Crow Creek Crossing Read Free Page A

then, he took a step back while still holding the rifle on the helpless boy, finding it difficult to kill one so young.
    Thinking he was doomed to die, the Cheyenne boy could do nothing but lie there with eyes wide with fear as Cole brought the Henry rifle to his shoulder and aimed it directly at his head. He could not, however, bring himself to take the boy’s life. He took another step back and ordered, “Get up! Get outta here!” He motioned toward the draw where the Indian ponies were tied. “Get goin’!”
    Hearing the white man’s commands, the boy’s two companions, also boys, ran toward the confrontation. Cole turned to face them and threw two quick shots near them in warning. He waved them on with his rifle.
    â€œGet on those ponies and get outta here,” he ordered.
    Their ambitious attempt to steal horses thwarted, they did as they were told, going by the white man’s motions and the tone of his voice, for they knew very little English. Finally realizing that their lives were to be spared, all three hurried up the dark draw.
    Wondering how he was going to explain to John why he let them get away when he clearly had the jump on them, he turned to go back to the wagon. He had taken no more than two steps when he felt the solid blow of an arrow in his back. The impact causedhim to stumble, but he quickly recovered and cranked three shots into the darkened draw. He had no way of telling if he had hit one of them or not, hearing only the tattoo of horses’ hooves on the hard floor of the draw.
    Cursing himself for a softhearted fool, he tried in vain to reach for the arrow shaft in his back. It felt as if it was embedded pretty deeply, and he could feel the back of his shirt slowly becoming wet with blood, but the pain was bearable.
    Maybe it ain’t too serious,
he thought hopefully, as he hurried back to the wagon. “It’s me, John,” he called out when he got back to the stream. “I’m comin’ in.”
    â€œCome on, then,” John replied. He walked a few steps from the front of the wagon to wait for him. “We heard the shootin’,” he said when Cole came up from the stream. “What happened?”
    â€œThey’re gone,” Cole said. “It was just some young boys tryin’ to steal horses.”
    â€œDid you hit any of ’em?” John pressed, eager to hear what had happened.
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. Like I said, they were just boys.”
    â€œWell, I hope they found out what it’ll cost ’em to come after our horses,” John allowed. “At least they didn’t cause no harm.”
    â€œThat ain’t exactly right,” Cole said, grimacing with the discomfort he was beginning to feel.” He turned then to show John the arrow embedded in his back.
    â€œMy Lord in heaven!” John exclaimed. “You got shot!”
    â€œI got careless,” Cole admitted.
    â€œMabel! Ann!” John blurted. “We need some help. Cole’s been shot!”
    Already climbing out of the back of the wagon, Ann almost fell the rest of the way when John yelled. Horrified when she saw the arrow shaft sticking out of Cole’s back, she ran to him. “Cole, honey,” she cried in distress, “what happened?”
    â€œI got careless,” he repeated, thinking it fairly obvious what had happened.
    Her tone became scolding then. “What are you doing walking around with that thing sticking out of you? Sit down so we can take care of you.” Wringing her hands as she watched him sit down on the ground, she looked to Mabel for help.
    Having just climbed down from the wagon herself, Mabel was as stunned as her sister had been. With her children now crowding around to gape at the arrow protruding from their uncle’s back, she recovered her calm and salvaged her role of authority.
    â€œElliot,” she directed, “go get that fire started again. Lucy, you