Preacher's Journey Read Online Free Page B

war.”
    Preacher didn’t go into any more details about how the Arikara warrior Wak Tha Go had carried out a vengeance quest on one particular white man, namely Preacher himself. In the end Wak Tha Go had died and Preacher had lived, and that was all that needed to be said, or remembered.
    â€œSince then, the Arikara have been pretty peaceful,” Preacher continued. “Not only that, their usual stompin’ grounds are at least a hundred miles east of here. Something must’ve really got ’em stirred up for them to be way over here in the mountains, attackin’ wagon trains. You boys know anything about that?”
    â€œOf course not,” Jonathan replied immediately. “We’ve never even seen any Indians like these before, have we, Geoffrey?”
    â€œNo, I don’t believe we have.”
    Preacher wasn’t sure whether to believe the two old-timers or not. Some instinct made him doubt what they had just told him. Yet he had no evidence that they were lying. They might really have no idea why the Arikara had attacked the Galloway wagon train.
    â€œLet’s get these old boys buried,” Preacher said. The rest of it could wait until after that grisly task was completed.

FOUR
    Preacher didn’t bother digging a grave for the six corpses. He found a nearby gully, dumped the bodies in it with the help of Geoffrey and Jonathan, and caved in the bank to cover them. He knew it was a mite disrespectful not to treat them according to the customs of their own people, but he wasn’t a ’Ree, and besides, they’d tried to kill him. He might not hold that against them, but it didn’t make him inclined to do them any special favors neither.
    When he and the two old-timers got back to the wagons, Preacher saw the towheaded boy standing near the dun. “Does he bite, mister?” the youngster asked.
    â€œHe just might,” Preacher said as he strolled over. “Might nip a finger right off. You got to worry more about gettin’ behind him, though. He’s liable to kick you if you do, and you don’t want that to happen.”
    â€œNo, sir,” the boy agreed solemnly. “I’m Nathan. They call me Nate.”
    â€œPleased to make your acquaintance, Nate. They call me Preacher, but you know what name I was borned with?”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œArthur.”
    Nate made a face. “That’s not a very good name.”
    â€œWhy, sure it is!” Preacher said with a grin. “Ain’t you never heard of King Arthur and his knights?”
    â€œWell . . . I reckon maybe. But you’re not a king, are you?”
    â€œNo, but I’m somethin’ better than a king.”
    â€œWhat’s better than a king?”
    â€œA mountain man. A fella who lives free, who goes where he wants and ain’t tied down to no old throne. I wouldn’t know for sure, but I suspect it’s a whole heap o’ hard work bein’ a king. I wouldn’t want the job, no, sir.”
    Nate laughed. “I don’t think I would either.”
    Preacher inclined his head toward the wagons. “I saw a couple of other young’uns earlier.”
    â€œThose are my cousins, Mary and Brad. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, but I will soon. That’s my mama who was yelling a while ago. She’s having a baby.”
    Preacher nodded. “So I heard. You want a brother or a sister?”
    Nate made a face again. “I don’t particularly want either one. But I guess whatever I get will be fine.”
    â€œYou best be grateful you won’t be an only child no more. I got a brother and sister, but I ain’t seen ’em in twenty years. I miss ’em somethin’ fierce sometimes.”
    â€œThen why don’t you go and see them?”
    â€œI’ll do that,” Preacher said. “One of these days. Run along now, and don’t get too near this old horse. He’s used to me,