The Trek: Darwin's World, Book II (The Darwin's World Series 2)

by Jack L Knapp

  "It is not so bad, Señor Matt. Ernesto and I have fallen several times. But we don't fall so often now. Soon we will not fall."

  Matt accepted the boost and found himself astride the horse. Holding the rein in his right hand, he soon realized that it felt unnatural. Gingerly he leaned forward and passed the rein under the horse's neck. Sitting upright again, rein in his left hand and with the hank of mane hair in his right, he squeezed the horse's barrel with his knees. The stallion obediently walked forward.

  Matt grinned and gripped tighter. A second, tighter squeeze that placed his heels slightly back from the centerline caused the horse to lift into a trot.

  Matt felt jolted every time a hoof met the ground. Gently he pulled the rein away from the horse's neck and tugged on it. Obediently, the stallion turned left. Matt slipped momentarily but regained his balance. Bringing the hackamore rein into contact with the neck and pressing with his heel caused the horse to veer right. The habits formed during his riding efforts a long time ago were coming back.

  Matt rode the stallion around the corral, going left, then right, then left again. Periodically he stopped the horse and started again. The horse patiently endured the heel pressures and tugs.

  Finally Matt knew it was time to try galloping. He thumped his heels into the horse's barrel and the horse lunged forward. Matt was ready and swayed backward, but when he reined the horse left, the turn came much faster than expected. Matt slipped and began falling. Reacting rapidly, he released the grip his legs had attempted to maintain and pushed away. Sprawling on the dirt of the churned corral, Matt shook his head and regained his feet.

  The stallion had rejoined the mares.

  Some adjustment would be required. Matt understood that turns would likely not be as rapid once the horse was outside the corral. He thought he could stay on the horse's back during a canter; in any case, he could make a lot better time than a raiding party could, trying to haul Tex with them.

  A thought occurred. Would Tex try to slow the raiders down? If he became too great an annoyance, would they simply kill him?

  Matt would have preferred more riding practice, much more practice. But time was critical. The sooner pursuit got underway, the better. Laz had joined the spectators, so it was time to take a break and see what he'd learned. Lee was back too, now carrying two extra quivers filled with arrows.

  "Pretty good, Matt. Except for that last dismount!"

  "You'll get your chance, Lee, after we get back. Laz, what did you find?"

  "They were dragging Tex at first. I followed them for about a mile and Tex had started walking by then. I can't tell if the people who were dragging Tex...his toes left a skid between two sets of tracks...were part of the raiders or maybe captives. But there are probably at least ten of them. Only two came into camp and grabbed Tex; the rest hid about a quarter mile away. They headed southeast, a little more south than southeast."

  "That’s probably enough information. I think I can find them if I head that way. I'll take a swing due south for about five miles, then swing over east and see if I spot movement. Lee, you bring the rest of the pursuit and keep on their trail. Be careful; they might try to ambush you. They don't always depend on speed to get away, they are prepared to fight too. I suspect they’re more prepared than the people they grab."

  "Understood, Matt. We're leaving right now. Your weapons are here and we'll look for you down the trail."

  "Are you taking food and water?"

  "Water only. We shouldn't be gone more than a day at most. I think we'll catch up to them in half a day or less."

  "Understood. See you, Lee." With that, Lee led his group of seven men south. As soon as they left the camp, Lee broke into a jog. The rest followed, strung out at first as the men found their place in the column. In a moment only dust showed where they'd trotted away.

  #

  Matt decided he was loose enough and the horse had become accustomed to his weight. Rein held in his left hand, both hands on the horse's neck and with the right hand grasping the same clump of mane he'd held before, he jumped. His right leg lifted, carrying him over the horse’s back, knees gripping as he settled to cushion his descent. Matt would have grinned in delight had the occasion been less serious.

