Jul 7
Chapter 15: A Different Brand Of Justice
The horses had been bound together with a technique that Cutty had never seen before. They had all been tied to a forty-inch branch that allowed them to move freely and graze without getting tangled. It lowered down as they fed and then rose when their heads straightened back up.
Cutty vowed to remember this for the future. It provided for both security and a limited amount of mobility. It had been invented by the Cheyenne and was used extensively throughout the southern plains. The Colonel had been right when he said: “The Native Americans are noted for their prowess in stealth and tactics.”
Cutty untied the horses from the branch, and—with three of the reins in his right hand and two in his left—started to walk them slowly toward the fire.
He knew his next move would be costly, but he needed to create as big a diversion as he could. It would only leave five shots in his Colt, but the effect would be worth the bullet—at least that’s what he hoped.
He Reminded Himself About Hoping Again
The Colonel had warned Cutty repeatedly about “hoping.” “Wishing for a certain outcome is not worth the mental effort you will put forth. Keep your attention focused on the task at hand. That will afford you the best chance of success.”
Cutty slapped the lead stallion on its **** as he fired his Colt up into the night sky. At the report of the gunshot, all five horses took off toward the fire like they were being chased by the underworld God, Hades. Entering the mouth of the ravine, there was not enough room for them to go around and avoid the fire.
They Charged Straight Through
The horses charged across the fire, as the five cowboys looked on in drunken horror. There were smoke and flying embers everywhere. Two of the cowboys at the far end stood up and tried to run but were trampled by the horses before getting very far. The lead cowboy, Jack, managed to get to his gun—before leveling it in Cutty’s direction and firing.
Cutty redrew his Colt while dropping to one knee. He sighted his big .45 and fired before Jack could get off a second round. The bullet went straight through Jack’s right shoulder—causing him to drop the big Peacemaker as he fell back away from the now scattered fire.
Cutty picked up Jack’s gun and ran toward where Not-Many-Prisoners was tied. As he cut his restraints, he handed him Jack’s gun saying: “There are five shots left in the cylinder. Here’s six more rounds in case you run out.”
They both turned to face the startled cowboys who were now crawling through the dirt trying to make sense of it all. With a KIAI that none of these rustlers had ever heard before, Cutty advanced. One by one, he grabbed the men and threw them face down onto the dark ground. He then yelled to Not-Many-Prisoners: “Tie them up with their hands behind their backs. I’ll tie the one that I shot after I check on his wound.”
The KIAI Had Been For Not-Many-Prisoners Benefit
Cutty checked on Jack’s shoulder. It was bleeding profusely, but it was a clean wound, the bullet having missed any bone or cartilage as it passed through. Cutty grabbed the bandana from around Jack’s neck—***** as it was—and wrapped his shoulder. “This will help to stop the bleeding,” Cutty said. “Keep pressure on it with your other hand. It’s better than you deserve, but you might just live if you keep it from bleeding out before you get to a doctor.”
Jack had been staring at Cutty’s blouse as he doctored his wound. “So, you some kinda government agent?” Jack asked, as Cutty started to walk away.
“I’m a Major in the United States Army, here to investigate charges that rustling has been taking place on government land. I can see now that the rumors have been true. In addition, you were getting ready to commit capital ******. I am ordering you—and your men—to stay here until my detachment comes back to pick you up.
If you’re not here when they arrive, they will hunt you down like the wild dogs that you are. I need to get this Indian Scout back to headquarters. We know who you work for and what you’ve been doing.”
“You Are All Under Military Arrest”
Cutty tied Jack’s right hand to the top of his other arm. He knew he had just stretched the truth, but he wasn’t above doing that if a man’s life hung in the balance. He looked across the scattered but still burning embers ...
Not-Many-Prisoners had a look on his face that Cutty had not seen from any of the Piegan Elders before. El Cristo had been the first to look at him that way when he had mortally wounded his son, Elligretto, in Seville. His expression transcended the present moment—as it acknowledged Cutty’s immortal warrior spirit.
Not-Many-Prisoners then ran into the darkness, in the direction that the horses had just gone. In less than ten minutes he was back with all five of them in tow. “How was he able to find them in the dark, and to have done it so quickly?” Cutty wondered.
Horses, when frightened or startled, will often run for miles without stopping. He was sure when he fired that shot from his big Colt, those five had been both. The Colonel’s assessment about Native Americans—a breed of men Cutty had only met once before in Abilene—rang true again tonight.
At West Point, the native cadets had been masked in eastern tradition, hiding the best parts of themselves.
Cutty Jumped On The First Horse As He KIAI’d Into The Darkness!!
