CHAPTER 11
There was no immediate taking off. There was planning to do, and equipment to put together. I sat long with Walks-By-night and talked of trails, of game, of mountains. He had often hunted far to the north, and had gone north on raids against the Crow.
Finally, I showed him the map. After some thought, he recognized the place and gave me clear directions. Of this, I said nothing.
Meanwhile Walks-By-night presented me with a lean, powerful Appaloosa, a horse he swore to me was the finest buffalo horse he had known. My own horse went to Feather Man, who traded me a buckskin and a zebra dun for packhorses.
Finally, we put our packs together. The Cheyennes had little food to spare, but they let us have what they could, and it was noble of them, with a long winter to come.
The morning was frosty but clear when we started out, a few stars still hanging in the sky. Solomon Talley led off, riding beside Degory Kemble, Sandy and Shanagan followed, and then the dozen packhorses, followed by Lucinda and I, with Ulibarri riding herd on the packhorses.
Cusbe Ebitt and Isaac Heath brought up the rear.
We rode out, down into the riverbed and along it at a good clip. We wanted distance between ourselves and the encampment, hoping our disappearance would not soon be known.
We no longer feared pursuit by Captain Fernandez--we were going north, clearly out of Spanish territory--unless he was after the girl.
And we did not think it was he who had followed her from Santa Fe.
Leaves were falling from the trees that morning, yet many had only turned red and gold with autumn. We left our friendly stream bed and turned up another, strange to us, but one that flowed down from the north.
Lucinda was silent, reluctant to go, yet appreciating the fact that we had no choice but to move and swiftly. As we rode, she became increasingly disturbed and I noticed her eyes going to the sun as if trying to determine our direction.
"If you have anything to say, better say it now." "What?" Her eyes were suspicious. "What do you mean by that?" I shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it?
Someone follows you from the Spanish colonies.
Why? Because he believes you have something he wants, or you can tell him where it is.
"The man I saw, the one you said resembled your father, he didn't look like a man who would follow a woman for love. He might take a horsewhip to one, but follow her... no. He looked like a man interested in only two things: money and power." "I don't know him." "He knows you, and he'll be following us." "You don't think we've slipped away from him?" "That man? There isn't a chance. He'd be like a wolf on the trail. To be rid of him, you must give him what he wants." "I will not!" I chuckled. "And neither will I. But we must be prepared to run, to fight, and to run again. These men" -comI gestured at those with us--"they risk their lives as well as their season's trapping for you.
You might at least tell us what we're fighting for." She was stubborn, and would say no more. Yet I was doing some thinking myself, and realized of a sudden that I might have the answer right in my pocket. I might have the answer in the items taken from the pockets of Conway, before we covered his body.
Startled, I reviewed them in my mind. Aside from the map, there were the coins--and the buttons!
We held to a good pace that first day, keeping in the bottom along the creek and under the trees.
Twice we drew up to rest and each time one or more of us rode out to check our backtrail. We saw nothing, heard nothing.
"If I didn't know I'd be dreaming," Shanagan said, "I'd guess we've escaped them." "Not the man I saw. He had the face of a cruel, relentless man, the kind who would never give up." Here and there we found a few currants still clinging to the bushes, and we ate them eagerly, pleased with a different taste. Twice we saw grizzlies, one group of three, an old she bear and two cubs, were feeding on a hillside a good hundred yards away. She stood up to inspect us, watching carefully as we slowly rode by and continued on our way.
Twice we passed groups of buffalo skulls, all with the horns turned to the west, for the Indian believes this is good medicine for the future hunt. Yet we saw few tracks of horses, and no human tracks.
We were pointed toward the mountains, and we moved steadily, holding to low ground and avoiding exposure. Lucinda was quiet, devoting all her attention to the country. Several times she drew up to study some rocky projection or outcropping and she seemed increasingly disturbed.
When night came, we camped with the last light, dipping down off a bench into a grassy bottom where a swift-running stream found its way through a thick stand of aspen. The night was overcast with a hint of the rain that had been lingering all through the day.
Nobody seemed disposed to talk. All of us, I think, were gripped by the seriousness of what we had done. Despite the hour, Davy and Isaac set traps. The place was ideal for beaver, and although we had seen no dam and it was late to look for it, there were beaver runs all about where they had dragged young trees or limbs down to the water.
Over coffee I said to Lucinda, "If you have anything to tell us, it had better be soon, for we shall travel fast." "Why do you say that?" "Something's bothering you, and I believe I know what it is. You see, I was the first to find Conway." "He was alive? He hadn't died when you found him?" "He was quite dead. But there are formalities.
One cannot just let a man die and be buried. There are people who must be notified. There would be someone inquiring about him, wanting to know what happened." "There was no one. He was an orphan. He was a friend to my father and my father is dead." "Perhaps. Nevertheless, I did not know that at the time." "What does that mean?" "I went through his pockets." Her breath caught and I thought her face went a little pale.
"I took what there was for identification, or to pass them on to relatives." "I've said he had no relatives.
You can give them to me." "Perhaps I shall. One of the items was a map.
There were a few coins, and some buttons. Very unusual buttons." "I know nothing about them." For a moment I was silent. The others would be coming up to the fire soon. I fed sticks into the flames, and then said, "I do." She was startled. "You what?" "I recognized the buttons. You see, Miss Falvey, I'm a man of curious mind. I read. I also listen, and when interested, I inquire. When a man is dedicated to the search for knowledge, he may follow his quest down many strange paths.
"Having followed my curiosity as far as I have, it's not difficult to put a few things together.
Your father was an interested man also, that much is obvious. By what means he first learned of this treasure we may never know, but that he knew of it as did Conway is obvious. The buttons are an indication." "They were all there was left," Lucinda said.
"When my father found the old church, the treasure was gone... already gone. He found a few buttons, the medallion... a few coins, and a gem the thieves had dropped in their hurry to be away." "No doubt that's true, as far as it goes, but what about the old Indian? He told your father something. Told him enough, in fact." She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. "I must have help. Can you trust these men?" "They're risking their lives to help you." "Or to find what I'm looking for?" "Not too many men are to be trusted when gold is a matter of concern, or a pretty woman, but I believe these men can be trusted. I've found them men of principle, and despite what many wish to believe, there are honorable men in the world.