Chapter 12

All that night, and on through the next day, the bandits rode eastward. Whenever their horses became tired out from traveling, they had to rest briefly in order for them to regain their strength. There was still enough food for them to prepare for the next five or six days. Although the bandits preferred to have the taste of meat in their mouths, they feared that a campfire would get them caught by more of those irritating lawmen who might be hiding out here. They had enough trouble with those ruffians interfering already.

During those hours, Grace was either tied to a tree, bush or a cactus to keep her from running away. She had been allowed to graze on green grass if there was any. It tasted fresh and sweet, but Grace was a little concerned about why Lewis didn't already shout at her or beat her for stomping on his feet back in town. Perhaps he wasn't in the mood to be dealing with her behavior. Or maybe he was worried that if he did abuse her, she would scream loud enough to attract unwanted attention to more lawmen that may be following them. Well whatever the reason, she didn't need to worry about that, for now at least. It was best for her to mind her own business by continuing with her grazing. She was still fumed over his pack of lies about her scars. What she didn't know was that Lewis was planning on punishing her once they were out of this territory.

Tuck on the other hand, had done a little pick pocketing from the town after growing bored of chasing the cat. He had stolen necklaces, earrings, and some money to give to his masters. Scar Face Sam had awarded him with another sausage. His job was to keep an eye on Grace as well as guarding the trail to watch for oncoming trespassers. As always, the Doberman was proud of himself for pleasing them. This had sickened Grace in a way.

When it was time to move out again, Grace had to always be carried over the horse of the gang leader since her legs were too small for her to keep up with the rest of the horses on ground. And sometimes she would fall asleep, her head bumping on the horses ribs. This journey was long enough to leave her tired out from the lack of rest. If she did doze off, Sam had given her a light pat behind the head to waken her to keep from slipping. In her fatigue, Grace thought she saw the canyon plateaus painted in all sorts of bright colors mixed with red, yellow, orange, and green. Sometimes the silhouettes in the sky took the shapes of cowboys on horses chasing after a herd of buffalo. She thought the skies looked more beautiful with the clouds going by in a blur when dusk had fallen.

The bandits never passed through the plateaus because the rivers in that area were rumored to be inhabited by an Indian tribe known as the Comanche. So they had to ride under the shadows of the plateaus to avoid being spotted. It wasn't that they were afraid, but it was also rumored that most tribes in some parts of the west had grown to be hostile and distrustful of white strangers in their territory for many good reasons. Grace would often wonder why some of these plateaus had these strange markings carved into them. But she was feeling too drowsy to care since the hot day made her feel tired.

By the time the sun had been setting, the bandits made it through the Indian's territory and were able to move eastward over the Rocky Mountains as quickly as they could. Right now, Grace had been awakened by a slap behind her head from Sam. She opened her eyes halfway and looked around weakly not knowing where she was now. She swallowed dryly from many long hours without food and water and was feeling nearly dehydrated. Grace was hoping that the Yeller Gang would soon stop at an area with a river somewhere. The tired calf managed to get a few glimpses of a few acres of forest in the valley below the ridge they were crossing. This path seemed narrow in different places with trees and boulders on the edge of the cliffs. Hopefully Sam's horse wouldn't loose its footing and tumble over the rocky slope.

Later that night

"This looks like a nice place to stop for tonight!" announced Sam. The gang had reached a grass covered plateau area with a flowing river moving downstream and a few trees. They were only able to see it perfectly because of the full moon and stars twinkling in the nighttime sky. And it was the perfect place for their horses to graze on the grass and drink from the river.

Mounting off his horse, Sam pulled Grace off his saddle by the back of her neck. The calf quickly rushed over to the river to have a drink. She was gracious to hear Sam say that they would be stopping in this place only because she was thirsty. Of course, she knew it was foolish for her to believe that the bandits would be treating her nicely throughout this never ending trip. She could only keep her attention to the river as she felt the cold water run down her throat and filling her dehydrated body.

"Hey Gene, why don't you go out and see if you can find us some meat?" Sam asked one of his men as he pulled out a kettle and metal pot out of his traveling bags. The bandit agreed to do so and headed over to where he hoped to find a deer, buffalo, or wild bird. Another bandit named Carl unpacked the remaining dry foods they would soon be having with their meal. Lewis came back carrying wood for the fire and set it in a neat pile. What was he going to do once they rode out of Indian Territory? He couldn't help but feel that he should have been taking care of something already.

"Yah know, I can't help but shake this feelin' that I've forgotten somethin'," he murmured thoughtfully while scratching his bearded chin. "I know I was s'posed to be takin' care of it once we'd be out o' sight, but what?" he was still trying to figure it out.

"Would it have anything to do with the calf over there?" Sam pointed to Grace who was still drinking from the river.

