Boone's Lick

"I'll stroll along with the boy," Uncle Seth said, getting up from the table. "I need to see Bill Hickok about something anyway."

Ma didn't look happy to hear that.

"I thought he left," she said.

"Not as of today, according to the sheriff," Uncle Seth said.

"Then that explains where Neva is, doesn't it?" Ma said.

Her tone of voice upset Granpa Crackenthorpe so much that he got his big cap-and-ball pistol and wandered off out the door.

"I believe there's a panther around--I better take care of it," he said.

That was always Granpa's excuse, when things got tense at the table. I had never seen a panther in my whole life and neither had G.T. But the notion that a panther was about to get the mules was the method Granpa used when he wanted to stand clear of trouble.

Ma paid him no mind. Now it seemed to be her turn to be lost in thought.

"Now, Mary Margaret, you don't need to be worrying about Neva," Uncle Seth said. "If she should happen to be with Bill Hickok then she's as safe as if she was in jail. Bill is a perfect gentleman where young ladies are concerned."

Ma didn't answer him. She got up and followed us to the door, but she didn't come outside.

"Hurry back," she said, as we started down the road.

4 ONCE we started on the road to town I couldn't hold back my question.

"That was a horse we butchered," I said. "It wasn't an elk."

"Well, I didn't do any of the butchering but it did seem to have the appearance of a horse," Uncle

Seth agreed.

"Besides that, Sheriff Baldy was sitting on the horse," I reminded him.

"Even if Ma thought a horse looked like an elk, there was the sheriff on top of it. A sheriff wouldn't ride an elk."

"It would be unlikely, particularly if it was Baldy," Uncle Seth agreed.

To my disappointment, he didn't seem to want to talk about the fact that Ma had confused a horse with an elk--or had claimed to, at least. Maybe it was because he was thinking about Wild Bill Hickok, the famous pistolero we were going to see. I had heard him talk about Wild Bill once or twice, so I knew the two men knew one another--but that was all I 12

knew. Uncle Seth had picked up his rifle as we left the house--it was still in its oilcloth sheath. I don't think he brought it along because he was worried about panthers, either. I didn't know what he might be worried about. Uncle Seth gambled a lot--he might owe Mr. Hickok money, for all I knew. It could even be money he didn't have. Or Hickok might owe him money, in which case getting him to pay might not be easy.

I had no idea what Uncle Seth might be thinking, but then, suddenly, he told me.

"I like the Cheye

I had never met a Cheye

"I would trust a Cheye

I didn't say anything. I knew Uncle Seth would get around to telling me what he wanted to tell me if I could be patient and hold my tongue.

I think he was about ready to come out with it when we saw somebody come slipping up the road--the somebody was Neva.

"Hello," Uncle Seth said. "It's nice to see you're well."

He could see her clearly, because the clouds had finally blown away and there was a big bright moon.

"Hello," Neva said, and that was all she said. She went right on past us, toward the freight yard. If she had any adventures in Boone's Lick she didn't share them with us.

"Say, look out for Granpa," Uncle Seth called after her. "He's out with his old cap-and-ball again, looking for panthers. Don't yowl or he might shoot you."

"I don't never yowl," Neva said. "Anyway, I don't think that old pistol of his will even shoot." Then she was gone.

"Besides being hardheaded, the womenfolk in this family are closemouthed, too," he said. "The only way you're going to know what one of them does is if you catch her at it."

Then he didn't say anything for a while, and we were nearly to town.

"What was that you were saying about the Cheye

"Oh, I was thinking about that elk Mary Margaret claims she saw," Uncle Seth said. "The Cheye

Margaret seen deeper and realized it was an elk. So she shot it, just like she said. If you ask her thirty years from now what she shot that day Baldy and his deputies requisitioned the mules, she'd still say she shot an elk. And if you believe like the Cheye

"But there are no elk around here," I pointed out.

"No, but there are a few left in Kansas," Uncle Seth said. "That's probably where it came from-- Kansas."

The explanation took me by surprise--I didn't know what to think about it.

"But Ma ain't a Cheye

"Women and Indians are a lot alike," Uncle Seth assured me. "In some ways they are just alike."

"Then Ma didn't lie?" I asked.

"Oh no--Mary Margaret don't lie," Uncle Seth said. "She seen an elk, just like she told the sheriff."

"You don't think it could mean Ma's crazy?" I asked.

Uncle Seth looked at me as if I was the one who might be crazy, for even considering such a thing.

"No, Mary Margaret ain't crazy, any more than the Cheye

By then we were smack in the middle of Boone's Lick, right outside the saloon.

5 WILD Bill Hickok sat at a table at the back of the saloon, smoking a thin cigar. He wore a buckskin jacket a lot like the one Pa wore, only Pa's was always filthy from buffalo grease or bear grease or something, whereas Wild Bill's looked as if it had just come from the tailor. He was playing a hand of solitaire when we walked in, his chair tilted back a little.

I guess he made it clear that he didn't want company, because there was nobody at any of the tables just in front of him. All of the customers were either crowded up at three or four tables near the front of the saloon or else were standing at the bar. Uncle Seth didn't let the empty tables stop him. "Why, hello, Seth," Mr. Hickok said, when we approached his table. "You're still keeping your plinking rifle safe from the damp, I see."

"Hello, Bill," Uncle Seth said. "This hulking lad is my nephew Sherman--

Shay for short."

To my shock Mr. Hickok settled his chair, stood up, smiled, and shook hands with me courteously.

"He's no kin of William Tecumseh Sherman, your former commander--or was he your former commander?" Uncle Seth asked.

14

"No, the little frizzy-hair terrier never got to order me around," Mr.

Hickok said. "The two of you can have a seat."

I noticed when I was taking a chair that several of the fellows crowded up in the front of the saloon were looking daggers at us--they didn't like it that we got to sit with Mr. Hickok and they just got to sit with their ugly selves. Uncle Seth didn't give them a thought.