Chapter IX
Travels Begin
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Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI, Chapter VII, Ch. VIII
At dawn the next morning, Asiago and I were standing outside the Rusty Nail. The sun was just a glimmer on the horizon, but the breath of the horses and the old mule caught the early light.
The day before had been a whir. I cut a deal with the old Methodist sister--the owner of the Happy Clapper. She wouldn't buy the Rusty Nail from me--she shared the scruples of her sister and brother-in- law. But like all good Christians, she had figured out how to distinguish between sinning and profiting from the sinning of others. I kept the place in my name. The old sister first proposed to split the profits between us, but thought we ought to allow a regular contribution to the church, just for the sake of a clear conscience. I agreed, drew up a quick agreement, got her signature, and went back inside the bar for my stuff.
I packed a small carpet bag, and loaded some flour, dried buffalo, and coffee. I also loaded a couple of jars of olives, just so we would have a taste of home on our journey.
Asiago showed up with his horse and saddlebags, looked over the mule and the packing, and announced himself pleased. By now the sun was up and Heinz wasn't there. True to his word, Asiago got on his horse, signaled for me to get on mine, and we started north on the road out of town.
We had hardly started when Heinz came galloping up behind us, barely keeping himself in the saddle. He pulled up along side of us. The three of us started out to an unknown destination, on a trip of uncertain duration. I felt like girl again, and could barely stop myself from smiling.
Now as I said before Keenan's wasn't much of a town, and not being much of a town, it didn't have much in the way of roads. The road out north only went for a mile or so, and then disappeared in the Wyoming hardpack. No path. We just headed north northeast, following Asiago.
After two days ride we hit the Tongue River. The ride had been leisurely but hot. It was late May but the heat was more like summer. We stretched our camp along the bank of the river. Asiago shot some rabbit for dinner. Heinz cooked it up. With the olives and cold fresh water of the river, we felt like it was a feast.
No sign of Injun. None of us said much, and Asiago didn't seem worried. Occasionally Asiago would ride off and scout for Injun, but he remained convinced that Injun would find us, rather than the other way around. The next morning after our feast, Asiago gave some sense of his plans, for the first time since we left.
"We'll follow the river for a few miles down stream, and then turn north."
"Why," I asked.
"If he is traveling, it wouldn't be up into the Big Horns. They don't have what he is looking for. Also, we may have already passed him. Our camps along the river will guide him to us, and give us food and water before we move on."
"What is he looking for," I asked.
"Buffalo."
"Why Buffalo."
"He would prefer giraffes, but ain't no giraffes nearby."
Asiago was making fun of me and avoiding the question, and I didn't press.
So we ambled along the banks of Tongue, not sure whether to look or or just wait be seen. Since Injun was on foot, we didn't want to out pace him. He didn't have that much of a head start.
About 5 days out we started seeing small groups of calvary. They would cross the river and head more northerly. Most of the time we would nod, they would touch their brims, and they would move on. The traffic was thin but steady.
We had set up camp one evening, and had started dinner when one of these groups of soldiers came ambling in--three riders, one wagon with a team tended by another soldier--and Old Injun tied up in the back of the wagon.
I gasped. Asiago barely looked up but grabbed Heinz's arm as he began to stand. The message was clear--every notice nothing.
"Evening folks," said a young lieutenant. "Evening, officer," responded Asiago, pleasant as could be. "Care for some coffee."
"Obliged." Asiago poured cups for the lieutenant and two other soldiers--enlisted men. They all found places around the fire. Without asking, Heinz served them some beans and rabbit. They slurped the food down. With bellies, desert was conversation.
"I am Jack Potts, Lieutenant Jack Potts. The ugly fellow over there is Private Noah Parts, and the uglier one missing part of his nose has the given name of Arbogast J. Smith, but he is known as Possum Nose Smith. Despite his looks and his name, he is one fine corporal."
No one thought to mention Injun. Asiago was playing his cards slow.
"My name is Cheese. Asiago Cheese. This lady here is Lilly Muldoon, and the fellow over there is Heinz...Heinz I never knowed your last name."
"Heinz! That's a helluva a name for a Chinaman." Possum Nose didn't see the irony of questioning anyone's name.
"Just Heinz is fine," offered Heinz. "I am a Chinaman sure enough, but none of you got the tongue to pronounce my real name."
The issue of names caught Asiago's attention. "Heinz isn't Chinaman; it's German and German I can manage."
"Heinz ain't my real name. My Chinese name contains 'Han.' Folks never could say the real Chinese name; the barely picked up 'Han' and slowly it got changed to Heinz. It just got easier to answer to Heinz than try to teach white people Chinese."
"Well that's some story, Mr. Heinz-Han. I feel luck to be plain old Jack Potts. What brings you folks out in this country. Hell of a way to go for a picnic."
