The Rider of Phantom Canyon (15 page)

It was almost dark now, and Joshua grabbed his bow and arrows and left as Scottie started a pot of stew. Joshua headed toward the lake farther north, traveling through the trees. He wore his moccasins and soon came upon a lone younger mule deer buck grazing on the rich grasses in a break in the trees.

Strongheart reached down while still keeping his eyes on the buck. He had seen several thistles and pulled the top off of one. Bringing it slowly to his lips, he blew, and the thistles blew directly from his left to his right. That was just what he wanted. He nocked an arrow on the string and slowly moved forward, watching not the deer's head, but his tail.

Mule deer, white-tailed deer, and even black-tailed deer in America all have the same type of vision, which Native Americans learned through centuries of trial and error. They had rods and cones in their vision, so could see the ground directly in front of them but nothing in their peripheral vision. They also could not see anything that was not moving, so if the wind was right, Joshua could sneak in close to the buck, no matter how near, as long as he was silent and froze in place whenever the deer raised its head. As long as the wind did not shift, he would watch the deer's tail, because a nerve in the tail would make it twitch very, very slightly a split second before the deer raised its head. If Joshua saw the tail twitch and his foot was in the air stepping forward, he would freeze, holding his body perfectly still until the deer put its head back down to graze some more.

When Joshua would go to his father's village as a boy and a young man, he would sometimes go out with younger braves, and they would challenge each other to see who could stalk closest to a deer or elk. He usually won. One thing he learned that was very important was that deer seemed to see shiny things very easily. For that reason, Strongheart had tucked his Colt Peacemaker into the back of his gun belt. He also learned as a boy that sometimes when he got close to deer, they could see themselves in their own reflection off his eyeballs. He learned when he got very close to squint, so they could not see the shine. Twice he had literally reached out and touched the side of the hindquarters of mule deer does.
In both cases, he got kicked, once cutting his skin over a rib, and he ended up with a painful little bruise on the rib from the powerful legs and tiny hooved feet.

He moved until he was within twenty feet of the deer, and when it put its head down, he drew his arrow. He held the string with three fingers, as always, and put his bent right thumb up against his jaw on the right side, kept both eyes open, took a breath and let it halfway out, and held his aim slightly over the deer's rump and to the right of him. The arrow struck true and entered low behind the buck's left shoulder, slicing through the meat and its heart, nicking the right lung as it went out the right side of its chest. It jumped up, kicking both hind legs, and ran in bounding leaps into the trees along the lakeside, and Joshua saw it fall not much beyond that.

Wiya Waste and Scottie sat in front of a small, crackling fire with vegetables, cattail roots, and dandelions cooking on a small pot that Scottie had carried with him. Joshua walked out of the trees with the small buck, field dressed, over his broad right shoulder.

He said, “Now we have some nice meat.”

They both smiled, and he immediately cut them backstraps off the deer and started cooking them over the fire. As he had been taught, Scottie had stuck two green, forked sticks into the ground on both sides of the fire, with a sharpened green stick over the fire, sitting in the notches of the forked sticks. Joshua impaled the backstraps with these.

The three were enjoying the meal and cups of coffee,
and Wiya Waste grinned, saying, “Now, if all the bad men come and kill us, our stomachs will be happy.”

This remark really struck Strongheart's fancy. Maybe because he was exhausted and all he had been through, he started laughing, which made him laugh even harder, and soon all three were laughing uproariously. Then it hurt Wiya Waste to laugh, and she moaned, and this made Scottie and Joshua laugh even more, and she of course joined in. All three sat around the campfire, tears rolling down their cheeks.

All of a sudden the three stopped, and Scottie suddenly said seriously, “I did not know that Indians laughed. I always thought you were so serious.”

Joshua and the beautiful Sioux woman looked at each other, and both started laughing even more at Scottie's innocent remark. Joshua had not laughed so hard in years, and literally fell backward off the stump he had been sitting on.

