the Thundering Herd (1984) (11 page)

Mrs. Jett then appeared among them, and her advent, probably because of Jett's remark, occasioned ill-suppressed mirth.

"I heard what you said, Rand Jett," she retorted, glaring at him.

"You can't make me welcome to any man, much less a hide thief like Hank Follonsbee."

"Shut your face," returned Jett, in an entirely different tone.

"You know your job. Rustle to it."

That ended the approach to humor. When Follonsbee fetched the water they all washed and splashed with great gusto. This pleasant task finished, they showed plainly what little leisure was now possible to them, for they got their kits and began reloading shells and sharpening knives.

"Catlee, you clean the guns," ordered Jett.

While thus busily engaged they talked of the day's hunt--of the half hour of shooting that was fun and the eight hours of skinning that was labor--of the hide-stretching still to do before sleep could be thought of. Milly listened with keen ears in the hope they might drop some word of the Hudnall outfit, but she spent her attention in vain.

Presently Mrs. Jett called, "Come to supper."

"Or you'll throw it out, huh?" queried Jett, rising with alacrity.

They ate hurriedly and prodigiously, in silence, and each man reached for what he wanted without asking. Jett was the first to finish.

"Fill up, you hawgs," he said to his comrades; "we've work to do.--

Jane, you an' Milly clean up--then go to bed. We'll be just outside the grove, stretchin' hides."

Milly lay awake a long while that night, yet did not hear the men return. Next day they had breakfast before sunrise and were off with a rush. Milly spent quiet hours on the shady bank, where the sweetness and music were undisturbed. Another day passed in which she saw nothing of the men except at the morning and evening meal hours. Jett and his helpers were settling into the strenuous routine of hide-hunting.

On the fourth day they broke camp and traveled twenty miles down the same side of the river, to halt in the only clump of trees Milly had noted for hours. Next morning Jett's men were again hunting buffalo. That night they did not return until long after dark. Milly had gone to bed, but she heard their gruff, weary voices.

The following day was again one of breaking camp and traveling south. Milly observed that the country changed, while yet it seemed the same; and she concluded that it was the vastness and wildness which grew. Next morning she heard shooting up until noon. She was so grateful to be left alone that the hours seemed to fly. There was always a place where she could hide near camp, and Jett seldom forgot to mention this. As they journeyed farther south his vigilance as well as his excitement increased day by day.

From the camp-fire talk Milly gathered that both the number of buffalo and of hunters were augmenting. Yet Jett appeared to have established the rule of traveling one day and hunting the next. As he progressed the work grew more arduous. There was no road over this endless plain, and the level stretches were cut up, sometimes necessitating the unloading and reloading of the wagons. May warmed to June. The plain was now one wide rolling expanse of green, waving gently to every breeze; the stream courses were marked by a line of deeper green, trees now in full foliage. Herds of buffalo began to show to the east of this stream Jett was following. His hunting, however, he did on the west side, where Milly understood the buffalo ranged in larger numbers.

At length Jett traveled two days southward and then crossed the stream to its west bank. Following it down on that side, he was halted by a large river.

"Ha, boys, here's the Red, an' it's our stampin' ground this summer," he rolled out, sonorously.

For a camp he chose a spot hard to reach, as well as hard to espy from above. A forest of timber and brush bordered both sides of this Red River, and once down in it neither river nor plain could be seen. Jett spent the remainder of that day making permanent camp. Follonsbee, whom he had sent on a reconnoitering ride up the river, returned about sunset.

"Believe I saw fifty square miles of buffalo," he announced, impressively, sitting in his saddle and gazing down at the leader.

"Huh! I took that for granted," replied Jett. "How far did you go?"

"Reckon about five miles up an' climbed a big bluff above the river. Could see for miles. An' shore that sight stumped me.

Why, Rand, I couldn't see the end of buffalo, an' I was usin' the telescope, too!"

"That's more to the point--how many outfits could you spot?" demanded Jett, impatiently.

"Wal, I spotted enough, an' some to spare," drawled the other.

"West of the bluff I seen camp smokes all along the river, as far as I could see."

"Any camps close?"

"Only two between ours an' the bluff," replied Follonsbee. "Then there's one on the point across the creek. Reckon outfits are strung down the river, too. Buffalo everywhere."

"Ahuh! It's the main herd. Now, I wonder will they run north."

"Reckon so. But if they do they'll turn back."

"You figger on their bein' blocked by the gang of hide-hunters behind us?"

