Larry McMurtry - Comanche Moon

"My wives will feed you and then you can go," Buffalo Hump said, to Famous Shoes.

"I had that fat duck, I don't need to eat," Famous Shoes said. "I had better go look for Big Horse Scull before he gets lost." "Kicking Wolf is following him now too," Buffalo Hump remarked casually. "He wants to steal the Buffalo Horse." "I better go," Famous Shoes said. The news he had just heard shocked him badly. Big Horse Scull had been following Kicking Wolf, but now it was the other way around. Of course Kicking Wolf was already a famous horse thief, but stealing the Buffalo Horse would be a powerful act. If Kicking Wolf could steal the Buffalo Horse his people would sing about him for many years.

Famous Shoes changed his mind about eating, though. One fat duck wouldn't last him forever, and Buffalo Hump's wives had made a stew with a good smell to it. He squatted and ate a big bowl full, while Buffalo Hump sat patiently on his robe, listening to old Slow Tree brag about how happy he made his wives.

Jake came in the door, avoided Felice's eye, turned into the hall, and started up the stairs only to find old Ben Mickelson planted squarely in his way.

Jake despised old Ben, for being a disgusting, profane, purple-lipped old drunkard, but he .was the Sculls' butler and it was necessary to be polite to him.

It was necessary but it wasn't easy: old Ben was looking at Jake with a mean gleam in his watery blue eyes.

"Not today, you don't, you damned lout!" Ben Mickelson said.

Jake thought he must have misheard. Every day for three weeks he had hurried up to the Scull living quarters and been welcomed ardently by the lady of the house. Yesterday she had been particularly ardent--Inez Scull straddled him on the chaise longue and bounced so vigorously that the chaise broke. Then she dragged Jake onto the couch and continued no less vigorously. By the time Madame Scull quieted down, every piece of furniture that had a flat surface had been made use of in their sport.

So why was old Ben Mickelson barring his access to the stairs?

"Mind your ^ws, Ben, if you don't want a licking," Jake said--it occurred to him, for a moment, that the Captain might be back, but if the Captain was back the boys would be back too, and he hadn't seen them.

"Not today, you ain't going up, and not tomorrow and not the next day and not the next week and not the next month and not ever!" old Ben said, the ^ws bursting out of his mouth like gobbets of bile.

"But what's wrong?" Jake asked, confused.

"Nothing's wrong--y just be gone now. We don't need to be seeing the likes of you around the big house again." Jake wanted to grab the old man by his scrawny neck and shake him good, but he didn't quite dare. Something .was wrong, he just didn't know what. Yesterday Madame Scull had called him "Jakie," and could hardly wait to get out his little pricklen, as she called it. But today Ben Mickelson stood on the stairs looking at him in a gloating way.

"Begone," Ben said, again. "I'll be calling the sheriff on you if you don't. The sheriff will know what to do with a lout like you, I guess." Jake was confused and disappointed. He knew the old butler hadn't just decided to dismiss him on his own authority, because he had no authority. He might curse the kitchen girls and pinch them under the stairs, but he was only a butler.

Jake knew that if he wasn't allowed up it was because Madame Scull didn't want him up--but why? He had tried to be cooperative, no matter what wild game Inez Scull suggested; and some of her games went far beyond the bounds of anything he had ever supposed he would be doing, in his life. But he had done them, and Madame Scull had yelled and kicked with pleasure. So why was the old butler now planted in his way?

"All right, Ben," Jake said, feeling deflated. He wandered back into the kitchen, where Felice was churning butter. She didn't look up, when he came in--Felice was careful never to raise her eyes to him, anymore. But now he felt lonely--he had been turned out. He would have liked a smile from Felice; he had a sense that she felt he had treated her bad, though he had only done what he had been told to do by the Captain's wife. Felice had no cause to turn her head every time he entered the room.

"Well, I guess the Missus ain't up," he said, idling for a moment. "I'd sure like a glass of buttermilk before I go to work." Felice got up without a ^w and poured him a tumbler full of buttermilk from the big crock where they kept it. Captain Scull too liked buttermilk--he had been known to drink off a quart, on days when he came in with a thirst for buttermilk.

Jake thanked Felice, thinking it might melt her reserve, but Felice went back to her churning without even a nod.

Jake was sitting on the back step, drinking buttermilk and wondering what he could find to do all day, when Inez Scull strode out of the house. She had on her riding habit and was pulling on a glove. When she saw Jake sitting on the step with the tumbler of buttermilk she did not look pleased.

"Who told you to sit on my stoop and guzzle my buttermilk?" she asked, her black eyes snapping. Jake was taken aback by her look, which was icy, and her tone, which was hot. He jumped to his feet in embarrassment.

"I suppose you got the buttermilk from that yellow bitch," she said. "I'll quirt her soundly when I get back." "Why, the crock was full, I thought I could drink one glass," Jake said, very nervous.

"That's the Captain's buttermilk, it's not for common use," Inez said. "I instructed the butler to inform you that we didn't need you around here anymore. I suppose I'll have to whack that old sot a time or two, if he forgot to tell you." "He told me, I was just resting a minute," Jake said, confused by the coldness in Madame Scull's tone. Only yesterday she had pressed hot affections on him--td she acted as if she scarcely knew him.

"Get off my step, I told you," Inez said. "I don't want you around here--and stay away from that yellow bitch, too. I don't want you indulging in any irregularities with the servants." Madame Scull poked him, not gently, with the toe of her riding boot. Jake jumped up and hurried down the steps. Then he remembered that he still had the tumbler in his hand.

"I thought you liked me!" he blurted out.

Madame Scull's lip curled. "Like you?

A common thing such as yourself? I've stooped to many follies but I doubt I'd allow myself to like a common farm boy," she said.

Jake sat the tumbler on the step, where Felice would find it and take it in.

He was walking slowly and sadly back down the main street of Austin, trying to puzzle out why he had been welcome one day and shunned the next, when he heard a horse galloping close behind him. Madame Scull was coming, on her fine thoroughbred, Lord Nelson. The horse was worth as much as a house, some of the rangers claimed.

Two men stood guard over Lord Nelson, all night, at the Scull stables, lest Indians try to sneak in and steal him. Madame Scull raced Lord Nelson over the prairies at full speed, usually alone.

As Inez Scull came abreast of Jake she drew rein and ran her quirt lightly through his hair, which she herself had just cut, the day before, with her scissors, after their sweaty sport.

"It was the curls, Jakie," Inez said, the ice still in her voice. She flicked her quirt again through his short hair.

"The curls," she said. "I suppose I found them briefly appealing. But then I cut them off. So that's all done now, ain't it?" Then she put the spurs to Lord Nelson and went galloping straight out of town.

Kicking Wolf could move without sound. When he decided to steal the Buffalo Horse he only took Three Birds with him--except for himself, Three Birds was the quietest warrior in the band. Fast Boy and Red Badger were brave fighters, but clumsy. They could not approach a horse herd in the soundless way that was required if a tricky theft was being contemplated. Kicking Wolf prayed every night that he could keep his grace with animals--few Comanches could go into a horse herd at night without alarming the horses.