by Paul Green
Ortega lay on his back, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. Harrison knelt down beside him and gently closed them. Maggie and Johnson were both tending to Gabriel, who was still alive. Harrison fetched him some water and pulled the detective’s coat aside to examine his wound. A stain was rapidly spreading across his stomach as blood pooled on the ground beside him. Maggie cradled his head in her lap and wiped the sweat from his deathly pale features with her handkerchief as Johnson tried in vain to stanch the wound. Gabriel took a sip from the canteen Harrison offered him and then coughed hoarsely. His voice was thin and reedy as he whispered to them. ‘It’s no use. I’m not going to make it.’
There was a desperate urgency in his rasping tone as Gabriel tried to continue. ‘Get the money … Fort Concho …Grierson.…’ He stopped for a moment as his breathing became more laboured, and then gripped Harrison’s lapel with surprising strength. He opened his mouth to speak again but the words died in his throat as he breathed his last in a long sigh.
‘Did that make any sense to either of you?’ Harrison asked his companions.
‘Colonel Grierson’s our commanding officer over at Fort Concho. I guess he would be the best person around here to take charge of the money,’ Johnson told him. ‘There’s a town there, place called San Angela. We head west and follow a trail through the Pecos Mountains. It’ll take us a few days to reach it though.’
Maggie laid a hand on Harrison’s arm. ‘It could be very dangerous, John. There’ll be outlaws and Comanches hiding out there.’
‘That’s why you’re going to wait for us over the border somewhere safe.’
‘No! Damn it, John, I can take care of myself and I can shoot pretty straight too!
‘I don’t doubt it but there’s no need—’
‘There’s every need! It’ll be much safer with three of us and you know it. You might as well give in now. I’ll only follow you anyway.’
Johnson chuckled as Harrison led out a sigh. ‘If you two don’t quit arguin’ like that you’ll have to get married.’
Maggie flushed red and looked down while Harrison picked up the shovel and busied himself digging a grave for Gabriel. Johnson pitched in and soon all the bodies were buried. They left Barton until last and used the pit in which he had hidden the cash as it seemed fitting, somehow. The strongbox contained paper money in wads of a $1,000 each which they divided up into equal piles and put into six small sacks they found in Gabriel’s saddle-bag. They watered their horses at a small creek near by, refilled their canteens and set off again across the baking desert, Johnson leading the way.
The Tenth Cavalry had only moved over to Fort Concho that year but Johnson already knew the territory well. As the afternoon wore on the sun settled over the peaks of the Pecos Mountains and all seemed peaceful, but Johnson warned them to remain on their guard. Harrison’s hooded eyes scanned the horizon, but he saw no signs of any danger and he relaxed slightly. The Comanches had no overall leader and were divided into many different bands. Not all had been defeated or settled on reservations and Harrison could not help admiring their spirit of resistance. Their lands had been taken and the spread of cattle ranching had almost obliterated their way of life. He could not blame them for fighting back.
It was late afternoon when they reached the start of the trail through the mountains that would eventually lead them to Fort Concho. On an escarpment high above, two men looked down on the tiny figures below. The elder of them peered through a telescope and described what he saw. ‘There are three of them. The one in front is a black but looks like a soldier. Then a gringo, dressed fancy, and a woman.’ His gaze lingered for a moment on Maggie Sloane and he grinned, showing a number of gold teeth.
‘Let me see, Pablo, it could be them,’ whispered Jorge urgently. His companion passed him the telescope and he peered through it eagerly. ‘Yes, that’s the sergeant in front with Harrison behind and she must be that Sloane woman.’ Jorge lowered the telescope slightly. ‘They’re carrying mailbags, so they’ve got the money. Quick, give me a rifle.’
Pablo placed a restraining hand on the younger man’s arm. ‘You could easily miss them from here and then they get a warning about us.’
‘We can’t just let them get away!’ protested Jorge.
