ABACUS (12 page)

Chapter 18: Wagons Roll

Kate and AP had been traveling through hilly country for the last few hours and were at the bottom of a deep dip, with a huge hill in front of them like the one they had just walked down.

“I wonder why it's called the Bozeman Trail? All they've done is clear some rocks and bushes so wagons can pass.”

“It's not exactly busy either,” added Kate. “No sign of anyone all day.”

“I'm hot.”

“And thirsty,” said Kate. “There's nothing here but dust.”

“What time is it?”

She squinted up at the bright sun. “I'd guess late afternoon.”

“Let's keep going until dark.”

“I'd love to jump into that river again,” said Kate.

“We might find another one when we—”

“What was that noise?” Kate interrupted.

They both stood still, listening.

“I hear it,” said AP. “A creaking sound, coming from behind us.”

“I think it's a wagon!” said Kate eagerly.

Shading their eyes against the bright sky, they could see a dust cloud at the top of the hill.

As they watched, a covered wagon came into view. Several
more followed, until there were six of them.

Minutes later Kate and AP were bouncing along on the front seat of a wagon, wedged between the driver and his wife.

“Where'd you young people say you're from?”

“We're from out east,” AP replied, “Boston.”

Kate and AP had worked out their cover story during their long trek. They decided AP should do most of the talking as he sounded more convincing.

“You say your folks took sick an' had to get back home?” continued the driver.

“Yep,” said AP.

“My, that's a real shame,” said his wife. “'Specially with you an' your sister being so young an' all.”

“Seeing as how sis an' me weren't planning on giving up the West,” said AP, feeling his way into the role of settler, “we decided to stay behind and make a go of it on our own.”

“Good on ya, boy!” said the driver, slapping AP on the back so hard he nearly fell off the seat. “That's the spirit we need!”

“Now you're Kate, an' your brother's name's Aiy Peey,” said his wife.

“Yes, Ma'am,” said Kate.

“You can call us by our first names, you being kinda grown up an' all. This here's Zach and I'm Libby. Ma's in the back with our two little boys, Jacob and Luke. Real good kids they are.”

The screaming coming from behind made Kate doubt the last point.

“Where are you heading?” asked Zach.

“Nowhere in particular,” AP replied. “Just some place to get a good start. We plan on making a fortune, right sis?”

“Yep,” said Kate, wondering how much further he would push his acting role.

“Well they sure picked the right wagon train, eh Libby?”

His wife nodded and smiled.

“We're all planning on making a fortune,” said Zach. “That's why this here wagon train's heading straight for the Black Hills.”

“Black Hills?” Kate and AP gasped in unison, recalling how settlers had plundered the Indian's sacred place. But they bit their tongues and said nothing.

“There's gold in those hills from the grass roots down!” said Zach. “You just dig in your shovel an' out it comes.”

“We're going to be so rich!” sang Libby. “We'll buy a big swanky house, and a fancy new rig to drive around town.”

“How far away is it?” asked Kate, mostly to stop Libby's jabber.

“Maybe a hundred miles,” said Zach. “Should take us about a week.”

They called a halt well before sundown and drew the wagons into a circle. “Just in case any of them murdering injuns attack us in the night,” Zach explained. Then the horses were unhitched and left to graze.

“What can I do to help?” asked Kate as Libby began preparing supper.

“You can play with the boys. Ma's had 'em all day.”

Once everyone had finished supper and put their children to bed, they gathered ar
ound a campfire. Someone started playing a mouth organ.

They welcomed Kate and AP like family. When Zach explained their situation, they cheered in support.

“They're all so friendly,” Kate said to AP—everyone was too busy chatting to overhear their conversation. “When I heard they were going to the Black Hills I thought they must be the

most hateful people on earth. And there was the nasty comment about Indians. But they're nice people.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed AP.

“So why would they want to take things that belong to the Indians?”

