Chapter 18 #2
And then there were the Chinese. Caleb had seen how they were being treated. The men were conscripted to build the railroads and then treated worse than dogs on the work crews. And the women? Caleb didn’t like to think about some of the back-alley brothels where he’d seen their gaunt, empty faces.
Caleb watched the other man in silence for a moment. There was nothing he could say that would ease his mind. Of course he was going to be cautious. He was a stranger. If their positions were reversed, if he were as vulnerable as they were, he’d do the same thing. He’d hide his family too.
But the fact that Caleb was alive said a great deal about these folks. They could have left him for dead, and no one would ever have been the wiser.
His host knelt back on his heels and extended a hand to him. Caleb shook it before realizing the man’s intention. He was offering to help him sit up.
The pain in his side was now a dull ache and didn’t bother him much when he sat. The older man ran the bandaging around Caleb’s middle.
“Marlowe.”
“Sing Lee.”
“Thank you again.”
A curt nod was his only answer.
Caleb ran a hand over his face. His mind wasn’t completely clear. Days were running into one another. He’d planned to get to Bonedale in two days. But he didn’t know if this was his second or third day on the trail. “How long have I been here?”
“Last night. One day.” Sing Lee closed Doc’s bag and put it closer to Caleb. “Doctor?”
“No. Not me. A friend of mine sent this with me. A rattler got me.”
Sing Lee motioned to Caleb’s leg. “Snakebite. Bad.” He then gestured to the stab wound. “Better.”
“Thank you,” he repeated. “I reckon you saved my life.”
The sound of a coyote, barking in the distance, drew the attention of both men.
“Your people ain’t all that safe out there. Dangerous animals could be hunting them woods. Coyotes. Cougars. Bears.”
Sing Lee understood him, but the look on his face spoke volumes. He considered a white man more dangerous than any forest animal.
“I get it. I’ll go.”
Caleb pushed to his feet but paused, fighting off a moment of dizziness. He leaned over to pick up his boots, but he needed to grab for the rock to stop himself from going down.
“Not well, Marlowe.”
“I’ll camp downriver a ways.”
Pirate’s panicked roar and the terrified braying of mules cut Caleb off.
“Something’s after the animals,” he barked.
Sing Lee stared in the direction of the sound.
“It could be a cougar.”
A woman’s scream ripped through the night.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the older man started running toward the sound.
Caleb could see no sign of his guns or his knives. As he limped after Sing Lee, he grabbed a burning brand from the fire.
In the darkness beyond the edge of the clearing, he came to the string of mules and Pirate. The mules were bucking and kicking and making a racket. His own mount was throwing his head around, and his eyes flashed in the light of Caleb’s makeshift torch.
Just clear of the animals, a tall young fellow—maybe fourteen or so—was flailing away with a stout branch at a half-circle of wolves that clearly had their minds set on a dinner of horse or mule flesh. Right beside him was a woman, wielding a hatchet and clutching a little shaver in her arms.
Sing Lee was only a few steps ahead of Caleb, and he dove into the fray, roaring out something fierce and brandishing a long knife.
Caleb took a stand beside the young man, making sure he stayed clear of the flying hooves. He would have thought that the added numbers might scare off the pack, but these hunters were not easily discouraged.
As he waved the burning wood at the gleaming yellow eyes and bared teeth, he realized the pack’s plans had suddenly changed.
It was as if some silent signal had been given.
Two of the wolves dashed off into the dark and reappeared on the far side of them.
The pack was trying to cut off any escape back to the camp.
They no longer wanted the mules or the horse. The burning brand in his hand had discouraged that. They were now going after the woman and the child.
The first time Caleb saw wolves hunting, he and Old Jake had been coming down out of the Bull Mountains in Montana.
In the grassland north of the Yellowstone River, they’d come across a wolf pack scattering a small herd of pronghorns.
There were about a dozen of these fast, gray hunters, all working together.
From a rise that gave them a clear view, the two men watched the wolves herd their prey down into a gulley with a shallow creek running through it.
Jake was just pointing out a young doe that he’d wager they meant to have for dinner.
It was clear they were working together to cull her out of the herd.
But at that moment, a big old buck went down in a patch of wet sand and stone.
That was all she wrote. The pack changed direction in the blink of an eye and was on him like there was no tomorrow.
Which was true for that pronghorn, at least.
One of the wolves made a try for her and the boy.
With a shriek, she let go with a hard swing at the gray head.
Her timing was perfect. She caught the animal in the ear, sending him rolling and yelping off to the side.
Up on his feet in an instant, the wolf decided this wasn’t the fight he’d signed up for.
He turned and ran unsteadily off into the darkness, shaking his head and trailing blood.
But the others weren’t backing down.
Another wolf immediately made a dash at them. Head low and teeth showing, he clearly meant business. Sing Lee was quick, though, and his blade caught the beast in the snout, drawing a cry as the snarling animal retreated to the others.
Caleb sidestepped by the tall boy, shoving him back toward the string of mules and Pirate. He threw himself in front, waving his torch at the pack. The wolves instantly became a constantly moving line. Suddenly, a smaller hunter feinted an attack as another streaked at the woman from the far side.
As Caleb turned and moved, his bad ankle gave out and he stumbled slightly, dropping the stick as he went down on one knee. Then the attacking wolf was in the air, trying to leap right over him, but Caleb rose and got a handful of gray fur.
He was a powerful animal, but Caleb was not letting go. He had the wolf by the thick mane. Teeth snapped at his face and the sharp nails of the front paws clawed away at him. Sing Lee was shouting over the snarls.
A gunshot cracked, exploding through the sounds of their struggle, and Caleb felt the wolf twist and jerk in his grasp.
For one absurd instant, Caleb thought he'd come all this way only to die protecting strangers in a mountain camp.
The notion would have infuriated Sheila, for sure.
After the shooting, the stabbing, and the rattlesnake, she'd probably march all the way to wherever he lay dead just to tell him exactly what she thought of his judgment.