Читать книгу Shaman's Dream: The Modoc War - Lu Boone's Mattson - Страница 44

And in the morning, when it had stopped snowing and cleared up again, Black Jim shouted over by Keintpoos’ place. Bogus Charley ran out with the others. And he saw the tracks where the wagon came in. Against the thin white layer of snow, the parallel lines from the wheels were dark where the ground showed through. The marks led in from the road and over to where there had been a pile of rails. But now there was nothing except some trampled-down grass. He could see where another wagon had come in, and that pile was gone, too. And when he followed the tracks back out toward the road, he knew they were going to turn up toward the agency, and they did, sure enough, do it. And then he and Jack took off running until they caught up with the Klamaths. He and Jack could hear the harness jingling ahead of them on the road and the groaning of the heavily loaded wagons. The Klamaths weren’t trying to hide or anything. Just going along toward the agency like nothing was wrong.

“Hold on there,” said Jack, and the Klamaths hauled back on the lines and the mules stopped, their breath cloudy in the morning air. The drivers turned on their seats, half smiles on their faces, the lines held up by their chins like it was a temporary interruption.

“Where you think you’re going?” said Jack.

“Hello, there, Keintpoos,” the man in the first wagon said. “Bogus Charley, howdy.”

“I said, where you think you’re going!”

“Well, looks like it’ll be to the agency,” the wagon driver said, nodding down the road.

“You took my rails,” said Jack.

“No. They ain’t yours.”

“We cut ‘em.”

“Don’t matter. They’re ours. Our trees. Our land. Cut posts, we’ll take them, too.”

The driver turned back toward his team and clucked to it, flapping the leather straps against the mules’ rumps. And the wagons lurched forward again, leaving you standing in the road. And you turned around and followed your footprints back toward the camp, Jack cursing, the muscle in his jaw wadding up and smoothing out, wadding up and smoothing out while he ground his teeth.

“Get ready, Bogus,” he said. “Get your horse. You talk for me.”