Slocum 421 by Jake Logan Read Free Book Online

horses were poor from eating only willows. It was the Indians Achilles heel in the north country. Their horses, in a bad winter, almost starved. Some did, and the ones that survived had to have six weeks of grass to even recover. The southern tribes, like the Comanche, didn’t have that handicap, with open grasslands for their horses to graze all winter.
    One snowy day, an entire tribe came and pitched camp nearby. It was snowing slantways, and the north wind was cutting through hard. Slocum told everyone to stay with his gun. They had a stout sidewall tent for their meals, and two stoves.
    A chief came and talked peace and how he wanted to trade more hides for whiskey. The tent soon was full of tribesmen, women, and children, plus Slocum’s men.
    Murty went to cooking on top of the metal stove all the buffalo meat she had on hand.
    Some of the men ran outside and took an axe to a frozen carcass that they’d dragged in to get her more meat. Soon some of the Indian women began to help her.
    She showed them how to pound thawed meat slices tender with her special hammer, then flour them and fry them in boiling lard. The results, passed around to the men, made even the Indians grin. She also made bear tracks in another fry pan of hot melted lard. Cooled some, she broke them in half and fed them to the delighted children. It took two hours to fill everyone. The Indians went back to their tepees when the women got them set up. Slocum never knew how they did it in the howling wind, but he knew from experience that Indian women were as strong as most men.
    Escatar spoke to him when the Indians had left, about how many guards should be posted.
    â€œThree? What do you think? They act friendly, but that can change like the wind.”
    Slocum’s man agreed. “Where will you sleep?”
    â€œIn her wagon, if you need me.”
    He nodded. “They were damn sure hungry for her fried meat.”
    â€œIt was a treat, like the bear tracks.”
    â€œYes. But it will be a long night.”
    Slocum agreed. He and “Giggly” were soon in their cocoon of blankets to get ready to sleep.
    â€œI am so damn tired from cooking and cooking I don’t think I could do much for you.”
    â€œSleep. You did extra well. I can wait.”
    â€œGood.” She snuggled over on her side with her butt to him, and he curled around her. The first time in nine months they had missed having sex. Whenever they would get into bed, she was ready and nothing stopped them, cycle or whatever. But he had to agree he wouldn’t miss it this night with all those Indians so close around them and him thinking about all the danger they might pose, even though there were women and children with them. He slept on edge that night.
    Before they left the next day, the Indians had traded thirty hides for ten jugs of whiskey. Stowe’s plan worked well. They had also traded hides and other furs for many blankets. Whatever they did with the whiskey was their business, but it would be a hell of a drunk.
    The weather let up, and Slocum and his men went back to shooting buffalo. He felt good about their results, and the trading had gone even better than he’d expected, the woodcutters had brought in a new supply that was stacked high—things were going too good to suit him. He wanted his witch back out there on her peach stick. But the frost, even in the sandy ground, had the Spaniards’ gold locked up. He felt there might be as many as two more boxes. The Spaniards must have hid the treasure in various locations so that if treasure hunters found one, the others would still be concealed. Plus the boy who supposedly escaped the massacre and came back years later said, according to rumor, that he could not find any of the chests. But no total on the number was ever spoken.
    There was now a large fortune in the false bed of her wagon. But it was a long way from being counted as a windfall. Spring came slow, and the two