“They don't see it that way, Kate. As Zach said at supper, the Indians have no interest in gold, so why not take it?”

“What are we going to do? They think we want to join in the gold rush.”

“I don't know. But it would be good to see Paha Sapa.”

* * *

Robert Drew had been furtively trailing the wagon train since the previous night. He could hardly believe his luck when it stopped to pick up the two children. But the odds had been in his favor—it was the only wagon train on the Bozeman Trial.

He could hear someone playing “Oh Susannah” on the mouth organ. The sounds of conversation had died down and people were settling in for the night. “Not long now,” he said to himself, “and I'll get my device back.”

Most folks took their blankets and slept inside the circle of wagons. Kate and AP preferred to sleep on the outside, where they could talk in private. Choosing a spot beside a sage bush, they unrolled their blankets and got comfortable. Too tired to talk for long, they drifted off to sleep.

AP stirred, vaguely aware of something brushing against his chest. The next instant a skeletal hand tore the abacus from his neck. He was awake instantly.

“Kate, wake up!” he cried, shaking her hard.

“What do you want? I'm asleep!”

“Somebody just took the abacus!”

Kate, now wide awake, was on her feet.

“Look, there he goes,” said AP, pointing. The retreating figure was silhouetted against the eastern sky, which was growing light. “Let's follow him.”

The intruder was limping and they were gaining on him. Then he disappeared into some bushes. Seconds later he charged out on a horse, heading toward the dawn. Slipping and sliding in the saddle, he was desperately clutching the reins.

“What are we going to do?” croaked AP in panic. “We can't get home without the abacus.”

“There's only one thing,” snapped Kate, taking control. “Let's grab a horse and go after him.”

Chapter 19: Tracking Trouble

Daylight, and they had been riding for two hours without seeing a trace of the phantom rider. “Talking Cloud would have no problem tracking him,” said AP, desperately searching the ground for clues. “We lost so much time having to find a horse and saddle up. All we can do is keep heading east and hope he's doing the same.”

By noon the situation had become serious. In their dash to get away, AP and Kate had grabbed only one water container. That was already half empty.

“We won't find water out here,” said Kate, looking around at the parched landscape. “Just cactus and sagebrush.” They were now walking, to give the horse a rest.

“Look,” said Kate, pointing into the distance. “Is that a horse between the tree and those bushes?”

“Yes!”

Even with the heat haze, Kate was convinced the horse was tethered, and that somebody was lying under the tree.

“Is it our guy?” AP sounded optimistic.

“Who else would be out here in the middle of nowhere?” She smiled. “I think he's taking a nap!”

“Let's circle way over there, to the other side of the bushes, so we can sneak up without him seeing us.”

“We'd better leave the horse here,” said Kate, “otherwise the two might start whinnying.”

AP and Kate crept silently through the scrub, toward a gap in the bushes. Sure enough, they had found the thief, fast asleep in the shade, with a hat covering his face. His horse stood nearby.

Kate pointed at his outstretched hand. “There's the abacus!” she whispered. “We could take it without even waking him.”

“I'll go,” whispered AP, and he slipped through the gap.

Tiptoeing forward as silently as a Sioux, he stopped beside the sleeping man. He was about to reach down for the abacus when he noticed that the cord was wrapped around the man's fingers. Picking up the abacus in one hand, AP unraveled the cord with the other. Then, just as it came free, the man stirred.

AP froze. As he crouched there, wondering if his pounding heart could be heard, the stranger settled down again.

Kate saw AP slowly stand and slip the abacus over his head. Then he crept toward the man's tethered horse.

“What is he doing?” Kate wondered. “If that horse starts whinnying, we're done!”

Seconds later AP was back, carrying two extra water bottles.

“You took his water!” she gasped.

“Yep.” Her brother grinned. “His horse was loaded with them.”

“Let's go,” said Kate as they climbed back into the saddle. “I want to get as far away from that guy as possible.”

“Where to?” asked AP, taking up the reins.

