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Eagles Claw: Bears and Eagles, #2
Eagles Claw: Bears and Eagles, #2
Eagles Claw: Bears and Eagles, #2
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Eagles Claw: Bears and Eagles, #2

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A new trail is blazed in this riveting follow-up to author R.P. Wollbaum's Bears and Eagles.

Andreas Bekenbaum, a minor Russian noble, is heading to Canada after negotiating a land grant in exchange for providing a militia and police force for the area​.

The road there is anything but easy, however, as Andreas and his family encounter Native Americans, a renegade whiskey trading gang, and other dangers on their way to find their new home in the foothills of the Canadian Rocky Mountains.

But find it they do, and it's a good life - until government officials once again call upon Andreas to lead. This time, he is charged with commanding troops in South Africa on behalf of the British. And his eldest son, Stephan, is comming along for the ride.

This sweeping historical saga provides readers a riveting glimpse into a past where anything is possible.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherR.P. Wollbaum
Release dateNov 27, 2015
ISBN9780994024930
Eagles Claw: Bears and Eagles, #2
Author

R.P. Wollbaum

R.P. Wollbaum and his faithful companions Lady and Baron, live in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Southern Alberta Canada. When not busy composing a new novel, he can be found exploring North America in 'Da Buss'.

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    Eagles Claw - R.P. Wollbaum

    Eagles Claw

    ––––––––

    A Bears and Eagles Novel

    R. P. Wollbaum

    First Published in Canada by Midar and Associates Ltd.  2014

    Copyright © R.P. Wollbaum 2014

    While some of the events and characters are based on historical incidents and figures, this novel is entirely a work of fiction.

    ISBN: 9780994024947

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electric, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

    Contents

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Characters:

    Part One

    Chapter One

    They had arrived the afternoon earlier, had unloaded all their personnel, livestock, and supplies, and been escorted to the new camp growing about a mile to the west of Fort Laramie. William had been on the first train in and had picked out the camp spot they would be occupying until the whole contingent arrived. That first night had been a frenzied affair, getting everyone settled, and this was the first opportunity Andreas and Elizabeth had had to stretch their legs and see the limited sights. A single dirt road ran down the center of the town with warehouses and drinking establishments staggered haphazardly along its length. A group of ten very rough-looking, bearded men were lounging in front of one of the saloons, passing a bottle around. William had told him they were buffalo hunters hired by the army to supply the army with meat. Four of the men, after some elbowing and words of encouragement from their comrades, got up and walked across the street to confront Andreas and Elizabeth.

    Well, well, looky what we got here, said the apparent leader of the group. If’n it ain’t more of them immigrant sod busters and his pretty little filly.

    The man did not notice Andreas casually unbuckle his holster flap, or that Elizabeth had done the same. The man pulled out a .32 caliber pistol from his waist that had seen better days and waved it in Andreas’s direction. The other three men putting their hands on similar pistols’ butts.

    How ’bout you hand that pretty thang over here and we’ll give her back to ya alive when we’re done with her, the man demanded. Andreas just narrowed his eyes and looked at the man.

    I said, hand her over, you damned sod buster, the man yelled and fired a shot in the ground at Andreas’s feet, the other men laughing.

    Holding his holster down with his left hand, Andreas pulled out the Colt with his right hand and shot the man in the bridge of his nose. Elizabeth shot the man on the right through the left eye as he began to pull his pistol out, and they both shot the remaining two men in the chest as they were leveling their weapons at them. Andreas casually walked up and kicked the weapons from the dead men’s hands while reloading the Colt and looked at the remaining men across the street.

    Anyone else interested in having some fun? he asked. My wife and I could use the practice.

    All the men across the street put their hands up palms forward and, shaking their heads, backed away as the sound of galloping hooves could be heard coming from the fort and Andreas’s temporary camp. Four blue-coated soldiers arrived to see a dozen of Andreas’s men deployed in a skirmish line, Winchesters covering the group of buffalo hunters.

    What’s going on here? demanded the blue-coated officer, keeping his hands away from his weapons.

    Oh, nothing to concern yourself over, sir, replied Elizabeth sweetly, gesturing at the four men on the ground. These men threatened us with violence, and my husband and I took care of it.

    The officer looked over at the buffalo hunters, and all the men were nodding their heads in agreement, trying to back away out of the line of fire.

    Stand down! barked Andreas to his men. Sorry to disturb you on this wonderful morning, we were on our way to pay our respects to your commander before we were interrupted. Do you think he could find some time in his busy day to see us?

