Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1944-03-17
CHAPTER VII

erS were separated from 1t by per-
haps three miles. On behind them he
found the white tops of the wagons.
But as he moved his gaze on slowly
around the sharp horizon there was
no sign of water nor the double
butte to set him on his course. His
moments gratefulness sank to
heavy dread. They had come too
far from the last watered camp.
The cattle couldn't go on. Another
day would bring its killing heat, for
clouds that followed dust storm
never held long.
He was staring east; he gave his
head sudden jerk to clear it. He
wiped one hand across his swollen
eyes. They weren't tricking- him.
AS if from the grass roots smoke
twisted upward over there. 1t rose
and shaped pillar, broke and rose
and broke again. Willy Nickle
sending up his talk!
He spurred his tired horse south.
Halfway toward the scattered col
umns he drew his gun again and
fired it. He pulled his horse around
into short fast circles.
They heard his shots that time
and saw his signal. Little figures of
men started out toward him. He
rode on and met John Quarternight
first. The old mans beard was mud
dy white, his eyes pulled almost
closed.
Boy" he said, 1--WE got here.
Wherever that be. There's some
ones camp, though, yonder."
"Willy Nickle, I think" Lew said.
I'm going to look. I'll leave you to
gather up"
The creek was still two miles off,
and before he reached it the smoke
ended. Riding into a little grove
of trees, he found only the embers,
no sign of Willy Nickle at first, I'M
til he saw the forked stick. 1t had
been thrust into the ground with one
prong like thumb pointing down.
stream. He followed in the sticks
direction.
Sheltered from wind and rain, a
snug retreat, Willy Nickle sat, con-
tentedly smoking his black clay pipe.
He threw up his left hand in silent
salute and dropped it. His gentle
face was brown and smooth from a
recent shave.
Lew grinned and shifted over into
one stirrup, hating. "Well," he
said, 1--WE had wind"
Willy nodded. $50 you did"
II guess" Lew said, 1--WE clean
missed the double butte. Came too
far north maybe. But here's a riv-
err"
South branch of the Pease," said
Willy. He took the cherry pipe
stem from his mouth and pointed
with it. 'If man heads out of
here quarterin' east of north he'll
hit creek of the Red He'll follow
that to the Red herself, ten miles
above Doan's store. Two days, may
be, if his men have made it,"
In three days they were still
crawling through low hills south of
the Red. Blindness healed slowly in
both animals and men. Three had
ridden in the cooks wagon Clay
and Steve rode with JOY They
both had bandages smeared with
axle grease over their eyes and sat
up with her on the seat.
He had queer feeling sometimes,
seeing them in a row like that.
When he dropped back along the
herd he could see their fun and hear
them laughing together. They sang
a lot. Old songs that he used to
with how -
Three Little Apaches; only it was
Clay's big shape there now instead
of his.
But today all of his crew were in
their saddles, eager to reach the
Red. That meant something. 1t
was halfway to Dodge. 1t was the
last of Texas soil. Beyond the Red
River lay the Indian Nations and
the north. Every trail drive marked
it with a celebration of some kind.
He rode the point with Quarter
night and could see old Rebel John
was feeling what he felt. A man
would never feel this lonesomeness
about leaving any place up north.
He was sure of that; not a Texas
man. There was Tom Arnold rid
ing back behind the horse herd
what must this crossing the Red
River mean to one like him? 1t
must 60 hard. He was leaving the
biggest part of his life down here,
the best part. What was Tom look
ing ahead to in Wyoming? Not
much, so far, if he was counting on
Steve. That had been his hope at
the start. Well, what was he look
ing ahead to himself? Nothing that
he could see. Not the ranch he'd
planned there on the Powder when
he had thought he was going
to build it up alone. You didn't pen
two bulls in the same pasture. Get