The Sheriffs Sister: Bad Blood

By Chris G. Derrick

“When he was but a few paces away Jack Kildeer realised he was approaching and quickly grabbed for his pistol.
Jake reached him first, and took hold of his arm so he couldn’t pull the pistol out from his holster any further. Using his other hand he grabbed the man’s hair and swiftly brought his face down hard against the solid, heavy, wooden bar.
Jake let him go, and Jack Kildeer stood up – blood streaming from his nose and running thickly down the front of his shirt.”

Jake Base – a Texas town sheriff, but one with a difference.
Still maintaining his close ties with the Cheyenne family who adopted him as a child, he’s now married to the beautiful Maria Sanchez.
Life is financially secure and extremely enjoyable, living comfortably on the King Spread ranch.
In life, nothing ever remains the same for long.
The previous sheriff, Nick Salmonist, proved himself to be a psychotic cattle thief a short time before Jake sent him on his final journey.
Now though the man’s sister, Anna Constance, is journeying down from Ohio with her men folk. What’s her purpose?
Simply to extract her own form of vengeance on anyone, anything, with a hand in her brother’s demise.
Two members of the earlier sheriff’s cattle rustling gang break out of San Antonio prison.
Do they plan to flee Texas and disappear altogether, or ride back towards Laredo in order to even up some old scores?
As if this trouble is not enough to be getting on with.
A working band of scalp hunters are also intent on carrying on their awful business around the town.
Who will get their retribution in first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris G. Derrick
• Release date: Jun 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310993657

Chris G. Derrick

Chris G Derrick was born and grew up in a small town situated between the cities of Bath and Bristol in the south west of the UK. Born in 1957 his favourite genre of film has always been the Western. A birthday treat to watch The Magnificent Seven with some young friends when he was around six years of age no doubt had a hand in developing his life long appreciation of the Old West. After leaving school Chris started his working life as an accountant, with a short spell in HM Royal Marines in his early twenties. From the 1980’s onwards he earned a living as an IT professional up until the end of March 2013. Chris’s favourite part of the world happened to be the South Western states of the USA – Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas and Utah. He'd always enjoyed writing, creating a picture with words, and still maintained his affection for a good Western and the cowboy way of life. With this in mind Chris decided he'd combine these three things - and write a Western himself set in those states of the USA. The Tainted Dollar was written with a keen eye on western history, and there are plans for other books to follow. Each one will retain Jake Base - if not as the main then certainly as a central character within each story.

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The Sheriffs Sister – Bad Blood

By Chris G. Derrick

Copyright 2015 Chris G. Derrick

Smashwords Edition

I’d like to dedicate this book to my kind and loving parents Eileen and Gordon Derrick (1924 – 2012).

Throughout my life they’ve always been there, continually supporting me through thick and thin. My mother continues to do so even today.

They were equally responsible way back for instilling in me that very first love and appreciation of westerns, and stories relating to the Old West.

The second Jake Base novel.

Chapter 1. April 1858.

A small holding on the outskirts of Cincinnati, Ohio.

The woman stood and watched, without too much interest, as her son threw what was left of the rattler to the pigs. After less than a minute of watching the noisy animals clamber one over the other, in their urgency to get to the raw meat, he became bored enough to return to what remained of the snake. This wasn’t much. Only the six feet long skin which he’d stretched out earlier and nailed onto the outside of the barn door, to dry in the heat of the early morning sun. It was going to be another hot one again, so it would be sufficiently dry in an hour or so and he could take it down again.

This one’s the biggest I’ve managed to find so far this year, ma, mused the young man.

They’re disgusting, those damn snakes. If I’d gotten my way every single one of ‘em would end up like this one - nailed onto the door. I think our pigs would take real kindly to it as well. They must be one of the few livin’ creatures which appreciate ‘em. She glanced across to the pigs, who were now aimlessly rooting around in the mud of their pen. The snake was no longer even a memory.

