The Man From Eagle Creek
Chapter Twenty One
Tom slept good the first part of the night, then awoke from a
dream about Sally Mae. He just couldn't help but feel to blame
for her death. He couldn't help but feel that no one on earth was
going to ever avenge her death if he didn't.
Cal had gone to bed in his small quarters near the front of the
stable after they had talked out everything they could think of.
He really liked the Injun from The Dakotas. This wasn't no dumb
ass injun for sure.
Tom was doing what Cal had dreamed of doing, riding off and
taking a look at the other parts of the west.
Tom was up before daylight, he felt tired after turning and
rolling in his bedroll all night. He was sittin' on a block of
wood just inside the front door when Cal came out of his room
into the stable.
"Tom, I had a helluva time sleeping last night, I kept wakin' up
and thinkin' about you ridin' out and seeing parts of the country
I always wanted to see. I dreamed I was riding with you and we
were over in Dodge."
"Cal, you got a good deal going here with your dad and you can
make a fair livin' sittin' here in this doorway waiting for a man
to ride up on a horse. If you ever went off ridin' like me, all
you worked for would be gone."
"I could set right here and be an old man too. Maybe let my boy
run the stable one day, spendin' the rest of my life dreamin' of
all the places I never saw."
"Yep I reckon I see what you're saying, if you don't go look now
you never will, that was what hit me too. I grew up with not even
a house closer than a hundred miles of ours. I knew if I didn't
go now, I would die on my `reservation' like the Sioux are
sentenced to do now. I just had to saddle up and go. Just don't
you go letting something I said make you jump up and ride off
looking for the place the where the sun sets, you hear me?"
"Tom you ain't said nothing that ain't already been in my mind. I
been sittin' here every day watching the sun go down through that
back door, wondering what it was like to see the sun go down on
the Texas Panhandle, or maybe Tucson, Arizona. I had the itch to
get up and ride a long time before you and me got to talking. I
just never took myself serious before. I didn't go to sleep solid
until I made up my mind to talk to my dad today. Tom, I'd like to
ride a ways with you if you wouldn't mind having a man like me
along, for a while that is."
"You go have a sit down talk with your dad, if you and him can
work out all the good parts and all the bad parts, then I reckon
I could stand some company for a spell anyway."
"Thanks Tom, I know I don't know enough about the rough side of
life to make it long out there alone. I really do thank you for
letting me tag along."
"Well you ain't had that sit down talk with your dad yet. You
don't know what its like being part Indian either. Lots of folks
don't take to my people right off. It's rough sometimes to take
all that's thrown at me, I walk away more'n I fight."
"I think you're one of the best men I've ever set down and
talked with, you look at things a lot different than most folks.
You don't have a mind full of hate and anger either."
"Right now Cal, I got a burning in my belly to find a coward,
maybe two that killed a special friend of mine, I wouldn't want
that to become your fight."
"If it does, then so be it."
"You go find your dad right now while you got the itch. Sit down
with him, man to man and if he says yes, then pack you a light
bedroll with a few changes of clothes, some grub and a handgun.
You gonna need a good horse too, mine likes to run."
"I'll see you in a while," Cal said as he smiled and headed out
the door.
Tom found a curry comb and a stiff brush and went to work on his
horse. By the time Cal came walkin' in the door with a grin a
foot wide, Tom had his horse lookin' like the show mares they'd
bred.
Cal had a bedroll under his arm, a grub sack and an old black
powder cavalry pistol in his hand.
"I take it you talked him into letting you go ridin?"
"You know what he told me? He said I needed to get out and see
the world now and not wait until I was his age to start wishing I
had."
"Well, looks like you need a good horse and a replacement at the
door," Tom said as he shook Cal's hand.
"I got both of them already, Dad told me to take his horse. He
said he was too old for a horse like that anyway. We got a man
that helps out some, and he'll be here in an hour."
"Well I reckon we'll be leavin' soon then Cal. Let me see that
pistol you got there."
"Dad gave it to me, it's the only gun he ever owned."
"Put this in your room over there," Tom said as he went to his
saddlebags and pulled out the new Colt wrapped in oil cloth.
"Here stick this in your belt until we can get you a proper
holster."
"Tom this looks new, has it ever been fired?"
