Read Red Prophet: The Tales of Alvin Maker, Volume II for Free Online

Reds won’t be able to tell one White man from another. Then his people will start dying just like ours. Then Armor-of-God Weaver will fight.”
    “Yeah, well, if Jackson and Weaver would likker up their Reds the way we’re doing ours, there wouldn’t have to
be
a war.”
    Hooch aimed a mouthful at the spittoon and didn’t miss by much. “That Red, that Ta-Kumsaw.”
    “What about him?” asked Harrison.
    “He worries me.”
    “Not me,” said Harrison. “I’ve got his brother here passed out on my floor. Ta-Kumsaw won’t do nothing.”
    “When he pointed at me, I felt his finger touch me from across the room. I think he’s maybe got a come-hither. Or a far-touch. I think he’s dangerous.”
    “You don’t believe in all that hexery, do you, Hooch? You’re such an educated man, I thought you were above that kind of superstition.”
    “I’m not and neither are you, Bill Harrison. You had a doodlebug tell you where firm ground was so you could build this stockade, and when your first wife had her babies, you had a torch in to see how the baby was laying in the womb.”
    “I warn you,” said Harrison, “to make no more comment about my wife.”
    “Which one, now, Bill? The hot or the cold?”
    Harrison swore a good long string of oaths at that. Oh, Hooch was delighted, Hooch was pleased. He had such knack for hotting things up, yes sir, and it was more fun hotting up a man’s temper, because there wasn’t no
flame
then, just a lot of steam, a lot of hot air.
    Well, Hooch let old Bill Harrison jaw on for a while. Then he smiled and raised his hands like he was surrendering. “Now, you know I didn’t mean no harm, Bill. I just didn’t know as how you got so prissy these days. I figured we both know where babies grow, how they got in there, and how they come out, and your women don’t do it any different than mine. And when she’s lying there screaming, you know you’ve got a midwife there who knows how to cast a sleep on her, or do a pain-away, and when the baby’s slow to come you’ve got a torch telling where it lays. And so you listen to me, Bill Harrison. That Ta-Kumsaw, he’s got some kind of knack in him, some kind of power. He’s more than he seems.”
    “Is he now, Hooch? Well maybe he is and maybe he ain’t. But he said Lolla-Wossiky would see with his othereye before I laid a hand on him, and it won’t be long before I prove that he’s no prophet.”
    “Speaking of old one-eye, here, he’s starting to fart something dreadful.”
    Harrison called for his aide. “Send in Corporal Withers and four soldiers, at once.”
    Hooch admired the way Harrison kept military discipline. It wasn’t thirty seconds before the soldiers were there, Corporal Withers saluting and saying, “Yes, sir, General Harrison.”
    “Have three of your men carry this animal out to the stable for me.”
    Corporal Withers obeyed instantly, pausing only to say, “Yes sir, General Harrison.”
    General Harrison. Hooch smiled. He knew that Harrison’s only commission was as a colonel under General Wayne during the last French war, and he didn’t amount to much even then. General. Governor. What a pompous—
    But Harrison was talking to Withers again, and looking at Hooch as he did so. “And now you and Private Dickey will kindly arrest Mr. Palmer here and lock him up.”
    “Arrest me!” shouted Hooch. “What are you talking about!”
    “He carries several weapons, so you’ll have to search him thoroughly,” said Harrison. “I suggest stripping him here before you take him to the lock-up, and leave him stripped. Don’t want this slippery old boy to get away.”
    “What are you arresting me for!”
    “Why, we have a warrant for your arrest for unpaid debts,” said Harrison. “And you’ve also been accused of selling whisky to Reds. We’ll naturally have to seize all your assets—those suspicious-looking kegs my boys’ve been hauling into the stockade all day—and sell them to make good the debt.