"They wouldn't pass muster back at the regiment, but I guess they'll have to do," mused Sergeant Hawkins, looking over at the disparate collection of volunteers.
"Beggars can't be choosers," added Cooper as he checked his carbine before sliding it back into its holster on his saddle.
As expected Stone, Cyrus, Thomas, and eight young farmhands were coming along. Only Thomas was armed with a pistol. The other workers had never fired a weapon in their lives, so they carried an assortment of axes, machetes, and other sharpened tools. What surprised Cooper was the inclusion of Pastor Melancon, who had insisted on coming along with his Bible in one hand and a shotgun in the other. The other unexpected volunteer was his wife, Rose. She had changed out of her dress and into a pair of pants and a shirt. Like her husband, she carried a shotgun and looked like she knew how to use it. Cooper had initially objected to her riding with them, but when the pastor pointed out that Rose had been a nurse during the war, he dropped his reservations. He knew things could turn deadly in the blink of an eye; having someone along who knew how to deal with gunshot wounds might be the difference between life and death.
The last person to arrive was Sheriff Owens, who was less than enthused when he saw the farmhands saddling up their horses.
Cooper walked over, took hold of Owens' arm and led him away from the rest of the group. "Okay, Sheriff, let's quit wasting one another's time, shall we. I take it you know precisely where Maclean's camp is, don't you?"
Owens hesitated for a moment as if trying to decide if he should answer the question. A second later, he nodded and said, "Yeah. I do."
"Good. Where is it?"
"They hide out at an old farm in the bayou that used to belong to the Norris family until they decided to move to Texas. We used to go there as kids."
"Do you know how many men there are in Maclean's gang?"
"With two already gone, I'd say no more than five or six. You, of course, have assembled a fine fighting force. Let's see now, you've got a bunch of colored farmhands, none of whom are carrying any guns, along with a preacher, and his wife. I'd applaud you, Captain, if I had two hands to do it with."
Cooper ignored the sheriff's flippant remarks. "How long will it take us to ride there?"
"I know a route he won't be expecting us to use. If the river isn't too high, it shouldn't take us more than a few hours to get there."
Cooper looked up at the sun. It was already dipping low in the sky. "Do you think you can you get us to within a mile of the place before the sun goes down? I'd like to surprise Maclean and his people at first light tomorrow morning."
"If we get going in the next few minutes, I don't see why not."
Cooper let go of the sheriff's arm. "Very well, you can lead with Hawkins riding behind you."
"I take it you don't trust me."
"Would you?"
Owens shook his head. "There ain't a man alive I trust with my life, Captain."
Cooper walked to Stone's side. "We need to get moving. I'd like Thomas to handle his people. As they're not armed, I want them to ride at the back of the column."
Stone nodded. "I'll have Pastor Melancon and his wife ride with them so he can torture them and not us with passages from the good book."
Cooper chuckled. He was growing to respect Stone. He brought up his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle. When all eyes were on him, Cooper called out, "Mount up, we ride in one minute."
With Owens and Hawkins in the lead, the small column of riders rode past the old slave quarters. Teary-eyed wives and children of the workers stood and waved at their loved ones, not knowing if they would ever see them again. The men smiled and waved back. The group rode through a grassy field before disappearing one by one into the thick forest surrounding the plantation.
Two hours passed before Owens raised his hand and brought the group to a halt. The sun was already dipping below the tops of the trees, sending long finger-like shadows across the ground.
Cooper asked Owens. "Is this the spot?"
"Yeah. Maclean's camp is no more than a mile off to the east."
Cooper looked at the wide river separating them from the far bank. "I take it we'll have to cross the river in the morning?"
Owens nodded, got off his horse, and walked over to a moss-covered hut. He took a step inside and dragged a dugout canoe out into the open. "There's two more of them here. We used to use them to go fishing with when we were younger. You'll have to leave a couple of the coloreds behind to look after the horses while we proceed on foot."
Cooper didn't like the idea of leaving the horses behind, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. To backtrack and go a different route would waste a day. He had placed his faith in Owens' judgment and would have to live with the consequences.
"Set up camp," said Cooper to the rest of the riders.
It didn't take long for a couple of roaring fires to get going. The party split into two groups. Thomas and the farmhands sat around one of the fires while the rest of the men and Rose got comfortable at the other. Pastor Melancon soon had a hearty beef stew simmering in an iron pot while Cyrus made a pot of coffee over the open flames.
Cooper sat with his back resting against a tree while he wiped down his Spencer repeater carbine. He had waited until Hawkins had cleaned and reassembled his Colt .45 pistol to clean his own weapon. Cooper had learned the hard way during the war to have one of them armed and ready to fight at all times.
"So what's your plan in the morning, Captain?" asked Stone.
"We'll leave the two youngest men behind to look after the horses while the rest of us cross the river," explained Cooper. "After that, we'll march on Maclean's camp and surround it as best we can. I'm going to give Sheriff Owens a chance to try and talk Maclean into surrendering. If that fails, we'll force him and his men to surrender their weapons and come with us back to Williamstown where they can be questioned."
