Shootout at the Spring
Episode Ten
“Where are you headed, Mr. Linwood?”
“Down in the valley near Elk Springs. There’s a growing number of settlers in the area around the springs, and they’ve asked for a preacher. I’m on my way there to start a church.”
“What faith are you, Parson Linwood?”
“Faith in Jesus. We’re going to teach and live by the Word, not by some creed or tradition.”
“How far to the springs, do you know?”
“Bout a day from here, I think.”
The preacher looked up and grinned, “I see Lucy is still with us. Sometimes, that jenny wanders off. She’s carrying my earthly possessions as well as something more precious than gold.”
“And what might that be?” Chad asked, looking at the donkey at the same time.
“The Word, Marshal, the Word. She’s got five new Bibles in that pack.”
“Oh, interesting. Do you think you feel well enough to ride? I want to escort you to the springs you spoke of and then go round up the man who robbed you. I may be able to catch him before he spends your money.”
“I can make it okay, Marshal Pennington; you go catch that evil man for me.”
“I don’t think so, Parson; you might have a concussion or other injury. It looks like Lance hit you pretty hard. I’ll just tag along until I’ve got you in someone else’s hands. Let’s mount up and see how you do.”
Two hours later, they began to break through into easier ground that slowly descended out of the rough rocks and timber. In the distance, Chad thought he could see the sun reflecting off a stream flowing south. There were a few cottonwoods and evergreens scattered along its bank, but all around it, the prairie grass waved gently in a soft breeze. The sky turned blue, and here and there, the white clouds moved along with the breeze, following the course of the stream.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” the preacher asked.
“Yes, Dakota is a beautiful land, and soon, the rest of the world will find out and come here and spoil it.”
“You’re not in favor of settlers, then, Marshal?”
“I guess it’s selfish to want to keep it like it is, unspoiled. But that’s how progress goes.”
“It will make fine farms and ranches. A good land to raise a family and carry on God’s work.”
“You’re right, but what about the Sioux? What will they do? Aren’t they a part of God’s work?”
“The Sioux and all other Indians are heathen, Marshal. It is our God-mandated charge to teach them the truth and change their savage ways.”
“Would it surprise you, Parson, to know that they consider us savages?”
“Hmmph.”
“They have a high moral code, actually. The white man would do well to be as honorable.”
“Are you an Indian lover, Marshal?”
“I’m a human lover, Parson. Sorta like God, in that respect, I think.”
The preacher did not reply, but it was obvious he was thinking over what the marshal had said.
The pair made their way down the low mountain and into the hilly grassland. The preacher pointed to the right and moved his horse onto a northwest course. The land ahead of them rolled and flattened only to roll again. The stream grew ever nearer. It was not large, but it manifested a certain beauty as it twisted and turned, falling from hill to hill and then running across the flat places. Far in the distance, purple shades of mountains loomed above the prairie floor.
Twice they encountered herds of deer that barely scattered ahead of them. Down to the left along the stream bank was a small herd of buffalo on their way to the bottom of the large valley and the deepest grass. Although they did not see them, both men were aware that coyotes and wolves were not too far away. Late summer flowers still bloomed here and there on the southern slopes, blues and yellows among the greenery. Winter was approaching, but for the moment, time on the prairie was stuck in early fall.
“It’s like paradise,” the preacher said.
“Wait till winter, Parson. You’ll have another name for it.”
“It’s in a valley; surely it can’t be that bad.”
“I’ll try to visit you next spring and see how that works out. Do you want to stop and see if we can scare up something to eat? We could ease on down to the stream and see if there are any fish in it. My canteen needs refilling anyway.”
“Suits me; my breakfast was a long time ago.”
“Mine too.”
Chad allowed Buck to drink his fill and then tied him to a small sapling and removed the saddle. Using the saddle blanket, he rubbed him down, removing the morning’s sweat and dust. He hung the blanket over a limb to dry. Chad rummaged through his possibles bag and produced the small packet containing fishing line, bits of lead, a cork, and hooks.
He walked out to the edge of the water, selected a young sapling about six feet tall, and cut it off at the ground. The small limbs he stripped with his knife and hands, and then he tied the fishing line to the limber end, added a hook and lead, and went looking for bait. He flipped a waterlogged limb over and quickly grabbed two white grubs, making a slow getaway. One of them went on the hook, and the other he lay on a large stone next to the log.
The grub lasted all of ten seconds once it hit the stream. Chad almost lost the pole; the strike of the fish was so vicious. The swift water had made the fish strong, and it fought hard against the limber pole. Chad had to follow it thirty feet downstream before he could bring it under control. It was a nice walleye, and he quickly ended its thrashing. He looked up on the bank to see if the preacher had a fire going, but the man was just standing there watching him.
“That was something, Marshal. Do you mind if I give it a try? I haven’t been able to fish in years. I forgot what it was like, but seeing you fight that fish, I’ve just got to try it again.”
Chad laughed, “Sure, there’s another grub on that rock. I’ll start us a cooking fire.”
Almost as quickly as Chad’s attempt, the preacher hooked a fish. It was not as large as Chad’s, but it put up a good fight. The preacher was so excited he began to laugh like a youngster as he made his way up the bank. The fish were quickly dressed and placed on sticks near the flames. Both men watched them cook, their minds resting for a minute in the quiet solitude of the place.
The silence was interrupted by a voice: “Hau.”
Chad spun around, his pistol halfway out of the holster. Standing just out from the trees a few yards sat two young braves astride small ponies. Another horse was tied behind them. They were both armed with bows, but neither held their weapons in an aggressive manner.
Chad stood up and raised his hand in greeting, “Hau.”
“You see tatanka?” the same brave asked.
Chad pointed downstream, “One, two-hour ride.”
“You eat fish?”
“Yes. You like?”
“Trade tatanka.”
“Deal. We saw a small white buffalo among the herd.”
“Tatanka Ska?”
Two large fish pieces were handed to the braves, who, in turn, handed some buffalo jerky to Chad. The Indians waved and quickly heeled their ponies to the south, eating the fish as they rode. Chad looked at the preacher. His face was drained of color, and his eyes were wide open like it was Christmas morning. It was some time before he could speak, and when he did, his voice was trembling.
“I thought we were goners, Marshal, I sure did. My heart jumped right out of my chest, and I couldn’t breathe a breath.”
“If they were hostile, we would never have heard ‘Hau,’ preacher. The first sign of their presence would have been arrows through our hearts.”
“But, I thought…”
“Hostile actions from Indians are usually caused by some wrong done them. They do get even or more than even if bothered. We didn’t bother them. They wanted something, we had it, so a trade was made. That’s the usual meeting. If you don’t start something, there will not usually be something. Got it?”
“I’ll remember that, Marshal. You want the fish or the jerky?”
“I’ll take half of each.”
“What kind of Indians were those?”
“Lakota Sioux. Hau is their word for hello and Tatanka is their word for buffalo. A white buffalo is very sacred to them. If they can catch it, they will take it back to their village alive.”
Within the hour, the small party of marshal and preacher was moving up the small stream at a steady trot. Chad kept his eye on Lucy, but she seemed to be as tough as or maybe tougher than the two horses. He dropped back so that he could speak easier to his companion.
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