Monday, January 3rd, 1870
En route to Deadwood, Dakota Territory
The aftermath o’ the Kornfield Klub incident is thankfully over. Once the Padre had said some words and the dead were in the ground proper-like, the survivors insisted on havin’ a party in the posse’s honor; I soon found that this was an honor my compatriots were unwillin’ to decline. So, I was already in a bad mood. I was thinkin’ about how Wit’s ways had failed a bunch’a boys and even kilt a pair o’ deputies, when it got worse.
The press showed. Fortunately, most o’ ‘em seemed interested in the whole o’ the story, and while a few o’ ‘em nearly got themselves thrown in jail for baitin’ the sheriff, we kept the bulk o’ ‘em on message: the threat is over, we beat it.
Bein’ in the public eye made it easy for the Brigade to find us (not that I hadn’t told them where we were going, absent the stop in Illinois) and send a telegram directly to me … though how exactly that happened with the lines out all over is a huckleberry above my persimmon. Good fer Western Union, I suppose.
Anyway, bein’ away from hearth and home is takin’ a toll. While I managed to wrestle a precious few hours o’ sleep on the Sabbath, the hullaballoo o’ the press and the party made it difficult to do any sleepin’ durin’ the daytime, and the nightmares make sleepin’ at night impossible. As one might therefore reasonably expect, the message for me from the home office was met with a degree o’ surliness.
Turns out that it’s time to pay up a debt o’ gratitude, and fer once, the Brigade’s all for me ‘consortin’ with the natives’. Never Smiles (remember him, dear reader? No? He’s in volume two… look for the Bear Winter entry) o’ the Cheyenne apparently needs a dedicated and trustworthy posse to ensure a wagonload o’ supplies gets from Deadwood to his remote camp within the Sioux Nation. As we were the closest posse available (despite the fact we are neither dedicated nor trustworthy), and as Wild Bill knows how much I owe the Cheyenne, we drew the duty.
The Padre and Cher are goin’ to park the Air Carriage some two or three miles outside o’ Deadwood so that we don’t spook the locals. Belle and Beau have graciously elected to remain aboard. Maybe they’ll get up to learnin’ how to do somethin’ other than parlor tricks, but I doubt it. Colonel Colt gave the common man the power to do what I’ve seen most o’ these cardsharps do, and you needn’t give up your immortal soul for ammunition. Besides, they got different sinnin’ to do.
Hopefully, this visit to Dakota Territory will be less eventful than our last.