Revenge Along the War Trail: And the White Buffalo Woman
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Kurt Philip Behm
Best selling author and renowned poet, Kurt Philip Behm, has been writing both poetry and prose since 1971. In this sixth installment of his historical fiction series, The Sword Of Ichiban, William Broderick Simpson III (Cutty) takes a radically new and dangerous approach to turning the tide of World War 1.
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Revenge Along the War Trail - Kurt Philip Behm
© 2016 Kurt Philip Behm. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 08/31/2016
ISBN: 978-1-5246-2788-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-2786-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-2787-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016914450
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Book One
The Way West
Chapter 1: The Boredom Ended
Chapter 2: Engine #2241
Chapter 3: White Men Only
Chapter 4: Insult’s Answered—Hoka Hey
Chapter 5: Through Chicago, Cheyenne, Into Missoula
Chapter 6: The First Camp And Proper Introductions
Chapter 7: A Weight Lifted
Chapter 8: Headed Higher
Chapter 9: Crossing The River
Chapter 10: The Company You Are In
Chapter 11: War Knew But One Nationality …
Chapter 12: Extinction And Obsolescence
Chapter 13: An Uncertain Trail
Chapter 14: Right Toward The Fire
Chapter 15: A Different Brand Of Justice
Chapter 16: His Destiny Back In Control
Chapter 17: Just Beyond The Trees
Chapter 18: The Fire Of The Unknown
Book Two
The Blackfoot Piegan Camp
Chapter 19: The Backbone Of The World
Chapter 20: The Formality Of Acceptance
Chapter 21: The Dance
Chapter 22: The Intercession
Chapter 23: A Warrior’s Society—Aiinikiks
Chapter 24: The Story Of The Old One
Chapter 25: Ptesan-Wi—White Buffalo Woman
Chapter 26: Zero-Sum
Chapter 27: The Power Of Each One Is Now The Power Of All
Chapter 28: To The Den Of The Wolf
Chapter 29: The Wolf Escapes
Chapter 30: Death Around The Fire—Whisky Digs The Grave
Chapter 31: Cutty Changed His Shirt
Chapter 32: The Belly Of The Wolf
Chapter 33: The Trap Had Been Baited
Chapter 34: The Darkest Of Nights
Chapter 35: The Wolf Takes The Bait
Chapter 36: The Trap Door Would Now Spring Shut
Chapter 37: The Evil Destroyed
Chapter 38: The Ride Back
Epilogue
It Had Been Quiet
Much Too Quiet
It Had Also Been Long
Far Too Long
BOOK ONE
The Way West
1%20ThinkstockPhotos-473946700.jpgWarrior’s Needed To Be At War
CHAPTER 1: THE BOREDOM ENDED
It was early July, 1905, and Cutty’s mind was at peace…
But His Soul Was In Turmoil
He felt like one of those books up on the bookshelf across from his desk—something to read about and then file away—something to know about, but then never to experience.
Those books contained stories that were as foreign to him as the teaching position he held. Most days—after arriving at his office—he felt like an impostor. He was charged with teaching Academy Cadets military history. Most of it learned secondhand through the books up on his shelf.
Cutty was a warrior, and warriors needed to be at war. When not facing an enemy, his fury often turned inward, and a fire had been building up inside of him for the past several months.
He was just at the point where—as the Colonel liked to say—enough was enough, when he heard three knocks on his large oak door. Come in,
Cutty said, as he stood up from behind his desk.
The door opened quickly, and in walked Cadet James Cody Lightfeather, known as Jimmy to his friends. Jimmy was a third-year cadet (second class) at the Academy, and the first Native American ever admitted to West Point. He was also a member of the Blackfoot Piegan Tribe of Northwestern Montana.
Jimmy was tall for an Indian at six feet three inches, and he proudly carried the heritage of his forefathers in his demeanor and walk. It was the first thing Cutty had noticed about him before shaking his hand.
And In His Heart
Jimmy had a very troubled look on his face, and after saluting, asked Major Simpson if he could please sit down.
At ease—and yes, Cadet Lightfeather—please take a chair.
Jimmy was one of Cutty’s advisees. All senior professors at West Point had a set number of underclassmen—twelve—assigned to their charge.
"Major Simpson, I have an unusual but urgent request that I hope you will grant. It’s very important to me and to the well-being of my tribe. Permission to speak freely—Sir?"
Just what is it that you are requesting, Cadet? Speak your mind, and spare no details.
Cutty could feel an excitement roll down the center of his back before Jimmy even started. He wasn’t sure why, but that feeling always signaled that something unforeseen was about to happen—something that could possibly break the terrible boredom that had overtaken his daily life.
As you already know, Sir, I am from the Blackfoot Piegan Tribe in Browning Montana. I just received a letter from my Aunt Sophie, a Tribal Elder, informing me that my father has been killed, and my two older brothers have gone missing. I am requesting leave to return home to try and straighten out what has happened.
All of Cutty’s old instincts rose to the surface, as he heard himself say: Lightfeather, can you tell me any more?
Jimmy continued ….
"There is an outlaw branch of the Blackfoot Tribe, the Siksika, living just north of the border in Canada. For many years they have been marauding south into Blackfoot Piegan lands. They have stolen many of our women and children—as well as our horses—over the past twenty years. The Siksika usually attack at night and in large numbers while the available men are away hunting. They always seem to know just when that is.
