Lonely On the Mountain (1980) (10 page)

Devnet Molrone did not appear on deck, and Kyle Gavin seemed preoccupied.

Orrin walked along the upper deck, watching the shoreline and the river ahead, although rarely could they see the river for more than a few hundred yards, if that far.

Twice he saw deer, once a small herd of buffalo. He saw no Indians.

There were few passengers aboard. Three men and a woman bound for Pembina and a tall, lean young man for Fort Garry. There was also a portly, middle-aged man in a tweed suit.

"This Riel," the latter said distastefully, "who does he think he is? How dare he?

He's nothing but a bloody savage!" "I understood he'd studied for the priesthood," the young man protested, "and worked for some paper in Montreal or somewhere." "Balderdash! The man's an aborigine!

Why, he's part Indian! Everybody knows that!" "One-eighth," the young man said.

"No matter. Who does he think he is?" "From what I hear," Orrin suggested mildly, "he simply stepped in to provide a government where there was none." "Balderdash! The man's an egotistical fool! Well," he said finally, "no need to bother about him. The army will be here soon, and they'll hang him. Hang him, I say!" The young man looked over at Orrin and shrugged. After a bit, he walked forward with him.

"A man of definite opinions," Orrin said mildly.

"I know little enough about Riel except some poetry of his that I've read. Not bad at all, not bad. But he seems a reasonable man." "If they give him time," Orrin commented. "It would seem some at least have already made up their minds." "You're headed west, I hear?" "British Columbia, but first I've got to round up some cattle and find, if I can, the bodies of my brothers, who are said to have been killed in a stampede." "Dash it all! I am sorry! I heard something to that effect." He glanced at Orrin.

"Going to the gold fields?" "Eventually, if we get the cattle." "I would take it as a favor if you permitted me to come along." "You?" Orrin glanced at him. "I will carry no excess baggage. If you come with me, you will work and be paid for it. You will ride, round up cattle and drive them, and if necessary, fight Indians." "I'm your man. It sounds like great fun." "It won't be. It is brutally hard work, and a good chance to be killed." "I understand Miss Molrone is going with you?" So that was it? "She may change her mind. Right now she is headed for Carlton House and may go no further. If it is she whom you're interested in, I would suggest you go to Carlton House." Pembina would soon be showing up around a bend.

Once there, he could begin recruiting, but instead of the two men he had hoped to get, now he would need at least four and preferably more. This young man--what was his name? He might prove to be just the man he needed.

Kyle Gavin came forward to stand beside him, watching the blunt bow part the river waters.

Huge elms hung over the river, extending limbs out from either side until they almost met above the river. Here and there along the banks were clumps of willow, some grown into trees of some size.

"Dev----, I mean Miss Molrone tells me you've had bad news? About your brothers, I mean?" "Yes, the man called Cougar told me they were dead. That they had been killed. I'll believe that when I see it." "I am sorry! I must--well, I have to admit I heard the same story, but I just hadn't--I mean, I couldn't bring myself to tell you." Orrin glanced at Gavin, his eyes cool.

"I prefer to know such things. The sooner the better." "You're still going west?" "Why not? I still have a herd to deliver. Their death, if dead they are, changes nothing in that sense." "But your cattle are gone! Scattered to the winds, and probably many of them have been killed.

What can you do?" "That we will see, Mr. Gavin. A cousin of mine is waiting for the delivery of those cattle.

He will not be disappointed." Gavin stared at him in obvious disbelief.

"But you don't seem to understand! You're over two thousand miles from there! You have no cattle! You have nobody to help! The same Sioux who killed your brothers will be waiting for you, and further west there are Blackfeet! You don't have a chance!

"Even," he added, "if Riel does not requisition your carts and supplies. And if he does not demand them, the army certainly will. Such things are in short supply." "We will manage." Suddenly, there was a blast from the whistle.

Orrin Sackett turned, pulling his hat brim down.

Pembina was just ahead.

Chapter
XI

Pembina had little to offer. A customhouse, a trade store, and a scattering of cabins. The oldest settlement around, its fortunes had varied with travel and the fur trade, but now Fort Garry and the village of Winnipeg were attracting settlers that might otherwise have been drawn to Pembina.

