#401
Big chewed on his problem all day. The deed of killing the rider was done, couldn't be retracted or glossed over, and now he was complicit by association. It took a lot of mental gymnastics and prayer to bring a conclusion to his hurting soul. In the end, Big couldn't let the prisoners die in an ambush. As a free man, he was responsible for their welfare as long as the captured men were in his care.
The group pushed hard across the prairie and finally found a Northward bound road of sorts close to the river.
If they had passed the hideout of the robber group, they were unaware, but no one was anxious to go looking for the band of brigands.
It was well into dark before Mark called a halt. The night was chilling down, the low clouds bespoke an oncoming storm, and the Dakota hole fire pit cooked the huge pot of oatmeal.
Someone had to constantly stir the oats as the fire was newly lit and blazing up. Mark would have certainly preferred two smaller pots, but they had to make do with what they had. Finally, the oatmeal was cooked, and bowls of the mush were passed to the men in the wagon.
"Eat slow and chew it well, or you'll be sorry," Mark cautioned the men. "I want to re -inforce that none of you are getting out of the wagon, no matter how dire your circumstances. Are there any questions?"
There were none, all the prisoners were busy chewing.
Tom grinned as he shoveled mush into Adam's bowl. "Go ahead and eat my portion," he offered to his son. "I ate a good breakfast this morning. Our lookouts told us you were coming up the track, so I volunteered to do the dishes, and the dishwasher gets to eat all the leftovers."
"That's gross," Adam admonished, shivering at the thought of eating off another's plate.
"Not if you're hungry enough, " Tom laughed silently and humorously. "I was the new guy, and they didn't feel over generous toward dishing out food towards a body they hadn't got sold on 100%. Besides, if you were busy in the kitchen, you got to overhear a good bit of the planning information."
Mark was listening, as Tom handed Adam the bowl. Turning around to talk to his friend and mentor, Tom told about the robbers that had a sophisticated operation.
"They have several bands, each under the control of a captain that gets orders from some commander. The head guy is never mentioned by name; and I understand that they had a band up where you guys used to live. I heard some pretty bad, sicko stories of what the northern band did to the people they slaughtered. That was part of your group, wasn't it." Tom spoke low and with pain in his voice.
Mark nodded shortly. White hot anger sizzled from his countenance. "We'll deal with them on the way back, but they will be sorry. I can guarantee you that."