Read Online Gabriel's Story by David Anthony Durham - Free Book Online

an elevated platform just high enough that he could see into the crowd, which grew considerably around and behind the boys as the morning’s market prepared to begin. He was a small man, long-nosed and balding. He spoke in quick staccato rhythms, his voice a bird that darted with his eyes, reaching back into the audience and catching bids, promoting bids, creating them. Gabriel watched his mouth but could make nothing of the words shaped there. He watched the horses that sold fastest or for the highest price, trying to formulate in his own mind the features that distinguished some from the rest. Several times he deigned to answer James’s questions, showing him with a frown the importance of his concentration. Before long, all but three horses were sold. These remainders looked no sorrier than the rest, but for some reason that escaped the boy, these were returned to their masters.
    â€œYou got an eye for horses?” Gabriel asked his friend.
    James shook his head. “I know you’re supposed to check that they have good teeth, like they used to do slaves.”
    As a new set of horses entered the ring, Gabriel noticed a commotion on the platform. A man had climbed up there and was speaking in animated words with the auctioneer and his assistants. They seemed to know him, were half amused but also wished him to get down. He would not do so, and only grew more passionate in his entreaties. The auctioneer eventually shook his head and grabbed himself a seat, resigning his post for a moment.
    The new man smiled heartily at this and took himself out to the edge of the small podium and to the attention of the waiting crowd. He was a tall man, in stature and shape similar to Solomon, except that he stood straight-backed and moved with confidence in himself and his place in the world. He had long arms that stretched beyond the reach of his jacket’s sleeves, leaving his pale wrists exposed. His clothing was the usual muted browns, his face well tanned and weathered, but these colors sat strangely on him, as his hair was so blond as to approach white, his eyebrows even more so, and his smile likewise flashed bright in the sunlight.
    But it wasn’t until the man began speaking that Gabriel recognized him as the cowboy he’d seen the week before, with the herd of cattle back at the homestead. The man introduced himself as Marshall Alexander Hogg, the Marshall being a name only and in no way an indication of profession, the Alexander being his father’s notion of a warrior prototype, and Hogg being traditionally Scottish and in no way a suggestion of his character. He spoke in polite and eloquent language edged with humor and somehow slyly common, as if he liked to dazzle the crowd with a certain amount of lyricism but was careful to remind them that he came from the likes of them and was no more or less than a kinsman. He explained his need to speak on behalf of the fine horses the audience could clearly see being led into the corral. He was sure this need not be said, but nevertheless he wished to warn prospective buyers that these were the finest horses likely to be sold in the state in the course of this year. He knew so because he had driven them up from Texas for the express purpose of supplementing the quality of horses in the wonderful state of Kansas.
    He went on to say that because of the sad fact that the horses could not demonstrate their full range of abilities in so limited a pen with so limited an amount of time, he wanted to highlight a few of their less obvious qualities. He directed everyone’s attention to a certain young bay. This horse, he assured the audience, was smart enough to herd cattle without either rider or instruction. He had a habit of doing just that, managing the herd all day and only calling it quits when his replacement showed up. Another specific horse, he claimed, had mastered several Indian dialects and could happily serve as a translator if the need arose.