“That’s my rifle.”
“Can you identify it by any distinguishing marks?”
Glass felt his face grow flush at the challenge. Why am I the one being questioned? He took a deep breath. “The barrel is engraved with the name of the maker—J. Anstadt, Kutztown, Penn.”
The major pulled a pair of spectacles from his pocket and examined the barrel. He read aloud, “J. Anstadt, Kutztown, Penn.” Another murmur filled the room.
“Do you have anything further to say, Mr. Glass?” Glass shook his head no.
“You are dismissed.”
Glass returned to his place across from Fitzgerald as the major continued. “Lieutenant Askitzen, swear in the defendant.” Askitzen walked to Fitzgerald’s pen. The shackles on Fitzgerald’s hands clanked as he placed his hand on the Bible. His strong voice filled the mess hall as he solemnly stated the oath.
Major Constable rocked back in his chair. “Private Fitzgerald—you’ve heard the charges of Mr. Glass. How do you account for yourself?”
“Thank you for the opportunity to defend myself, Your Hon—I mean Major Constable.” The major beamed at the slip as Fitzgerald continued. “You probably expect me to tell you that Hugh Glass is a liar—but I’m not going to do that, sir.” Constable leaned forward, curious. Glass’s eyes narrowed as he too wondered what Fitzgerald was up to.
“In fact, I know Hugh Glass to be a good man, respected by his peers in the Rocky Mountain Fur Company.
“I believe that Hugh Glass believes every word he said to be the God’s honest truth. The problem, sir, is that he believes a whole bunch of things that never happened.
“Truth is, he’d been delirious for two days before we left him. Fever spiked up that last day, especially—death sweats, we thought. He moaned and cried out—we could tell he was hurting. I felt bad there wasn’t more we could do.”
“What did you do for him?”
“Well, I’m no doctor, sir, but I did my best. I made up a poultice for his throat and for his back. I made a broth to try and feed him. Course his throat was so bad he couldn’t swallow or talk.”
This was too much for Glass. In the firmest voice he could muster, he said, “Lying comes easy to you, Fitzgerald.”
“Mr. Glass!” roared Constable, his face twisted suddenly into a stiff knot of indignation. “This is my proceeding. I will cross-examine the witnesses. And you will keep your mouth shut or I’ll hold you in contempt!”
Constable let the weight of his pronouncement sink in before turning back to Fitzgerald. “Go on, Private.”
“I don’t blame him for not knowing, sir.” Fitzgerald tossed Glass a pitiful glance. “He was out—or feverish—most of the time we tended him.”
“Well, that’s all well and good, but do you deny that you abandoned him? Robbed him?”
“Let me tell you what happened that morning, sir. We’d been camped for four days by a spring creek off the Grand. I left Bridger with Hugh and went down on the main river to hunt—been gone most of the morning. About a mile from camp I all but stepped on an Arikara war party.” Another ripple of excitement passed through the spectators, most of them veterans of the dubious fight at the Arikara village.
“The Rees didn’t see me at first, so I made my way back toward camp as quick as I could. They spotted me just about when I got to the creek. They came charging, while I went running up to our camp.
“When I got there, I told Bridger that the Rees were right behind me—told him to help me get the camp ready to make a stand. That’s when Bridger told me that Glass was dead.”
“You bastard!” Glass spat the words as he stood and moved toward Fitzgerald. Two soldiers with rifles and bayonets blocked his path.
“Mr. Glass!” yelled Constable, beating a gavel on the table. “You will hold your seat and hold your tongue or I will have you jailed!”
It took the major a moment to regain his composure. He paused to adjust the collar of his brass-buttoned jacket before returning to the interrogation of Fitzgerald. “Obviously Mr. Glass was not dead. Did you examine him?”
“I understand why Hugh’s angry, sir. I shouldn’t have taken Bridger’s word. But when I looked at Glass that day he was pale as a ghost—not moving a twitch. We could hear the Rees coming up the creek. Bridger started yelling that we had to get out of there. I was sure Glass was dead—so we ran for cover.”
“But not before taking his rifle.”
“Bridger did that. He said it was stupid to leave a rifle and knife behind for the Rees. There wasn’t time to argue about it.”
“But you’re the one with the rifle now.”
“Yes, sir, I am. When we got back to Fort Union, Captain Henry didn’t have the cash to pay us for staying back with Glass. Henry asked me to take the rifle as payment. Of course, Major, I’m glad for the chance to give it back to Hugh.”
“What about his flint and steel?”
“We didn’t take them, sir. I expect the Rees got that.”
“Why wouldn’t they have killed Mr. Glass—lifted his scalp in the usual manner?”
“I imagine they thought he was dead, same as we did. No offense to Hugh, but there wasn’t much scalp left to lift. The bear carved him up so bad the Rees probably figured there wasn’t no mutilating left to be done.”
“You’ve been on this post for six weeks, Private. Why haven’t you unburdened yourself of this story before today?”
Fitzgerald allowed a carefully calibrated pause, bit at his lip, and hung his head. Finally he raised his eyes and then his head. In a quiet voice he said, “Well, sir—I guess I was ashamed.”
Glass stared in utter disbelief. Not so much at Fitzgerald, from whom no treachery arrived completely unexpected. But more so at the major, who had begun to nod along with Fitzgerald’s story like a rat to the piper’s tune. He believes him!
Fitzgerald continued. “I didn’t know before yesterday that Hugh Glass was alive—but I did think that I’d abandoned a man without so much as a decent burial. Man deserves that, even on the front—”
Glass could bear it no longer. He reached beneath his capote for the pistol concealed at his belt. He pulled out the gun and fired. The ball strayed just wide of its mark, burying itself in Fitzgerald’s shoulder. Glass heard Fitzgerald cry out and at the same time felt strong arms grabbing him from both sides. He struggled to break their grip. Pandemonium erupted in the courtroom. He heard Askitzen yell something, caught a flash of the major and his golden epaulettes. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his skull and all went black.