"Nope, that Colt was given to me special, and I'm giving it to
you. Make it a part of your life."
"You better believe I will, but I never even shot a Colt or any
other gun Tom."
"I'll show you the same way Mr. Bill Cody showed me then."
"Buffalo Bill Cody taught you to shoot?"
"He taught me to handle a gun, I had to learn to hit what I was
shootin' at from what he told me, and you can do the same."
"I'm ready to learn all about gun handlin' Tom."
"There's a lot more to it than pointing and shooting, but you'll
pick it up, I did.
"Where's that horse of yours, that your dad gave you?"
Cal went to the side of the barn and led a big black gelding
into the stable. He was solid black with a white star on his
face. He was dancing and throwin' his head up and down as Cal
slipped the halter off and put a bridle on him.
Cal got his horse saddled and tied his bedroll and slicker on
behind his saddle. Tom saddled his horse and within the hour the
two new friends were riding out past the stock yards on the trail
that led west from Wichita. Cal's horse was still itchin' so Tom
decided the best way to settle him down was to run a bit. He
nudged his horse and they set off in a good lope. Cal was
smiling, finally getting out of the rut he was in.
This was something he'd dreamed of for a few years. He was so
happy right now, tears welled up in his eyes as the wind blew
against his face, for the first time ever from ridin a horse.
They overtook and passed three freight wagons headed for Dodge
and met a few riders headed back toward Wichita, but that was
about all the traffic they saw.
The first night on the trail to Dodge, Tom decided to stop a
little early and find a good place to camp. They rode north about
a mile from the trail and settled down near a small creek. The
land was flat and except for a few scattered trees, they could
see forever. Cal gathered up what sticks and tree limbs he could
find while Tom rode out about a quarter mile to circle their
campsite.
Tom saw Jackrabbits every way he looked. On his way back in to
camp, he shot one. He skinned and gutted it then rode on back
into camp. Tom took his knife and chopped a few green limbs from
the bushes along the creek. He stuck them in the ground next to
the fire. Running a stick through the jackrabbit, he strung it
across the fire to cook.
"Get your Colt out Cal, you need to get the feel of it in your
hand."
Cal picked up his his gun and Tom showed him the workin' parts
and what all happened when he pulled the trigger.
Tom schooled Cal the same as Mr. Bill Cody had taught him back
in South Dakota that morning.
"Hold the gun at your side Cal, then pull it up to shoot. Don't
try to aim down the barrel, just shoot from your hip and shoot
where you look. Pull it a up a few times and you'll get used to
the feel of it."
Tom pulled his Colt and fired at a stick across the small creek
about twenty feet away. The stick jumped in the air and split in
two pieces. Tom did this a few more times while Cal watched.
"We'll get you a holster when we get to the next town, but until
then just get used to the feel of the gun in your hand."
"Load it now and fire at that big stick there on the ground."
Cal loaded the Colt just as Tom showed him then raised the gun
and fired. He hit a few feet away as the gun bucked in his hand.
"Cal, I did the same thing when I shot the first time, just ease
the gun up to fire and squeeze the trigger. Let your gun feel
like a part of your hand and keep your eyes on that stick as you
shoot.
This time Cal hit within a foot of the stick. Tom told him to do
it over and over. Cal hit the stick three times out of twelve
rounds.
"That's good for now Cal, you'll get a better feel when you get a
holster and pull your gun up to shoot."
"You make it look so easy Tom when you draw and shoot."
"Remember to let your gun set easy in your hand with a solid
grip, you'll get the hang of it soon."
The Jackrabbit was tough and stringy, but they made a meal on
it. When the cooking was done, they let the fire burn down and go
out. It was still cool on the prairie at night, but inside the
bedroll a man could stay warm.
Tom woke up a few times during the night, listened until he
heard his horse nearby, then dozed off again.
At first light Tom was up and nudged Cal with his toe, Cal
jumped up and looked around like he was lost. He looked at Tom
and smiled as his mind finally settled down and he looked around.
They were saddled and riding, a few minutes after waking.
"I figure we'll get over to the town of Pratt about an hour
before sundown," Tom said.
"We can stop there for the night, maybe find you a gun holster
and get something better than Jackrabbit to eat."
