Lost Banshee Mine

by Jackson Lowry

  “No, I fought them, but there were too many of them. You have to believe me.”

  “Quiet!”

  “Dan, I—”

  “Quiet! Listen.” England Dan got to his feet and turned slowly, then began sniffing the air. “That way. Their camp’s over yonder, not too far, either. I hear them chanting, and the smoke from their fire’s blowing this way.”

  Cooley saw him take a deep breath and hold it before letting it go with an explosive gasp. He took a couple steps in the direction of the smoke.

  “Wait, Dan. Where are you going?”

  “Big Ear’s camp is over there. Not far. We’re going to save the girl.”

  “How? There’re too many of them. I don’t have many bullets. Not enough.”

  “I don’t, either. That means we have to be smart. Smart and sneaky.”

  “You’ll get us killed!”

  England Dan laughed harshly. He came back and grabbed the front of Cooley’s shirt and lifted him to his feet. With his face only inches away, he spat out, “You should be so lucky. You wouldn’t have to live with knowing what you’ve done today.”

  “You’re the big hero,” Cooley shot back. “What do you know about saving anyone?”

  “We’ll sneak to the camp, decoy them away, then get Mandy and the horse. How many other horses were there?”

  “Only the chief’s. And the mule. My mule!”

  “I did this once before in an Indian village—East Indian.”

  “We’ll be killed if we try.”

  “That’s exactly what my commanding officer said. I disobeyed him and saved half a village.” England Dan made a small choking sound. “The other half was slaughtered by sepoy deserters, but I saved some of them. A few. Not enough.”

  “We can’t shoot it out with the Indians. If we go to Oasis and get—”

  “Come on.” England Dan shoved him in the direction of the Mogollon camp. Cooley stumbled along, hanging onto his six-shooter even though he knew it was almost empty.

  Cooley tried to veer away, but his partner herded him better than a sheepdog did its flock. They crossed the meadow to the edge of the forest. A solitary sentry guarded the two horses and mule. The rest of the hunting party was wrapped in blankets around the dying campfires. Cooley duckwalked beside his partner. He almost cried out when he saw Mandy trussed up and roped to a tree.

  “I see her,” England Dan whispered. “I’ll take care of the sentry. You free the girl.”

  “But the horses!”

  “I’ll sneak them out from under their noses. Wait and see.”

  Cooley knew they were going to get caught.

  “I don’t have a knife. How can I get her free if the knots are tied real tight?” He recoiled when a blade was pressed into his hand. The last excuse for not going through with his partner’s harebrained scheme was gone.

  England Dan pointed. He waited until Cooley slipped around the campsite before going off to deal with the sentry. Cooley closed his eyes for a moment, tried not to panic, then moved as silently as possible to free Mandy.

  She slumped forward, chin on her chest. He almost wished she were dead. Then he wouldn’t have to risk making any noise that’d alert the hunters. But she sneezed and strained against the ropes holding her securely to the tree.

  “Shush,” he said. “Don’t make a sound.”

  “John? Is that you, you son of a—”

  He clamped his hand over her mouth to stifle the outburst. Only when she subsided did he release her. Sawing away at the bonds proved harder than he had expected. The knife was dull and the hemp rope tough. Once she let out a squawk when he nicked her, but she didn’t curse him anymore. He finally sawed through the rope. She sagged forward. He supported her, then helped her to her feet. She took a step and fell heavily. The Indians had hobbled her.

  Cooley made quick work of those ropes. He rubbed circulation back into her ankles and started working up, but she shoved him away.

  “How do we get away from them?” Her soft voice carried in the still night.

  He pressed his finger against her lips, then pointed. England Dan came up with the two horses and mule.

  “Get on,” his partner urged.

  Cooley started to mount the chief’s horse since England Dan already rode the black stallion, almost invisible in the shadows. Mandy pushed him out of the way and jumped up, leaving him to ride the mule.

  “This is better,” he said. “I can’t ride bareback too well.”

