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"You did what? Congratulations, Snake, that's the
best news I've heard in months." You would have thought I had been elected
to office, the way they carried on.
It was the first time I had ever been cheered for
being fired.
I had ridden up to Kirbyville to try to find out more
about the man who had sent them on this wild goose chase. When they heard I was
all done at Drisco's, they all but carried me on their shoulders. Standing very
upright in his run-down homespun, Noah Cross had a look of joy and relief on his
face. He must have still had a slim doubt about me until now.
The women insisted this occasion called for a feast,
and they set about putting together large helpings of whatever was at hand.
There were biscuits and honey, a fish fry, a deer shoulder roasting, and on a
spit over an open fire there were a dozen quail roasting. I wondered that they
would use a charge of shot on such small birds, and then I saw the answer. Three
lads were walking in with three more quail, and one of them was holding a
Flobert rifle. This was originally meant for shooting targets in the parlor, but
the tiny bullet was strengthened a bit and was one of the first .22's. The boys
must have been taking turns with the rifle, for each held his own headshot
quail. A prouder trio you never saw. It helps a boy to grow up straight and true
when he can assist in feeding his family.
The repast was delicious. I never seem to get my fill
of venison, and this was so tender I thought it might melt in my mouth. And the
biscuits, well, there may be men out there that can eat as many as I can, but
not many of them could eat any more. I've had them cooked in the coals, and in a
frying pan as well as baked in a regular oven, and I loved them all. They are
the outdoorsman's staple, along with the ever-present beans.
When the main course was over, the women served up
four mock apple pies. I swear you couldn't tell the difference between these and
pies baked with real apples. A good cook can make common crackers do everything
but dance.
Young Adam was the one that made the comment, "We
ought to have a hoe down," and the spontaneous party grew legs. Turned out
we had two fiddles, a harmonica, a mandolin and a concertina in this band of
settlers. Plus a couple of men that played bass jugs. As darkness settled down,
the fires were stirred up, and the dancing began. I said before that the town
started at the burial, but this night of music was where community spirit really
set in.
The impromptu band played traditional songs like,
"Turkey in the Straw," "Hole in the Bucket," and that song
made popular in the California gold rush, "Oh, Susanna."
Music from Europe was still played, songs like
"Cockles and Mussels." A song very much in vogue because of the
current construction was, "I Been Working on the Railroad." A lot of
the folks were from the southern states, and they kept breaking into
"Dixieland." Naturally the northerners answered with "Yankee
Doodle," which came from the revolution.
Most everybody jumped into the dancing circle, but
Noah Cross caught my eye, and we stepped out to hold a conference.
"You think we ought to post a guard?" he
asked me.
"Well, how about you and I take turns walking
outside the firelight? No need to put everyone on edge. We can just do it, and
no one will be the wiser."
I took the first watch, and I wasn't surprised when
nothing stirred. I hadn't really thought it would. This group of movers was
ignored by most except when they encroached on their land. When Noah came out to
spell me he was grinning widely.
"Snake, you better watch your step. Laura Smith
is setting her cap tonight."
"Who?" I vaguely remembered one family's
name was Smith, but had no recollection of any Laura.
"You know, Laura Smith. She's seventeen and
pretty as a picture."
"You don't mean the one with pigtails and a
flannel shirt, do you?" I could see no attraction from that area.
"Trust me, boy, she ain't wearing a flannel shirt
tonight. She's got herself a dress, and she's got her hair down. She's shopping
for a husband, hard."
"Then have at it, Noah. Sounds like she was made
for you."
"She's too close to Adam's age, or, believe me, I
would. The boy would probably be jealous or something."
"He's a good boy. He'd understand."
"Maybe. But he needs a mother, not a
sister."
I walked in to see the dancers, and the first one I
met was Laura. I wondered if Noah had set me up. One thing was for sure; he
hadn't lied when he said she was pretty. Funny I hadn't noticed it before. Maybe
it had something to do with the way her party dress was cut, or perhaps it was
the way her cheeks were now full of color.
I never felt sorry for the deer in my sights before
until I felt her gaze upon me. I almost spun and ran off, but I held my ground
and greeted her politely.
"Good evening, Miss Smith. You are very lovely
this evening."
"Why, thank you, Sir," she responded, and
then she giggled. "My name's Laura, and you know it. If I change my name it
won't be the first one. Ain't you going to ask me to dance?"
I swear I heard a warning buzzer in my head. I was
able to override it.