  Sal handed Matt his weapons. He slung his quiver in its usual place, hung the bow across his back, then arranged the two spare quivers across the front of the pad he was sitting on. But there was no place for the spear, and finally he understood that he'd have to leave it behind. Even his faithful axe was problematic; the handle hung down and tended to rest against the horse. As soon as the horse began moving, that handle would thump against its ribs, one of the problems with carrying the spear. Matt handed the axe over to Sal, who put the axe and spear together and waved as Matt signaled José to open the fence. Taking a deep breath, Matt rode out of the corral. José closed the gap behind him.

  #

  Colin watched him go, then turned to Piotr.

  "You take care of security. Organize whoever you've got left, but I'm going to talk to everyone. No foraging parties, no hunting parties until Lee and Matt get back. I want everyone to stay in camp until this is settled. Have Lilia see what she can do, assigning the women to help with security. We've got enough food, there's water right here, so we'll just wait until the others get back."

  Piotr nodded. "Sounds good, Colin. I would have been stretched pretty thin, trying to cover everyone. Even using the women, I'd have had to choose whether to provide enough guards for people gathering vegetables or keep enough around to protect the camp. Hunting wouldn't have needed security...the hunters can protect themselves...but having hunters away would mean there were fewer people in camp. It will be a lot easier if everyone's together."

  "We're not helpless. Everyone here, except for the new people, is well armed and has had at least a little training. They fought too, when Pavel tried to raid us. Most fought at the ridge battle too, so it won’t be their first time shooting at people. Do you have enough weapons for the people Lee brought in?"

  "We have extra spears, we can give one to everyone. We'll need a lot more arrows and I'll need to make bows. I'll use the new people to help with that. Matt and I already talked about using more people for the arming work. I can show them how to use a spear, let them practice half-speed with a spear shaft until they've got the hang of using a long weapon. By the time Matt gets back, the new people will know how to use a spear and I'll be working on bows and arrows for them."

  "Sounds good, Piotr. You've come a long way since Pavel left."

  "I had a long way to go, Colin. I had a lot of help from Matt and Lee."

  #

  Matt rode carefully, watching the horse's ears for any indication the animal might decide to change course unbidden. So far, the horse seemed docile, appearing to enjoy the freedom of being outside the corral.

  Matt's confidence increased but he understood that overconfidence might result in a fall. A mishap might allow the raiders to escape with their captive. His task was too important to take unnecessary chances; there would be riding opportunities after they got Tex away safely.

  Reining the horse gently, he guided it south. A few minutes later he decided the time was right. Lifting the rein and squeezing with his heels, he coaxed the stallion into a canter. Behind him, the camp faded into the distance.

  Chapter 32

  Lee was able to keep a fast pace while following the tracks.

  The drag marks were no longer visible; Tex had apparently recovered enough to walk on his own. Still, the raiders had made no effort to conceal their tracks, depending instead on speed and knowledge that any chase would mean a fight. And there was no guarantee that the captives would survive the fight. It had been deterrent enough, until now.

  The band and their captive might have begun trotting, but the tracks were not clear; Tex's tracks had merged with the others. Likely, he was ahead and some or most of the armed warriors followed in the rear. Should there be any attempt to rescue the pris
oners, the warriors would be in position to prevent that...or add more victims to the one they already held.

  But while the raiders were moving, they weren't setting ambushes. Lee pushed on as fast as he could.

  #

  Two hours later he crested a small hill and came upon a confused mass of tracks. There had been a fight of some sort here. Two bloody splotches showed where men had been injured. But there were no bodies, so the casualties were still with the group. If this had been Matt's doing, he was smart. Dead raiders might have been left behind, but wounded men would be taken along. The raiding party would also be slowed by helping the injured.

  "Spread out, but keep your eyes peeled. See if you can tell what happened here."

  At Lee's command, the men, bows ready, melted into the slight cover and vanished from sight. They returned moments later.

