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Indians were all duded up with painted faces and feathers and rattles…and they came howling； arrows flying。 Right out of nowhere。 Surprised the hell out of the Forty…Fives。 Made a couple of passes and killed them all； every last man。 The sentries saw nothing。 They hadn't seen any sign of riders approaching； hadn't heard a sound。 The sentries； Mr。 Pendergast； were among thelast to be killed。 Now that's just the opposite of what usually happens； if you know your western military history。
〃It weren't no cakewalk for the Cheyennes； though。 The Forty…Fives were tough men and fought back hard and killed at least a third of the attackers and a bunch of their horses。 My great…grandfather saw the whole thing from where he was lying。 After 。 。 。 after killing their last man； the Indiansrode back into the huge clouds of dust。 Disappeared； Mr。 Pendergast。 And when the dust cleared there were no Indians。 No horses。 Just forty…four white men； dead and scalped。 Even the Indians' dead warriors and horses had vanished。
〃A patrol of the Fourth Cavalry picked up my great…grandfather two days later near the Santa Fe Trail。 He took 'em back to the site of the massacre。 They found the blood and piles of rotting guts from the Indian horses； but no bodies or fresh graves。 There were hoofprints all around the hilltop but nowhere else。 No tracks went beyond where the sentries had been killed。 There were some Arapaho scouts with the Fourth； and they were so terrified at the lack of tracks ing and going that they began wailing that these were ghost warriors and refused to follow the trail。 There was a big uproar and several more Cheyenne villages were burned by the cavalry for good measure； but most folks were glad the Forty…Fives were gone。 They were a bad bunch。
〃That was the end of the Cheyenne in western Kansas。 Dodge City was settled in 1871 and the Santa Fe Railroad came through in 1872； and pretty soon Dodge became the cowboy capital of the West； the end of the Texas Trail； shootouts； Wyatt Earp； Boot Hill； and all that。 Medicine Creek was settled in 1877 by the cattleman H。 H。 Keyser； cattle brand bar H high on the left shoulder； horse brand flying H on the right。 The blizzard of '86 wiped out eleven thousand head and the next day Keyser leaned his head against the barrels of his shotgun and pulled both triggers。 They said it was the curse。 Then sodbusters and nesters came and the days of the cattle barons were over。 First it was wheat and sorghum； then the dust bowl； and after that they replanted in feed corn and now gasohol corn。 But in all that time no one ever solved the mystery of the Ghost Warriors and the Medicine Creek Massacre。〃
He took one final sip and dramatically clunked down his can。
Corrie looked at Pendergast。 It was a good story； and Brushy Jim told it well。 Pendergast was so still he might have been asleep。 His eyes were half closed； his fingers tented； his body sunken into the sofa。
〃And your great…grandfather； Mr。 Draper？〃 he murmured。
〃He settled down in Deeper； married and buried three wives。 He wrote up the whole thing in a private journal； with a lot more detail than what I just gave you； but the journal got sold off with a lot of his other valuables in the Great Depression and now sits in some library vault back east。 Never could figure out where。 I heard the story from my dad。〃
〃And how did he manage to see everything； in the middle of a dust storm？〃
〃Well； all I know is what my dad said。 When you get a dust storm in these parts； sometimes it blows on and off； like。〃
〃And the Cheyenne； Mr。 Draper； weren't they already known to the U。S。 Cavalry as the 'Red Specters' because of the way they could sneak up on even the most vigilant sentry and cut his throat before he even realized it？〃
〃For an FBI agent； you seem to know quite a lot； Mr。 Pendergast。 But you got to remember this happened at sunset； not at night； and those Forty…Fives had just fought as Confederates and lost a war。 You know what it's like to lose a war？ You can damn well be sure they were keeping their eyes open。〃
〃How was it that the Indians didn't discover your great…grandfather？〃
〃Like I said； the men felt bad about whomping him and had erected a little windbreak for him。 He pulled that brush over himself to hide。〃
〃I see。 And from that vantage point； lying in a hollow； covered with brush； at least a hundred yards downhill from the camp； in a dust storm； he was able to see all that you just described in such vivid detail。 The Ghost Warriors appearing and disappearing as if by magic。〃
Brushy Jim's eyes flashed dangerously and he half rose from his seat。 〃I ain't selling you anything； Mr。 Pendergast。 My great…granddaddy ain't on trial here。 I'm just telling you the story as it came down to me。〃
〃Then you have a theory； Mr。 Draper？ A personal opinion； perhaps？ Or do you really think it wasghosts？ 〃
There was a silence。
〃I don't like the tone you're taking with me； Mr。 Pendergast；〃 Brushy Jim said； now on his feet。 〃And FBI or not； if you're insinuating something； I want to hear it flat out。Right now。 〃
Pendergast did not immediately reply。 Corrie swallowed with difficulty； her gaze moving toward the door。
〃e now； Mr。 Draper；〃 Pendergast said at last。 〃You're no fool。 I'd like to hear yourreal opinion。〃
There was an electric moment in which nobody moved。 Then Brushy Jim softened。
〃Mr。 Pendergast； it appears you've smoked me out。 No； I don't think those Indians were ghosts。 If you go out to the Mounds…it's hard to see now with all the trees…but there's a long gentle fold of land that es up from the crik。 A group of thirty Cheyenne could e up that fold； hidden from the sentries if they walked their horses。 The setting sun would have put them in the shadow of the Mounds。 They could've waited below for the dust to e up； mounted real quick； and rode in。 That would explain the sudden hoofbeats。 And they could've left the same way； packing out their dead and erasing their tracks。 I never heard of an Arapaho who could track a Cheyenne； anyway。〃
He laughed； but it was a mirthless laugh。
〃What about the dead Cheyenne horses？ How did they vanish； in your opinion？〃
〃You're a hard man to please； Mr。 Pendergast。 I thought about that； too。 When I was young I saw an eighty…year…old Lakota chief butcher a buffalo in less than ten minutes。 A buffalo's a damn sight bigger than a horse。 Indians ate horsemeat。 They could've butchered the horses and packed the meat and bones out with their dead or hauled them out by travois。 They left the guts behind； you see； to lighten the loads。 And maybe there weren't more than two or three dead Cheyenne horses； anyway。 Maybe Great…Granddaddy Isaiah exaggerated just a little when he said a dozen of their horses had been killed。〃
〃Perhaps；〃 Pendergast said。 He rose and walked over to the makeshift bookshelf。 〃And I thank you for a most informative story。 But what does the story of the massacre have to do with the 'curse of the Forty…Fives' that you mentioned； which nobody seems willing to talk about？〃
Brushy Jim stirred。 〃Well； now； Mr。 Pendergast； I don't think 'willing' is the right word there。 It's just not a pretty story； that's all。〃
〃I'm all ears； Mr。 Draper。〃