"Don't forget, none of them have been formally charged with anything yet," said Owens. "They're all innocent men in the eyes of the law, regardless how some of you people might feel."
"Innocent!" blurted out Stone. "I saw what those bastards did to my nephew and Miss Willow. Not to mention the two young people who were taken from their home at Mercy Plantation in the middle of the night and the man they hung for no reason a few weeks back. Don't you dare to speak to me of their innocence, Sheriff."
"The law is the law, Mister Stone, even if you don't agree with it. I don't have a signed warrant from a judge to arrest any of them. Like Captain Cooper said, we need to bring them in alive for questioning. Nothing more."
"I say we hang them all out here and leave their bodies for the crows."
"Sir, we can't take the law into our own hands," said Cooper to Stone. "The day we do, we become no better than Maclean and his people. He has to be brought to trial-and then hung."
"What if they open fire on us?" asked Cyrus.
"Then we fire back," replied Cooper. "If they want a fight, we'll give them one."
"Captain, what about Thomas and his men, what will they do if we get into a fight?" asked Stone.
"I'll instruct him to keep his men back from the firing line. I want them to keep anyone from fleeing or reinforcing the camp."
"I'm a man of God, not a soldier, but your plan sounds like it might work," said the pastor.
"Thanks," replied Cooper. "Also, there's no harm in you and your wife saying a few prayers tonight to the Almighty to watch over us tomorrow."
"We'll make sure to speak with the Lord and put the bug in his ear before we lay our heads down."
"That we will," added Rose.
Cooper stood and tossed the dregs of his cup onto the ground. He looked at Stone and said, "I wonder if I might have a word with you."
"Certainly," replied Stone. He got up to his feet. Together, the two men walked out of earshot of the rest of the group. "What's on your mind, Captain?"
"I'm curious, why didn't you go after Maclean after the deaths of the two young peo
ple? The folks we have out here are almost all from your plantation. What held you back?"
"A good question, Captain. And one that deserves an honest answer. Trust me, I thought long and hard about going after Maclean but I'm not a fighting man like you and Sergeant Hawkins. I may have a bit of a temper, but I haven't been in a fight since I was a child. I knew if I let my anger guide me, I'd be leading my men to almost certain disaster. I needed someone like you to come along to lead us. With you and Hawkins here I know we can put an end to Maclean's murderous reign."
"Sir, I can't guarantee tomorrow won't end in bloodshed. Some of your men, including you, could be killed if they decide to put up a fight."
"So be it. At least, we will have given it our best shot."
Cooper looked into Stone's eyes. "Sometimes your best isn't good enough. Let's hope things work in our favor in the morning or we're in for a long and bloody day."
A couple of hours later, after they had eaten their supper meal, they began to unroll their blankets and got ready to sleep. Sergeant Hawkins had organized a sentry roster and he was first up. He patrolled the perimeter of their camp with his carbine resting between his powerful arms.
A thin fog crept up off the river and enveloped the countryside. The temperature soon began to drop.
Cooper stood up and stretched out his legs before walking off into the woods to relieve himself one last time before getting some shuteye.
"Be careful, Captain, don't you wander too far from the fire or the Rougarou will get you," said one of Thomas' men as Cooper walked past their fire.
He chuckled and went about his business. When he returned, Cooper noticed the young man who had given him the warning was watching him intently. The farmhand had his hands wrapped tight around an ax handle.
"See, there was no need to worry. I made it back in one piece."
"Yeah, but is you who you say you are?" asked the man.
"Of course he is, Cole," said Thomas. "You're Captain Cooper, ain't you?"
Cooper could see the fear in the eyes of the youth and in Thomas' voice. He smiled at them both, "Aye, I am Captain Robert Cooper of the United States Army. Now, why don't you both get some rest, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Cooper walked back to his fire and took a seat. He looked over at Pastor Melancon, who was humming a song to himself while he cleaned the blackened dinner pot. "One of Thomas' men gave me a mistrustful look when I walked past his fire. Pastor, before coming to Mercy Plantation had you ever heard of a Rougarou?"
Melancon smiled. "Yes. It's a made-up story to get young colored children to behave. If a child is being bad, his mother will say go to bed now or the Rougarou will come and get you. I don't know where the legend comes from but it's strongest among the Cajun communities."
"That young man's mother was probably of Haitian descent," added Rose. "There was a lot of mixing of the slaves from the nearby plantations before the war. The DuBois plantation has many former slaves who can trace their family lineage back to Haiti."
"The men are on edge," said Melancon. "I honestly can't blame them. Most of them have never been this far away from the plantation. Put yourself in their shoes. To them, the world is a dark and dangerous place. Until recently they were property who could be sold or traded away at the whim of their slave master. Barely one in twenty can read and write. They grew up on stories told at night around a fire of people who would become a wolf when the moon is high in the sky and hunt down slaves to eat."
"Like tonight," said Cyrus, grinning as he pointed up at the silvery moon as it came out from behind a dark cloud.
"Great bedtime story, Pastor," said Cooper as he laid down on his blanket and pulled his hat over his face.
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