The horses had been bound together with a technique that Cutty had never seen before. They had all been tied to a forty-inch branch that allowed them to move freely and graze without getting tangled. It lowered down as they fed and then rose when their heads straightened back up.
Cutty vowed to remember this for the future. It provided for both security and a limited amount of mobility. It had been invented by the Cheyenne and was used extensively throughout the southern plains. The Colonel had been right when he said: “The Native Americans are noted for their prowess in stealth and tactics.”
Cutty untied the horses from the branch, and—with three of the reins in his right hand and two in his left—started to walk them slowly toward the fire.
He knew his next move would be costly, but he needed to create as big a diversion as he could. It would only leave five shots in his Colt, but the effect would be worth the bullet—at least that’s what he hoped.
He Reminded Himself About Hoping Again
The Colonel had warned Cutty repeatedly about “hoping.” “Wishing for a certain outcome is not worth the mental effort you will put forth. Keep your attention focused on the task at hand. That will afford you the best chance of success.”
Cutty slapped the lead stallion on its **** as he fired his Colt up into the night sky. At the report of the gunshot, all five horses took off toward the fire like they were being chased by the underworld God, Hades. Entering the mouth of the ravine, there was not enough room for them to go around and avoid the fire.
They Charged Straight Through
The horses charged across the fire, as the five cowboys looked on in drunken horror. There were smoke and flying embers everywhere. Two of the cowboys at the far end stood up and tried to run but were trampled by the horses before getting very far. The lead cowboy, Jack, managed to get to his gun—before leveling it in Cutty’s direction and firing.
Cutty redrew his Colt while dropping to one knee. He sighted his big .45 and fired before Jack could get off a second round. The bullet went straight through Jack’s right shoulder—causing him to drop the big Peacemaker as he fell back away from the now scattered fire.
Cutty picked up Jack’s gun and ran toward where Not-Many-Prisoners was tied. As he cut his restraints, he handed him Jack’s gun saying: “There are five shots left in the cylinder. Here’s six more rounds in case you run out.”
They both turned to face the startled cowboys who were now crawling through the dirt trying to make sense of it all. With a KIAI that none of these rustlers had ever heard before, Cutty advanced. One by one, he grabbed the men and threw them face down onto the dark ground. He then yelled to Not-Many-Prisoners: “Tie them up with their hands behind their backs. I’ll tie the one that I shot after I check on his wound.”
The KIAI Had Been For Not-Many-Prisoners Benefit
Cutty checked on Jack’s shoulder. It was bleeding profusely, but it was a clean wound, the bullet having missed any bone or cartilage as it passed through. Cutty grabbed the bandana from around Jack’s neck—***** as it was—and wrapped his shoulder. “This will help to stop the bleeding,” Cutty said. “Keep pressure on it with your other hand. It’s better than you deserve, but you might just live if you keep it from bleeding out before you get to a doctor.”
Jack had been staring at Cutty’s blouse as he doctored his wound. “So, you some kinda government agent?” Jack asked, as Cutty started to walk away.
“I’m a Major in the United States Army, here to investigate charges that rustling has been taking place on government land. I can see now that the rumors have been true. In addition, you were getting ready to commit capital ******. I am ordering you—and your men—to stay here until my detachment comes back to pick you up.
If you’re not here when they arrive, they will hunt you down like the wild dogs that you are. I need to get this Indian Scout back to headquarters. We know who you work for and what you’ve been doing.”
“You Are All Under Military Arrest”
Cutty tied Jack’s right hand to the top of his other arm. He knew he had just stretched the truth, but he wasn’t above doing that if a man’s life hung in the balance. He looked across the scattered but still burning embers ...
Not-Many-Prisoners had a look on his face that Cutty had not seen from any of the Piegan Elders before. El Cristo had been the first to look at him that way when he had mortally wounded his son, Elligretto, in Seville. His expression transcended the present moment—as it acknowledged Cutty’s immortal warrior spirit.
Not-Many-Prisoners then ran into the darkness, in the direction that the horses had just gone. In less than ten minutes he was back with all five of them in tow. “How was he able to find them in the dark, and to have done it so quickly?” Cutty wondered.
Horses, when frightened or startled, will often run for miles without stopping. He was sure when he fired that shot from his big Colt, those five had been both. The Colonel’s assessment about Native Americans—a breed of men Cutty had only met once before in Abilene—rang true again tonight.
At West Point, the native cadets had been masked in eastern tradition, hiding the best parts of themselves.
Cutty Jumped On The First Horse As He KIAI’d Into The Darkness!!
