Wellington's Quest by Robert F. Clifton (best books to read now .TXT) 📕

The fact that Jim need a quality horse, one that could travel miles over open prairie along with a pack horse presented a problem. At that time the good horse were needed by the Union Army. After renting a horse and carriage from the livery stable he rode out with an interpreter to where the Mdenakanton's, a tribe of Indians that fought with the settlers had a small herd of horses.

As he walked slowly around the corral, looking, hoping to see one, particular animal that would be strong and healthy enough to endure the long, days, weeks, perhaps months of travel he noticed a Cayuse roan.

When the horse was brought out of the corral Jim inspected the animal. Looking first at its teeth, then each hoof, its coat, the eyes. Satisfied that the horse was healthy he then asked, “Has the horse been broken for riding?”

“Yes”, came the answer.

Jim stepped back to estimate the size of the animal. He judged it to be about fifteen hands. Not too large a horse, but about the right size for a Cayuse. He then picked a large, jenny mule from the herd. “Alright, let's talk price”, said Jim.

The Mdenakanton man then thought for a moment then pointed to a saddle, blanket and bridle. Jim walked over and inspected the tack. It was used, but not worn. “How much for everything, horse, mule and tack?”,he asked.

“He wants three hundred dollars”, said the interpreter.

“Tell him I'll give him two”, Jim responded.

“Tympanum”, said the interpreter.

After thinking over the offer the Indian nodded his head in agreement.

As he placed the tack on the back of the carriage and was about to hitch the horse and mule to the rear of the buggy an old, Mdenakanton woman walked up to him, smiled and said, “Le mita pila sica si”. Then she walked away.

Jim asked the interpreter, “What did she say?”

“She said, Many thanks, Bad Foot”.

“Oh, she noticed my limp. She may be old, but she still has the eyes of a hawk”, said Jim as he climbed up into the carriage.

********************

At the end of June, 1863 the Minnesota Column of Calvary left there their home state, walking their horse through the throngs of people. The citizens were there to give the men under Colonel Sibley's command an appreciative send off. The soldiers smiled and waved. Henry Sibley, removed his hat and turning his head left, then right acknowledged those in the crowd.

Jim shook hands with Milford Wilcox. “Now, I hope you find that girl of yours. Mind you, it won't be easy. Henry is taking this column out to punish the Sioux. Knowing the Indian he won't sit and take it. There will be war and possibly many battles. Use your head and don't do anything foolish. I'll see you when you get back”, said Wilcox.

“Thanks for everything Milford. I hope to find her”, said Jim, speaking loudly as the local band began to play, “The Girl I Left Behind Me”.

Jim climbed up into the saddle and nudged the Cayuse forward. Reaching the rear of the column he took his place behind the last supply wagon. The line began to move and Jim began the journey to find the girl that he loved.

Two days later Sibley's command rode out on to the grassland of the Dakota Territory. The prairie was a yellow color. Here and there some green grass grew, still unaffected by the heat of day and the lack of rain. Small, rolling hills broke up the view of the horizon and Ponderosa pines grew, some in scattered locations. In other places large stands appeared dark in the distance. Shortly after noon they traveled past a large slump block, where at one time the soil around the solid rock now large and standing erect slid away and down from the stone. In the distance, pronghorn antelope grazed. Prairie flowers and barley grasses grew and at time the Cayuse walked through tall growths of wild sunflowers the yellow flora reach the horses belly.

The scouts of the Minnesota Volunteers rode out each day going in different directions looking, searching for signs of the Sioux, but finding nothing day after day.

With the men, horses and mules needing a rest Sibley made camp near a running creek. There the animals were led to drink and the barrels attached to the sides of the supply wagons were filled. As the sunset, cooking fires were started and began to blaze. Sentries were posted to guard the site and doubled where the horse herd was located.

Jim looked out at the grassland, seeing a prairie dog village in the distance. A lone coyote searched for a meal and the available daylight began to diminish. As it did the warmth of the day dwindled and the cold air over the land made its way into the on coming night. He felt the chill at the back of his neck and pulled the collar of the short, wool coat up to ward off the breeze as he knelt and built his cooking fire. From his canteen he filled a tin cup and heated the water. When the water began to boil he cut two pieces of beef jerky, placed the dried meat into the steaming liquid and created a type of jerky soup. With the hot pottage he munched a few, dry, crackers.

After his supper Jim walked to the edge of the creek. Here he washed his cup and filled his canteen. First making sure he was upstream from where the horses had been watered. As he turned to leave he saw a tall man approaching the arroyo. “Evening”, said the man. In the fading light Jim recognized the man as one of the scouts.

“Good evening”, Jim responded.

The scout offered his hand and as the two men shook hands they introduced themselves to each other. “My names Abner Dooley”, said the man. “Jim Wellington”, said Jim. “So they tell me that you fella's haven't found any sign of the Sioux”, Jim continued.