Orrin Sackett wasted no time, for the International would be there for but a short stay. He walked up to the trading post and looked around quickly.

Only a few men were present, at least two of whom he immediately catalogued as drunks. He started to turn away when he stopped and looked again at the man at the end of the bar. He had his hat pushed back, and an impudent grin touched his lips.

"Howdy!" he said. "You all still rustlin' for men?" "How are you, Shorty? Yes, I am." He paused. "You travel fast." "It's a mighty poor horse that ain't faster'n that steamboat, what with all the curves in that river. I beat you by a whole day." Shorty emptied his glass. "Word gets around that you won't be needin' any hands. They say your cattle were stampeded and your brothers killed. They say you're wiped out." Orrin pushed his hat back. He glanced at the bartender. "A beer," he said, "and give Shorty whatever he's drinking." He waited for the beer, took a swallow, and then said, "I never seen a herd so scattered that a man couldn't round up some of them, and as for Tell and Tyrel, they don't kill very easy. I've seen 'em shot at, I've seen 'em wounded, I've seen them days without food or water, and somehow they always came through.

"Regardless, we gave our word to deliver cattle, and deliver them I will if I have to round up a herd of buffalo and drive them through.

"I've got just one man, Shorty, an' old cart driver named Baptiste. We've got two cartloads of grub an' gear, and I'm rustling for men and horses.

"Out west there, they've got some mighty mean Sioux, some meaner Blackfeet, and some grizzlies that will stand higher than a horse and heavier than a bull. They've got mountains where nobody ever drove a cow critter before, and there may be some men along the trail who'd like to stop us. What d'you say?" "Sounds like my kind of a deal." Shorty tossed off his drink. "Finish your beer. I know a man who's got some horses." Two hours later, Orrin owned six new horses. Shorty stood back and watched him, an amused smile on his face. Orrin passed by dozens of horses to choose the six he finally bought.

"You done yourself proud," Shorty said. "You got yourself six of the best. But you get to roundin' up stock on the plains, and six horses won't last even two men no time at all." "We'll have more. What I need right now is men." "Tough. Usually, you could find all you wanted.

These m`etis ain't cowpunchers by a long shot, but they can ride, and they can shoot, and you find quite a few who are fair hands with a rope. And they're workers, every durned one of them." The steamboat whistled. "Shorty? You want to meet me in Fort Garry with these horses?" "Surest thing you know. But you watch your step.

That's a mighty touchy situation there." He had no doubt of it, yet there was nothing to do but to go ahead and cope with the situations as they occurred.

He could not make himself believe that Tell and Tyrel were dead. If not dead, they might be lying somewhere, injured and suffering. Or they might be prisoners of the Sioux.

He made the International just as they were taking in the gangway.

Devnet met him on the upper deck. "It isn't far now, is it?" she asked.

"A few more hours. You are going to Fort Carlton?" "Of course." "Is Mrs. McCann going with you?" "I think not. I do not know her well, you know.

We just met while traveling, and all I know is that she wishes to go west, all the way to the Pacific." "You should have no trouble." She turned to him suddenly. "I am sorry about your brothers, so very sorry. were you so very close?" "We had our differences, but they never amounted to much. Yes, we were close. I left my law practice to help them." "What will you do now?" "Find their bodies, if possible, bury them, and then round up the cattle and go on west." He paused. "But I cannot believe they are dead. They were both so strong, so alive. They were survivors. They'd been through a lot." He hesitated, then said, "Miss Molrone, I--" "My friends call me Nettie. It is easier to say than Devnet." "All right, Nettie. What will you do if you learn nothing of your brother at Carlton?" "Go on west, I presume. He has to be there." "You must realize there is no regular mode of travel to the west, only occasional groups of travelers. Someday there will be a railroad. They are talking of it now, and since this Riel trouble, I imagine there will be a serious effort made, but that's years away." "I have to go--somehow." "We will not be going by way of Carlton but will be going west from Fort Ellice. We will follow the Qu'Appelle River, more or less. If you could join us--of course, it will be rough, sleeping on the ground and all that." "I could do it." They talked the morning away but saw nothing of Kyle Gavin. Before the noontime meal, Mary McCann came up to join them. She said little, had blunt but not unattractive features, and Orrin noticed her hands showed evidence of much hard work.