  "Nothing, Lee. I think Matt shot a couple of them and took off, but they kept going as soon as he stopped shooting. I expect he'll hit them again a mile or so south of here. Maybe he'll go two or three miles, knowing they'll have to be going slow; they’ll be expecting him to hit them again. They'll be careful."

  "Maybe they don't know we're back here, Laz. If they think someone from our camp has gotten ahead of them, they'll be worried about their front, not what’s coming up from behind."

  "I'm glad Matt's on our side!"

  Lee nodded and took a short drink from his gourd. Looking around, others were doing the same. Replacing the stopper, he put the gourd away and walked after the raiders. The others fell in behind him and soon he resumed trotting.

  #

  The stallion was gone.

  Matt had left him tied to a scrubby cedar tree when he ambushed the raiders. Returning, he had hurried up to the stallion and the horse had sensed his excitement. It danced away and Matt tugged on the hackamore. The horse braced his front hooves and Matt yanked on the rein.

  Alarmed, the stallion had reared and suddenly Matt was holding only the rein. The horse spun on its rear hooves and galloped away, taking Matt's two reserve quivers with it. Matt spared a glance at the rein...broken...then slipped into deeper cover. It was too late now to worry about the horse. Matt shook his head ruefully and dropped the broken rein.

  Now he was alone, and he had only ten arrows remaining in his quiver. Those arrows and his knife were his only weapons. Would they be enough?

  He could choose to ambush the raiding party again, but this time he would need to shoot from a greater distance. Muscles left sore and stiff from the unaccustomed exercise of riding might slow him, and if the remaining raiders understood that he was alone and decided to chase him instead of fleeing, Matt would be in serious trouble.

  #

  Don Alfonso realized that his chances of taking more captives now were slim. The small villages, widely separated, had devised means of warning others when raids happened. They used smoke signals when the weather permitted and always there were the drums. They'd have carried word to the other villages and people would be hiding or forted up behind such defenses as they could cobble together.

  This was why he'd followed the ones who’d escaped after that brief fight. He’d picked up two others during a short side trip, but still...

  The villagers would be wary, remaining near their homes or with friends. If he failed to catch the escapees, he'd be forced to go home with very little to show for this raid.

  The raiders had never intended to fight; it was much easier to lie in wait, pick up one or two, then get away before there could be pursuit...if indeed anyone did decide to follow.

  But three of his men were now dead, two immediately and one who’d died a day after the fight. The wounded man had slowed the raiders just enough and the fleeing hunters had gotten far ahead. Worse, they'd joined another group of people who were camped along the river.

  Don Alfonso and three of his men had sneaked into position near the camp. They watched while Don Alfonso tried to decide what to do. And then Tex, still not recovered from his fight with Matt, had stumbled near to where they waited. He'd bent over and vomited.

  As he straightened up a hard-swung club sent him to his knees. While the leader and his second-in-command watched the camp to see if they'd been spotted, the other two lifted Tex by his arms and dragged him away. The leader had walked behind them, watching over his shoulder. But he saw no one looking, and soon he turned. Taking the place of one of the men carrying Tex, he slung his arm around Tex's waist and the small party made better time.

  Tex was soon walking, stumbling from time to time but on his feet by the time they rejoined the raiding party. It had taken only a moment to attach Tex to the long strap they used to tie captives together.

  And then had come those arrows. Two more of his men were wounded and others were occupied with helping them limp along.

  Who could have done it? Had there been someone following him when they went north after the hunters? Could anyone from the camp they'd just left have gotten far enough ahead to ambush the raiders?

  No, it was not possible. True, they'd not made good time after picking up the injured man, but if someone had come from the camp they'd have had to circle wide to get in position without being seen. And manage to do this in less than half a day? No, impossible.

  Impossible or not, someone was ahead of them. The raiders had seen no one. Just the two arrows they'd cut from the wounded men, only those. The arrows might have come from a ghost!

