He could not make himself believe that Tell and Tyrel were dead. If not dead, they might be lying somewhere, injured and suffering. Or they might be prisoners of the Sioux.

He made the International just as they were taking in the gangway.

Devnet met him on the upper deck. "It isn't far now, is it?" she asked.

"A few more hours. You are going to Fort Carlton?"

"Of course."

"Is Mrs. McCann going with you?"

"I think not. I do not know her well, you know. We just met while traveling, and all I know is that she wishes to go west, all the way to the Pacific."

"You should have no trouble."

She turned to him suddenly. "I am sorry about your brothers, so very sorry. Were you so very close?"

"We had our differences, but they never amounted to much. Yes, we were close. I left my law practice to help them."

"What will you do now?"

"Find their bodies, if possible, bury them, and then round up the cattle and go on west." He paused. "But I cannot believe they are dead. They were both so strong, so alive. They were survivors. They'd been through a lot."

He hesitated, then said, "Miss Molrone, I a" "

"My friends call me Nettie. It is easier to say than Devnet."

"All right, Nettie. What will you do if you learn nothing of your brother at Carlton?"

"Go on west, I presume. He has to be there."

"You must realize there is no regular mode of travel to the west, only occasional groups of travelers. Someday there will be a railroad. They are talking of it now, and since this Riel trouble, I imagine there will be a serious effort made, but that's years away."

"I have to go a" somehow."

"We will not be going by way of Carlton but will be going west from Fort Ellice. We will follow the Qu'Appelle River, more or less. If you could join us a" of course, it will be rough, sleeping on the ground and all that."

"I could do it."

They talked the morning away but saw nothing of Kyle Gavin. Before the noontime meal, Mary McCann came up to join them. She said little, had blunt but not unattractive features, and Orrin noticed her hands showed evidence of much hard work.

Occasionally, now, there were breaks in the wall of trees on either bank, and they could catch glimpses of meadows and in one case of a plowed field. The country was very flat, and the river wound slowly through it They saw many ducks and an occasional hawk.

A dozen men armed with rifles, whom he took to be mis, waited on the landing. One of them came forward as the carts were being driven ash.o.r.e. His name, he said, was Lepine.

"I am Orrin Sackett."

Lepine nodded. "We have heard of you." He gestured to the carts. "These will be confiscated."

Briefly, Orrin explained. Lepine shrugged. "It will be up to Louis. He will decide."

It was arranged for him to be conducted to the fort where Riel had taken up his residence.

Riel came into the room wearing a black frock coat, vest and trousers, and moccasins, as did nearly everyone. He had quick, intelligent eyes, a broad forehead, and a shock of black hair.

He listened, his eyes roaming around the room, as Orrin explained. At the end, he nodded. "Of course. We will release your goods. I have heard of the attack you mention."

"And my brothers? Were they killed?"

"What we heard was little enough. There was a stampede, an attempt to scatter the cattle so the Sioux could take them when they wished.

"There was some fighting, which would imply somebody survived the stampede. The Sioux claim to have lost no one, but one of my men, who was in their camp shortly after, learned there were some losses, and the Sioux had but one fresh scalp that he saw."

He glanced at Orrin. "You must give me your word the rifles will not be used against me, nor the supplies given to those who consider themselves my enemies."

His restless eyes kept moving about the room. Suddenly, he asked, "How many men do you have?"

"Two a" now. A cart driver named Baptiste a" "

Riel smiled. "I know him. A good old man." He looked around at Orrin. "But only two? What can you do?"

"I hope to find more."

"Well" a" he shook his head doubtfully a" "you have a problem." He waved a hand. "Go! It is all right! You shall have your carts. I want trouble with no one. I began all this because I wanted peace. There were surveyors coming on our land, and I was afraid there would be a shooting."

Orrin turned to the door, and his hand was on the latch when Riel spoke again. "Wait! There is a man, an American like yourself. He is in jail here. I think he is a good man."

"In jail for what?"

"Fighting."

Orrin smiled. "All right. I will talk to him."

"If you hire him, the case will be dismissed." Riel smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling. "Just take him away from here. It needed four of my men to get him locked up."

Lepine unlocked the cell, and a man got up from the straw. He was at least two inches taller than Orrin's six feet and four inches but leaner. He had a handlebar moustache and a stubble of beard. One eye was black, fading to blue and yellow, and his knuckles were skinned.

"You want a job?" Orrin said.

"I want to get out of here."

"You take the job, you get out. Otherwise, they'll throw the key away."

"Don't look like I have much choice." He stared at Orrin. "What kind of a job is this, anyway?"

"Rounding up cattle stampeded by buffalo. It's in Sioux country."

"h.e.l.l, I'd rather stay in jail. They gotta let me out sometime."

He was watching Orrin, and suddenly he said, "What's your name, mister?" He paused. "It wouldn't be Sackett, would it?"

"It would. I am Orrin Sackett."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned! They call me Highpockets Haney. I thought you had the mark on you. You Sacketts all seem cut to the same pattern, sort of. I served in the army with a Sackett named William Tell."

"My brother."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned! All right, you got yourself a boy. On'y you got to get me a weepon. They done taken my rifle gun an' my pistol."

A burly mtis, sitting on a log with a rifle across his knees, looked up as they came out. "Take heem! Take heem far! He geef me a leep!" He touched his lip with tender fingers.

