Larry McMurtry - Comanche Moon

Just as the Captain was warming to his subject, Famous Shoes suddenly appeared, almost at the Captain's elbow. As usual, all the boys gave a start; none of them had seen the tracker approach. Even Captain Scull found Famous Shoes' suddenly appearances a little unnerving.

"I was in the camp of Buffalo Hump, he has a new wife," Famous Shoes said.

"His son took me prisoner for a while--he was the one who killed Mr. Watson. They call him "Blue Duck."' His mother was a Mexican woman who froze to death trying to get away from Buffalo Hump." Inish Scull smiled.

"You'd make a fine professor, sir," he said. "You've managed to tell us more about this scamp Blue Duck than I've been able to get across about Hannibal and his elephants. What else should I know? Has Kicking Wolf crossed the Alps with those stallions yet?" His witticism was lost on Famous Shoes, who did not particularly appreciate interruptions while trying to deliver his reports.

"Slow Tree came into camp with many warriors and many women," Famous Shoes went on. "Slow Tree wanted to kill me but Buffalo Hump will not let anybody kill me." "Whoa, that's news--why not?" Scull asked.

"I helped his grandmother die," Famous Shoes said. "I do not have to worry about Buffalo Hump." "Is that all?" Scull asked.

"You do not have to worry about Buffalo Hump either," Famous Shoes said. "He is still with Slow Tree. But Kicking Wolf is following you now." "Kicking Wolf--why, the rascal!" Scull exclaimed. "A few days ago I was following him. Why would the man we were chasing want to follow us?" "He probably wants to steal more horses," Call said. "Stealing horses is what he's good at." "It could be that, or he might mean to cut our throats," Inish Scull commented. He looked at the scout, but Famous Shoes seemed to have no opinion as to Kicking Wolf's plans.

"I didn't see him," he said. "I only saw his tracks. He has Three Birds with him." "Well, that doesn't tell me much," Scull said. "I've not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Three Birds. What kind of fellow is he?" "Three Birds is quiet--he does not speak his thoughts," Famous Shoes said. "The two of them are alone. The rest of the warriors are at the feast Buffalo Hump is giving for Slow Tree." "If it's just two of them, I say let 'em come," Augustus said. "I expect we can handle two Indians, even if one of them is Kicking Wolf." Call thought the opposite. Two Indians would be harder to detect than fifteen. It struck him as peculiar that Kicking Wolf chose to follow them just then; after all, he had just escaped with three fine stallions. They were probably better horses than any the ranger troop could boast--withthe exception of Hector, of course.

Scull strode up and down for a while, looking across the plain as if he expected to see Kicking Wolf heave into sight at any moment. But, except for two hawks soaring, there was nothing to see in any direction but grass.

"I have known Three Birds for a long time," he said. "He does not hate Kickapoos.

Once I helped him track a cougar he had shot. I think that cougar might have got away if I hadn't tracked it with him." Augustus was sometimes irked by Famous Shoes' pompous way of talking.

"I expect he's forgot about that cougar by now," he said. "He might step up and cut your throat before he could call it to mind." Famous Shoes considered the remark too absurd to reply to. Three Birds would never forget that he had helped him track the cougar, any more than Buffalo Hump would forget that he had been kind to his dying grandmother.

"Want me to see if I can surprise them, Captain?" Call asked--he was impatient with the inactivity. Talk was fine at night, but it was daytime and his horse was saddled and eager.

"You can't catch them," Famous Shoes said.

"They are following you, but they are not close, and they have better horses than you do. If you chase them they will lead you so far away that you will starve before you can get back." Call ignored the scout and looked at the Captain--he saw no reason to tolerate a hostile pursuit.

Captain Scull looked at the young man with amusement--he obviously wanted to go chase Indians, despite the scout's plain warning.

"I've been out there before and I didn't starve," Call informed him.

Scull pursed his lips but said nothing. He walked over to his saddlebags and rummaged in them until he came out with a small book. Then he walked back to the campfire, settled himself comfortably on a sack of potatoes, and held up the book, which was well used.

"Xenophon," he said. "The March of the Ten Thousand. Of course, we're only twelve men, but when I read Xenophon I can imagine that we're ten thousand." Augustus had quietly saddled up--if there was a pursuit, he wanted to be part of it.

Several other rangers began to stir themselves, pulling on their boots and looking to their guns.

"Here, stop that!" Captain Scull said suddenly, looking up from his book. "I won't send you off to chase a phantom, in country this spare. Just because Mr. Call didn't starve in it on his last visit doesn't mean he couldn't starve tomorrow--andthe rest of you too.

"There's always a first time, they say," he added.

"I expect it was some smart Greek said that, or else our own Papa Franklin." Then he paused and smiled benignly at his confused and ragged men.

"Ever hear Greek read, boys?" he asked.

"It's a fine old language--the language of Homer and Thucydides, not to mention Xenophon, who's our author today. I've a fair amount of Greek still in my head. I'll read to you, if you like, about the ten thousand men who marched home in defeat." Nobody said yes, and nobody said no. The men just stood where they were, or sat if they had not yet risen. Deets put a few more sticks on the fire.

"That's fine, the ayes have it," Captain Scull said.

He looked around with a grin, and then, sitting on the sack of potatoes, and squinting in order to see the small print of his pocket Xenophon, he read to the troop in Greek.

"That was worse than listening to a bunch of Comanches gobble at one another," Long Bill said, once the reading was over and the troop once again on the move.

"I'd rather listen to pigs squeal than to hear goings-on like that," Ikey Ripple added.

Augustus had disliked the reading as much as anyone, but the fact that Long Bill had spoken out against it rubbed him the wrong way.

"That was Greek," he reminded them haughtily. "Everybody ought to hear Greek now and then, and Latin too. I could listen all day to someone read Latin." Call knew that Augustus claimed some knowledge of Latin, but he had never been convinced by the claim.

"I doubt you know a ^w of either language," Call said. "You didn't understand that reading and neither did anybody else." Unlike the rangers, Famous Shoes had been mightily impressed by the Captain's reading. He himself could speak several dialects and follow the track of any living animal; but Captain Scull had followed an even harder and more elusive track: the tiny, intricate track that ran across the pages of the book. That Big Horse Scull could follow a little track through page after page of a book and turn what he saw into sound was a feat that never ceased to amaze the Kickapoo.

"That might be the way a god talks," he commented.

"Nope, it was just some old Greek fellow who lost a war and had to tramp back home with his ten thousand men," Augustus said.

"That's a lot of men," Call said. "I wonder how many fought on the side that won." "Why would you care, Woodrow? You didn't even like hearing Greek," Augustus pointed out.

"No," Call said, "but I can still wonder about that war."

Kicking Wolf was amused by the carelessness of Big Horse Scull, who put three men at a time to guard the rangers' horses and the two pack mules, but did not bother with guards for the Buffalo Horse. The men on guard were rotated at short intervals, too--yet Scull did not seem to think the Buffalo Horse needed watching.