second few pages. read earlier post 1st They were to far in the distance for me to hear what they were saying. Their talking told me they were not hunting for game. A hunting party would be as quiet as possible and would be traveling in parties of two or there, so as not to scare any prey away. Thinking they must be a scouting party or leading the way for something bigger. Anyway I can see they aren’t looking my way and it looks like we had got away with it this time. If they saw us I would be killed probably scalped and pony would have been lunch unless they needed him as a mount. As they pass us and get beyond the tree line and I feel a little safer. Standing up I nudged pony with the toe of my boot and he came to his feet. I tightened his girth and put my rifle back in the holster. We waited a couple of minutes and went out on the other side of the woods. Coming out into the opening, sitting there on pony assessing our options, I should have known better. We were wide open for attack from any direction. Suddenly pony snorted a low snort, threw his head back just enough to let me know there was something about. Usually a large animal or maybe a snake would make him act this way. Of course, a man would make him act up. Slowly turning not to startle what ever or who ever was there. About 60 yards away I could see the eight braves that had passed by us earlier. They had saw us, passed by and doubled back to see how many of us was here. There was no paint on their faces or horses and they were not coming any closer. Turning Pony in the opposite direction, I put the heel of my boot into his flanks. I don’t wear spurs and have not since I started ridding Pony. I figured he didn’t need hurting, he always seemed to know what I wanted him to do. Putting my boot heels in his flanks, like I did, meant only one thing, run and run fast. Running as fast as his four legs would carry us. Pony rode straight into the wind. Across the open field. About half way across the clearing we ran passed the frame of an old wagon. It was long since past it’s usefulness. Pilgrams heading west had scavenged all the useful parts. Wheels were gone and as far as I could see any board that could be used was gone. My mind was on the patch of woods about 200 yards away. Looking as I ride I can see what the braves were leading. Far off to the west I could see a large cloud of dust. I guessed it was the rest of the tribe, women, children and dogs. They had everything they owned and dragging on a travois behind a couple of old nags. Everything it takes to set up their camp was up front with the younger children and dogs. I decided it would be safer to swing around them. This would take me a couple of miles off my trail, that’s ok with me. That would be better than facing an entire tribe of hostile Comanche Indians even if they were women and small kids. Swinging around would add a couple of hours more on the trail. I guess this will bother Pony more than me. He has to walk and carry me. I have only been a Texas Ranger for about four months now. This is my first time on the trail of a killer by myself. Up till now it has always been three or four of us traveling together. Nearing the next copse, I ventured a look behind me. Nothing. Those Comanche hunters were not interested in me. I guess they thought I offered no harm to them or their families. Giving Pony time to catch his breath we move on into the underbrush, trying to get out of sight of the braves. Looking back I could see that they had not moved from the spot. I guess they were having a good laugh on me. That’s ok, I’m still alive.
Posted on: Fri, 01 Nov 2013 11:11:20 +0000
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