"In addition, our tribe has been decimated by several of the white man’s diseases, such as cholera and smallpox. Many of our young men die before they reach warrior age.
"The newspaper in Missoula has refused to cover these attacks. The Missoulian is biased against all Blackfoot People, and even local law enforcement has turned a blind-eye. These attacks have become more brutal since I left for the Academy, and are now indiscriminate. I feel that I must return home, Major, before anyone else in my family is killed. Do I have your permission—Sir?"
Cadet Lightfeather, there are less than two weeks of class left in the summer term. Check with your professors and see if there is any way you can finish up your course work in the next two days. After you have met with them, get back to me right away. If they have any questions or concerns, please ask them to contact me here or at home. We will then take this matter to the next level.
Thank you, Sir. Time is of the essence, and I really do need to leave.
Dismissed, Cadet!
As the door to his office closed, a torrent of conflicting feelings opened in Cutty’s psyche. He hadn’t felt this alive in over two years. Someone was again in trouble, and the details were unknown. Someone that he knew and respected was in need, and Cutty’s sense of duty and honor was now in control—absolute control.
For some men—maybe most men—now would be decision time. For Cutty, there was no decision to be made. He was going to grant Cadet Jimmy Lightfeather the leave he was requesting, but more than that…
He Was Not Going To Let Him Set Off Alone
2%20ThinkstockPhotos-126879598.jpgA New Adventure Begins
CHAPTER 2: ENGINE #2241
It was the Pennsylvania Railroad’s finest! Steam engine #2241 was set to leave from the recently finished Penn Station in Midtown Manhattan at 8:10 a.m.
Bound For Chicago
Once daily, the Pennsylvania Railroad sent one of its big steam-fired locomotives from New York City to Chicago, and then on to cities further west. Built in the Baldwin Locomotive Works in Philadelphia, #2241 was one of the Pennsylvania Railroad’s finest locomotives. The only thing louder than the rumble of its large engine this morning was the beating of Cutty’s heart.
He Once Again Felt Alive
Wearing civilian clothes, Cutty and Jimmy Lightfeather stood on the dark underground platform—waiting.
Cutty’s last thoughts were of his young son and daughter. He hoped the tale he had told them at bedtime last night—about an Indian family in trouble— would assuage any fears they might have until he returned. Now, if only there was a corresponding tale that he could tell himself…
ALL ABOARD!
Jimmy grabbed both bags and stepped aside, as he motioned for Cutty to board first. They had a private compartment in the middle of the third car, and their view would be looking north, as the train headed west. Jimmy stowed their bags under the lower of the two bunks, as Cutty said: Are you hungry, Cadet
?
Yes Sir,
replied Jimmy, as the two men made a right turn out of their compartment and headed for the dining car. It was just behind the coal tender at the front of the train. After a breakfast of ham and eggs, orange juice, toast, and coffee, Cutty asked Jimmy to follow him back to their compartment.
I want you to give me a complete history of the conflict between the Siksika and the Piegan, Jimmy; and I want no details spared.
As the train passed through Philadelphia on its way to Lancaster, Jimmy told a story that lasted for over two hours. When he was finally done speaking, Cutty said…
It’s Time For This Tide To Finally Turn
3%20ThinkstockPhotos-92846451.jpgJames Cody Lightfeather
CHAPTER 3: WHITE MEN ONLY
Hey Redskin, that door says ‘White Men Only.’
Jimmy looked at the outside of the water closet’s door where the three-letter-word, MEN, was prominently displayed. He then stepped inside.
The water closet was located two cars behind their private compartment and at the back of an open car filled with general seating. There were eight seats across with an aisle that went down the center—splitting the open car with four seats on each side.
When he had walked into the car, two men had been sitting across from each other—on opposite sides of the aisle—just two rows in front of the water closet. Each had looked at him with a menacing glance. As he reached for the closet’s door handle, he heard the man on the right yell out that one word that had always incensed him so….
REDSKIN
Jimmy locked the door from the inside.
Since he had been a young boy living in Browning, Montana, that one word had affected him like no other. When he was eleven, white ranch-hands had accosted him as he had walked home from school. The Piegan Indian Primary School—on the very southern edge of the reservation—was just across an old dirt road from the large XXX (Triple X) Ranch.
The XXX was the largest cattle-breeding operation in northwestern Montana. It covered over 150,000 acres and extended south and west through Glacier, Flathead, and Pondera counties. Over three hundred cowboys worked the XXX, many from as far away as Texas and Oklahoma. The anti-Indian bias was strong among these ranch-hands, and no young Piegan boy wanted to get caught alone in their presence.
Walking home from fifth grade on a warm spring day, Jimmy had not been so lucky.
Three XXX cowboys on horseback chased Jimmy down—scattering his books and papers—and threw a lasso around his torso before dragging him at least a hundred yards through the dusty sage. It only happened to Jimmy once, but he vowed to never let it happen again.
Today Was Not Going To Be The Second Time
As he turned the door handle to exit the water closet, he felt resistance coming from the other side. Someone, or something, was preventing him from opening the door. As he pushed even harder to get the door open—he heard: So, how would you like to feel a white man’s knife against that red skin, Indian?
Jimmy Reached Into His Back Pocket
With his right hand, he pulled out what was always there. It was a four-inch folding knife that had been given to him by his father after those ranch-hands had