Pablo paused to scratch his greying beard. ‘Jorge, my friend, you must learn to be more patient. That gringo Harrison is fast with the guns, no? I saw the graves when you took me to the old mine, which explains why only three are left.’ Pablo looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘We should keep following but stay out of sight. There are only the two of us, after all.’ He grinned again as he turned back to Jorge. ‘It was good luck you running into me, no?’
The orange sun dipped below the mountains as dusk fell. Wearily, Harrison and his companions made camp for the night. Harrison stretched out his aching limbs on a bedroll and looked across at Maggie, who was sitting up to take the first watch. He found himself thinking of her as he drifted off to sleep, hoping somehow that whatever his future held, she would be a part of it.
They were all up as the first streaks of dawn appeared in the sky, their movements observed by the two bandits high above them.
‘We could make things less risky for ourselves and more unpleasant for them,’ suggested Jorge. ‘See how they unpacked everything. They sleep with their mailbags close to them but the other things were piled up together just at the edge of the camp.’
The older man nodded and a grin spread across his swarthy features as Jorge described what he intended to do that night.
‘That’s very clever, amigo. Then, when they are weak, we will attack.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Harrison remained on edge throughout the day. He was somehow sure that they were being watched and he kept glancing up at the surrounding peaks for signs of movement. Once or twice he was sure he saw something but could not be sure.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Johnson told him. ‘There are paths up there where you could hide a column of infantry. If there are any bandits up there we won’t see them.’
‘There can’t be many. Otherwise they’d just attack us instead of skulking around.’
Maggie shivered despite the heat. ‘The sooner we get to Fort Concho the better.’
‘I reckon it should take about three days.’
‘Unless we run into more trouble,’ added Harrison.
They met no one on the road, although some worn tracks suggested a wagon train had passed along that way a few days before. The recent hostilities with the Comanche and Kiowa tribes as well as the activities of outlaws had made the area more dangerous, despite the existence of several forts to ensure the safe passage of travellers and their goods.
‘I wonder if old Fire-face Kinsella’s around here someplace?’ said Johnson at length.
‘Isn’t he that officer who’s been out here chasing Indians?’ asked Maggie.
‘Yeah, Captain Sean Kinsella. He sure is one mean dog but I’d like to run into him, anyhow. We’d be safe with him around.’
Harrison smiled to himself. Johnson’s description was an apt one since Kinsella had a reputation not only for courage and competence but also for intolerance of any dissent. The man was a formidable opponent both on and off the field: one they could do with on their side in the present circumstances. For the moment, however, they were alone in the desert and responsible for the safe return of a $100,000 in stolen money. It was a sobering thought.
As dusk fell once more they approached a cave and were glad of the opportunity to enjoy some shelter. Jorge and Pablo smiled as they observed them disappear inside. It would soon be time to carry out their plan.
Harrison piled up the saddle-bags near the mouth of the small cave, allowing everyone more space to stretch out, but they each kept a couple of mailbags stuffed with dollars beside them as they settled down to sleep. Maggie volunteered to stay on watch for a couple of hours before waking Harrison to take over. Johnson was already snoring as she tried to make herself comfo
rtable with a blanket around her shoulders and a rifle across her knees. After an hour she felt herself begin to doze but then she suddenly sat up with a start. Maggie was sure she had heard something, a faint rustling. Peering into the darkness, she thought she saw a shape move; she went over to the mouth of the cave to look outside. There was no one there and though her ears were straining she could not hear a sound. Shaking her head, she sat down again and silently cursed her vivid imagination.
Harrison awoke as the first light of dawn filtered into the cave. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up slowly. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. The others were stirring as he searched among their baggage for a canteen of water. Harrison found what he was looking for but frowned in puzzlement when he discovered that it was empty. On turning it over, he noticed a slit in the side of the container, which looked as though it had been made with a knife. Underneath were two more, both empty and each with a similar hole through which the water had seeped away. He knew there was another bottle but was unable to find it though he continued to search frantically.
