The new arrivals all put their horses to graze with the militia’s herd. The guards would watch the newcomers’ mounts along with the expedition’s horses and mules and the animals from the wagon trains.
That evening, the packers and guest prospectors shared a campfire and a meal. Then the men turned to drink. Will had the early watch. When he returned, he sat near the fire whittling a whistle while he listened to Joel and the prospectors talk.
“Where you come from?” Joel asked a miner named Burton.
“We been workin’ the Owyhee mines,” Burton replied. “Now we’re headin’ back to the Malheur River. But we got lost, till your scouts found us. They said we could follow you as far as Surprise Valley. From there, we can find the Malheur.”
Joel told the miners about his experiences in the Rogue River Valley. He’d never prospected along the Malheur, and after quizzing the prospectors about their finds, he commented, “Think I’ll stay south on the Rogue and Umpqua. Country’s purtier, and the yield is better.”
“Maybe so,” one of the Malheur miners acknowledged. “But the Malheur ain’t got the winter snows you do.”
The men argued good-naturedly for a while, then one miner interjected, “Did you see them Indian ponies the Snakes rode into camp? I’d like me a horse like them. Sturdy little mounts. Might just help myself to one.”
“That don’t sound very smart,” Burton said. “I ain’t got no desire to rile up the Indians in these parts.”
The banter turned to how easy it would be to steal the Snakes’ horses. Will listened with some alarm—Shanty’s dam had been an Indian pony, and Shanty had spots on his coat like the Snake tribesmen’s horses. But the men’s talk died down as they got in their bedrolls.
Will turned in also, and soon was asleep.
Early the next morning, Will was awakened by a shout. “Burton’s dead. Murdered.”
“Burton?” Will asked Joel. “Isn’t he the man we talked to last night?”
“Yep. One of them prospectors,” Joel replied. “Seemed a pleasant enough fellow. Don’t know why anyone would kill him.”
The three Snake Indians and about half of the white prospectors were no longer in camp. One of the remaining prospectors said, “Them Indians killed Burton. Musta been them.” Drew ordered a cavalry squad to ride out and investigate, and he told the rest of the expeditionary force to remain in camp.
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere today,” Joel predicted. “Not till Drew sorts this all out.”
When they gathered at the quartermaster’s wagon for breakfast, Will and the other packers learned several horses had been stolen. “All the Indian ponies are gone,” Sergeant Crockett reported. “Some of our horses, too. Snakes probably took ’em along with their own mounts when they left camp.”
“Which of our horses were taken?” Will asked.
The quartermaster squinted at him. “Don’t you ride that Indian mixed-breed horse?”
“Yes, sir,” Will said, nodding.
“That’s one of the horses what’s missin’.”
Will ran to the herd and searched for Shanty. The gelding was gone. “Where’d the thieves take the horses?” he asked one of the guards.
The soldier shrugged. “Hell if I know. Made off with ’em afore dawn.”
“Weren’t there guards on duty?” Will demanded.
“’Tweren’t my watch. But them sneaky Indians can steal horses even with a guard.”
Will swore, then went in search of Jonah. “Can I borrow your horse?” he asked, grabbing Jonah’s saddle and bridle. “Shanty’s gone.”
“You can’t go after ’em,” Jonah said. “Drew’s orders.”
“You bet I can,” Will said. He saddled Jonah’s mare and galloped off.
It wasn’t hard to follow the cavalry squad’s fresh tracks from that morning. About two miles from camp, Will found the soldiers digging a grave for Burton. The stolen horses, including Shanty, had been rounded up and stood under guard. The missing prospectors—other than Burton—sat near their comrade’s body, and the three Snake Indians sat on the other side of the grave, their own horses with them.
“What happened?” Will asked as he dismounted.
“What’re you doin’ here?” the corporal in charge asked Will. “Drew told everyone to stay in camp.”
“They took my horse.” Will pointed at Shanty.
The corporal spat. “I’ll let you explain yourself to Drew when we get back. Long as you’re here, start diggin’.” He pointed at a shovel.
Will picked up the shovel and began digging next to another soldier. “What happened?” he asked that man.
“’Tain’t entirely clear,” the soldier replied. “Seems a few prospectors, including Burton—” He gestured at the body lying on the ground and the miners sitting nearby. “They decided they should steal the Indians’ horses. So sometime afore dawn, they cut the Indian ponies out of the herd along with their own. Took a few extra mounts, it seems.” He nodded at Shanty. “Yours musta been one of ’em.”
The soldier threw a couple of shovelfuls of dirt over his shoulder, then continued, “The Snakes went after their horses, as even an Indian has a right to do. Shots was fired, Burton got hit, and he died right here. The Snakes say he was on one of their horses when they shot him. One of the horses got shot, too. Lucky your mount ain’t harmed.”
As they worked, another soldier said, “Senseless killing if you ask me. Hear tell Burton didn’t even want to steal the horses, but his pals talked him into it. Called him an ‘Indian sympathizer’ or some such rot ’cause he didn’t wanna go. And now he’s dead.”
“Where are the thieves?” Will asked.
“Some of ’em run off when they seen us,” a soldier said. “Rest of ’em are over there.” He gestured to the prospectors sitting beside the body. “Drew wants us to bring ’em back. Bring the Snake Indians, too.”