Lewis took one glance at Grace then finally remembered that he was supposed to deal with her for stomping his feet and trying to run away from him. His mind had been so focused on getting as far away as possible that he had almost forgotten about the little brat's behavior toward him. By now, she must have thought she was off the hook. Well he was about to let her know that nobody ever gets off without being punished.

"I remember now, thanks for remindin' me," he said stomping toward Grace with his fists clenched tightly. He paused when he felt Sam put a hand over his shoulder. For a moment Lewis glanced back and found that Sam placed a whip made of rawhide into his left hand. Pleased to find that he would not be using his upper hand tonight, he continued stomping and would thank Sam later.

Grace was crouching by the edge of the river drinking to replenish her body from the many long hours of traveling. She was still feeling relieved to feel the nice taste of cool fresh water run through her stomach. But when Lewis's reflection appeared in the water, her relief was soon turning into fear when she also noticed the look of fury on his face. She ceased drinking and stepped back as if her "owner" was watching her in from the water preparing to pull her in.

"Don't think you'll be gettin' away that easy," Lewis growled as he snatched the end of the lead attached to the halter. Grace winced as he yanked her further away from the river and past the already lit campfire. "Now that we ain't in town no more, it's about time I teach you a lesson about your misbehavior."

Grace was now hurting from the tight halter digging into her face as Lewis kept pulling to drag her over to a tree implanted fifteen feet from the campfire. She felt her face sweat and redden with fear realizing that Lewis had perhaps not forgotten about her mishap after all. And as usual, she sensed that he was preparing to give her at least thirty strokes from the whip he held in his other hand. In fact, she had been given thirty whenever she got in trouble back at the other place she was ashamed to call home. Grace didn't care where the whip came from since she was trying to keep a strong hold of her bad feelings so that she hoped Lewis wouldn't see it. Her frightened eyes stung with unshed tears.

"Get down on your stomach bovine!" he hissed dangerously after tying the lead around the tree in a knot. "Thirty hits are what you need." She was right.

When Grace was not moving fast enough, he had to force her down on her stomach impatiently by placing his hands roughly on her shoulder blades. The calf laid there flat on the grassy mound without moving an inch of her body, awaiting her punishment. She pressed her teeth against her right hoof thinking that it would keep her from screaming. Hearing the whip crack in the air like lightening, Grace felt a lash of fire on her back as she heard Lewis counted "one." It felt as if she had been burnt. She winced at its touch, but kept still. Each blow grew more painful than the other one as she felt hate toward her "owner" loom up inside of her, but was afraid of showing it in front of him.

When Grace had received her thirteenth stroke, her teeth slipped off her hoof and she was now biting her lower lip before wincing at the fourteenth hit. By the twentieth stroke, her eyes watered and tears streamed down her cheeks, but still she sat without making a sound. The harder she bit onto her lip, the more she tasted blood. As much as she hated Lewis, Grace was afraid that one day her "owner" would beat her to death if she continued to be disobedient. Yet there was nothing she could do about it; if she attacked him in any way, he would beat her. If she tried to run away, Tuck might track her down eventually and she would be lead back to more of Lewis's beatings. And she didn't want to think about what would happen if she was caught sneaking into the bandits' food supplies or whatever else might be considered "misbehaving."

Although Grace couldn't see it, she thought she felt little drops of blood ooze slowly from a few cuts by the time the whip reached twenty-five. She winced in pain some more and gritted her teeth at the twenty-sixth hit, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, and finally thirty. The thirtieth hit caused her to finally let out a cry of agony unable to take it any longer. Lewis watched with satisfaction from seeing her do this believing that this lesson has taught her enough.

When Grace laid there with her head still on the ground, Lewis curled up the rawhide whip around his right hand and spoke fiendishly. "I told yah before bovine; no troublemaker such as yourself ever gets off the hook without being punished. My feet could a been broken in two cause o' your recklessness. Then how else would I be willin' to raise yah?"

Upon hearing that last sentence, Grace felt infuriated like a kettle with steam blowing out. After all the brutality he inflicted on her, Lewis rants about wanting to raise her as if she were some loving family member. No love could ever come out of being beaten severely or being cursed at for no apparent reason.

But Lewis went over to Grace and stooped down next to her as he continued. "As long as you are with me, you live by my rules." Then he lifted the calf's chin to meet his gaze. Grace gasped when she saw his expression of wickedness. "If ya ever attack me like that again or run away, your reward will be fifty lashes upon your hide; enough to break ya in two. Don't ever forget that!" he warned as he tightened on the halter. Grace could do nothing but moan softly in his grip. Then he pushed her head back on the ground and took his hand away to rise up. "And just for that, you'll be havin' no supper tonight; not even a scrap. In fact, there will no food or water for the next three days. I offered yah my word o' leftovers and yet this is how you've repaid me. And don't let me catchin' ya sneakin' through our food supplies or I may give ya fifty. Now get up!"

