frustration and salt water. Instead, he jumped down, damn the danger now, shut gate two, and legged it out gate three and past the pickup and baled hay and panting, around the corner and along the outer wall, thinking, oh no, oh God, the buffalo went through that wall like a knife through butter with the guys on top of it and I did it, I got them slaughtered, because they're dead, every one of them dead!
14
He collided with them in the dark by the lane. There were no casualties.
But they had come completely unglued again. Lined against the fence, they embraced the wires like long-lost friends and stammering, managed to tell him that a whole horde of bulls had charged the wall while they were on it and almost torn it down, and weak with relief, Cotton leaned against a fencepost and removed his helmet and swabbed his forehead with a sleeve.
"Where's my pillow?" lamented Lally 2.
"My feet are blistered," Goodenow complained.
"I knew we should've gone home," said Lally 1. "We'd be in Flag by now except for my smartass brother."
"Be kind to dumb animals bleah," Shecker said.
"Zap! Pow!" Teft marveled. "They hit that wall like the Green Bay Packers! Bam!"
"Can it," Cotton ordered wearily. "I gotta think." He listened. In the pen the buffalo were still milling, but at least the commotion had not roused the Arizona sportsmen from their tents and campers. And he listened to the Bedwetters whimper about no radios and how pooped they were and how cuckoo to attempt this in the first place. They were about to flake out on him again, he knew the signs. If it wasn't one nitpick crisis they overreacted to, it was another—a bird out of a tree, a police car startling them, running out of gas, and now being tossed off a wall by a few emotionally disturbed animals. And if they were nice, normal, cereal-eating, deodorant-using American kids he could slap them into shape—but they weren't. They were always up on a wall waving crazy hats. And crazy beasts were always charging them. He had to come up with a plan pronto. But first they needed the old vitamins and minerals.
"We better bump," he said. "C'mon."
They were doubtful.
"C'mon," he urged. He put his back to the fencepost, held hands out, and slowly, dubiously, they came to him and made the magic ring, then closed it tight, heads bowed.
They closed eyes.
Bracing and embracing each other, they bumped cheeks and noses gently, touching faces.
A minute passed, and two. Deaf, dumb, sightless, but joined in hope and fear and the warm fur of their humanity, they stood guard over what they had created together that summer.
It worked again.
Cotton opened his eyes. "Okay, men, hear this," he said. "We try it one more time."
Separating, they groaned for effect.
"We might as well, it's damn near morning and we're gonna be caught anyway with no wheels. We came close that time, believe it or not. After I opened the squeeze gate, three of them did go through—but they're as shook up as we are and they came right back. So what we've gotta do is, without making noise, some way stampede 'em, the whole bunch, so they'll light out and keep going, and I know how."
What they'd do, he explained, was station two guys, one at the near squeeze gate he'd opened and one at the far. Gate three, to the range, would be left open. Then when the herd was through one and two, the two guys would jump down and close 'em to make sure none of the buff turned around. Burning rubber and with no place to go but out the last gate, they damn well would.
"Who'll be the two?" Goodenow interrupted.
"Me and Teft."
"No. That's not fair either." Goodenow was being ethical again. "Shecker and I will. We haven't done anything. I urped and he made us stop in Flagstaff to eat, so it's our turn to contribute."
With both hands, Shecker wrenched at the dagger in his chest. "Stabbed! Give me a break!"
Cotton clapped on his helmet. "Have it your way. But here's how we panic 'em. The other four of us climb the wall
14
He collided with them in the dark by the lane. There were no casualties.
But they had come completely unglued again. Lined against the fence, they embraced the wires like long-lost friends and stammering, managed to tell him that a whole horde of bulls had charged the wall while they were on it and almost torn it down, and weak with relief, Cotton leaned against a fencepost and removed his helmet and swabbed his forehead with a sleeve.
"Where's my pillow?" lamented Lally 2.
"My feet are blistered," Goodenow complained.
"I knew we should've gone home," said Lally 1. "We'd be in Flag by now except for my smartass brother."
"Be kind to dumb animals bleah," Shecker said.
"Zap! Pow!" Teft marveled. "They hit that wall like the Green Bay Packers! Bam!"
"Can it," Cotton ordered wearily. "I gotta think." He listened. In the pen the buffalo were still milling, but at least the commotion had not roused the Arizona sportsmen from their tents and campers. And he listened to the Bedwetters whimper about no radios and how pooped they were and how cuckoo to attempt this in the first place. They were about to flake out on him again, he knew the signs. If it wasn't one nitpick crisis they overreacted to, it was another—a bird out of a tree, a police car startling them, running out of gas, and now being tossed off a wall by a few emotionally disturbed animals. And if they were nice, normal, cereal-eating, deodorant-using American kids he could slap them into shape—but they weren't. They were always up on a wall waving crazy hats. And crazy beasts were always charging them. He had to come up with a plan pronto. But first they needed the old vitamins and minerals.
"We better bump," he said. "C'mon."
They were doubtful.
"C'mon," he urged. He put his back to the fencepost, held hands out, and slowly, dubiously, they came to him and made the magic ring, then closed it tight, heads bowed.
They closed eyes.
Bracing and embracing each other, they bumped cheeks and noses gently, touching faces.
A minute passed, and two. Deaf, dumb, sightless, but joined in hope and fear and the warm fur of their humanity, they stood guard over what they had created together that summer.
It worked again.
Cotton opened his eyes. "Okay, men, hear this," he said. "We try it one more time."
Separating, they groaned for effect.
"We might as well, it's damn near morning and we're gonna be caught anyway with no wheels. We came close that time, believe it or not. After I opened the squeeze gate, three of them did go through—but they're as shook up as we are and they came right back. So what we've gotta do is, without making noise, some way stampede 'em, the whole bunch, so they'll light out and keep going, and I know how."
What they'd do, he explained, was station two guys, one at the near squeeze gate he'd opened and one at the far. Gate three, to the range, would be left open. Then when the herd was through one and two, the two guys would jump down and close 'em to make sure none of the buff turned around. Burning rubber and with no place to go but out the last gate, they damn well would.
"Who'll be the two?" Goodenow interrupted.
"Me and Teft."
"No. That's not fair either." Goodenow was being ethical again. "Shecker and I will. We haven't done anything. I urped and he made us stop in Flagstaff to eat, so it's our turn to contribute."
With both hands, Shecker wrenched at the dagger in his chest. "Stabbed! Give me a break!"
Cotton clapped on his helmet. "Have it your way. But here's how we panic 'em. The other four of us climb the wall
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