"Sounds good to me Tom, I already feel like I just shook off some
chains that were holding me down. Don't get me wrong, I love my
mom and dad, but I knew I'd never feel right about myself if I
didn't go see the world."
Tom and Cal hit the main trail and rode at an easy lope for a
long way. Cal's horse was settled down some now after riding the
open trail and getting the barn jitters worked out of his system.
Tom looked at the sun and figured another three hours of
sunlight as he saw the buildings in the distance. This must be
Pratt, he thought as they came nearer. There were only a dozen or
so buildings, lined along the main trail through town.
They saw a general store and a hotel with a saloon sign over the
door too. There was a small livery stable and a few houses. Three
windmills were lazily spinning in the late evening sunlight.
They stopped at the General store and went in to see about
getting Cal a holster for his Colt. There were only two customers
there and the owner was waiting on them as Tom and Cal looked
around. Tom saw some leather holsters and pointed them out to
Cal.
When the other customers had left, the owner came over and
showed them the holsters. They were nothing fancy but Tom saw one
that looked well made and fit the Colt good. They bought it and
two more boxes of .44 cartridges from the man.
"You fellers planning on staying here for the night?"
"Well we kinda figured on it if we can find some warm food and a
place for our horses." Tom said.
The man looked at Tom kinda funny.
"You sure talk good English for an Injun, what's your name"
"I'm Tom Cooper and I'm part Sioux. I was raised by my white
father and mother. She taught me to read and write."
"We don't see many Injun's around here anymore, since they moved
them all to the reservations. Where ya from?"
"I was raised in the south part of the Dakotas."
The man looked at Cal and asked, "You from up that way too, you
don't look Injun to me."
"No Sir, I'm from Wichita. I met Tom a couple of days ago and he
let me tag along with him."
"Where you two headed if you don't mind me askin?"
"From here we're headed over to Dodge, then maybe down into
Indian Territory and out to the Panhandle."
"That sounds like an adventure to me. If you fella's wanna get a
good meal my brother owns the hotel over there, just ask for Mr.
Aaron Miles and tell him I sent you over. I may close up here and
come join you if you don't mind. I'm Richard Miles, by the way."
"Sounds good to me, we'll see you over at the hotel then. We're
gonna get our horses settled in at the livery and head that way,"
Tom told him and they both shook his hand.
The hotel entrance was the front of the saloon, from there a
door on the left opened to the front desk and dining room.
Tom and Cal walked in and looked around, there was a card game
going on with four players, there were three men standing at the
bar drinking and talking. There were two more tables with two men
at each one having a drink. All of them looked up as the tall
Injun and the tall skinny kid walked in.
"No Injuns allowed in here," The bartender said loudly as he
pointed to the front door.
Cal saw the door to the dining room and they walked that way,
not replying to the bartender.
As they walked past the front desk, the man stepped out from
behind it.
"I'm sorry but we don't serve Indians here."
"We're meeting someone here, he told us to ask for Mr. Aaron
Miles," Cal told him.
"I'm Aaron Miles and who would have given you my name?"
"The man at the General store, he told us he was your brother and
he's gonna meet us here," Cal told him.
"He knows we never cater to Indians and Blacks," The man said
coldly.
"We'll leave," said Tom as he turned to go out the door.
Richard Miles walked into the dining room as Tom walked to the
door.
"Aaron these two men are my guests. I invited them here, you
would do good to get to know Tom here and his friend Cal."
"I don't know what all this is about Richard, but we're causing a
commotion, lets get to the back and sit down."
There were only a few men and women seated in the dining room,
all eyes were on the two brothers and especially the Injun as
they walked to the back of the room.
"Aaron I want my friends to have a big slab of roast beef with
gravy poured over it, and bring me a plate of it too."
"Richard, I know you have something up your sleeve, but as long
as there's no more commotion I'll serve you and your friends."
"Aaron you need to come dine with us as well, we both need to
talk with Tom and Cal."
When the cook brought out the food, he had four plates. Aaron
Miles sat with his brother and the two strangers.
"Aaron, Tom and Cal here are headed over to Dodge tomorrow, but I
had in mind to hire them to work for us a week or so."
Tom looked at Cal, then at the two brothers, "Sir we aren't
really looking for a job, we were only passing through."
