Bendigo Shafter (1979) Read Online Free

almost wished my sister Lorna was with them instead of Mae. Lorna was pretty, too, prettier than Mae, but Lorna was like Cain in some ways, a cool-thinking girl. If anybody could have found a way out, Lorna could.
    There was nothing to do but go back home. There was a chance they had found their way back, but nobody would have bet on it. Ethan fell in beside me as we started back. He had faced directly away from that dump of trees, taken the wind at a certain angle on his face, and led off. It was the only guide in a storm like that, and although the wind might shift it wasn't likely to shift that much at this stage of the storm.
    Bendigo, are you. game to take a chance? I've a notion where those Indians might be.
    Just the two of us?
    We'd not make it out and back tonight. Are you with me?
    To my dying day I shall remember that blizzard. Ethan moved up to Cain, who had taken over breaking trail. Hold across the wind, he advised. Let it take you on the left eye and nose, like. You'll reach sight of the valley in a few minutes. Once over that low ridge, hold along the edge of the trees above Mrs. Macken's and you'll make it.
    Cain stopped. He turned his broad back square to the wind and looked at Ethan. What about you?
    Bendigo an' me, we've an idea. If worst comes to worst well just dig a hole in the snow and sit it out. A man can wait out a storm if he doesn't exhaust himself first.
    We faced into the storm and plodded away, leaning against the wind. Darkness had come upon us, and the wind blew a full gale, cutting at our exposed brows like knives. It seemed an age before we climbed a knoll and stumbled into a thick stand of aspen where we stopped to catch our breath.
    The day we fetched up to this place, Ethan explained, I spotted the sign of eight to ten Indians with their travois, lodges, and goods. Not wanting to frighten the women-folks I said nothing. Maybe they were passing through, but that snare was reset, so I figure they're close by.
    It was almost still inside the aspen grove. The slim trunks stood so close they formed a barrier against the wind.
    The best place for those Indians to wait out a storm is in the hollow right below this hill, so we're a-goin' down there.
    Cold or not, I loosened the buttons on my coat and laid a hand to that old pistol of mine. Never in my born days had I drawn against any man, and I had no mind to unless the need was great.
    You keep that handy. An Indian respects strength but mighty little else.
    We went down the hill through the deepening snow, smelling smoke on the wind, and sure enough, the lodges were there, three of them, covered with snow except around the smoke hole at the top where the warmth had melted the snow away.
    We listened outside each lodge until we heard Mae speak and some arguing among the Indians. Ethan lifted the flap and went in, with me right behind him.
    A small fire burned in the center of the tent, and the air was stifling hot and smoky after the cold outside. Right off I spotted Mae and the youngsters beside her. They seemed unhurt, only scared.
    There were five buck Indians in there. One young brave was on his feet arguing, and he was mad as all get-out.
    The others were older, and the one at whom the buck seemed to be pointing his words was oldest of all. Now that one might be old, but his eyes were clear, and it seemed to me I saw a gleam of malice in those eyes, like maybe he didn't like that young buck too much.
    Talk broke off when we came in, and the young brave put a hand to his tomahawk. The next thing I knew he was looking into the business end of my six-shooter.
    Now he was no more surprised than I, for I'd no thought of drawing that gun. It just fetched out when the need came, and young as that warrior was, he knew what that gun meant, and he let go of his tomahawk like it was red hot. Ethan Sackett, he started talking to that old Indian in Shoshone. After a minute he stopped talking, and the old man spoke. Ethan interpreted for me out of the