Mcmurtry Larry - Dead Man's Walk стр 5.

Nonsense, Gomez is Apache, the Major said.

Bigfoot didnt answer. He knew that Gomez was Apache, and that Apache didnt ride with Comanche—that was not the normal order of things. Still, he had dreamed what he dreamed. If Major Chevallie didnt enjoy hearing about it, he could sip his coffee and keep quiet.

The whole troop fell silent for a moment. Just hearing the names of the two terrible warriors was enough to make the Rangers reflect on the uncertainties of their calling, which were considerable.

I dont like that part about the guts, Long Bill said. I aim to keep my own guts inside me, if nobody minds.

Shadrach was saddling his horse—he felt free to leave the troop at will, and his absences were apt to last a day or two.

Shad, are you leaving? Bigfoot asked.

Were all leaving, Shadrach said. Theres Indians to the north. I smell em.

I thought I still gave the orders around here, Major Chevallie said. I dont know why you would have such a dream, Wallace. Why would those two devils raid together?

Ive dreamt prophecy before, Bigfoot said. Shads right about the Indians. I smell em too.

Whats this—where are they? Major Chevallie asked, just as the norther hit with its full force. There was a general scramble for guns and cover. Long Bill Coleman found the anxiety too much for his overburdened stomach. He grabbed his rifle, but then had to bend and puke before he could seek cover.

The cold wind swirled white dust through the camp. Most of the Rangers had taken cover behind little hummocks of sand, or chaparral bushes. Only Matilda was unaffected; she continued to lay strips of greenish turtle meat onto the campfire. The first cuts were already dripping and crackling.

Old Shadrach mounted and went galloping north, his long rifle across his saddle. Bigfoot Wallace grabbed a rifle and vanished into the sage.

What

do we do with this mare, Gus? Call asked. He had only been a Ranger six weeks—his one problem with the work was that it was almost impossible to get precise instructions in a time of crisis. Now he finally had the Mexican mare saddled, but everyone in camp was lying behind sandhills with their rifles ready. Even Gus had grabbed his old gun and taken cover.

Major Chevallie was attempting to unhobble his horse, but he had no dexterity and was making a slow job of it.

You boys, come help me! he yelled—from the precipitate behaviour of Shadrach and Bigfoot, the most experienced men in the troop, he assumed that the camp was in danger of being overrun.

Gus and Call ran to the Majors aid. The wind was so cold that Gus even thought it prudent to button the top button of his flannel shirt.

Goddamn this wind! the Major said. During breakfast he had been rereading a letter from his dear wife, Jane. He had read the letter at least twenty times, but it was the only letter he had with him and he did love his winsome Jane. When the business about Gomez and Buffalo Hump came up he had casually stuffed the letter in his coat pocket, but he didnt get it in securely, and now the whistling wind had snatched it. It was a long .letter—his dear Jane was lavish with detail of circumstances back in Virginia—and now several pages of it were blowing away, in the general direction of Mexico.

Here, boys, fetch my letter! the Major said. I cant afford to lose my letter. Ill finish saddling this horse.

Call and Gus left the Major to finish cinching his saddle on his big sorrel and began to chase the letter, some of which had sailedquite a distance downwind. Both of them kept looking over their shoulders, expecting to see the Indians charging.

Call had not had time to fetch his rifle—his only weapon was a pistol.

Thanks to his efforts with the mare, the talk of torture and suicide had been hard to follow. Call liked to do things correctly, but was in doubt as to the correct way to dispatch himself, should he suddenly be surrounded by Comanches.

What was it Bigfoot said about shooting out your brains? he asked Gus, his lanky pal.

Gus had run down four pages of the Majors lengthy letter. Call had three pages. Gus didnt seem to be particularly concerned about the prospect of Comanche capture—his nonchalant approach to life could be irksome in times of conflict.

Id go help Matty clean her turtle if I thought shed give me a poke, Gus said.

Gus, theres Indians coming, Call said. Just tell me what Bigfoot said about shooting out your brains.

That whore dont need no help with that turtle, he added.

Oh, youre supposed to shoot through the eyeball, Gus said. Ill be damned if I would, though. I need both eyes to look at whores.

I should have kept my rifle handier, Call said, annoyed with himself for having neglected sound procedure. Do you see any Indians yet?

No, but I see Josh Corn taking a shit, Gus said, pointing at their friend Josh. He was squatting behind a sage bush, rifle at the ready, while he did his business.

I guess he must think its his last chance before he gets scalped, Gus added.

Major Chevallie jumped on his sorrel and started to race after Shadrach, but had scarcely cleared the camp before he reined in his horse. Call could just see him, in the swirling dust—the plain to the north of the camp had become a wall of sand.