    Um, yes, um, the discomforted young officer stumbled.

    Perhaps you could inform him we will be there shortly? Elizabeth smiled as she asked.

    Senior Sergeant, if you would be so kind as to bring us our horses? I believe they could use some exercise, Andreas asked one of his troopers. The rest of you can head back to camp; the fun for the morning is over.

    His men saluted, saddled up, and headed back to camp as ordered, as the clearly confused blue-coated men looked on and the buffalo hunters beat a hasty retreat. Andreas looked at the young officer and raised his right eyebrow.

    Yes, sir, right away, sir, the man said, saluting, and turning his horse, galloped with his three troopers back to camp.

    Andreas rolled two cigarettes; handing one to Elizabeth, he struck a match and lit them both before they resumed their stroll arm-in-arm down the street leading to the fort.

    What a strange country, she said. They have such wonderful things, like these matches and railroads and coffee, then there are those brutes. It is all so primitive.

    I think you would find it much the same on the frontiers of Russia, Andreas said. Anywhere where there is a lack of women and rule of law would be much the same. The strong take from the weak. Those men have been in the habit of taking what they want from the farmers coming through here. They assumed everyone is the same. Word will soon get around to leave us alone, especially when we are all here.

    Just then, two troopers arrived leading saddled Bartholomew and Lady. Andreas thanked the two troopers, and the couple trotted up to the military installation, where they were ushered into the headquarters office. A long-blond-haired and bearded officer sat behind his desk ignoring the couple as he did some make-believe paperwork, trying to make it look like he was busy.

    After about a minute of this, Andreas took Elizabeth’s arm and they turned and walked out the door.

    When His Holiness in there decides to be polite, tell him Earl Bekenbaum came by to pay his respects, said Andreas to the astonished sergeant in the outer office. Then man and wife walked out the door, mounted their horses, and galloped out of the fort before anyone had a chance to say anything to them.

    You did what to that pompous ass? said William when Andreas explained to him what had happened. It’s about time somebody did that. He went on to explain how the officer had used his political advantages during the war to have himself promoted beyond his abilities. How he had covered himself in glory at the cost of his men, time and again.

    If not for his wife, he would have been back as a captain, major at most, after the war, not a lieutenant colonel, William said.

    Just as William finished, the officer in question and three majors rode up and stopped in a cloud of dust in front of the awning William, Elizabeth, and Andreas were seated under. The man had a non-regulation floppy hat on his head and a buckskin jacket, with his officer’s insignia sewn on to the shoulders. He did not bother to dismount and, crossing his hands, leaned on the saddle horn, not saying anything.

    Major Olynick, is the habit in your army for inferior ranks not to dismount and report properly to superior officers? In my army, we would shoot the man, said Andreas to William.

    Yes, I believe I saw you demonstrate just that to a British captain one day. What was his name again; oh yes, Featherstone, he looked rather odd with a third eye above his nose, replied William to Elizabeth’s snicker.

    Andreas stood up as a realization that he might have done something wrong crossed the blond-haired officer’s mind.

    Lieutenant Colonel, I am General Bekenbaum, late of the Imperial Life Guard Cavalry of Russia; this is my wife, Colonel Bekenbaum, and Major Olynick, both of the same regiment. Now, if you have nothing to say, if you and your officers would kindly leave, your stinky horses are ruining our lunch.

    The man and his three officers hastily dismounted and saluted, somewhat sloppily. Andreas came to attention and returned their salute crisply.

    Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, Seventh US Cavalry at your service, sir, the man said.

    Andreas waved at a couple of his waiting troopers, who took the four men’s horses away.

    Have a seat, gentlemen, Andreas told the Americans. William, pour the gentlemen some of that poor excuse for coffee you made. I am afraid that is all I can offer you gentlemen until the rest of our supplies catch up with us.

    Custer turned to one of his officers and said, Olynick? There was an Olynick commanding the First Cav during the war, wasn’t there? But, he is off fighting with the Russians . . .

    Yes, George, that would be me, said William.

    But, but that would mean, stumbled Custer, that would mean you are Cossacks, the best light cavalry in the world, according to the great Napoleon.

    Ah, yes, Napoleon, charge to the sound of the guns and all that rot. That’s what those Indians were trying with us, William, cost me two good men proving them wrong, replied Andreas.

