Read Online Comanche Moon by Larry McMurtry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Larry McMurtry
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tracks. It was annoying that Scull had taken Famous Shoes--the Kickapoo could have read the tracks easily, told them what band the raiders belonged to, and, probably, how many captives they were carrying into captivity. Call was not so skilled, nor was anyone else in the troop.
He knelt by the dead boy and felt again the weariness that the sight of such quick, casual death raised in him. The boy was barefoot, and so skinny that it seemed he had never had a filling meal in his life; probably he hadn't. The likelihood was that he had been snatched off some poor farm off one of the several branches of the Brazos, the river that tempted settlement most, due to the fertility of its long, lightly wooded valleys.
When the troop came in sight and saw that Call was dismounted, the rangers spurred up and sped to him, only to stop and stare in silence at the dead boy, the thin line of blood from his broken skull streaking the gray grass.
"Lord, he was just a young 'un," Long Bill said.
"I just missed the raiding party," Call said.
"I doubt they're five miles ahead." Augustus, whose keen vision was his pride, looked far north and saw the raiding party--they were so far away that they were dots--too far away for him to make a count.
"I expect it was a hundred Indians at least, from all these tracks," Neely Dickens said, unnerved by the thought that there might be a massive army of Indians nearby.
"I can see them, you fool--there's not more than twenty," Augustus said. "And some of them are probably captives." "I ain't a fool and don't you be cussing me just because you got made a captain," Neely replied. His pride was easily wounded; when insulted he was apt to respond with a flurry of fisticuffso.
To Augustus's annoyance Neely looked as if he might be about to flare into the fistfight mode, even though they were in a chancy situation, with major decisions to be made.
"Well, you gave a high count, I'm sorry I bruised your feelings," Gus said. He realized that he had to watch his comments, now that he had risen in rank. In the old days a man who didn't appreciate his remarks could take a swing at him--several had--but now that he was a captain, a man who tried to give him a licking might have to be court-martialed, or even hung.
Though Neely's fistfights were ridiculous-- Neely was small and had never whipped anybody --Augustus thought it behooved him to be tolerant in the present situation; there were larger issues to be decided than whether Neely Dickens was a fool.
Call was glad Gus had made amends to Neely--it wouldn't do to have a big silly dispute, with Indians in sight.
"What do we do, Woodrow?" Long Bill asked. "Do we chase the rascals or do we let 'em go?" The minute he spoke Long Bill wondered if he had done wrong to call Woodrow by his first name. He had known Call for years and always called him merely by his name, but now Woodrow was a captain and Gus too. Was he expected to address both of them as "Captain"his He felt so uncertain that merely speaking to either one of them made him nervous.
"I doubt this boy was the only captive," Call said. "It's a large party. They might have his sisters and brothers, if he had any, or even his mother." "They probably stole a few horses, too," Augustus said. "I say we go after them." Call saw that Deets already had the dead boy's grave half dug. Deets had been given a sidearm, but no rifle, when they left Austin. An old pistol with a chipped sight was all he had to defend himself with--it was something Call meant to remedy, once they got home.
"Should we take all the boys, or just the best fighters?" he asked Augustus. That was the most worrisome question, in his view.
"I guess take 'em all," Gus said.
He was well aware that the men's fighting abilities varied greatly; still, it was a large party of Indians: the rangers ought to attack with a respectable force.
Call wasn't so sure. Half the men, at least, would just be in the way, in a running battle.
But the complexities
He knelt by the dead boy and felt again the weariness that the sight of such quick, casual death raised in him. The boy was barefoot, and so skinny that it seemed he had never had a filling meal in his life; probably he hadn't. The likelihood was that he had been snatched off some poor farm off one of the several branches of the Brazos, the river that tempted settlement most, due to the fertility of its long, lightly wooded valleys.
When the troop came in sight and saw that Call was dismounted, the rangers spurred up and sped to him, only to stop and stare in silence at the dead boy, the thin line of blood from his broken skull streaking the gray grass.
"Lord, he was just a young 'un," Long Bill said.
"I just missed the raiding party," Call said.
"I doubt they're five miles ahead." Augustus, whose keen vision was his pride, looked far north and saw the raiding party--they were so far away that they were dots--too far away for him to make a count.
"I expect it was a hundred Indians at least, from all these tracks," Neely Dickens said, unnerved by the thought that there might be a massive army of Indians nearby.
"I can see them, you fool--there's not more than twenty," Augustus said. "And some of them are probably captives." "I ain't a fool and don't you be cussing me just because you got made a captain," Neely replied. His pride was easily wounded; when insulted he was apt to respond with a flurry of fisticuffso.
To Augustus's annoyance Neely looked as if he might be about to flare into the fistfight mode, even though they were in a chancy situation, with major decisions to be made.
"Well, you gave a high count, I'm sorry I bruised your feelings," Gus said. He realized that he had to watch his comments, now that he had risen in rank. In the old days a man who didn't appreciate his remarks could take a swing at him--several had--but now that he was a captain, a man who tried to give him a licking might have to be court-martialed, or even hung.
Though Neely's fistfights were ridiculous-- Neely was small and had never whipped anybody --Augustus thought it behooved him to be tolerant in the present situation; there were larger issues to be decided than whether Neely Dickens was a fool.
Call was glad Gus had made amends to Neely--it wouldn't do to have a big silly dispute, with Indians in sight.
"What do we do, Woodrow?" Long Bill asked. "Do we chase the rascals or do we let 'em go?" The minute he spoke Long Bill wondered if he had done wrong to call Woodrow by his first name. He had known Call for years and always called him merely by his name, but now Woodrow was a captain and Gus too. Was he expected to address both of them as "Captain"his He felt so uncertain that merely speaking to either one of them made him nervous.
"I doubt this boy was the only captive," Call said. "It's a large party. They might have his sisters and brothers, if he had any, or even his mother." "They probably stole a few horses, too," Augustus said. "I say we go after them." Call saw that Deets already had the dead boy's grave half dug. Deets had been given a sidearm, but no rifle, when they left Austin. An old pistol with a chipped sight was all he had to defend himself with--it was something Call meant to remedy, once they got home.
"Should we take all the boys, or just the best fighters?" he asked Augustus. That was the most worrisome question, in his view.
"I guess take 'em all," Gus said.
He was well aware that the men's fighting abilities varied greatly; still, it was a large party of Indians: the rangers ought to attack with a respectable force.
Call wasn't so sure. Half the men, at least, would just be in the way, in a running battle.
But the complexities
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