Dead Man's Walk Read Free Page A

annoyed.

Shadrach, the oldest Ranger, a tall, grizzled specimen with a cloudy past, walked over to the turtle's head and squatted down to study it. Shadrach rarely spoke, but he was by far the most accurate rifle shot in the troop.

He owned a fine Kentucky rifle, with a cherry wood stock, and was contemptuous of the bulky carbines most of the troop had adopted.

Shadrach found a little mesquite stick and held it in front of the turtle's head. The turtle's beak immediately snapped onto the stick, but the stick didn't break. Shadrach picked up the little stick with the turtle's head attached to it and dropped it in the pocket of his old black coat.

Josh Corn was astonished.

"Why would you keep a thing like that?" he asked Shadrach, but the old man took no interest in the question.

"Why would he keep a smelly old turtle's head?" Josh asked Bigfoot Wallace.

"Why would Gomez raid with Buffalo Hump?" Bigfoot asked. "That's a better question." Matilda, by this time, had hacked through the turtle shell with her hatchet and was cutting the turtle meat into strips. Watching her slice the green meat caused Long Bill Coleman to get the queasy feeling again. Young Call, though nicked by a rear hoof, had succeeded in cinching the saddle onto the Mexican mare.

Major Chevallie was sipping his ashy coffee. Already the new wind from the north had begun to cut. He hadn't been paying much attention to the half-drunken campfire palaver, but between one sip of coffee and the next, Bigfoot's question brought him out of his reverie.

"What did you say about Buffalo Hump?" he asked. "I wouldn't suppose that scoundrel is anywhere around." "Well, he might be," Bigfoot said.

"But what was that you said, just now?" the Major asked. "It's hard to concentrate, with Matilda cutting up this ugly turtle." "I had a dern dream," Bigfoot admitted. "In my dream Gomez was raiding with Buffalo Hump." "Nonsense, Gomez is Apache," the Major said.

Bigfoot didn't answer. He knew that Gomez was Apache, and that Apache didn't ride with Comanche--that was not the normal order of things. Still, he had dreamed what he dreamed. If Major Chevallie didn't enjoy hearing about it, he could sip his coffee and keep quiet.

The whole troop fell silent for a moment. Just hearing the names of the two terrible warriors was enough to make the Rangers reflect on the uncertainties of their calling, which were considerable.

"I don't like that part about the guts," Long Bill said. "I aim to keep my own guts inside me, if nobody minds." Shadrach was saddling his horse--he felt free to leave the troop at will, and his absences were apt to last a day or two.

"Shad, are you leaving?" Bigfoot asked.

"We're all leaving," Shadrach said.

"There's Indians to the north. I smell 'em." "I thought I still gave the orders around here," Major Chevallie said. "I don't know why you would have such a dream, Wallace. Why would those two devils raid together?" "I've dreamt prophecy before," Bigfoot said. "Shad's right about the Indians. I smell 'em too." "What's this--where are they?" Major Chevallie asked, just as the norther hit with its full force. There was a general scramble for guns and cover. Long Bill Coleman found the anxiety too much for his overburdened stomach.

He grabbed his rifle, but then had to bend and puke before he could seek cover.

The cold wind swirled white dust through the camp. Most of the Rangers had taken cover behind little hummocks of sand, or chaparral bushes.

Only Matilda was unaffected; she continued to lay strips of greenish turtle meat onto the campfire. The first cuts were already dripping and crackling.

Old Shadrach mounted and went galloping north, his long rifle across his saddle.

Bigfoot Wallace grabbed a rifle and vanished into the sage.

"What do we do with this mare, Gus?" Call asked. He had only been a Ranger six weeks--his one problem with the work was that it was almost impossible to get precise instructions in a time of crisis. Now he finally had