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When the wind switched to the north, the temperature started dropping rapidly. Will pulled the red and black mackinaw more closely to his thin body as he urged his pony forward across the steep, rocky terrain.
He had already lost a lot of time looking for a shallow place to cross the Red River. Melting January snows up north had swelled the river beyond its normal low levels in the winter. With only the clothes he wore, Will couldn’t afford to get wet, so he’d had to follow the river east until he got ahead of the rising river.
Uncle Plez had written about the huge snows as he continued to urge his brother and family to join him in Indian territory. Plez was squatting on some Cheyenne Indian land near the Washita River in the Osceola community, but the Cheyenne were already on the reservation.
With the buffalo killed off by the hunters during the previous years, the Cheyenne had no choice but to move to the reservations. The government had promised them food if they would give up their land. With their children starving, the Indians reluctantly agreed.
Word was, though, that the Indians were still hungry half the time, because the food was never there when it was promised. The young bucks had taken to riding out, making deals with the cattle drovers from Texas as they moved their herds up the Chisholm Trail. In exchange for a couple of cows , the bucks let them pass safely.
Those who refused found their ponies stolen and their herds stampeded as the cowboys slept. Fighting back usually resulted in several cowboys with arrows through their hearts and minus a scalp.
Will needed to find a way to take care of his family. So, he'd talked Melindy into going to Oklahoma to make the run. BRight away, things had not gone the way they planned. They’d had to spend all their money for an open wagon and two mules.
Melindy drove the wagon, loaded with what furniture they had, some provisions, and the kids. He rode ahead on his pony trying to find the best trails.
But, then, the baby started coughing. Soon, she had a fever. Then the wagon ran a wheel off. By the time he got the wheel back on, he’d lost a day he hadn’t planned on losing.
Melindy’s Pa had been a travelin’ preacher til he got too stove up with his arthritis to ride, making the rounds of all the towns in north Texas. The whole family traveled with him. He held tent meetings, so Melindy knew people all over.
So, when they arrived in Gainesville, one of the church families offered to put up Melindy and the kids. Will would go on alone; his family would follow when the weather was warmer.
Now, Will worried. He was still on the south side of the Wichitas and the weather was getting worse quickly. He had to find shelter before dark. Somewhere and soon.
posted on May 15, 2010 10:42 PM ()
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