Orrin pushed his hat back. He glanced at the bartender. “A beer,” he said, “and give Shorty whatever he’s drinking.”
He waited for the beer, took a swallow, and then said, “I never seen a herd so scattered that a man couldn’t round up some of them, and as for Tell and Tyrel, they don’t kill very easy. I’ve seen ’em shot at, I’ve seen ’em wounded, I’ve seen them days without food or water, and somehow they always came through.
“Regardless, we gave our word to deliver cattle, and deliver them I will if I have to round up a herd of buffalo and drive them through.”
“I’ve got just one man, Shorty, an’ old cart driver named Baptiste. We’ve got two cartloads of grub an’ gear, and I’m rustling for men and horses.”
“Out west there, they’ve got some mighty mean Sioux, some meaner Blackfeet, and some grizzlies that will stand higher than a horse and heavier than a bull. They’ve got mountains where nobody ever drove a cow critter before, and there may be some men along the trail who’d like to stop us. What d’you say?”
“Sounds like my kind of a deal.” Shorty tossed off his drink. “Finish your beer. I know a man who’s got some horses.”
Two hours later, Orrin owned six new horses. Shorty stood back and watched him, an amused smile on his face. Orrin passed by dozens of horses to choose the six he finally bought.
“You done yourself proud,” Shorty said. “You got yourself six of the best. But you get to roundin’ up stock on the plains, and six horses won’t last even two men no time at all.”
“We’ll have more. What I need right now is men.”
“Tough. Usually, you could find all you wanted. These métis ain’t cowpunchers by a long shot, but they can ride, and they can shoot, and you find quite a few who are fair hands with a rope. And they’re workers, every durned one of them.”
The steamboat whistled. “Shorty? You want to meet me in Fort Garry with these horses?”
“Surest thing you know. But you watch your step. That’s a mighty touchy situation there.”
He had no doubt of it, yet there was nothing to do but to go ahead and cope with the situations as they occurred.
He could not make himself believe that Tell and Tyrel were dead. If not dead, they might be lying somewhere, injured and suffering. Or they might be prisoners of the Sioux.
He made the International just as they were taking in the gangway.
Devnet met him on the upper deck. “It isn’t far now, is it?” she asked.
“A few more hours. You are going to Fort Carlton?”
“Of course.”
“Is Mrs. McCann going with you?”
“I think not. I do not know her well, you know. We just met while traveling, and all I know is that she wishes to go west, all the way to the Pacific.”
“You should have no trouble.”
She turned to him suddenly. “I am sorry about your brothers, so very sorry. Were you so very close?”
“We had our differences, but they never amounted to much. Yes, we were close. I left my law practice to help them.”
“What will you do now?”
“Find their bodies, if possible, bury them, and then round up the cattle and go on west.” He paused. “But I cannot believe they are dead. They were both so strong, so alive. They were survivors. They’d been through a lot.”
He hesitated, then said, “Miss Molrone, I — ”
“My friends call me Nettie. It is easier to say than Devnet.”
“All right, Nettie. What will you do if you learn nothing of your brother at Carlton?”
“Go on west, I presume. He has to be there.”
“You must realize there is no regular mode of travel to the west, only occasional groups of travelers. Someday there will be a railroad. They are talking of it now, and since this Riel trouble, I imagine there will be a serious effort made, but that’s years away.”
“I have to go — somehow.”
“We will not be going by way of Carlton but will be going west from Fort Ellice. We will follow the Qu’Appelle River, more or less. If you could join us — of course, it will be rough, sleeping on the ground and all that.”
“I could do it.”
They talked the morning away but saw nothing of Kyle Gavin. Before the noontime meal, Mary McCann came up to join them. She said little, had blunt but not unattractive features, and Orrin noticed her hands showed evidence of much hard work.
Occasionally, now, there were breaks in the wall of trees on either bank, and they could catch glimpses of meadows and in one case of a plowed field. The country was very flat, and the river wound slowly through it They saw many ducks and an occasional hawk.
A dozen men armed with rifles, whom he took to be méis, waited on the landing. One of them came forward as the carts were being driven ashore. His name, he said, was Lepine.
“I am Orrin Sackett.”
Lepine nodded. “We have heard of you.” He gestured to the carts. “These will be confiscated.”
Briefly, Orrin explained. Lepine shrugged. “It will be up to Louis. He will decide.”
It was arranged for him to be conducted to the fort where Riel had taken up his residence.
Riel came into the room wearing a black frock coat, vest and trousers, and moccasins, as did nearly everyone. He had quick, intelligent eyes, a broad forehead, and a shock of black hair.
He listened, his eyes roaming around the room, as Orrin explained. At the end, he nodded. “Of course. We will release your goods. I have heard of the attack you mention.”
“And my brothers? Were they killed?”
“What we heard was little enough. There was a stampede, an attempt to scatter the cattle so the Sioux could take them when they wished.
“There was some fighting, which would imply somebody survived the stampede. The Sioux claim to have lost no one, but one of my men, who was in their camp shortly after, learned there were some losses, and the Sioux had but one fresh scalp that he saw.”
He glanced at Orrin. “You must give me your word the rifles will not be used against me, nor the supplies given to those who consider themselves my enemies.”
His restless eyes kept moving about the room. Suddenly, he asked, “How many men do you have?”
“Two — now. A cart driver named Baptiste — ”
Riel smiled. “I know him. A good old man.” He looked around at Orrin. “But only two? What can you do?”
“I hope to find more.”
“Well” — he shook his head doubtfully — “you have a problem.” He waved a hand. “Go! It is all right! You shall have your carts. I want trouble with no one. I began all this because I wanted peace. There were surveyors coming on our land, and I was afraid there would be a shooting.”
Orrin turned to the door, and his hand was on the latch when Riel spoke again. “Wait! There is a man, an American like yourself. He is in jail here. I think he is a good man.”
“In jail for what?”
“Fighting.”
Orrin smiled. “All right. I will talk to him.”
“If you hire him, the case will be dismissed.” Riel smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling. “Just take him away from here. It needed four of my men to get him locked up.”
Lepine unlocked the cell, and a man got up from the straw. He was at least two inches taller than Orrin’s six feet and four inches but leaner. He had a handlebar moustache and a stubble of beard. One eye was black, fading to blue and yellow, and his knuckles were skinned.
“You want a job?” Orrin said.
“I want to get out of here.”
“You take the job, you get out. Otherwise, they’ll throw the key away.”
“Don’t look like I have much choice.” He stared at Orrin. “What kind of a job is this, anyway?”
“Rounding up cattle stampeded by buffalo. It’s in Sioux country.”
“Hell, I’d rather stay in jail. They gotta let me out sometime.”
He was watching Orrin, and suddenly he said, “What’s your name, mister?” He paused. “It wouldn’t be Sackett, would it?”
“It would. I am Orrin Sackett.”
“I’ll be damned! They call me Highpockets Haney. I thought you had the mark on you. You Sacketts all seem cut to the same pattern, sort of. I served in the army with a Sackett named William Tell.”
“My brother.”
“I’ll be damned! All right, you got yourself a boy. On’y you got to get me a weepon. They done taken my rifle gun an’ my pistol.”
A burly métis, sitting on a log with a rifle across his knees, looked up as they came out. “Take heem! Take heem far! He geef me a leep!” He touched his lip with tender fingers.