The Old Spanish Trail Page 17
“You’re hurt,” Arch said, as he lifted Bonita from Mike’s horse.
“It’s nothing,” said Bonita. “Mike saved me.”
“I owe you one, amigo,” Arch said.
Mike said nothing, for his eyes were on Rose Delano. There were tears on her cheeks.
Ellie and Millie were quickly lifted down, and they stood there, their faces flaming red.
“Damn it,” said Don, “some of you bring some blankets. The Paiutes stripped them, and we didn’t have time to go looking for what was left of their clothes.”
“There was nothing left,” Bonita said. “Squaws used knives. Clothes or not, I’m just thankful to be alive.”
But Arch was there in record time with a blanket. With equal speed, Jim Roussel and Les Brown brought blankets for Ellie and Millie.
Bonita laughed. “We’re in a fine mess, nothing but blankets to cover us from here on to California.”
“But you got to wear it,” Arch said angrily.
“I don’t have to wear it,” said Bonita, matching his anger. “After all I’ve been through, I don’t feel like taking orders from you, Arch Danson. Mike, will you remove this arrow from my thigh?”
“Yes,” Mike said uncomfortably. “Arch could do it.”
“No, Arch can’t,” said Danson. “You won’t see nothin’ you ain’t already seen. Go on, take it out.”
Dominique and Roberto, understanding the need, already had a pot of water hung over the fire. From his saddlebag, Don took a quart of whiskey and handed it to Mike. Rose had already spread a blanket beneath a tree, where the others couldn’t observe Bonita’s ordeal.
“Here,” Mike said, handing Bonita the whiskey. “Drink about half of this. We might as well take that arrow out and be done with it.”
“Come with me,” said Rose. “I’ve spread a blanket where you can lie down.”
“While Mike’s removing that arrow,” Don said, “the rest of us are goin’ to stand ready with our rifles. We hurt those Paiutes, but there’s still enough of them to make it hot for us if they decide to.”
When Mike went to Bonita, she lay on the blanket with a second one over her. There hadn’t been enough time for the whiskey to take effect, and she spoke.
“What’s wrong with Arch? I thought he would be satisfied that I’m alive.”
“He is glad you’re alive,” said Mike. “I reckon he’s got a burr under his tail because he wanted to ride to your rescue, and Don wouldn’t let him.”
“But Ellie and Millie were captured too,” Bonita said. “Jim and Les didn’t rescue them.”
“Don wouldn’t allow any of them to go,” said Mike, “because they were half-crazy. He was afraid they’d ride in shooting and get the three of you killed along with themselves.”
Bonita laughed. “He’s a wise man, but I think there’s something else bothering Arch. He said you could go ahead and remove the arrow because you wouldn’t see anything you hadn’t already seen. He’s blaming you and me, because the Indians stripped me.”
“I heard him,” Mike said, “and I should have punched his ears down around his boot tops. That was a crude thing to have said, after all you’ve been through.”
“You wouldn’t have felt that way, if Rose had been captured, and was brought back like . . . I was?”
“No,” said Mike. “I’d have been glad she was brought back alive. You’ll have to overlook what Arch said. He’s not a day older than eighteen, and I doubt he’s ever had any talk with a woman except his mama. Besides Don refusing to let him go ridin’ off, mad as hell, looking for you, he’s got a bad case of jealousy bitin’ at him. Right now, he’s about as miserable as a cow caught in a bog hole, and he ain’t got the foggiest idea as to what he can do to make things right. He’ll come crawling around, and when he does, don’t make it too easy for him.”
Drowsy, her eyes slits, Bonita laughed. “I like you, Mike Horton. Perhaps I’ll just tell him to go to hell, and fight with Rose over you.”
Mike said nothing. When her eyes closed, he began rolling up his shirt sleeves. Rose arrived with the pot of boiling water and knelt down beside Bonita.
“This won’t be pleasant to watch,” Mike said. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I know,” said Rose, “but I want to.”
