The White Buffalo Page #2

You wouldn't push me out

on Red Cloud's big open.

For the love of heaven, no, you wouldn't!

No!

Otis! Otis!

Otis, not here!

Otis! Otis!

Otis, wait for me!

You wait! Wait!

Don't leave me alone out here!

You can't maroon a white man

in this country!

You can't!

I told him.

You're about as green as snow.

Come on, old boy.

Come on around.

Hey, dude.

Give me a hand!

Help me tie these

chowderheads off to the boot.

We have more important business over here.

Oh, hell!

This one here is Jim Hanley.

The other one's Pokerdeck Baker.

They had a mine up yonder on the hill.

Come on, let's get 'em inside.

Get a hold of old Jim's boots

before he catches his death of cold.

I'll get them horses.

Boy.

Lord Almighty!

You think you got him?

Well, at least ways

you sprinkled a little pepper on him.

Jesus sakes, if you ain't Old Lightning!

And all the time I's a thinking

you didn't know B from bullshit!

This lady's walking the streets of glory.

God damn!

Blue Whistler must have

caught her right in the third eye.

Maybe you'd better ride up

on the box with me.

Doesn't make any sense.

No sane Indian would ride the warpath

in this kind of weather.

No sense at all, not even for a Sioux.

Well, they ain't worried about it none.

Why should you?

Giddyap there, come on.

Giddyap. Come on. Giddyap.

Well, there she is, partner. Fetterman!

Metropolis of the Bozeman Trail!

Prettier than a nine teat sow, ain't she?

Giddyap up there!

Giddyap, there.

...up there, Amos.

What in hades hell you hauling back there?

Couple of buff hunters.

Who beefed them?

Each to other.

After they made glass

out of two quarts of Old Crow.

This one with the grey socks,

said he'd been charged by a white buff,

back in the Black Hills

near the Elk Mountains.

This one with the moccasins,

allowed as how this one

was a fork tongue lying a**hole.

Well, the last white spike

was put in a hole

down on the Cimarron last month.

Amen.

When you get through planting them two,

I got three more customers

for you inside the coach.

And I believe they've got enough money

to pay for their own boxes.

Right kindly of you, Abel.

You better lay 'em out

in the snow till I get back.

Keep 'em fresh.

You think that buff hunter

really did see a white spike?

No! Most likely just Sioux smoke

to keep the whites

from gold hunting in them hills.

Will you look after my plunder

while I find a place to roost?

There's only one place to roost.

Mrs. Schermerhorn's.

God Almighty, the cats!

Hope they're all right.

Yeah. You know, this bad-eyed geezer

gave me ten dollars

to scare up all the stray cats

I could find in Cheyenne.

Would this geezer sporting a bad eye

go calling himself Charlie Zane?

Yeah, that's the bastard. You know him?

I know him.

You can warm your behind at the stove.

Like some coffee?

It's strong enough to float a Colt.

I'd be forever in your debt, ma'am.

Never mind the fancies.

I'm Mrs. Schermerhorn.

My pleasure.

Do I know you?

James Otis, ma'am.

Don't know any Otis.

But you sure as sin remind me of...

Turn around!

Poker Jenny, I believe.

Bill!

You four-flushing son of a b*tch!

You cold decked me.

If you ain't a sight for a widow in weeds!

I always could get you

mounted fast, couldn't I?

Such talk!

How long ago was it

when we pleasured in Hays City, huh?

Seems like forever, Cateyes.

It's been that way for me, too, Jen.

Well, tell me, what

brings you up in this neck, huh?

Custer's gold.

Yeah.

Well, there's a heap up

in those Black Hills.

I'm starving you to death, Cateyes.

You wait right here.

Guess you heard about me and Lucas

Schermerhorn getting noosed, huh?

Just about the same time

I heard you were a widow again.

Don't be a bastard.

Lucas was a lucky man, Jen.

Thank you, Cateyes.

Why do you always call me Cateyes?

Ain't you ever seen

those wild eyes of yours

when you're loving it up,

or when you're hitching

your pistols on for a shindy?

I'm a man of comity,

I've always dodged a fight.

Comity? Sure.

You're the most politest shootist

who ever blew a man's brains out.

I'm too done in

to even argue about it, Jen.

Why don't you let me

put you to bed in my room?

Jen, I ain't got the gumption for it.

That'll the day.

Truth.

You just lie still there.

I'll fly the eagle.

No, Jen.

Some time back, one of your

scarlet sisters dosed me proper.

I'm not about to ride the high horse.

Hell, I probably gave it to you myself.

I'll take the chance.

But I won't.

All right, Cateyes.

You take yourself a sound snooze.

But since you're a gambling man,

I'll bet you 6-2 and even

that when you wake up,

I'll talk you into it.

We'll see.

I'll leave the door open,

in case you need anything.

Dear Mother of God!

Dear Mother of God!

It was like you were fighting

Armageddon with Satan himself!

It's all right. It's all right.

But you damned near drowned me!

Where the hell did that thing come from?

When Bill Cody was

shooting meat for the railroad,

they thought it'd be a good stunt to

pass out buff heads to all the nabobs.

And they gave you a white buff head?

You, a doxie? That's worth 2,000 gold.

It ain't real. I mean, I had it painted.

I put in the pink eyes.

Jesus. I'm sorry, Jen.

I'll get it mended.

I don't ever want to see it again!

Well, hell spawn.

If the time's come for neck or nothing,

you've found your man.

Bill. Has that sickness gone to your head?

This damn dream, Jen,

hangs on like a low water leech.

If I don't kill this buff,

the dream will kill me.

It's like my own fate

was chasing me into the grave.

You have to turn away from it, Bill.

I got to call it out.

Call out a dream?

The only way.

But don't worry, Jen,

I'll be gone in the morning.

Frozen Dog's a hellhole.

Keep a wall at your back.

You're alone up there.

I'm used to that.

Bill.

I lost my bet.

No, Jen. I did.

Now be gentlemen.

Now give the ladies some room here.

It's ten dollars for one minute, gents.

One golden eagle for sixty seconds!

And then ride that horse

for just as long as you can pay

or there'll be a short funeral at sunup!

Come on, boys, line up over here.

All right, come on, let's get

over there, you silly peckerwood.

Now be gentlemen.

Give the ladies some room.

Now don't fret about it, Charlie.

Come on back when you got

some iron in your barrel,

and it'll be my treat.

Yeah. Well, thank you kindly, Frieda.

Jim, you in good luck today 'cause

you gonna meet my beautiful Frieda!

To the Republic.

Well, old timer.

All curried and tame?

Name's James Otis.

Old timer, I'm looking for

a glass-eyed goose hisser

named Charlie Zane.

Princely fellow.

This fella Zane wears a snow white mane,

which got that way

'cause he's scared of redskins.

He's been known to puddle his britches

at a Kiowa war whoop.

You old fiddlefoot!

Charlie, you sure Custer

found gold up there

and not a field of dandelions?

He struck it.

Then what's a backshooting

claim jumper like you

doing here instead of there?

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