"We is traveling to find some ranch country, raise horses. Miss Lilly here is a first rate saloon keeper, Heinz is a fair cook, and I'm a decent hand with horses. Heading kinda north to find some small town; Heinz and Ms. Muldoon can offer the benefit of food and drink, raise some money; they hope to throw in with me and make money horse ranching."
Asiago never mentioned this plan to us but it made a convincing story. I took to memorizing figuring we would come of use in the future.
"Miss Muldoon," Lieutenant Potts said as he turned to me and touched his brim. "You wouldn't have some whiskey in your stores, M'am." My men and I sure are thirsty.
"Uh, ye..." I sputtered and Asiago jumped in to save me. "Lilly," I am sure these brave soldiers deserve a drink. Looks like the they been hard on the trail catching Indians."
Asiago's first mention of Old Injun, tied up in the wagon.
"Oh him," said Potts. "We just stumbled upon him walking along the trail. He wasn't doing no harm, but figured he wasn't doing no good. We look to drop him off first place they got a jail or a gallows."
"Nope," said Potts. "We weren't tracking. We're heading up to the 7th Calvary. That's when I expect we'll see plenty of Indians. Ole Custer, he is some Indian fighter."
I walked over and pulled out a bottle from the pack, gave my best sashay back to the fire, flashed my prettiest smile, and handed the bottle to Potts.
Off came the top followed by a long swallow. He was thoughtful enough to pass the bottle around to his men. They never bothered to invite us to their party. Guess they figured we had plenty of our own.
The first bottle emptied quick. Asiago caught my eye and nodded to the pack mule. I had a vague idea of what was happening, and got up to get our friends another bottle. The first one was taking effect. It had been gracefully accepted. Potts just snatched the second one out of my hands.
Heinz and I watched Asiago wait, and Asiago waited for his next move. The liquor drowned out the soldier's interest in conversation, and soon they were sound asleep, snoring booze and farting beans.
Asiago got up slowly, walked to the Lieutenant, knelt down behind his head and brought his mouth up to his ear. "BOO!"
Potts sat bolt upright. Asiago grabbed him from behind and put his knife to his throat. The diligent Corporal Possum Nose and Private Parts, bumbled and fogged, flapped around for their guns and finally got them pointed to the scene of the disturbance. Asiago just sat calmly behind Potts, knife at Potts' throat, looking like a barber about to give a shave.
"Now," said Asiago, "You boys keep your heads, and your Lieutenant will keep his. Throw you guns over by the wagon." Our heroes complied quickly. Potts breathed for the first time since he had awakened.
"Heinz, pick up one of those guns and get me the other. Get some rope here and tie up the Corporal and Private."
That task completed, Asiago tied up the Lieutenant, then went over to check out Injun.
"You okay"?
"Would you mind cutting me loose."
"Oh sure." Asiago cut the ropes.
"What the hell are you doing," whined Private Parts.
"Coffee," said Injun.
"Sure," said Asiago. "Now, Private, not that it is any concern of yours, but manpower is kind of thin where we are going and I figure this fellow will work cheap. Anyway, you and your comrades in arms are going to have other problems. Injun and Heinz, lets knock off one of those wheels off the wagon."
Once the wheel was off, Asiago and Injun secured the three soldiers to it, then tied their feet with enough play so that they could each take a step if they worked together. By this time, dawn was coming.
"Now, gentlemen," said Asiago, "I am not going to kill you. Your only mistake was being stupid and if I got in the business of killing stupid people, I wouldn't have time to do eat, excrete, or screw. But I need to make sure you don't follow us anytime soon. So this is what I am going to do.
"Here's a knife," and Asiago held up one of the knives taken from the soldiers. "And that is where it is going to be." Asiago lobbed the knife about 50 feet into a thicket. "You figure how to walk with that wheel and find the knife, you can cut yourself free. You got water down by the river, so you can drink if you need to--just be careful you don't drown one another. If you figure out how to drink and find the knife, you'll live, but by that time we'll be long gone. If you don't, you'll die, but that won't be on us; that will be because you're stupid. Either way you won't be a problem."
With that bit of sophistry, Asiago turned to us. "Heinz split the stores from the mule among us; we will each take as much as makes sense and leave the rest. Send the mule on its way."
Injun walked over to the the Lieutenant's horse, whispered in its ear, then saddled it up. The rest saddled our own mounts. Once the supplies were divided, Heinz slapped the mule on the ass, and we mounted. Injun thanked the Lieutenant for his horse.
"You'll hang for this," Potts sputtered.
"You were going to hang me anyway, so I might as well get something out of it," said Injun.
Off we rode, following Injun. "What stores did we leave behind," I asked."
Heinz turned to me. "The olives."
"Damn," said Asiago.
To be continued