Seed of Evil (4 page)

The temperature was pushing one hundred the day that Zach King and two Shoshones came down out of the mountains to Mud Hollow. They drew rein on a hill that overlooked the new mercantile. Zach took in the horses that lined the hitch rail and the bustle of activity. “What we heard is true.”

His uncle, Touch The Clouds, grunted. “If the rest is true, you can stop worrying.”

“I have to see for myself.”

The other Shoshone said, “Your father is satisfied, but you are still suspicious.”

“I’m not my father, Drags The Rope.”

The warrior smiled. “No, Stalking Coyote, you are not Grizzly Killer.”

“The whites have a saying,” Zach said. “Better safe than sorry. It’s better if these traders prove to us we can trust them than if we take it for granted and end up like before.” He kneed his dun.

The slope was broken by a new trail, courtesy of the many who had already paid the trading post a visit. Below, Crows, Nez Perce, and several Flatheads were moving about or talking.

“I do not see any Blackfeet,” Drags The Rope said, and grinned.

“If they find out about this place, they might burn it to the ground,” Zach predicted.

“It is too far south for the Blackfeet,” Touch The Clouds said.

“Then the Sioux, maybe.”

“Why do you resent these traders so much? It could be they have good hearts.”

Zach didn’t have a ready answer. His sister liked to poke fun at him by saying he was suspicious of all whites. But that wasn’t entirely true. He trusted his father, and his father’s dearest friend and mentor, Shakespeare McNair. Besides, he was part white himself.

A wagon was parked by the corral. A grizzled white man with gray hair and a floppy hat came out of what Zach took to be a small stable and stretched. He spied them and immediately hurried into the trading post.

Their arrival sparked considerable interest. Zach knew a number of the warriors and acknowledged the few who acknowledged him. More were interested in greeting Touch The Clouds. The giant Shoshone leader was famed not only among his own kind, but also among many other tribes—including their enemies—for his bravery and devotion to the welfare of his people.

Drags The Rope remarked with another of his wry grins, “I am happy to be ignored.”

They dismounted and went into the mercantile. Zach recognized the man called Toad behind the long counter from his father’s description. On the near side of the counter stood a man with blond curls. His father had called that one Geist. A small man with ratlike eyes was at the far end, a rifle on the counter next to him. That would be Petrie, Zach decided. The man with the gray hair and floppy hat and two others were leaning against the opposite wall. All of them were armed, but that was nothing new on
the frontier; Zach was heavily armed himself. He walked to the counter with his Shoshone friends on either side.

“How do you do?” Toad said. “I understand that you’re Nate King’s son, Zach.” He held out his hand.

Zach shook hands, but he didn’t like doing so. The man’s hand was clammy.

“I’m Geist,” the blond man said, and he shook, too.

Zach introduced Touch The Clouds and Drags The Rope.

“I’m right pleased to make your acquaintance,” Geist said. He offered his hand, but Touch The Clouds didn’t take it. Instead, Touch The Clouds grunted.

“He’s not insulting you,” Toad said. “Shaking hands is a white custom.” To the Shoshone chief he said, “I’m pleased to meet you as well. I hope your people will feel free to visit often.”

In Shoshone, Touch The Clouds said to Zach, “You talk for us. I do not want them to know I know a little of their tongue.”

Zach nodded at the three men against the wall. “Who are they?”

“They work for me,” Toad said.

“Their names.”

Toad seemed surprised. He pointed at the one in the floppy hat. “That’s Dryfus. Next to him is Gratt. The tall one is Berber.”

“Why do you want to know their names?” Geist asked.

“It is good to know who your enemies might be,” Zach told him.

“Enemies?” Toad said. “Didn’t your father tell you? I run an honest store. Anyone comes in here, white or red, they’re treated the same.”

“If that’s true, it would make you…” Zach pretended to grope for a word. “What is it the whites say? Oh, yes. It would make you a saint.”

Toad snorted. “I’m not any such thing. I’m a businessman. But an honest businessman.”

