Exert from Captain Jeb Tredle's diary.
Jul 8 1878 Damn but today was a hot one. The mercury must have been all the way to the top! Not much happened today out here on the frontier. The indians have been quiet, except for the prairie dogs. Heard some bad things about them from the crows. Seems that they might be on the warpath again. I have been sending out more patrols just to be safe. Trigger has been keeping me up to date on troop morale, ...damn but I couldn't ask for a better horse, The three otters under my command are miserable out here in this dry plain. There is a river about a 100 miles to the south. Perhaps next week I will send Krige out on a long patrol with them down there. It is almost time for the afternoon meeting with the settlers that came in yesterday. How I hate talking to the farmers!
Jul 16 1878 Trigger looked up from eating the grass and turned his head to the side to look at Captain Jeb. The rusty coated fox was looking out over the plain at the distant smoke. The settlers had come this way about a week before, having headed out right after a meeting with Jeb at the fort. "Hey Jeb, what you think?"
Jeb grunted. "I don't know Trigger. Them prairie dogs have the Smith family. Damn Savages! Lets go Trigger, and get back to the fort."
"Yes sir!" Trigger turned around the the hill and set off at a nice trot down to where the handful of other people waited. He whinnied to two of the younger colts and they all set off with him. Jeb started to talk with some of the other riders.
"We are going to have to go in and rescue them Krige." The old badger nodded to Jeb. "This is going to turn into a long week Krige."
Krige looked over at Jeb and grinned. "Ah, it will be fun sir. Rescuing people always is!"
The afternoon wore on. Plans were made for a foray to the north past the buttes where the Prairie Dogs' territory was, and no other authority held sway. Captain Jeb reviewed his options. He could take troops and storm the buttes in hopes of taking everyone by surprise, but that didn't guarantee the Smiths would come out of it in one piece. "Damn! What options beyond this do I have. If I go in there whole hog, the Smiths may not make it! Yet, I don't want to go up there without being in a place of power! This could get very messy!"
The old Badger nodded. "Seems all you young-uns have the same solutions for whatever goes on out here. In my day, we didn't have that to worry about. 'Twas a simple matter of sitting down to talk."
Captain Jeb snorted. "We have more men now. We don't have to negotiate. We can ride in and demand what we want. They can't stand in the way of us or the Western Movement."
Krige shook his head. "Seems to me you might be going about this in all the wrong ways this time. You could at least try negotiations. It IS their territory and they have never seen fit to leave it unless provoked."
Captain Jeb looked down at his list of troops and resources. Krige tapped the papers and shook his head.
"Considering the fact, Sir, that we haven't the manpower to make a full frontal attack or the weaponry, what else can you do?" He pointed out. Captain Jeb turned from the table. "Krige, you've been out here longer'n any of us. You know them better'n me. If you think you can do better, go out there and talk with 'em. Let's see why they left their territory and took the Smiths hostage."
Krige nodded.
Trigger stuck his head in the window. "Cap'n! Cap'n! There's a mob of Prairie Dogs comin'! They've got the Smiths with 'em!"
Captain Jeb ran out the door. Across the dry praire an entourage of Prairie Dog warriors came, weapons held high as a show of force. In their midst, in an old buckboard wagon were a group of disheveled gophers, the Smiths. The Chief of the Prairie Dogs came forward with his council of chiefs and waited well outside the fort for those inside to come to them.
"Damn! Heh! Heh! Krige, looks like you won't have to go to them. Looks like they came to play with us. I wonder what they want?"
Krige slapped his hat on his head and headed out the door. On his way to the front gate he grabbed two young otter recruits and pressed them into duty as guards and stormed out.
The Prairie Dog principal chief left his mount and came forward. He smiled at Krige. "Very long time, Anger Like Thunder. My heart is glad to see you. You will aid us in this time of trouble."
Krige met the old chief, clasping forearms with him. Swift Arrow, my old adversary and friend. I will do what I can. There is a lot of anger because of what you did. You should not have taken the Smiths captive."
