Chapter 15

It looked to me like it was time for "Snake" to go back into business. Something had to be down to make life too uncomfortable around here for the Comanches so they would let us alone. The best thing I could figure was for me to raid them. I told Janet what I had in mind to do as soon as it got dark enough. Most of the work was going to be done with my knife because I didn't want to attract attention with the sound of a gunshot.

It was close to 10:00 PM before it was dark enough. The Comanche camp seemed to have settled down, so I would only have to worry about a few guards, at least at first. There was a little bit of a draw right near our wagons, and the draw ran toward the Comanche camp, so I was set up to get most of the way without any trouble. I took both my pistols and my bowie knife, but I left my other weapons behind. I really didn't expect to use anything but the knife, but Janet said that she would feel better about the whole thing if I took my pistols. I couldn't argue with a feeling, so I went along.

There was no moon, so I didn't have to worry about that as I slipped out of camp and into the draw. It was about three feet deep, and that was plenty for me. It was just short of 500 yards to the Comanche camp, and the draw ran out about 50 yards this side of there. There were some isolated bushes and a bit of brush in small clumps here and there so the cover was adequate for me.

I was real lucky when I reached the camp—there was a Comanche guard lolling around and beating his meat. Obviously, he was not expecting an attack or even a single visitor from the other side, so I had no trouble disposing of him with a single knife thrust into his brain through his left eye. I just left him sitting there leaning his back against the large rock as if he was still masturbating. Well, I thought it was funny!

I slipped into camp and headed for the horses. The Comanches were sure to leave if they had to chase their horses. Chasing off horses wasn't as much fun as killing Comanches, but it was a hell of a lot easier and quicker way to get rid of them. I managed to kill the guard on duty at the horse picket line, so I knew that I would not be bothered for a while. It took quite a bit longer to do, but it was a lot more certain way to get rid of the horses if I went down the line pulling off the halter and slapping the horse on the hip. Sending them off individually like that made them much harder to find later on. There were 37 horses in the picket line, so it took me a little over 90 minutes to chase every one of them off. I knew that some would only go a few hundred yards and stop, but the others would still have to be found and rounded up before the Comanches could become a serious fighting force again.

I wanted them to know that their camp had been invaded because I wanted them to worry a little, though they would never admit it. To that end, I hunted up some more Indians to kill. I found a few and killed the sleeping men. I felt absolutely no qualms about doing that, they would have killed me if the situation had been reversed. By now, it was getting close to dawn, so I hurried back to the wagons and checked in with Janet. She was so glad to see me that we took a little time for sex before the camp woke up.

Along about daylight, there was quite a stir over in the Comanche camp. I figured that they must have discovered that their horses were missing. The fact of the dead men was worthy of note, but it was the missing horses that was the important factor! As soon as I saw what was going on over there, I got everybody up and we got ready to move out as quickly as we could manage. We would have to eat jerky for breakfast and do without coffee. I had the nearest thing to an revolt with some of the people, particularly the women, about skipping breakfast as you could ever get from ex-slaves, but I told them that I was leaving, and anybody that didn't come with me was being abandoned to the Indians. This finally got through some stubborn heads, and everybody was ready to go within the hour. Nevertheless, I could tell that some of the women were still peeved with me. Oh, well...

As I expected, the Comanches ignored us completely as they concentrated on finding their missing horses. It was possible that they would seek revenge, but I doubted it—Comanches may be kind of crazy, but they are a long way from dumb! It was obvious that the war chief's medicine was shot to hell, and that had to be repaired before they dared to venture out of their main camp.

We stayed on the road for just over three hours until we came to a place that was easily defended and had its own water supply. That's where we stopped so that the women could fix a hearty breakfast for all, including me. They were no longer mad at me now that we had stopped to eat, so I was back in everybody's good graces. I talked the idea over with some of the Negro leaders, and they agreed with me that we should spend the rest of the day here, so we could rest and catch up on the sleep we had missed during the Indian trouble.

Other than a few guards, and I checked on them regularly, everybody took it easy the rest of the day and spent a lot of time sleeping. I rotated the guards every two hours, so nobody was cheated out of his sleep, except me. I have the ability to go for several days on just a couple of hours sleep per night, though I do have to catch up eventually. I figured to sack out once we got to a little safer place; Janet could cover for me, then.

The next few days were quiet, so we managed to make pretty good time. We averaged almost 30 miles per day during that time, and I was quite pleased with our progress. Then it hit the fan!

The driver of our lead wagon was shot in the head. I was sure that he was dead, but his hysterical wife calmed down when she had a chance to look at him. She reported that it was just a grazing wound that produced a lot of blood, but didn't seem to crack his skull. He was going to have one hell of a headache that would probably last for several days, but he would live, and that was the important point.

I could see the puff of powder smoke and took off in that direction almost before the sound of the shot died. The sound of the shot made me believe that it had been made by a Confederate muzzle loader, so I knew that I had at least 15 seconds before the shooter could reload under ideal circumstances. I hoped to catch sight of the shooter in that interval.

Yes, there he was, madly trying to reload as I got close enough to see him. I fired off a shot with my pistol, not because I expected to hit him, but because I wanted to fluster him and slow down his reloading. It seemed to work, because he finally just dropped his rifle and turned to run. Well, no man is going to outrun a horse in that short distance, so I quickly caught up to him. My horse was well trained, so I was able to direct the horse to bump the running man with his shoulder. This knocked the man flying and I was able to stop and aim my gun at him before he recovered.

I asked, "Why the hell did you shoot at my wagon train? We were not doing you any harm."

He answered, "I shot a nigger, that's all. Why are you so excited?"

"Because that nigger works for me, that's why. I'm of a mind to shoot you where you lie, you stupid bastard. Now, tell me why you shot him."

"I told you, I shot him because he's a nigger. The niggers caused all the trouble around here, and I aim to do my part to get rid of them before they cause any more trouble."

"That's the most stupid thing I ever heard. It's your kind that caused the trouble! That's why I'm going to shoot you." That's when I pulled the trigger and shot him between the eyes. Dammit, I hate bushwhackers!

I rode back to the train and was relieved to find out that the injured Negro was not dead. We made room for him in his wagon to lie down on some blankets for padding. His son took over driving while his wife nursed him. She couldn't do any thing much for him, but her care made him feel a lot better. We moved slowly the rest of the day, and I spent most of that time cussing to myself over the stupidity of the human race.