Talon & Chantry 07 - North To The Rails (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page A

away.
    Suddenly they topped the low rise and he was looking into a shallow place that sloped away with increasing steepness toward the river, but Chantry did not see that. All he saw was the man staked out before him. He dismounted and took a step nearer.
    The man was stripped naked, hands and legs outspread, each ankle and each wrist tied to a stake. Already the sun had turned the white flesh a deep red in ugly burns, but burns could be as nothing to him, for he had been horribly mutilated.
    In each thigh there was a deep gash along the top of the muscle from the hip to the knee. His stomach had been cut open and piled full of rock. The sides of his face were cut, and the muscles of his biceps. For a frozen moment Tom Chantry stared, shocked motionless, and then, of a sudden, his horse shied violently.
    Turning sharply, he saw himself facing half a dozen Indians. He saw them, saw their hands still bloody from the deed before them, and realized his rifle was in its scabbard on the saddle. It was no more than six feet away, but it might have been as many miles. If he made a move toward it, they could kill him. Would they?
    Before him was the evidence. They had killed this man. No doubt he had fought them, no doubt he was an enemy taken in battle. As for himself, if he was to survive he must face them down. He spoke suddenly, keeping his tone moderate.
    “This was not a good thing to do,” he said, speaking carefully. “One man could do you no harm.”
    One of the Indians spoke, surprisingly, in English. “He do nothing to us. We find track. We follow. We kill.”
    “Why?”
    The Indian appeared to think the question foolish. He replied simply, “Why not?”
    “Go. I will bury him.”
    “All right.” The Indian said something to the others and they chuckled. “All right. You bury. Only him not dead yet.” Then admiringly, “He strong man. He no cry, no beg. He laugh, he swear. Strong man.”
    What was he saying? The tortured man was not dead.
    “I will bury him,” he repeated. “You go.”
    “We watch,” the Indian replied. Then he said, “You strong like him?”
    “Go,” he said, fighting down the horror and the fear that crept up within him. “Go.” And surprisingly, they went.
    He stood for a moment, staring after them, not willing to accept what his eyes told him. Then from behind him there was a shuddering groan. Chantry turned sharply.
    The tortured man said, “If you got any water, I’d like it.”
    The tone was calm, controlled.
    “You—you’re
alive?
”
    “It ain’t for long. You git me that water and I’ll be obliged.”
    Chantry turned swiftly to his horse and the canteen on the saddle horn. Kneeling beside the man, he held it to his lips. Feverishly, the man drank. For a moment he lay quiet and then he said, “I reckon that’s the best thing I ever tasted.”
    “I’ll untie you. I’ll—”
    “No! Don’t you pay it no mind.” The eyes opened and looked at him calmly. “I’m dead, man, can’t you
see?
” And then he added, “I beat ’em! I beat those red devils at their own game! I never whimpered!
    “You tell ’em that at the fort!” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “You tell ’em McGuinness never whimpered! Tell ’em that!”
    “The chuck wagon is coming,” Chantry said. “We have medicine, we—”
    “Don’t be a damn fool,” the man said. “You tell ’em at the fort. You tell ’em—”
    His voice faded away and his eyes suddenly were still. Chantry straightened to his feet. The man was dead…
    Chapter 6
----
    I S HE GONE?”
 
    Chantry faced sharply around. French Williams, Dutch Akin, Gent, Helvie, and Koch were on the rise behind him. All carried rifles.
    “How could he be alive?”
    “There wasn’t much give in him,” Hay Gent commented. “A man like that might live through anything.”
    “Ride to the wagon, Dutch,” Williams said, “and bring up a shovel. We’ll do the honors.”
    He glanced at Helvie. “You want to say the words? Or