They were half-way through the narrow canyon and Cade was beginning to hope they might make it all the way without incident, when there was a sudden shout, followed by a horse whinnying in pain.
"Injuns!" someone shouted, and looking around, Cade saw a cloud of arrows raining down upon them. Most of the arrows clattered off the steep rocky walls on either side of them, but from the shouts and groans of fear and pain, Cade knew that at least some of them had found their mark.
"Dismount! Dismount!" Chambers ordered.
"Lieutenant, no! We can't dismount! We're in a confined area! We've got to get out of here!" Hanner shouted.
"First Sergeant Hanner, quit questioning my commands!" Chambers screamed.
The patrol was made up of seasoned cavalrymen who knew that the moment a body of cavalry dismounted, it would lose one-fourth of its effective fighting force by virtue of the fact that every fourth man was detailed to hold the horses of the other three. They also knew that if they dismounted here, they would be sitting ducks for the Indians up on the ridge line. But they were, above all, soldiers, and they had been given their orders. They dismounted.
The arrows continued to rain down and more men were hit.
"Lieutenant, we're getting slaughtered here!" one of the troopers shouted.
"Lieutenant Chambers, we must remount!" Hanner shouted.
At that moment one of the troopers holding the horses was hit. He was right in front of Chambers, and seeing him, Chambers panicked. He opened his mouth, but was unable to speak.
“Mount up!” Hanner called, assuming command.
Even as Hanner was giving the command, Chambers was brought down, not by an arrow, but by a rifle shot, for now the Indians who were armed with rifles had joined in the fray. Cade looked at the fallen lieutenant and saw that the bullet had struck him in the forehead, killing him instantly.
"Column of twos, forward at a gallop!" Hanner shouted, leading the men out of the narrow restriction.
After about a hundred yards, they reached a part of the gully that had sloping sides so that they were able to exit quite easily. Very quickly, they were up on top of the ridge, and at the same level as the Indians.
"Now!" Hanner shouted to the men. "Skirmish line front! Charge! Charge the bastards!"
At this point the situation changed, and the advantage belonged to the cavalry, for the Indians were not only dismounted, they were surprised by the sudden and unexpected counter-attack.
The troopers began firing and several of the Indians went down. The remaining Indians began to run. The cavalry charged at a full gallop until, finally, they reached a very deep cross-gully with walls that were much too steep for the horses to go down. Here, the Indians managed to slip into crevices and behind rocks as they scrambled down the canyon face to the floor.
Once on the gully floor, the Indians were able to find draws and off-shoot canyons which allowed them to get away. The soldiers were still firing, even though by now all the Indians had managed to scramble to safety, and there were no real targets.
"Cease fire, cease fire! You're wasting ammunition!" Hanner shouted.
The firing fell off raggedly, with the last few shots echoing back from the gully walls. By now all the Indians were gone and there was only the sound of a sighing wind.
Hanner looked around at the soldiers who were with him. "Did we lose any more men?" he asked.
"Not since the first volleys, First Sergeant," one of the troopers replied.
“All right, we’ll go back down and recover the wounded and bury the dead,” Hanner said.
“First Sergeant, they’s some squaws over there,” one of the soldiers said.
Looking in the direction the trooper had pointed, Cade saw a pitiful collection of women and children, gathered in a little group.
“Damn, they’s a couple of white women with ‘em!” someone shouted.
Without hesitation, Cade remounted and rode toward the gathering of women and children. They drew back in fear as he approached. At first glance, he didn’t see anyone who looked white, all were dressed alike. But of course, this long after their capture it was very unlikely that Arabella or Magnolia would be wearing the same thing they were wearing when they were captured.
“Arabella! Arabella!” he shouted, excitedly. “Arabella, it’s me, Cade!”
Nobody responded, and he went through them, pulling away their blankets, until he found the two white women. He didn’t recognize either one of them.
“Who are you?” he asked.
One of the women responded in a language that Cade didn’t recognize.
“She’s speaking Cheyenne,” Hanner said, joining him. “Your wife?”
Cade shook his head. “No. I don’t know them.”
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Hanner said. “We’re going to take you back to your families.”
“We have no family,” one of the women said.
“You can speak English!” Cade said, excitedly.
“Yes.”
“I’m looking for two white women. Arabella and Magnolia. Do you know anything about them?”
The two women looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No,” the one who had been speaking said. “We have heard nothing about two more white women.”
25
Fort Dodge, KS
What will happen to the two white women we brought back?” Cade asked General Sully.
“A couple of our Fort Dodge families have offered to take them in until they are acclimated into white society again. It’s going to take them a while to be able to live with themselves, they have such a strong sense of guilt,” General Sully replied.
“They have nothing to feel guilty about,” Cade said, resolutely.
The general started to reply, but checked his words. “You’re right of course, it was no more their fault than it is the fault of whatever your wife has gone through. Sergeant Hanner, and the others, had high praise for you on this scout. If you would like to stay on, the army would be happy to have you.”