The old chief gestured and the buckboard was brought forward. "We do not want them. We give them to you!" He frowned at the settlers who hurriedly got down from the buckboard. "We did not harm them. It is not our way to harm those who cannot fight, or women and children."
Krige noted the Smiths were not harmed but dirty and haggared in appearance. "You folks all right?"
"If you mean harmed, no! My farm was torched... and all we had was destroyed!"
Hiram Smith came forward. "These damned savages took ev'rything and destroyed it."
Krige waved him to calm down. He looked to the Old chief. "Is what he says true?"
"Yes, Anger Like Thunder. They built in Horse Creek near Eagle Butte. That is our land by treaty rights."
Krige nodded. He glanced to Hiram. "Seems you might have trespassed. They coulda killed all of ya, but chose to bring ya here. Mighty lucky! Mighty lucky."
"Since when you gonna take the side of savages?" demanded Hiram. "We have a right to land wherever we want! Damn them. if they don't wanna let us have it, kill them off! There's no room for us and them!"
Krige shook his head. "Attitudes like that's what starts bloody wars. Mr. Smith, go on and bring your family into the fort. We'll getcha all cleaned up and fed." He turned to the old Chief. "Swift Arrow, I'll take you up to see Captain Jeb, my commander. He's a young hothead but pretty fair. He holds that written documents are law, so the treaty will be safe."
Swift Arrow nodded. "I and my council will come. My warriors will wait here for our return.
Krige and his two recruits escorted the Chief and his council into the fort. They crossed over the parade ground to the building that held Captain Jeb's office. Watching out the window Captain Jeb realized they would not all fit in his small office, and went outside to meet his guests. As the Captain stopped on the edge of the boardwalk, he nodded to Krige and the otters. They moved aside and the Captain stepped forward smiling. Krige gestured toward the officer as he turned to Swift Arrow and his council. "My friends, this is Captain Jeb. He is the leader of this here fort and speaks for all of us. Cap'n, sir... this here is my friend, Swift Arrow, ...he is the principal chief of the prairie dogs and these men are his council. They have brought the Smiths to us. It appears that the Smiths built their farm on territory deeded over to the prairie dogs by the government in a treaty. The prairie dogs just booted them out as trespassers, sir.
Captain Jeb nodded and looked around "Is that so? How are the Smiths?
"Well, their a might bedraggled and ornery, sir. Seems they think they can own any land they want... like they have some God given right to do as they please."
The Captain's face clouded over as he frowned, "I don't like the sounds of that... Bring Mr. Smith to my quarters later on."
Erika Smith looked up from where she sat, feeling all grungy and icky, and so did Melissa. She snuggled her singed little doll, looking around at all the army men in their funny suits and at all the prairie dogs in their funnier clothes. 'Why does everyone wear such silly clothes...?,' she asked herself, still trying to figure out why her mommy was so scared and why her daddy was so angry at the prairie dogs. She sighed, and looked up past the silly wooden walls with no roof... 'Why build walls if you don't put up a roof too...?' She watched the big birds flying in circles off in the distance. She frowned, and tried to see them better, but she'd dropped her glasses on the way out of the new house... Finally, she realized something, slipped off the barrel she was sitting on, and scampered over to one of the otters in the funny blue suits. Stretching up on her toes, she *tug tug tugged* at his cuff. "Sir...? Why're those big funny birds flying in circles...?"
Krige sighed, his good ear already picking up the approaching patter of some rugrat's feet, trying to keep his mind on the beginnings of the argument that was starting between this Mr. Smith and the prairie dogs. His ear quirked, though, at the child's question, but held his tongue... better not let them know... he's not all that deaf yet...
"Soldier? What's your problem?" Krige's well-known and well-practiced bark snuffed the argument before it rose to a shouting match. "
"Sir, there's a flock of buzzards just a little to the southeast. I'd guess whatever they've found is within a few minutes from here."