    You’ve already had trouble with Indians? asked Custer. When, where, and how many? I will need to send a report on it to headquarters.

    Oh, sorry, George, said William. The Indians the general is referring to are the ones we ran into in Afghanistan. Real Indians from India, not the local tribes we call Indians.

    I see, said Custer, not much of an engagement then, only a skirmish, losing two men?

    It lasted, what, Andreas? Ten, twenty minutes, tops? replied William. They waited for our first volley, then charged us knee-to-knee—lances pointed and sabers waving. Brave men, we stacked them up like cordwood with our Winchesters before they broke. Countess Elizabeth and her group were stationed on the flanks and made it very difficult for the enemy to get away, that’s when we suffered our casualties. They suffered, what, about ninety percent casualties, Andreas?

    I think they had a final count of eleven thousand dead. Awful waste of good men and horse flesh, answered Andreas.

    Yes, amazing what one thousand Winchesters can do in a situation like that, continued William. You see, George, we one thousand Eagles were the anvil, and Elizabeth’s Bears and a couple of British battalions were the hammer. There were three thousand of us in all.

    Enough of the boasting, William, Andreas said. It was a terrible day. Someone is answering to God for all that loss of life. Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel, what are my people and I likely to face as we travel through your country? I think we will have twenty-five hundred cavalry troopers and about three thousand civilians in our party.

    With that big a group, the worst you should face is some ambush and raiding. The tribes won’t be foolish enough to take you head on, but any groups smaller than twenty-five could be in trouble, an astonished Custer said. Depends on which route and how far you are going.

    We will be taking the Bozeman Trail, then heading to Great Falls, following the Lewis and Clark Route. After that, we head north across the border into Canada, said Andreas.

    That’s a long trip with settlers in tow, said Custer.

    I am not sure about the Germans coming, but we are used to this type of travel and how fast we will be moving. Our whole culture is based on movement, fast movement. The Germans and the cattle will have to adapt or drop behind, continued Andreas.

    Cattle, Germans? asked Custer.

    Yes, Andreas said. Five hundred King’s Loyal German Cavalry and their families will be joining us, some should be here starting tomorrow. One thousand head of cattle are being driven here from Texas.

    German Hussars? said one of the majors with Irish-accented English. Those green jackets are fine troops. I served with them in Europe.

    Ah, Crimea, said Andreas. My father was there; bad leadership on both sides. That is the reason we are here. Wars being fought generation after generation, many times the same places. Sometimes fighting people who were allies the last war. You, here, are protecting your countrymen, you have chosen this life. We have no choice; we must serve and, many times, die. Then when we do get out, we have to go into a trade or life that is chosen for us, not what we want. Here we can do anything, be anything.

    The natives on the route you have chosen are upset. They may think you are invading them with that many people going through their lands. I am not sure it will be prudent for us to let you proceed down the Bozeman. Perhaps another route would be better, said Custer.

    I understand you have a Canadian Métis for a scout. Does he have good contacts within the tribes whose lands we will be travelling through? Could he, perhaps, arrange a meeting between us so that I can explain the situation? asked Andreas.

    Not sure that would help. You are a different color and culture than they, Custer answered.

    George, said William, in Afghanistan they hated whites and Christians. Not just disliked, hated. Within a few weeks, Andreas was able to not only stop them from snipping and raiding us, they became allies. I have observed him doing that time and time again.

    Really? asked Custer. Killing four men and insulting the local military commander on his first day is not a way to endear many people to him.

    You are here talking to me, no? Andreas said. You are no longer upset but helping me, yes? Remove the ego and every man is, at heart, the same. Perhaps, if someone had put a stop to those hunters earlier, drastic measures would not have had to be taken and four lives may have been saved. Look there, Andreas pointed at four hunters talking with one of his junior officers. The officer looked towards the senior officers and Andreas waved for him to bring the men forward.

    Let us see what they have to say, he said, standing up.

    Gräfin, these men wish to speak with you, the captain, a Bear from the administration company, said in Russian.

    Thank you, Captain, replied Andreas in English. It is impolite not to speak English in front of our guests, Captain, please remember that in the future.

    Yes, sir, sorry, my lord, the man said in English, saluting.

    How can I help you gentlemen, some coffee, perhaps? Andreas asked the four burly men. I am Andreas Bekenbaum. My people have chosen me to be their leader for this expedition, he said, sticking his hand out to one of the men.

