do to keep my horse movin’ forward. He kept wantin’ to turn his back end into the storm and I would’ve let him except that I was pretty sure Teacher was probably pluggin’ on straight ahead. That was a bit of a guess on my part because about five minutes after the storm hit us full out, I lost Teacher. I tried callin’ a few times but that was a waste of breath. The words just got blowed back into my mouth.

  Then I tried zig-zaggin back and forth for a while thinkin’ I might stumble across him eventually. But I didn’t. It came down so hard that for a long time I couldn’t see my horse’s head. I reached down and shook his mane every once in a while just to make sure he was there. He could’ve drowned and slid right out from under me and I wouldn’t’ve known about it except my legs would’ve been stuck knee deep in mud. I might’ve figured it out then.

  That horse of mine, his name was Rascal, he’d seen plenty of storms too, but nothin’ like this one that I was pretty sure had come down from Canada. Except that I heard the ones from up there all had more snow in ‘em than this one did. Anyway, Rascal stayed under me and on his feet, which was about the only good thing about that whole day.

  We kept movin’, the two of us, the rest of the day and most of the night. I wasn’t sure where we were but unless the storm had shifted, I figured we was still makin’ our way north, although we weren’t all that quick about it. Now I should explain that in my whole life up to about three days previous, the most excitin’ thing that had happened to me was when I shot Joe Metzger’s dog ‘cause we thought he had the rabies. Turns out he didn’t but it was a mistake anybody could’ve made. Joe Metzger didn’t see it that way though and we ain’t been close ever since. Sure, I’ve tracked critters and men, some bad ones in both groups, but I never was the one to be involved in the dispute settlin’ once my trackin’ was done. Also, I ain’t been a drinkin’ man, nor one to go off with sportin’ women, and I ride safe horses and stay out of fights. Now, here it was, in the space of three days and nights, I’d done things I didn’t even know the name for with a woman I’d had the acquaintance of for maybe four hours, I’d got drunk on a doctor’s whisky, I’d got myself shot by somebody I’d never seen, and if all that weren’t enough, I was lost in a storm that might’ve been one of them Canadian ones. Even if it wasn’t, I didn’t know where I was, Montana or Canada, and me and my horse were so wet I figured both of us could drown from the inside out. I was beginnin’ to think a whole week with Teacher would be more excitement than a farm boy like me could stand.

  I didn’t know how long I’d been ridin’. The storm hadn’t let up any, maybe was worse, if anything, and I was awful hungry which was a bad thing since Teacher was carryin’ what food we had. Then Rascal up and stopped. Stopped cold. Wouldn’t take another step. I kicked him, smacked his back end and called him some of the names I’d picked up in conversation with Ef, but nothin’ worked. So, I got down out of the saddle, went around to the front of him to see if I could lead him and walked smack into a fair-sized tree sittin’ in the middle of some scrub brush. That horse figured out that if we hunkered down on the downwind side of that wide tree trunk, our situation would be improved. I surveyed things and had to agree with him. I got him turned and backed him up against that tree trunk. Then I got crouched down right between his front legs. We wasn’t exactly comfortable, understand, but it was a whole lot better than ridin’ along into a storm that was never goin to quit, not ever.

  Next thing that happened was I woke up. Now there’s some that may not believe this, but I ended up layin’ under my horse with his legs set around me like four posts, the ones you see on them fancy beds. If that horse had moved any one of his feet, he’d’ve had to end up standin’ on me. Mind, I probably would’ve just made a squishin’ noise if he had stepped on me. But he didn’t, that’s the thing. Stood statue still for I have no idea how long in that storm and wind, and you know how crazy horses can get in wind, until I woke up.

  The strangest thing of all was there was another tree a little ways off about the same size as the one Rascal and me was under. And under that tree was the biggest old coyote you ever saw. He was mindin’ his own business and just tryin’ to stay dry. He didn’t seem to care one damn about Rascal and me. It was like him and Rascal made a deal between ‘em and I didn’t matter. Eventually, the coyote trotted off without so much as a look back.

  The storm had pretty well quit but it was still cloudy, and the wind was still blowin’ out of the north. It was too cold to dry out and I had this feelin’, one I’d never had before in my life. I would’ve given up my share of the ranch for a hot bath and a warm, dry bed. That wasn’t likely to happen out there on the prairie, so I figured my best bet was to keep goin’ north till I got to the Milk River. My guess was that Teacher would do the same thing and maybe we’d meet up.