"Your point?"
"Well, sir, if we were fully staffed, I wouldn't have one. But since we don't have a watch up anymore..."
Jeb nodded. "Take a glass and see if it's still alive, and if we should be interested."
The otter nodded, and trotted off to the tower, scampering up the ladder as if he were simian. Jeb turned his attention back to the slowly reheating argument.
"I think, MIS-ter Smith, that these treaties prove that you WERE on their land without their permission. However, I think that these gentlemen would be happy to allow you to reside there IF you asked..."
Krige smiled a little, carefully keeping it a smirk to hide his mellowing mood. The kid had done good again, it seemed, putting the gopher in his place and yet still not having to force anyone to go through TOO much extra work. His good ear quirked again, hearing a muttered curse, then the rapid scampering of otter paws on ladder rungs. "Sir!"
"Well, soldier?"
"Sir, whoever's out there's definitely alive. I think we should be interested."
Jeb once again took control. "Then it might JUST be a good idea to GO SEE, don't you think...?"
The otter rocked back onto his heels, and nodded after a brief moment's pause, running off to hitch up a wagon.
---
. o O ( Just a little farther...) A mantra. A driving force. Hands and hooves cracked and bleeding, eyes bleared, mouth dry, arms too weak to bat away the birds anymore... she could barely make out the blur of a dust cloud heading towards her before she passed out.
---
"Is she okay?" Erika asked the otter standing guard by the door of the room where the strange lady the soldiers had rescued from the desert heat was recovering. The soldier looked down, annoyed.
"Shouldn't you be in bed, miss?" he asked, leaning on his rifle.
Erika shook her head. "I'm a big girl, and it's not even sundown yet, *mister*." She pointed back towards the mostly empty barracks the Smith's had taken over until their farm could be rebuilt. "Melissa is a little girl, so I put her to bed, but *I* can stay up later."
The otter chuckled. "You'd have to ask the doctor, miss. And he's most likely asleep by now."
"Well, where --"
"It's very late, miss. Go to bed." The guard stifled a yawn.
Erika pouted and walked off towards the barracks, breaking into a run when she was twenty feet away.
Late that night she crept out of bed, careful not to wake her parents. She knew it was okay for her to be up late since she'd gone to bed so *extra* early, but sometimes her father didn't understand when she fixed his rules...
So she quietly opened the door and walked across the fort to the lady's room. The otter was gone but there was a big rat in a uniform in front of the door, asleep. So she snuck past him as quietly as she could, opened the door and entered the room.
The room was full of beds and smelled really bad, sort of like the barn after her father killed a chicken for market, back when they'd had a real farm, and sort of like the scary store in the city where he bought the bottles and pills he told her never to touch. There were sleeping soldiers in several of the beds, covered in bandages. At the very end of the room was the strange lady from the desert. Erika padded softly down the aisle until she got to the lady's bed, and stood on her toes to take a look.
Erika's eyes widened. A weasel? Way out here? Her father had told her all the weasels had stayed back in the old world, although she knew there were a few in the cities. And they'd been squinty old men with gray fur, not tan and black. She gave a little eep. The weasels had always scared her.
The desert weasel lady opened her eyes with a start, gasping for breath. "Who... are... you?" she said slowly, in a strange accent.
"My name's Erika, weasel lady," Erika said quietly, "I'm a big girl."
"Erika... weasel," she leaned to the edge of the bed and looked Erika over, "Big girl?"
"HEY!" squeaked a voice from behind her, and both of them turned to see the rat guard, awake, pointing his weapon at them. "What are you -- hey, you're the Smith kid? What are you doing in here? Get going before I call the captain and have you fed to the indians."
Erika squeaked and ran off in terror as fast as her paws could carry her.
Elle watched the young girl... Erika, that was her name... scamper away in sheer terror. Turning her eyes, dimmed though they were due to exhaustion, she glared at the guard. "Why did you scare the little one? She had done nothing."
