Chapter 16

Tom rode back to the crossroads on the south side of town and kept going east toward the river. He was close to forty miles from Omaha and he had about six hours of sunlight left. Not knowing this part of the country he felt his best bet would be to travel during daylight and lay low until the next morning.

He came to the trail that led south along the Missouri River and headed away from Newton and the friends he’d made in the short time he was there.

Sheriff Keyes had told Tom that the further south along the river he traveled, the more folks he would see. The towns are bigger and folks will be more skeptical of being friends with Indians.

“Tom when you get down around Omaha and St. Joe, you gonna find another breed of folks and another way of thinking. That part of the country is the way west for a lot of folks. The railroad runs west out of Omaha and there’s a lot of rough characters waitin’ to take advantage of folks traveling. When you get on down to St. Joe you’ll meet up with a bunch of folks headed west to make their fortune, some will be good, some won’t.”

“Kansas City is another story all its own. If I was you Tom, I’d ride right on through there, get me a good look at it and ride west. You wanted to see Dodge and Wichita too, but you gotta remember that you’ll be riding into more bad folks than good over there too. Just keep your eyes open and don’t get riled up every time some ya-hoo makes a mockin’ of you being an Indian.”

Tom sat a saddle as easy as some folks fit in the seat of a rocking chair. The easy long lope of his big horse was soothing and relaxing after being a lawman for over a week. Tom just wasn’t sure though that he was cut out to be a long time lawman, but he had learned a lot from Sheriff Keyes. The things he learned there would help him later on in his travels.

He looked over the land as he rode, there was a lot more trees down in this part of the country, especially near the river. He saw big open range land to the west and once in a while he saw where some land was being farmed. There seemed to be more cattle down this way too, he wondered if it was because of the railroads close by or maybe just more folks making a homestead here. Tom spent the night in a grove of trees near a creek about a mile from the river, he just didn’t like to be near the main trails at night.

Daylight came with cloudy skies and drizzling rain. As the day wore on the rain was heavier and the wind was blowing harder. Tom had a slicker in his bedroll but after a while, he was wet through and through in spite of it. He could hardly see at times, the rain was so hard, but during a break he saw an old barn. He circled the barn looking for tracks in the mud. Seeing none he slid off his horse and went inside. The old barn was leaning, but looked steady enough to stay up for a while longer.

Tom brought his horse in and took the saddle off, he found some dry hay from years past and dried his horse as best he could. He rolled his bedroll out and got a change of clothes. Dry clothes was a welcome feeling to his wet cold body. The rain kept up the rest of the day and into the next night, the wind at times seemed sure to level the old barn, but when morning came on the second day, the sun was bright and the sky to the west was clear. Water was standing everywhere and the ruts in the trail were full.

Tom saddled up and headed out once again, this time he rode to the side of the trail to stay out of the water filled ruts. His horse had better footing here on the flat solid ground and despite the mud they made good time.

He heard the sound at the same time his horse stopped dead in his tracks and pointed his ears to the front. There was a long low whine that turned into a wail like none he had ever heard. Whatever it was, was getting closer, the sound was coming clearer now and getting louder. Tom’s horse was reluctant to go on but he nudged him and they continued south. Soon he saw some buildings and a few houses along the trail, then there were more and more houses. He heard the awful sound again and his horse’s ears were constantly turning and pointing to pick up the sound.

He was riding into a town, he could see the stores lining the main street. The wagons were mired a foot deep in the mud and water as they were pulled by teams of horse or mules through the muddy streets. People were trying to get from one side of the street to the other and at times would step off into a deep rut and nearly fall in the muddy muck that was a street.

Tom rode slowly through the town looking for some sign that would tell him where he was. He thought it was Omaha, but wasn’t sure. There it was, a sign on a store front that said. ‘Tankersly Mercantile and Hardware’. Omaha Nebraska was painted under it. He rode up to the side of the high boardwalk and stepped off, there were people walking in every direction, bumping into each other and just walking on as if it never happened.

He made his way through the people without getting knocked down and went through the big front door into the store. People were everywhere in the store, some were just standing and talking to others, some were handling harnesses or looking at plow handles, or carrying shovels to the main counter. Tom stood to the side and watched as these people walked right by each other and never even spoke a word.

People would walk right by him, bump his arm and growl, “get out outta the way injun, what the hell you doin’ here anyway?” He backed up as far as he could, to stay out of the way, he’d never seen anyone as busy as these people were. It seemed like everyone was in a big hurry to do whatever it was they were doin’.

There was a short man standing behind the counter with a long white apron on that tied around his neck and again around his waist. Tom waited and waited, then finally stepped quickly to the counter as the man wasn’t waiting on a customer.

“Sir I’m looking for horse breeder by the name of Hollister, can you tell me where I might find him.”

“Ain’t seen him today injun, get outta the way I got customers to wait on.”

