text: 15
  
  Little Elk led the way once more down into the cold waters of the Cheyenne River and walked across. Grit followed, leading the horse with Colleen aboard. When they reached the campsite, he lifted her down and said, "Now what can I do to help?"
  
  "Oh, I don't know," she said. "I'm so sore and beat up. I must be a sight."
  
  He pushed back her hair from her forehead and said, "You're the most beautiful sight I ever saw, and that comes straight from my heart. We'll get you well, then we'll head back home."
  
  "You're a good liar, and I love your for it," she said.
  
  "I'm about out of everything to eat," he said, "but we've got some venison we can cook, and I still have plenty of coffee and some of the sugar loaf left."
  
  Within a few minutes, he'd cooked her a portion of venison and served it cut up on his only plate with a cup of coffee with sugar. She ate as he built up the fire and puttered around the campfire.
  
  When she had finished eating, she said, "I'd like to get clean, but I got nothin' to wear."
  
  "Well, I've got some blankets, and you could wash in the river, and I'll wrap you in my coat and your legs in blankets. I'll wash your clothes, and we can hang 'em by the fire to dry."
  
  "I wouldn't mind a nap while they dry," she said.
  
  "Good, let's do it," Grit said.
  
  After her bath, Grit wrapped her up and carried her back up to the campsite. He washed her socks and her dress as best he could. He noticed that her underpants had a lot of dried blood. He soaked them for some time in the river and was able to get most of the stain out. It was the best he could do with no soap. He drove two tree limbs into the ground and lashed a longer limb across them, from which he hung the clothing back from the fire so that it would dry sooner. Colleen watched him as she lay nearby in the warmth of Grit's coat and his blankets.
  
  "You just rest now, and I'll be back soon," he said. "Nobody will bother you, so rest easy." Colleen nodded and closed her eyes.
  
  Little Elk led the way back across the river and the two men they'd left tied there. When Grit approached Atlock he said, "Atlock, we're gonna get you on your horse."
  
  "I can't get on no horse," Atlock said.
  
  "Okay, then you'll have to walk," Grit said.
  
  "To where?"
  
  "To the bank of the river."
  
  "What for?"
  
  "You'll find out."
  
  "I ain't walkin' nowhere," he said.
  
  "Okay," Grit said. He grabbed the rope off the dead trooper's horse and walked back to Atlock. Before Atlock knew what had happened, Grit had tied a loop around his ankles. He got on Atlock's horse and dragged his body over to the cottonwood tree by the side of the river as the man kept screaming that he was in pain. Grit got down, untied the rope from Atlock's ankles, then quickly tied it around his neck.
  
  "You can't hang me," Atlock shouted. "I'm a U.S. cavalry trooper, and I'm a wounded man." He cursed Grit in the most vile terms possible. "You Indian lover, you consort with that heathen."
  
  As Grit threw the rope over a limb, he said, "Little Elk is a better man than you'll ever be. He doesn't kidnap, rape and beat women. You are the lowest form of human life, Atlock." Grit pulled Atlock straight up into the tree and tied the rope off.
  
  Then the corporal began begging with all his being. "No, no, no. I don't wanna hang. I never done nothin' to the woman. It was all Atlock's idea. We never touched her."
  
  Grit glared down at him and said, "Did you ever stop Atlock from what he did to her?"
  
  "No, but he was in charge. He's the sergeant. We couldn't stop him."
  
  "So... you let that monster beat and rape my wife, and you did nothing!"
  
  The corporal moaned on and on, knowing it was clear he hadn't done anything to help Colleen. And then he started crying like a stricken baby. Grit paid him no mind. He grabbed his collar and dragged him to the tree. He lowered Atlock's body, removed the rope from his neck and put it around the corporal's neck and lifted him straight up.
  
  "You bury 'em now?" Little Elk asked later as they stood by the cottonwood.
  
  "No shovel," Grit said.
  
  "Hokay, I drag in trees," Little Elk said.
  
  The next morning, Colleen's face was pale, the bruises more evident, and her eyes were still half-closed from the swelling, but she told Grit she wanted to leave.
  
  "I wanna see Astrid and get home where I can get a good hot bath," she said. "I wanna heal."
  
  Grit was ready within a half hour. He lifted Colleen onto the horse, and they crossed the river. "Find us the quickest way to Fort Sully," Grit told Little Elk.