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Erin followed the obvious signs of trampled grasses to look for the cattle. They could have run miles for all she knew, but she wasn’t about to let them get away that easily. She knew there could be a few Indians over the next rise or an entire war party. She rode with a gun in her hand but didn’t know how much help that would be if she had to shoot it. It might take too long to load it again if there was too many for her to handle. She had considered waiting for those from the wagon train to send out a party, but she knew it would take them too long. There were too many people voicing their opinions, and she wasn’t willing to wait. Cattle would rush blindly, but the grass was long and tempting, and that would slow them down. She wasn’t wrong, and she spotted her first cow about a mile from the wagon train. Glancing around frequently to see if she could spot any other people or animals, she cautiously approached the grazing cow, who moved off a few feet as she approached. It wasn’t one of hers. She went on, letting the stallion have his head through the deep grass. He was in an odd mood and behaving for a change.
Over the next hill, she spotted about twenty more cattle along with three of her milk cows and began to whistle. Several heads, including her beloved Billy’s, went up as they heard the noise. Smiling, she was pleased to see them. Glancing about, she saw more on the hillside, spreading out as they ate their fill. She circled around the grazing group and started to whistle again. Two more heads came up; her fourth milk cow was found. She went up the rise in the hill and looked over. She could see where some of the cattle had gone, but they were farther away. She debated going after them, but she was far from the wagon train, and she knew Wallace had been right When he said that anyone leaving the safety of the train was going to get killed by Indians. Just as she made the decision to leave the cows farthest out and return with what she had found, Queenie came running out of the long grass, panting, pleased to have found her. She sat, ready to do Erin’s bidding.
“Why, Queenie. What are you doing here?” she asked the dog, just as pleased to see her and wondering what had happened to the sheep. She thought perhaps they had found them, at least some of them, and either Tabitha or Molly had sent the dog. She glanced back down the hill to the other cattle. The dog followed her gaze, almost as though she was reading her mind, then looked back and stood up, ready to go.
Erin knew God had probably had a hand in this, and she gave into the pleading look on the working dog’s face. “Go get ‘em, girl,” she commanded her, giving her a sweeping motion of her arm and pointing out at the far-off cows. She soon lost the Tervuren in the long grasses, occasionally seeing her hop up over the grasses to get a better look at where she was heading. She marveled at the intelligence of her dog as she saw her circle around the cows and begin to bring them in, but the cattle didn’t want to be brought in because they’d found long grass to eat to their hearts’ content. They did, however, fear this Tervuren dog, who would bite at their heels, tails, or whatever it took to get them moving.
Erin didn’t keep her eyes on the cows the dog was bringing in. She kept scanning the horizon around them, wondering if the group from the wagon train would be coming soon, or at all, or if, perhaps, there were Indians waiting for her on the way back. After all, a lone man, or this case, a lone woman pushing cows was a foolish endeavor even with a dog helping. Her constant vigilance paid off as she saw the Indians before they saw her and was able to pull the horse back off the rise. Only her head was visible above the grasses as she looked and saw them heading off, single file, slightly north and east. If any of the cattle had made it that far, the Indians were welcome to them. She pulled the stallion backwards a few more feet and started to head down the hill, pushing cattle towards Billy and his herd of runaways. She began whistling, so as not to scare the already riled up cattle. A second stampede would be disastrous. As she got them going up the lower hill, she turned back and saw the first of the cattle that Queenie was herding come up over the hill. They were painfully slow but maybe that was to her benefit as it might look like they were meandering.
She kept her group going and then stopped off to the side to watch Queenie work them. The dog could see her now, and she made a signal that would hurry the dog a bit, maybe get the cattle running, and it worked. Going downhill and seeing the other cows, they hurried a bit, breaking into a run but not a mad rush like in a stampede. They slowed as they hit the shorter hill, but she was counting the minutes it might have saved, worrying if the Indians might investigate the downtrodden grasses and find the cattle. As Queenie continued to harry them, she pushed more of them on, picking up the lone cow that she had seen in the first place. As the two herds came together, she counted and thought perhaps they had only lost maybe ten cows total, two of them hers. They had the milk cows though, and for that she was grateful. She hoped they wouldn’t lose their milk with the mad rush of the stampede. Looking back repeatedly, she worried about the Indians.
She met the men who had volunteered to search for the cattle about half a mile from the wagon train. She was relieved, the worry of having to abandon the stock for the safety of the train, constantly on her mind.
“You had no permission to leave the train,” Wallace started in on her.
“I went after the cattle,” Erin returned hotly. She was tired, she was hot and sweaty, and she was worried. “Can you tell me about it later? We got company.”
“What do you mean, ‘We got company?’” he asked, confused, looking around.