  “I noticed,” Mandy said. “I never rode any other way when I was growing up.”

  England Dan shushed them again. Walking the mounts slowly got them a hundred yards distant before an outcry came from the Indian camp. They kicked their horses and mule to top speed. Cooley called out for the two on horseback to wait for him. He kept looking over his shoulder, sure the Indians were pounding closer, in spite of being afoot. He bent low and whispered to Mabel. The mule knew what had to be done. It might not have been as fleet as the horses, but it wanted to get back to its stable as much as Cooley did.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HE’S IN REAL bad shape.” Mandy placed her hand on Alberto Gonzales’ forehead. “He’s got a fever. Not much, but he’s so pale. He’s not in good shape.”

  “He lost a lot of blood before I got him back here,” England Dan said. He sat on the far side of the table in the only other chair. Mandy had pulled the second chair close to the bed to tend to the deputy. She seemed to know what she was doing, which was a relief. England Dan was tuckered out from trying to take care of the wounded lawman.

  “How much longer do you think we can stay here?” She soaked a rag in water, rung it out and draped it over Gonzales’ brow to help bring down the fever. Pale rays of sunlight sneaked past the broken limbs of a tall pine tree to fall on the man’s drawn face.

  “Yeah, what do you think?” Cooley perked up and looked around as if the Indians were hiding inside the small cabin. “We should get on the trail. Get back to Oasis.”

  “You’re right,” England Dan said, resigned to the trip. It made sense, even if it would push the deputy even closer to dying. They shouldn’t have left him alone before, but how else could they have saved Mandy from Big Ear? Life felt like a giant scale. Too much weight in one pan caused the other side to soar upward. Take weight off the heavy pan and the balance was restored. Only it seemed like his life and everything around him bounced up and down faster than he could tolerate.

  “Jensen is still roaming around, unless him trying to kill the deputy was all it took for him to hightail it,” Cooley said. “You think he returned to Mesilla?”

  England Dan touched the coat pocket where he carried the map. That piece of paper had set off a fire that burned up everyone around it. “He’s still out there,” England Dan said, “unless Big Owl got him.”

  “What’s that?” Mandy looked up from tending the deputy. “Is he one of the Indians?”

  “It’s nothing. No one,” Cooley said uneasily. He got up and went outside.

  “What’s spooked him? Who is Big Owl?”

  England Dan tilted back in the chair and laced his fingers behind his head. He felt like spinning a yarn. Mandy was the kind of woman likely to appreciate a tall tale.

  “One of the Indians, No Shadow, was half loco. He told me about a giant ogre that prowls the forests, howling and carrying on. Big Owl only screeches when someone’s about to die.”

  “So if we don’t hear the howls, we’re all safe?” Mandy chuckled at that. She clapped her hands over her ears and danced about, pretending to be scared.

  England Dan felt a cold knot form in his belly. He had laughed at No Shadow, too, but had the brave heard Big Owl? If he had, the prophecy had proven true. No Shadow was dead. The Irish stories about banshees had been good for scaring the dickens out of new recruits to the British Army, but as far as Engla
nd Dan knew, none of them had ever heard a wailing banshee. Big Owl might be real.

  The possibility made him all the more eager to get back to town.

  “We’re going to try to get the deputy to Oasis again. I’m not sure we’re safe here, not with Big Ear and Jensen out there.”

  “When he figures out we’ve returned here, he’ll come after us, won’t he?” Cooley referred to Jensen, but England Dan was more worried about the Indians.

  Worse than one of their tribe being murdered, their pride had been punctured. The Mogollons cared almost nothing for personal possessions, but horses were the way they rated social status. Big Ear had lost not only his horse, but another horse and mule had been taken as prizes by enemy raiders. His standing with his braves had to have taken a knock. The only way to recover was victory in battle. That meant going on a rampage against miners—and specifically the ones who owned the Trafalgar Mine—rated high on how to recover their wounded pride.

