shoe, and luckily Kinrich had an extra shoe with him. He tacked it on, and then we rode out, with Kinrich leading the way.
Chapter fifteen
With Kinrich being wounded we had to ride slow, and it took us four days to catch up with the wagons.
I found out real quick that Ben Kinrich was a very peculiar man. His moods changed like the wind. One minute he’d be laughing and joking, and the next he’d be dark and gloomy.
The first night we made camp Kinrich rummaged through his pack, and then he walked over to me.
“Here’s some extra bedding you can use,” Kinrich handed me some blankets. “I don’t mind sharing my bed from time to time, but I’d rather it not become a habit.”
“These’ll do just fine,” I said with a sheepish grin.
I was worried what would happen when we caught up with the wagons, but to my relief we didn’t ride up to them. Instead, we sat a-horseback on a ridge and watched them from a-far.
They were strung out in a long line, and Kinrich counted out loud.
“Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…” Kinrich paused as he shot me an amused look. “One wagon short, Button. Want to make a bet which wagon's gone?”
“The Jones’ wagon?”
“I’d bet my handmade boots on it.”
Kinrich kicked up his horse, and we left the ridge. We rode in behind the wagons, and Kinrich pulled up when we came up to the wagon tracks.
“We’ll backtrack these tracks a ways and find where they peeled off,” Kinrich said.
Kinrich took off in a slow trot, and I followed.
“Hope we don’t lose them tracks like I did,” I said.
“We won’t.”
“What if the wind blows?” I asked.
“Won’t make much difference,” Kinrich replied. “You can follow a wagon track for months after they’ve been made. You just didn’t know what you were doing.”
I was took back by his remark, but after a while I shrugged and got over it. At the time he was a better tracker than I was, so he would know better.
Kinrich kept up the pace until midday, and then he pulled up abruptly.
I wasn’t paying attention, and I almost ran into him.
“Lookie there,” he pointed down at the ground.
I squinted as I looked down.
“I don’t see anything,” I finally said.
Kinrich sighed and shook his head.
Kinrich dismounted, squatted on his heels, and pointed it out to me. A single wagon had left the wagon train, going south.
Kinrich climbed back on his horse.
“Now, why would anybody leave the safety of a wagon train when they’re in the middle of Injun country?” Kinrich wanted to know.
I got the feeling that he really wasn’t talking to me, so I kept silent.
We fell in with the wagon tracks. We rode slower, and Kinrich’s head moved constantly as he scanned the country out in front of us.
“Always look way ahead when you’re traveling, Button,” he told me. “Look for any sudden movements, or for things that just don’t look right.”
I nodded.
“And never top out on a hill where Injuns can see you from a long ways off. Instead, always stick to the low ground.”
I nodded again.
“Make it a habit, and before long you won’t even think about it. You’ll just do it natural like.”
After that Kinrich didn’t say much. He was being real careful, and every once in a while he would pull up and take a long look around.
I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for.
Finally, I asked him, “You expecting somebody?”
“Nope.”
I waited for him to explain, but he never did.
We made camp that night in a deep draw. Kinrich didn’t want the light of a fire, so after we tended to our horses we sat there in the dark and chewed on some jerky that Kinrich had.
“Judging from the tracks, we should catch ’em tomorrow,” Kinrich told me.
I was still confused as to what was going on, so I tried to make some sense of the situation.
“Why exactly are we doing this again?” I asked.
For a long time Kinrich didn’t answer. I started to wonder if he’d heard
Chapter fifteen
With Kinrich being wounded we had to ride slow, and it took us four days to catch up with the wagons.
I found out real quick that Ben Kinrich was a very peculiar man. His moods changed like the wind. One minute he’d be laughing and joking, and the next he’d be dark and gloomy.
The first night we made camp Kinrich rummaged through his pack, and then he walked over to me.
“Here’s some extra bedding you can use,” Kinrich handed me some blankets. “I don’t mind sharing my bed from time to time, but I’d rather it not become a habit.”
“These’ll do just fine,” I said with a sheepish grin.
I was worried what would happen when we caught up with the wagons, but to my relief we didn’t ride up to them. Instead, we sat a-horseback on a ridge and watched them from a-far.
They were strung out in a long line, and Kinrich counted out loud.
“Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…” Kinrich paused as he shot me an amused look. “One wagon short, Button. Want to make a bet which wagon's gone?”
“The Jones’ wagon?”
“I’d bet my handmade boots on it.”
Kinrich kicked up his horse, and we left the ridge. We rode in behind the wagons, and Kinrich pulled up when we came up to the wagon tracks.
“We’ll backtrack these tracks a ways and find where they peeled off,” Kinrich said.
Kinrich took off in a slow trot, and I followed.
“Hope we don’t lose them tracks like I did,” I said.
“We won’t.”
“What if the wind blows?” I asked.
“Won’t make much difference,” Kinrich replied. “You can follow a wagon track for months after they’ve been made. You just didn’t know what you were doing.”
I was took back by his remark, but after a while I shrugged and got over it. At the time he was a better tracker than I was, so he would know better.
Kinrich kept up the pace until midday, and then he pulled up abruptly.
I wasn’t paying attention, and I almost ran into him.
“Lookie there,” he pointed down at the ground.
I squinted as I looked down.
“I don’t see anything,” I finally said.
Kinrich sighed and shook his head.
Kinrich dismounted, squatted on his heels, and pointed it out to me. A single wagon had left the wagon train, going south.
Kinrich climbed back on his horse.
“Now, why would anybody leave the safety of a wagon train when they’re in the middle of Injun country?” Kinrich wanted to know.
I got the feeling that he really wasn’t talking to me, so I kept silent.
We fell in with the wagon tracks. We rode slower, and Kinrich’s head moved constantly as he scanned the country out in front of us.
“Always look way ahead when you’re traveling, Button,” he told me. “Look for any sudden movements, or for things that just don’t look right.”
I nodded.
“And never top out on a hill where Injuns can see you from a long ways off. Instead, always stick to the low ground.”
I nodded again.
“Make it a habit, and before long you won’t even think about it. You’ll just do it natural like.”
After that Kinrich didn’t say much. He was being real careful, and every once in a while he would pull up and take a long look around.
I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for.
Finally, I asked him, “You expecting somebody?”
“Nope.”
I waited for him to explain, but he never did.
We made camp that night in a deep draw. Kinrich didn’t want the light of a fire, so after we tended to our horses we sat there in the dark and chewed on some jerky that Kinrich had.
“Judging from the tracks, we should catch ’em tomorrow,” Kinrich told me.
I was still confused as to what was going on, so I tried to make some sense of the situation.
“Why exactly are we doing this again?” I asked.
For a long time Kinrich didn’t answer. I started to wonder if he’d heard
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