Maggie came over to join him. ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked sleepily. Silently, he handed her the damaged canteens.
‘I really did hear something after all,’ she muttered, ‘but I can’t understand why anyone would do this. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘It makes perfect sense,’ Harrison told her. ‘We won’t last long out here without any water. It will be much easier to rob us once we’re too weak to put up a fight.’
‘We have got some water left.’ They turned around as Johnson held up the missing canteen. ‘I had it by me last night, but what’s left won’t last long.’
There was a long, uneasy silence as they each pondered what to do next. Then, suddenly, each heard the sound of hoofs in the distance, getting louder as they rapidly approached. Without a word, they all ran to the mouth of the cave.
‘Well, ain’t that a fine sight to see, Mr Harrison? That there’s the cavalry!’ Johnson was jumping up and down in excitement.
‘Are you sure? I can’t see their uniforms yet, just a cloud of dust.’
‘Yeah, I can just make out the formation.’
‘Really?’ Maggie asked Johnson excitedly, hardly daring to believe their luck.
‘I’ve never been surer of anything,’ he told her.
As the cloud came nearer, Harrison saw that the riders were nearly all ‘buffalo soldiers’, wearing blue tunics beneath the layer of dust which enfolded them. Johnson waved at the approaching column and the red bearded officer in command slowed his men to a halt.
‘Sergeant Eli Johnson, sir, of B Company, Tenth Cavalry.’
The officer acknowledged his salute. ‘Captain Sean Kinsella. This is D Company from the Ninth. What are you doing out here?’
Johnson gave an edited version of their adventures:
one in which Schmidt, Coley and Wilcox had all died bravely at the hands of the outlaws before the rest of them escaped and located the stolen money. ‘Sir, I thought it was best to get along to Fort Concho and hand the money over to Colonel Grierson, seein’ as it was him who hired Mr Gabriel to get it back for the army. Do I have your permission to proceed with the column?’
Kinsella nodded. ‘Yes, we’re on our way back there now.’ He turned his watchful, grey eyes towards Harrison. ‘I’m afraid your capture of Swift Eagle was in vain. The Comanches came back that night and launched another attack. They rescued him and killed about half the soldiers left before they were finally beaten off. We’ve been out here trying to hunt him down but …’ the captain shrugged as his words trailed off, but then he straightened up. ‘Still, you did well finding that money, Sergeant. We’re grateful to you too, Mr Harrison, and you, ma’am.’
‘We’re just glad the money’s in safe hands now,’ Maggie told him.
Kinsella ran his hand through a crop of wavy red hair. ‘Well, it will be once we get to the fort. So will you, ma’am, it’s not safe for any of you out here at the moment. We haven’t run into those Comanches but they’ll be around here somewhere, I guarantee it.’
‘Do you think they’re likely to attack?’ Harrison asked.
‘Maybe, depends on how many there are. You three on your own would stand no chance against them, that’s for certain.’
Jorge had always been a light sleeper and, hearing the approach of horsemen, he climbed down behind a boulder just above the cave. He heard enough to learn that Swift Eagle was free and that the soldiers had been looking for him. He knew of several places where the Comanches might be, since he had brought them guns and stolen horses many times in the past. Finding them would not be too difficult, but Harrison and his companions were now protected by about fifty soldiers. What might persuade Swift Eagle to attack them when the odds were not very favourable? He thought he might have the answer to that problem.
Jorge returned to their camp to find Pablo still snoring. He shook him awake. ‘We have to get moving,’ he told his companion and hurriedly packed their things away.
‘Why, what’s the big rush?’
Jorge told Pablo about Kinsella’s arrival. ‘Our three friends now have a cavalry escort to Fort Concho, so we can forget about attacking them today.’
‘Damn, we’ll never see that money now.’ The older man spat contemptuously.
‘Don’t be so sure. Those blue bellies are out here hunting the Comanches who attacked that trading station a few days ago. I used to trade with them, so they’ve had a lot of horses and guns from me in the past.’