  I got Rascal movin’ — he wasn’t crazy about the idea — and we got to the river a few hours later. I knew that if I didn’t find Teacher soon, I’d have to shoot somethin’ to eat. The sun had come out and it was considerable warmer, so I decided to let Rascal graze a spell while I dried out. Even with my slicker over top of me, every single piece of clothing I had on was wetter ‘n a fish’s belly so I decided to peel everythin’ off and set it on rocks to unwet itself. Then I laid out on the grass next to the clothes to do the same. I managed to get a little sleep. When I woke up, Teacher was sittin’ on his horse lookin’ at me, not mad like, but not real happy either. I don’t know how long he’d been sittin’ there.

  “See you haven’t drowned or bled to death yet,” he said.

  “I was plannin’ to go lookin’ for you right after I rested up.” I sat up kind of quick. I was feelin’ a little uncomfortable with my clothes spread all over the place and none of ‘em on me.

  “Guess you won’t have to now,” Teacher said.

  “One good thing about that there storm,” I said. “I expect Hillier and Cox was caught up in it same as us. They’ll be easy to follow in the mud.”

  “We’ll probably find them naked and sleeping somewhere down river.” He smiled at me then and that’s how I knew he wasn’t mad or anythin’.

  All the same, I had a feelin’ that last remark was meant to get me movin’ so I stood up and started gatherin’ up things to wear. Some of ‘em at least was getting’ close to bein’ dry. I pulled my trousers on first since I was still kind of embarrassed about bein’ found buck naked on the prairie. While I was getting’ gathered up, Teacher handed me a piece of jerky and a hunk of cheese and I ate that down kinda quick as I was buttonin’ my shirt.

  “Getting shot doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite,” he said.

  “It’s been a spell between meals,” I said.

  “True,” he nodded at my side, “how’s the wound?”

  “Tell the truth, I ain’t looked at it for a while,” I told him, “but it feels pretty good.”

  “Tonight, we’ll change that bandage and I’ll mix up a little something to put on there,” he said.

  I was ready to go, so I mounted up and asked him what the plan was. “Sure hope we ain’t thinkin’ about crossin’ that river,” I said as we got a little closer to it.

  Ef had told us it was high and that was before the storm which I figured must’ve raised it up a bunch. There’d be no way to cross but to swim the horses over and Rascal, he’s a capable enough swimmer but not fond of it. Whenever we’d approached water in the past, he had generally spilled me off on the ground three or four times before I was able to convince him to go to swimmin’. I figured this time would be no different.

  “We might not have to,” Teacher said. “The storm might have kept them on this side of the river. We’ll ride west for a while, see if we can pick up their trail.”

  We rode back from the river a half mile or better. Teacher figured all the brush growin’ along the river banks would make good cover if Cox and Hillier decided to ambush us again. I figured even an ambush was preferable to havin’ to swim Rascal across the Milk.

  We rode fifteen or twenty miles and didn’t see any sign of the men we were chasin’. I concluded that maybe Hillier and Cox got this far before the storm hit and maybe even crossed the river. Teacher must’ve been thinkin’ along the same lines ‘cause we rode another few miles or so and then stopped.

  “We’re crossing,” he said.

  I nodded but I didn’t say anythin’ since I didn’t want him to know I was a little anxious about river crossin’s and that Rascal was a lot more anxious about ‘em than me. We rode back to the bank of the river and it didn’t look too bad, although as soon as we came nose to nose with the water itself, Rascal started prancin’ which I well knew was just the preliminaries to what would happen if I pressed the matter. We’d been hearin’ a growin’ roar for some time as we’d been ridin’. I figured it was probably rapids and a bit of white water but that wasn’t it at all. As we looked downstream, we could see that the river took a bit of a bend and right there was a falls. It wasn’t a big falls, I couldn’t tell if maybe it was just somethin’ caused by the high water or what, but it was a falls all right. The thing is, right above the falls the riverbed widened out some and got shallow enough that we’d be able to walk across.

  Teacher pointed — it was getting’ pretty loud for regular talkin’ what with the roar from them falls, and we rode down a piece. The horses didn’t like the noise much and acted like they was spooked, but we got there and got ‘em into the river. The riverbed was, I don’t know, a couple of decent rock throws across and we was about halfway over when all hell broke loose.

  We was bein’ shot at again. The worst of it was there wasn’t a whole lot in the middle of that river for cover. The shots were comin’ from the north side so we couldn’t go that way and it looked awful unlikely that we’d get back to the south side without gettin’ killed first. I guess that’s why Teacher did what he did. I never did ask him about it, but I’ve thought a lot about it since.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17