Chapter 2 - Cash Dollars on the Hoof

[Grognardsw]

Paladin cantered his horse over to join Charlie. He listened to the proposal.

“Yes, we could use their tracking skills.”

[ateno]

"What are we going to do if they pick one of ours? Everyone else gonna throw in to buy me a horse?"

[Rex]

Charlie

"It sounds like they might have an extra, whoever ends up without a horse could take that one. If not then everyone pitching in to buy a new horse makes sense."

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson gets his horse sorted and follows the others over, where he listens to the conversation, but doesn't offer an opinion.

[jemmus]

McLaury eyes the Tonkawa, and they eye him. Yer tellin me that not one a y'all boys don't know nothin about trackin? But I bet ever goldurn one a y'all heathens can track a soiled dove to her nest easy enough. Well, if we're goin to pay them Tonkawas a horse if they find the whole bunch, I'm in. If mah bay is in the bunch, that is. If it ain't, I'm outa the deal. By now that horse is probably over the Red River and into Indian Territory anyway. Or a Comanche's sittin on it-- with a horse thief's scalp hangin from his lance. But I ain't showin up in San Antone on this ole five-dollar U.S. Army nag.

He thinks a minute, then mumbles, half to himself, half to everybody. Then again.... Maybe this ole bag a bones is just the thang fer ole S.A. Let them big town card players think I'm a poor, no-count idjit who ain't got no sense. Desperate to win a hand, playin foolishly and recklessly.... But as old man Jack Hammett said, "Some card players don't need to be able to shoot. But every man jack of em needs to be able to git out fast. Or run down somebody who's gitting out faster." He rubs the reddish-brown stubble on his chin. The Tonkawa men and women watch throughout, first with surprise, then with silent but rapt attention.

Gideon McLaury rubs the back of his neck, and the fingers of his right hand holding the reins of his thin, placid horse flick, then rest again. Yeah. I need my horse. He announces to everyone, with a grim and steely-eyed look on his face... Y'all can deal me in. Let's git ever last one of them horses.

The Tonkawa gamblers look the posse riders over appraisingly. They and the two women speak among themselves in the incomprehensible Tonkawa language. The word Comanche is heard a few times. At last there are nods around, and it seems that a mutual agreement has been decided on. The eldest man, still risen to his feet, speaks.

Him crazy. You know, ya'll men? Very good luck or very bad luck, this one. Gambler. Very brave or very foolish. You watch him good. The creek behind his back flows slowly and the gray-black rocks of the escarpment rise above.

Need Sebastian's action when you're ready.

[redwarrior]

William It sounds like a fair deal, and the fastest way to find these men before our horses are scattered to the winds.


Yeah, a little behind, just getting caught up!

[Bluetongue]

Sebastian

"Well if they find my old horse and choose that one, fine creature that she is, then I will expect a reasonable compensation. More than a straight swap for a Knacker's Yard nag like this boneyard. Say $25 dollars."

He bids his agreement to hiring the Tonkawa scouts and looks to the Sheriff to nod his affirmative.

[jemmus]

The deputy sheriff left and said he was returning to San Marcos. It’s just the posse members/hotel guests here with the Tonkawa.

The older Tonkawa man nods at the posse's acceptance of the deal. The men and women of the group discuss something in their strange and unique language. From their appraising looks and gestures, it seems to the travelers that the discussion is about their four lean Texas horses. Soon it seems a decision is reached. The younger woman who was gathering kindling finds and produces concealed thread worn blanket rolls and distributes them to the four men.

The men take their piles of pecans from the outspread deer hide and puts them intotheir shoulder-slung deerskin bags. The crows in the branches overhead observe and caw out their observations--or complaints. The man in the Army shirt picks up Charlie’s two silver dollars from the skin and hands them back to him. The men clamp various styles of Anglo felt or straw cowboy or farmer hats on their heads. The three men with Spencer carbines take them and mount up. And the fourth and youngest-looking, who apparently has no weapon but a steel knife at his waist, retrieves a war club and also mounts. [imgurl=]https://i.imgur.com/mBChX7P.jpg

The men urge their tough Texas horses into a walk. A crow flies across the little clearing and alights in the branches over the carcass of the dog. It looks at the woman and the meat, thinks a bit, and caws. The other crows observe and reply.

The man in the Army shirt says to the posse, We go west, past all Stringtown farms, bout five mile. Then look for tracks. Beside west and north Blanco County bad country. No good. He accompanies "no good" with an emphatic gesture of rapidly swiping one palm over the other in a downward motion. Comanche. Outlaw. Crazy white men. Crazy white woman. Some Winchester, some buffalo gun. All shotgun or Colt. New sheriff run away, just two deputy for 50, 60 mile to Perdanales River. No good.

The older man says Trouble come, you go east south Comaltown, New Braunfels. No go west, no go north. Cross Perdinales. Make old horses run! The Army blue shirt Tonkawa explains, Army have three map. All bad. Same river, three names. “Perdition, Perdinales, Guadalupe.” He mean that river. He points to the creek along the posse has crossed, where the Tonkawa group were gmabling and preparing for a meal. He mean that river. He mean you run old horses south and east and cross it. Go south and east, no go north, west. Go Comaltown. Let’s go.