I milked the rattlers teeth before I killed it, like you told me. I put the liquid in the glass bottle with the rest of what we’ve collected. There’s a fair amount in there now.

Well done son. After all the years of cussing those unholy creatures we’ve finally found a use before we kill ‘em.

Anna Constance was a short well built woman. Upon meeting her for the first time most people would imagine she’d make any farmer an ideal wife. The woman possessed a certain homely, motherly, look about her physical frame. Unfortunately it would only go to show how wrong first impressions can often be. It needed to be said - she’d married John Constance pretty much because there was no other option open to her at the time. He wouldn’t have been anything like her first choice, if she’d been in a position to choose. Their son, Jeff, was born only five months after his parents wedding day. When the youngster first came into the world there was no more than sixteen years difference in the ages of mother and son.

John Constance finally inherited the ranch from his mother who’d moved for good up to Chicago to live with her widowed sister. His father died while ploughing the field closest to the back of the farm house - several years before she’d upped and left for the last time. The farm gradually wore her down and finally it spat her out. As working the land did to so many others they knew. The hard farming life of being outside in all winds and weathers, always for little financial reward, left her looking like a woman twenty years older than her true age by the time she finally took her leave. His mother had always described the money they’d manage to earn as ‘a penny over a beggar’. The last words she spoke to her son, as she climbed on board the train, were she’d never return again ‘not until hell freezes over’ - as she so elegantly phrased it.

At least we’re in no doubt we won’t be seeing her here again, was all his wife could say about it.

There was never a great deal in the way of love between John and Anna. They were man and wife with the necessary piece of paper to prove it – which was pretty much as far as their relationship went. The words ‘man and wife’ alone covered it – and only those few words. There was absolutely no emotional connection between the two of them – if you omit the actual night the youngster was created. It was like they’d used up their life’s long allocation of emotional togetherness on their first ever date. She’d always blamed her husband for Jeff – as they’d named the infant - coming along, and used every opportunity she could to let him know exactly how bitter she felt.

The news arrived with them at the beginning of August less than two years earlier that her brother had been killed in south Texas somewhere. Since then Anna became progressively less interested in helping out around the farm. Before she’d received the message John would’ve never considered it possible she could actually be less involved in the farm’s day to day running. Somehow though Anna managed it well enough, and proved him wrong at the same time.

Since the fateful day, slowly, bit by bit over the last year or so, she’d managed to even turn her husband’s heart against the little farm. The small holding was never much to shout about. John’s paternal grand father was the first member of the Constance family to set up on this section of land. When the farmer, who owned the larger spread which adjoined theirs, made John an offer to buy them out Anna succeeded in persuading her husband to accept. What she did to ensure the deal was both signed and sealed meant she was pregnant once again. It was a situation which she detested as much now as the first time it happened. Probably even more if the truth was known. This time she knew only too well what lay ahead after eight months or so. A young one who would need nursing hour after hour, day after day - and more sleepless nights again. Desperate situations required desperate remedies though. The lady was certainly keen to put many miles between their small family and this God forsaken farm. Once or twice she wondered if what she’d now burdened herself with was actually a worthwhile price to pay in order to get her own way. Her husband of course was over the moon they were having another child. He appeared to be sufficiently enthusiastic for the pair of them.

John came up and stood next to his wife, and put his hand gently on the bulge of her tummy which was only now beginning to show. Or at least the additional swell which was down to the baby growing inside her was only now beginning to become visible.

Anna looked up at him. She was certainly not about to get all affected and weepy about the young life growing inside of her.

So that’s it then. Finally this family has managed to come to a decision. It certainly took long enough. I was beginning to think I was expecting the impossible to happen. Next weekend we leave this damn farm for good and start moving south, down to Texas. We can always decide what our first moves are gonna be when we arrive while we’re on the road. I’ve been looking forward to this day ever since we first heard about what happened to Nicholas.

Maybe it’ll be a new start for the four of us, murmured her husband, rubbing her tummy again.

He didn’t see the look Anna gave him. If he’d spotted it he might have realised playing happy families wasn’t a thing which rated particularly highly in this ladies mind.