    Bill Hasendorf, the man said in German-accented English, shaking Andreas’s proffered hand. My fellows and I apologize; we could do nothing about those men. They would kill us if we said anything. Look, we know a way to get from Great Falls up north, where maybe you go. We know all the chiefs, maybe we can help?

    That would be a great help; we have some maps, but grazing and river crossings are not well marked. How are your relations with the tribes along the Bozeman? Andreas remarked.

    The man shrugged his shoulders. Today ok, tomorrow? Your group is large and well-armed, could be a good thing; might be a challenge to them, though. Your group is not that big to threaten them if they decide to band together and come at you.

    This is not all of us, said Andreas. When everyone is here there will be five thousand of us, half are war veterans. Used to the kind of warfare these tribes are likely to use against us, in similar terrain. If their young ones decide to raid us to prove themselves, they may be in for an unpleasant surprise.

    If I can arrange it, would you be willing to meet some elders? It may help, said Bill.

    That would be perfect, we were just discussing that, Andreas replied.

    The man agreed, shook hands all around, and left with his comrades.

    Andreas turned to Custer and said, If you will excuse me, Colonel. The train should be arriving soon. Elizabeth and I really should be on hand to great this contingent. Saluting the men, Andreas took Elizabeth’s arm and they walked toward the train station.

    I saw it and still don’t believe it, said Custer to William. Those men would have bushwhacked anyone else. Look at how his own men act towards him, it’s uncanny.

    He has more money than any of them. In fact, he is funding this whole emigration himself. He is a better rider and fighter than almost all of them. Yet he treats everyone, down to the lowest private or servant, with respect. He also expects the same from them. You know, three years ago, he was a private trooper hoping to make enough money and stay alive on his first campaign, to buy a small farm. Now he owns one hundred fifty thousand acres up in Canada and has enough money to buy the same again, William said to Custer.

    When those Indian cavalry formed up and began their charge, I don’t mind telling you, George, I thought we were dead men. Andreas, he smiled. I couldn’t believe it, he smiled. Then he just calmly rode up and down the skirmish line, giving encouraging words or a joke with the lads and the odd shot to a trooper that had broken through. He and that Canadian kid, calmly doing their jobs like they were on a training exercise. All it would have taken was one man to turn chicken and run and we were goners. I would go to hell and back for that man.

    Elizabeth was sitting on a rough bench on the train platform, her back against the wall of the station, legs stretched out in front, holding a cup of coffee one of their troopers had given her. There were twenty-five troopers lounging around the platform, waiting for the inbound train, to help unload and direct the newcomers and their possessions. Andreas, as usual, was casually moving among them, giving or being the brunt of a joke or listening to a man’s story. She marveled at how easily he moved from man to man, group to group. Men older than him seeking advice, or showing him how to do something. Yet, she knew that they would react instantly if and when he changed from father figure and friend to commander. Many men worked hard to achieve what came naturally to Andreas. His way of making others feel at ease, while at the same time, masking his own feelings of doubt or unease. He would often make jokes at his own expense and was not afraid to ask for advice or instruction on a subject he was unsure of, or knew little about.

    She shared her husband’s distrust of religion, but she thanked God every day for arranging circumstances in their lives so that they would meet. She pulled Andreas down beside her, kissed him deeply, and hugged him close. Her friend, lover, and soul mate.

    Why doesn’t this trooper take off his breaches and make his lady happy? she said, just loud enough for the nearest men to hear.

    Oh, I wouldn’t want my lady to sunburn her thighs, Andreas replied.

    More like you don’t want to sunburn your bony butt, said the nearest trooper as the whole group burst out in laughter.

    Ach, no respect, spluttered Andreas through his own howls of laughter.

    A shrill blast from a train whistle put an end to the laughter, as everyone turned to look at the steaming monster come rattling down the track. Slowing, bell clanging and clouds of steam hissing around the drive pistons as it pulled to a stop at the train platform. This train was made up of six passenger coaches and a baggage car, not the normal mixed freight and passenger configuration. As soon as the train stopped, passengers began exiting, some excitedly, some pensively looking about at their surroundings. Soon the platform was filled with men and women dressed in the German fashion and the sound of German voices filled the air. Men began to congregate at the now-open baggage car, passing down and stacking suitcases and trunks, while women controlled excited children.

    Best go back to camp and bring up two more carts, Andreas said to the man who had made the joke earlier. We weren’t expecting this many people today.

    As the man nodded, he and another trooper jogged back to the camp, Andreas felt a hand thump on his back.

