The Legend of Eli CrowChapter 47
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The next morning early, the three had ridden no more than half a mile from camp, when Eli pulled his horse back.
“We got riders coming in, hold up and get your guns ready,” he told them.
They were suddenly surrounded by sixteen members of a cavalry patrol, handguns drawn and hammers backed.
“Stand your position men, United States Cavalry here. You’re trespassing on government property,” a big sergeant in front of the troop yelled.
“Mister, you best put them pistols away before we shoot every damned one of you dead’ern hell. Now ease them guns back down in that leather. I’m Eli Crow, United States Marshal out of Fort Smith, Arkansas, under the authority of United States District Judge Isaac Parker. If you don’t put them pistols down, I’ll arrest every damn one of you and haul your asses back to Fort Smith tied across your saddles.”
“Hold on there, Marshal, don’t be pulling your guns on us, we didn’t see your badges. ‘Sides that you wouldn’t have lived to arrest me and my men anyway.”
“You best give your men the order to rest them rusty pieces of iron back in them holsters, Mister, or I’ll cut your throat with my first .45 slug. Now you either put them guns up or you’ll be the first to die,” Eli told him in a voice that left no doubt in the cavalryman’s mind he meant what he said.
“Put your arms away men, we can settle this peaceably. That is if this fuckin’ hot headed half-breed marshal don’t get scared and start shootin’.”
Duncan and Moses were back a ways on either side of Eli, their scatterguns pointed at the cavalrymen, hammers backed and ready. They looked at each other when the sergeant overloaded his wagon with his cuss words aimed at Eli.
Eli turned his horse and rode right up beside the sergeant, his right hand resting behind him on the back of his saddle. He swung his right fist wide, leaning over to catch the sergeant on the point of his chin. He knocked the big man a complete flip, as he flew from his saddle, while his enlisted men watched. The corporal beside the sergeant reached for his army pistol again. Quicker than a snake, Eli pulled his Colt with the hammer back, pointed right at the man’s face over the top of the sergeant’s horse.
“Mister, you and your sergeant don’t have any jurisdiction out here. This is public lands owned by the United States of America. If you pull pistol on me, you’ll die in that saddle.”
“Hold up Marshal, maybe we got off to a bad start out here,” the sergeant said from the other side of his horse. He felt his chin to see if it was broken, then pulled himself up by his stirrup, still wobbly legged.
“You’re the one that got off to a bad start, Mister. I ought to get off this horse and whup your ass all the way back over to Fort Reno for cussin’ me like that. I don’t like men who call me names. Now see if you can’t get on your horse and get away from us. We got work to do out here,” Eli said, his voice still just above a low, growling whisper. He was madder’n hell and he knew he was, it’d been a while since he’d let a man make him this mad.
Eli knew he needed to cool off, so he dropped his Colt back in his holster as the sergeant spoke.
“We were sent out here to patrol these lands on the orders of Lieutenant DeBona, at Fort Reno under the command of Colonel Travis up at Fort Supply. He told us to run any and all who rode here, off these lands, or bring them to the fort if they refused to leave.”
“I shoulda known it’d be that whiny ass colonel that was behind all this. He’s the very one who told me the cavalry don’t have no authority over civilians, something to do with a Posse Comitatus Act. Now here he is sending his men out to arrest civilians. Just wait until I get back and tell Judge Parker about all this.”
“Are you sure about all that, Marshal?”
“Damn right I am. Tell your lieutenant to ask that scaredy ass Colonel Travis when you get back. Hell, we had to ride all the way from Fort Smith to the Kansas border, up above Fort Supply to arrest some bad men he was afraid of, just cause he couldn’t send his own men after them.”
“You don’t have a very high opinion of the colonel do you, Marshal?”
“Damned straight I don’t. He called me names and talked down on me like you did, cause I’m part Indian. I oughta took his damned hair when I was up there. I may just go back and get it now. This is coming real damn close to getting me riled up at his ass all over again.”
“Marshal, is it alright with you if we mount up and ride on out?”
“Which way would you be headin’, Sergeant?”
“Back toward Fort Reno, of course. I sure ain’t gonna stay here and be arrested and took back to Fort Smith.”
Moses and Duncan rode in closer, now that the threat of gunplay was over. They already had their scatterguns back in their scabbards.
