Northwoods Nightmare by Jon Sharpe

going.
    Two Indians were barely ten feet away.
    Fargo stiffened and swooped his hand to his Colt. Then he saw that one of the Indians was a wrinkled old warrior with white hair and the other was a young maiden as shapely as Angeline Havard, with long raven hair and a doeskin dress decorated with beads and ribbons. They had high foreheads, high cheeks, and wide mouths. Both were armed with knives on their hips and the old warrior had a quiver and a bow slung across his back.
    â€œIt must be my day for running into people,” Fargo muttered.
    The woman was studying him intently. She smiled a bit uncertainly and said in English, “We are friendly.”
    â€œThat’s good to hear.” Fargo returned her smile. “So am I. Unless you’re out to rob me or kill me, in which case I’m no marmot.”
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œNothing,” Fargo said. He introduced himself. “I take it you two are Knifes?”
    â€œThat is what your people call us. We call ourselves the Nlaka’pamux. I am Teit and this is my grandfather, Chelahit.”
    Fargo nodded at the old man and saw that he was staring off into space; his eyes were a filmy gray, not brown as they should be. “What’s wrong with him?”
    â€œMy grandfather is blind.”
    Rising onto the toes of his boots, Fargo peered past them into the pass. “Where are the rest?”
    â€œSorry?”
    â€œThe other Nlaka’pamux.” Fargo couldn’t see her and her blind grandfather traipsing around by themselves.
    â€œThank you,” Teit said.
    â€œI didn’t do anything.”
    â€œYou called us by our name. Most whites cannot be bothered. To them we are the Knifes, whether we want to be or not.” Teit smiled. “And there are no others. Grandfather and I are alone.”
    â€œThat’s dangerous.”
    â€œThank you,” Teit said again.
    â€œWhat the hell for?”
    â€œFor saying that. You must have a good heart for a white man. I am well pleased.”
    Fargo’s interest perked. But he exercised caution and took a few steps to the right so he could see to the far end of the pass and confirm her claim. The pass was empty. “What are you doing way up here by yourselves?”
    â€œLong ago my grandfather’s brother took a Nicola woman for his wife and went to live with them. My grandfather wanted to see his brother one more time before he passes to the other side, so I took him for a visit. We are on our way back to our own people.”
    The Nicola, Fargo knew, were a tribe to the south. “Then you’re on your way north, the same as me.”
    â€œWe heard you come up the mountain and hid. I have watched you to be sure you are friendly.”
    â€œWhat made you decide I am?”
    â€œI can tell,” Teit said. “Early this morning four white men came down the trail and we hid from them, too. They were men with bad hearts.”
    â€œBucktooth and his pards.”
    â€œSorry?” Teit said yet again.
    â€œYou were right. They had bad hearts.”
    â€œHad?”
    â€œI don’t like having guns pointed at me.”
    Teit held her grandfather’s hand, brought him to the boulder, and in her own tongue bade him sit.
    â€œDoes Chelahit speak the white tongue?”
    â€œNo. He is not fond of white men. He says whites want to own the world and that is wrong, so he will have nothing to do with them.”
    â€œYou speak it well,” Fargo complimented her. “Did a Catholic missionary teach you?” Priests had been active in the region in recent years.
    â€œFather Fouquet, yes. A kind man. A good man. I learned from him, and from others. I learned well, yes?”
    â€œYou speak it better than me.”
    â€œI try hard to say it well,” Teit said. “I also speak some French and the tongues of two tribes besides my own.”
    Fargo fished for information by remarking, “You’re smart as well as