During the brief time that Strongheart, Scottie, and Wiya Waste were in the Wet Mountain Valley and the Sangre de Cristo mountains, a lot had happened. The Denver and Rio Grande Railroad had essentially won the railroad war in court when the court found in their favor over the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway. Several skirmishes took place at the AT&SF garrisons in Colorado, in both Denver and Colorado Springs. Doc Holliday and Bat Masterson's headquarters were in Pueblo, where gunfighters held out the longest, but they eventually accepted defeat. Doc and Bat and a few of the gun hands headed up to Westcliffe to get their final pay, and Victoria's new go-between ranch foreman, Swede Johansen, told them about Joshua and the other
two running and hiding out in the folds of the purple-and-green mountain range. Of course, he neglected to say that one was a Sioux Indian woman and the other was a teenaged boy. What he said was that Joshua and two cohorts sneaked in, climbed up the wall around the ranch complex, and tried to dry-gulch V. R. Clinton, firing at him through the windows with rifles and shotguns.

Now there were twenty-three men searching for Joshua Strongheart and his companions, and the group was headed by Bat Masterson and Doc Holliday. The entire group had returned to the ranch headquarters, and there they met up with Doc and Bat. They told where they had searched so far, but they were waiting for a Mountain Ute Indian tracker named Fancy Moccasins, who was wearing very modest, plain, dirty elk-hide moccasins. He was a noted tracker and told Swede he could indeed find three people, no matter how hard they tried to hide their trail.

After the ones who had returned pointed at the big range and explained where they had already searched, Doc commented to Swede, “Ah do believe, suh, that this altitude is definitely not conducive to my prolonged health and well-being. In fact, the altitude here in Westcliffe has been horrible for my current medical inconvenience. Therefore, I shall go down to a lower elevation and await more news, maybe at a faro table in Pueblo. Mah good friend Bat Masterson heah will know how to find me, if Ah'm needed. In fact, there is a hotel on the
west end of Cañon City with some delightful medicinal hot springs. I do believe I shall go there instead and soak up some of that good natural medicine and see if they have any good faro games in the evening. I met Mr. Strongheart and have very strong reservations about him bushwhacking anybody. In fact, if you continue pursuing him, I can guarantee that a good many of you will not be returning. Good hunting, gentlemen.”

Bat shook hands with him, and Doc turned his horse, heading toward distant Westcliffe. As he rode away, the group watched the frail gunfighter and sporting man, as he called himself, several in the group sensing they were witnessing and had been riding, however briefly, with one who was to become a Western legend. Swede wanted to challenge Doc's comments about not believing that Strongheart was a dry-gulcher, but he thought better of it. More than one person had raised the former dentist's ire, and they soon learned how proficient he actually was with both pistols and his hidden knife. That took place earlier in the day.

*   *   *

After Joshua and Wiya Waste stopped laughing at a chuckling, embarrassed Scottie's expense, Strongheart explained, “The Lakota, just like white people, love to laugh, to love, to have families, enjoy their children, eat good meals, you name it.”

Scottie said, “Never thought about things like that.”

Joshua said, “Unfortunately, most people don't.”

Joshua put a couple of logs on the fire and said, “We better get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll need to be more careful. They will eventually find us, but I do not want Wiya Waste to move yet. She lost a lot of blood, and I don't want her to get an infection.”

Scottie said, “Good night.”

Strongheart said, “Night, Scottie.”

Wiya Waste said, “Good night.”

Scottie said, “Mr. Strongheart—I mean, Joshua—do we need to take turns keeping watch?”

The Pinkerton replied, “No, not tonight. The horses will let us know if anybody comes along before they get here. Most of the breezes are coming from downhill toward us, and with the high cliffs, the horses will hear voices and hooves echoing from a long ways off.”

Scottie used his saddle as a pillow and lay down on his slicker, covering up with his blanket roll.

Meanwhile, Strongheart pleasantly surprised Wiya Waste, as he lay down next to her, covering both of them with the blanket, and laid her head on his massive arm. There was no place in the world she would rather be.

Joshua said, “Scottie, I have all my clothes on and am just lying here to help keep her warm tonight so she can get rest.”

Scottie had his back to both of them, and said, “Yes, sir,” while grinning to himself.