    Graf Bekenbaum, so glad to see you again, said a husky male voice.

    Rudy! exclaimed Andreas, turning around and hugging the older man. I’m so glad you’re here.

    Andreas was shoved aside and watched as Elizabeth warmly hugged the now embarrassed man, while a thirtyish, blonde woman stood uncertainly by his side.

    And who is this lovely vision, Rudy? asked Andreas.

    Oh, I forget my manners, a deep red Rudy said. Graf and Gräfin Bekenbaum, I would like to present my wife, Greta. Greta, Graf and Gräfin Bekenbaum.

    Andreas took the hand of the now curtsying woman and raised her up.

    A pleasure Baroness von Hoaedle, we were beginning to wonder if Rudy didn’t like girls, he said with a smile.

    Andreas! Elizabeth said, smacking him on the arm with her fist. Don’t be so rude. I am Elizabeth, she said, holding out her hand to the woman. My husband can be such a boor sometimes. It is good to see that our friend Rudy has finally chosen to settle down.

    I have heard so much about the both of you, I am so glad to finally meet you, Greta said. As for finally getting married to this awkward boy, I told him if he didn’t marry me this time before he ran away again, I would follow him and use a shotgun on him when I found him.

    Andreas looked over at Rudy who was looking down at the platform, kicking at imaginary stones on it.

    Look at this, Andreas said, who would have thought the brave confident hero, brought down by a little blonde.

    As a tiny smile crossed Rudy’s face, a new friendship was born.

    Liz, why don’t you and Greta gather up all the women and children and head up to camp, while Rudy and I organize all the transport here, Andreas said.

    Elizabeth gave an exaggerated curtsy and mockingly said, Yes, my lord, whatever you say, my lord, don’t forget about the breaches, my lord. She whispered something into Greta’s ear and they both laughed as they walked arm-in-arm down the platform, gathering their flock around them.

    Women, said Andreas.

    Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em, finished Rudy.

    Two more trains, an hour apart, brought the remainder of the German contingent before the regularly scheduled train arrived. This was the train Andreas had been expecting and carried Ivan, Katia, and their group. It was well after dark before Elizabeth, who had been visiting with her sister and catching up, walked into the tent and found an exhausted Andreas passed out facedown on their cot.

    By the end of the week, with one or two trains per day, all of the Bears and Eagles had arrived and the tents had become a small town. The sounds of hammering and sawing reverberated around the camp, as carts were being built and horseshoes were fashioned. Children running and playing were everywhere. Friday saw the American cavalry practicing their formations and Andreas realized his lack of doing the same. Most of the Eagles had brought their own mounts from Russia, but the lack of exercise and the new mounts they had purchased would mean they may have some problems if they ever had to do any military maneuvers. Andreas called a senior officers meeting for Saturday morning.

    At the meeting, it was decided to start daily training, each company training separately, with a combined formation to be held the following Sunday. Johann would train the Germans with their newly acquired Winchesters and a competition between each company’s best riflemen would be held before the final mounted parade.

    A rider sent by Patrick had arrived late Friday night, telling them the herd of cattle from Texas was two days out. Departure from Fort Laramie would be the Monday morning after the competition. That would give a week for training. As they had not heard from the buffalo hunters, negotiations or problems with the native tribes would have to be dealt with as they occurred.

    What about Marie and Peter? asked Johann.

    This had been troubling Andreas as well, but if they hoped to reach their final destination before winter, they had to leave now.

    If they are not here by the time we leave, they will have to catch up later, Andreas responded.

    Chapter Two

    The cattle arrived Saturday evening. The drovers, who called themselves cowboys, were more or less exactly that. Most of them were between sixteen and eighteen years old, with a few in their early twenties. They wore broad-brimmed hats, pants made of heavy canvas with leather chaps over top. All had revolvers strapped around their waists, and one of the older ones had his holster strapped low on his right leg. The same man had a thin mustache and held an air of toughness. All of them had the look of wildness and a devil-may-care attitude. The ones that were not needed to care for the cattle dispersed to the drinking establishments of the town and soon were playing a game called poker and having a noisy good time.