Revenge was, though. Oh yes. There was the driving force which was at the forefront of every word she’d uttered, every idea she’d had, and every deed she’d undertaken since the sad news first arrived. Someone would pay dearly for what happened to her brother – and she was exactly the right person to ensure it played out in such a manner.

I’ve made some inquiries. We’ve well over a thousand mile trip ahead of us, so it’ll take us possibly a couple of months to get there. We should be there before this appears, she observed, nodding down towards the swell in her belly.

I’m going inside to finish packing the last few bits and pieces. The last thing I want is our start being delayed because of me not being totally prepared.

In the room John and Anna shared together she put one of her valise bags on their bed, and opened it. Inside it she carefully placed the bottle Jeff had been studiously adding to each time he was fortunate enough to catch a rattler. There was a considerable amount of time – as well as risk - invested in gathering this precious, at least to her, liquid. She wasn’t about to risk leaving it behind when they finally managed to ride away from this terrible place.

From the top drawer of the old wooden cabinet by the side of the bed she removed a pile of papers – on the top was a copy of their marriage certificate.

As she went to close the valise she happened to glance at her maiden name. Anna reflected again about her brother, and anticipated the feeling of extreme pleasure which avenging his cold blooded murder was going to bring.

Anna’s maiden name was Salmonist, and she was the only sibling of the Laredo Sheriff, Nick Salmonist, who’d succumbed to the gun of the Tucson US marshal, Jake Base. By the time she’d gotten down to Laredo her brother had been in the ground for a while, but she’d at least been able to arrange for a head stone to be erected at his grave. All paid for with her husband’s hard earned money from the family farm, of course.

There were enough people in the Texas town all eager to tell her everything they knew about the crimes her brother was supposed to have committed. No doubt many of them added in a few little snippets which they’d invented themselves on the spur of the moment. One old lady even told her the reason for her brothers actions could only be because he was the spawn of Lucifer himself. She even went on to say she’d obtained proof this was the cold reality behind his awful deeds. To Anna her brother’s death was all due to their brutal upbringing – there was no other reasonable explanation. The responsibility for all of his bad actions didn’t lie with her brother at all. It was simply the way their pa’s mistreatment of both of them manifested itself in him. Anna herself went through many years experiencing what she always looked upon as ‘dark thoughts’ which crept into the far reaches of her mind on occasion. The frequency and the darkness of these ideas had been gradually increasing for her over the past two or three years. As with Nick these notions weren’t her fault. For her also it was a curse from their father - left with the two siblings to carry around in their heads each day.

The fact Nick’s brutality exceeded by a full country mile any of the violence displayed to them when they were children was so easily dismissed by Anna. She was never going to be particularly interested in digging too deep for any real answers as to why they were both severely emotionally damaged. With her life was ever only black or white. There were never any shades of grey or off white. Her brother had been murdered. Someone needed to ‘pay the piper’ because of it. It was up to her to see the payment for his life was made in full.

There was one thing Anna remembered from all the snippets she’d been told while in Laredo. It was apparently a big blessing she hadn’t seen her brother before they’d buried him. From what she’d been told the heavy bullet from the marshal’s pistol took the top clean off his head. It seems they never did find all the fragments. In case any family members wanted to view the body the undertaker did the best job he could in patching up the hole - with a few pieces of chicken wire and some old plaster of Paris he happened to have lying around. With the best will in the world some happenings can never be disguised. As a consequence Nick Salmonist was destined to enter the spirit world not looking exactly as he did while walking around in this one.

Before she headed back home to Ohio Anna made sure she took a real good look at the man responsible for her visit to Laredo. She needed to be able to carry a picture of him in her mind. Then she’d have an image which she could direct all her hate towards over the following weeks and months - until the eventual day of reckoning arrived. The woman did precisely what she’d planned. Each hour of each day for the past twenty or so months, give or take. The hatred grew, big and black inside of her. Every day it was fed a little more and it grew larger and more evil – like a slow growing but virulent cancer.