The posse members draw hats onto heads and ride out of the cool shade of the pleasant picnicking spot in the shade of the trees beside the creek, . The glaring hot sunlight of early June in south-central Texas beats on their hats and their stoic old horses’ backs. The Tonkawa don’t seem to be in a hurry to reach any particular destination. Rather, it seems they have set off in search of finding a destination. With wives, sisters, or daughters left behind to hack it, pack it, and hump it on foot.

Gideon McLaury says, 'll give to them Indian gals, they got gumption. Two girls to git out afoot on the road in this dolgurn country. They must've wanted that extree horse bad. Not sayin I'd ever eat dog meat myself.

For the riders, it seems like it might be a long, hot hours of riding. Toward the north. And the untamed west.

[Grognardsw]

Paladin rode along with the other cowboys.

“What’s this about a new sheriff running away?” he asked the Tonkawa.

[Rex]

Charlie

Charlie follows along, ever alert.

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson falls into his usual spot in line and looks around as they ride.

[Bluetongue]

Sebastian

Doesn't trust riding along an unknown trail with carbine totting injuns who in another yesteryear might be just as well thinking of decorating their weapons with his newly peeled scalp.

He keeps his thoughts to himself, riding at the back and watchful for any sign of betrayal.

Sebastian: Observation (10) [1d20]=3 [1d20]=20

[ateno]

Doos unstrings his bow, puts it in the rifle sheath and takes his place In line.

[jemmus]

The party rides west on the wagon road between the creek and the cliffs of the escarpment, past the Wiley place and the other farm-and-ranches of Stringtown. After around five miles the Tonkawa start quietly talking to each other. One points to an outcropping of rock on the escarpment. Another points with his nose toward a cottonwood tree by the creek. All four dismount and lead their horses on foot, their eyes sweeping the roadway and its edges as they walk. After around a mile the youngest man stops and gives a low, short whistle and points with his nose. Horse droppings a few yards in the brown grass off of the north side of the roadway. The men lead their horses off of the road and scour the ground with their eyes. Trample marks in the grass. The men make brief comments in Tonkawa. Lot horses,, the oldest man says. Ten-twelve, more. Mebbe them. The tracks lead to Perdition Creek, which here in higher ground is only around six feet across and a foot deep. Horse hoof tracks are clearly seen in moister earth of the near and far banks.

The party crosses the creek and the Tonkawa continue leading their horses on foot, stopping occasionally to examine sign. The party's pathway is toward the northwest. After around five miles, trees become steadily more scarce and the grass taller and more dry. The group crosses a dry gully creek bed and again see distinct horse tracks in the gravel and sand.

After a couple of miles continuing northwest, the trackers stop. They seem to be uncertain about the trail in this drier, harder ground and taller grass. They discuss in Tonkawa, and three leave their horses with the man in the Army shirt. They branch out and each go different directions toward the northwest, gingerly stepping, apparently so as not to disturb sign. After a long hour, the man who has been generally silent so far gives a low whistle similar to the one the younger man did before. The other two approach, and the three proceed forward toward the northwest, scanning the ground and the grass. They stop and the oldest one raises an arm to beckon blue Army shirt and the posse forward. It's around 6:30 in the evening.

After another five or so miles, the trackers top a gentle rise in the grasslands and stop. They quickly turn around and lead their hours back the slope. Three hand their reins to the youngest man, then go back up the rise, finally dropping to all fours so that only their heads are above the grass. The crawl forward that way and stop for a while, looking. Then crawl backwards, stand, and approach the posse. Old house. Only one. Tracks go that way. Your horses probably there. Don't see no people outside.

It's around 8:00 in the evening. The Sun will set in around half an hour. There's a white half moon hanging low in the sky turning blue to orange over the edge of the prairie.

Tracking. In a region with few roads, often the only way to tell where someone went was to follow the faint trail left by his passage . Overturned stones and sticks, scuffed rocks, scratch marks, and churned-up sod are the signposts a tracker reads, as well as his own intuition about where the quarry is headed. A skill check is required every 2 miles. Adjust the character's skill score by: -3 if the area is hard or rocky; -6 if the trail leads through a large town or across a river (only if the quarry moved up or down stream); -1 if the quarry is indians; +6 if the quarry is indians in a town. If it rains, the trail is wiped out. If the trail is lost, it can be recovered by making a skill check with an additional -4 modifier, one check per hour.

[Rex]

Charlie

Charlie will sneak up and scout the house for himself.

Scouting (14)
Stealth (10)

[ateno]

Andrea, we should give your telescope a workout?
Doos

[Bluetongue]

Sebastian

Dismounts, puts his horse in the shade. Fixes himself some cobbled rations of bread and cheese, jerky strips. He checks his horse.

He waits, impatiently but waits nonetheless for scout reports to come back.

[cybersavant]

Andreas Larson dismounts and tethers his horse with the others. He takes out his spyglass and crawls forward a bit to have a look. Then he hands it over to the next fellow beside him. "Vhat ist der plan?"

[ateno]

Doos takes the telescope and uses union artillery style to search the area. Checking for the sun shadow and looking sector by sector,

I don't have observation, but I figured I would roll.


" No plans, till we gather information, dont wanna open a door to a gattling gun.

J. Doos

[redwarrior]

William dismounts and stretches after a long day's ride on a substandard horse. Missing Justice His horse greatly. While Charlie scouts, and the others make use of the field glasses, he stretches and limbers his arms. He replies to Andreas It would be nice if they gave up and returned our horses, but I expect it won't be peaceful when we make our demands. Not for the first time, he wishes he'd had the money to purchase a rifle.