“Moses Kidd, is that you? Hell fire man, I heard you was a Deputy U.S. Marshal, I reckon I heard right.”
“It’s me and I sure am a deputy marshal, Sergeant. I wish you’d rode in a little easier. You could’ve saved yourself a sore chin. Marshal Eli Crow don’t take to bein’ cussed and called bad names, can’t say that I blame him none either.”
“I damn well won’t make that mistake again, talking big on a man and callin’ him names before I even know who he is.”
“Why are you men having to patrol this land anyway, if you don’t mind me askin’?” Moses said.
“There’s been lots of folks trying to settle on these unassigned lands and stake a claim. They’ve even tried to start up towns out here.”
“You men been the ones that’ve took them off?” Eli asked.
“Yep, last year we took a bunch of them led by David Payne, up to Fort Reno. Then we took them on up to Kansas and set ‘em loose. They came back and we took ‘em to Fort Smith, where your Judge Parker let ‘em go with orders not to come back, when they couldn’t pay the fine.”
“You’re gonna keep on and get your ass caught in a crack with the law,” Eli told him.
“You seem to know a lot about the law out here, you learn it first hand?” The sergeant said.
“Not really. But since you asked, I got a son that’s a new lawyer back in Fort Smith. If you men keep on patrolling this part of the Territory, you may need his services before long.”
“Where y’all headed, Marshal, if you don’t mind me askin’, that is,” the sergeant said.
“We’re headed over to the west side of the Territory to hunt down some outlaws on Cheyenne and Arapaho lands. But first, we’re gonna go down and talk to the Chickasaws for a spell.”
“I really don’t know what we ought to do. I don’t want to be brought up for insubordination, but then again, I don’t want to be doing wrong out here.”
“Well, you do what you think you oughta do, just don’t be pullin your guns on me and my fellow marshals out here again. You’ll get the whole damn bunch of you killed. We’re the only ones got jurisdiction over civilians in the Territory; ask your colonel and your lieutenant when you get back.”
“We’re not due to return until next week. If we go back now, we’ll be asked why. I reckon we’ll just set up camp where y’all were and hunker down for a few days, then we’ll see what happens when we get back. If I say anything to Lieutenant DeBona about anyone questioning his orders, you’ll hear him holler all the way down there in Chickasaw lands.”
“Well, all I got to say is, don’t be pullin no guns on us or any other marshal; you’ll get your ass shot off. I’d even go on to say you better not be pullin guns on civilians in front of a marshal neither. They’ll have your ass standing in front of Judge Parker over’n Fort Smith, blue uniform, brass buckles, shiny buttons and all. You may or may not know it, but he’s known as the hangin judge and he come by that name honest too.”
“Don’t even tell us any more, Marshal. You’ve got us so messed up now, I don’t even know what to tell my men,” the sergeant said, then turned his horse and rode off back toward the Canadian.
“Eli, I know every word you told that man was true, but Lordy, you wrung his ass out with it, telling him over’n over,” Duncan said and the three men laughed as they bumped their horses’ flanks to make up time.
They rode on south for over three hours, pushing their horses, but not getting them winded. When they slowed to a fast walk, they looked ahead to see eight to ten Indians walking toward them. Two had long lances, three had bows and arrows, and they all had some sort of battle axe either in their hands or tied on their sides.
“I know two of them, Eli, they’re Chickasaws. They don’t have a lot of horses or guns, but they’re a proud people. I’ll talk with them, if you want me to,” Moses said.
“Since you know them, you see what we can do for them. If we have to, we’ll find them some horses and some firearms.”
“I’ll tell them that. They’re a friendly, peaceable sort anyway and that’ll make us good friends with them.”
“I’ll jump in if it looks like we might can buy some land from them, and we’ll make sure they get what Iron Hammer got for his too.”
“Chokma, my friends of the Chickasaw. I am Moses Kidd who was an army scout and now a United States Marshal out of Fort Smith in Arkansas. This is my two marshal friends and we would like to speak with our Chickasaw friends,” Moses said as they stopped a few feet from the Indians.
“Chokma, Moses Kidd. I am Spotted Owl. You stopped being scout and now you lawman, you have done good.” An older Indian spoke in broken English.
“How can we help our friend, the black-Indian scout who is now a lawman?”
