can.â
Will looked at his friend more closely. He had a tightly strung bow across his chest and a quiver with ten or so arrows in it draped over his shoulder. âI didnât know you could handle a bow,â he said.
âMight could be lotsa things âbout me you donât know, Will. Come onâletâs ride.â
They rode slowly, barely beyond an extended walk, until there was enough light to see prairie-dog holes, half-buried rocks, rattlers out seeking morning warmth, and the other natural traps that awaited the unwary horseman.
With the sun came the searing heat; by nine in the morning the men and the horses were sweating copiously. Every so often one of the men would turn in his saddle and gaze at their backtrail. Miles back there was some dust rising into the air, moving at what seemed to be a steady pace toward them.
About noon they came to a wagon-wheel-sized puddle of brackish water. They loosened their cinches and let their horses drink, and they themselves sucked at their canteens, ate some jerky, and rolled smokes. Austin noticed that Will was scattering tobacco around where he sat and that he couldnât seem to get a decent crease in a paper. âLemme see your paw,â Austin said.
âNothinâ to see. Itâs cominâ good.â
âHold it out.â
Reluctantly, Will did so. âJesus God,â Austin whispered. The tourniquet had stopped most of the bleeding, but Willâs fingers had turned into fat, shiny white-skinned sausages, and he couldnât have formed a fist if his life depended on it. Worse yet, tiny lines of red had begun traveling from Willâs palm up toward his elbow. âHurt much?â
âSome.â
âSome, my ass. What we gotta do is free up the latigo, let some blood get to the bite. Could be some fresh bloodâll clean her out a bit.â
âIt ainât nothinâ but a little bite. Itâll clear up. We ainât got time to screw around with it now.â He nodded toward the dust behind them. âTheyâre gettinâ closer.â
âTheyâll kill their horses âfore they catch us,â Austin said. âWhat they probably done was leave their worst drunks anâ cowards to watch over the cattle anâ horses, anâ One Dog brought his best braves anâ fighters with him. Theyâll ride hard âtil their horses drop anâ then come on foot âtil they can steal some more somewhere.â He looked back at Will. âLemme loosen that latigo.â
âItâs just aââ
âLookit here,â Austin answered, almost in a snarl. âAinât nothinâ more dangerous than a human bite, âspecially from scum like them. A dogâs or wolfâs teeth are a lot cleanerân a manâs, anâ I know that to be a fact. A friend of mine got bit by a Arapahoe on his shoulder anâ it got all swole upâlike your handâanâ he croaked in four days.â As he spoke Austin released the knot of the tourniquet. âLet it hang at your side now.â
Will did so. After what seemed like an interminably long time, some pus and blood began to drip onto the sand. Its odor was rancid, enough to make a man gag. âWe gotta take the wrap off anâ put a fresh one on,â Austin said. â âFore we wrap her again, Iâll pour what booze we got left into the cutâmight help some.â
Before Will could reply, Austin began taking turns of the sleeve around the cut. When he got to the final wrap, he warned, âNow this oneâs gonna be a pisser, but we got no choice. See, the cloth is kinda glued in there anâ itâs gotta come out. You ready?â
âNo.â
âWell hell,â Austin said and tore the final turn of sleeve free. Will fell to his knees, his teeth grinding against one another with the pain. He didnât yell out or scream, but the deep whimpering sounds that
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