All Wiya Waste ever wanted her entire life was to be held by those massive arms and lay her head on that muscular chest. She felt so protected in Joshua's grasp,
and she knew the odds of her dying from such a wound. She thought that if she did die now, her life was complete anyway, because she was finally in Joshua's embrace, her lifelong passion.

At the same time, Strongheart was thinking about how horrible he had felt for months after the gruesome death of Annabelle Ebert, his fiancée. He thought about how much he beat himself up for not being able to protect her from the horrible multiple murderer Blood Feather. He knew that Wiya Waste had come on her own to bring him news about Victoria Clinton, but he still felt an obligation to protect her and do everything in his power to shield her from death somehow. He simply could not bear thinking about losing another woman he loved.

Then he thought about Brenna Alexander in Chicago. She was wealthy, beautiful, passionate, successful, and well-groomed, and she was madly in love with him. He thought about how impossible a marriage to Wiya Waste would be. She, like his father, was a full-blooded Lakota and grew up as part of a tribal circle, with different beliefs, daily habits, and societal mores. He could live among his father's people and be happy, but he was a Pinkerton agent. That was his career, and he was passionate about it. He could not live among the People permanently. He pictured Belle again and thought about how much he had missed her. He suddenly felt guilty. Although he was fully clothed, Wiya Waste was naked under the blanket, and he felt her soft skin where it
touched his arms and neck. He had bathed her, and she smelled of soap and of woman. He drifted off to sleep with this beautiful Sioux woman, the daughter of Crazy Horse, almost purring with her head on his chest and his arm around her.

*   *   *

Joshua's eyes opened, and he reached for his Peacemaker and slowly, quietly drew it from his holster. Eagle was restless. Strongheart looked at Wiya Waste beside him, and her eyes were wide open.

She whispered, “I heard your horse, too.”

He whispered, “Put your dress and moccasins on, quietly, slowly. Do you need my help?”

“No,” she whispered.

He just lay there, watching, listening.

The big silvertip grizzly had been a mile away when a quick wind shift brought a world of information to his nostrils and his brain. He caught the smell of their fire, her soap, the rifles and pistols and the gunpowder, the hanging deer carcass, the vegetables they ate, the coffee, and the horses. His mind cataloged all these smells, and the bear instinctively knew the deer was dead. He was standing on his hind legs again and could see the dim fire from the camp. Joshua saw his outline against the moonlit surface of the lake. He was now a dark shadow just standing up and testing the wind. It had shifted toward them. To get downwind, he would have to circle around, but would have to climb one of the cliffs
surrounding them. The human smell brought a memory. Two years earlier, in the bear's fourth summer, he was outside a ranch near Poncha Springs. He was eating afterbirth in the spring, which bears loved to do, and was able to catch a newly born calf and break its neck with one quick bite. He was feeding when suddenly he smelled that man smell for the first time, and there was a loud explosion as the rancher shot. The bullet hit a rock under his left foreleg, but it splintered and a sliver went into his front leg and partially into his knee joint. It was painful at times, as it moved around in and out of the joint, but it served as a reminder that the man smell brought pain and loud noise. The boar was salivating, but the fear of man smell overpowered his instinct to gather easy food. He dropped to all fours and sauntered away, skirting the lake, and followed the wind coming into his face. He would travel fifteen more miles north before lying down and feeding off the rotting carcass of a lightning-struck elk.

Without a word other than Joshua saying, “He left,” the two fell asleep again, but not before he thought about how impressed he was that she awakened, too, at the horses' soft nickering. Strongheart was very glad her clothes were back on.

He dreamed and saw Belle Ebert floating down off a cloud and into his arms. They kissed and made love, but then he opened his eyes and she was gone, and Brenna Alexander was lying there, and they kissed and he opened his eyes, and Wiya Waste was lying there,
smiling up into his face. Then, all three appeared before him and started arguing with each other. They all walked up into the cloud still arguing, and Strongheart awakened, frustrated.

He got up and checked on the horses, then built up the fire. Joshua was going through the pile of firewood, pulling out some pieces of wood and tossing them aside. Scottie got up, and so did Wiya Waste, who started making breakfast.

