Silver City Massacre (10 page)

Red Shirt nodded thoughtfully, then asked, “How I know I trust you? I come back in morning, maybe you gone.”

Joel stifled a chuckle. “Well, now, there's that possibility, ain't there? But I'll be here because I say so, and my word is steel.”

Red Shirt considered that. Then he nodded again. “You got women. I think they don't go before sunup.” He started walking back the way he had come into the camp.

Joel watched him for as long as he could see him, then moved back on the other side of the pines that had first shielded him. There he remained for the rest of the night, watching. He thought about his little party of travelers, sleeping peacefully, totally unaware that a new member would be joining them in the morning.

Two horse thieves, two females, and one Bannock Indian,
he thought.
Lord help us
.

About one hundred yards away, Red Shirt gathered dry sticks to build a small fire in a gully by the stream. He unrolled his bedroll to spread by the gully with everything he owned laid upon it, everything he needed to hunt food and prepare it, and the few primitive weapons he depended upon for his survival. The white man he had not seen with the others who came to the river seemed to be a fair man, a man of compassion as well. For Red Shirt would surely be dead at this moment had the man not been compassionate.

We will see what the morning brings,
he thought.
If the white man keeps his word, I will have a horse again. A man without a horse is a dead man. I will be alive again
.

“What the hell . . . ?” Riley blurted, and walked to the edge of the firelight to get a better look at the figure approaching from the upstream end of their camp. “Now, what the hell does he want?”

“It's the Indian who gave us the fish,” Ruthie said when she turned to see what had caught Riley's attention. Her comment caused Elvira to pause over the coffeepot before filling her cup. Like Riley, she wondered what the Indian had in mind.

Hearing the comments, Joel, kneeling on one knee while tying his bedroll in preparation to ride, announced dryly, “That's just Red Shirt. He's goin' with us to Silver City.”

He had not bothered to tell them earlier. He wanted to see if the Bannock actually showed up, unaware that Red Shirt had been watching them for most of the night. An awkward silence followed as Riley and the girls stared in jaw-dropping astonishment at the news of another member joining the party.

“You got a cup?” Joel asked, and Red Shirt nodded. “Well, pour yourself a cup of coffee, and then we'll fix you up with a horse.”

Red Shirt smiled graciously, dug his hand inside a deerskin parfleche he carried, and came out with a cup.

Riley was burning inside, but holding his tongue, waiting for the opportunity to talk to Joel alone. Elvira, on the other hand, could hold her silence no longer. She picked up the coffeepot again, walked over to meet Red Shirt, and motioned for him to hold his cup out. While she poured, she expressed her curiosity.

“You know, I wasn't payin' much attention to the conversation that went on last night at supper. I ate too damn much, and when my stomach gets full like that, I sometimes miss half of what everybody's talkin' about. I musta been more flighty-headed than I realized, 'cause I swear I missed the part when we was talkin' about this young feller joinin' our party.”

“I reckon I did, too,” Riley said, “come to think of it.”

Not certain how to interpret the remarks, Red Shirt took a step backward, his face a picture of confusion. Seeing his reaction, Joel couldn't help being amused, but he figured it was time to explain the arrangement he had agreed to while the three of them were sleeping.

“I suppose I shoulda told you last night, but I didn't wanna disturb your sleep. Me and Red Shirt made a trade last night. I swapped him a horse in exchange for him guidin' us to Silver City.”

“You did?” Riley exclaimed. “I thought you and me was partners, and we split everything fifty-fifty.”

“We do,” Joel replied. “I'm tradin' him a horse outta my half of the stock, so you'll own one more of 'em than me. Red Shirt says he knows the mountains all around here, so he can take us to Silver City a lot quicker than if we have to keep followin' the settlers' trail to find the cutoff that leads back into the town. Like I said, it's my deal, but you folks are welcome to follow Red Shirt and me, and no extra charge.” He looked at Ruthie and grinned. “And maybe he'll show you how to catch fish with a spear.”

Riley, although still skeptical, shook his head and chuckled. “Hell, I reckon it's all right with me. Welcome, Red Shirt.” He then cocked a wary eye at the confused Indian. “What if we get attacked by a Shoshoni war party? Whose side you gonna fight on?”

Red Shirt shrugged and declared humbly, “I not fight against you.”

“That's good to know,” Riley said.