“Back to the wagon train,” said Kate. “We can tell them how we were robbed, which is why we borrowed the horse.”

“Do you know the way?”

Kate smiled. “After our training with Talking Cloud, it's easy.”

The cactuses were in flower, brightening the barren browns with their brilliant yellows. Kate felt a little threatened in the arid land of thornbush and tumbleweed, but AP thrilled to the challenge of surviving in such a desolate place.

They failed to reach the wagon train before sundown, and had to camp where they were. With nothing to eat and no blankets for warmth, it was a long cold night.

When AP awoke, Kate was already up. Rubbing his eyes, he stood beside her and watched the sun peek over the horizon.

“I've never been so pleased to see morning!” said Kate, stamping her feet to get warm. “Things will get better now.”

“The abacus is safe too,” said AP, patting his chest. “And we'll soon be back with the wagon train.”

As they stood there, AP suddenly realized somebody was behind them. Next thing they knew, they were thrown to the ground.

“Let me go,” Kate screamed, kicking and struggling.

AP grappled to grab an arm, hoping to apply a judo hold, but their attacker was far too strong.

Turning his head, AP came face to face with the largest and most terrifying Indian he had ever seen.

They expected to be scalped and were therefore surprised when their attacker—realizing they were harmless kids—let them go. They were even more astonished to hear him speak English.

He told them that his English name was Laughing Jack and that he worked as a scout for the Army. He was a Crow, and was on his way to the Yellowstone River, to join up with the cavalry.

“So, what are two young settlers doing in the middle of nowhere?”

“It's a long story,” said AP, and explained how they were robbed.

“This thin man of yours,” said Laughing Jack, “was he a bad rider?”

“Terrible. Why?”

Laughing Jack smiled. “Just before dark, a tall thin rider came crashing into my camp. I didn't like that.”

“What happened?” asked Kate.

“I took his horse.” He nodded toward the bushes, and they saw he had two.

“Where do you think he is now?” asked Kate.

“Probably with the wagon train—I camped close to them last night.” He paused. “So what are you going to do now?”

“We're not going back to the wagon train.” Kate was adamant. “We don't want to run into him again.”

“We'll have to avoid the Black Hills too,” reasoned AP. “With only one road, we'd be sure to run into him.”

“This is difficult country,” said Laughing Jack, glancing around. “There's no water unless you know where to find it, and you've no rifle for hunting. You'd both be dead in days.” He shook his head. “You'd better come with me.”

Chapter 20: Joining the Army

Kate and AP spent most of the next week in the saddle. Sometimes Laughing Jack rode alongside them, talking. More often he trotted ahead, which gave them ample time to discuss the mysterious thin man.

“That hooded man at the end of our medieval trip was tall and thin,” said AP. “This could be the same person.”

“But this guy walks with a limp.”

“He could have just injured himself.”

Kate nodded.

“The first one said we had something that belonged to him,” AP continued, “and the second guy grabbed the abacus from me. I think they are the same person.”

“If he owns the abacus, where did he get it?”

“Maybe he made it himself,” AP suggested.

“How come it turned up in a crate of things from Africa?”

“Who knows. The whole thing's a mystery.”

Kate and AP had done so much riding that they could enjoy the journey without becoming exhausted. Laughing Jack was a good hunter and they lived off the land. Despite his fearsome appearance, he was friendly and cheerful and true to his name. Feeling so much at ease, they decided to ask him about some things that had been puzzling them.

“Why are the Crow and Sioux such deadly enemies?” asked Kate one night after supper.

“Why not? The Cheyenne are enemies of the Pawnee. The Pawnee are enemies of the Arapaho. The Arapaho are enemies of the Shoshone…. The white man's the same. When I was young, the North went to war with the South.” He smiled. “What would we do without enemies to fight?”

Kate wondered how to raise the next question. “You work for the Army that's helping white settlers move onto Indian land.”

Laughing Jack nodded.