“Thank you, General, for giving me the opportunity, but I believe I’ll continue the search on my own.”
“What will you do, next?”
“To be honest, I don’t know, exactly.”
“Would you like a suggestion?”
“Sure, why not?”
“We are the distribution point for freight that goes all over. The wagon drivers are in a position to know just about everything that goes on around here. Perhaps one of them will take you with them.”
“Thanks. I might just try that.”
Two privates were loading a wagon, while a man about Cade’s age stood by, directing how he wanted the load to go. He was cleanshaven, except for a neatly trimmed moustache.
“Yes, Evans, that will do nicely,” he said as one of the privates looked toward him before setting down the box. “That will help balance the load, and make it easier for the team to pull the wagon.”
“Excuse me,” Cade said.
“Yes, sir?” the wagon driver replied.
“My name is Cade McCall.”
“Oh yes, you’re the one trying to find his wife,” the wagon driver replied.
“You know about that?”
“Mr. McCall, everyone on the post knows.” The driver extended his hand. “I’m Jacob Harrison. What can I do for you?”
“General Sully suggested that it might be a good idea if I could ride with one of the wagon drivers. I’d try not to be a burden,” Cade said. “And I can spell you at driving when you want a break, but best of all I have a strong back so I can help with the loading and unloading.”
“That makes sense. I do run across quite a few people in diverse positions. That could be a rather significant base to gather leads.”
Cade laughed.
“Have I said something you find amusing?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that I’ve not run into many bullwhackers who have the command of the English language that you have.”
“I didn’t start out to be a freight wagon driver. After I graduated from university, I became an English professor at a men’s college in Fulton, Missouri, but after a while, I got bored, so I moved west.” Harrison smiled. “Actually, I find driving a wagon to be much more stimulating and, to be honest, considerably more lucrative than teaching.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Cade said. “But now, Professor, will you take me on as an assistant? Oh, and I’ll work for free.”
“Well, I was going to try to bargain with you about your pay, but I don’t think I can do any better than ‘free’. So yes, you’re my new assistant.”
Cade’s association with Jacob Harrison was more productive than anything he had done before. His route took him north as far as Fort Hays, Kansas, south to Camp Supply in the Indian Territory, west as far as Fort Lyon, Colorado, and all towns, trading posts, and road ranches in between. He didn’t get any information on where Arabella was, but as he spoke to traders and military, he began to narrow his search down to where she wasn’t. He was convinced that she wasn’t with Indians.
They had just crossed the Cimarron River and were in Indian Territory on their way to Fort Supply to deliver, among other things, a couple of cases of repeating rifles.
“I would like to have had a rifle like these we’re delivering back when I was in the 33rd Tennessee,” Cade said. “It sure would have come in handy.”
“You know, I wasn’t in the war,” Jacob said. “But I was in the army, and I tried to get in on the fighting, but I never got out of St. Louis.”
“Consider yourself lucky,” Cade said. “I hate giving a Yankee general credit for anything, but Sherman was right when he said ‘War is hell.’ I can tell you for a fact that it really is.”
“Well, here’s another good thing about me not being in the war,” Jacob said. “I was wearing blue, you were wearing gray.”
“That I was, friend, that I was,” Cade replied. “Say, if you don’t mind, stop the wagon here, for a moment. I need to water the lilies.”
“Good enough. I want to the check the harness anyway.”
Cade was standing on the side of the road, relieving himself, when he saw something down in a gulley that caught his attention. As soon as he finished, he crawled down into the gulley to examine the object of his curiosity. It was a knife, with a wood handle, and a curved blade. The initials EH were carved into the handle. He had no idea how long it had been there, but it looked to be in pretty good condition, so he picked it up, planning to show it to Jacob. When he climbed back up to the top of the gulley, he saw Jacob sitting on the wagon seat with both hands raised. He also saw three men holding pistols on Jacob.
“We don’t want your whole wagon,” one of the men was saying. “All we want is them repeatin’ rifles you’re a’ carryin’.”
“What makes you think I have any repeating rifles?” Jacob asked.
“We know. Now, get shed o’ them rifles ‘n you can go on about your business.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Cade said, his words shocking the three road-agents who knew nothing about him. “Suppose we keep the rifles, and you three men just go on about your business?” Cade was holding a pistol.
“What the hell?” one of the men shouted and, swinging his gun toward Cade, he fired and missed.
Cade returned fire and didn’t miss. The other two men turned toward Cade and guns roared. When the smoke cleared away, all three of the highwaymen were down, one of them shot by Jacob, who had taken advantage of the situation to get to his own gun.
“You all right, Jacob?” Cade called up to him.
“Yes, thanks to you. I’m quite sure they intended to leave no witnesses. We’re in Indian Territory, so Indians would have been suspected.”
Cade climbed back up into the wagon. “For a college professor, you’re pretty handy with a gun.”
“I’ve been around them for most of my life,” Jacob replied. He chuckled. “But the saving factor here was your weak bladder. Had you not responded to a call of nature, you wouldn’t have had the advantage over them. What were you doing down in the gulley, by the way? Surely, you aren’t that modest.”
