The chief and his braves closed in on Artie, wondering what would make the government man struggle so. The chief's eyes followed Artie's as he looked out over the desert, not seeing what the agent could be seeing that was so frightening. Artie's frantic eyes met the chief's confused ones.
"Aren't you going to do something about that?" Artie asked gesturing with his head.
"Do something about what?" The chief sounded confused.
"There's something out there, don't you see it?" Artie asked as the chief nodded to two of his braves.
They moved stealthily toward the direction Artie was looking. The braves moved in and out among the cacti whispering to each other. Finally they returned to their chief and told him they found nothing. The chief glared at Artie.
"You take me for a fool, white man?" The chief demanded harshly.
"No…not at all. I wouldn't…" Artie was quickly cut off.
"You tell us why you're here. Maybe we let you go." The chief addressed Artie with a glare.
"I told you I'm on my way to San Francisco. I'm just passing through."
"White man lie." The chief spat on the ground.
"Lie? Why would I lie about that?" Artie pled his case as his eyes scanned the area.
"White man only know lies. Treaty with white man broken many times. You have government paper, you work for government. You can not tell truth." The chief told him sternly.
"Chief…yes I work for the government but I do not lie. I was on my way to San Francisco just like I told you." Artie's eyes caught sight of something moving through the cactus.
"Why you go this way to big city? Why you no take iron horse or coach?"
"Kill him now, chief! He lies!" One of the braves surged forward toward Artie.
"Stop," The chief held up one hand and several other braves held him.
"You answer." The chief looked again at Artemus.
"Chief…I told you. I was playing this game with my partner and I'm hiding from him." Artie paused trying to catch his breath and failed to notice the brave rubbing idly at his hand.
"You play game? You take me for fool." The chief rose and approached Artemus.
"Honest Chief, I am not lying. My partner and I…" Artie paused again as he noted movement in the cactus. "we…uh…were playing this game. It's hard to explain. I bet him I could get to San Francisco before he could find me." Artie looked pleadingly at the chief.
The brave that had been rubbing his hand suddenly clutched his head and dropped to the ground. One of the braves knelt down and touched his forehead. Pulling his hand back quickly he spoke to the chief in rushed tones looking and pointing at Artemus on occasion. The chief looked toward Artemus then cautiously approached him. Placing his hand on Artie's forehead, the chief looked at him with a frown.
"White man brings sickness. We kill him!" Several of the braves moved toward Artemus.
"No, the shaman will heal him…if not then maybe you kill him." Artie gulped audibly.
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"Boy, Artie you're all over the place." Jim was knelt down in the dirt inspecting some tracks he found. "Hopefully I'll catch up to you today." Jim stood and looked around before mounting Blackjack. He checked his map again then pulled the reins and headed out once again.
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The shaman approached Artie his hands raised high. In one hand he held a tubular pipe, long eagle feathers and the down from an eagle while the other hand contained a tobacco pipe, a bone, a rattle and some beads. He shook them at the heavens as he chanted and moved around Artemus.
Artie shook his head at the sight. I sure wish I hadn't read that report on file in Washington about these people, Artie thought. And the past three days of just being tied up out here while they wait for me to crack is about to work. Right now I'd swear to shooting Lincoln if it would get me untied and out of this damned heat. He had to convince these savages that he was merely sick and not crazy before they completed the cleansing ritual. He didn't even want to think about the possible outcome.
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Jim rose again before the sun, wishing Artie hadn't been able to get such a big head start on him. Three days at least was hard to make up and Jim was getting impatient, he felt he might be pushing his steed too hard. But these past three days I think I covered enough miles…I should be able to catch Artie today. Jim smiled at the thought.
Jim had been riding hard all morning and he reluctantly stopped to give Blackjack a much needed break. Scanning the countryside Jim thought he spotted movement on the top of the hill. Hiding himself in the trees, he took his spyglass out and looked toward the ridge.
"Damn!" He swore as he looked. "Bannock this far south either means a trading party or…" He didn't want to lend his voice to say war party but the thought was there just the same.
He quickly put the spyglass back in his inside pocket and pulled Blackjack toward the brush. It would take him longer to reach Artie than he cared for, but Jim wasn't about to lead a party of Bannock on a chase that could lead them in the direction of his partner.
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As the shaman continued his chanting, Artie was growing fatigued. His breathing was becoming shallow, sweat was pouring off him and his head started to pound. Through bleary and bloodshot eyes he looked past the shaman and again saw the puffs of dust being kicked up.
"Quick! Look…out there!" Artie gestured with his head, causing all eyes to look out over the cacti.
"You have to see that. Look! Right there…don't you see it? There's a panda bear behind that clump of cacti." Artie pleaded with them to see what he was seeing.
The chief and the shaman studied him for several long and agonizingly silent moments. Finally the shaman broke the icy silence.