To Anna the man she was staring at across the street to all intents and purposes looked like an Indian. Tall and slim with his long raven black hair tied at the back of his neck with a strip of leather. There was no evidence of a cowboy hat either. He was wearing what looked to be an animal skin jacket, which appeared to have unusual symbols emblazoned on both sleeves. The man was also carrying a lot of hardware, two long knives in sheaths on his belt and a couple of Colt Navy pistols. The pistol on his left hip was being carried in its holster the opposite way to what anyone would have been expected, so it was ready to be drawn using his right hand - rather than his left.

She was not interested in finding out why Jake Base looked and dressed the way he did. From the first moment she found out about her sibling’s death, revenge was the one thing in life which gave her the reason to keep on breathing. Anna’s husband, her son, and the farm. None of it meant a great deal to her before the news arrived – and now they all counted for absolutely nothing. What leaving the only home they’d known as a family together would mean to either of her men folk didn’t concern Anna. It was only getting down to Texas which mattered.

Finally the day she’d been waiting for arrived - the day of their leaving. For months now Anna wanted only to walk out of the house, climb up on the farms old wagon, and leave their home for the last time. She wasn’t the sort of woman to take one last poignant look behind as they pulled over the top of the hill. It was only the future which held any interest. There was nothing at all to keep her, emotionally or physically, in the place they’d so recently left behind.

Fifteen hundred miles, was the distance they needed to travel – or so she could best estimate. Maybe two months and they’d be there. Then it could all begin – the plotting and ultimately the sweet vengeance. After months and months of waiting for this particular day – eventually it was here. Death, pain and destruction were going to be travelling in the wagon - disguised as a short, stocky, evil hearted woman from Ohio.

John, turn this wagon around. I wanna go back to the farm.

Whoaaa......, a greatly surprised John Constance pulled the two horses to a halt. Bitter experience served to teach him long ago the way to get through a day without too many confrontations with his wife was to let a lot of what she said simply slide off. It was a bit like the old saying of water running from a ducks back – which conjured up a picture which never ceased to make him smile. Let it slide off maybe – but do whatever she requested all the same. It was simply the way life was with Anna.

I assumed the farm would be the last place you wanted to see again after all your bad comments over the years. You couldn’t wait to leave it behind. I remember you sayin’ those exact words.

Yeah, and it was serious words. I don’t want to go back because I’m gettin’ all dewy eyed about it.

So why then? Did you forget to pack something? I took a good look around before we left and it all seemed empty enough to me.

No, I’ve packed all we need to take along.

Perplexed by the reason for the sudden change of heart John never the less turned the horses around and headed back the way they’d come.

We’ve certainly far enough to travel as it is – without re-tracing our steps too often. John surprised even himself. He was amazed he’d been brave enough to utter such a criticism of his wife’s idea.

We going back home again? asked Jeff from the back of the wagon. I was thinkin’ we’d left there for good.

Don’t ask son. Believe me, so did I. Your ma’s wanting to go and get somethin.

I don’t want to go back to get anything. I want to return there only to make sure we leave nothin’ behind.

John looked at his wife, again confused. What d’you mean by that Anna?

It means you need to burn the dreadful place to the ground. Mr Hardcastle doesn’t want the buildings – only the land. Burnt buildings or not the land will still be there for him.

John shook his head in disbelief, but said nothing and kept the horses moving.

I want the closure which comes from seeing this hell hole reduced to a pile of ashes.

An hour later the Constance family were back again at the place where they’d turned the wagon around. Behind them now several columns of flame and grey smoke reached up, towards the blue sky over their heads.

