Cry of the Hawk

The trader fanned himself a bit more, moving the clear drop of sweat back and forth until it fell. “I suppose I wanted to be sure of my first impression of you fellas—that you weren’t here to stir these folks up. Enough of that going on, what with the Cheyenne and Kiowa and those Arapaho pushing up against these Creek from the west. Creek just wanna be left alone, you know.”

“We told you why we come here,” Hook said. “And now, since you can’t help us, we’ll be on our way.” He turned from the porch again, but stopped when the trader’s words yanked him around.

“You got any money on you—we can talk about you boys buying some horses.”

Moser nodded, starting to speak, but Hook opened his mouth first.

“What we need horses for, old man? No one knows a thing about this bunch we’ve been trailing out of Missouri. Ever since we crossed the line into the Territories—seems these bastards just up and disappeared like smoke.”

“Wish I could help you there, truly do. But took me years to get the trust of these people. You gotta understand, these Creek been chivied all the way from Alabam’ by white soldiers not that many years ago. Any white man come in here don’t see a welcome sign hung out.”

“Didn’t expect to stay round here long enough to have no one hug me,” Hook said.

“So you won’t be needing the horses, is it?”

“We could use ’em—we just don’t have no money.”

“Neither one of us come home with anything,” Moser replied, knowing it was a lie. He had seen Jonah dig up those few dollars from under that stone in the hearth. But Artus also knew that money had to last them as long as they could stretch it on the necessaries. Right now, a horse was a luxury. But in glancing at his cousin, Moser saw the light had changed in his eyes.

“I didn’t see no horses out in the corral when we come up,” Hook said suspiciously.

“I won’t keep them out where someone can walk off with them,” the trader explained. He pointed the fan off in a general southern direction. “My wife’s people keep them with their stock. Down by their place, a few miles off.”

“That your wife in there, the Injun squaw?”

“She’s Creek—yes.”

“Handsome woman.”

“Give us twelve children through the years. We almost stopped count on the grandchildren,” the trader said with a smile.

“Her people trade for horses?”

“Only if they know you.”

“They know you, don’t they?”

The trader fanned himself, studying Hook over the top of the fan. “So tell me, what you got to trade if you don’t have money?” He eyed their weapons. “That rifle of yours be worth two horses any day, son.”

“I’ll bet it would, old man,” Hook replied caustically. “It ain’t for sale. How you expect a man to survive out here if he don’t have a rifle?”

“You both hefting around big belt guns—”

“The rifle ain’t for sale.”

“Nothing else you want to trade, like them belt guns?”

“You take ’em for two horses?” Moser asked hopefully.

“I’ve got an old mare, fifteen years she is. Give you her for them two belt guns of yours.”

Hook laughed humorlessly. “You’re crazy, old man. We ain’t interested. C’mon, Artus.”

“Maybe there’s something we can—”

“C’mon, Artus.” He kicked off through the red dust that stived up into the heavy, damp air broken by shafts of unrelenting sunshine that broke through the thick-leafed trees.

Moser wanted to say something to the old man, but could not think of anything. He shrugged and leapt off the porch, following his younger cousin. Artus caught up with Jonah at the trees where they penetrated the cooler, heavy air of the forest, following the trail that had brought them here.

“Where we going now?”

“You’re always asking me. Why don’t you tell me where we ought to go.”

Moser thought hard on it, unable to feel right about anything he might suggest. “I don’t know where, now that we lost that bunch.”

“Then you ain’t a bit of help to us, are you?”

“S’pose not.”

“How ’bout if I suggest something then?”

“All right, Jonah. Where we should go?”

“Get us some horses.”

“Where we gonna get some—” He stopped, remembering. “You ain’t thinking of trying to trade them Creek nothing for a couple of horses, are you?”

Jonah shook his head, a crooked smile growing on his face. “I been thinking. We need to find work. And up to Nebraska Territory they’ve got work. But—I also been thinking we can’t walk up there.”

“So how you gonna get horses?”

“We’re gonna borrow ’em.”

His throat seized up as his heart leapt. “You mean steal ’em. That’s what you mean!”

Jonah grabbed him. “They got plenty. They won’t miss two.”

Moser swallowed hard, trying to figure it as Hook grabbed his shoulders, bringing his face close.

“Artus, it’ll be all right. We’ll wait until way past moonrise, then go in and lead a couple horses out.”

“How we gonna do that? We ain’t got any tack—”

“The old trader back there. In his barn. We’ll go back after dark and get us bridles and what we can carry off.”

“Bareback?”

“If we have to.”

“Them Creek, they’ll shoot horse thieves, you know that.”

“Shit, Artus.” Hook smiled. “You been shot at before.”