"White man has evil spirit trapped inside. Must get spirit out or white man infect whole tribe." The chief looked from the shaman to Artemus and back to the shaman, wondering if the white man was worth all the trouble he seemed to have caused.
"What we do?" The chief asked.
"He need bleed…that get rid of evil spirit." The shaman turned and spoke to several of the braves clustered there.
The braves cut the ropes binding Artie and he collapsed in a heap. They roughly grabbed him and dragged him toward a nearby prickly pear. When Artie realized what was about to happen he began to struggle. One brave tightened his grip on Artie's arms and another hit him on the back of his head with the blunt side of his hatchet. As Artie slumped unconscious in their grip, they removed his shirt. When he was stripped to the waist, they placed him on a prickly pear. The shaman instructed them where to place him so that the cactus would prick him just where needed to drain the evil spirits from the white man's body.
Several of the braves looked away as the stickers pierced Artie's skin, one covering his ears to keep from hearing the sickening sounds the stickers made. Artie's blood began to run down the cactus and dripped onto the sand, forming small puddles that dried instantly in the blazing heat of the day. One of the braves deposited Artie's clothing in a pile beside him and they stepped back to watch the scene unfold.
"How long until the spirits go?" The chief wanted to know. "The Bannock will not want him if the spirits are not gone before they come." No one seemed to notice that their prisoner had regained consciousness.
"Before the sun moves to the horizon." The shaman answered. All eyes turned toward Artie when he began to laugh.
"Ha, ha, ha…he's right behind you," Artie snickered, "and you can't seeeeee him."
"What you speak of?" The shaman asked as he inspected Artie's pupils.
"The great big black and white panda bear…he's right behind you." Artie grinned like a man possessed.
The shaman turned to look and the only thing he saw was the Bannock trading party. He pulled the chief aside and whispered in his ear occasionally one or the other of them would glance in Artie's direction. After what appeared to be a rather heated, albeit hushed, conversation, the chief reluctantly nodded and acquiesced to the shaman's directive.
Chief Wastawana had sent his usual band of braves to engage in the bi weekly trading that occurred between the Bannock and Shoshone. As the Bannock spoke virtually the same language as the Shoshone, the greetings were quickly dispensed with and the trading began.
One of the braves reached down and idly picked up Artie's clothing and began to examine it. He searched every pocket, seemingly fascinated by the items he found there. When he came across the government ID he started chatting excitedly to his leader. The Bannock trading party leader and the Shoshone chief exchanged words and finally the chief seemed pleased as he gestured toward his prisoner and nodded. Artie's ID was placed back in his pocket.
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Jim had recognized the jacket one of the braves had searched as being one of Artie's. He knew he had to find him, and quickly, if he had gotten into their hands. Jim stayed to the bushes watching their exchange until the Bannock finished their conversation and left chattering excitedly amongst themselves.
He followed the Shoshone warriors as they seemed the best bet for him to find Artie. If they had his jacket they might have him. Jim jumped on Blackjack and rode toward the braves keeping back far enough not to be spotted.
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"Chief want know when pale face be ready." The biggest Bannock brave wanted to know as he gestured with his head toward Artie.
"Our shaman say by the time the sun reaches the horizon." The Bannock brave shook his head.
"We need him now. Chief say we go back now." The brave was adamant.
"Shaman say he not ready. You take now and he die our trade still good." The chief spat. The brave seemed to ponder this for a moment.
"Fine bargain stands. We take him now."
The Bannock braves headed over toward Artemus and the Shoshone braves scattered, glad to finally be free of the "touched" white man. They roughly pulled Artie off the cacti and one of the braves scooped up his clothes. Artie was dragged to a nearby horse and carelessly tossed over the steed's back. The braves mounted their horses and one grabbed the reins of Artie's horse and pulled it along as they headed for the Bannock camp.
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Jim waited in the brush until night fell, keeping his eyes on the busy camp. He had searched the perimeter of the camp and had seen no sign of his partner. He has to be here somewhere I just know it, Jim thought as his eyes continued to scan the camp. He discovered which tent belonged to the chief and had made his decision. As soon as the camp quieted down he would sneak into the chief's tent and find out where they were keeping Artie.
He slunk back to his horse and grabbed his canteen. He wouldn't have long to wait, as it was almost dark now. Jim was glad as he was becoming irritated being forced to wait.
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When they reached their camp the Bannock braves unceremoniously dumped Artie in the corner of a large tepee as one would discard an old coat, not bothering to render any form of first aid to the myriad of cuts on his back. Their prisoner made no attempts to move, nor issued any sound as one brave kicked him in the ribs.
The braves held a powwow with their chief and he instructed them to try their healing ritual as this particular white man could be very valuable to them. He possessed information they needed and the chief was willing to do whatever it took to get it from him.
One brave left the tent and hurried to the squaws that were preparing their supper and issued the chief's demands. One woman quickly set down the meal she was working on and began to prepare the items that would be required. Another woman took over her supper duties as the brave returned the main tent.