Anna sat up on the seat at the front of the wagon. Now with a contented look over her face. There would be no going back for this family, and to her it was important to be able to ride away having that knowledge. For several weeks now the lady kept getting a particular nagging premonition. When Mr Hardcastle discovered how awful the land was he’d purchased he’d be looking to sell it on again. Anna imagined her husband might be foolish enough to be tempted into buying it back if ever he heard of it. Now there was nothing for John to purchase – if it should ever work out in such a way. He certainly wouldn’t want to rebuild what was now lying as a pile of ash. The only thing which remained was the hard, barren, land itself, no buildings - and of course the ever present population of rattlesnakes. They’d always seemed to like it well enough. They were welcome to have it all now – with her blessing.

For this little family, from this moment on, it was all about Texas. Goodbye Ohio. Howdy Texas.

Late May 1858. Laredo Texas.

It was a little after seven. The early morning air still hadn’t lost its beautiful clean freshness which always made it Jakes favourite time of day.

He was sitting in his much-loved chair on the veranda - the covered walkway which ran the entire length of the front of the main house. On the table next to his right hand there was still a little left of the morning’s first coffee in his cup. His attention though was firmly focused on watching Hector, the ranch’s barn boss. He was working hard to break in a particularly frisky unbranded mare which one of the cowboys brought in a few days earlier.

No matter what move the barn boss attempted the horse always seemed to be there first – all the while correctly anticipating what was going to be the next play. The way Hector was approaching the task was by the book, it was simply this horse appeared to be too smart and too quick for the barn boss.

Hey Hector. This horse is going to be breaking you soon. The next thing you know you’ll be wearin’ the saddle, Jake laughed. You want me to show you what a Cheyenne would do at a time like this?

Yes, senor. Please do. If it’s any easier than this I’d like to know.

In the ten years Jake lived with the Cheyenne, even becoming accepted as a Dog Soldier, he’d picked up many of the ways of the Indian. A lot of their ideas, such as the tricks used for breaking stubborn horses, had been tried, tested and perfected over a hundred or more years. The white man’s knowledge of such skills were all fairly new in comparison.

Jake remembered his Cheyenne father telling him the basis of training any horse was to first earn its trust. This involved spending lots of time with the animal, talking to it and fussing over it. All horses are naturally inquisitive creatures. Eventually each one of them will become interested in the man who’s spending periods in their corral, and giving them plenty of attention while he’s there. A horse which maintained true faith in its owner was of more use to the Indian than one which had been intentionally ‘broken in spirit’ - so it would no longer attempt to throw its rider at every opportunity.

Hector removed his rope from the horse’s head and went across and sat on the top bar of the corral fence, and Jake went in with the young mare.

An hour or so later and the horse was noticeably calmer, and was at least approaching Jake – while still not allowing Jake to actually touch her.

It was definitely progress.

I’ll try and get back and spend another hour or so in with her later today. If I can’t make it, then definitely tomorrow morning Hector. I’m hoping another two or three hours with her and maybe we can at least get a blanket on her back - even if she’s still not up to carryin’ a saddle.

Okay Senor Jake. I like your way better than mine. My way means a lot of hard work and bruises. It doesn’t seem to be workin’ too well either.

Jake climbed over the corral fence, and with a wave of his hand began to walk back towards the house.

Don’t feel bad Hector. There’s always one thing which seems to beat us in life – no matter how accomplished we are with everything else we turn our hands to. Your nemesis is the horse standin’ in there I believe. Anyway, I need to get to work, or else Frank will be thinking I’ve resigned from my job and not told him. I’ll see you later.

Okay senor. I’m wishing you a good and peaceful day.

Haha, thanks Hector. In my job, though, you don’t want each day to be quiet. Else soon the town council will be wonderin’ if they actually need to be payin’ a sheriff and deputies for sittin’ around the place.

Today’s life had changed beyond all recognition for Jake Base since the early days of July 1856 when he first rode into Laredo on his small Cheyenne pony. Back then he’d been looking for two brothers who were wanted in Tucson for shooting a gambler. While the man was still warm they robbed him of the money which he’d won from them in the saloon. As well as everything else he happened to have on him which they considered worth taking.

