Terry C. Johnston - Death Rattle

RIDE THE MOON DOWN

Bass is a near-mythic Davy Crockett-like character, but author Johnston imbues him with Everyman emotions. Readers of past Bass adventures will not be disappointed.

Booklist

DANCE ON THE WIND

A good book not only gives readers a wonderful story, but also provides vivid slices of history that surround the colorful characters.

Dee Brown, author of
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee

Packed with people, action, and emotion makes you wish it would never end.

Clive Cussler

BUFFALO PALACE

Rich in historical lore and dramatic description, this is a first-rate addition to a solid series, a rousing tale of one mans search for independence in the unspoiled beauty of the old West.

Publishers Weekly

Terry C. Johnston has redefined the concept of the Western hero. The authors attention to detail and authenticity, coupled with his ability to spin a darned good yarn, makes it easy to see why Johnston is todays best-selling frontier novelist. Hes one of a handful that truly knows the territory.

Chicago Tribune

CRACK IN THE SKY

No one does it better than Terry Johnston. He has emerged as one of the great frontier historical novelists of our generation.

Tulsa World

Mastery of the mountain man culture in all its ramifications, a sure grasp of the historical context, and the imagination of a first-rate novelist combine to make Crack in the Sky a compelling, fast-paced story family anchored in sound history.

Robert M. Utley, former chief historian for the National Park Service and author of A Life Wild and Perilous: Mountain Men and the Paths to the Pacific

CARRY THE WIND, BORDERLORDS,
and ONE-EYED DREAM

Johnstons books are action-packed a remarkably fine blend of arduous historical research and proficient use of language lively, lusty, fascinating.

Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph

Rich and fascinating There is a genuine flavor of the period and of the men who made it what it was.

The Washington Post Book World

Cry of the Hawk
Winter Rain
Dream Catcher

Carry the Wind
Borderlords
One-Eyed Dream

Dance on the Wind
Buffalo Palace
Crack in the Sky
Ride the Moon Down
Death Rattle
Wind Walker

S ONS OF THE P LAINS N OVELS
Long Winter Gone
Seize the Sky
Whisper of the Wolf

T HE P LAINSMEN N OVELS
Sioux Dawn
Red Clouds Revenge
The Stalkers
Black Sun
Devils Backbone
Shadow Riders
Dying Thunder
Blood Song
Reap the Whirlwind
Trumpet on the Land
A Cold Day in Hell
Wolf Mountain Moon
Ashes of Heaven
Cries from the Earth
Lay the Mountains Low

DEATH RATTLE
A Bantam Book

PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam hardcover published December 1999

All rights reserved.
Copyright 1999 by Terry C. Johnston.

Map by Jeffrey L. Ward.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 99-15684.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information address: Bantam Books.

eISBN: 978-0-307-76057-9

Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words Bantam Books and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, New York, New York.

v3.1

For all the trails
he has guided me down,
I dedicate this story
to my old Bantam friend,
Charlie Newland
youve always been there
to lead the way!

Let us live oer those deeds again
Of trap-line, camp and desperate fray;
Where roved the long-haired mountainmen
Who broke the trails and led the way.

EDWIN L. SABIN , Old Jim
Bridger on the Moccasin Trail

Damn, if this dead mule didnt smell like a month-old grizzly-gutted badger!

Titus Bass swiped the back of his black, powder-grimed hand under his nose and snorted with that first faint hint of a stench strong enough to make his eyes water. Without lingering, he spilled enough grains of the fine four-F priming powder into the pan, then carefully raised his head over the dead mules still-warm rib cage.

The sonsabitches were gathering off to the left, over there by big Shad Sweetes side of the ring. Really more of a crude oval the two dozen of them had quickly formed around this collection of ancient tree stumps when they started dropping every last one of their saddle stock and pack animals with a lead ball in the brain.

Dun shoot till youre sure! Henry Fraeb was bellowing again.

Hed repeated it over and over so many times it was beginning to nettle the gray-haired Bass. We aint none of us lop-eared pilgrims, Frapp! he growled back at the trapping brigade leader.

The man they called Ol Frapp twisted round on that one leg he was kneeling on, spitting a ball out of his gopher-stuffed cheek into his sweaty palm. Gottammit! Dont you tink I know ebbery wund of you niggurs?

Well make em come, Frapp! Elias Kersey shouted from the east side of their horse-and-mule breastworks, shoving a sprig of long, dusty-blond hair out of his eyes.

Dont you worry none bout us! another man growled down Basss right.

Here they come again! arose the alarm.

Titus twisted, rolling on his hip so he could peer behind him at the far side of the narrow oval, where some of the defenders hunkered behind a stump here or there. Then his eyes slowly climbed over the heads of those other beaver trappers as they all sat entranced, every eye fixed on the half-a-thousand. Sure was a pretty sight the way those horsemen had been forming themselves up over yonder after every charge, gathering upon that wide breast of bottom ground where the warriors knew they were just out of range of the white mans long-barreled flinters.

About as savvy as Blackfoot, Bass ruminated as he watched the naked riders start to spill out in two directions, like a mountain torrent tumbling past a huge boulder plopped squarely in the middle of a creek. Foaming and roiling, building up force as it was hurtled into that narrow space between the boulder and the grassy banks itself, huge drops and narrow sheets of mist rising from the torrent into shafts of shimmering sunlight

Shoot when youre sure! Jake Corn reminded them, the expression on his dark face gone cloudy.