"Prezactly. We couldn't be in a better stand. This big herd is massed in a triangle. River on the south; Staked Plain on the west, an' on the third side thousands of hunters."

"Yes. It's seems that way. Mighty big bit of country, but it IS a trap."

"Where do the Indians come in your calculatin'?" queried Follonsbee.

"Nowhere. If they get mean the buffalo-hunters will band together an' do what the soldiers couldn't do--chase the damned redskins up in their Staked Plain an' kill them."

"Wal, it looks like a hell of a summer, huh?"

"I reckon so, all around. It means the end of the buffalo, an' that means peace with the Indians, whether they fight or not."

"Rand, this is the huntin' ground of Comanches, Cheyennes, Kiowas, an' Arapahoes. The land an' the buffalo are theirs."

"Theirs--hell!" exploded Jett, in contempt.

"Shore I know your sentiments," returned Follonsbee, rather shortly. "Like most of these hide-hunters, you say wipe the redskins off the earth. To me it looks like a dirty trick. I'd rather steal from a white man than an Indian. . . . But I'm givin' you my idee for what it's worth. We'll have to fight."

Jett appeared for the moment in a brown study, while he paced up and down, swinging a short rope he had in his hand.

"If the Indians are on the war-path, as we hear, won't they wait till this bunch of hunters has a big store of hides on hand--before startin' that fight?" he queried, shrewdly.

"I reckon they would," admitted Follonsbee.

"An' when they do come raidin', we're goin' to get the hunch in plenty of time, aren't we?" went on Jett.

"We shore have a fine stand. With hunters east an' west of us, an' millions of buffalo out there, we can't hardly be surprised."

"Wal, then, what's eatin' you?" growled Jett.

"Nothin.' I was just gettin' things clear. We're agreed on the main points. Now one more. The sooner we make a big stake, the better?"

Jett nodded a significant acquiescence to that query, and then went about his tasks. Follonsbee, dismounting, took the saddle off his horse. Soon after that Mrs. Jett called them to supper.

At this camp Milly lost her wagon as an abode, a circumstance, on the moment, much to her displeasure. The wagon, being high off the ground, and with its box sides, had afforded more of protection, if not comfort. Jett had removed hoops and canvas bodily and had established them as a tent, a little distance from the main camp.

Milly pondered apprehensively over this removal by some rods from the rest of the tents. Perhaps Mrs. Jett had inspired this innovation, and if so Milly felt that she would welcome it. But she had doubts of every move made by the leader of the outfit.

Upon entering the improvised tent Milly found that she could not stand erect, but in all other particulars it was an improvement.

She could lace both doors tightly, something impossible when the tent was on the wagon. She unrolled her bed and made it up. Then she unpacked and unfolded her clothes and hung them conveniently at the back. Her bag, with its jumbled assortment of things she had thought so poor, now, in the light of this wild travel, assumed proportions little short of precious. She could have been worse off--something which before had never crossed her mind. Without soap, linen and muslin, a sewing kit, mirror, a few books, and many other like articles, she would have found this camp life in the wilderness something formidable to face.

When she went outside again daylight was still strong and the afterglow of sunset was spreading in beautiful effulgence over the western sky. Milly gazed about her. It appeared that a jungle lay between camp and the river. Jett and his men were in earnest and whispered council, with guns and tools and ammunition for the moment forgotten. Mrs. Jett sat a forlorn and sullen figure in front of her tent. Milly needed and wanted exercise. She began to walk around the camp. No one paid any heed to her. Indeed, since reaching the buffalo fields, she had become a negligible attraction, for which she was devoutly thankful.

Summer had indeed come to this northern part of Texas. The air was drowsy and warm. She found a few belated flowers blossoming in a shaded place. A spring bubbled from under a bank, and as she passed it frogs plumped into the water. She heard the mournful cooing of turtledoves.

Milly found a trail that evidently made short cut of the distance up to the plain, and she followed it, not without misgivings.

Jett, however, did not call her, and emboldened by this she ventured on. The slope was gradual and covered by heavy timber.

Her heart began to beat and her breath to come and go quickly. She felt her stagnant blood enliven to the call made upon it. She saw a flare of gold and rose sky beyond the black tree trunks. It was not so very far from camp--this first level of the plain. She wanted to see the great herd of buffalo. Thus engrossed, she went on to the edge of the timber, and halted there to gaze outward. A wonderful green plain stretched away to the west, rising gradually.