Scottie said, “Joshua, why are you throwing some of the sticks and logs off into another pile?”

Joshua said, “We could see the bad men today, but we do not have to make their job easier. We want a smokeless fire. Now, we can't really have it smokeless, but I am sorting out the wood that causes more smoke. I also picked this spot so there are trees nearby that will filter a lot of the smoke before it gets up into the sky.”

Scottie said, “I never thought of that.”

Strongheart replied, “Think about the times you have been out in the prairie and saw campfire smoke from miles away.”

Scottie said, “Yeah, it is very easy to spot.”

Strongheart said, “So, if you are in that spot, you want to make a smaller fire and be sure you use very dry wood, usually with the bark off, that is older, with no greenness to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Scottie responded.

He saddled his horse and grabbed his rifle.

Strongheart said, “Where are you going?”

Scottie said, “To scout down the canyon a little and make sure nobody's coming yet.”

Joshua said, “I think you should stay here, Scottie. Too dangerous.”

Scottie laughed and said, “We have a bunch of killers looking for us. There's you, and there's me, a teenaged boy, and a wounded woman, a Sioux woman, who is probably better with her bow and arrows than her rifle, and she can't shoot the bow because she is shot up. You want me to stay here because it is too dangerous?”

Wiya Waste started laughing, and Strongheart chuckled himself.

“Guess if you want to be a man, I should let you,” Joshua said.

Wiya said, “Why do you not wait, Scottie, and eat first? The food is ready.”

He sat down with the other two, and they ate breakfast and drank coffee. Joshua said, “Make sure you both drink plenty of water this morning, too. We don't know how much we might be running and moving today.”

Scottie thanked the beauty and mounted up, galloping off into the trees. Strongheart was glad the boy was using his head, not exposing himself by riding the easy way around the lake. He could hear him breaking branches as he went through the trees.

He poured two more cups of coffee, and he and Wiya Waste sat down by the fire.

“I have to get you to a hospital,” he said. “Your wound looks angry in the front and the back.”

“What does this mean?” she replied.

“It means it has become infected,” Joshua said. “It can kill you if we do not take care of it.”

“My friend's mother died because of a small wound that got infected,” she said. “I understand. The white men will not let me go to their hospital.”

“Oh yes, they will,” he said. “I will make sure of that.”

She felt proud hearing him say that, as he was being protective of her. She would never forget being able to sleep on his arm all night.

Strongheart said, “There is an Indian hospital in Oklahoma, but I am taking you to the hospital in Denver where I stayed when I was attacked by a grizzly and when I got shot up in Florence.”

“How will you make them let me be there?” she asked.

Strongheart said, “Trust me. I will.”

She smiled and took a sip of coffee, which she loved with cream and sugar, but which only had sugar right now.

“We must get ready to go,” Strongheart said.

She immediately pulled out her rifle and started cleaning it.

Joshua said, “You won't need that. Scottie and I will be doing the shooting. I am more worried about you being able to stay on your horse.”

She set her rifle down and walked over to Joshua, looked around, and said, “Wanji Wambli, Scottie is not
here, so you listen to me now. My words are iron! I love you, Joshua. I have since I was a little girl, but I am not your baby girl. I am a woman. I am Lakota! I am the daughter of Crazy Horse. I am a warrior, and it is time to fight. We have many enemies today, and this is a good day to die. If I die, I die with the man I love. But do not treat me like I am weak. I am hurt, but I am a warrior, and I will fight and I will count many coup this day. Do you understand?”

Joshua grinned, saying, “Yes, ma'am.”

They struck the camp and mounted up. At the end of the canyon, Scottie carefully moved his horse forward. He heard a stone roll down a steep ridge at one point, and he heard one tree branch crack in the distance. Before him the trail narrowed significantly, and it seemed a perfect place for any ambush. He clutched his carbine a little more tightly as he moved toward the squeeze point. Where the trail suddenly narrowed there was thick foliage on both sides, mainly from a scrub oak thicket and stunted cedars. Next to the trail was a large, hollowed-out tree stump that had obviously been exploded by lightning years before. It stood about ten feet high.