The Last Ride of Caleb O'Toole (18 page)

In the distance, fifty Sioux warriors from a different tribe were fanned out on horseback in a line along the forest edge. Caleb went over to Pride and stroked the stallion's mane. The air crackled with danger. Even from this distance, he could see the painted faces of the warriors among the trees. They looked ready for battle. Touch the Clouds and some of his men rode out to meet them. After a few moments, the Indians advanced on the camp with Touch the Clouds. As they got closer, the hair stood up on Caleb's head as he recognized the man who rode next to Touch the Clouds.
Dear
Lord
, Caleb thought as he took a deep breath. It was Sitting Bull himself! He recognized the Chief from newspaper photos. Tales of the Battle of Little Big Horn and the massacre of Colonel George Armstrong Custer and the 7th Cavalry reached far and wide. Touch the Clouds pointed to Caleb as he spoke with the famous war Chief. Caleb shivered as the barrel-chested Sitting Bull stared coldly at him.

The two men rode up to Caleb.

“Our brother Sitting Bull has come for Climbing Rat. They are heading to Canada. I have told him of you. He says he will put his sign on your wagon. You will go in peace,” explained Touch the Clouds.

Caleb swallowed hard as one of Sitting Bull's warriors rode over and painted a red outline of a buffalo on their little wagon. Just then, Julie and Tilly emerged from the tepee.

“What is it, Caleb?” asked Julie as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“It's Sitting Bull. He's come for Patch.”

“Oh Heavens!” Julie sucked in her breath and pulled Tilly tight to her.

“Do not worry, you are safe. He says we must leave now,” said Touch the Clouds. “There was a battle in a place called Big Hole. Many of the Nez Perce were killed. Many women and their children.”

“What happened?” Caleb began to saddle up Pride. The Sioux had taken down all their tepees. They would be moving in minutes.

“It is heard that this man, Colonel Gibbons, planned the attack. Joseph is the leader of the Nez Perce, a good man who wants peace. He only wants to hunt and keep his land. The leaders in Washington want me to help drive Joseph's people out of their land. This I will not do. We will leave for our winter home.” Touch the Clouds gazed sadly across the intense beauty of Yellowstone. “The Nez Perce are moving through here, maybe to Canada. The white soldiers are trying to find them. There will be more killing. It is not safe for Indian or white. Go west to where the water shoots to the sky, and in a few days you will come to a river. Ride north, and you will find the road to Virginia City. It is best we leave now.”

***

Caleb stood next to Julie and Tilly as Touch the Clouds's people rode past them and headed east. The O'Tooles' little wagon had been filled with food and animal skins as a final gesture. Patch rode up quickly and held up his hand in farewell. Caleb walked to his horse and held out his hand, offering it to Patch to shake.

“
Toksha
.” Caleb pronounced the Sioux word for farewell as he shook the Indian's hand.

“
Toksha!
” said Patch. “
Le
mita
cola
.” Caleb learned this phrase meant “friend.”

“
Le
mita
cola
,” said Caleb, waving as Patch turned his horse and rode away. Sitting Bull and his warriors then surrounded Patch, and together they galloped north. In a moment, they were swallowed up by the forest.

Caleb and his sisters rode through the Yellowstone forest on a narrow beaten trail, awestruck by the wild, untamed land. It was hard going. After three days, they passed a vast lake and pools of lily pads. Eagles sailed overhead. Moose and elk grazed in the fields of purple fireweed. As they approached a clearing, the smell of sulfur became overpowering. Then, from a mound of yellowish mud, came a loud, gurgling, hissing sound. A great roar followed, and they rode quickly away from the large circle of mud to a safe distance. Suddenly, boiling water spilled from a hole in the ground. They stood and watched in disbelief as the roaring geyser spewed its smelly stream from the bowels of the earth ever higher and higher. It seemed impossible that so much water could shoot so far into the blue sky.

“It smells like rotten eggs!” exclaimed Tilly as she held her nose and made a face.

“It's sulphur gas from the geyser, Tilly,” explained Julie. “It's like the hot springs in Kansas.”

“Well, it stinks!” giggled Tilly.

Finally, the great geyser died down to a few gasps of steam. They continued their journey, marveling at the beauty of the new federal park. There seemed to be no end to the game. Deer and buffalo shared fields with coyotes. A great, golden grizzly bear, her cubs near her side, eyed them warily only fifty feet away by a river. For a second, the bear rose to its full height, nearly eight feet, perhaps to warn Caleb and his sisters of her power. Satisfied she was safe, the bear continued to teach her cubs how to fish. And there were plenty of fish to be had. They flipped and flopped in the rivers. Caleb had the feeling that he could just dip his hands in the cool stream and pull out a trout.

***

Two days later, Caleb took a bead on the horizon as they moved on through the scenic wonderland. It was getting close to dark and they decided to make camp near a rock-lined river that led into a grove of pines just a short way from a small geyser. Carefully, they tucked the wagon out of sight into the cover of the trees. Tilly ran to the river and began to splash around.