Shortly after arriving in town he’d made the acquaintance of the Sanchez family – Manuel, the son, was the first. It’d been necessary back then for Jake to use a little force to resolve a situation when Manuel allowed the whiskey he’d been drinking to get the better of both his judgement and his social graces.

Shortly afterwards Jake contrived to meet Maria, Manual’s sister. Each man he’d spoken to in Laredo since his arrival told him it was a life experience which he needed to have, due to the ladies extraordinary beauty. As well as being the most exquisite, perfect, example of a woman he’d ever gazed upon in his life she was also Manuel’s half sister. While they shared the same father, Lupe, Maria’s mother was a full blooded Mescalero Apache. Her father had taken her mother as his wife – all legal and above board. Theirs was no sordid relationship carried out in the evening shadows of the desert, or in the shade of an adobe wall somewhere. The way the Apache were both feared and hated in southern Texas at the time taking one of theirs as a bride was a bold decision for any man to make. A man as successful and wealthy as Lupe Sanchez wasn’t expected to look towards the native people for a wife. Certainly it should be more towards the daughter of a well to do family from Mexico City. Eyebrows would most certainly have been raised in many supposedly well to do households, with a lot of words being gossiped behind the perceived safety of raised hands.

Jake’s ten year spell with the Cheyenne immediately gave the two young people something very much in common. As far as Maria was concerned Jake was the first man she’d ever felt even the slightest physical attraction towards. The fact he was the only white man she’d ever met who possessed both a first hand understanding and a deep knowledge of the Indians way of life only added to her level of interest in the US marshal. Although there were certain differences between the two groups, they both maintained the great love and respect of nature which was ingrained in the life and beliefs of each native tribe.

Their relationship hadn’t been all plain sailing at the beginning. Due to circumstances Jake felt it necessary to refuse the first dinner invitation he’d been offered. Concentrating on the reasons which brought him to Laredo in the first place was becoming increasingly difficult when his plans were continually being railroaded by ideas involving Maria Sanchez.

Before he’d left to resolve the situation with the Hughes brothers he’d given Maria the Cheyenne necklace he’d worn every single day since he could remember.

Even now Maria still proudly wore the same necklace. It hadn’t left her neck since the first day in the corral when Jake slipped it over the top of her hair - except now the couple were happily married. Their marriage ceremony happened in the September of the previous year. Jake often wondered if it was the large fairly expensive wedding ring on her finger or the Cheyenne necklace – which was worth nothing in terms of hard cash – which his dear wife prized the most highly. He’d never gotten round to asking her the question – but he suspected it would be the necklace which she prized most.

While sorting out the problem of the Hughes boys it meant Jake also shot and killed the Laredo town sheriff. The law man turned out to be not only a cold blooded killer but he was also masterminding a cattle rustling gang, stealing beeves from the Sanchez family amongst others. In killing the sheriff Jake also saved the life of Lupe Sanchez. Something which undoubtedly helped his standing within the family themselves – and after all why shouldn’t it? If it hadn’t been for his snake like reflexes and pin point shooting skills then the Sanchez dynasty would have lost its elder statesman on the wooden porch of the little Laredo house.

Jake took the Hughes boys back to Tucson to stand trial for their crimes. While there he also resigned his position of US marshal. He returned then to Laredo and took over the still vacant job of town sheriff. Neither of the deputies who’d been running the show in the short term wanted to take on the top job full time, so they were both happy for Jake to assume the role. Having a permanent job in Laredo allowed Jake to continue seeing Maria, of course. The friendship developed rather quickly between the two of them on his return – and Lupe, Maria’s father, was more than happy with the match. Jake began to look on Lupe as another father figure, even before his relationship with Maria began to get truly serious. This was somewhat at odds with what he’d heard about the Mexican rancher when he first arrived in town. From what he’d been told then the man was a rich but crazy whip-wielding bully who enjoyed inflicting and viewing other people’s pain. As is often the way in life, situations and circumstances weren’t as others perceived them to be at all. Lupe was the complete opposite from the image he was only to happy to portray to the public. After all, being hated and feared in equal measure helped enormously in keeping the ranch safe and secure. Jake was now in the enviable situation of having three men he happily referred to as ‘father’. There was his birth father who was killed by the Cheyenne when Jake was twelve years of age, then his Cheyenne father who’d adopted Jake as his own son, and now Lupe.