Mike punched the loads from the cylinder of his Colt. He then broke the shaft of the arrow, leaving just enough length to drive it on through. Because of the position of the arrow in Bonita’s left thigh, she lay on her right side. To drive the barb on through, she must lie belly-down, and Mike rolled her over. Gripping the muzzle of the Colt, he used the butt of the weapon, striking the protruding shaft of the arrow. Even under the influence of the whiskey, Bonita grunted with pain. The barb advanced slowly. Even though there was a light breeze, and they were in the shade of a tree, Mike’s shirt was soon dark with sweat, and it dripped off his nose and chin. The Colt became slippery in his hands, and he often stopped to wipe them on the legs of his Levi’s. When the arrow’s deadly barb finally fell free, Mike leaned back, breathing hard. Rose was ready with a clean cloth and hot water to wash the wound. She then poured some of the whiskey into it. She had prepared two cloth pads, and these she soaked in whiskey. One was placed over the wound where the arrow had gone in, and the other over the wound where it had been driven out. She then bound the pads securely, and covered Bonita with the blanket.
“You’re badly in need of a fresh shirt, Mike,” said Rose.
“I know,” Mike said, “but I don’t have one. This one will dry, and it’ll be washed during the next rain storm.”
“I’ll stay with Bonita,” said Rose.
Mike ducked his head in the river, using his hands to wipe his face and to squeeze the water from his hair. He then joined the rest of the outfit.
“How is Bonita?” Don asked.
“She’ll be all right in a couple of days,” said Mike.
“Bueno,” Don said.
“Since we’ll be here until Bonita can ride,” Bob said, “I think we’d better see if those Paiutes are still around. I don’t like this settin’ on ready, not knowing if they’re coming after us or not.”
“I aim to do some scouting after dark,” said Don. “This has been a bad day for them. They lost their chief and at least thirty warriors. If our luck is as good as theirs is bad, they’ll want to get as far from us as they can.”
There was no sign of the Paiutes. When supper was over, and the sun had dipped below the western horizon, Don saddled his horse. The men assigned to the first watch were already circling the herd. Dominique and Roberto had already cross-hobbled the horses the women rode, as well as the pack mules and the horse remuda. When Don was within half a mile of where the Paiute camp had been, he left his horse and continued on foot. While there was only starlight, he could see well enough, and when he reached the clearing, there was no sign of the Paiutes. Satisfied, Don returned to his horse, mounted, and rode downriver.
“Rein up and identify yourself,” said Charlie softly.
“Don, comin’ in,” he replied.
The men on the first watch had all reined up, and when the rest of the outfit gathered around, Don spoke.
“The Paiutes seem to have pulled out. At least, there’s no sign of them beside the river where they were this morning.”
“Bueno,” said Jim Roussel. “They’ve had enough bad medicine.”
“I hope so,” Don said, “but we can’t afford to gamble. We’ll continue with a five-man watch, but when you’re sleeping, be sure your horse is picketed, and don’t shuck anything except your hat. Dominique, you and Roberto move all your horses and mules close to the herd. Be sure they’re all cross-hobbled, and they won’t be goin’ anywhere, even if the herd should run.”
Don and the rest of the second watch settled into their blankets to get what sleep they could. On the first watch, Arch Danson dismounted, and walking his horse, approached the tree under which Bonita slept.
“Who is it?” Rose asked ca
utiously.
“Arch. How is Bonita?”
“Sleeping,” said Rose. “You won’t be able to talk to her until sometime tomorrow.”
“I was hoping I could talk to her tonight,” Arch said.
“Perhaps you talk too much,” said Rose.
“I reckon I do,” Arch said. “I don’t rightly know what to say to her, when she’s able to talk.”
“You can start by telling her you’re sorry for some of the things you said today,” said Rose. “It wasn’t her fault the Paiutes stripped her, and it certainly wasn’t the fault of Mike and the others that they rescued her in that condition.”
“It was her fault she got captured in the first place,” Arch said. “She left camp with Ellie and Millie after Don had warned them not to.”
“I won’t deny that,” said Rose, “but stirring up a fuss over it now won’t change anything. Have you never disobeyed and felt sorry for it afterward?”
Arch laughed. “You got me there. Paw whipped me till my hide wouldn’t hold shucks, but mostly I wasn’t all that sorry. Just sorry I got caught.”
