Slocum and the Thunderbird Read Online Free

fer a fight nigh on three months,” said Rawlins.
    â€œRawhide’s right, fer a change. They don’t like the white man diggin’ up their land for gold.”
    Slocum quieted the two. They both stewed in their own juices. When they were about ready to pop from the strain of not arguing, he motioned them to follow. It had been the better part of a half hour. The Sioux braves should have finished watering their mounts and gone on their way.
    He let out a pent-up breath when he saw he was right. Darkness had fallen, making it difficult to see. The moon wouldn’t be up for another hour to light their trail. If he remembered rightly, it was three-quarters waxing full and, clouds willing, would give them light enough to ride deeper into the Badlands.
    â€œFill your canteens, too,” Slocum ordered. “We don’t know when the next watering hole will spring up in front of us. Either of you come this way before?” He didn’t have to see them shaking their heads in the dark to know they all rode blindly into terrain that swallowed up unwary riders without a trace.
    Retreating was out of the question. That would put them into the arms of the law from Halliday. Slocum had the feeling in his gut that the marshal wasn’t the kind to give up easily. Not finding the bank robbers on the road would only incense him.
    â€œScary ridin’ after dark like this,” Dupree said.
    â€œGive your horse her head,” Slocum advised. “She’ll do better than you can in the dark.”
    â€œAin’t never knowed a horse that could see in the dark like an owl.” Dupree craned his neck around and added, “Night’s so dark the bats’ll stay home.”
    â€œMoonrise in an hour,” Rawlins said with confidence.
    Slocum let the two ride ahead as he brought up the rear to keep a sharp lookout. Less than a half hour later, he was glad he had not let either of them watch their back trail. The sound of ponies alerted him to the Indians coming after them.
    He considered falling back farther, then ambushing the war party. When he caught sight of the leading two riders, he smiled. He could take care of two warriors. Then his confidence faded when he saw dark shadows crowding close behind the leading riders. He stopped counting when he reached ten.
    Urging his horse to greater speed, he overtook Rawlins and Dupree at the mouth of a canyon.
    â€œWe got big trouble,” he told them. “Those were only scouts back at the watering hole.”
    â€œScouts?” Rawlins said uneasily. “You see a big war party?”
    â€œWe’re not going to fight them. Outrunning them is our only chance.”
    Slocum looked around. A canyon angled off to their right. The one stretching ahead looked more promising since it took a sharp turn to the left only a hundred yards in. A quick look at the canyon rims warned him they had no chance in hell of finding a trail and getting out of the winding maze of rocky walls.
    â€œFast. Don’t worry about being quiet,” Slocum said. He caught the rattle of unshod hooves against rock behind them. “If we have to find a place to make a stand, I want it in a canyon where the Sioux can’t flank us.”
    â€œYou got the sound of a military man ’bout you, Slocum,” said Rawlins. “Seems like there’s a whale of a lot about you we ain’t heard yet.”
    He had no time to relate his experiences with the CSA as a captain, even if he had anything there to brag on during his service. Slocum led them in deeper, took the sharp bend, and immediately began hunting for a spot to ambush the Indians. Outrunning them wasn’t going to work. And he knew outfighting them wasn’t likely any better a plan, but he wanted to die fighting rather than allowing himself to be taken captive. A war party might decide to torture their prisoners.
    â€œSlocum,” Rawlins said fearfully. “This here canyon don’t