"Tom, hear us out and if you're not interested then we'll drop
the whole thing."
Tom and Cal looked at each other and nodded.
"You see, we've been trying to get enough lumber and materials
over here to build a new hotel and a few more buildings.
"We know the railroad will be coming through here soon and that
means more people. We want to take advantage of this. Aaron and I
want to build the new hotel and convert this one into a big
saloon hall before someone else comes along and opens one."
"I don't see why you would need us, just hire you a couple of
freighters and let them haul the lumber," Tom said.
"We've tried that, every time a wagon leaves Wichita it gets
stopped and we lose all the materials."
"Who stops your wagons and why?" Tom asked.
"We're not sure who takes the lumber, but we figure it's someone
that knows when the wagon leaves and waits on the trail for it.
Building materials are at a premium out here on the plains."
"We're not freighters, but if you hired the wagons and drivers
you needed, we just might hire on to get them here."
"That's exactly what I had in mind when I talked to you over in
the store."
"Cal what do you think about all this, I don't want to hire you
out if you ain't willin.'"
"I reckon I'm in if you are Tom, I was gonna have to find some
work along the way somewhere."
"I reckon we got a deal then Mr. Miles," Tom stood and all four
men shook on the deal.
"I have the original order list over at my store, I'll get it
now," Richard Miles said as he hurried out the door.
"We'll leave before daylight then. Cal is from Wichita, I'm sure
he'll know where the lumber yard is."
The store owner was back in a matter of minutes and handed Tom
a three page list of materials and a bag of money.
"Tom, there's three thousand dollars here, that will be more
than enough to hire wagons, drivers and pay for the lumber and
materials. We'll pay you a hundred each when you get here with
the lumber."
Tom took the bag of money and the list. He and Cal thanked the
two brothers for the meal and walked over to the livery for the
night.
"Tom are you sure you want me in on this, you know I'm not good
with a gun."
"You'll do good, we'll stop a couple of times on the way to
Wichita and you can try your gun handling skills, then when we
get over to Wichita, we will get you a double barreled scatter
gun."
"Sounds good to me Tom," Cal smiled. He was thinking of the
money they were gonna make, more money than he'd ever seen in his
life.
True to their word, Tom and Cal were in the saddle before the
first light of dawn. They were covering ground at a good clip in
the early predawn hours. By mid morning they had gone a good
twenty miles east of Pratt. They stopped at a small creek to give
the horses a breather and let Cal try out his new holster.
"Just remember, pull your gun and hit what you shoot at, you'll
get faster the more you practice," Tom said.
Cal pulled the Colt and fired at targets as Tom called them out
to him.
He pointed to a leaf floating in the water, or one hanging on a
dry twig. He pointed to a stick in the sand on the other side of
the creek. If Cal didn't hit the target, he'd get close enough to
make it bleed, if it was man or animal.
They were soon on the way again, still in an easy ground eating
lope. They knew they wouldn't make it in a day, so they camped a
ways from the trail and would get in to Wichita early the next
day. Cal drew his Colt and shot another twenty rounds. He was
feeling more comfortable with it now and had his hits close to
three to one over his misses.
Early the next morning they rode into Wichita. Cal knew most of
the freight owners and drivers from all his days at the livery.
He soon had six of the heavy wagons and drivers on the way to the
lumber yard.
By mid afternoon they had all six wagons loaded. Tom decided
that it would be easier to watch them, if they were away from
Wichita on the open plains. He told Cal where to meet him and the
wagons pulled out. Tom told Cal he would see him after dark and
rode on out of town.
Tom had kept out of the way and out of the dealings with the
freighters. He stood across the street while the wagons were
backed in and loaded one by one. No one but Cal knew Tom had any
part in the deal.
About five miles out of Wichita, Cal pulled the six wagons over
to the side of the trail one behind the other. They made their
camp and soon the drivers had a fire going and coffee boiling.
Tom was about two hundred yards away in a clump of bushes until
dark, then he went in to talk with Cal. Cal was standing out by
the horses when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He nearly
broke and ran as Tom stepped in front of him.
"Damn Tom, scare the hell out of me."
In the near pitch black dark of the night, Cal and Tom talked
for a few minutes, before Cal looked over and realized he was
talkin to himself. Tom was gone. Making sure his horse stayed
back a ways, Tom worked his way closer to the camp and hunkered
down on his haunches to take a nap. He had his Henry across his
legs.