Elvira was not yet ready to give up all her caution. “I suppose we'll all get along just fine,” she said, directing her words toward Red Shirt, “just as long as you don't behave like a wild savage and get to thinkin' you wanna scalp somebody.” The perplexed Indian simply stared in disbelief at the formidable woman confronting him for no reason he could think of. He was further mystified when she did an apparent about-face and asked, “Are you hungry? There's some bacon left that nobody's et yet.”

He shook his head, then turned to face a smiling Joel. “Come on, then, and we'll pick out a horse for you,” Joel said. “I noticed you took a likin' to that little paint last night, but that one belongs to Riley. There's some good horses in that bunch, though.” He motioned for Red Shirt to follow him, and started walking toward the small herd.

Red Shirt was very pleased with his selection of a broad-chested bay horse from the small herd by the stream. Joel expressed his regrets for not having saved the Indian saddle the horse was wearing when they had captured it. “No matter,” Red Shirt said. “I make saddle.”

When the camp was packed up and ready to get started, Joel turned to Red Shirt and said, “We're ready to ride, so lead us out.” The Indian nodded and jumped on the bay's back, then led them back to the Oregon road by the river.

Once they struck the trail again, and turned to follow it west, Riley couldn't help remarking to Joel. “Well, back on the old wagon trail, same as we was before. Hell, I told you there's got to be a pretty plain road to Silver City, what with all the folks has gone there lookin' for gold. I believe you mighta cost yourself a horse just to find out there ain't no other way to that town.”

Since they were close enough to their guide for him to hear Riley's comments, Red Shirt reined the bay back to answer Riley. “We follow wagon trail along river till we get to place wagons cross. Then we leave trail, stay on this side of river, head into mountains—wild country. Without Red Shirt, you get lost. Get to Silver City quicker.”

“I wouldn't stay lost for long,” Riley responded indignantly. “I can always find my way outta the mountains. I got us this far without no guide.”

Joel gave a chuckle. “That you did, partner, and I know you'da got us to Silver City, but ol' Red Shirt was born in these mountains, so he's gonna show us a shortcut.”

Red Shirt nodded. “I show you shortcut—get there quicker.” He nudged the bay forward.

Riley reined back to let the Indian get a little ahead. When he felt sure Red Shirt was out of earshot, he complained to Joel. “I don't know, partner. I don't see what the hell we need a guide for. Sure, we may get to Silver City a day or two quicker, but then what the hell are we gonna do with him?”

Joel shrugged. “I didn't make any deal with him except to lead us to Silver City. That's all. He can go his own way from there.”

“Uh-huh,” Riley grunted sarcastically. “It was a helluva deal for him—a horse, just for takin' a few days' ride.”

Joel decided there was no sense in telling Riley that the Indian was going to steal the horse if he hadn't been awake. At least this way they'd get something for the horse, even if it was just a shortcut to Silver City.

“Accordin' to what he told me,” Joel replied to Riley's comment, “it's liable to be more like six or seven days, and that's providin' the weather holds.”

Joel estimated they had traveled about fifteen miles when they decided it best to rest the horses. The place they selected was at a bend of the river just before an area of strong rapids. Always looking for an opportunity to vary their diet from the salt pork that served as the standard, Elvira remarked that it would be nice if they could catch fish to cook again.

“I catch you fish,” Red Shirt immediately said. “Salmon running now.”

“How come you know so much about catchin' fish?” Riley asked. “Most Injuns I ever run into don't know nothin' about fishin'.”

As they had already come to expect, Red Shirt shrugged before answering, “I born here. I am
Agai-deka
Bannock warrior. This is what they call my people.”

“Agai-deka?”
Joel asked. “What's that mean in white man talk?”

“Salmon eater,” Red Shirt replied with a grin.

Riley laughed. “Well, let's go fishin'. Sounds to me like you oughta be an expert. Elvira, better get your skillet ready, 'cause the man's guaranteed fish for dinner.”

Riley's remarks were meant to be chiding, but Red Shirt lived up to the reputation he claimed. There was salmon enough to sate everyone's appetite in short order, much to the amusement of their Bannock fisherman.

•   •   •

After a couple of days following the river, the trail veered away from it to skirt around a deep gorge where the mighty river carved a trough through steep canyon walls. They would travel for most of a day before coming back to it at Three Island Crossing.

