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Updated: June 18, 2025
She held out her arms. But Neale plunged away, upheld by Slingerland, and Allie's world grew suddenly empty and black. The train swayed and creaked along through the Night with that strain and effort which told of upgrade. The oil-lamps burned dimly in corners of the coach. There were soldiers at open windows looking out.
And it was at this moment that Neale either remembered the strange, low moan or heard it again. He reined in his horse. "I'm going back," he called. "What fer?" Slingerland rejoined. Larry King wheeled his mount and trotted back to Neale. "Red, I'm not satisfied," said Neale, and told his friend what he thought he had heard. "Boy, you're oot of yur haid!" expostulated Red. "Maybe I am.
Neale returned to the fire, shivering and holding his palms to the heat. "Cold, you bet, with the wind rising," he said. "But, Slingerland, suppose it does snow. Can't we go, anyhow?" "It ain't likely. You see, it snows up hyar. Mebbe we'll be snowed in fer a spell. An' thet valley is open down thar. In deep snow what could we find? We'll wait an' see."
After making a careful survey of the rolling country for lurking Indians he rode out with Neale, Larry, and two other men Brush and an Irishman named Pat who were to skin the buffalo the hunters killed, and help load the meat into wagons which would follow. "It ain't no trick to kill buffalo," Slingerland was saying to his friends. "But I don't want old bulls an' old cows killed.
"Boys, thar ain't no marks on her only thet blood," added Slingerland, hopefully. Neale tore open the front of her blouse and slipped his hand in upon her breast. It felt round, soft, warm under his touch, but quiet. He shook his head. "Those moans I heard must have been her last dying breaths," he said. "Mebbe. But she shore doesn't look daid to me," replied King. "I've seen daid people.
I've always had a hunch that Reddy was really somebody." "Benton 'll work on the cowboy," continued Slingerland, earnestly. "An', son, I ain't so all-fired sure of you." "I'll take what comes," returned Neale, shortly. "Good-bye, old friend. And if you can use us for buffalo-hunting without the 'dom' Sooz, as Casey says; why, we'll come."
Neale had to abandon the hunt for that day, and turning back, with some annoyance at his failure, he decided that it would be best to take Larry and Slingerland into his confidence. Allie was waiting for him at the brook ford. "Oh, it was gone!" she cried. "Allie, I couldn't find the place. Come, ride back and let me walk beside you.... We'll have fun telling Larry and Slingerland."
An' when you're ridin' fast an' the herd is bunched it's hard to tell the difference. You boys stick close to me an' watch me first. An' keep one eye peeled fer Injuns!" Slingerland approached the herd without alarming it, until some little red calves on the outskirts of the herd became frightened. Then the herd lumbered off, raising a cloud of dust. The roar of hoofs was thunderous.
Neale rode on. Presently out of a lane in the dust he thought he saw Slingerland pass. He reined toward the side. Larry was riding furiously at him, and Slingerland's horse was stretched out, heading straight away. The trapper madly waved his arms. Neale spurred toward them. Something was amiss. Larry's face flashed in the sun. He whirled his horse to take Neale's course and then he pointed.
What right had the Government to steal land from the Indians, to break treaties, to run a steam track across the plains and mountains? Slingerland foresaw the bloodiest period ever known in the West, before that work should be completed. It had struck him deep this white-man movement across the Wyoming hills, and it was not the loss of all he had worked for that he minded.
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