"I'm not much of a dancer, Laura. I might step on
your feet."
"I'll just have to chance it, " she smiled
as she took my arm and led me into the circle. The song was a waltz, and she
seemed to lean against me as if she was unsure of her balance. By the time the
tune was over I was certainly unsure of mine. I would soon find out that Laura
was full of surprises.
"My feet hurt, Snake. May we go set down?" I
said sure, not even noticing the 'we' she had slipped in.
I thought we would sit with the watchers at the edge
of the circle, but Laura whisked me right on by. "We have a bench right
outside our wagon. Let's go over there."
She nearly pushed me down and before I knew it her
lips were on mine. This was pleasant, to be sure, for a few minutes, but I
didn't want to spend the rest of my life thus engaged, so I said as if just
remembering, "Oh, I forgot Noah. We're taking turns guarding the
camp."
This made her mad. "Fine. Send him over,
then."
Before I made my escape there were footsteps and her
mother appeared. "Oh, excuse me, Snake, Laura, I didn't know you young
people were out here."
Yeah, right. And I didn't know what end of my pistol
to load, either. Looked like I had made my play just in time. To top it off her
father now appeared. His demeanor surprised me.
"Now Ma, you leave these younguns alone. Laura
needs a husband, and they might be hard to come by out here." So I was
what, eligible because I could breathe?
"But Pa, we don't want no shotgun wedding."
A shiver went up my spine.
"Why not? Worked for us, didn't it?" I
couldn't help it; I broke into peals of laughter. The rest were a little slow on
the pick up, but soon they were all laughing so hard that tears streamed down
their faces. The mother tried to regain some pose of dignity.
"Now, Pa, you... you... ha, ha, ha, ha... "
and she was off again. I swear my sides hurt when we came back to silence. One
thing about it, I was out of danger. For a while, anyway.
We walked back to the circle and found everyone taking
a break. One of the young boys hollered, "Let's sing," and we sat on
the edge of the circle and sang old favorites in uncertain degrees of harmony.
What skill we lacked we made up for in enthusiasm. The gospel songs like
"Amazing Grace” were especially beautiful, and soon the folks were
talking of putting up a church. Like I mentioned, on this night the town of
Kirbyville really made headway.
A young man with a surprisingly good tenor stood up
and sang, "Danny Boy." First he was solo, then the rest of the people
fell in, and it sounded as good as any choir I had ever listened to. I felt a
presence beside me and found the lure of the music had drawn Noah in to the
circle as well. I was going to get up and spell him, but the music had me in its
grasp, and I stayed put. It could have been my last mistake.
It slowly dawned on me that we had company. Standing
back of the circle, standing right in back of me, as a matter of fact, were
three Indians that I took to be Navajo. They did not look happy.
I slowly rose and made the universal peace sign. There
was no response.
"You speak English?" I asked, but once again
got no reply. One of the braves made a comment to another in a guttural sounding
language. A language that sounds sinister if you don't know it. The leader
looked me in the eye as if sizing me up. Somehow I knew that he understood my
questions and was just waiting to see what I would do. So with a swing of my arm
I motioned him to come over and have something to eat. He did not, but a slight
nod of his head told me he appreciated the gesture. Finally he made up his mind.
"We coming looking for man that shot our
brave," the leading Indian said.
I chose my words carefully. "I am sorry to hear
of your loss. We had not heard of it. It is a tragic thing."
He held out his hand, and in it were two empty 32-20
cases. I looked and nodded, then pointer toward the fresh graves. "Same man
kill these people."
The warrior looked, then walked up to the markers and
inspected them. "Whole family."
I pointed to the grave of the girl. "She was only
thirteen."
"Evil man," he said. "You find
him?"
He caught me off guard. The sniper should be stopped;
that much was for certain. I had not considered trying it myself, because I was
not a lawman, and I figured it was the law's business. Then I looked at the
graves and knew that the law was too far away. Whatever justice there was to be
had to come from one of us, and I was the logical one to do the job. I was a
self-proclaimed gunfighter, although I was having second thoughts about that.
And I was alone out here. I had no immediate family to take care of.
"Yes, Sir, I will find him."
"Good." Then with the only smile I ever saw
him crack, the head Indian turned to his friends and said, "See, me
Sir." They all grinned like it was the best joke they had ever heard.
And then they vanished without a sound.
Noah was the first to speak. "Why should anybody
shoot a poor Indian?"
"Simple," I said, "Someone wants to
start a war.”
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