Clair Huffaker - The Cowboy and the Cossack

And then Yakolev called a name that sure as hell threw me.

“Marvin Samuel Shapiro!”

A bunch of us looked at each other, kind of puzzled, and then Sammy the Kid stepped forward.

“That’s me,” he said.

“This name is Jewish,” Yakolev said, saying it so it sounded like “Ziss name’s Hooish.” But I don’t even want to bother about the way he talked anymore.

“You’re damn right it’s Jewish,” Sammy said. “And so am I.”

“Then you admit it!” Yakolev seemed pleased at finally finding a name he could, in his own mind, legitimately find some fault with. He repeated it, shaking his head. “Marvin Samuel Shapiro. For your own safety, I cannot allow you into Russia.”

Shad had been just about ready to fight for some time, and now he leaned forward, knuckles down, on the table where Yakolev was sitting. His voice was low. “These men have all been given clearance by my country and by your consulate. With these papers, you cannot refuse us entrance.”

Yakolev raised his hands up in mock concern. “But I cannot, in my small authority, guarantee this man’s safety.”

“I’ll take my chances with my friends,” Sammy said.

“You can’t guarantee any safety for any of us!” Shad stood back from the table, his jaw muscles tight and hard. “We’re taking our cattle over a thousand miles into Russia, and your ‘small authority’ won’t last half a mile out of Vladivostok.”

“But I do rule here.” Yakolev smiled his smile that looked like he was ready to bite something. “Perhaps if we talked about it privately.”

Shad leaned on the table again. Now his voice was not only low, but deadly. “I will not pay you one goddamn penny, mister!”

Yakolev said quickly, “I did not suggest that!”

Shad tensed forward, like a mountain lion about to spring. “Those Sea Papers are in order.”

“Yes.” Yakolev stood nervously, moving away from the table to where his two men were waiting near the railing. “The papers are in order. Your men and animals can enter the port of Vladivostok and go into Russia.”

“Good,” Captain Barum said, relieved. “We’ll arrange to dock immediately.”

Yakolev started toward the rope ladder, then turned back before he answered. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.” He looked at Shad, his eyes malicious under those two thick eyebrows. “As Harbor Master, you have my permission to enter—sometime.” Then he looked at the captain. “In my judgment, the bad seas are too heavy for you to put in tonight. Serious damage could happen in docking, to your ship and my wharf. Perhaps tomorrow—or the next day.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow!” Captain Barum protested.

“It may be many days, or weeks.” Yakolev rubbed a thick eyebrow.

“You know I can’t wait here indefinitely!”

Yakolev raised his shoulders helplessly. “That is your decision, Captain.” Then he turned quickly and hurried down the ladder, his two men following.

There was a long silence as Yakolev’s men rowed away from the Great Eastern Queen. Finally Shad said, “Could you dock your ship in there all right, Captain?”

Barum nodded, his face grim. “Certainly I could. But not without his permission.”

“What the hell we gonna do now, boss?” Slim asked.

“There’s only one thing you can do,” Captain Barum said. “I’ll take you back to Japan on the Queen— no extra tariff. And you can make whatever plans about your cattle and getting back to America from there.”

“Our outfit’s been paid t’ deliver a herd a’ longhorns a thousand miles into Siberia,” Shad said quietly, “and we’re gonna deliver ’em.

“I tell you I can’t put ashore!” Captain Barum’s voice showed how bad he felt about the whole thing.

“I know you can’t put the Queen ashore,” Shad said. Then one side of his mouth muscled very slightly in the half grin, half frown he showed sometimes when he was thinking. “But we can get our longhorns onto the beach just outside town.”

“How?” I asked. “Us and five hundred head gonna fly?”

“No.” He turned to me. “But if any of our men or cattle haven’t learned how t’ swim, they damn well better learn fast when they hit that water.”

PERSONALLY, I wasn’t all too keen about getting into that black surging water in the middle of the night and swimming to a shore you couldn’t even see from where we were. But when Shad called the men on deck together and told them about jumping off the ship, I seemed overjoyed compared to some of the others.

“Water is only to drink,” Big Yawn said with heavy finality, “not t’ get in.”

“Ain’t never swam a stroke in m’ life,” Rufus Hooker muttered. “Wouldn’t be much good t’ anybody if I wuz drowned an’ dead.”

“This is the way it’s gonna be,” Shad said. “Barum’s men’ll row our supplies ashore in small boats. Any man afraid of the water can go with ’em. But we’ll need about every hand we can get t’ drive those cattle t’ land through the dark.”

“But Christ, boss,” Rufus complained, “if a fella can’t swim—”

“You’ll be on horseback, Rufe, and your horse can swim,” Shad told him. “Just don’t let Bobtail’s nose or eyes go under water, and don’t let him turn belly-up under you. Either way he’ll panic and likely kick your head off. And if you do get unseated, grab ahold of his tail and he’ll pull you to shore.”

Rufus thought about this, frowning sadly.

Crab Smith took off his hat and scratched his head. “We’d follow you most damn anywhere, Shad, but I doubt if more’n half of us can swim more’n a doggy paddle. The water’s ice-cold an’ black as hell, and the idea of goin’ into it just plain scares me shitless! Maybe you ain’t scared of it, but—” His voice trailed off.

“I know it’s spooky.” There was a quiet understanding in Shad’s voice. “So take a boat, Crab.”

Sammy the Kid said flatly, “I don’t know about him, but I’m damn well takin’ a boat, and that’s that.”

Shad nodded slightly. “No fault taken, Kid. So be it.”

I had a sneaking hunch that Slim already knew the answer to the question he asked Shad now. “Can you swim, boss?”

Shad shook his head just once. “No.”

“Well, that’s sure good enough for me,” Slim said. “I ain’t about t’ take no boat then if you ain’t.” He turned to Crab. “Hell, we’re both at least a year past due for a bath anyhow.”

Crab put his hat back on. “Okay, Shad,” he said unhappily, “I’ll go. But I still don’t like it.”

Sammy the Kid turned and went over to the railing, his back to the rest of us.

Shiny Joe called out, “Link an’ me can swim like catfish. We can keep an eye out f’r Crab an’ some a’ them who can’t.”

Natcho was sitting in the chair that Yakolev had been using. He looked up now and smiled, his gleaming white teeth brilliant in contrast to his deeply tanned face and blue-black hair. “In Tampico I learned to swim before I could walk. And Chakko here is a strong swimmer too.”

Chakko nodded.

“With luck maybe we can make shore,” Old Keats said. “The thing I’m worried about is the cold. There’s still chunks of ice in that water. And it’s a good three-hundred-yard haul. A man could freeze.”

“I’ll be the first one in, and I’ll let you know if it can be stood,” Shad said. “Doubt it’ll kill us. But my guess is it’ll be invigoratin’ as hell.”

“Now that you got us humans convinced about how much sheer fun this swim is gonna be,” Slim said, “what I’m wonderin’ is, just how’re we gonna convince them longhorns t’ join along with us too?”