Clair Huffaker - The Cowboy and the Cossack

Verushki was squinting slightly at Shad’s last few words, and Rostov said quietly, “By ‘fucking around,’ Colonel, he means meddling, or interfering.”

Verushki got the basic idea of the word, and finally said curtly, “I will not fuck about with you if you do not fuck about with me!” Then he added, “It’s unavoidable that some of my patrols may occasionally approach your camp. Should this happen in the future and you do not use more restraint, you will regret it.”

With this he spoke one harsh word to his cossacks, then turned abruptly and stalked back into the building. The dozen or so men stayed where they were, and one of them yelled something toward a big stable at the end of the square.

As I stepped back to Buck to remount, there were shouted orders from inside the stable, and almost immediately a huge bunch of Imperial Cossacks came galloping out of the wide double doors. For a spooky minute I thought we were about to be massacred, but from the way they were riding, in order, Shad seemed to know that something else was going on, and Rostov’s face was a little sad underneath its outside hardness.

As I swung aboard Buck there were other shouted commands and the Imperial Cossacks lined up around the square, all of them facing in toward the center. Then one last rider came barreling through the door with a rope stretched tightly out behind him. At the end of the rope, dragging and bouncing along the ground like a damnere shapeless bundle of bloody, torn old rags, was a man. He was conscious but could just barely move. Judging from the hideously ripped skin on his back he must have been whipped half to death.

“Let’s go,” Rostov said quietly.

We went across the square at an angle, walking our horses.

Neither Shad nor Rostov did, but I couldn’t help glancing back. Despite the blood already caked on his face, I could see that that shapeless bundle of a man was the young officer who’d first spoken to Rostov on the first night we’d come into town. In the center of the square, four men now lifted him face up under the gray mare. Then, with the same rope they’d been dragging him with, they started lashing him into place underneath the horse.

As we finally rode out of the square, one of the four men let go of the gray’s reins and whacked it on the butt, giving a loud yell so that it galloped away, frightened by all that had happened, and even more terrified by the strange load it was carrying under its stomach.

It got to me. Just now, especially right on top of burying those two men, the whole damn world suddenly seemed to be nothing but plain downright horrible.

From Shad’s and Rostov’s expressions when I spurred ahead to catch up with them, they both knew what had happened.

“Jesus!” I muttered, hardly believing what I’d seen. “All that f’r fallin’ off a goddamned horse ?”

“Evidently,” Rostov said dryly, “Verushki is an unusually strict disciplinarian.” Then, seeing the way I looked, he added, “The gray will finally come back to the stable, and they’ll cut him down. He’ll probably survive. Don’t let what happened disturb you too much, Levi. In his own warped way, that’s certainly one of the things Verushki was hoping for.”

Shad looked at me, knowing that the brutal punishment had gotten to me. He grinned slightly and said, “Every damn thing that poor bastard does t’ show us how rough he is somehow backfires an’ winds up makin’ us rougher instead. Right, Levi?”

They were both kind of coddling me and I resented it and appreciated it, but damn well had to make myself be worth a lot more. So I forced that bloody bundle of human agony back in my thoughts and worked up my own grin. “I’ll drink t’ that, boss.”

“Drink all ya’ want, but just watch out f’r that girl.”

I knew he was pulling me up even farther by getting on to something breezy and light. “Why?” I asked him.

“Because you’re a goddamn virgin.”

“The hell I am! And besides, that can’t last forever!”

Rostov now grinned faintly too. “With that girl, in this town, Levi may lose his virginity or his life. Or perhaps both at the same time, which would be interesting.”

THE THREE of us dismounted and tied up in front of The Far East next to the other five horses belonging to our men. A step or so behind, I clumped across the wooden walk after Shad and Rostov and we went into the place.

There was almost no one in the whole big room. Our five men were at that same big table toward the rear where we’d sat before. They were just waiting, with no drinks before them yet. As they saw us, Ilya stopped playing a soft little tune on his Russian guitar. There were three or four men sitting quietly around closer to the door and the front windows. Other than that, the only person in the room was that older woman who looked tough but really wasn’t. As we started back toward our group I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment somewhere inside. I hadn’t realized how much I’d hoped Irenia would be here, just so I could maybe at least look at her once in a while.

The woman, her eyes becoming friendly and warm within her deep-creased, hardened old face, came over to take our order from Rostov as we sat down. Then she talked to him in a low, urgent voice for a moment before leaving. Igor was nodding gravely during this, as though he already knew what was going on.

When she left, Dixie said, “There ain’t been not one single Tzar cossack show ’is nose around here! They must be scared shitless of us, Shad!”

But Shad was watching Rostov and Igor, who were now speaking in low, intense voices in Russian. Ilya and Yuri were listening, quiet and thoughtful.

Natcho smiled. “Were they grateful to get that gray mare of theirs back?”

Shad still didn’t answer, and I began to get the same feeling I guess he had, that something that mattered was being talked about.

Then Rostov turned to us. “The old woman, Anna, is a friend. From what she’s been telling us, we may be in luck.”

“That’d sure be a welcome change,” Shad said.

“The crest of the Amur went down nearly fourteen centimeters last night.”

“What’s that in American?” Dixie frowned.

“Over five inches,” Rostov told him.

“Keeps goin’ down like that,” Shad said, “we oughtta be able t’ cross ’er in three, four days.”

At this point Natcho looked off and smiled appreciatively, his perfect teeth gleaming in his deeply tanned face. I turned and reacted as I saw Irenia coming through the door toward us carrying a tray with glasses and vodka on it.

“Hey, Levi,” Dixie said, “better shut y’r mouth b’fore somebody comes along an’ steps on your jaw.”

I almost snarled a fitting reply back at Dixie, but she was getting too close, and I didn’t want her to get the wrong impression of me. So I just gave Dixie a murderous glance and closed my mouth.

Then she was at the table, smiling that beautiful dimpled smile of hers as she placed glasses for us. She was still wearing her same red-checkered tablecloth dress, and it still looked as fresh and clean as it had before. It occurred to me that she probably washed and dried it every night.

She smiled at me and nodded and Dixie said, “By God, Levi’s blushin’!”

I wasn’t, but when he said I was, it got me started, and despite trying desperately to control that terrible reaction, I could feel my face getting fiercely hot and flushed. Powerless to say even one word just then, I clenched my teeth and managed to nod back at Irenia.

And then, with or without meaning to, Ilya saved me from dying of sheer mortification right on the spot. He struck up a quick, lively tune and sang a very short, happy song to Irenia. It was only a few lines, but it must have also been kind of funny because as he stopped she giggled, putting her hand over her mouth, and hurried back out of the room.