The guard had the good sense to be embarassed, "She was here against orders ma'am. The Captain said not to let anyone disturb you."
"Captain? What Captain? For that matter, where am I?" Elle was starting to be confused. Obviously she had been rescued, but by whom? The uniform seemed familiar, but then again....
The guard seemed honestly surprised, "Why, you're in Fort Salali, commanded by Captain Jeb. Best da.. uh, danged Captain in this man's Army."
Elle nodded, absorbing that information. Fort Salali.. that fit something she vaguely remembered, a feeling, a person? She shook her head to clear it. "How long have I been here?"
The guard seemed glad to be on safe ground again, "Only a few hours ma'am, and that's the truth of it." Suddenly remembering his manners, "Uhm.. ma'am, would you like me to get you something to eat, or perhaps drink?"
"Water, please. And would you also send word for the Captain to come see me, if he would?"
"Yes ma'am, right away." With a quick spin, the rat guard was out the door, leaving Elle to her thoughts, and questions as she waited for her drink, and the enigmatic Captian Jeb.
<Excerpt from Captain Jeb Tredle's diary>
July 20, 1878 Elle seems to be recovering from the heat stroke that must have overcome her in the last days she was out there on the plain. We are still talking with the prairie dogs about the treaty and such. Finally got it down to them that they should be a little more polite to trespassers like the Smiths, or in other words... remove their stuff from the home and barn and such, then burn it down. Seems to be working out alright. Back to Elle though. Trigger has been talking with her a lot. She does not seem to remember much about things. She always seems on the edge of asking us something though. It is almost strange sometimes. Krige watches her all of the time with his eyes. There is something there that he sees. I think that I should take care of that today. I sent half of the otters under my command out on a long patrol down to that south river. They seemed rather happy with that assignment.
Jeb walked out of his office after putting away the diary. He nodded to the guard over to one side. "Where is Krige now solder?
The rat perked his ears. "He is over by the Water tower sir... with the smith yelps."
Jeb nodded to the soldier and made his way across the grounds of Fort Salali. He came up to Krige and smiled as the old badger was giving horse rides to the kids. They were all having a grand time. "When you are done trying to be Trigger, do you think that we can get a chance to talk, Krige?"
Krige looked up from under the paws of Melissa. "Yes sir," He turned to look at the kids... "Need to take care of grown up things, Kids... run along now!"
Jeb nodded to Krige and started to walk off away from any ears. "Krige, you have been here far longer then anyone else. I have heard that this fort was named by the indians. Not us. What does the name mean?"
Krige laughed. "Most of the new soldiers don't even know that. Means squirrel, after a Chief of one of the tribes to the west." He looked over at the Captain. There was something else on his mind though.
Jeb noddled. "Can you tell me anything about the woman Elle? I have seen that you watch her a little more closely than people normally should. You know who she is?"
Krige winced. That was just the question he didn't want to hear. "Yes, I know who she is. Even though she does not seem to remember. I met her a long time ago. Back when I was a young soldier no older than the boys we have here." The old badger chuckled softly... "We were, 'interested,' in each other at one time."
Jeb nodded. "We need to talk with her then."
"Yes sir."
Elle was sitting on the bed in the sick room and looking at some beads that she had gotten from one of the children in the fort. Something danced at the edge of her mind... why she was here.
Captain Zeb and Krige walked slowly across the compound toward the hospital wing. "Have you talked to her, Krige?"
Krige sighed. "No. Don't think she'd be interested in a ol' coot like me anymore. Can't say's ah know why she's out here and all, either. It is surprising though."
"Well, I AM interested in why she risked her life to reach this place. Krige, ...talk to her. If you knew her, maybe she will open up to you. She sure hasn't to anyone else." Captain Jeb nodded toward the building and turned toward his office. "Let me know what you find out!"
Krige shook his head. This was going to be harder than he thought. He had hoped to stay on the edge of things, not to have to be in the line of sight. Too much time had gone by. Too many things had happened in his life. . . .
