“Anyone who stands in the way of progress is apt to get hurt, Preacher,” Rupert injected. “Progress is the natural order of things.”
“That’s right,” Faith said. “We cannot stand still. We must go forward or we’ll stagnate.”
“Ain’t that a fact,” Preacher replied. “With no regard to whether it’s men, women, or kids.”
“It certainly doesn’t appear to me that that makes any difference to the savages,” Cornelia said. “They’ve been butchering women and children for years. Certainly you won’t argue that fact.”
Preacher shook his head. “No. I can’t argue with that. The Injuns earned the name of savages. I sure won’t be the one to deny that.”
“I can’t feel much sorrow for a people who won’t change for the better,” Gayle said.
“Nor can I,” Faith agreed, as the other women gathered around nodded their heads in agreement.
Preacher smiled at those statements, but held back the words he wanted to say. He drained his coffee cup and stood up. “Oh, ’fore you misunderstand, I don’t blame the white man for pushin’ west. Hell, I come west. And I understand what has happened and what is gonna happen. The Injun has just run out of time, that’s all. That’s been happenin’ to various folks since God picked up the clay and flung humans on this earth.” Preacher stood up and picked up his rifle and looked out over the terrain outside the small circle. He looked around at the small gathering of people in the waning moments of daylight.
“I ain’t no highfalutin’, fancy-talkin’ man from Washington,” Preacher said. “And they ain’t nobody gonna ask me nothin’, ’cause them nitwits back in Washington think they know the answer to everything. But here’s how I would do this settlin’ the west thing: First off, I’d put me together a whole bunch of soldier boys. Thousands of ’em…”
“At least a division,” Rupert said, his eyes shining with excitement at just the thought.
“Whatever,” Preacher said. “I’d have cannons, wagons, and troops that would stretch for fifty miles across the plains. They’d be flags a-wavin’, bands a-playin’, buglers a-tootin’, and drummers just a whackin’ away. It would be the grandest sight red or white had ever seen. I’d gather the chiefs, tribe by tribe, and invite them to sit down and talk. And they would. Once they seen that many fightin’ men, and seen the cannon boom and the rifles roar, they’d talk. Injuns is far from stupid. In their own way, they got more sense than them damn fools that claim to be runnin’ the country.” Preacher thought about that for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Anybody’s got more sense than them ninnies.
“Anyway, I’d tell the chiefs that the white folks are comin’. Then I’d show them pictures of the eastern cities and how many people there are back there. You’d have to do that slow; ’cause an Injun really don’t grasp a whole lot of numbers. But it could be done with patience. And that’s the trick, folks. Patience. And I ain’t puttin’ down the Injun when I say that. They’re just different from us, that’s all.
“Then I’d tell the chiefs that the white people who are comin’ through don’t want no trouble. They’re just gonna be travelin’ a few of the trails on their way west and doin’ some huntin’ for food along the way. Some of them are gonna be stayin’. But they ain’t gonna bother no one. And if they do, the government soldiers will come and punish them, just like the government soldiers will punish the Injuns if they bother the white settlers.
“Then I’d seal the borders from Canada down to the Gulf of Mexico. Nobody would move west across the Red River or the Missouri or the Mississippi without permission of the government. Now this wouldn’t be no sudden thing, folks. This would take years. Years of educatin’ the Injuns to the white man’s ways and of linin’ out boundaries as to who belongs to what. This is their land, people. There ain’t no markers or signposts or the like, but it’s theirs! And we ain’t got the right to come in here like lords and kings and push them off of it or get mad when they fight to keep what they consider to be theirs.
“Any promises made have to be kept. You can’t tell the Injuns one thing and then turn around and do the other. People, the plains Injuns’ life depends on the buffalo. Their whole bein’ revolves around the buffalo. Most of ’em are hunters, not farmers. The buffalo herds is their life and they’ve got to be kept strictly for them.”
Preacher paused and shook his head. “Ahh,” he said disgustedly. “Why am I flappin’ my mouth anyways? It ain’t gonna happen that way nohow. The white man is too impatient to give the red man time to get ready for the flood. They’re just gonna come bustin’ through here tearin’ up ever’thing and killin’ off the buffalo and callin’ ever’thing they do progress. And the Injuns will fight. What else can they do? I seen what our diseases have done to whole tribes already. Damn near wiped them out. I seen that with my own eyes. Pitiful sight.” He leaned up against a wagon wheel, cradling his Hawken.
The women looked at him, rugged and handsome, his face burned dark by the sun and the wind, standing there in his buckskins, a pensive look on his face—although Preacher wouldn’t have known what that word meant.
“Why don’t you go to Washington and make that speech to a joint gathering of the House and Senate?” Faith asked. “It was very eloquent.”
“’Cause them peckerwoods wouldn’t hear the real meanin’, Faith. They’d hear the words but they wouldn’t know what they meant. Oh, they’d pat their soft powdered hands together in applause, but it would all come to naught. Common man can’t tell a politician nothin’. You say good mornin’ to one and they’ll look out the window to see.”
Preacher walked off to make his rounds, muttering to himself about politicians.
“I am very hesitant to tell him that my father has been very active in politics for years and is thinking about running for governor back home,” Rupert said.
“Keep that knowledge to yourself,” Eudora told him. “Preacher might recall that apples don’t fall far from the tree and shoot you.”
3
Each day became as the day just past as the wagons rolled and rumbled westward. Preacher had left the trail that morning and had found a place that would be perfect for the wagons and the mules. It had plenty of concealment and good water and grazing a-plenty for no longer than he’d be gone. He had to leave the wagons and go on ahead to be sure that Steals Pony, Blackjack, and Snake had made it and were in place for their ambushing and holding up of Bedell and his men.
Their plans had been very loosely laid and discussed, subject to sudden change.
Preacher rode back to the wagons and halted the train. “Cut south here, Eudora. I found y’all a place to hide, rest up, and take baths and all that whilst I’m gone.”
Eudora nodded, lifted the reins, and called out to the leader mule. Preacher rode back to Rupert.
“I got to go, Rupert. Just as soon as I get the ladies settled in. You’re in charge.”
“I won’t fail you, Preacher.”
“I know it.” Preacher grinned at the young officer. “I seen the way Brigitte is a-battin’ them blues at you, boy. You bes’ be careful. She’s liable to snatch you under a wagon some dark night and show you somethin’ that’ll put a curl in your hair and pep in your step.”
Rupert blushed a deep crimson, from his neck to his forehead. Even his ears were red.
Preacher laughed and rode back to the head of the column. Getting to the place he’d found was tricky, for it wound through a short series of ravines and was protected on three sides by high broken bluffs.
“What a marvelous place!” Eudora exclaimed, when the valley suddenly sprang into view.
“And lookie yonder at that crick,” Preacher said, pointing. “Plenty of cover for you gals to bathe and hide from Rupert whilst you’re in the raw.”