“It's hot!” she cried delightedly. “Feel it!” Tumble took the opportunity to do a little barking. Two elk grazing in the distance lifted their heads, curious as to what the commotion was all about.

“Ohhhh. This is nice!” said Julie, dipping her hand in the water. “Tilly, guess what?”

“What?” answered Tilly as she splashed in the geyser-heated water.

“It's bath time! Caleb, you go down the river. Tilly and I are going to take a bath,” she said modestly.

Caleb picked up their map and his Henry and hiked farther downstream. After a few minutes, he stopped and took a short look around, eyeing the clear water of the river. He also could use a soak. Gingerly, he stripped off his clothes and sat down in the luxurious, healing waters. He picked up the map and studied it. Virginia City would be a week's ride, if he figured it right. There they would go to the bank for the money that had been wired. Their Aunt Sarah was some distance farther west. They had come close to a thousand miles. The September nights were getting chilly.
Just
a
few
hundred
miles
farther
, thought Caleb as he leaned back into the stream. The water drifted over his aching body. It felt good. He shut his eyes and drifted into a relaxing sleep.

***

The blast of a gunshot jolted Caleb into action. He scrambled into his clothes and grabbed his rifle and the map. There was no second shot, so he hoped that whatever happened, Julie had it under control. Caleb raced back up the river, leaping over rocks and fallen trees. Tumble barked in the distance. As he closed in on the camp, he could see a mule, loaded with animal furs and traps, grazing nearby. The jagged-toothed, steel traps clanked together as the mule shifted away from Caleb. He chambered a round in the big Henry and quietly approached through the trees. Just ahead was a scene that almost made him laugh. A trapper lay on the ground with his hands covering his head. Julie, holding her Colt and dripping wet in her Indian clothes, had a bead drawn on the scraggly man. Tilly stood next to her sister, bravely holding a stick and pointing it at the trapper as Tumble held the man's trousers in his teeth.

“Lucky I didn't shoot you dead,” said Julie to the trapper.

“Everything all right?” Caleb relaxed his grip on the Henry.

“Keep a gun on him while I dry off. He was sneaking around, spying on us.”

“Well, I don't mean no harm,” said the trapper. “I saw your camp and thought I'd just wander over. Pretty hungry.”

“Just stay right there.” Caleb held the rifle on the man.

“Easy now, friend.” The trapper got to his knees. “I ain't armed or nothin'.”

“He was snooping around, Caleb.” Julie said as she squeezed the river water from her hair. “I saw him over by Pride, looking at the rifle.”

“You out here alone with no gun?” asked Caleb.

“Funny thing about that. I had a run-in with a grizzly last week. Dern thing was as big as a house. Knocked me clean into the river. Lost my rifle. I see you got a Sharps there. Say, don't suppose you'd trade for it.”

“My guess is he was going to take it,” said Julie.

“No, no. Just lookin',” said the trapper. “Any other folks riding with you?”

“No. It's just us,” said Caleb

“I see that saddle on the black and the N.V.; that be Nebraska Volunteers?”

“That's right.” Caleb went over to Pride and checked the Sharps. Something about the man bothered him. The trapper followed Caleb over to Pride and ran his fingers over the N.V. “Belongs to the man who fought for them during the war.”

“Well, friend, I was First Nebraska! Joshua Bodine is the name!”

***

Caleb sat warming himself in front of the campfire, gnawing hungrily on a piece of buffalo jerky. Julie and Tilly tended to the camp, preparing the furs for a night's sleep. It was getting colder, and their breath fogged in the firelight. Joshua Bodine talked through the evening about his war adventures, fur trapping, and his life as a mountain man. Caleb checked his fur-laden mule for any weapons, but came up empty. As long as either he or Julie stayed on watch, he figured it was safe to offer the trapper a meal and a night's company.

“You say you fought under General Thayer?”

“The very same. Nebraska First, like I say,” Joshua said, chewing on some jerky. “Never so glad we turned cavalry. Dern tired of walking all the time. We were beat to death. Covered a lot of ground all the way to Tennessee, I reckon. Ended up fighting the Sioux and running with the Pawnee on the Platte.”

“I hear you had quite a battle with the Sioux at Whitestone Hill,” said Caleb, remembering Blue Hawk's story. “First Nebraska under General Thayer, was it?”

“That's right. Took it to 'em pretty good.” Joshua tossed Tumble a piece of the meat. Tumble gobbled it up and settled in between the trapper and Caleb. “All that's behind me now. Headin' to California. Try my hand at some prospecting. What do you say we play a little tune? Got a banjo in my bag.”

“Yes!” cried Tilly as she wiggled out of her bed of fur.

“All right, but just a few,” said Julie.

Caleb kept his eye on Joshua as the trapper dug into the pack on his mule and brought out the banjo. Then the man reached into a sack, took out something, and offered it to Tumble, then scratched the little dog's head.

“Good little dog. Kinda funny looking,” chuckled Joshua as he tuned his banjo. “Here we go now!”

