The Wagon Train Diaries
In the Beginning
The Wagon Train Diaries...
In the beginning
Historian’s Note: These stories take place in the late 1860's.. a wagon train’s historical notes
The Wagon Master heard the footsteps outside his wagon several seconds before the Indian scout arrived. The warning gave him the time he needed to bring his meditation to a close.
A moment later, he was waiting by the back end of his wagon, alert. Continuing to track the sounds of footsteps, the Wagon Master calculated the precise moment when the Indian scout would reach his wagon.
Just as the Wagon Master knew they would, the footsteps stopped at the right side of his wagon. The Wagon Master waited just a heartbeat for the Indian scout to take a step toward the back of the wagon, then he struck, aiming the first blow at the Indian’s head.
Reacting quickly, the Indian dodged to one side and partially deflected the Wagon Master’s hand. Nevertheless, the blow struck the Indian on the shoulder, knocking him to the ground.
"Enough," the Indian said evenly.
"You’re losing it White Deer," said the Wagon Master. "You were the best scout a wagon train ever had. What happened?"
"Alastar Brown," said the Indian as he stood without help from the Wagon Master. "I am still the best scout ever. You just became a better Wagon Master."
The Wagon Master smiled.
"But we have to be on our best," said the Indian scout. "We are entering Dead Crow’s Valley."
"It’s haunted with the spirits of Indians and soldiers. The last wagon train that past through these parts never ended up in California. Their bodies were discovered in heaps, and their wagons burned to the ground. Horses slaughtered..."
"That’s what bothers me," Interrupted the Wagon Master.
The Indian looked confused.
"What ghosts, burn wagons?’
"We will soon discover the answer to your question Alastar," said the Indian scout. "We will have so many answers.....
© 2011 Frank Atanacio
More by this Author
Kimber then started scanning the length of the train station platform and the parking lot looking for any trace of a witness. It was very early in the morning, and the streets were empty and the .....
"This was the cause of his demise," he said. " Man’s got a hole in his head and life just poured out. The poor bastard.."
The gatherers just stood around and watched the young woman suffering as their brains were being pickled by stupidity.