Grizzly Fury

“Kiaayo kitsiakkomimm,” Bird Rattler said.

“The other bear is her lover?” Fargo translated. It made sense. Normally, male and female grizzlies had little to do with one another. But for about four months each year, April through July, the males sought the females out to mate. If the female was in heat, a male might linger in her vicinity for weeks.

Bird Rattler grunted. “We call female”—he paused as if trying to find the right white word—“Breaks Heads. We call male Little Penis.”

Fargo laughed. Then it hit him what the other was saying. “She’s attacked your people too?”

“Yes.”

Fargo could have slapped himself. It had never occurred to him—and it should have—that if the grizzly was attacking whites, it must also be attacking Indians. “How many has she killed?”

Bird Rattler slid his knife into his beaded sheath. He held up all the fingers and thumb on one hand and four fingers on the others.

“Nine?” Fargo said. “Damn. White and red together puts her tally at over twenty that we know of.” Another insight dawned. “Are you after her too?”

Bird Rattler grunted. “Me,” he said, and pointed at the other two in turn. “Red Mink. Lazy Husband. Others afraid. Say Breaks Heads bad medicine.”

“She sure as hell is,” Fargo agreed, and was struck by an inspiration. “I have an idea. How about if we join forces?”

“Forces?” Bird Rattler said.

“You’re after her. We’re after her. Why not work together and increase our chances?”

“You white,” Bird Rattler said. “White men not like red man.”

“Not all are that way. I’m not.”

“Me must talk,” Bird Rattler said, and led his companions out of earshot.

Fargo brushed himself off. His gut was sore but otherwise he was unhurt. He stared toward the Sharps. None of the warriors objected when he picked it up although Red Mink watched his every move.

The Blackfeet were arguing. Red Mink gestured sharply and Bird Rattler looked at Fargo and used a hand sign that signified, “No.”

Fargo was sure the Blackfeet would have killed him if the subject of the bear hadn’t come up. Lone whites who ventured into their territory were often never heard from again. He held the Sharps in the crook of his elbow as he normally would, and curled his thumb around the hammer, just in case.

The dispute ended. The three warriors came back. Red Mink didn’t appear happy.

Bird Rattler, though, placed his hand on Fargo’s shoulder and looked Fargo in the eye. “We help you, other whites not try kill us?”

“They do and they’ll answer to me,” Fargo promised.

“When kill Breaks Heads, who have hide?”

“You can keep it if it’s you who kills it,” Fargo said. “But the whites will need to show it down in town first. Then you can have it.”

“Deal,” Bird Rattler said, and held out his hand, white-fashion.

Fargo smiled and shook. “With us working together we have a good chance at killing her.”

“Maybe she kill us,” Bird Rattler said.

15

When Fargo rode out of the trees with the Blackfeet behind him, Cecelia was the first to spot them. She let out a holler and Rooster, Moose and Wendolyn grabbed their rifles and came on the run, Rooster going so far as to take aim and cock his Sharps.

“No!” Fargo commanded, drawing rein.

“What the hell? Those are Blackfeet, hoss.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Cecelia had her own rifle and was by the lean-to, her fearstruck brood peeking past her dress. “Are there more of the savages? Do they plan to take us captive? I’ll be damned if they’ll lay a finger on me.”

“Simmer down, both of you,” Fargo said. “They’re after Brain Eater, the same as us.”

“The devil you say?” Wendy said. “I’ve heard a lot about these blighters. Can we trust them?”

“In this we can.”

“Like hell,” Rooster said. “I lost two good friends to the Blackfeet. I don’t trust them any further than I can throw a buffalo.”

“They can be of help,” Fargo insisted. He turned to Moose, who was being unusually quiet again. “What do you say?”

“I say whatever Cecelia says.”

All of them looked at her.

“Well?” Fargo prompted.

Cecelia regarded the Blackfeet as she might three rattlesnakes about to bite her. “You really reckon it would be safe?”

“I do,” Fargo said. “And remember, they have more at stake than we do.”

“How so?”

“Most of us are in it for the money,” Fargo said. “They’re in it to protect their people.”

“They have no interest in the bounty?”

“None,” Fargo confirmed.

Cecelia pursed her lips. “In that case they’re welcome to stay. But only so long as they abide by my conditions.”

“Which are?”

“They do what we say when we say it. They cook for themselves. They’re not to go near my kids, ever. And at night they don’t sleep in the lean-to. Tell them.”

“No,” Fargo said.

“Why in blazes not?”

“Where to begin?” Fargo responded, half to himself. “They’re Blackfeet warriors. We can’t tell them what to do. We can ask but whether they do it or not is up to them. They’re here after Brain Eater, not your kids. They like sleeping under the stars so I doubt they’d want to sleep in the lean-to. And since they’re helping us, we share our food.”