[Texas Rangers 02] - Badger Boy (34 page)

"Comanche never kill another Comanche."

"Never?"

"Never. But Tonkawa Killer says I lie, cause him big shame. Says I am not Comanche. He glad to kill me. Glad to kill you, too. Only scared of my brother."

"Tell your brother I hope he has a long and happy life."

Rusty was relieved when he put the sight and smoky smell of the Indian camp behind him. He kept looking back, half expecting Tonkawa Killer to build his nerve and come in pursuit. He suspected Steals the Ponies had the same suspicion, for the Indian also kept watching their back trail.

They had ridden perhaps three miles, and the sun was at the horizon line, the shadows long and dark across the open buffalo prairie. Ahead lay the same narrow creek in which Rusty and Andy had taken refuge from the first set of hunters. The line of small timber looked black against the sun-gilded grass. Somehow Rusty felt that the creek was far enough from camp to be a safe haven. Beyond it, he should be all right.

Steals the Ponies reined up and spoke sharply to Andy. He handed Rusty's rifle to the boy, who passed it on to Rusty. Rusty saw alarm in Andy's eyes, though so far he had seen no reason for it.

Four Comanches rode up out of the creek bottom and stopped in a line. At one end, Tonkawa Killer brandished a lance.

Evidently they had circled around without allowing themselves to be seen. Rusty shivered. "Looks like he's not as afraid of your brother as you thought he was."

Steals the Ponies said something. Tensely, Andy translated. "My brother cannot shoot Tonkawa Killer. You can."

"There's three more besides him."

"They not fight. Come only to see."

Rusty threw the breech open. He felt a jolt as he saw that the chamber was empty. One of the Comanches had removed the cartridge. He fumbled in his pocket for another.

Tonkawa Killer made a loud shout and came charging. Rusty had trouble fishing out a cartridge while trying to watch the Comanche rushing at him. He saw the lance point bobbing, a dark scalp hanging from the shaft. He knew he was too slow.

He was aware of a swift movement beside him. Andy's bowstring sang as an arrow flew. It made a dull thump driving into Tonkawa Killer's chest.

The lance point dropped, digging into the ground. Tonkawa Killer was jerked half around, then toppled from his horse. The animal brushed by Rusty and ran on.

It happened so quickly that Rusty had time only to draw one sharp breath, then it was over. Tonkawa Killer lay threshing on the ground, fighting against death but rapidly losing. He shuddered and went still.

"My God, Andy."

The three Comanches at the creek seemed ready to charge, but Steals the Ponies rode forward and spoke sharply. The argument was over almost before it began. Two of the Indians dismounted and picked up the body while the third caught and returned Tonkawa Killer's horse. Casting hating glances at Andy and Rusty, they laid the lifeless warrior across the animal's back and led him toward camp.

Steals the Ponies watched them closely, his eyes grave. Andy's hands shook uncontrollably. He could not take his eyes from the small pool of blood where the downed warrior had lain. He had never killed a man. That he had done it now, and that the man he killed was Comanche, filled him with horror.

Steals the Ponies placed his hands on Andy's shoulders. "It is an awful thing you have done, little brother."

Andy wept. "He was about to kill Rusty."

"Now his brothers must try to kill you. You chose a Texan over your own. From now on, you will be an outcast."

"He took care of me. I could not let him die."

"It is easy to watch an enemy die. It takes a brave man to stand aside and allow it to happen to a friend. But sometimes it must be done."

"Rusty risked his life to bring me home."

"This is no longer your home. It never can be again."

"What can I do?"

"You were born white. We made you Comanche. Now you must be white again. By what name does your red-haired friend call you?"

"Andy. The name my mother and father gave me."

"You are Badger Boy no more. You must be Andy now, and for however long you may live."

Andy placed a hand against his heart. "I will always be Badger Boy. I will always be Comanche."

Steals the Ponies embraced him. "To me you will always be Badger Boy. But to the others ... it will be as if you never lived. You must never return here."

Tears rolled down Andy's cheeks as he clung to his Comanche brother.

Steals the Ponies said, "Go now, you and the red-hair. Go far while the night can hide you." He tore free of Andy. "Go. Forget."

"I will not forget."

"Then remember what is good in Comanche ways, but find your place in the white man's world." Steals the Ponies remounted his horse and rode off into the dusk. Shoulders sagging, Andy watched him until he disappeared.

Rusty's heartbeat gradually slowed to near normal. His mouth was dry as powder. He rode down to the creek and dismounted. He knelt and cupped his hands, sipping from them as the cold water trickled between his fingers.

Andy came down to join him, his face mirroring his anguish. "My brother says I must go with you now." His voice broke. "I go with you, or I die."

Rusty knew it was his fault. Reluctant to cut the tie with Andy, he had ridden too far into a hostile land. "I'm sorry."

Andy rubbed an arm across his eyes. It came away wet. "Too big to cry."

"Sometimes it's the best thing you can do." Rusty hugged the boy and let him cry himself out.

"My brother says I must be white now." Again Andy placed his hand against his heart. "But here, always, part of me will be Comanche."

And you'll never be sure just who you really are, Rusty thought darkly. He knew, for he had been there.

The boy pulled up onto his horse and reined it into the creek. "Soon be dark. We go long way in dark."

Rusty's throat was tight as he moved to catch up. More to himself than to Andy, he said, "A long way. But you have the longest road to travel."

* * * THE END * * *

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[31 Oct 2011] Formatted, proofed, converted for mobi by Dino