“This is where we crossed!” Riley exclaimed upon approaching the most dangerous river crossing on the entire Oregon Trail. “Ben Plummer lost his wagon and everything he owned when his team got skittish and caused it to roll over out there in the deep part. My pa knew what to do. He had me ride beside our lead horse, and I held him by the bridle all the way across. I'll never forget that day. But, hell, you had to cross. If you didn't, it was a hard, dry route to take on this side. All the water and decent grazin' is on the north side.”

“We not cross river,” Red Shirt said. “We go that way.” He turned and pointed toward the rough, rocky ground on the south side of the river.

“Damn, that's right toward the mountains,” Elvira said, and she stood looking toward the towering peaks, which appeared to be stacked one behind the other forever. “How are we gonna find our way through all those mountains?”

“That's what we got a guide for,” Joel told her. He looked at Red Shirt then. “Ain't that right, Red Shirt?”

The somber Indian shrugged. Joel turned back to Elvira and shrugged as well, imitating Red Shirt. Then, chuckling, he said, “Let's get started.”

There were only a few hours of daylight left, so Red Shirt led them on a track that generally followed the river, advising Joel that he thought it best not to push into the mountains until the next day. That was agreeable to all because the waiting mountains looked to be a formidable challenge. They made their camp by a steady stream that fed into the Snake. The men tended the horses while Elvira and Ruthie prepared supper. Since she had a little more time than usual, Elvira decided to use some of her flour and lard and bake some biscuits. They made the dull repast of beans and bacon seem like a banquet, especially when washed down with strong black coffee.

•   •   •

They set out at first light in the morning, Joel and Riley having decided it best to ride for a spell, then stopping to rest the horses and eat breakfast. Red Shirt told them it was best to stay close to the Snake because of the dry country south of the river.

“Maybe two, three hours' ride, come to creek. Stop there to rest and eat.”

So they did as he suggested and came to the creek in a little over two hours. After resting the horses there, they set out again, still following the river. At the end of the day, they found themselves crossing a sandy desert area that made them wonder if they were going the right way.

The days that followed were enough to convince the travelers that the dangerous crossing back at Three Islands was by far the proper choice for the Oregon Trail riders. By the time they reached the high mountains, everyone was happy to see pine and spruce partially covering the slopes towering high above their heads.

Red Shirt led them through narrow mountain passes that appeared to go nowhere, following game trails that somehow found passage from one mountain to the next. By this time, there was no choice other than to trust the stoic Bannock guide completely, for none of his white companions were sure they could find their way back to civilization. Joel suspected they were getting close to their destination when they came across several mining claims.

“Looks like they didn't have much luck in this hole,” Riley commented when they stopped to water the horses at one of the abandoned claims. Looking around him at the camp, he concluded, “They didn't stay here long, from the looks of their leavin's.” Farther down the slope, they found another site, similar to the one above. “I'll bet it was the same ones that worked that claim above. I reckon they finally gave up on the whole stream and lit out for some other spot.”

“My brother said the gold strike brought prospectors in from everywhere,” Joel said. “He said a lot of those folks who passed through this country, lookin' for gold in California, came back here when they heard about the strike.” He looked at Red Shirt then and asked, “How much farther is Silver City from here?”

Red Shirt shrugged, then pointed to a tall mountain slope several miles distant. “Other side that mountain, down in valley.”

His words caused everyone to perk up a little. “I swear,” Elvira proclaimed. “I don't believe it. You mean there really is a place called Silver City? I was beginnin' to think it was just someplace Joel and Riley dreamed up one night in a saloon.”

The word
saloon
triggered Riley's thirst, for it had been a while. “Hell, maybe we oughta quit pokin' along, and we might be able to get to that town before nightfall.”

“There ain't enough daylight to get to that mountain he pointed to, let alone go down to the valley on the other side,” Joel said.

“We at least oughta give it a try,” Riley insisted. He looked at Red Shirt for support. “Whaddaya think, Red Shirt? We can make it, can't we?”

“No,” was the Indian's simple answer. “We be there tomorrow.”

“There, you see,” Elvira injected. “That's your official answer from our guide, you damn drunk. We'd be stumblin' around these mountains in the dark, break a leg on one of the horses. Then where would you be?”

“If I had a drink of likker, I wouldn't give a damn,” Riley answered.

Joel winked at Ruthie before commenting, “You know, you two have got to jawin' at each other like an old married couple. Ain't that right, Ruthie?”

“Yes,” Ruthie giggled.

“Married couple!” Elvira exclaimed. “Why, I'd sooner be married to that horse standin' over there.”

“Now, watch your tongue,” Riley responded. “You wanna go and spook the horses?”