---
"Hello, Elle. . . ." Krige stood in the open doorway and tipped his hat to the weasel woman who gazed out the window. "Long time, no see. . . ."
Elle turned abruptly toward him and brought her hand up to her neck. She gazed at him for a moment with mouth agape and colorless eyes. Something pushed her forward and she walked slowly toward him. "Krige . . . I . . . hoped you would be here. . . ."
"You know me well," sighed Krige. "How has life been for you?"
Elle came closer. "Not that bad. I have missed you all these years."
Krige looked away. "Elle, that was a very long time ago."
"One does not forget the male in her life. . . . Why did you leave?" Elle came face to face with him and cocked her head to one side. A smile spread over her face.
Krige gazed at the grayed features of her face, still lovely after all the years. "You haven't lost it, Elle."
Elle laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled his bristling neck tenderly. something. Elle, you didn't come all the way out here to tell me that."
"I know . . ." She turned and walked back to the window and gazed across the compound. "I had to find you. I hoped you might be able to use what I learned a month ago."
Krige's smile vanished. "Trouble?'
Elle did not look at him. "I was in Abilene. The Comancheros came through. The town was razed to the ground. Oh, Krige . . . " She broke into tears. "I lost everything . . . we all did . . . family, friends . . . Krige, they're planning to destroy all the forts along the western line. If they do, there'll be nothing to stop them from taking this state!" Elle crumpled into a chair. Krige ran to her side, knelt and held her. She wrapped her arms about him tightly.
"I had to come . . . Krige, you have to stop them. You have to do something!"
Krige held her gently, comforting her. Old feelings came rushing back. He nuzzled her tenderly. "I'll do what ah have to, Sweet. I'll tell the Captain. He will put together a force to go after them. Do you know where they are now?"
Elle shook her head and sobbed. "No . . . They were headed toward Fort Hobbes when they left Abilene. I don't know where they are now. . . . Oh, Krige . . . they killed everyone in town they could find. . . ."
Krige helped her to find strength and left to talk to the captain.
Captain Jeb walked across the compound with the Chief of the Prairie Dogs. "Then it's all settled. The Smiths won't come into your land again and you will let us patrol your borders now and then to make sure other settlers don't get the be-jabbers scared out of 'em if they trespass."
The old chief nodded and smiled. "We will detain those who do and place them on the borders for you to take."
Krige appeared from around the building and hurried to meet them. "Captain! I have something urgent to tell you!"
Swift Arrow smiled and turned away. "You have other business and is time we go!"
Captain Jeb waved and turned to Krige. "What did you find out?"
"Comancheros, sir. They're making a move to destroy all the forest along the line. It looks like they're making a move to take the state!"
Swift Arrow stopped and stood tall. The word . . . Comanchero . . . stuck in his throat.
"They hit Fort Hobbes already," Krige said.
"Damn! No wonder supplies and reinforcements haven't come!" Captain Jeb was galvanized. "If they're hitting all the forts of the line, we're in deep trouble. Without troops and supplies we'll never hold out!"
Krige nodded. "What's your plan?"
Swift Arrow returned. "Comancheros? We hate them for what they do to our women and children. They are our sworn enemies! If you need help, our Nation will fight by your side. And if we are swift, our neighbors, the Blackfoot Ferrets may be persuaded to join us!"
"Krige?" Captain Jeb turned to him, wide eyed.
"Could work. with a force that size, we could survive an attack and maybe turn the tide in our favor." Krige grinned.
Captain Jeb smiled at Swift Arrow and offered his hand. "Done! Bring all who want a fight against the Comancheros. We will be victorious!"
Swift Arrow clasped the Captains arm and shook. "It will be a good day to die!"
Krige nodded sharply. "A good day to die!"
Captain jeb nodded. "Aye, a good day to die!"
Swift Arrow hurried away. The course had been set. A lot of preparations had to be done. . . .
