Читать книгу House of Purple Cedar - Tim Tingle - Страница 17

Mingo and Hardwicke's Men

Samuel Willis waited till everybody else was asleep before he rose, carried a bucket to the creek and drowned the fire, sending a smokey sizzle over the clearing. Younger children snuggled close to older ones.

Even Colonel Mingo napped and woke up off and on, till Samuel touched his shoulder, saying, “Colonel. Wake up, sir, please.”

“What? Samuel. I am awake.”

“Some men, four of ’em, rode up not long ago. They been watching us, just out of firelight. There.” He pointed to a clump of trees in the direction of the house. Mingo eased quietly to his feet and said, “Sam, you stay here and keep a close eye on these babies. Don’t let any of ’em know about these strangers. No need scaring the children.”

“Yes. I’ll watch ’em, Colonel.”

“Good, son. I know I can trust you.” Samuel saw his hand move to his hip, to the carved antler handle of his Bowie knife. Mingo moved through the woods away from the men, as if he were going to the corn patch to relieve himself. Samuel shook his head at the savvy ways of his friend and teacher and turned to his promised watch over the children.

Once out of eyesight, Colonel Mingo double-backed on himself and made a wide circle around the woods, creeping low among the surrounding bushes and trees. Lying close to the ground, he studied the men. Four men, just as Samuel had said. He watched their mannerisms, their tense and ready way of crouching, saw the gear lying beside their ponies.

Small ponies for quick getaways, he noted. He waited till the sound of laughter from the house caught the men’s attention, then crept close enough to hear them speak.

“If Hardwicke was here, we’d already be on our way home,” said a short stout man. “He’d start with the barn, I’m telling you. He’d torch it from all sides, then nail the door shut soes they couldn’t follow us. Them horses would die from the smoke.”

“Ain’t no way we could get to the barn without them seeing us,” said another.

“Besides,” said a third, “the marshal said to just let him know if they’re planning anything. He didn’t say nothing about no burning. Not tonight, at least, not till he knows which way the new Indian agent is gonna see things.”

“Yeah, Hardwicke talks about keeping a watch out. But if he was here, he’d figure out a way to put a torch to that barn. Knowing him, he’d set fire to the old man’s house too. Maybe kill some Indians, get ’em on the run. You all know that’s what he’d be doing.”

Colonel Mingo slipped back to his campsite, his heart pounding with every step. He carried with him a terrible secret. Mingo knew who set the fire that burned New Hope. He also knew that if he shared the secret, many of his friends would die.

He found Samuel pacing back and forth in the shadows, watching.

“Samuel,” he said, “these men were sent by Marshal Hardwicke. I don’t think they want any trouble, but one of ’em is talking about setting a fire to the barn, so we have to keep an eye on ’em.”

“I can stay awake and let you know if they cause any trouble.”

“That’s a good idea, Samuel. I’ll stay with the children and you keep an eye on Hardwicke’s men. We don’t want any bloodshed.”

“I understand,” said Samuel. “I’ll report to you every few hours till morning.”

“Be careful,” Mingo said. Samuel nodded and disappeared into the shadows.