“We came to see the great people of the Chickasaw. We would like to maybe buy some acres, is any for sale on your wide lands?”
“Who is it, Moses Kidd, that wants to buy Chickasaw acres?”
“It is me and my friends, Eli Crow and Duncan. We want to be friends with the Chickasaw and one day grow cows here.”
“When you grow cows here, will Chickasaw people trade more lands for cows? We are a hungry people.”
“Yes, more cows for more lands, we will pay one white man gold dollar for one Chickasaw acre,” Eli spoke up.
“Are you Eli? You are Cherokee blood?”
“Yes, I am Eli Crow. I am Cherokee blood from my mother.”
“Is the man Duncan, Indian?”
“No, but he is my brother and he is Moses Kidd’s brother.”
“Then he is Spotted Owl’s brother, and now a Chickasaw brother. Stand down from your horses; we have many land acres to sell our brothers.”
“In Cherokee lands, we buy one white man acre for one white man dollar, is your land the same?” Eli asked.
“Chickasaw land same as Cherokee land, how many acres Eli Crow want to buy?”
“I have one hundred gold coins worth twenty acres each, for two thousand acres of Chickasaw lands.”
“Let me see these gold coins.”
Eli took his pouch and dumped two coins in his hand and handed them to Spotted Owl.
“Eli Crow’s gold is heavy. We take the hundred coins for two thousand acres starting here on the north and go south, then west, then back north. Eli Crow like how that looks?”
“Yes, we will have many pecan trees and many grassy acres to grow cows.”
“We will have agent man mark our lands. He is a good man, he will be straight.”
“We will now go to the west two more days, then we will come back this way soon. We will make smoke if we do not see Spotted Owl.”
“We will look for Eli Crow’s smoke and make smoke of Chickasaw.”
“Ayali, Moses Kid, Duncan, and Eli Crow.”
“Ayali, to you Spotted Owl,” Moses told them goodbye, as they mounted to leave.
With a wave and a fast nod to their new friends of the Chickasaw, the three were on their way north and west at a fast gallop. They rode for miles to make up some of the time they’d spent making yet another deal for lands in Indian Territory. Late in the day, they came upon the South Fork of the Canadian River once more, where it curled back, making a wide grassy place near the water’s edge, the grass growing tall and green.
They pitched camp here, gathering brush and driftwood to build a fire. Duncan had developed a taste for coffee while being laid up at the house so long. He broke out his small pot Lorene had found for him, in hers and Corrine’s belongs, and made coffee. With warmed over biscuits from home, fried salt meat and a tin cup of hot coffee, they leaned back on their saddles to have a talk about buying more lands.
“Eli, there’s sure a lot of them pecan trees on that land. I saw a man selling pecans down in front of the courthouse last fall. He was gettin a dime a pound in the shell and two dimes for the ones he’d shelled. With all the trees you just bought, we could haul pecans outta here by the wagon loads,” Duncan said.
“That would be a good way to help pay back what we paid for the land, Duncan. We might even get Spotted Owl’s people to pick pecans up for us and pay them cows for it,” Eli said as they rested back on their saddles and ate.
“Wonder if they’d sell us pecans from their own trees, Eli? I saw pecan trees as far as I could see back there. You know, we could even let our cows eat the grass around the trees and use them for shade too,” Moses said.
“You two are getting good at coming up with ways to make us money. We’ll have to talk to them about all that. We could fix up a special freight wagon with tall sides and haul them pecans back to Fort Smith and up to Tulsa too.
“They already got the name changed from Tulsey Town to Tulsa and folks’ll start moving in over there by the bunches soon.
“They opened up a post office over there at Perryman’s Store last year, and the post office man told me there was over two hundred folks living in the town now. Hell I heard they even got the telegraph wires run down there beside the railroad now.”
“Eli, you’re part white and part Indian, what do you think about the way the white man keeps pushing the Indian tribes back on smaller reservations like they do and starving them half to death?” Moses asked.
“Moses, it’s hard for me to even watch what’s happenin’ over here. The white part of me wants to buy lands and be a part of this new territory that’s about to become a state in a few years. Then the Indian part of me wants to start over in Washington and whup asses all the way back down to Tulsey Town on my way back.