“Is that possible?”

“Your friend St. Vrain is one. The Bent brothers, too, from what I’m told.”

“Yes,” Zach admitted. “They are.”

“I am just like them.”

Zach stared down the counter at Petrie. “That remains to be seen.”

Geist stood outside the trading post and watched the younger King and the two Shoshones ascend the trail up the hill to the west.

Petrie came out and stood watching, too. “What do you think?”

“I think Toad was pretty convincing. They acted like they almost believed him.”

“The half-breed didn’t.”

“Now that I’ve met him, I’m not so concerned.”

“You’re not?”

Geist shook his head. “He didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as everyone makes him out to be. He was curious, mostly. And testy. But that comes from being a half blood.” He thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “No, sir. I think we can get on with our plans and won’t have to worry about Zach King one bit.”

“About damn time,” Petrie said.

“But we still have to be careful. That Touch The Clouds could bring his entire tribe down on us, so you make sure the others understand. No Shoshone women. Not one. You hear me?”

“We didn’t aim to use any anyway.”

“We’ll start with the Crows,” Geist said. “They’re practically used to it. Anyone who stops in a Crow village for the night is allowed to help himself.”

“Filthy heathens.”

“Now, now. I sort of admire their honesty. But they’re awful dumb, giving it away for free.”

“What about the other tribes?” Petrie asked.

“One at a time, remember? Once we have a thriving trade with Crow females, we’ll see about adding others. From what I hear, some tribes will sell their women outright if the price is right. A couple of horses and a few blankets could get us one who brings in three to four hundred a year.”

“But will the whores be enough?”

Geist looked at him. “It never has been, has it? We’ll run the liquor on the side. And if all goes well, we’ll sell some guns to tribes we’re not supposed to.”

“Like the Blackfeet and maybe the Sioux?”

“For a start.” Geist smiled. “These wilds are everything I’d hoped they’d be. There are opportunities galore for men with no scruples.”

“That would be us,” Petrie said.

“Yes, it would,” Geist said, and they both laughed.

Life was glorious.

Chases Rabbits came down out of Crow country to pay another visit to his new white friends. He was winding along a serrated ridge with patches of thick woods broken by small meadows. He sat straight and tall on his new sorrel, thinking of how magnificent his reflection had looked in the stream. The next patch of woods ended and he emerged into another sunny meadow.

Chases Rabbits drew rein in alarm. There was a grizzly in the center of the meadow. It had been so long since he saw one of the silver-tip bears that he had forgotten how enormous they were: as huge as a buffalo. Even worse, each of their giant paws was rimmed with long claws that could flay flesh like sharp knives, and their maws were rimmed with sharp pointed teeth powerful enough to crunch through bone.

The bear was rooting at what appeared to be a badger burrow, and had not seen him yet.

Chases Rabbits debated what to do. He could rein around and ride like the wind, but the grizzly might hear him and give chase. Or he could sit quietly and hope the beast went on its way without noticing him.

Grunting and snorting, the grizzly dislodged large clumps of dirt. Evidently it was intent on digging the badger out.

Chases Rabbits sat quietly. The sorrel raised its
head and pricked its ears, quivering. To keep it from bolting, Chases Rabbits bent and patted its neck, whispering, “Be brave, horse. I am here.” He looked up.

The grizzly was staring right at him.

Chases Rabbits’s mouth went dry. He had his new rifle, but it only had one shot. Grizzly Killer had once told him that it could take seven or eight to bring a silver-tip down. Their skulls were so thick, they were impervious to bullets. As for a heart or a lung shot, their massive bodies were so padded with muscle and fat that the lead couldn’t penetrate.

Chases Rabbits also remembered Grizzly Killer saying that sometimes a loud voice would scare a bear off. So he shouted, “I am Chases Rabbits of the Apsaalooke! I am a mighty warrior and a fierce fighter! Go away, bear, and do not arouse my wrath or you will be sorry!”

The grizzly roared and charged.