  Not a ghost; but whoever it was, he was still out there somewhere. Having successfully attacked and gotten away, he would do it again.

  The leader briefly considered whether he should simply abandon the captives. Already there was little enough profit to show for this trip. And there were the losses; would others come with him when next he decided to raid north, or would they abandon him to follow more successful captains? Don Alfonso's past successes would mean little; people would remember only this last trip, the disastrous one.

  But not yet; perhaps the unknown archer would be afraid. He might not try again, and if he did the men would be ready. The leader took a few moments to quietly pass on instructions to his men.

  "He may have run away. But if he shoots again, look for where the arrow came from. Spread out and charge in that direction, but try to keep cover between you and his hiding place. There can only be one, or at least only one with a bow. If there were many they would have fought us instead of shooting two arrows and running away.

  "How has he done this when we've been unable to? Our bows are light, barely more than toys. But that man put arrows into two men and they were buried up to the nocks! Still, if he waits in hiding and tries again, we'll be ready. I will sell him to the mines!"

  "We've only captured three, Don Alfonso. I say we turn them loose. If he wants them that bad, he can have them. It's not worth dying over. What if the bowman is one of those headchoppers?"

  The leader winced. He'd heard about the mysterious headchoppers too.

  "Let's not panic. The headchoppers are many miles to the east of here.

  "We're heading south and we're on a low ridge. If that bowman is going to hit us again, he must stay on the ridge too. We can surround him as soon as the slopes get a little steeper, and add him to the ones we've already taken or kill him. The only cover is on top of the ridge so he can't hide forever. If he descends the slope, we will see him."

  "Sell the bastard to that miner, Don Alfonso. He won't last long in the lead mine!"

  "First we've got to catch him. Then we can decide where to sell him!"

  #

  Matt too had noticed the ridgeline. It hadn't seemed important while he still had the horse, but now the ridge crest forced him to stay far ahead of the raiders while he looked for a way off the ridge, someplace where he could hit the raiders again yet still manage to escape. Turning away, he ran south, dodging around trees, trying to make distance as fast as possible.

  There would be a better place for an ambush. Meantime, the captives and the injured would slow t
he raiders; they could travel only as fast as the slowest member of their group. The raiding party wasn't going anywhere; they were forced to stay on the ridge too. If they decided to head downhill, Matt would have the advantage of high ground and cover. He could hit them with impunity. And they'd be slowed if they tried to attack uphill, essentially stationary targets he could pick off at his leisure.

  For now, he had only to stay ahead of the raiders and look for a favorable terrain feature. Side ridges ran off from this one; perhaps he could find one that would work.

  And he must not become too bold. There were other dangers, predatory animals, even another raiding party. A turned ankle, a foot placed wrong, the smallest thing could lead to disaster. Matt knew where one group of enemies was, but that wasn't the same as knowing where all the dangers lay!

  #

  Tex had understood immediately when the two raiders suddenly sprouted arrows. Somehow, Matt or Lee had gotten ahead of the snatch party. Not both; the two, if together, might simply have stood their ground, weakened the raiders, then come in to finish them off with spears. He considered whether one might have tried riding his horse and dismissed the idea. He, Tex, would have done that, but no one else could have.

  Still, just knowing that someone was out there was enough. Tex's head throbbed from the combined effects of the fight and the club the raider had used to silence him, but at least his vision had cleared. Tex was thinking of ways he might slow the raiding party even more.

  A rawhide band had been looped around his neck and attached to a thicker strap. This heavy strap led forward and each of the other captives had been attached to it in similar fashion. The strap was quite long, obviously intended for as many slaves as could be taken during a raid lasting a month or more. The length of the strap might be turned to advantage. Tex kept walking, trying to go slow but still avoid a beating. The leather strap they used to encourage speed left painful welts!

  #

  Lee too understood the tactical meaning of the ridgeline. He stopped briefly and divided his party, keeping three and assigning a pair to go left and another right.