The Ferguson Rifle

"A lot of white men think the Injun is dead set against them because they're white. Nothing to it.

An Injun will kill another Injun as quick as he will a white man, except that the white man may have more loot on him." "They've had it pretty good, Davy. The best hunting in the world, no taxes to pay, and a lot of country to move around in." "Uh-huh"--Shanagan chuckled--"t's your Boston showin'. What you don't figure on is that you folks yonder in civilization have yourvs nicely protected by the law and custom.

Out here you've got no protection but a quick eye, a fast horse, and the ability to shoot straight.

"That free savage that folks talk about, he never leaves his camp but what somebody is likely to take his hair." After that neither of us spoke for some time. My own thoughts strayed far afield. These broad plains must resemble those from which the wild riding Scythians migrated when they moved west and south from Central Asia. They took scalps as well, although they worked with metal and were in many ways further advanced than the American Indian.

Out of Central Asia our own people had come.

or perhaps from the lands east of the Danube or Don.

The question is disputed, but my own inclination is toward Central Asia. Among those migrating tribes were the Celts and we who moved farthest to the west, we Irish, Welsh, and Bretons still kept some of the old beliefs, the old customs.

Since the begi

Over the mountains from the coastal provinces, filtering down the slopes, floating down the rivers, some dying, some living, many killed by savages, but the dead were always replaced by others.

There was no end to them.

I had seen them on the Monongahela and the Ohio, floating their rafts down stream, finding homes in Illinois, Missouri, or going on to Texas.

Here and there I heard talk of Oregon, and of California. Once a man has made that first move, once he has cast off his moorings, his associations, broken with his school, his church, his village store, and his relatives, it is easy to continue on. It is always easier to travel than to stop.

As long as one travels toward a promised land, the dream is there, to stop means to face the reality, and it is easier to dream than to realize the dream.

"You spoke of the Injuns awhile back, their hunting, and all. Hunting is all right when there's game, but the game drifts when the climate changes, and during the winter there's no berries or nuts or seeds to be had, so grub can be mighty hard to come by." "You're right, of course. But they did smoke meat, and some of the Indians planted corn and squash." "You bet they did, but Injuns aren't much hand to put by. I lived among 'em a time or two when their bellies were empty and the papooses cried themselves to sleep. It took a lot of grub to get them through the winter, and I reckon no tribe ever had enough." Remembering my own early years, I could only agree. Many a time before I had the Ferguson rifle, we had gone hungry, and there'd been a few times after. More than once I'd hiked miles through the wet woods hunting something when all the animals had laid up to wait out the storm.

Suddenly, Shanagan pulled up, pointing.

The tracks of several riders of unshod ponies had passed diagonally across our route, and not long since. They had drawn up here, watching our party go by.

"We'd better be gettin' back." Davy took a look around, then we raced our horses across the flat to get back to the others. Solomon Talley rode to meet us.

"They heard our shootin'," Davy said. "They could never have missed it, but they didn't attack even when they knew our guns were empty." Cusbe Ebitt spat. "They want us all together, and at the right time." "Likely," Heath agreed. He glanced at the antelope. "Two shots, two kills.

That's prime!" "Don't worry none about Chantry," Shanagan told them. "His was a ru

"You got to see it their way," Davy said. "To an Injun our outfit would make him a mighty rich man. One ambush, and they ride home loaded with powder, shot, traps, blankets, rifles, and horses, to say nothing of our trifles." Ahead of us was a knoll where a fringe of woodland came up out of a stream bed and crested the knoll. There were a few granite boulders around.

We spread out into a skirmish line and rode up the slope. There was a spring flowing from under a boulder, several cottonwood trees, and one huge fallen one. There was a little brush.

Only the Otoe hung back. "No good," he said. "Bad spirits here." "Looks all right to me," Bob Sandy said.

We walked our horses into the little hollow atop the knoll. On our north side, the ground fell steeply away into a coulee where our spring's water trickled away to join a small stream.

A more perfect camping place could not be found, but no ashes of campfires existed. There were many evidences of antelope, buffalo, and even wild horses about, and no bones to indicate a poison spring. Such springs were rare, but I had heard of some with arsenic in the water, and others with numerous minerals in suspension that might upset the human organism.

Talley swung down and tasted the water.

"Hell, there's nothing wrong with that. I never tasted better." "No good," the Otoe insisted. He gestured sweepingly. "No like. Bad place for Indian." Deg Kemble prowled about while Ebitt rode out along the ridge above the stream. On all three sides but that of the stream we would have an excellent field of fire with protection from a natural mound of earth that banked the source of the spring on three sides. On the other the fallen log offered an equally fine breastwork. The space within was perhaps thirty yards by twenty, ample for ourselves and our horses.

The Otoe hung back. Obviously he wanted no part of the place.

Talley stopped by where I still sat my horse.

"You are an educated man, Chantry. What do you make of him?" "There seem to be two possibilities. One that he didn't intend to bring us here because the place is too good a position to defend, in case he's pla

"Other Indians may have found the bodies, dead but with no marks upon them, and would immediately assume evil spirits had been at work. After all, Kemble, it's only a few years since we were doing the same thing." "Makes sense. Anyway, I'm for stayin'.

You agree?" "I do." Later I wondered if my advice was sound.

No one among us was the leader. Each had his abilities, each contributed in his own way.