“Hiya, Larkin. Missed you on our scouting expedition yesterday.”
“Missed you, too, Foster. I drew drudge duty in the fort. What did I miss?”
“We rode twenty miles east. Saw a couple of Indian camps. Ran into one wagon train. Settlers. Religious in nature. Just what this territory needs.”
“Any women with them?”
All the soldiers laughed.
“None that would catch your eye, Larkin. Looked like they were all taken. Children all over the place.”
Another soldier muttered, “That’s never stopped Larkin before.”
The men laughed louder.
Larkin accepted the insult. “Sounds like you are speaking for yourself.”
Curly and Hump just looked at each other. They were learning English from these short exchanges. Hump mouthed silently, “Sounds like you are speaking for yourself.”
For Curly and Hump, the most important part of the exchange was new information. Curly signaled it was time for them to leave. Hump instinctively knew the plan. They whistled for their horses, which came at an enthusiastic trot. Fleet was Curly’s horse, a gift from his father. Boldheart was Hump’s horse. Boldheart was an older horse, passed on to him after the death of an uncle in battle. Hump accepted the horse as an honor. Both boys loved their horses as if they were human, almost as extensions of themselves. They jumped onto the horses’ backs and headed east.
+ + +
Curly and Hump rode Fleet and Boldheart along the hills parallel to what the soldiers called “The Holy Road.” Neither Curly or Hump knew where the dusty road began or where it ended, but they knew that hundreds of people—soldiers, trappers, and settlers—were following it through their hunting grounds. Anything along that road was in their territory and was fair game to them.
They rode for an hour, careful to stay behind the bluffs and out of sight. As soon as they found a protected area, they left their horses to graze and went ahead on foot, crouching as they inched toward the edge of a bluff. The Holy Road lay below them with a small meadow between the road and a stream.
They waited. It wasn’t long before they heard the first hoofbeats, moans of cattle and the rumbling and clanking of wagons, loaded full of household and farming equipment.
The day was drawing to a close. Curly and Hump hid in the deep grass at the edge of the bluff. They guessed that this would be the best stopping point for the settlers to spend the night. They were right. As the wagons came close, a man at the front waved his arm above his head in a wide circle.
The first wagon swung wide into the meadow and stopped. The dozen wagons following pulled close to the one in front of it, forming a tight circle. At the end of the procession was a solitary man on horseback herding a few tired cows and some spare horsepower.
The animals were led close to the stream, largely blocked from Curly and Hump’s line of sight. The wagons were crammed together so tightly that Curly and Hump could catch only glimpses of the inner circle and what was happening between the enclosure and the stream.
Older children were carrying buckets of water for cooking and cleaning. Women busied themselves making fires. The men were scattered. Some seemed to be inspecting wagons; others tended the working livestock. One mother filled a tub with several of the buckets of water carried by the older children. They began to bathe two toddlers. Small children ran about almost as freely as Sioux children, but Hump and Curly noticed that they were never far from parental eyes. They felt not the least bit envious.
Hump looked at Curly and shrugged. Silently, they agreed that this domestic scene might not be the challenge they were hoping for in their game of Raid, but it was something to do. If they were clever, they could make it sound more exciting tomorrow when they bragged to their friends.
They waited together, comfortable in their silence. As the aroma of cooked meat rose into the air, they pulled some dried pemmican from the leather pouches tied to their waists and gnawed at their rough dinner. They knew each other so well that there was no need for words. Soon it grew dark. Quiet slowly settled over the circled wagons.
As the full moon rose, the last figures left the fireside, busying themselves with a few final chores. One by one, they climbed into the wagons for the night, Hump pointed to the horses and a few cows tied close to the stream. Curly signaled “no.” Hump saw why. Two men were standing guard near the livestock.
Both boys hoped for a challenge. The game had no point if it was too easy. They would hold the livestock as an option, but silently they waited for a greater challenge to arise.
They started to climb down from the bluff toward the camp. They heard the settlers’ horses whinny. The boys paused. The animals sensed their presence. The guards paid no attention as they whispered to one another. Curly and Hump sneaked into camp from the opposite side, staying close to the wagons. They could hear the slow, rhythmic, sleep breathing from the wagons as they paused to look around.
Embers from a cooking fire cast a dim light and long shadows. Near the fire was a cooking pot and several dishes and spoons. Moving closer to the fire would risk detection. The guards’ backs were turned but the slightest sound would surely draw attention.
Curly, the smaller of the two, motioned that he would make his move. Curly weighed his options: move fast and risk making a noise or take more care and risk longer exposure to danger. He decided to strike for the middle.
He moved deliberately, but boldly. He walked to the fire and grabbed the cooking pot, turned as if it were his own campfire, and walked back to Hump, who was waiting by the wheel of a wagon.
Hump touched Curly on the back in silent congratulations. Hump wanted a piece of the action and started toward the fire. Curly grabbed his arm. Again they heard the horses sensing what the guards did not. Curly turned to head back for the bluffs. Hump took one last look at the camp. He saw something under the wagon where he had been hiding. He grabbed it and followed Curly, not looking at his prize. The boys climbed the bluff. As soon as they were out of earshot of camp they felt the first thrill of their success.
Suddenly, a loud shout rose from the camp. Several rifles sounded. Curly and Hump ducked low. Had they been seen? Quickly, the camp was astir. Curly and Hump felt the instinct to run but knew that their moving forms would be silhouetted in the moonlight. They would make easy targets for the settlers with powerful shotguns.
They watched carefully, preparing themselves to make the right move at the right time. The men were hastily pulling on jackets and grabbing for rifles. Both Curly and Hump noticed that their attention was directed toward the livestock. The men were not coming toward them but headed towards the creek and their horses and cows.
This was the moment they were waiting for. They broke into a run and did not stop until they reached Fleet and Boldheart, who carried them home.
The boys encountered no one as they arrived at camp. Night was nearly over. Daylight would break in only a few hours. They ducked into Curly’s family tipi. A low fire burned. The boys sat quietly by the fire surrounded by Curly’s family sleeping under buffalo robes. Curly set his cooking pot on the fire with pride. He whispered to Hump, asking him to show him what he had found. Hump looked down at his prize and tried to hide it. Curly grabbed for it several times and finally succeeded in wresting it from Hump. He moved it close to the fire and he saw Hump’s trophy—a doll.
Embarrassment overtook Hump. Curly tried to contain his laughter. Both boys rushed from the lodge to avoid waking the family.
It was to be a long, memorable night of camaraderie. That night, when they were done reliving their exploit, they would sleep on the prairie with Fleet and Boldheart.
+ + +
Daybreak soon dawned on one of the longest days of the year. Hump and Curly awoke to the chatter of other boys, racing