“I saw Indians a ways back,” she pointed behind her where the path they had traveled was clearly visible in the grass. “I don’t know if they saw me or the cattle. I wasn’t sticking around to ask.”
He gazed at Herriot for a moment before he started off, warning the other men, and everyone started hurrying the cattle. Erin started whistling for her own cattle and cows. Knowing that her whistle meant comfort, food, and care, they began moving off to the side with her, Billy, and Queenie encouraging them. The men from the wagon train didn’t even notice in their haste to get back to the relative safety of the train.
When the wagon was pulled back to allow the cattle to get in the middle, Erin’s were the last to enter, and she saw that only four of their sheep were there. She called to Queenie and turned to her wagon once they were through and the wagon was being pushed back.
“Only four sheep?” she asked, looking around.
“I’m sorry, Pa, but you said not to go out of sight of the wagons,” Tabitha apologized.
“No, you done...did right,” she answered, giving the young girl a smile. “How is everyone?” she asked, looking for Molly.
“Ma stitched up the mare and tied off King. He woke up, but someone died in the stampede and Ma went to find out who was screaming.” She pointed across the circle and Erin, on the horse, was able to see above the milling cattle. At Wallace’s command, men were already getting their guns out in preparation for a possible Indian attack.
Erin knew they wouldn’t go look for her sheep; they weren’t important enough in the scheme of things. Glancing down to where Queenie was lapping up some water from a dish that had been put down, she looked at King. He looked slightly ill. He was not himself. Neither dog was able to go with her, but the stallion was willing to go. He was young, healthy, and had enjoyed the run today. She glanced at a panting Queenie. She’d run a lot today. Dare she ask more of the dog?
“Herriot, how far off would you say those Indians were?” one of Wallace’s lieutenants asked her.
“I found the cattle about a mile that a way,” she pointed. “They were beyond that.”
“Were they painted? Dressed up for war?”
“I couldn’t tell, but I could tell they weren’t white people.”
He muttered something Erin couldn’t hear, but she ignored him as she contemplated looking for her sheep. The four sheep they had found were grazing not too far from their own wagon. Theo was watching them, keeping strange dogs away.
“Herriot, I was talkin’ to you!”
Erin looked at the man again, surprised. She had been lost in thought, wondering if she went towards where she had last seen the sheep she’d might find more. It was a quick ride; however, the drive back had taken a lot of time. They could be anywhere now, and there was the probability of Indians. “Sorry, I was thinking,” she answered, looking at the man.
“I said, ‘You can get off your horse now and rub him down. We need every rifle.’”
Erin had to concede he was probably right, but she wanted to look for the other sheep. There would be no hope for them out here untended. They didn’t know where there was water, and while good graze abounded, coyotes or wolves would soon have them. She glanced at the sun. It was well after noon. She made her decision and began to weave the horse between the wagons.
“Herriot, where are you going?” a voice called, but Erin kept her back to the man as she signaled Queenie. The dog soon figured out they were heading to where the sheep had been brought in.
“Can you find them, girl?” she asked but didn’t expect a reply as she began to ride faster, hearing someone call from the wagon circle.
“Where the hell is he going?”
“He’s going to get killed!”
“He’ll lead the Indians right to us!”
Tabitha listened to the voices raised against her pa and turned on them. “My pa was the first to go out after them cattle, and now, he’s going after our sheep. I don’t see none of you going after him to help.”
“We went after the cattle,” someone protested, dismissing the little girl’s claim.
“My pa was quicker and got there first, I bet,” she answered, shaking at her temerity and turning away before she started crying. Both Theresa and Tommy, who were petting King and keeping him calm, stared at her in surprise. King had wanted to go after Queenie and Erin, but the rope held him back. Timmy climbed down out of the wagon trying to carry one of the pups, and Tabitha helped him before he either dropped the growing pup or fell.
Erin kept the stallion at a run, letting him have his head. The grass showed where the sheep had been, but already, that was fading, and she was no tracker. Remembering where she had seen them was harder after this short time, but she trusted her dog and slowed, so Queenie could get ahead of her. They began to track to the west a ways, but she could still see the wagon train, the smoke from the fire a beacon for those Indians if they were inclined to come calling.
She spotted the sheep and the Indians at the same time. The sheep were west of her in a draw, not all of them but enough that she wanted the dog to round them up. The Indians were north of them and coming on fast. She rode towards the draw in a split decision and put Queenie on a down. She pulled the stallion to a halt and turned his head so abruptly he went down. She sat on his head to keep him on the ground, so he couldn’t rise. Breathing hard, her heart racing, she stayed there, hoping that none of the Indians had seen her and no one would see the path she had made through the grasses.