  “I don’t care if he’s strong enough. Let’s get on the trail. We can be in town in ten hours. Less. We have mounts now.”

  “What about me?” Mandy looked hard at Cooley. England Dan knew what she meant. Return to town, then what? That was between her and his partner, but he suspected the girl was in for a disappointment. Cooley wasn’t the man to marry, much less look after her the way she expected. She should have known that after everything that had happened thus far.

  “You’re going with us, of course,” Cooley said. His eyes darted about. “Dan, help me get Gonzales up. He’s more than I can handle by myself.”

  “He’s not the only one you can’t handle,” Mandy said sourly. She gathered a few things, stuffed them all into a blanket and slung it over her shoulder. “Well, let’s go. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

  England Dan shared her feelings, but for different reasons. Although Cooley looked as if he was helping, Gonzales’ full weight bore down on only one set of shoulders. Stumbling along, the deputy making feeble effort to walk, England Dan got him outside the cabin.

  “Fetch the horses and the mule,” he ordered Cooley. His voice carried the snap of command. His partner hurried off to do as he was told.

  “All I’ve gotten out of this is a dead sister,” Mandy said, voice shaking with both exhaustion and anger.

  “He’s not the right man for you.”

  “Are you?” Her emerald eyes boldly challenged England Dan. He shook his head. “Too bad. You’re more of a man than he is.”

  He didn’t have to answer. Cooley led the two horses and mule up. Without asking, Mandy jumped onto Big Ear’s stolen horse and waited impatiently. Hoisting Alberto Gonzales onto his horse took longer than England Dan liked. The lack of cooperation from the deputy showed his worsening condition. He stepped up behind Gonzales and reached around to take the reins.

  “I don’t want to ride Mabel,” Cooley complained. He grumbled even more when both Mandy and England Dan ignored him and started on the trail for town.

  England Dan would have enjoyed his partner’s consternation if Big Ear and Jensen hadn’t been hunting them. The Indians and the outlaw had to come back here eventually, once they realized there wasn’t any other place to hole up. He tightened his grip on the lawman as they rode. Every yard seemed to take more out of the deputy.

  By time they rode into Oasis, it was close to midnight, and which of them was in the worst condition was a matter of dispute. Alberto Gonzales barely stirred. Mandy had tumbled off her horse more than once when she fell asleep. Cooley complained endlessly, and England Dan ached all over. Not a bone in his body remained untouched by the constant pounding. His exhaustion matched that of the others, but he had to keep going. He was in charge.

  “We need to find someone to look after Gonzales,” he said. “You know anybody, Mandy?”

  “Madam Morgan took care of folks who came down with typhus a year or two back. She might take him in, but not without getting paid. Nobody gets a free ride at her brothel.”

  “We don’t have any money,” Cooley whined. “It’s all gone.”

  “Would she take Big Ear’s horse as payment?” England Dan saw Mandy oppose that right away, and he knew why.

  “I’m not giving up my only gain on this sorry misadventure,” she said. “This is my horse now.”

  “Keep it,” England Dan said, drowning out Cooley’s protest. If they got caught, no amount of argument with the chief would save their scalps. Better to put as much distance between them and the hunting party as possible.

  “We don’t have a lot of choices other than the cathouse,” England Dan said. “She must owe you something for working there.”

  “The way she keeps books, I doubt there’d be much.”

  “But you’re so persuasive,” Dan said. “You must know the right thing to say to her?”

  “I may be able to wheedle Madam Morgan into taking care of him. If she thinks she’s doing something out of the goodness of her heart, she might give in, just a little. You sure you don’t have any money, just to make her charity a bit easier?” Mandy looked hard at him, then shrugged. He doubted anything he gave her would ever reach the madam’s purse.

  They rode to the brothel. After England Dan handed down the deputy, Mandy and Cooley worked together to drag the unconscious man to the front porch. Cooley almost ran back to climb up on Mabel. He waved halfheartedly and then called out as he got the mule trotting away, “I’ll see how he’s doing later.”