Occasionally, now, there were breaks in the wall of trees on either bank, and they could catch glimpses of meadows and in one case of a plowed field. The country was very flat, and the river wound slowly through it. They saw many ducks and an occasional hawk.

A dozen men armed with rifles, whom he took to be m`etis, waited on the landing.

One of them came forward as the carts were being driven ashore. His name, he said, was Lepine.

"I am Orrin Sackett." Lepine nodded. "We have heard of you." He gestured to the carts. "These will be confiscated." Briefly, Orrin explained. Lepine shrugged. "It will be up to Louis. He will decide." It was arranged for him to be conducted to the fort where Riel had taken up his residence.

Riel came into the room wearing a black frock coat, vest and trousers, and moccasins, as did nearly everyone. He had quick, intelligent eyes, a broad forehead, and a shock of black hair.

He listened, his eyes roaming around the room, as Orrin explained. At the end, he nodded.

"Of course. We will release your goods. I have heard of the attack you mention." "And my brothers? were they killed?" "What we heard was little enough. There was a stampede, an attempt to scatter the cattle so the Sioux could take them when they wished.

"There was some fighting, which would imply somebody survived the stampede. The Sioux claim to have lost no one, but one of my men, who was in their camp shortly after, learned

here were some losses, and the Sioux had but one fresh scalp that he saw." He glanced at Orrin. "You must give me your word the rifles will not be used against me, nor the supplies given to those who consider themselves my enemies." His restless eyes kept moving about the room.

Suddenly, he asked, "How many men do you have?" "Two--now. A cart driver named Baptiste--" Riel smiled. "I know him. A good old man." He looked around at Orrin. "But only two? What can you do?" "I hope to find more." "Well"--he shook his head doubtfully--"you have a problem." He waved a hand. "Go! It is all right! You shall have your carts. I want trouble with no one. I began all this because I wanted peace.

There were surveyors coming on our land, and I was afraid there would be a shooting." Orrin turned to the door, and his hand was on the latch when Riel spoke again. "Wait! There is a man, an American like yourself. He is in jail here. I think he is a good man." "In jail for what?" "Fighting." Orrin smiled. "All right. I will talk to him." "If you hire him, the case will be dismissed." Riel smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling. "Just take him away from here. It needed four of my men to get him locked up." Lepine unlocked the cell, and a man got up from the straw. He was at least two inches taller than Orrin's six feet and four inches but leaner. He had a handlebar moustache and a stubble of beard. One eye was black, fading to blue and yellow, and his knuckles were skinned.

"You want a job?" Orrin said.

"I want to get out of here." "You take the job, you get out. Otherwise, they'll throw the key away." "Don't look like I have much choice." He stared at Orrin. "What kind of a job is this, anyway?" "Rounding up cattle stampeded by buffalo.

It's in Sioux country." "Hell, I'd rather stay in jail. They gotta let me out sometime." He was watching Orrin, and suddenly he said, "What's your name, mister?" He paused. "It wouldn't be Sackett, would it?" "It would. I am Orrin Sackett." "I'll be dammed! They call me Highpockets Haney. I thought you had the mark on you. You Sacketts all seem cut to the same pattern, sort of. I served in the army with a Sackett named William Tell." "My brother." "I'll be dammed! All right, you got yourself a boy. On'y you got to get me a wee-pon.

They done taken my rifle gun an' my pistol." A burly, m`etis, sitting on a log with a rifle across his knees, looked up as they came out. "Take heem! Take heem far! He geef me a leep!" He touched his lip with tender fingers.

"Hell," Haney said, "look at the eye you gave me!" "What we fight about?" Haney chuckled. "You expect me to remember? More'n likely I wondered whether you was as tough as you looked." He chuckled again. "You're tougher!" Shorty was at the customhouse with the six horses. He led the way to a place back from the river and on a grassy hillside under the spreading branches of some old trees. "Camped here before," he explained.