Charles West - Lawless Prairie

Satisfied that he had a field of fire covering a hundred and eighty degrees, he laid the Henry on top of the rock where it would be handy if he got caught with not enough time to reload his Winchester. Ready for the assault, he waited.

After glancing briefly at the woman sitting at the bottom of the ravine to make sure she was all right, he shifted his gaze quickly back to the warriors bearing down on him. He was confident in his accuracy with his rifle, but he waited for the Sioux warriors to advance to within one hundred yards, knowing that he could not miss at that distance, even with a moving target. The warriors were not as patient and opened fire when still a good way beyond that distance.

At the bottom of the ravine, Joanna flinched when she heard the zip of a rifle slug pass overhead, and the cracks of the rifles. Frightened, she looked up above her at the man who had promised to take her home. Only moments before, he had been scurrying around, hastily loading his weapons, securing the horses, then scrambling up the slope. Now he seemed almost serene, patiently watching the approaching danger as rifle slugs teased the air around him. She could not help but find reassurance in the calm confidence of the man, and she somehow knew that, six or six hundred savages, he would find a way to protect her. With a new sense of confidence, she banished her feelings of fear and concerned herself with holding the horses.

Still holding his fire, Clint watched the progress of the charging warriors, anticipating their plan of assault. It was obvious to him that the four near the center of their arc were intent upon laying down a blistering rain of fire to keep him pinned down—while the two at each end hoped to flank him, or even circle behind him. With that in mind, the first targets he selected were the flanking riders. He would be in serious trouble if they got behind him. While bullets ricocheted off the rock and ripped up the dirt around it, he continued to hold his fire.

When the Indians reached a spot on the prairie he had mentally selected, he rose slightly and unhurriedly took careful aim. The Winchester spoke with solid certainty, and the warrior on the left flank tumbled from the saddle. Without hesitation, but with no haste, he turned and sighted on the rider on the opposite flank with the same results. The sudden deadly response stopped the warriors’ charge, causing the four remaining to scatter for safety. Acting quickly now, Clint knocked two more of the raiders out of their saddles before they were able to retreat. The last two galloped away to safety.

He figured the Sioux warriors would not try that again, but he knew you could never be sure about Indians. So while there was time, he hurried down the slope to Joanna. “Get mounted,” he said. “We’ve got some time now to reach those hills.” As soon as he secured the extra weapons, he led her out of the ravine and headed toward the hills to the east at a gentle lope. The horses still needed rest, but he figured he would take care of that as soon as they reached the security of the foothills.

Having been unable to see what was taking place above her, Joanna was startled to see the bodies scattered about in the sage and short grass prairie. She had only heard four shots from his rifle, and she counted four bodies. Two of the riderless horses stood watching them while the other two galloped off in the general direction the retreating Sioux had taken. When Clint led them out again, the two Indian ponies that had remained followed along behind them for a few hundred yards before stopping to watch the two riders. Clint pulled up and turned back to look at the Indian ponies. Though he hadn’t wished to be burdened with extra horses before, it now occurred to him that it would be worth the trouble for a start in Montana.

“Wait here,” he told Joanna, and rode back to the standing horses. He had a hunch that if he led one of them, a mare, that the other would follow, so using the reins as a rope, he slipped them around the mare’s neck and tied the other end to his packhorse. The mare went along obediently, and after hesitating to make up its mind, the other horse followed the mare. When he caught up with Joanna again, he said, “Might as well start buildin’ a herd.”

Ahead of her, sitting tall in the saddle, his lean body riding easy with the motion of the buckskin gelding, the miracle she had prayed for while a captive led his horses toward a line of wooded ridges. She thought of her husband and couldn’t help but compare. She could not imagine Robert under similar circumstances. She promptly reproached herself for comparing them. It wasn’t fair to Robert. Her thoughts went then to her father and her husband, her father grieving over the loss of her mother. They must both be sick with worry about me , she thought. What if we find our way back to the cabin? They may be off looking for me.

Karl Steiner stood beside the grave of his beloved wife, Sarah. He was still unable to look at the grave without seeing images of her crushed skull, but he needed to talk to someone about the feelings that were troubling his mind. “I miss you so much, darlin’,” he blurted between the tears that started. “I don’t know if I can make it without you.” He turned to look back at the cabin to make sure Robert couldn’t hear him. “I’m goin’ to go look for Joanna if I have to search every Sioux camp in the territory.” He paused to think about what he had just vowed. Robert was not set on venturing out to Powder River country. Maybe he was right; maybe it was suicide, but Karl could not sit there and do nothing when his daughter was a captive in some Indian village—if in fact she was still alive. It was hard to know what to do. Robert was right about one thing, there were so many Indian camps and villages in the Powder River valley alone that odds were astronomical they would happen upon the one where Joanna was held. His daughter had always been a spunky girl, even as a child, and he had a small glimmer of hope that she might escape her captors and return home. This slim possibility was the only reason Karl was still delaying his search for her.

Robert Becker sat at the table and contemplated the circumstances in which he now found himself. The entire plan to pan for gold had been an unlucky and disappointing venture for him. The Indians didn’t want them there. Even the army wanted them to leave, and yet he had let Joanna talk him into continuing the ill-fated venture after leaving French Creek. His enthusiasm for the prospect of striking it rich had been dulled considerably by the hard work it required. And now the threat of Indian attacks caused him to fear for his life.

He sipped his coffee, now lukewarm in the metal cup, thinking about the last time he had seen his wife. He missed Joanna, but it amounted to certain death if he and Karl tried to find her. It irritated him that he could not make the old man understand that. Karl even thought that she still might escape and return to them. That thought troubled Robert. How many Sioux bucks had already had their way with her? The idea of it turned Robert cold inside, and he was not sure he would ever be able to overcome that disgusting truth. How could he ever take her into his bed again after she had been ruined by the savages? The mental picture of it seared his brain, and he admitted to himself that he did not want her back. He made his decision then. He was going back to Omaha, this quest for gold be damned.

There was no use trying to explain his feelings to his father-in-law. Karl was too set in his ways to understand that it served no good purpose to sacrifice another young life after the loss of Joanna. He would say nothing about his decision to Karl tonight, but would pack up his things and leave in the morning.

Morning brought a chilly breeze sweeping across the eastern slopes of the mountains. Robert was up early and packing his saddlebags when Karl came out to find him. “Mornin’,” he said. “You’re up early.” When Robert nodded without speaking, the old man asked, “You thinking it’s time we went looking for Joanna?” He guessed that Robert wasn’t thinking about working the sluice box. They hadn’t worked since Joanna’s abduction.