Jeb looked over the crowd inside and around the fort, the group somehow looking chaotic and organized all at once. Rows and rows of the rather battle-happy blackfoot, brandishing wicked tomahawks and spears, waiting behind the makeshift, although rather nasty-looking barricades. Atop the walls of the fort stood a good number of the prairie dogs, with bows, and... well, sharp pointy spiky things that looked like they were meant to be thrown... And in the center yard, the meager military forces of the original guard, quickly picking through the two supply wagons the blackfoot had shown up with, along with a sheepish apology. "They were where they shouldn't have been... We let them run away..." Krige had even brought out his old double-tubed cannon of a shotgun, idly fondling the pile of shells that sat beside him in the tower.
He grumbled to himself quietly, tossing another sticky-bolted rifle onto the slowly growing pile of useless weapons. "I think we've got enough here for us all, plus you're assigned revolvers. Cartridges are in the boxes posted by the doors, and if things go badly, the prairie dogs excavated an escape route last night. Form ranks by the doors when the call is sounded, and those on the ends had better not drop any cartridges when you pass the reloads." He snapped the lever closed on the last rifle, and looked up grimly. A lump formed in his throat, and he started to shiver. "We may die today." There. He'd said it. It didn't make him feel any better. He rattled off the last command quickly, mechanically. "If anyone is wounded, priority is to retrieve him. If we're forced to go through the tunnel, there's dynamite planted around the support beams. We'll be the last to go. Lure them in here, and detonate the fort around them."
He nodded, and the group prepared themselves, settling by the doors to wait.
Hiram looked around at the frantic final preparations, and spat a full mouthful of chewing tobacco into the spitoon near the door. "'S'not rite tah ming... mangl.. work with them injuns. Dem's gon' get us all dead..." Stealing himself with the last of the whiskey bottle, he stumbled to his feet, and picked up his old rifle... "If'n them soddlers ain' gon' do this rih.. Rigghet... Cor-RECT-ly, I's jus' gon' haffa save us all.." he muttered, and stumbled to the door...
Krige's eyebrows nearly shot off his head when he saw the roiling cloud of dust approaching. Grimacing, he braced himself against a post, and fired both barrels skyward, the double blast echoing eerily about the fort. The sudden numbness in his arm told him of his slight miscalculation his age had played out. "If'n I'm only gonna get one shot at a time, so be it..." he muttered, plugging in two fresh slugs and aiming towards the growing figures almost casually...
Jeb looked up to the tower, and sighed. "And the first seal was broken..." he muttered over the still-ringing echo, and winced as Krige's gun thundered again, rattling his jaw even this far away. A part of him wondered how the old coot could pick his targets as lazily as if he were shooting skeet, another wondered how he could dump and reload it so fast, and yet another wanted to curl up into a little ball, whimper, and hope he'd wake up and mommy would tell him it was all a bad dream and give him a biscuit and a drink and tuck him in again, maybe leave the lamp on higher, maybe... Too many maybes. But the biggest part of him was almost mechanical as he watched the ranks form up, and frown as one of the ferrets tried to climb over the barricade, only to be pulled down by one of his smarter brethren. But all his parts were shaken to the core when he saw the little figure standing determinedly out between the two groups, arms raised up in a 'stop!' gesture... a little singed doll hanging from one outstretched paw...
Kridge cursed and held his fire. It was the blasted Smith girl! That family was no end of trouble. "Jed, do you see --"
The comancheros didn't stop, though, and she was quickly lost from view in the horde.
Hiram screamed at the top of his lungs, "It's all your fault! You killed my daughter!" Barely able to walk, he took aim at Jed and fired off three quick rounds. The fox dropped to the ground, drawing his pistol. "And you indians, comancheros, ...you're all in it together!" He started firing randomly into the blackfoots and prairie dogs, that turned in shock and betrayal and rage.
Meanwhile, the comancheros rush forwards.
To be continued.