“And you help the Army fight other Indians. Is that hard for you?”

“Why should it be? The Army's fighting the Sioux and they're our enemy.”

“But the white people are the enemy of the Indians. We are destroying the old way of life.”

“I knew a long time ago that the old ways were over. Too many people want to live on the plains. I can't stop them.” He shrugged. “So what should I do? Live on a reservation and sometimes go hungry? Or work for the white man and always eat?”

* * *

Ever since their first night in Montana, AP had made a daily note on his piece of paper, so he always knew the date. “Guess what day it is tomorrow?” he asked Kate one night.

“Who cares?” she said, yawning. “I'm only interested in sleep.”

“Tomorrow is June 21, the longest day of the year.”

“So what?”

“Well, I think it's interesting. Especially since Laughing Jack says we'll be meeting up with the Army tomorrow.”

“He might be meeting up with the Army,” she whispered. “We're meeting up with a riverboat that'll take us east—well away from the action. Right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, turning over.

“AP, don't do this. We had a deal to go nowhere near the battleground. Remember?”

“Let's decide in the morning.”

“You can be such a pain,” she grumbled, and fell off to sleep.

* * *

They had been riding along a ridge most of the morning, giving them a broad vista of green valleys and tree-covered hills—Kate's kind of country. Laughing Jack had warned them of the spectacular view to come, but they were still unprepared when they rounded the next bend and caught their first glimpse of the Yellowstone River. Reining in their horses, they gazed down at a majestic river, lazily winding its way through a fertile valley dappled with trees.

“What's that over there?” asked Kate, pointing to what appeared to be a giant mushroom patch nestled in the widest bend of the river.

“That,” said the Crow shaking his head in disbelief, “is the largest Army campsite I have ever seen. Let's get down there.”

* * *

Soldiers in blue uniforms where busy everywhere—moving equipment, erecting storage tents, organizing supplies, and cleaning weapons. Kate and AP didn't stand out because there were other civilians there too. Most of them were wagon drivers, hauling supplies from the riverboats. There were also large numbers of Indian scouts. Some, like Laughing Jack, wore traditional dress, but many wore a mixture of Wasichu clothes.

AP noticed a pile of crates marked AMMUNITION in bold black letters.

Laughing Jack nodded toward a large tent where two Army sergeants were talking with a group of Crow scouts. “I've got to report in,” he said, slipping from the saddle. “I won't be long. Have a look around while you're waiting.”

Anyone watching Kate and AP dismount would have thought they were raised in the saddle. Tethering their horses alongside Laughing Jack's, they set off along the track they had been riding on. A group of soldiers passed by, walking in the opposite direction.

“I thought the soldiers would be all polished boots and shiny buttons,” said AP. “But they're scruffy—even the officers.”

“You can't stay neat and tidy out here. Look at us! I feel so gross.”

“It's not just their wrinkled uniforms and crumpled hats—they just slouch along. Aren't soldiers supposed to march along with their shoulders back and chins up?

“You mean the way you do?” Kate asked sarcastically.

“I'm not in the Army.”

“How long are we going to hang around here before we find that steamboat?”

“What's your rush?”

“I want to avoid the battle. We made a deal.”

“We will avoid the battle. It takes place on the Little Bighorn, not the Yellowstone River.”

“So what's the point of staying here? We could be relaxing on a boat, cruising down the river.”

“And how do we pay for the tickets?”

Kate hadn't thought of that.

“Hey, check out this guy.” AP nodded toward a sharp-featured man at the center of a small group heading their way. He wore a white cowboy hat and a deerskin shirt fringed with tassels, with a red kerchief tied around his neck. His Army uniform pants were tucked inside knee-high cavalry boots. Young and slimly built, he was striding briskly, just ahead of the others, and talking loudly.

“Think they're part of his fan club?” whispered AP. Then he noticed the three dogs trotting by his side.