Giving her a light kick in the ribs, Grace was able to sit up despite the soreness all over her back. She turned her tear-streaked face from Lewis and gulped, feeling a lump in her throat. Lewis undid the knot on the lead and forced Grace to walk back with him to the campfire where the Yeller Gang was now preparing a serving of their evening meal. Grace limped along feeling the cuts on her back burn like fire. She had been shocked to hear Lewis's threat of fifty lashes and could only keep on moving before he changed his mind.

"So what are we havin' tonight gentlemen?" Lewis called as he tethered the lead to a strong mulberry bush.

"Elk meat on a stick!" answered Sam who was hanging a couple strips of meat over a stick to dry. "All well cooked!" he held a piece off the meat up with a silver fork. Lewis licked his mouth in anticipation of the fresh meat. He had never tasted elk before, but it sure seemed tender and juicy. Leaving Grace by herself, he walked over to the campfire to join them.

Grace sank her trembling body on the soft grass and stared miserably at the mulberry bush she had been tied to. If Lewis thinks he can keep her from eating or drinking anything around this area, he better think again. There is a mound of grass lying beneath for her to graze on. And there are pickets of sweet berries on the bush. He couldn't stop her from snacking on those. Or could he? Maybe he only meant that he was not going to be giving her the food they were eating right now. She had no interest in that kind of meal anyway because of its unsatisfying smell. But she did not want to risk taking a bite out of the grass or berries if Lewis might somehow catch her and give her more lashes for being disobedient during her punishment of no food or water for three days. It was probably safer for her to snack while they were sleeping. That's what she will do; wait till they're all asleep.

While the group laughed and joked as they ate the few remaining scraps from their plates, Grace flinched from the fiery pain on her back while turning to lie on her left side. Her back had been turned to the campfire. She would not allow herself to let her feelings show to those ruthless desperados. She hated to hear them sound happy while she was laying here feeling miserable, weak, and sullen. It was hard for Grace to get her mind off of what happened to her recently because of the blood she felt oozing and staining her beautiful blond hide across her back and neck. Just what she needed, more cuts from the whip. What did she do to deserve this cruel treatment?

"So how long did yah have the calf?" Sam asked after chewing down a piece of the elk meat with the fork.

"Oh about two months," Lewis answered lowly before biting on a big flaky yellow biscuit. "At first I thought I'd raise her to be a hard worker for pullin' a wagon of supplies to town, but she was awfully feisty and rebellious for some strange reason; even for a calf. So I had no other choice but to discipline her." Then he gulped from a liquor bottle to wash down the food.

"Well she don't seem to be rebellious now," Gene eyed Grace with a furrowed brow. "You sure have a way of dealin' with untamed livestock."

"It does the only way to make'em behave," Lewis looked over at Grace smiling ironically. He had often succeeded in dealing with her behavior the hard way. It was enough to make her afraid of rebelling against him.

"So what you plan to do with her now?"

"Well I still plan to train her to be a hard worker, so that she'll be useful for carrying most of our supplies," Lewis laughed. "tired o' havin' to see her doin' nothin' but sleep." Setting the plate down, he continued. "Then if she is no use anymore, she'll be cooked into sizzlin' steak!" he laughed some more.

Grace's eyes widened in horror; not only will she be forced to work, but she'll end up as the main course over a campfire if she refuses to obey or is too weak to carry on. The crows weren't lying about it after all. How on earth would she get through with this? If only the lawmen would find and save her in time before it's too late. Grace buried her face in the grass underneath and felt the tears slide from her eyes. Her courage and hope of ever being found sank low. She and the bandits were far away from town and the chances of escape from them are now out of the question. The lawman may forever be trying to track them down and never catch up to them. Grace wondered if her friend Sampson deeply misses her without knowing what is about to happen. All of these thoughts were too much for Grace to hold in her feelings any longer as she was now sobbing beneath the grass. How can she eat or sleep when her heart was aching so badly?

"Maybe I do deserve all this?" Grace whispered miserably. "Maybe I'm nothin' more than a disobedient calf. But I just can't…" Once more she broke off sobbing in heartbreak. Hot tears continued to leak down her cheeks, overwhelmed by her feelings of hopelessness and sorrow. Grace stopped sobbing when she remembered what Sampson told her the last time she was feeling this way. He was trying to tell her that no matter how hopeless things may seem, she must never give up on finding her way out of it. Even if Sampson wasn't here, Grace knew that's what he would be telling her right now. Turning her tear-stained face to the star covered sky; she whispered "If you're out there Sampson, please hurry." Then she cried herself to sleep.