“Bonita’s been mistreated most of her young life,” Rose said. “She’s been whipped and cursed, with never a kind word. If you want her, treat her decent.”
“You done some of the whipping, so you don’t practice what you preach,” said Arch.
“No, I don’t,” Rose admitted, “but I learn from my mistakes. I’ve begged Bonita and the others to forgive me, and they have.”
“If Bonita forgave you, surely she’ll forgive me,” said Arch.
Rose laughed. “Not necessarily. I’m not expecting her to sleep with me for the rest of her life.”
“I reckon I deserved that,” said Arch.
“I’m sorry,” Rose said. “That was unkind. I’ll talk to her some, when she wakes. Then you can talk to her.”
“I’m obliged,” said Arch.
When he had mounted his horse and ridden away, there was a giggle from beneath the blanket where Bonita lay.
“You little wench,” Rose said. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough,” said Bonita. “Since Arch first spoke to you.”
“I ought to go after him, and make you talk to him tonight,” Rose said. “He’s scared and miserable.”
“No more scared and miserable than I was, when the Paiutes had me,” said Bonita. “Let him suffer some.”
“From what Mike said, he wasn’t all that angry with you,” Rose said. “He was really angry with himself. When we learned the Indians had taken you, Ellie, and Millie, all of us were scared. But Arch, Jim, and Les started shouting about killing Paiutes, and Don didn’t allow any of them to ride to the rescue.”
“So Arch took it out on me.”
“Yes,” said Rose. “That’s what it amounted to. It was childish temper. There are some things in life we all have to accept, not because we like them, but because that’s how they are. You didn’t see me giving Mike hell, when he rode in with you riding jaybird naked behind him.”
“You could have,” Bonita said. “Weren’t you just a little jealous?”
“A little,” said Rose. “You’re fresh and unspoiled. I was used goods before I was taken to the mission school.”
“I’m sorry,” Bonita said. “I never knew.”
“I never told anybody except Sarah,” said Rose. “But I told Mike. He’s a kind, decent man, and if he wants me, then he’ll know what he’s getting. I won’t live a lie.”
“I saw the way Mike looked at you before Arch helped me down from Mike’s horse,” Bonita said. “He would have rescued any woman, just as he rescued me.”
“Yes,” said Rose, “and you can’t be sure that Arch wouldn’t have done the same had he had the chance. He’s young, with a lot to learn.”
“But he hasn’t been honest,” Bonita said. “I ought to tell him I was had by some Paiute men, and see how he feels about used goods.”
“Don’t you dare,” said Rose. “A spiteful, lying woman is nothing more than the devil’s pawn.”
While Jim Roussel and Les Brown were angry when Don had forbidden them to ride to the rescue of Ellie and Millie, both men had satisfied themselves with the safe return of the women. When Jim and Les went on the second watch at midnight, they managed to take a few minutes with Ellie and Millie.
“Don’s hardly spoken to me or Millie,” Ellie said. “He must hate the three of us for disobeying and leaving camp.”
“He doesn’t hate any of you,” said Roussel. “I think he was mostly afraid for you, like the rest of us.”
“You know him a lot better than I do,” Ellie said. “I’ve never seen him when he looked the least bit afraid.”
“Only a fool is never afraid,” said Jim. “Despite what a Texan says and how he acts, he can be scared just like anybody else. The difference is courage. Courage allows him to go on when common sense tells him it may be his last trail.”
Les Brown was having a slightly easier time with Millie.
“I was ready to ride off and kill every Paiute I could get in my sights,” Les said, “but Don wouldn’t let me.”
“I wondered why you, Jim, and Arch didn’t come looking for us,” said Millie.
“Don was afraid we’d go off half-cocked and get all of you killed, along with the three of us,” Les said sheepishly. “I reckon he was right, but it made me feel like a damn fool, settin’ here in camp, when I felt like I should be ridin’ to rescue you.”
“Well, I don’t think any less of you,” said Millie.
The night passed without any sign of the Paiutes, and the outfit began to feel a little more secure. Don found Rose with the still-sleeping Bonita.