“You just look at Iron Hammer and his brothers, they don’t even have food, and folks are trying to kill what deer and few buffalo that’s left on their lands.
“Then we come down here and the Chickasaw don’t even have guns, or horses to hunt off of, and all of them, from Tulsey all the way down here, are about to starve to death. Makes me madder’n hell at all the whole damned white bunch on my daddy’s side, is what it makes me feel. If we can ever get some cows growing down here, we’ll help Spotted Owl and his folks a lot more. If we ever run upon some horses, whoever owns them better be ready to do some horse tradin’ too, cause we’re gonna get them Chickasaws some horses, one way or another.”
“I reckon it is hard on both of y’all, both bein part Indian like you are. It’s hard for me to see the hurt in them Indians’ eyes too as they talk about what all’s happened to them. Just like them Osages we run into up there, just tickled to death to get some coffee, and then the Poncas too, that didn’t have a thing to live on. I’m about like you, Eli, and ain’t no part of me Indian,” Duncan said.
“Well, we sure can’t fight the whole damned country, but we can help our friends by trading for land and cows. If there’s a way for us to sell pecans back over there, then we’ll make some more deals with the Chickasaws on that too. Damn it all, I just hate when I get mad all over like this, makes me want to whup somebody’s ass good,” Eli said as he put his tin cup down and slid down with his head on his saddle.
“Moses, we better watch him. We know when Eli gets like this, somebody up the road is about to get a butt whuppin’, and they don’t even know it yet,” Duncan said, then laughed as he slid down with his head on his saddle.
None of the three slept but a few hours and Duncan made a pot of coffee before daylight, dumping more coffee over the old grounds and adding water. They drank another cup before kicking the fire out and saddling up for the day. They knew they were in Cheyenne lands already and would be over close to the Texas border before dark. The morning sun was bright and warm at their backs in the early part of the day. Spring was all the way over here in Indian Territory too and the trees and grass were green and wildflowers were blooming everywhere.
By mid-morning they saw a dust cloud back to the west and stopped on a rise in the land to get a better look.
Horses.
Hundreds of horses were running and Indians were chasing them, roping some of them.
Eli, Duncan and Moses looked at each other and grinned, then rode out to meet the herd of horses and the Cheyenne. As the roundup continued, three of the Cheyenne rode toward the three lawmen who had stopped to watch the action.
“I am White Elk, Nétsêhésenêstsehe?” the elder of the three spoke, waving his hand in peace.
“I am Moses Kidd, we are United States Marshals out of Fort Smith, Arkansas, we speak no Cheyenne,” Moses spoke, recognizing the greeting, when the Cheyenne asked who they were.
“We speak some white man words. What brings you to Cheyenne lands, Moses Kidd?”
“We are sent to the far side of Cheyenne lands to hunt for outlaws who hide there. We saw your horses and we wish to speak to the man who sells horses for the great Cheyenne people,” Moses told him.
“We know of the men you speak of, they cause Cheyenne much trouble. We will show you where they hide, but first we will talk of horses. How many do you need, three?”
“Tell him we need one hundred, if the price is good for horses as fast and fine as his,” Eli said.
“You are Indian too, what tribe you come from?” the man asked Eli.
“I am Eli Crow. I am from my mother, a Cherokee by birth and my white father, Ezra Crow, out of Missouri.”
“Your friend, is he Indian too?”
“No, but he is my brother and Moses Kidd’s brother.”
“Then I have met three brothers this day, step down and let us talk about horses and white man dollars.
“Why do you need one hundred Cheyenne horses when only three of you?”
“We have made friends with the Chickasaw and we have purchased lands from them. They have no horses and we would like to help them.”
“If we sell you horses, you will give or sell them to Chickasaw Tribe?”
“We will sell horses for more lands, we want to buy some of their lands and grow cows.”
“Cheyenne lands grows much fine grass, good for horses to eat, good for cows to eat too. Would you buy lands from the Cheyenne?”
“We would buy your lands, if the price is good and the price of the horses is good. One day we will bring cows to this land and trade more land for cows each year.”
“Eli Crow is a wise man. Cheyenne horses sell for five white man dollars, our lands sell for same as Chickasaw lands. Our lands would be one cow for ten acres when Eli Crow brings cows to this land.”
