“John Wesley told them to go to hell and pushed the herd north. That led to another killing and a second dead Indian. The morning after Wes’s meeting with the Osage, he and most of the hands were out scouting the trail ahead of us. I helped the cook prepare breakfast—cornbread and fried salt pork. The meal is stuck in my memory because of what happened later that day. Wes had not yet returned when half a dozen Osage rode into camp, demanded their tribute, and started to cut out cattle. The cook ...and me, with only two good legs between us, could only stand and watch. He hurled cusses at the Osage now and again that the savages pretended to not understand. One of the two hands left in camp, a young fellow by the name of Tin Cup Sam, looked at me, his eyes scared. “Are they gonna massacree us?” “I sure hope not,” I said. “I’m not up for a massacree this morning.” “Well,” Tin Cup said, “I’m going to fetch my pistol.” The cook agreed. “Me too. I will not be murdered by thieving savages.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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