CHAPTER 26 “Nothin’ left but soup bones.”
“My God, Mr. Bowie, come to your senses! No sane man goes a’ purpose into Karankawa country.” The speaker was Curly Dan Withers, who’d been one of Strap Buckner’s entourage at the welcome party. Of Buckner himself, there had been no sign since the previous evening.
Bowie paused in arranging the packhorse. The man was far from wrong.
“He means no offense, Jim.” This from Edmondson, ever the diplomat. “The way those savages are acting of late, it’s become a death trap.”
Bowie returned to his task. The colonists had been more than generous. With the gray packhorse, they’d provided a mustang for Bowie and a buckskin for Mariette, along with blankets and camp tools.
“The Kronks have always been devils,” Bowie said. “How has that changed?”
“They’ve