“We purchased two thousand acres of Chickasaw lands for one gold dollar for one acre. We will buy one hundred horses at five gold dollars for one horse and buy two thousand Cheyenne acres for one gold dollar for one acre.”
“Does Eli Crow have that many gold dollars in his pouch?” White Elk grinned.
“Yes, we have the gold dollars and we will have many cows here in half a year’s time.”
“Then Eli Crow needs to count out my dollars. When cows come here, we will need fifty cows a year to feed my people. We will add more acres each year.”
Eli took his two pouches out of his saddlebags and counted the twenty dollar gold coins out on his blanket in stacks of ten. There were twelve and a half stacks.
“White Elk knows this coin? It is same as twenty white man dollars.”
“I know of such a coin, though I have had few of them. Eli Crow can pick his horses now.”
“White Elk knows his horses better than we do, I will let you and your men pick the hundred horses. We will come this way again when we have made our arrests of the bad men we’re looking for.”
“Then we will pick one hundred fine horses for the Chickasaw Tribe. We will have them for you when you return, Marshal Eli Crow. I will have my agent man mark your acres next to white man’s land over there. My men will take you to the place where the bad men hide on the side of Cheyenne lands and the side of white man’s Texas lands. They have a trading house and sell whiskey and women and they rob and steal from all who go there. If you kill all of them, I will smile one day for each one you kill.”
“Thank you, White Elk, mark the acres in the corner, down next to Chickasaw lands. I saw water pools there with the black water in them that is good for taking ticks off cattle and horses, we want that too,”
“Eli Crow is a very wise man; we have many of these pools. We will mark Eli’s lands so he will have many.”
“We will return in two days to see you once more. How many men are hiding there, we have papers for four.”
“There are more than four. I will smile for seven days, if you kill all of them.”
“I may not kill all; we need to take some back to stand before Judge Isaac Parker in Fort Smith,”
“Then I will still smile a day for each, dead or alive.”
They gathered up their blankets and rolled and tied them behind their saddles. When they were mounted, they waved and three of White Elk’s young men rode west with the three lawmen at a fast gallop.
The three young Cheyenne waved to the marshals and flogged their horses with leather straps as they leveled off across a wide flat plain with very little brush. They were spread wide apart, riding six abreast as they looked across at each other, grinning, urging their horses faster. The Cheyenne had good fast horses, but so did the three marshals, who’d built the wind in their horses for such a run against the outlaws. When they’d run for close to five miles, they all slowed and the taller of the young Cheyenne looked at Eli.
“Eli Crow and marshals have fine horses.”
“The Cheyenne have fast horses, we are proud to buy horses from such a fast herd.”
When they had slowed to a fast walk for a few miles, the Cheyenne pulled up and pointed to a log and sod house near a winding creek among some willows. There were a dozen horses tied to trees at different places around the house, and more horses in a big, willow pole corral to the side.
“What do you know about the men inside?” Eli asked as they squatted beside their horses, looking through the willow thicket at the building.
“They have whiskey and women and they steal from all travelers who come near here.”
“I see ten horses tied up with saddles, and another ten in the corral, how many men will be in there?”
“The ten horses in the corral will be stolen horses. The horses tied in front and to the side, will be men inside who will be drinking and laying with women.”
“Are the women white women or Indian women?”
“Some of both.”
“Are they held prisoners and forced to be here?”
“No, they come and go, they even bring travelers back here they meet on the trails.”
“Are there any towns close by?”
“Maybe half a day across Texas border, where the railroad passes.”
“Have you been to this town?”
“No, we cannot leave our lands, but we have talked to men who have. Big cow pens there where trains load cows.”
“Are you going back, now that you have showed this to us?”
“No. We want to see the battle, when three marshals take ten men.” The oldest smiled as he told Eli that.
The three young Cheyenne looked at the three young marshals and they all grinned. Duncan and Moses took their scatterguns from their saddles and Eli pulled his rifle from his saddle boot.
“Hold our horses for us, we’ll need the chains soon,” Eli grinned as he, Moses and Duncan ran for the house. Duncan and Moses ran toward the back and Eli headed for the front door. Eli saw Duncan and Moses step into the back doorway, then walked into the room. He looked the room over in a quick glance. He saw two mattresses in the floor on one side with three women and four men. There were two women and another four men drinking at a fine made oak table in the middle of the room. Two more men were behind a fancy bar, pouring whiskey from a big keg into bottles and laughing as they talked.