Tom looked around and there wasn’t anyone near the counter.

“Where would I find his spread Sir?”

“Go south of town about a mile and turn west at the big oak tree, then follow the main road until it cuts back south. You take the small north fork about a mile and you’ll see his place, now get the hell outta the way.”

Tom walked back out to the busy boardwalk. There were some men standing in front of his horse pointing at him.

“He must have wandered off from somebody, hell he ain’t even got a bridle on but that sure is a fine saddle.”

“You reckon we ought to put a rope on him and lead him down to the livery stable?”

“Hell I ain’t gonna be leading no loose horse down this muddy ass street for no body. Whoever lost him can find him on his own.”

Tom made his way past the men and clicked his tongue, his horse walked up to the boardwalk and turned as Tom slid a leg over the saddle and nudged his knee to turn him south.

“Sonofabitch, did you see that. Hell that God Damned horse came right up here and got that Injun. Hell man he ain’t even wearing a bridle and there he goes right down the middle of the street just like he knows where he’s a goin’.”

Tom rode through town looking up and down both sides of the street, he would come to cross streets and look down them both ways. They looked to go on forever in both directions.

He looked ahead and saw where the street had a big rise, there he saw two iron rails about 4 and 1/2 feet apart. Tom’s horse walked up to the railroad and looked down at it, other horses and wagons were crossing from both sides but he wanted to be sure. Tom nudged him and he walked up on top of the board crossing between the rails.

Tom looked both ways, to the east it looked like the rails curved back north and crossed the river, to the west they like looked they came together to a point in the distance.

Tom saw the train sitting on a side track near a red building. It was hissing white smoke out the sides and a big black stream of thick heavy smoke puffed out the chimney pipe.

People were stepping off some of the covered wagons, and some people were stepping up on the steps of the other covered wagons that were all hooked together.

Tom had read about the trains but had never seen pictures of them. He watched as the black smoke really bellowed out the chimney pipe now and the white smoke came out the side in a loud hiss and covered the whole area in smoke. The train was making terrible noises, shaking the air, as its powerful engine came to life.

A man picked up the wooden steps and climbed up on the train.

Standing there with his hand on a handle he yelled what sounded like ‘BOARD’. He waved with one hand while leaning out and holding on with the other.

The smoke cleared and the train began to move forward. Tom almost jumped off his horse and his horse almost ran away, as the sound they had heard earlier, screamed louder than anything he had ever heard before in his life.

The train began to move slowly, the wheels were rolling along on top of the rails of iron. Slowly the train moved away from the buildings and picked up speed as it headed west. Tom sat and watched in amazement at this strange spectacle. Soon the train was just a small object on the rails. The long black rope of smoke trailed behind and looked thick enough to hold a man up if he walked on top of it.

Tom rode south, he saw some short muddy roads that looked like they didn’t go past a house or barn, he kept riding and came to a wide crossroads with a big tree right in the middle, and turned west. He rode for close to an hour before he saw where the road made a big sweep back south. He turned north on a smaller road and in no time he saw the overhead entrance to a ranch.

‘Hollister Stables’ the big letters said overhead. Tom knew he must be at the right place. He rode up to the barn and a tall skinny black man came out to see who it was.

“I’m here to see Mr. Hollister, Sir.”

The black man looked up at the tall Indian and stared open mouthed, he didn’t see many men as tall as he was.

“I only speak English and Sioux, if you speak another tongue, I can’t talk with you,” Tom said.

The black man smiled at Tom, “Bring yo’ hoss on in th’ barn injun, I’ll git Mr. Hollister.”

Tom slid off his horse and stood there waiting for the black man to come back.

“Tom Cooper, I see you made it. I’m glad too, we have three mares that are horsing for some attention,” Mr. Hollister smiled as he came to shake Tom’s hand.

“Yes Sir, the rain was fierce back on the trail a bit and we found an old barn to hole up in for a while. Then came on down this morning.

“I saw a train back there in town and had to stop to look it over, I’ve never seen one before, that is some big piece of machinery.”

“Yes they are Tom, let Bones take your horse and wash him down from the trail and get him fed. You come with me to the house and I’ll introduce you to my family.”

“Sir, I don’t think my horse will let anyone touch him, he’s always been kinda shy around strangers.”

“Well don’t you worry none, Bones has a way with animals, they will get along just fine.”

Tom walked over to his horse and slipped the saddle off him and Bones took it from him as Tom slid the Henry out.

Tom leaned in and whispered to his horse and turned to walk away with Mr. Hollister. The big horse looked at the black man then at Tom, then snorted through his lips and nose. Tom looked back and waved for him to go on to the barn and walked toward the house with Mr. Hollister. The horse followed Bones to the barn. Tom followed Mr. Hollister into his house and then into a room that had hundreds and hundreds of books along two walls. There were rows and rows of books from the floor to the ceiling.

“You read all those books Mr. Hollister?”