Free The Cowboy and the Cossack (Nancy Pearl's Book Lust Rediscoveries) by Clair Huffaker

and get their pots and barrels, and they even nodded and smiled at us a little. In the meantime some of the men had started skinning and dressing the coyote-dun bull.
    A short distance away, the cossacks were waiting, but it seemed like there was always an air of being ready to go, of impatience about them. Some of them were tending to their horses, while a few were eating something cold, for they hadn’t built a fire. We noticed one of them who had a thick funny-looking plate.
    “What kind of plate’s he eatin’ off?” Purse Mayhew asked.
    “That ain’t no real plate,” Slim said. “That there’s a hardened pumpkin rind. Indians used t’ use ’em. Works good.”
    Chakko nodded and grunted in agreement, which was one of his normal sentences.
    “Pumpkin rind?” Crab scraped his spoon over his tin plate for some final beans. “Sounds heathen t’ me. Ain’t they never invented metals?”
    “Pumpkin rind’s kind a’ handy for eatin’,” Slim said. “If you’re low on water, ya’ just scrape off a thousandth of an inch from the top with your knife an’ you’ve washed your dishes.”
    “They’ve damn well invented metals,” Mushy said to Crab. “Those swords a’ theirs prove that beyond a whole lot a’ question.”
    “Do they have t’ cut themselves every time they take those things out?” Sammy the Kid asked. “That was kind of horrifyin’.”
    “Either that or cut someone else a lot deeper,” Link said. We all knew he was guessing, but it sure sounded accurate.
    “Forgettin’ them swords,” Slim muttered, “in case we ever get in an argument with ’em, I hope you fellas have took note a’ the large amount of artillery they’re packin’.” He chewed slowly, glancing off toward them. “Every man’s got some kind of a side arm and a rifle, along with that oversized Mexican toothpick.”
    Natcho was too entranced to even bother about or notice Slim’s words. “By the dear Lord,” he said, “they certainly know about horses. Look at those animals! And their saddles and spurs and bits! Beautiful!”
    Mushy chewed his last piece of bacon slowly and grudgingly. “Yeah. They’re a hasty an’ heavy-lookin’ outfit.”
    Captain Rostov came toward us and stopped a few feet from the fire. “You’ve finished breakfast.” He looked at Shad levelly. “Now I hope we can have a brief, intelligent conversation.”
    Shad stood up. “It’ll be brief.”
    Rostov’s face grew hard for a moment, but he forced himself to control his anger and took out some papers. “If there is any question of our identity this is a copy of the bill of sale between your ranch and our ataman in the city of Blagoveshchensk.”
    At a nod from Shad, Old Keats took the papers and started looking them over.
    Rostov continued, saying, “Your duty is to deliver that herd to its destination.”
    “I’ll do it.”
    “ My duty is to make certain you get there.” Rostov was getting close to fighting mad. “And I’ll goddamn well do that, too.”
    That was the first time Rostov had sworn in English, and it made his statement kind of impressive, almost as though you weren’t necessarily talking to a foreigner. Maybe that’s why Shad eased off enough to explain something, which he didn’t often do. “I’ve got maps t’ show me where I’m goin’. And I’ve got fifteen men armed with sideguns an’ repeating rifles, and they know how to use ’em. Plus some other various and sundry weaponry in our packs. This country’s no rougher than the country we’re used to. So there just ain’t no way we won’t get there. And we don’t need any unwanted company or help. Is that clear, mister?”
    Rostov breathed deeply, impatiently. “I’m pleased that you’re well equipped, mister. But one thing you don’t know is that those cattle are immeasurably more important to me and my people than they are to you. Another thing is that you haven’t any idea how deep or swift the Ussuri and Amur rivers are at this