Free Texas Rifles by Elmer Kelton

man.
    Later, when the men had eaten and filled their canteens and drunk all the water they wanted, the captain said, “We’ll catch fresh horses and take that herd back with us. But first, search out all these tepees. Anything that can be used for a weapon, bring it and pile it up here.”

    In short time there was a small pile of lances, bows and arrows. What rifles and other firearms the men found, they kept for their own use.
    Miguel brought out a hide bag of poor gunpowder he had found in a tepee. He poured this over the pile. The captain said, “Is that all?” No one had anything else to add, so he said, “Burn it.”
    Miguel fired his pistol into the powder and set it ablaze.
    As the flames licked up into the pile of weapons, the captain turned to Elkin. “Originally I had thought we’d burn all the tepees and make it a clean sweep. But with all their men dead, I suppose we can afford a little mercy for these women and children.”
    â€œMaybe it will teach them to have a little themselves,” Elkin commented.
    â€œNever,” Barcroft gritted. He moved away from the fire and walked toward the arbor where Johnson had been taking care of the wounded. Hesitantly, Cloud followed after him.
    â€œHow’re they doing, Johnson?” Barcroft asked.
    The young medic replied, “Rough in spots, but I suppose they’ll be able to travel. All except one. He just died.”
    Barcroft nodded grimly. Then he looked at Tommy Sides as he said, “It won’t be easy, but a man can take a lot when he’s riding in the direction of home.”
    Pale, his eyes sick with shock, the kid managed a weak smile. “Yes, sir, I’ll make it.”
    â€œSure you will. You’ve made a good soldier, son.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” the boy whispered.
    As Barcroft turned away, Cloud said uncertainly, “Captain, I’d kind of like to have a word with you.” He motioned with his chin. “Over here someplace.”
    The stiff reserve was still in Barcroft’s eyes as he looked at Cloud. But he said, “I suppose so. Why not?”
    They walked together out away from the tepees. Barcroft found a place on the green grass of the creekbank and sat down. Cloud squatted on his heels. He fumbled a little, hunting for the words.
    â€œYou see, sir, well … I sort of got started on the wrong foot, so to speak. I think maybe you got an apology comin’. What I mean to say is, I said some hard things. I thought some things even harder than what I said, after what happened about that squaw. I sort of got the notion you had a big chunk of lead instead of a heart … or somethin’ like that.
    â€œI didn’t know about your wife and your little girl then. Man goes through a thing like that, he sees things different from other folks, I guess.”
    Barcroft didn’t look at Cloud. A vague wall still stood between them. Cloud guessed it always would.
    â€œCloud, killing that squaw was a thing somebody had to do, and I did it. I took no pleasure in it. But I’ve not let it haunt me, either. What does haunt me is the way my wife looked when I found her. It wasn’t the bucks who finally killed her. They turned her over to the squaws. It was a terrible death.”
    Barcroft rubbed his face, and Cloud could see the bone-weariness that had settled over the man. Barcroft said, “They’re still women, and I try to avoid killing them when I can. But if I have to do it, I don’t back away. When I look at a Comanche—man or woman—I can still see my wife the way she was that day.”
    Cloud pulled his gaze away from the captain’s face. “What about the little girl? Have you ever found any trace of her?”
    Barcroft shook his head. “Never a trace. The federal government had an Indian reservation in Young County then. I trailed my wife’s killers back onto the reservation. The Indian agent and Yankee