Chases Rabbits didn’t have to rein the sorrel around. It wheeled on its own and raced into the trees with a recklessness he found as frightening as the bear. Branches whipped at his face and tore at his buckskins, threatening to dump him to the ground.

A glance back showed the bear in swift pursuit.

“Faster, horse!” Chases Rabbits cried, and slapped his legs.

A thicket loomed and instead of going around, the panicked sorrel plunged in. Chases Rabbits was aghast. It slowed them and they needed all the speed the horse possessed.

The grizzly hurtled in after them.

Chases Rabbits twisted, intending to shoot it. He raised his rifle and tried to aim, but he couldn’t hold the gun steady no matter how hard he tried.

The bear was gaining.

Facing front, Chases Rabbits stiffened. They had burst out of the thicket and a low tree branch flashed at his face. He ducked just in time and felt it brush his hair.

A loud wheezing filled his ears. The bear was breathing so hard, it sounded like a stampeding bull buffalo.

Chases Rabbits reined right and then left. Thankfully, the sorrel responded. But the bear was still gaining. Its ears were back and its teeth gleamed, and as Chases Rabbits swept around a pine the bear swung a front paw and nearly caught the sorrel’s leg.

Chases Rabbits had never been so scared. He recalled the time another warrior was killed and eaten, and how the man’s stomach had been torn open and the intestines left hanging out like so much pale rope, and the terrible stench.

The sorrel squealed. The bear’s claws had torn its flank.

Chases Rabbits sensed his doom. It wasn’t right for him to die now, of all times. A lovely woman was interested in him. His people looked up to him as their important link to the whites. And best of all, he got to sit in council with Long Hair and the other leaders.

Suddenly he realized that he didn’t hear the wheezing anymore. He glanced over his shoulder and whooped in joy. The bear had stopped. Grizzlies could run fast, but only for short distances. They tired much sooner than a horse.

When he was an arrow’s flight away, Chases Rabbits brought the sorrel to a stop, and turned.

The bear was lumbering off in search of easier prey.

“I told you I am a mighty warrior!” Chases Rabbits
yelled, and shook his rifle and yipped. He would have a great story to tell when he got back to the village, and the claw marks on the sorrel to prove it was true.

He waited a good long while to be sure the bear was gone, then smacked his heels and resumed his journey. He rode warily in case the grizzly circled to come at him again. It was not unheard of.

The sun was high in the sky when Chases Rabbits reached Mud Hollow. A silly name, but then the whites gave many names to things that made no sense.

The mercantile was busy, as usual. Chases Rabbits squared his shoulders. He smiled at Crows he knew and nodded at several Nez Perce he had met as he drew rein at the hitch rail. He tied the sorrel off as the whites liked to do, cradled his rifle, and strode in.

Geist, over at a table with Petrie and Dryfus, spotted him right away and waved.

Chases Rabbits went over. “It be good to see you again, my friend.”

Petrie looked him up and down. “Ain’t you the dandy? Where’d you get white buckskins?”

“Mother make,” Chases Rabbits said. “From white buck father kill.”

“An albino? You don’t say.” Petrie fingered Chases Rabbits’s sleeve. “I’d like to get me a set just like yours one day.”

“Me handsome, yes?”

“Oh, very,” Geist said. He bobbed his chin at the other two. “Leave us alone, boys. Our partner and me have something to talk about.”

Chases Rabbits sank carefully into a vacated chair. He had never understood why whites insisted on
sitting in these uncomfortable things when there was always the perfectly flat ground or a floor to sit on. “I be partner?” He was trying to remember what the word meant.

“You bet,” Geist said. “We couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Chases Rabbits was flattered. He was important to his people
and
to the whites.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Water.”

“Oh. That’s right. You don’t drink liquor. Too bad. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Geist chuckled. “What’s that saying you’re so fond of?”

“Not just me. My people.” Chases Rabbits recited, “The Crow who drinks white whiskey is no longer Crow.”

“Haven’t your people ever heard of moderation?”

“What that?”