"h.e.l.l," Haney said, "look at the eye you gave me!"

"What we fight about?"

Haney chuckled. "You expect me to remember? More'n likely I wondered whether you was as tough as you looked." He chuckled again. "You're tougher!"

Shorty was at the customhouse with the six horses. He led the way to a place back from the river and on a gra.s.sy hillside under the spreading branches of some old trees. "Camped here before," he explained.

He watched Baptiste come up the rise with the two carts. "Ain't much of an outfit, but it's a start," he suggested. "We'll need at least two more men, and we should have six."

"Well just have to look around," Orrin said, "but there's three of us now."

The next man was a volunteer. He approached Shorty, who was having a beer. "You look like a rider," he suggested. "I'm another, and I'm broke and rustlin' work."

His name was Charlie Fleming, and he was from Arkansas, he said. He had two horses of his own and knew where there were four more to be had.

"That's it," Orrin told them. "We'll move out tomorrow. The first thing is to find where that stampede took place and hunt for my brothers, or their bodies."

"You won't find much," Fleming said. "Not after a stampede. I lost a friend thataway, and all we found was his boot heels and some b.u.t.tons. By the time several hundred head of buffalo run over you, there isn't much to find."

"We'll look," Haney said. "Tell Sackett was the best friend I ever had. We were in the Sixth Cavalry together."

Orrin walked back to the hotel. Studiously, he had avoided any thought of his brothers. His job was to get an outfit. When the time came to look, that would be another thing.

Three men riding and one on the carts. Four men riding, counting himself. It was too few, and he should have about ten more horses. Rounding up scattered cattle, if any were left, would be rough on the riding stock.

The first person he saw at the hotel was Nettie Molrone. "Oh, Mr. Sackett! I'm so glad to see you! I'm leaving in the morning for Fort Carlton!"

"Who's taking you?"

"I'm going with a group. Mrs. McCann is going, and there will be another lady whose husband is there. There are six trappers, Mr. Taylor from the Hudson's Bay Company, and Kyle Gavin."

"I wish you luck," he said. His expression was a little sour, and she noticed it. "I mean, I really do," he added. "I'll be leaving tomorrow, too."

"I know. I mean, Mr. Gavin said he believed you were leaving. He doesn't think you'll have much luck."

"We'll see." He hesitated, then said, "I hope you find your brother and that everything goes well for you. Remember, we'll be miles to the south of you, and once we get the cattle, we'll be driving west. We'll follow the South Saskatchewan."

"But aren't the cattle down in Dakota?"

"On the border," he said. "We'll need several days to round them up."

He was in his room and combing his hair before going down to dinner when the thought struck him. How did Kyle Gavin know he was leaving?

He didn't even have his outfit yet, not the men or stock he needed.

Just a surmise, probably. A lucky guess.

Chapter XII.

The morning was clear and bright with only a few scattered clouds. The wind sent ripples through the vast sea of gra.s.s before them, but the sound of it was lost in the screech and groan of the carts, which were entirely of oak and ungreased.

Highpockets Haney rode up beside Orrin. "You got your work cut out for you, Sackett," he said. "You ever rounded up cattle scattered by a buffalo stampede? They're likely to be scattered to h.e.l.l an' gone."

"It won't be easy."

"We'll be workin' alone most of the time, just the way the Injuns like it."

"We'll work in pairs," Orrin suggested. "Takes less time to bunch them. If trouble comes, use your own judgment. Fight if that's necessary, but run if you can, just so long as you run together. I don't want any man left alone unless he's already dead."

Now he left them, riding out at least a mile in advance of the carts and the other riders. Since the news had come, there had been no time to be alone, no time to mourn, no time to think, only time for the immediate business, and first things must come first.

They had started to drive cattle to the gold fields because Logan Sackett had promised it. Therefore the job must be continued. Logan was still in trouble, and a Sackett had given his word.

Rumor had it his brothers were dead. He did not believe it, yet it could be. Men died every day, and his brothers were no more immune than their father had been.

It was his mission now to go to the area, accept the risks it entailed, round up the cattle if possible, and find and bury the bodies of his brothers.

Feeling sad was a luxury he could not afford at the moment. With resolution, he turned from sadness to the task at hand. Now, with all going forward, he could think, so he rode far out before his small party where he could ride alone.

He was alone, simply with his horse, the sound of his pa.s.sing, and the wind in the gra.s.s.

Tell and Tyrel a" gone! That he could not accept, even for the moment. Tell had always been the older brother, strong, quiet, and sure. He had been less talkative, even, than Tyrel, who was himself quiet. He, Orrin, had always been the easy-talking one, taking after the Welsh side of the family.

He remembered the day when Tell, still only a boy, had ridden off to war. They lived in the mountains of Tennessee and had kinfolk fighting for the Confederacy, but Tell had said, "Ma, I'm a goin' to war. I'm goin' to fight for the Union."

"For the Union, son?"

"Yes, ma. It's my bounden duty. Our folks fought to build this country, and I'll not turn my back on it. It's our country, all of it, Not just the South. And there's many a boy in Kentucky and Tennessee feels likewise."

He went in the night, using the old Indian trails, that only mountain folk knew, and somehow he got through to Ohio, and eventually he'd wound up in the Sixth Cavalry. He never said much about the war years, and if he met any kinfolk on the field of battle, he didn't say.