Read Online Cheyenne Challenge by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online Page B

on your behind. What’s going to happen is that if they see us all ready to take them on, if they’re not already cooked up for war, they will decide to ride on and leave us in peace.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make sense,” Bookworthy protested. “A belligerent posture invokes a belligerent response.”
    â€œIt might be so back where you come from. But, Injuns think different from us. If they believe their medicine is strong, that the light is just right, and specially if we’re afeared of them, they’ll attack. On the other hand, if they ain’t too sure about their medicine, or that we are able to knock too many of them off their ponies, they won’t. Injuns ain’t stupid. Numbers are real important to them. Gotta have men to protect the village, to hunt meat for everyone. Get too many killed off in battle and everybody suffers. Some might starve, or the village get wiped out by an enemy tribe.”
    â€œWhy, that’s preposterous, Preacher. I’ve been informed by knowledgeable men at Harvard and other colleges that the Indians are peaceful among themselves, at least until the white man came. Only the white man represents a threat to their way of life.”
    Preacher wanted to laugh in the fool’s face, he held it back, though. “An’ that’s just so much heifer dust, Reverend, if you’ll pardon my language. Their lives are as precarious as I’ve said, but war’s a part of their way of life, they’re used to it. Over thousands of years they have become expert survivors. Now I’d advise you to make some arrangements to be armed through the next day or so, like I’m tellin’ everyone else.”
    Preacher found the attitudes divided along the lines of the nature of those he advised. The hired drivers, there were six, all loaded up and spent the nooning hour twisting cartridges out of paper, powder, and shot. The soul-savers were uniformly horrified by the prospect of violence, except, surprisingly, Cora Ames.
    â€œMy father sent along his fine Purdy English rifle and a pair of horse pistols. He may be a man of the cloth, but he’s practical, too. We have our share of highwaymen in Vermont.”
    â€œUmmmm—yes,” Preacher muttered through his dismay. He also revised his estimate of Cora upward by several notches.
    Later, once camp had been established, Cora came to where Preacher peered beyond the circled wagons. “We were fortunate in not having trouble with the Indians on the way out. Maybe it would have been better if we had. Reverend Bookworthy is expending great effort to talk our people into having nothing to do with guns. He wants us all to stay close to the fire ... and to build it up even more.”
    Preacher turned to her. “That danged fool. He’d make perfect targets out of all of you.”
    â€œHe pointed out that night has fallen and we’ve not been attacked. And everyone knows that Indians don’t attack in the dark.”
    Preacher made a rude sound. “What ’everyone knows’ ain’t necessarily true. Injuns will attack at night. Like I tried to make him understand, if the Injuns think their medicine is good and their numbers big enough, they’ll attack day or night. Now, I’d better go do something about gettin’ that fire down to coals, so’s we can see them when they come.”
    â€œYou’re ... that sure?” Cora asked uncertainly.
    â€œI feel it in my bones. I can smell ’em out there. I reckon they’ll pick a time closer to the middle of the night. When they do, you’d best be ready to bang away with that rifle and the pistols you brung.”
    Preacher excused himself and went to get something done about the fire, which he insisted be put out entirely. He got a windy objection from Reverend Bookworthy and several missionaries, which he addressed by simply shouting them down. Cora looked on and shook her head in