William Johnstone - Butchery of the Mountain Man

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The Greatest Western Writer Of The 21st CenturyIn Montana Territory, one name above all others strikes fear and hatred in the hearts of the Crow Indians--John Jackson, better known these days as Liver-Eating Jackson. Consumed by grief and rage, the mountain man has brutally killed ten braves so far in his one-man war of vengeance against the Crow, who murdered his beloved wife. Smoke Jensen knows Jackson by another name--"friend." He's not sure to what extent Jackson's exploits are true--devastating loss and frontier savagery have certainly driven lesser men mad. While doing some trapping in the territory, Smoke hears that twenty of the Crow's most fearsome warriors have banded together to hunt down their nemesis. Without a second thought, he rushes to his old friend's aid. But even with Smoke Jensen at his side, the fierce and fearless Liver-Eating Jackson may not be able to beat the odds this time. . .

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“I have counted coups! I have counted coups!” he shouted, proudly.

“Claire, where do we go now?” John asked quietly.

“They will lead us to the place of the village council,” Claire replied.

Almost immediately, two men came up, and one took the bridle of John’s horse in hand, as the other took the bridle of Claire’s horse. The two men led them through the camp until they stopped in front of a teepee. There was a council fire and several men were sitting around the fire. One was sitting by himself, just in front of the teepee opening, making it obvious that he was the head.

“That is Iron Bull,” Claire said.

John held up his hand. “I come in peace, Iron Bull.”

Ta картинка 7ya картинка 8yahípi,” Iron Bull replied.

“He welcomes us.”

Iron Bull spoke again.

“He asks that you join the council, but I cannot, as I am a woman.”

“Tell him I must have you beside me, because you are my words.”

Claire translated John’s words.

Iron Bull nodded, and made a motion indicating Claire could join them.

“Philamayaye ,” Claire replied, thanking him.

“Tell him that we come from the soldier chief. That the white man wants to live in peace with his Indian brothers.”

Claire translated, then Iron Bull spoke, and she gasped.

“What is it? What did he say?”

“He said that you have killed some of his people. That you, and one called Smoke have killed Crow.”

“That is true, but only because we were attacked by Crow. That is why we are here now, to make peace so that our people will not kill each other anymore.”

“You have come to me in peace, and you may leave in peace. But there can be no peace between us.”

“What do you think, Claire? Do you think there is any chance in getting him to change his mind?”

“I will ask,” she replied, then, to Iron Bull.

“Great Chief, how strong is your conviction that there can be no peace?”

“It is very strong. Why do you live with a white man?”

“I was sold to a white man, by my own people. It was not my choice.”

“Were you sold to this man?”

“No. John Jackson is a good man. I came to him because I wanted to. This baby is our baby. I wanted to have our baby.”

“The baby is white.”

“The baby is white and Indian. It is a fine baby, and it is a symbol of peace between the Indian and the white man.”

“You may leave the village in peace. But after you have left, there can be no peace.”

Claire turned to her husband. “I think we must go now,” she said. “We can do no more, here.”

“All right,” John said. “If that is what you think.”

“Iron Bull, have we your word that we can leave without fear?”

“My word is good only as far as the village,” Iron Bull replied. “After you leave the village, there will be no peace.”

“Oh!” Claire said.

“Claire, what is it?”

“John, we must go, now.”

John stood, then took the baby, and with Claire moved slowly and deliberately to their horses.

“Tie the baby in very tightly,” Claire said. “For after we leave the village, we must ride as fast as we can ride.”

“Claire, what is it? What did he say?”

“He said we are safe only until we are out of the village. Then we will be in great danger.”

They rode quietly out of the village then, when they were clear of the village, someone shouted something.

“John! He said we must run!” Claire said.

Quickly they broke into a gallop, riding as fast as they could. Behind them they heard the cries and calls of Indians in pursuit, and when John looked around he saw several mounted Indians chasing them.

“In there!” John said, pointing to a narrow draw, as arrows flew by them.

The draw was so narrow that only one horse at a time could pass, and that was good, because that meant that only one Indian at time could be in pursuit.

Claire and the baby went in first with John behind them. He knew this draw well because he had been trapped here last winter. He knew where it came out, and he also knew that if they could make it out the other end, he could seal it off so that the pursuing Indians couldn’t get through.

Pulling his rifle from the saddle sheath, John twisted around in the saddle, raised the Henry to his shoulder, aimed, and fired at the horse the Indian was riding. The horse went down, throwing its rider over its head. The dead horse had the effect of blocking off the draw. That brought the Indians behind to a complete stop, enabling John and Claire to put a little more distance between them.

One Indian managed to get through, and he galloped after them. This time John shot at the rider, rather than the horse and that bought them enough time to make it all the way through to the other end.

“Keep going!” John yelled. “I’m going to stop them here!”

John dismounted, then climbed up to the top of the opening. There, using his rifle as a lever, he managed to roll a rock loose, which had the effect of starting others down, until there was a rockslide of sufficient quantity to block up the entire pass.

Climbing back down he stayed just outside the blocked-up pass for a few minutes to make sure none of the Indians were able to get through, then satisfied that he had stopped them, he remounted and joined Claire, who was half a mile away.

By now their horses were panting hard.

“We need to dismount and walk them for a while,” John said.

“Do we go back home, now?” Claire asked.

“Yes, but first we should go by the fort to tell Major Clinton that we didn’t have any luck with our peace mission.”

“But you don’t need me,” Claire said. “I want to go home.” She smiled. “I want to make a soup with vegetables from our garden.”

“All right, you and Kirby go on home. I’ll stop by the fort to see Major Clinton, then I’ll come on home.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.”

“I will have soup ready for you. It will be a very good soup.”

“I’ve no doubt but that it will,” John said. He leaned over toward her, and kissed her. “Going to Rendezvous and finding you, is the best thing I ever did in my entire life.”

By now the horses had resumed their normal breathing.

“I think we can ride them now,” he said. “You go on home, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Thechíhila,” Claire said.

Thechíhila.” John replied. Lakota for “I love you,” it was one of the first Lakota phrases John learned.

Fort Shaw, Montana

“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Jackson,” Major Clinton said. “I was rather hoping that we might be able to come to some kind of an accommodation with them.”

“I’m sorry as well,” John replied.

“You can use the same quarters tonight and start home tomorrow.”

“No, my wife and child have already gone home. I promised I would be back tonight.”

Major Clinton laughed. “Well, I can’t say as I blame you. I do thank you for your effort, even if it wasn’t successful.”

Before he left, John went into the sutler’s store, where he bought a straw hat with a wide brim for Claire to wear as she worked in the garden. He was sure she would like it. He also bought some chocolate, and a small toy horse for Kirby. Kirby was too young to be able to appreciate it now, but he was sure that he would within another few years.

He thought about his friend Smoke, and thought he would be pleased to know that there was someone named for him.

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