I judged we was safe so long as Tom kept talking. Talking too much was a weakness the boy had, who didn’t have many. I knowed Tom was hurting and I was sorry, but I was hurting, too. And I was worried about Eeteh. Any one a them pesky rascals could shoot him without no concern about the law. They could even collect a big bounty. I had to keep an eye on everybody at the same time and hope I’d be fast enough.
“If the main crinimal ain’t available,” Tom says from high up on Storm, “I guess you’ll have to do, Finn. We’re building a new jail and we can guest you in it, leastways till that general who’s chasing you comes. I just got a message from him. He’s on his way here to settle up with you. Hard to tell which of us is a-going to hang you first.”
“I s’pose I ain’t got much choice.”
“Your one choice all along’s been to stay right here. But you turned it down. I’m mighty disappointed. I told you we could handle that bugger of a general. Now I want you for myself. After the general’s sent packing, we’ll decide what we’re going to do with you. We KNOW what we’re going to do with your injun pal there. He was born a vilent crinimal, it was in his papoose bones. He’s just fitten for our gallows, and for his like there ain’t no appeal, nor not no room in the jailhouse nuther.” He nodded to his posse. It was the signal for them to raise their guns and point them at us. “Throw down your weapons,” Tom says. “NOW!”
It was hard to say where they come from, but when Tom says “now,” the tribe appeared all around us, dressed in splendid feathered headdresses and toothy necklesses, pieces of silver, beaded jackets hung with shells and tinkling metal. Led by Eeteh’s war-chief brother, they come riding in from all sides in a slow stately manner, meloncholical and most dignified, with their hands raised to say they was only wanting peace. Their hair was braided with julery and fur. Even their ankles had fur and silver bracelets on them. The chiefs in their war bonnets warn’t mostly carrying weapons where a body could see, but all the braves was. Some had bows and arrows, some had rifles, some only quirts, lances and stone mallets, but they all looked mighty dangersome. They was mostly bare-chested and painted up for battle and had bunches of red eagle feathers in their hair, one each for who they killed.
Tom seen he was overnumbered and raised his paw in a peace reply, glaring at me. His posse’d shrunk together, and they all lowered their weapons because Tom told them to.
Eeteh took off his derby and went to talk with the chiefs. They all laughed and pointed at the clothes he was wearing. He turned round and showed them the bullet holes in the back, and they laughed again. I heard them ask about Ne Tongo, and Eeteh pointed off towards the woods. They nodded and muttered betwixt theirselves. Eeteh’s brother signaled to one of the braves, and the brave led out a handsome speckled sorrel. Eeteh took the thong and thanked his brother in a formal way, then led the horse over to me. He was a gift, Eeteh says. He belonged to a very great warrior who was killed at the Greasy Grass River. The horse was very brave.
It was a beautiful gift. I says so in sign language with both hands, and told them in Lakota, best I could, the same thing.
General Long Hair also lost his curls there, Eeteh whispers to me. “They show you bluecoat scalps.” My jaw gapped. Who I most feared in the world warn’t IN it no more! My ducking and running was over! I couldn’t hardly believe it! But I was sorry for him, too. He probably warn’t planning to leave it so sudden.
“Thank your brother, Eeteh,” I says, “but ask him please to don’t show no scalps.”
Eeteh returned to the chief, they jawed a bit more, Eeteh pointed at the posse, and his brother nodded. When Eeteh come back, he says his brother told him we should go now.
“Why’re they helping us?”
“Ne Tongo spirit horse. God dog. Help win Long Hair war. You Tongo friend. All night they follow you here.”
The sorrel was already wearing a cinched pelt, so I kicked off my boots and swung up. I walked him around in a circle, feeling mighty comfortable. He moved easy and proud and already felt like part a me. Eeteh says the horse’s name is Waktay, but I could change it. “Tell him I am calling him Rain,” I says, stroking his neck. “For him.”
“Maghazhu,” Eeteh says, and his brother looked quietly pleased and nodded.
Tom handled his rifle to Bear and come sauntering over on Storm, cocksure as ever. There was the click of weapons getting ready. Some was raised and pointed at him. I held up my hand to stop anybody shooting, but Tom didn’t seem to pay no mind. “It don’t have to end like this, Hucky,” he says. He warn’t staring down on me no more. It felt more natural.
“We’re pards, Tom. There warn’t no call to try and get me hung.”
“I know it. I shouldn’t a done it that way. You know it don’t mean nothing, Hucky. I wouldn’t a never done you no harm. I only needed for you to stay, and I was trying to make that happen anyhow I could. Keeping you penned up in jail a week seemed like one good way.”