“I found this,” Cade said.
Jacob examined it for a moment. “A Solingen knife, used by buffalo skinners. And I know this one. It belongs to a grizzled old gentleman by the name of Ernst Hoffmann.”
Three days later, they had delivered their cargo to Camp Supply in the Indian Territory, and were on their way back, when they stopped at the Buffalo Creek Trading Post. Cade was in the back of the store, looking at some woolen shirts, when Jacob came up to him.
“Are we ready to go?” Cade asked.
“No, not yet. There’s somebody up here that I think you should meet.”
“Oh?”
“It’s Ernst Hoffmann.”
Cade smiled. “He wants his knife back. Sure, I’ll be glad to return it to him.”
“It’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He may have some information you can . . .”
Even before Jacob could finish his sentence, Cade was on the move.
“. . . use,” Jacob finished.
As Cade approached the front of the store he saw a big bear of a man, with white hair and a white beard.
“Mr. Hoffman?”
“Jah, I’m Hoffman.”
“I believe this is your knife.”
“Jah. Danke,” Hoffman said, taking the knife.
“Jacob, uh, that is, Mr. Harrison, said you might have some information I could use.”
“You are looking for two women, jah?”
“Yes.”
“I saw a buffalo hunter and skinner who had two women with them. I do not think the women were happy being with them.”
“Where did you see them?”
“In Colorado, on Two Bit Creek. But I think they may not be the women you want to find.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I do not think they are American women. They were in Französisch sprechend?”
“He said they were speaking in French,” Jacob said with a big smile. He already knew all about Arabella and Magnolia.
“When?” Cade asked, excitedly. “When did you see them?”
“About a month, now.”
“Jacob! That means they’re still alive!”
“It sounds like it,” Jacob said. “I think I’m about to lose my assistant.”
“You knew all along I’d be leaving as soon as I heard something.”
“I know,” Jacob said. “But I’m going to miss you, Cade.”
“Me too. When I get Arabella back, maybe she and I can meet up with you again.”
“I have a suggestion for you if you want to take it.”
“What’s that?” Cade asked.
“Old Man Hoffman has a buffalo outfit, but his hunter left him. He’s looking for a hunter.”
“I can be that man, Mr. Hoffman,” Cade said. “That is if you’ll have me.”
“You need big gun,” Hoffman said.
“Big gun?”
“He means a Sharps fifty,” the store keep said. “It’ll bring down anything that walks on the face of this earth.”
“I’ll buy it,” Cade said. “And as much fifty-caliber ammunition as you have available.”
Cade proved to be a good hunter, and over the next few months he and Hoffman made a good team, with Cade killing the buffalo, and the German skinning them. Like Cade, Hoffman had also been in battle, fighting in two Prussian-Austrian wars, the first in 1864, and the second in 1866. He had come to America in 1867 declaring that if Prussia was going to fight a war every two years, he wanted no part of it.
It was now more than ten months since Arabella and Magnolia had disappeared, and six months since Cade had joined Hoffman. It was April, but the winter had hung on, and it was a cold, heavily overcast day. Cade had found a small herd of buffalo and had brought one down with his first shot. The herd moved o
n so he left the bull where it lay, and followed after them, sometimes riding, sometimes on foot. Then a heavy fog moved in, and looking around he realized that his horse was no longer in sight. The first approach of an icy cold norther whistled through the branches of the mesquite, and he called out to his horse, realizing that he needed to get out of the weather and back to the relative safety of the camp.
The horse didn’t respond to his call. Darkness began to fall, which with the fog, made it impossible to see more than two or three feet in front of him. By now he had lost all sense of direction, and decided he should stop wandering around, for fear of getting even farther from the camp.
Then, in a stroke of luck, he happened across the body of one of the buffalo he had killed earlier, so he began skinning it. Soon he had the hide completely off the animal, and he wrapped up in it, hair-side in. The robe kept out the wind, and he was actually able to sleep.
He was awakened during the night by a pack of ravenous wolves that were devouring the carcass of the buffalo he had killed earlier. Then, to his horror he realized that they were also attacking the skin in which he was encased. The hide wrapped around him was meat-side out. Finally he was able to get to his pistol, and holding it up, shot one of the wolves. With a yelp, it fell to its side. The gunshot frightened the others away, but the wolves were drawn again and again to the feast, and during the night he killed three more, shooting them at point-blank range.
It began snowing, but stopped before morning and when dawn broke the sun was shining brightly, reflecting in a glare off the new-fallen snow. Throwing off the robe, he looked around for his horse, but didn’t see it. When he found the other buffalos he had shot, he was able to get his bearings. He knew which way he needed to go to get back to camp, so he started walking through the snow. By mid-morning he saw Hoffman coming toward him in the wagon. He also saw his horse, tied to the back of the wagon.
“We will have coffee and breakfast now,” Hoffman said as calmly as if this morning was no different from any other since they had come out.
The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set Page 40
