Cookie grinned, "Yes-sieree-Bob. Ain't no loafers on the outfit, 'Cept fer Craddock, they'll have him in a travois fer a spell. Cain't never tell about arra wounds. If'in they dipped it in their brand 'a prison, well, it could kill him. So we'll be watchful for thet. G'wan now, there's work ta be done!"
Just then Pythias rode up with Justus' horse 'Mule' in tow. "Plenty of daylight left so Teal's movin' the herd. Mount up, reckon he likes us out front." And so it was to be buisness as usual, except everyone would have those Indians in mind as they headed north for the ranch in Montana. There was a way to go, and untold dangers from the weather, the range, river crossings, and man, both red or white.
Luck had been with them, with minor exceptions, they had not lost a man, which was always a threat on a drive. They had most of the herd they had started with, and all of the horses. Yes, there were miles ahead of them, but to this point in the drive, they had made good time. If they could continue with this luck it would not be long before the goal was in sight. Kalispell Montana and the Rockin' G Ranch.
Justus' nose wrinkled up as Pythias brought Mule to him. "Fella can't get a break," he mumbled, but he was grinning as he took Mule's reins. His arm ached, but there was work to be done, and he was glad that they weren't coddling him, and he was glad that he wasn't Craddock, that travois was going to hurt!
Mounting was awkward without the full use of his left arm, but Justus managed to clamor aboard, and he was pleased to see that someone had retrieved his rifle and returned it to its scabbard.
"Good ta see ya come through that all right. Hopefully, them Injuns'll think again before comin' back." Or they'd know better how to approach next time? Hopefully, they'd put some distance between them and the tribe, and move into territory that these Indians would want to avoid.
"Reckon at least gettin' a cut means I don't gotta be eatin' trail dust fer th' rest of th' day!" Laughing, Justus gigged Mule into a lope toward the hear of the herd.
"Nope, not 'less there's a strong wind a blowin' it at us." Pythias said. "Teal, he want's us not so far out where we stand a better chance a bein' picked off, should that war party come back at us. But we stung 'em, stung 'em good. They may move on, knowin' it ain't gonna be no picknic ta try us again." There was a certainty in his voice, having dealt with hostiles before. Had they killed many? No way to tell exactly, they poured a lot of lead at the red man, but they always took their dead and wounded away with them.
"You an' me we'll keep a close eye out for sign, but I'm for believin' them Injuns had enough'a us drovers." He included, then laughed. "Movin' the herd a ways further on is a good'un. We won't be where we was, and might be we'll find a better spot. So be lookin'."
"Yes, sir, I'll watch fer more trouble." Justus nodded. There was plenty he needed to learn about the natives, especially since each tribe had their own way of doing things, and while there might be common practices, even those varied, so that, even if you knew how to deal with one band, another might be insulted at those efforts.
"Ya know what sorta Indians they got in Montana? They any worse than th' Comanche or Apache?" He certainly hoped not, he'd hate to think what torments they could come up with, and he as smart enough to know that, just because they made it to the ranch, they wouldn't have to worry about Indian raids. But maybe Montana was cold enough that the Natives would just hunker down in camp.
"Montana? Injuns a plenty." Pythias said. "Sioux, Blackfoot, Crow, a passel of 'em, most I ain't rightly heard of. Some are hostiles, other not, sorta like anywhere people are." And as far as he was concerned, that was a true statement. "Now Apaches and Commanches, glad they're behind us. Far behind us. But what's ahead, all I know is the Sioux and Cheyenne wiped out Custer somewhere in Montana, not sure where."
That was a fact, it had happened, the mighty Seventh Cavalry was wiped out. But that was common knowledge. And the number of Indians that were in the territory was unknown to him, as there could be many tribes, and surely some he had never heard of. But there had been nothing said of Indian troubles in this Kalispell area.
"Like all things, Justus, we just gotta wait 'n see." He added as rode ahead of the herd, but not as far out as they had before Pythias was more cautious than that.
"Custer? Didn't think on that." Justus had heard some of what had happened to the Seventy Cavalry, mostly that they had been pretty much wiped out by a band of Indians at some river called the Big Horn. "Montana's a big territory, maybe that ain't close ta where we're going."
He knew that was a naive way of thinking -- wishful thinking -- and he certainly wouldn't let it make him complacent. But still, he could hope that whatever tribes they may run into were a little more reasonable, or maybe more prone to avoiding the whites.
"Still'll be nice ta be in one place an' have a roof most nights. Wonder if it's open range?"
"Yep! Good ta have walls an' roofs, but there ain't nothin' like sleeping out in the open. Nothin'. But, I'll be glad to be up ta this ranch, what was it Franks called it, Rockin' P?" Pythias tried to remember, "That's it, Rockin' P Ranch. Now the way I hear it, they got 'em a waterfall, plenty a' trees, lotta land an' the place is just built, brand new! Ain't that somethin'?" He grinned.
"Now them Injuns from the Big Horn, I dunno, maybe they's in this neck 'o the woods, an' maybe they ain't, only times gonna tell." He tacked on. "But we got us a job to do, just like the rest'a the boys do, best we keep are minds on thet. Keep a sharp eye out fer possible trouble, and mindful of river crossins, and places ta camp, cuz I figger we got us a few more afore were done."
"Can't say as I'll miss sleepin' out in th' snow," Justus commented, watching the landscape in front of them. "Seen snow once, when I was real little, an' there was only a couple inches." It was one of the good memories, a rare memory.
"Never been that cold, before or since, so it's gonna be somethin' ta adjust to, that's certain. An' I'm glad fer a roof an' a stove, at least when we're not out courtin' cows!" He chuckled, then mused, "I wonder how th' cows don't just up an' freeze, just fall over, all stiff an' dead-like!"
"Given the right cold, well they can, and they do freeze. Mostly out where these are goin' they'll get a real taste of th' cold. But I'm sure they can bring 'em in outta the weather if need be. Big ol' barns fer just that sortta thing. In cold country it's a must have, or face losin' yer herd!" Pythias explained matter of factly. Being able to care for the herd in adverse weather would be important, raising stock for future sale means being able to have stock to sell.
"Clouds 'er gaterin', we might be in fer it tanite. Snow's bad enough, but rain? That's the worst! Hope I'm wrong, but somehow I doubt it. We been lucky so far, but I'm thinkin' it's about ta run out. Won't need to be worryin' 'bout no Injuns, or whites lookin' ta steal the herd. Neither likes bein' out in the bad weather, so far as I know."
"I don't like bein' out in th' rain, either!" Justus chuckled. "I reckon so long's we just have th' rain ta deal with, rather that than someone tryin' ta take 'em." Then he frowned and shrugged. "Unless there's a thunderstorm." All that noise and lightening would likely not make the cows happy.
Of course, riding in the wind, rain and mud wasn't a cakewalk, either, it could get so thick you couldn't see a lick in front of you, and then there was hail, pummeling you until everything was stinging, the ground was slick, making the horses slide...at very least.
"Hafta be a might big barn ta hold all them cows!" Justus laughed. "Reckon that's when ya wanna work yer way to th' center of th' pack, nice an' snug!" Maybe they shifted around so none were completely exposed for any length of time?