  “I wonder if he’s hitched,” Mandy said almost to herself, her hand checking the deputy’s feverish brow. She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. He’s not going to make it.”

  “He’s hung on this long. He’s a tough hombre,” England Dan said.

  Mandy looked away when Madam Morgan came bustling from the brothel, arms waving about to chase off her wayward employee. Mandy stepped up and began a heated dialogue that slowly went her way. The madam snorted and spat but finally started pointing in a way that showed she was being swayed by Mandy’s words and would let her and the deputy stay. England Dan tipped his bowler in her direction, then rode off. Keeping the deputy’s horse felt like theft. If he sold the animal, there’d be money to help Alberto Gonzales recuperate, but riding like the wind astride a noble steed again called to England Dan more than he cared to admit. He thought of keeping Whirlwind more as tending it for the deputy than stealing it.

  He’d promised Mandy he’d see how the lawman was faring later. A decision about the horse’s ownership could be made then. Later. Maybe much later. He had a lot of miles to travel.

  He caught up with Cooley, who stared longingly at the Thirsty Camel Saloon’s entrance. Laughter and music echoed from the dim interior.

  “You spent the last of our money on Mandy,” he said.

  “It wasn’t worth it,” Cooley said sadly. “Look at the trouble I got into. She even thought I’d take care of her.”

  “She thought you were going to marry her after her sister was murdered. I wonder how she got that idea.” England Dan saw his partner’s eyes dart about as if he had found himself trapped in a cave with a hungry bear at the entrance.

  “I never outright said I’d do a thing like that. Marriage isn’t something a fellow ought to jump into, all blinded by a purty filly batting her eyelashes at him.”

  “That’s so.”

  “You don’t have a nickel to spare? I’ve got a powerful thirst.” Cooley looked hard at the saloon and licked his chapped lips.

  England Dan ignored him. “Going back to the mine’s not a good idea.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the map.

  “True,” Cooley said. “With the Indians after us, and Jensen prowling about, and Deputy Gonzales all shot up, we . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw the map. “You’ve had it with you all this time?”

  “I know how to find the starting point. No Shadow told me this spot here is M
ule Springs. From there, finding the peaks all lined up shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Mule Springs is on the other side of the mountains,” Cooley said in a voice crackling with excitement.

  England Dan put his heels to Whirlwind’s flanks and rocketed away, letting Cooley astride Mabel follow at a slower pace. Riding alone for a few minutes suited him and gave him a chance to think. The Trafalgar Mine wasn’t yielding the gold it once had. With all that had happened, it was more likely to be his grave than his salvation. There might be nothing to be found where the X on the map promised, but before the map showed up, life had been dull. It was time for some excitement.

  It was time for a wagonload of excitement. He put his head down and let the wind cut past his face. For the first time in months, he came alive.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THERE’S NO DOUBT. Big Ear and his hunters passed here within the last day.” England Dan traced the moccasin outline in the dirt. He scooted along the ground on his knees and picked up a broken twig that one of the Mogollons had stepped on. Then he pointed to a bush with a limb torn off. “See how it’s still oozing sap? They might have passed through here within a few hours.”

  “Hours?” Cooley swallowed hard. His heart began pounding faster as he looked around. He rested his hand on his pistol, even if that wouldn’t get him too far. He had checked the load several times since leaving Oasis. Every time he had come up with three good rounds, three spent cartridges. Praying for the live rounds to multiply hadn’t worked for him.

  “Don’t worry. They’re heading north, and we’re going east. They’re back to hunting. If they bag a deer or two, they’ll dress it out and return to their tribe, wherever they’re camped.”

  “It might be in that direction,” Cooley said uneasily. He stared into the thick woods where England Dan had been leading them. The trees had been so dense in some places, they’d had to dismount. Cooley was tired of banging his head on low limbs and blundering through thickets rife with thorns. Mabel got feisty when he did, and it took a goodly while to pull the stickers from the mule’s legs.