Manuel and Jake, after getting off to a bad start on the first evening in the Red Eye saloon, were now like a couple of best friends who’d known one another for years. Manuel helped Jake with bringing in the two brothers - at the same time putting a stop to the antics of the sheriff and his gang of cattle rustlers.

Jake was still the Laredo town sheriff, but now lived out on the King Spread ranch with his new wife and her family.

A few months after they were married Jake, Maria and Manuel went north up to the Dakota Territories to visit Jake’s Cheyenne family. He’d made a pledge the morning he left his Indian family to continue to visit from time to time. This was only the second time he’d returned to see them since then. To journey there again with his new wife was something he felt was only right. After all, there were no longer any white skinned parents to maintain any interest he what he did. The Cheyenne people were both his parents and his only family. It was important to Jake to introduce his old family to his new one. Two Dog Soldier warriors, his Cheyenne parents other sons who were both older than Jake became his blood brothers during his time with them. While Manuel didn’t fully understand the implications of this symbolic act Maria was fully aware of what this meant to Jake and to the Cheyenne warriors who were involved. The Apache and the Cheyenne shared the same understanding of the blood exchanging ceremony.

The Cheyenne were pleased beyond words their white brother eventually took it upon himself to marry a native girl. Even if she was only part Indian - not a true blood - and a Mescalero Apache as well. After all there were plenty of pretty and eligible young women in their own village they teased Jake. He should have returned earlier and chosen one of their squaws to be his wife. Although it was all spoken with humour, with both smiling faces and bright happy eyes, Jake felt there was a hint of disappointment in their words. He imagined it to be especially true when the words came from the mouth of his Cheyenne mother.

The three of them made the trip up north, but four of them eventually made the return jaunt south back to Texas.

The addition to their party was not human, in as much as it used only two legs, although there’d been occasions in the past where Jake had wondered about it, but a wolf.

Three years before he left the Cheyenne, to begin life again as a white man, his Indian father found an orphaned wolf pup lying on the plains while out hunting. The young one’s mother was lying dead next to it with a bad wound in her side, evidently the reason for her untimely demise.

As the native people always respected the wolf there was no possibility the young one was simply going to be left behind. It would have meant certain death for the pup - he was so young his eyes weren’t yet open. Taking him back to the Cheyenne village would at least give him a chance of life, and all living beings deserved their one opportunity.

Jake was given the pup and told the animal was now his responsibility. Whether it lived or died was down solely to his efforts and the care he was able to provide. In a couple of days when the pup opened its eyes for the first time the initial thing it saw in life was Jakes face. From then on he was Jake’s constant companion, going all over with him - and with Jake undertaking all the feeding and training duties for the youngster. A strong bond of reliance and affection soon built up between both human and animal.

When Jake was out hunting for food or with a raiding party the wolf would go along with him, being carried in a sling on his back when the distances to be covered were great. Consequently the two became totally inseparable. When Jake went to discuss the plans for the warrior’s next raid against their enemies, Lobo would be sat quietly at his feet. It was almost like he understood what was being thrashed out.

The fact the wolf retained an animal’s instinct for avoiding trouble saved the Cheyenne warriors from surprise attacks by their enemies on more than one occasion. Using his hunting instincts he’d also helped them find the bison herds which the Cheyenne relied upon heavily for the multitude of goods they needed to survive. While Lobo seemed to enjoy the attention he received from the other members of the tribe he was always quick to let a person know if they began to get too familiar with him.

The wolf was now nine years of age, and still apparently happy to live with Jake’s Cheyenne parents. Sometimes he would wander off for a few days, but he always returned.

On Jakes previous visit to the village the wolf instantly remembered him. Now several more years had passed by. When they first approached