“Oh we've found sign, but old sign. Camp fires used about two months ago. Antelope bones with knife marks, things like that. Nothing recent however", said Dooley.

“Maybe we're on a wild goose chase”, offered Jim.

“No, they're out there somewhere. Just a matter of time before we run into them. I notice that you're not in uniform. I figure you to be a news reporter. Am I right?”, asked Dooley changing the subject.

“Nope, I'm just a deputy trying to serve a warrant on a Sioux” Jim explained.

“Mind if I ask you the name of the Indian you're after?”

“He goes by the name, Matosapa”.

“Black Bear? Never heard of him. What's he wanted for?”

“I figure he killed my family, burnt my house to the ground and took my fiance' captive. He also is believed to have killed other settlers and burned private property”, said Jim.

As the two men walked towards the encampment Dooley said,”Listen, I've got a good fire going. The coffee pot is still hot and half full. How about joining me for a cup and we can pass the time jawing. I'm interested in this Matosapa fella. Maybeso, I'll run into him sometime”,

Jim sat on the cold, hard ground. The hot coffee in the tin cup warmed his fingers and as he sipped the brew he felt the warmth of the fire. He sat looking over the rim of the cup at Abner Dooley, wondering about him, wanting to know more about the man.”How did you become a scout?”, asked Jim.

Dooley seemed to be taken by surprise at the question. “Damn if I know. Maybeso because I know the tribes. Not all of them mind you, but enough about the one's we're looking for. I know the Crow, the Sioux, Cheyenne. Lived with the Crow and the Sioux at one time. Spent an entire winter with the Crow. So, to answer you question I can read sign that they leave in the earth when they cross over it. I can speak their language. In particular, Sioux. So because of these traits, they pay me a good dollar”, answered Abner.

“Mind if I ask you just how you gained all of this experience?”, Jim inquired.

“Not at all. Left home when I was seventeen Went into the Rockies to be a trapper. Didn't like working for the fur companies. So I struck out on my own. Way I see it I went into the mountains in 1850 and by 1851 I was an independent business man', said Abner with a chuckle.

“I figure you to be a mighty fine trapper”, said Jim.

“What makes you think so?”

“You still got your hair”, Jim replied.

Dooley laughed. I was a fair trapper. I liked the life, the solitude, the wilderness. There be many beautiful sights in them rocky mountains Jim Wellington. Beautiful sights”, answered Dooley.

“Why did you leave?” asked Jim.

“Truth be told. Demand for fur, particularly beaver ran out. Other reason was I lost my Crow wife to a Sioux war party.”

“So, you married an Indian girl”, said Jim.

“Yep. In English her name was Graceful Bird. On the day we hitched up I moved into her mother's tipi. That's a Crow tradition. Crow women build large lodges in order to house large families, they also rule the roost”.

“How long were you married?”

“Three years. One day she left with some of the other women to visit relatives in another village. About half way there the Sioux found them. They killed them all after raping and butchering them”.

“Is that why you scout?”, asked Jim.

“Not really. Hell, I'm damn near fifty years old. Too old to do manual labor, like farming. Thought about California back in forty nine. It finally came down to my needs and they be, three square meals a day, payday every month, a pint of whiskey now and then and laying up with a whore, be she white, black or red once or twice a year. Besides, there's the fact that I'm one lazy bastard”, answered Abner as he tossed the dregs of his coffee into the fire. “I'll tell you something tho. Killing a Sioux warrior kinda eases the pain of loosing her”.

“Well, guess I'll call it a night”, said Jim.

Abner Dooley picked up his canteen twisted off the cap and took many swigs of water. “Indian trick. If you want to get up early you drink a lot of water before going to bed. Needing to piss wakes you and you're up and about. The General ain't allowing any bugle calls until we find the Sioux. So, no reveille in the morning”.

“Good night Abner”

“Good night Jim Wellington”.

The next morning pink clouds colored by the sunrise drifted slowly over and outlined the tall grass in the distance. After breakfast the troopers walked their mounts down to the creek and let them drink their fill. At the same time many of the men filled their canteens. Jim looked around for Abner Dooley, but did not see him. Later, by the cook wagon he learned that all of the civilian scouts had been in the saddle before sun up.

Horses were saddled and mules hitched to supply wagons. The command, “Forward!” was given and the Minnesota Calvary Of Volunteers began to move. As usual Jim took his place at the end of the long, moving line. They traveled now through the grassy hills of the Dakota Territory. The once, flat, prairie was now undulated by the grass covered mounds and knolls. The pink clouds of the morning turned to white and moved slowly in the blue sky. As the sun climbed higher over the horizon the heat of the morning increased as men and animals made their way mile after mile.

Jim dismounted and removed the wool coat he wore to thwart the morning chill. Folding the garment he then tied it behind his saddle using strips of rawhide. Mounted again he nudged the Cayuse forward and as he did he began recounting the days he had been in the