Kate and AP overheard him say something about a “wild goose chase” and “that idiot Reno.” His followers, including two Indian scouts, were listening to every word.

For a brief moment, his blue eyes met Kate's and he stopped in mid-sentence. Removing his hat with a flourish, he sang out a cheery, “Good morning,” then hurried on. This happened so quickly that Kate had no time to respond. For reasons she couldn't explain, her cheeks began to burn.

“That had to be Custer!” said AP. He was so shocked he didn't notice Kate was blushing. “Imagine seeing him, just like that!”

“Are you sure?” queried Kate. “The Sioux call him Long Hair, but that guy's hair was short.”

“Maybe he had it cut for the battle. Did you notice the way everyone was looking at him?”

Kate shrugged.

“We should be getting back to Laughing Jack.”

Their friend confirmed they had seen Custer. “Big things happening,” he continued. “Let's get something to eat. Then we talk.”

He led the way to a cook tent, grabbed a tin plate and fork, and motioned for them to do the same. Piling his plate with meat and beans, he took several thick wedges of bread, then strode outside and sat on the ground.

Their full plates looked skimpy compared to his.

“Is that all you're having?” he asked as they joined him.

“Yesterday, Major Reno returned from a long scouting trip to try and find where the hostiles are camped,” he told them.

AP had read that Reno led one of the detachments of soldiers in the Battle of the Little Bighorn.

Laughing Jack smiled. “By al
l accounts there was lots of shouting before he went!”

“Why was that?” asked AP.

“Custer didn't want him to go. He thought it pointless searching for the Sioux along the Powder and Tongue Rivers because he's convinced they're camped on the Little Bighorn.”

“Then why did Custer let Reno go?” asked AP.

“Custer's not in charge.”

“But Custer's a general, which is higher than Major Reno.”

“Right,” agreed Laughing Jack, “and Custer commands the Seventh Cavalry, so he can give Reno orders. But General Terry's in charge of the whole thing and he ordered Reno to go.”

“Got it.”

“Anyway, Reno found tracks heading west off the Tongue River. So he followed them to

the Rosebud, but they kept on going. He didn't follow them any farther though—he just hurried back.” Laughing Jack chuckled. “That got him in double trouble! Terry was mad because he disobeyed orders and went beyond the Tongue River. And Custer was mad because Reno didn't carry on and find the camp. If Custer had found the tracks, he would've followed them and attacked the Sioux!”

“What happens now?”

“Well, there was a big war council between General Terry, General Custer and Colonel Gibbon.”

“Who's Gibbon?” asked AP. The name sounded familiar.

“Gibbon's in charge of the infantry—four hundred and fifty foot soldiers.” He then explained the plan. “They're fairly sure the Sioux are camped on the Little Bighorn. So Gibbon and his foot soldiers are going to cut them off from the north.”

AP and Kate exchanged glances. Both were thinking of their Oglala friends

“Custer has orders to cut them off from the east.

“They'll be cut off from the south by old Three Stars Crook. Nobody knows where Crook is right now, except he's heading north with a thousand soldiers. He might find the Sioux before Custer and Gibbon!” [11]

“When does it all start?” asked AP.

“Custer's leading the Seventh Cavalry off tomorrow. I'll be riding out too—I've been assigned to Reno. You two can come if you want, there'll be other civilians going along for the ride.”

Kate shot AP a warning glance.

“You can decide tomorrow. I must go. Let's meet at the cook tent for breakfast.”

With that, he dashed off.

“We'll just go for the first day or two,” suggested AP. “Then turn around and head back here.”

“No way,” Kate said decisively.

“What can go wrong? We know the battle's on June 25 and tomorrow's only the twenty-second.”

“No.”

“Laughing Jack's been assigned to Reno. We'd be nowhere near Custer for the last part.”

“And what happened to Reno in the battle?”

“He was okay. Besides, we'd be on our way back before the battle began.”

“Why am I even thinking about this? We're not going. End of story.”