“You only drink enough to wet your whistle, not enough to drown.” Geist raised an arm and extended two fingers.

Toad promptly came around the counter with a bottle and two glasses and set them down without comment. Toad stared at Chases Rabbits, then went back.

“Him strange man.”

“All his people are.”

“His people? Him white like you.”

“All whites aren’t the same,” Geist said. “I come from good European stock. He’s a dreg.”

“What that?” Chases Rabbits asked.

“Forget him.” Geist opened the bottle and filled both glasses halfway. “We need to talk, you and me, about how we can help each other even more.” He pushed one of the glasses across the table.

“No, thank you,” Chases Rabbits said politely.

“Come on. Just a sip. It’s considered rude to refuse a drink from a friend.” Geist raised his glass. “Let’s toast our friendship.”

Chases Rabbits reluctantly picked up the glass. He didn’t want to insult anyone. Geist touched glasses and drained his in a gulp. Chases Rabbits took a sip and grimaced at how terrible it tasted.

“That’s a start,” Geist said. “Now then, let’s talk about your women.”

Not that many winters ago, Chases Rabbits had thought that Evelyn King was the most beautiful girl alive. Now he knew better. Raven On The Ground was all the beauty in the world in one body. When he looked at her, his mind stopped working and his whole body went numb.

Now, standing in the shade of an oak, Chases Rabbit watched the woman of his dreams wash clothes in the stream. She was on her knees at the water’s edge, dipping a doeskin dress in a pool. Her lustrous hair, her curves, her face, her lively eyes—she was perfection.

Chases Rabbits stepped out from under the tree and coughed to get her attention. She looked up and smiled, and his brain refused to work.

“Chases Rabbits! You are back from the new trading post.”

“Yes,” Chases Rabbits forced his mouth to say. None of his people called it a mercantile as the whites did. He walked over, his new rifle in the crook of his elbow.

“What is that around your waist?”

Chases Rabbits looked down at himself as if he didn’t know what she meant. “This?” He touched
his new leather belt, which he wore over his buckskins as Grizzly Killer did. “The whites gave it to me.”

Raven On The Ground stood and ran her hand from the buckle to his hip. “It is very smooth.”

A sudden constriction in Chases Rabbits’s throat prevented him from replying.

“I am proud of you. Everyone is talking about how you have helped our people.”

“It is nothing,” Chases Rabbits said, his voice strangely strained.

“You are too modest.” Raven On The Ground touched his cheek. “And so handsome.”

A hot feeling spread from Chases Rabbits’s neck to his hair.

“Will you come visit me tonight?”

Chases Rabbits grew hotter. “Does this mean I can court you?”

“Silly man. What else have you been doing all this time?”

Her laughter was the music of a flute and the beauty of a rainbow all in one.

At that moment Chases Rabbits would have done anything for her—scaled the highest cliff, caught a wild horse, slain the grizzly he had encountered. Well, maybe not the grizzly, he reflected.

“So tell me what happened with the whites,” Raven On The Ground urged. She drew him to a log and perched with his hand in hers.

“They want me to make a request before the council,” Chases Rabbits related. “I will do so tonight.”

“What do they want of us?”

Chases Rabbits explained how the whites were interested in hiring women to do work at the mercantile. “They will give blankets and beads and whatever else the women might like.”

Raven On The Ground’s lovely eyes lit up. “That is something I would be interested in.”

“I know. That is why I came straight to you before I told anyone else.”

“Maybe I could get a hand mirror like Yellow Butterfly has. I have always wanted one.” She bubbled with excitement. “Oh, this is grand. What kind of work would I have to do?”

“The whites want women to cook and clean and do other things.”

“What other things?”

“The man called Geist didn’t say.”

Raven On The Ground stood. “Come. I will ask my mother and father right away. And when you bring it before the council tonight, I will be the first to step forward and say I am interested.” She tenderly placed her palm on his face. “You have done me a great favor. I am grateful.”

“I would do anything for you,” Chases Rabbits said.