Just as they had figured there was no problems the first evening
and night. Tom was in the saddle before daylight and scouting the
trail on the north and south sides for any sign of trouble. He
was sitting under some small bushes about a hundred and fifty
yards south of the trail when the wagons pulled out the next
morning.
Cal had tied his horse behind the first wagon and climbed up
under the tarp in the last wagon. They thought if someone tried
anything they would have men come from behind the wagons as well
as the front.
The heavy wagons made good time the first full day on the trail
and just before dark, Cal pulled them over in a line off the
trail. He and Tom both had a gut feeling if there was gonna be
trouble, it would come tonight or early the next morning.
Again Tom hunkered down a ways out from the camp. During the
night he made a complete circle around the camp, still no sign of
trouble. The next morning they were only about five miles from
camp when Tom spotted a lone rider coming in from the west
meeting the wagons. He slid from the saddle and moved to where he
would have a good view as he crouched down and watched.
The rider gave a short wave to the lead freighter and rode on
past. Tom watched as he rode past the last wagon, then glanced
back to the front again. When he looked back the rider was gone.
This was it, the rider was checking out the wagons and how good
they were guarded. Tom lay his pouch of .44 cartridges on the
ground in front of him with the drawstring opened wide. Three
riders came out on the trail in front of the lead wagon, there
were two riders coming up from behind the last wagon, riding
slow. Tom knew Cal had the two from behind spotted, so he watched
as the three riders in front came abreast of the lead wagon and
stopped.
He watched as one of the riders pulled his gun, then he raised
the Henry. The man's right shoulder was ripped open as the slug
him. His body jerked back and was knocked from his horse with the
blow of the bullet. The freight driver slipped to the ground on
the opposite side as the other two riders looked all around. The
rifle shot didn't ring out until the rider had fallen. They knew
someone was shooting from far out.
One of the two that were left started to climb over on the wagon
seat. Just as he reached out to get a hold, the .44 slug ripped
into his right hip. The riders coming up from behind were now
riding hard up to the wagons. As they came to the rear of the
last wagon, Cal fired his shotgun. The first rider was blown from
the saddle with the blast. The other rider whirled to fire and
Cal opened his chest with the second barrel.
Tom had seen Cal take out the two riders at the rear, then
looked back to the one remaining rider at the front. He had
turned his horse and was riding west, away from the wagons. Tom
stood and fired. Just as the rider felt that he had gotten away,
he looked back. The .44 slug hit his neck and ripped out a hole
the size of a mans fist.
Out of the five that had tried to ambush the wagons, only one
was alive and he was bleeding bad from the gaping hole in his
right hip. Tom was riding up to the wagons as Cal was dropping
two more shells into his scatter gun. They pulled the wounded
rider into the back of the lead wagon. Tom took one of the tarps
and lay out over the rear wagon and the men heaved the dead
riders up on the tarp and covered them. When they came to the
rider that had tried to ride off, they threw his body up with the
others on the tarp.
The wagons continued on as Tom rode back and gathered all five
horses and tied them behind the wagons. Just before noon the next
day a man ran from the street into the General store and hollered
at Mr. Miles to come outside. Richard Miles stood on the steps of
his General store as the six wagons rolled into the middle of the
small town. He smiled as his brother came up to him.
"Looks like we have enough lumber and materials to get started on
our new hotel."
Before dark that day all the lumber and materials were neatly
stacked and covered next to the new building site. Tom turned to
the six freight drivers and talked in a voice that all could
hear.
"When you men get back to Wichita, you put the word out that if
there's ever another freight wagon ambush along this trail, I'll
come back in the middle of the night and skin those alive that
did it."
Tom and Cal left the next morning for Dodge City, they had split
three hundred dollars between them. They had given the six
freight drivers an extra fifty dollars for their help out of what
they had left over from buying the lumber.
The Miles brothers tried to get Tom and Cal to stay and escort
the next wagons from Wichita to Pratt, but Tom told them there
wouldn't be any more problems now. The same six freighters made
three more trips each with lumber, materials and even furnishings
before the hotel was completed. There never was any more trouble
with ambushes along the way.