按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
d she looked around uneasily。 The walls were covered with old rifles； buckskins； boards with arrowheads glued on； Civil War memorabilia； plaques displaying different types of barbed wire。 A row of moldering old books ran along one shelf； bookended by huge pieces of unpolished petrified wood。 An entire stuffed horse； an Appaloosa； worn and moth…eaten； stood guard in one corner。 The floor was littered with dirty laundry； broken saddle trees； pieces of leather； and other bric…a…brac。 It was remarkable： the entire place was like a dusty museum devoted to relics of the Old West。 Corrie had expected to see mementos of Vietnam： weapons； insignia； photographs。 But there was absolutely nothing； not a trace； of the war that reputedly had changed Brushy Jim forever。
Brushy Jim handed Corrie and Pendergast cans of Coke。 〃Now； Mr。 Pendergast； just what do you want to know about the massacre？〃
Corrie watched Pendergast set the Coke can aside。 〃Everything。〃
〃Well； it started during the Civil War。〃 Brushy Jim threw his massive body into a big armchair； took a noisy sip。 〃You know all about Bloody Kansas； I'm sure； Mr。 Pendergast； being a historian。〃
〃I'm not a historian； Mr。 Draper。 I'm a special agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation。〃
There was a dead silence。 Then Brushy Jim cleared his throat。
〃All right； then； Mr。 Pendergast。 So you're FBI。 May I ask what brings you to Medicine Creek？〃
〃The recent homicide。〃
Brushy Jim's look of suspicion had returned； full force。 〃And what；exactly； does that have to do with me？〃
〃The victim was a relic hunter named Sheila Swegg。 She'd been digging in the Mounds。〃
Brushy Jim spat on the floor； twisted it into the dust with his boot。 〃Goddamned relic hunters。 They should leave the stuff in the ground。〃 Then he looked quickly back at Pendergast。 〃You still haven't said what the murder has to do with me。〃
〃I understand the history of the Mounds； and the Medicine Creek Massacre； are intertwined。 Along with something I've heard referred to locally as the 'curse of the Forty…Fives。' And as you may know； a large number of Southern Cheyenne arrows were found arranged with the body。〃
A long time passed while Brushy Jim seemed to consider this。 〃What kind of arrows？〃 he finally asked。
〃They were of cane； feathered with bald eagle primaries and tipped with a type II Plains Cimarron style point of Alibates chert and Bighorn red jasper。 A matched set； by the way； in almost perfect condition。 They date to around the time of the massacre。〃
Brushy Jim issued a long low whistle； and then fell into silence； his brow furrowed with thought。
〃Mr。 Draper？〃 Pendergast prompted at last。
For another moment； Brushy Jim was still。 Then； with a slow shake of his head； he began his story。
〃Before the Civil War； southwestern Kansas was pletely unsettled； just Cheyenne and Arapaho； Pawnee and Sioux。 The only white folks were those passing through on the Santa Fe Trail。 But settlement was rolling this way from the frontier； which at that time was eastern Kansas。 Folks had their eye on the good range in the valleys of the Cimarron River； the Arkansas； Crooked Creek； and Medicine Creek。 When the Civil War broke out all the soldiers went off； leaving the territory defenseless。 The settlers had been brutalizing the Indians and now it was payback time。 There was a whole string of Indian attacks along the frontier。 Then when the Civil War ended； a lot of soldiers came back； armed and bitter。 They'd seen war； Mr。 Pendergast。 And I meanwar。 That kind of violence can do something to a man。 It can damage the mind。〃
The man paused； cleared his throat。
〃So they came back here and began forming vigilante groups to push the Indians west so they could take the land。 'Clearing the country；' they called it。 There was a group formed over in Dodge； called the Forty…Fives。 'Course； it wasn't Dodge then； just the Hickson Brothers ranch。 Forty…five men； it was； some of the worst dregs of humanity； murderers and crooks pushed out of settled towns farther east。 My great…grandfather Isaiah Draper was just a boy of sixteen； barely in long pants； and he got sucked into it。 I guess his thinking was he'd missed the war； so he'd better hurry up and prove his manhood damn quick while he still could。〃
Brushy Jim took another noisy sip。
〃Anyway； in June of '65 the Forty…Fives went on a rampage； heading down the criks south of the Canadian and Cimarron and into the Oklahoma panhandle。 These were Civil War veterans who knew all about fighting a mounted enemy。 They were hardened men； tough； survivors of the very worst sort。 They'd been through the fires of hell； Mr。 Pendergast。 But they were also cowards。 If you want to survive a war； nothing helps like being a chicken…livered； yellow…bellied poltroon。 They waited until the warriors had gone off on the hunt and then attacked Indian settlements at night； killing mostly women and children。 They showed no mercy； Mr。 Pendergast。 They had a saying： nits make lice。 They even killed the babies。 Bayoneted them to save ammunition。〃
Another sip。 His low gravelly voice in the dark cool room was hypnotic。 It almost seemed to Corrie that he was describing something he himself had seen。 Maybe he had； in a way 。 。 。 She averted her eyes。
〃My great…grandfather was sickened by what he saw。 Raping and killing women and cutting up babies wasn't his idea of being a man。 He wanted to leave the group； but with the Indians all riled up it would've been certain death to peel off and try to get home alone。 So he had to go along。 One night they got drunk and beat the hell out of him 'cause he wouldn't join in the fun。 Busted a few ribs。 That's what saved his life in the end…those broken ribs。
〃Toward the middle of August they'd rampaged through a half dozen Cheyenne camps and driven the rest of them north and west out of Kansas。 Or so they thought； anyways。 They were returning to the Hickson ranch when they came through here。 Medicine Creek。 It was the night of August fourteenth they camped up at the Mounds…you been to the Mounds； Mr。 Pendergast？〃
Pendergast nodded。
〃Then you'll know it's the highest point of land。 There weren't any trees back then； just a bare rise with three scrub…covered mounds on top。 You could see for miles around。 They posted pickets； like always。 Four sentries at the pass points； posted a quarter mile from camp。 Sun was setting and the wind had kicked up。 A front was ing in and the dust was a…blowing。
〃My great…grandfather had those broken ribs and they'd laid him down in a little holler right there behind the Mounds； maybe a hundred yards away。 With the broken ribs he couldn't sit up； see； and the dust at ground level was just about driving him crazy。 So they put him in this little brush shelter out of the wind。 I guess they felt sorry for what they'd done to him。
〃Just as the sun was setting and the men were getting ready to eat dinner； it happened。〃
He tilted his head back； took a long swig。
〃There was a sound of beating hooves right on top of them。 Thirty warriors on white horses； painted with red ochre； came out of the dust。 The Indians were all duded up with painted faces and feathers and rattles…and they came howling； arrows