Joshua began a lively tune. Tilly danced and jigged, delighted at the fun. Julie even got into it and grabbed Tilly and picked her up, twirling her in the light of the campfire. Caleb took the Henry and leaned against a log and watched. It was good to see his sisters smiling and laughing. It was a rare sight since the tragedies of Great Bend. Tumble lay sound asleep, which puzzled Caleb, for it seemed when anyone in the family danced, Tumble was in on it, barking up a storm.

“Come on, Caleb!” shouted Tilly gleefully as she danced around the fire with Julie.

“Yes, come on, Caleb.” Julie laughed and twirled Tilly. “Show us a jig!”

“No, you go ahead.” Something didn't feel right to Caleb as he watched his sisters have their fun. He reached over to Tumble and scratched the dog's head. Tumble lay as still as a stone.

***

Something indeed was not right. Caleb sat still, pretending to sleep. In the early light of dawn, Caleb quietly brought the Henry to his shoulder and laid his finger on the trigger as he watched Joshua slip a rope around Tumble's neck and tie the other end to a tree. Then Joshua turned and gave a quiet whistle. Soundlessly, two more men emerged from the trees. Guns drawn, they entered the camp. One of them tossed Joshua a rifle. Thieves! Caleb's mind screamed out.

“Hold it!” shouted Caleb as he brought the Henry to bear. He would have to stand up to three of them!

BANG!
The thieves turned to face Julie standing straight up with her pearl-handled Colt, gun smoke pouring from the barrel “Anyone takes a step, I will have no problem shooting you!”

“Now, ease up there, missy,” said Joshua as he raised his rifle. “There's three men here, and I see just you children. We don't want to hurt you. We just want your wagon.”

“Then you will have to shoot me for it, sir.” Julie kept her Colt aimed at Joshua and stood her ground.

“We've come too far to give our wagon up to the likes of you.” Caleb swung the big Henry at the other two thieves.

“Looks like we have ourselves a Mexican standoff,” said Joshua. “Put your guns down and I promise we'll just take the wagon, nothing else.”

“And we should just trust you?” scoffed Julie. “Not likely.”

“What did you give Tumble last night to put him out like that?” asked Caleb, not moving an inch. “I saw you do it.”

“Just a little valerian root. The dog'll be fine. That how you had me figured out?”

“That and the fact that some of your skins have bullet holes and can't be more than a day old and you say you lost your rifle a week ago. Plus, it was the Second Nebraska cavalry under General Sully at the Battle of Whitestone Hill, not the First under Thayer. I know the man who was there,” said Caleb.

“Smart kid, you are. Too smart.” Joshua gestured to one of the other men. “Jeremiah? You see that little girl over there under the bearskin?”

“Yeah, boss.” Jeremiah slowly trained his pistol on Tilly, who was hiding under the grizzly fur.

“If either of these two fire, shoot the little girl,” Joshua said with a victorious smirk. “That sort of changes things up, don't it? See, you and your big sister here trade shot with me and him, little sister gets killed. Now drop that Henry.” Joshua pointed his rifle at Caleb's chest. Caleb stood firm, his mind racing. “Let me repeat that for you,” said the trapper thief as he took a step toward Caleb. “I said drop it, or I'll…”

An arrow stopped Joshua in his tracks, piercing him straight through the throat, sticking out the other side.
ZIP!
Another arrow hit Jeremiah in the leg. Several more arrows found their mark, and the third thief went down. Caleb ran to Tilly and grabbed her, taking her to the ground. Shielding Tilly with his body, he swung the Henry toward Jeremiah just as the wounded man raised his pistol to shoot. Julie beat him to it, firing her Colt, catching Jeremiah in the shoulder. Another arrow hit him dead-center in the chest, and he fell down, dead. Suddenly, all was quiet. The three thieves lay still. Six Indians emerged from the trees, their bows and arrows pointed at Caleb and Julie, who immediately gave up their guns and raised their hands in peace. Two of the Indians drew long knives and spoke in low tones as they carefully checked the bodies of the trappers for any sign of life. Satisfied there was none, they picked up the weapons of the dead. These were not the Sioux friends. These were the Nez Perce. The leader walked up to Caleb and Julie. He was a striking young warrior, broad-chested and powerfully built. He spoke to the other Indians and pointed down the river. Immediately, they began to drag the dead bodies away from camp.

“They will take these bad men down the river and leave them for the wolves,” said the Indian as he looked over their belongings. He uncovered the stash of dried buffalo meat they had stored in the wagon. “I am called Yellow Wolf.” He sniffed the meat. Satisfied, he smiled at them. “We will eat!”

***

“We had much talk of what to do with the white children. Some wanted to kill you; others said they did not want to kill.” Yellow Wolf spoke clearly as he and the other Nez Perce sat with Caleb and Julie as they had their morning breakfast of bread and meat. One of the warriors walked over and gave them back their guns. “We decided we would kill those men for what the whites had done to our women and children at Big Hole.”

“Why didn't you kill us too?” asked Caleb as he checked the Henry rifle. Julie spun the chamber of her Colt. Satisfied, she laid the pistol beside her.