Read Online Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Larry McMurtry
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Historical, Action & Adventure, Western Stories, Texas, Westerns, Cultural Heritage, Texas Rangers, Comanche Indians, McCrae; Augustus (Fictitious Character), Call; Woodrow (Fictitious Character)
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mornings. Shadrach came back while he was riding slowly around. Settling his horse gave the Major time to think, and time, also, to ease his head a little. He was prone to violent headaches, and had suffered one most of the night. But the sun was just rising. It looked to be a fine morning; his spirits improved and he decided to go on west. Turning back didn't jibe with his ambitions. If he found a clear route to El Paso, he might be made a colonel, or a general even.
"Let's go, boys--it's west," he said, riding back to the campfire. "We were sent to find a road, so let's go find it." The Rangers had survived a terrifying night. As soon as they mounted, warmed by the sun, many of them got sleepy and nodded in their saddles.
Gus's wounded hip was paining him. Walking wasn't easy, but riding was hard, too. His black nag had a stiff trot. He kept glancing across the sage flats, expecting to see Buffalo Hump rise up from behind a sage bush.
The scalp hunters, Kirker and Glanton, rode half a mile with the troop, and then turned their horses.
"Ain't you coming, boys?" Long Bill asked.
The scalp hunters didn't answer. Once the pack mules passed, they rode toward Mexico.
"There ain't many soldiers that know what they're doing, are there, Shad?" Bigfoot asked. "This major sure don't." "I doubt he's a major, or even a soldier," Shadrach said. "I expect he just stole a uniform." They were riding west through an area so dry that even the sage had almost played out.
Bigfoot suspected Shadrach was right.
Probably Major Chevallie had just stolen a uniform. Texas was the sort of place where people could simply name themselves something and then start being whatever they happened to name. Then they could start acquiring the skills of their new profession--or not acquiring them, as the case might be.
"Well, I ain't a soldier boy, neither," Shadrach said.
"Was you ever a soldier?" Bigfoot asked.
He was looking up at a crag, or a little hump of mountain, a few miles to the north. In the clear, dry air, he thought he saw a spot of white on the mountain, which was puzzling. What could be white on a mountain far west of the Pecos?
Shadrach ignored Bigfoot's question--he didn't answer questions about his past.
"See that white speck, up on that hill?" Bigfoot asked.
Shadrach looked, but saw nothing. Bigfoot was singular for the force of his vision, which was one reason he was sought after as a scout. He was not careful or meticulous--not by Shadrach's standards--but there was no denying that he could see a long way.
"I swear, I think it's mountain goat," Bigfoot said. "I never heard of mountain goat in Texas, but there it is, and it's white." He immediately forgot his vexation with the Major in his excitement at spotting what he was now sure must be a mountain goat--a creature he had heard of but never previously seen.
After a little more looking he thought he spotted a second goat, not far from the first one.
"Look, boys, it's mountain goats," he informed the startled Rangers, most of whom were straggling along, half asleep.
At Bigfoot's cry, excitement instantly flashed through the troop. Rangers with weak visions, such as one-eyed Johnny Carthage or little Rip Green, could barely see the mountain, much less the goats, but that didn't weaken their excitement.
Within a minute the whole troop was racing toward the humpy mountain, where the two goats, invisible to everyone but Bigfoot, were thought to be grazing. Only Matilda and Black Sam resisted the impulse to race wildly off. They continued at a steady pace. The old Comanche woman and the tongueless boy followed on a pack mule.
Gus and Call were racing along with the rest of the troop, their horses running flat out through the thin sage. Gus forgot the throb of his wounded hip in the excitement of the race.
"What do they think they're going to do, Sam, fly up that mountain?" Matilda asked. From the level plain the sides of the mountain where the goats were seemed far too steep
"Let's go, boys--it's west," he said, riding back to the campfire. "We were sent to find a road, so let's go find it." The Rangers had survived a terrifying night. As soon as they mounted, warmed by the sun, many of them got sleepy and nodded in their saddles.
Gus's wounded hip was paining him. Walking wasn't easy, but riding was hard, too. His black nag had a stiff trot. He kept glancing across the sage flats, expecting to see Buffalo Hump rise up from behind a sage bush.
The scalp hunters, Kirker and Glanton, rode half a mile with the troop, and then turned their horses.
"Ain't you coming, boys?" Long Bill asked.
The scalp hunters didn't answer. Once the pack mules passed, they rode toward Mexico.
"There ain't many soldiers that know what they're doing, are there, Shad?" Bigfoot asked. "This major sure don't." "I doubt he's a major, or even a soldier," Shadrach said. "I expect he just stole a uniform." They were riding west through an area so dry that even the sage had almost played out.
Bigfoot suspected Shadrach was right.
Probably Major Chevallie had just stolen a uniform. Texas was the sort of place where people could simply name themselves something and then start being whatever they happened to name. Then they could start acquiring the skills of their new profession--or not acquiring them, as the case might be.
"Well, I ain't a soldier boy, neither," Shadrach said.
"Was you ever a soldier?" Bigfoot asked.
He was looking up at a crag, or a little hump of mountain, a few miles to the north. In the clear, dry air, he thought he saw a spot of white on the mountain, which was puzzling. What could be white on a mountain far west of the Pecos?
Shadrach ignored Bigfoot's question--he didn't answer questions about his past.
"See that white speck, up on that hill?" Bigfoot asked.
Shadrach looked, but saw nothing. Bigfoot was singular for the force of his vision, which was one reason he was sought after as a scout. He was not careful or meticulous--not by Shadrach's standards--but there was no denying that he could see a long way.
"I swear, I think it's mountain goat," Bigfoot said. "I never heard of mountain goat in Texas, but there it is, and it's white." He immediately forgot his vexation with the Major in his excitement at spotting what he was now sure must be a mountain goat--a creature he had heard of but never previously seen.
After a little more looking he thought he spotted a second goat, not far from the first one.
"Look, boys, it's mountain goats," he informed the startled Rangers, most of whom were straggling along, half asleep.
At Bigfoot's cry, excitement instantly flashed through the troop. Rangers with weak visions, such as one-eyed Johnny Carthage or little Rip Green, could barely see the mountain, much less the goats, but that didn't weaken their excitement.
Within a minute the whole troop was racing toward the humpy mountain, where the two goats, invisible to everyone but Bigfoot, were thought to be grazing. Only Matilda and Black Sam resisted the impulse to race wildly off. They continued at a steady pace. The old Comanche woman and the tongueless boy followed on a pack mule.
Gus and Call were racing along with the rest of the troop, their horses running flat out through the thin sage. Gus forgot the throb of his wounded hip in the excitement of the race.
"What do they think they're going to do, Sam, fly up that mountain?" Matilda asked. From the level plain the sides of the mountain where the goats were seemed far too steep
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