Pablo sat up, suddenly hopeful. ‘Do they trust you?’
‘Sure they do. If I tell them that Kinsella was boasting about how he was going to wipe them out, Swift Eagle will want to attack them first.’
Pablo grinned as he tossed his blanket aside and got to his feet. ‘That’s good, real good. They won’t know what’s hit them.’
Jorge grinned back. ‘Then it will be tequila and señoritas for both of us eh?’
They were making steady progress along the trail. Johnson was in an ebullient mood now that he was back among fellow soldiers, Maggie felt safe and even Harrison was starting to relax. Perhaps their troubles really were at an end.
‘What will you do after we give the money to Colonel Grierson?’ Maggie asked him.
‘I think I’d like to take up law again, but I’m not sure where. Richmond has painful memories, but I’m tired of hunting desperate men, of having to kill or be killed.’
‘You’re looking for a quiet place where you can be at peace,’ she observed.
‘Yes, I suppose I am. Do you know of anywhere?’
Maggie smiled wistfully. ‘My two boys, Joshua and Ethan, are with my mother in San Antonio. It’s a beautiful city and the house overlooks the main square. I don’t know of any other place quite like it. That’s where I’ll be going.’
‘Was your husband from San Antonio?’
Maggie’s mouth twisted into a grimace. ‘Joel had no roots anywhere. He was always dreaming that one day he’d make a heap o’ money and he chased that dream wherever it took him ’til he ended up on the street in Brandon with Clay Barton’s bullet in him.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rake up the past. I should have remembered that you’re still grieving.’ Harrison shifted uneasily in his saddle.
Maggie shook her head vigorously. ‘No, I’m not. I got over him a long time ago, long before he died. Even our sons hated him, hated his drinking, his womanizing and his heavy hand with a belt. I only stayed with him out of fear, fear of what he might do if I tried to run away.’ The words were spoken quietly but clearly and decisively.
‘I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’
She turned to him then, her ocean blue eyes meeting his gaze. ‘That’s all right. I was just thinking that if San Antonio can bring me peace, it just might do the same for you.’
Harrison nodded slowly as he tried to appear nonchalant. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I’ll just tag along and see what the place has to
offer.’
It was nearly sundown by the time Jorge and Pablo found the Comanches’ hideout. As they approached, four men seized them and bound their hands.
‘You know me! I used to bring you horses and guns!’ Jorge protested, but the young warriors pushed them forward towards Swift Eagle’s tepee, saying nothing in reply. The war chief came out as they drew near and eyed them both suspiciously in the fading light.
‘I bring you news of your enemies. Do you want to hear it?’ Jorge asked him.
Swift Eagle nodded curtly. ‘Speak.’
‘Today I saw fifty buffalo soldiers led by a man called Kinsella. They are looking for your camp and hope to destroy you. The man who captured you at Jacob’s Well, Harrison, is with them and also the soldier who helped him. This is Pablo. He too is a friend of the Comanche and comes to bring you this warning.’
Swift Eagle gestured to one of the guards and their bonds were cut. ‘I know that there are soldiers. My scouts have seen their tracks. This Kinsella, does his face look like fire?’
Jorge thought for a moment, then he remembered the officer’s red beard. ‘Yes, he does. The hair on his head is like that too.’
‘I know he is fierce in battle. We must wait until more braves come before we fight.’
This was not the response they were hoping for. Pablo opened his mouth to speak but Jorge gestured to him to remain silent before he himself went on. ‘I heard him say that he will destroy you and all your people. He travels to Fort Concho as we speak to get more men and guns.’
‘Why do you come here to tell me this?’
‘Harrison killed my men and took my money, but I need your help to kill him. If you wait, Kinsella will only get more soldiers and grow in strength.’
Swift Eagle nodded slowly as he took in the Mexican’s words, then he handed him a stick. ‘Show me where you saw them,’ he demanded.
