The White Buffalo Page #3

You need gear to dig a mine.

I had to raise a bankroll.

The cats!

All right, gents, come now.

Line up for the...

Place your bets.

You figuring on marshaling

in this one-dog town?

No, I'll never wear the tin again.

I know why you're here.

You're on a scout for the white buffalo.

Old timer, I thought

you were too ripe for fairy tales.

Well, would you believe it

from an eyewitness?

Depends which eye.

Don't cornhole me, young sass!

I was with General Custer when we hit

the nuggets at French Creek

and that lollygagger of a buff

challenged the whole goddamn

Seventh Cavalry to a showdown!

It's all coming true.

What're you prattling about?

Old timer.

Straight tongue.

You really saw a white spike?

Saw him?

Son-of-a-b*tch threw

half a mountain down on me.

Barkeep! Two stiff horns of gin.

And mind you,

none of that pig pee

you spigot out to these swill bellies.

I only sell the fizz, friend.

I don't make it.

Five dollars a bottle.

You insinuating

we're shortshirks in this camp, Mr...

Brady is the name.

There was a defalcating son-of-a-b*tch

down in the nations named Brady.

He sold six barrels to Chief Mo-Wi

and his Comanches.

And after them stinking redskins

got lubricated up,

they made a little war

and wiped out half of my outfit.

That's a hell of a thing, Mr...

Kileen.

Whistling Jack Kileen?

Well, now, look, Mr. Kileen.

The name Brady's as common

as hen sh*t back in the old country.

I ain't your man.

I'm only an old damn harp

out from the States

trying to make a roll.

And to show you the good faith,

gin is on the house.

That's mighty generous.

Maybe too damn generous.

All right, you jaspers,

you've had my table long enough.

- Skedaddle.

- Yeah, you don't say.

I just did.

- Aaron!

- Yup!

Watch those hide hunters.

Sure enough.

Mr. Otis, I'll pay you 500 in gold

if you'll back me

in any play made here tonight.

Who are they?

Where?

Behind your glass eye.

The long bean is Whistling Jack Kileen.

He's the meanest son-of-a-b*tch alive.

I was in Julesburg when I saw him

cut an Indian trader into 300 pieces

for selling a Winchester to Roman Nose.

And the sprag's name is Kid Jelly.

A grease spot,

and I mean hot grease.

No, thanks, Mr. Brady.

It's not my fight.

Well, it damn well might be

if Kileen knows who you really are.

Hey, what kind of tattle

you talking about?

I'm talking about what happened

down in Cheyenne City

two days ago!

You're talking yourself to death.

Tom Custer and some of his larrigans

tried to brace me at Paddy Welch's.

Kileen's kid was one of them.

How'll it go?

Brady'll send the kid over with a couple

of free bottles of "Oh Be Joyful."

When he gets there,

he'll drop the word like a buffalo chip.

I just heard the plop.

Keep your shitty boots

outta my way, old man,

unless you wanna be buried in 'em!

Now, now, sonny boy.

Didn't your ma never tell you

your mouth wasn't made for breaking wind?

.36 is my caliber.

I was brought up bad.

You crazy son-of-a-b*tch.

Nine's the winner.

Pay the nine.

Place your bets.

This one's found his mark.

And here comes the kid. Jiggers.

Mind the Texan.

Make your play, you glass-eyed gasbag!

Cover my back, old timer.

This is your night, Hickok.

But there's gonna be another time.

Don't let me see you again.

I hope you don't think

I had anything to do...

You peached.

I swear by Sweet Jesus I didn't.

You swear yourself to Hell!

It's Wild Bill Hickok himself!

He got 'em both with one shot.

He got 'em both with one shot!

Well, Captain,

your new name didn't last long.

You sure used this town up fast.

We'd best show a heel in these parts.

Question is, which way?

New camp forming up north.

Place called Deadwood Gulch.

Charlie,

you know what I hate more

than anything else in this world?

More than Indians?

Even more than dying.

What?

Being afraid.

What, you mean in there?

I mean out there.

Easterly?

That's Sioux land.

There's nothing out there

but the Big Open and the Black Hills.

And the white buffalo.

How many men you rubbed out, Captain?

Mostly Indians.

You really got no gut for Indians, do you?

Like Phil Sheridan said,

"I ain't never seen a good Indian

that wasn't dead."

Take it easy, old timer.

He's out of range.

Looks like he's on his own.

We'd best get out of here.

Use the long gun.

I'll take the Winchester.

Rein up, Captain. Ain't our fight.

Look down below.

It's an Indian hullabaloo.

But she's a daisy!

Troop of Absarokes chasing

one flea-bit Sioux egg-sucker.

What are Crows doing in Sioux country?

Yeah. Probably heard about the white buff

on the Moccasin telegraph.

Fifteen, I count.

Listen to that red n*gger take on!

He's madder than a wet mouse

and don't scare worth a hiccup!

No chance, though.

Fifteen to one.

Fifteen to three.

You're gonna take a hand?

I'm gonna flank them.

Peel an eye, Captain.

Hello, White-eye.

My heart is good.

I thank you for helping me

kill my enemies.

Friend. You are very brave.

Come to my council.

It cannot be done.

Father sun climbs high.

And it's far to the lodges of my people.

But I will not forget you, White-eye.

Want I should splat him, Captain?

Nervy rooster, ain't he?

You must be wearing hard bark to turn

your back on that scratch cat.

You know damn well

brave men don't back shoot.

And that redskin's all sand.

You gonna let him march out

and raise troops?

You're prating like a farmer, Charlie!

He's after the white buff, same as us.

Well, let me finish him now.

- Then we'd never find out.

- What?

Whether or not he knows

where that white spike is.

Indians?

No. Thought I heard buffalo.

Wait. I got a peeper.

By heaven!

Old timer, shake out a round!

I see him!

I see him!

What the hell!

He walked into solid rock!

No, there's a cave up there.

That's where we'll camp tonight.

What about old Nicodemus?

He won't hang around.

You damn sure?

It's not in my nightmare.

Break out some tallow.

Make some more of these, Charlie.

You really going in that

Black Hole of Calcut?

I've got a friend.

Hell spawn's gone.

There's another hole back there.

He knows his way back.

It's not in my dream.

There has to be snow.

Heavy snow.

I sure as hell wish you hadn't said that.

Mare broke loose.

That scurvy spike has killed the mare.

He's hightailed it

to the other side of the mountain.

For God's sake, Captain, wait up!

Charlie!

Keep your noodle down!

This is between Hickok and us.

Hickok!

Here I am, Hickok!

Go ahead, take a couple of shots!

If you think your short guns

will reach that far!

Well, come on!

What's the matter, Hickok?

Hey! Here I am up here!

Well, come on!

What're you waiting for, Hickok?

Come on!

Damn you, Hickok!

Make your move! I don't wanna have to

put a bullet in a frozen carcass.

Hang on, Captain! I'll get you home!

Stay put, Charlie!

Gyp, where's Ben?

He's gone to hell in a hurry!

All right, then, you make your move

before the storm gives Hickok cover!

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