    Andreas sent a messenger to Patrick wanting a meeting with him the next morning and a meeting with his crew of cowboys right after. He and Elizabeth then walked over to a new camp that had sprung up on the other side of the river. There were twenty large, four-wheeled wagons drawn by oxen, mules, or horses. They had chickens and pigs, milk cows, and sheep with them. All had families, some large. All of them were heading the same direction as Andreas’s group, hoping to start some farms or ranches in the vicinity of a series of falls south of the Canadian border. The group was all Americans, from a state called Georgia, and let it be known they thought themselves superior to all foreigners and would not think of joining Andreas’s much larger group. When Andreas warned them of the possibility of native raids, he was told that one white man was worth five red men and to mind his own business.

    As they walked back across the bridge to their side of the river, a perplexed Elizabeth asked Andreas, I don’t understand their attitude, why do they act like that?

    I have seen this before, he said. They are poor and on the bottom end of society. Anyone who they think is below them, they lord it over. We are foreigners, so beneath them in their minds. We offered to help, they refused, and that’s the end of it.

    Looks like more trouble, he said, nodding his head to a group of five drunken cowboys standing at the edge of the bridge, clearly intending on blocking them from leaving the bridge. Andreas dropped his right hand and made sure the whip he always had on his belt was loose and left his hand on its handle as they reached the small gang.

    Well, looky here at the cute filly with the scrawny farmer boy, said a drunk boy, who looked to be no more than sixteen. Wouldn’t you rather be with a real man? He looked around at his fellows for support.

    Andreas said nothing. Keeping his face neutral he looked each of the cowboys in the eye, gauging their moods. The tough-looking customer with the tied-down pistol kept his gaze the longest, both men sizing each other up. Andreas calmly picked a cigar out of his pocket, bit the end off, and taking a match, lit it with his left hand, all the while watching the tough customer.

    She’s way too much woman for you, the tough guy said. Besides, you’re so drunk you’d pass out before you got your pants off. Why don’t we all head over to camp and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.

    The other three gathered up the mouthy one and herded him away making jokes at his expense while they did so.

    Sorry about that, ma’am, mister. The boy can’t hold his booze; he’s a good kid and will feel horrible about this when he sobers up, the tough guy said and, with a tip of his hat, he followed his comrades.

    That worked out well, Andreas said as he took Elizabeth’s arm and they continued their walk back to camp. Explaining to Colonel Custer why my wife keeps shooting people would have been boring.

    Speaking of shooting, Andy, are you entering the competition? she asked.

    No, I think not. It’s for the men. I think a demonstration like you gave us before we went to Afghanistan is more in order. Can you and your girls be ready?

    Oh, yes! she exclaimed. We would enjoy that. Some of the husbands need reminding what we can do. There are a hundred of us now.

    A whole company? Andreas asked.  You have been a busy girl. I should have a talk with your husband, he should be keeping you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

    Why, good sir. I’ll have you know, my husband knows who wears the pants in our family, she joked.

    The pants definitely enhance his wife’s shapely rear end, he said, which rewarded him with a punch on the arm.

    Just after dawn, Andreas walked over to the cowboys’ camp where he found Patrick standing by the supply wagon they had used, which had a fire going and a man cooking breakfast beside it.

    Morning, my lord, he said, saluting. Coffee?

    We are not in the army anymore, Patrick, Andreas said, returning the salute. How was the trip?

    Not bad considering. We lost a few cows and a couple of the lads along the way, but considering the age of the boys and the length of the trip, it was really nothing. These are good kids. I heard about last night—that was not normal for these boys. I will personally take the lad and apologize as soon as I find out who the couple were.

    Andreas just nodded his head, then asked if any of the cowboys had considered joining them on their quest.

    I think all of them will, Patrick said. Texas is a hard land, hot and dry, where these young fellows are from. All of the good land is already taken. Most of them are here for the adventure, but I think more than a few of them will stay when we get there. There also seems to be a lot of girls their age with the German group, that’s always a prime motivator with lads their age.

    Ok, said Andreas, a couple of things, then I want to meet them all. Will they be able to keep up? We will be going at campaign speed. The cattle will have plenty of time to recuperate once we get there.

    Yeah, these kids are like your people. They have been riding their whole lives; as long as you have enough remounts and maybe a little help, we should be alright. Can we get four of your carts? This wagon will not be able to keep up on the roads, or lack thereof, replied Patrick.

    I was going to suggest that, replied Andreas. Your saddles, I noticed they have a device on the front. Can you tell me about that?

    It’s called a horn. We use stiff ropes called lariats, they make a loop in the end, toss it around a cow’s hind legs or head. Then they pass a couple of wraps around the horn and let the horse stop the cow, answered Patrick.

    Ah, said Andreas, "much the same way we

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