“How is she, Rose?”
“Better, I think,” said Rose. “She had a fever at midnight, and I’ve given her whiskey twice since then.”
“Bueno,” Don said. “She ought to be sweating soon.”
Arch Danson waited as long as he could. Immediately after breakfast, he was there beside Bonita.
“She’s sleeping off a fever,” said Rose. “You’ll have to wait a while longer.”
“Tell me when she’s able to talk to me,” Arch said. “That is, if she wants to talk to me.”
Rose nodded, saying nothing. The sun was noon-high when Bonita finally awoke. She was able to speak only in a whisper.
“Water,” she croaked.
Rose filled a tin cup four times before the girl’s thirst was satisfied.
“Dear God,” said Bonita, “I don’t ever . . . want any more . . . of that stuff. My head feels like a rock.”
“But you needed it,” Rose said. “Your fever’s broken. Arch was here a while ago. He wants to know when you’re able to talk to him. That is, if you want to.”
“I might as well talk to him now,” said Bonita. “There’s no way I could feel any worse than I do already.”
“This might not be a good time then,” Rose said.
“Good as any,” said Bonita. “Send him over here.”
Arch arrived, and Rose left them alone.
“How do you feel?” Arch asked, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Like hell,” said Bonita, not helping him in the slightest.
“I . . . I’m sorry about . . . what I said yesterday,” Arch stammered. “I shouldn’t have said . . . what I did.”
“Then why did you?” Bonita asked.
“I . . . I . . .” Arch looked down at the toes of his boots.
“You were jealous,” said Bonita unmercifully. “Jealous because I rode in naked behind Mike Horton. Don, Bob, Red, and Charlie saw me naked, and so did every last one of the Paiute men. What are you going to do about that?”
“Nothing, I reckon,” Arch mumbled.
“Well, I’m still naked,” said Bonita, flinging away the blanket. “I kind of like it. I may never wear clothes again. So there!”
“Damn you, Bonita Holmes,” Arch roared, “if you wasn’t wounded, I’d . . . I’d . . .”
“I’d take my belt to you,” Arch all but shouted. “I won’t have a woman behavin’ like . . . like you are. I said I was sorry, damn it. Now you accept that, or tell me to go to hell, but stop beatin’ around the bush.”
“Of course I’ll accept your apology,” said Bonita sweetly. “Whatever gave you the idea that I wouldn’t?”
For a moment, Arch just looked at her, unbelieving. Without a word, he retrieved the blanket she had cast away and spread it carefully over her. He then turned and walked back along the river, toward camp.
“Arch Danson,” said Bonita softly, “before I’m done with you, you’re going to become a man.”
Sunset came early as the sun slipped behind a fortress of dirty gray clouds that had gathered on the far western horizon. Like crimson, mile-high feathers, the last rays of the sun reached far into the blue of the sky.
“There’s a storm building up,” Charlie said. “It’ll hit us not later than tomorrow night, I’d say.”
“I’d say you’re right,” said Don. “It’s just as well we’ll be here another day and night. At least we have some open space alongside the river, without any tall trees to draw the lightning. Maybe this won’t be a bad one.”
But as the night drew on, the clouds became heavier, and a rising wind was cause to doubt the storm would delay much longer.
“It’s gonna blow before morning,” Red predicted.
“Whenever it comes, and whatever comes,” said Don, “all of us will be in the saddle until it passes. It’ll come roaring out of the west, and if the herd’s inclined to run, they’ll run to the east. We’ll move our camp, with supplies, pack mules and the horse remuda up river a ways. Every animal we’re not using will be cross-hobbled. With the river behind the herd to the west, I want every rider in the saddle and blocking them to the east. It’ll be our only hope of heading them.”
“If they get scared enough to run,” Bob said, “we can’t hold them, unless you’re willing to risk some or all of us being trampled.”
“You know I won’t risk that for every damn cow in Texas,” Don said. “We’ll form a line fifty yards east of the herd. If we can’t calm them, once they surge to their feet to run, I want every man of you riding to get out of their path. Don’t risk your life when it becomes obvious we can’t head them.”