“Eli Crow, United States Marshal, out of Fort Smith, Arkansas. You’re all under arrest. If you hold real still you won’t die. You pull a gun and we’ll kill every damned last one of you, women included,” Eli yelled as he stood where he could cover the whole room.
Duncan and Moses had parted and stood where they could cover the room from the other side with their shotguns, without getting shot by each other. They had the hammers backed and the guns held at their waist. The two men behind the bar looked at Eli when he yelled. They dropped the bottle and funnel they were pouring whiskey into, the whiskey gurgling from the hole in the keg onto the dirt floor.
One of the men reached under the long bar for a gun. Eli pulled his Colt and fired. The .45 slug ripped a big gash across the top of his skull while he was bent over. The other man had dropped to the floor as Eli walked around the end of the bar. He was trying to get his hands on the double barreled shotgun, but the dead man was lying on the butt of the gun. He pulled a hand gun, and Eli shot him in the forehead as he looked up, fear in his eyes as he fumbled, trying to back the hammer.
The rest of the room had been caught naked and unaware. Duncan and Moses moved about, gathering up guns and knives. Duncan had just walked past one of the filthy straw mattresses when a woman raised up with a pistol she’d pulled from under the straw mattress. Moses heard the first click of the hammer and whirled to cut her nearly half into with both barrels of double aught buckshot through her lower back. He breached the gun and dropped two more shells in, then snapped the gun closed.
“If there’s anyone else pulls a gun, I’ll kill every damned one of you. Now just lay back with your hands up in the air. You there, at the table, drop your guns and lay in the floor so we can see you.”
“Fuck you, you sumbitchin’ Injun,” the man yelled and grabbed for his gun.
Eli shot him in the throat. He whirled quickly and shot the woman next to the man, just under her ear, as she reached for the dead man’s gun.
Eli turned to look at the other man sitting beside the one he’d just killed.
“You got a gun on you?” he asked, his gun pointed at the man’s face, the hammer back.
“Yes, but I ain’t gonna pull it, Marshal. Don’t shoot.”
“Lay that gun on the table real slow and you lay in the floor then.
“You there, get your naked ass in the floor too before I shoot you,” he said, looking at the last woman at the table.
As she stood to turn, she pulled the gun from the table and died with her right eye shot out, blood gushing from a big hole in front and one in back of her head.
Moses and Duncan looked at each other and each shook their heads as they made the other two women and four men get up from the mattress.
The other two men at the table with their backs to Eli had already raised their hands. They lay their heads down on the table and held their hands out and overhead as high as they could. Moses walked over and pulled their handguns and threw them through the back door. He threw two buckskin shirts at the women and told them to put them on.
They made all of them walk outside and lay in the dirt face down, hands and legs spread wide. There were only two women and seven men that walked out of that stinking place. Eli looked out where the three young Cheyenne were still hunkered down. He whistled and his big black horse pulled away from the Indians and ran straight to him. When his horse pulled away from them, they let the reins loose on Duncan’s and Moses’ horses and they followed Eli’s horse.
The Cheyenne watched as the marshals chained all the men and two women together, leaving them face down in the dirt. Eli rolled the cylinder on his Colt and dropped the five spent shells in the dirt, replacing them with live ones from his gun belt. The three young Cheyenne rode up on their horses. They were smiling as they looked down at the three lawmen.
“Bad men stand no chance against marshal brothers of the Cheyenne,” the oldest said smiling, then with a wave, the three turned and rode off slowly.
“Hot Damn Eli, just like old times, ain’t it? Damn I was shaking, but I was ready to shoot some asses when all at once, you’n Moses killed nearly half of ‘em,” Duncan said as they looked down at the prisoners.
“We need to gather up all the guns and bullets and see if there’s a wagon out back we can pile these outlaws into, we got a long ride back to Fort Smith.”
“I saw a wagon back there when we ran around back, Eli. I’ll get a team hitched to it and bring it around,” Moses said and walked around the building.
“I’ll be gathering up all the guns and bullets I can find, Eli, if you want to have a good look around in there,” Duncan said, as he glanced over at his friend.
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