by Paul Green
Jorge sketched the shape of the mountains in the dirt, the road with the location of the troops marked by a stick figure on horseback and a line from it tracing the route to the camp.
Swift Eagle spoke solemnly. ‘We will attack Fire-face and his soldiers tomorrow. You will ride with us and take what is yours from Harrison.’
They both nodded their agreement, not caring that Swift Eagle had been deceived about Kinsella’s intentions. Soon the two bandidos would be enjoying a life of luxury, far away from the Comanches and their battles with the army.
CHAPTER NINE
The sound of the bugle awoke him and Harrison tossed his blanket aside with a groan. Then he heard another sound, the thunder of galloping hoofs accompanied by a Comanche war cry. He turned and saw the rapidly approaching band of warriors mounted on their distinctive pinto horses. A figure in a horned buffalo-scalp helmet was among them; it could only be Swift Eagle, proudly wearing the headdress of a war chief. Half-dressed soldiers leaped to their feet, reaching for their weapons in panic as the first shower of arrows rained down upon them. Harrison saw one man aim with his pistol and then fall dead to the ground before he had even fired a shot. Others were also being hit, but Johnson and another sergeant were quickly getting the troops organized into groups and were directing their fire. Kinsella emerged from a tent, his tunic unbuttoned and a revolver in each hand as he shouted orders.
The Comanches were riding through the camp now, throwing spears and firing off arrows to the right and left of them. Every soldier was armed and firing back by this time, and a few warriors tumbled from their horses to the ground. Harrison joined the fight, shooting down three of them in quick succession as they rode towards him. The next few minutes were a blur of gunshots, painted faces and rearing hoofs as he continued firing while trying to get across to a supply wagon where he could take cover. He heard a scream from behind him and turned around to see a Comanche trying to pull Maggie on to his horse. Harrison aimed and squeezed his trigger but there was just an empty click. There was no time to reload and he set off at a sprint.
Fortunately, Maggie put up more of a fight than the warrior expected and he was leaning over in the saddle as she tried to pull away. Harrison leaped the last few feet and smashed into him with the full force of his weight. The horse stumbled and the Comanche was pulled to the ground as Maggie scrambled for safety. He was strong, however and sent Harrison sprawling with a hard punch. His eyes blazing, the buckskinned warrior drew his knife and moved in for the kill. Harrison looked around frantically for a weapon and then grabbed a saucepan from over a campfire just by him. The scalding contents caught his opponent in the face and his hands went up to his eyes as he screamed in pain. Now the knife was on the ground between them and Harrison seized his chance. He picked it up and plunged the blade into the Comanche’s stomach, twisting it as he did so. He jumped over the crumpled body and found Maggie huddled by a tent, clutching a pistol.
‘Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.’ Taking her by the hand, he hurried over to the wagon and then dropped down behind it with her by his side. Quickly, he reloaded both his revolvers and then checked Maggie’s weapon too. Peering around the side, he saw that the Comanches were now in retreat and the fighting had died down. Then, frowning, he noticed something else, or rather, someone else. It was Jorge! What was he doing here? He was on horseback, firing at soldiers with his revolver but he also appeared to be looking for something, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Harrison came out from behind the wagon and fired but his shot missed. The Mexican saw that his companions were in retreat and wheeled his horse around to gallop after them. Harrison fired after him but the bandit was now out of range and he cursed loudly.
‘They’re going, shouldn’t we be pleased?’
‘They’ll be back, Maggie. The Comanches don’t like to risk too many losses at once, so they’ll return when they think they have the advantage again.’
Their conversation was interrupted as Kinsella approached them. ‘That was good shooting, Mr Harrison. Are you both all right?’
‘Yes, we’re not injured,’ Harrison told him. ‘What are we going to do now?’
Kinsella stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘Ideally, I’d like to keep moving, but the trail narrows up ahead for the next few miles. If they attack us there we could be trapped. Our position here is easier to defend, though.’
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
Kinsella made a sweeping gesture with his arm. ‘We’re moving some of the wagons around to build a barricade. We could use an extra pair of hands to help with that.’
Harrison nodded. ‘Consider it done.’
‘Thanks. We’ll need to move the water, food and ammunition supplies well behind the barricade so the Comanches can’t get at them.’
‘They’ll probably try to chase off our horses as well.’
‘You’re right about that. I’ll get some of the troop mounted to engage them, move the other horses further back and assign some men to guard them.’
It did not take long to organize the defences and Harrison was soon settled down behind one of the wagons with Johnson and a few other men. Maggie was with them, a box of ammunition by her side as she helped to check and load their weapons.
‘Did you see our old friend Jorge out there with the Comanches?’ Johnson asked.
‘I took a shot at him but missed.’
‘That’s a shame. He won’t quit ’til he gets his hands on that money. I saw another Mexican with ’em too, an older fat fella. He could be in this too.’
‘There’s not much they can do if we fight them off,’ said Maggie.
Johnson shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. They’ll hook up with some other gang if they have too. Jorge don’t know when to quit.’
‘I wonder if they were the ones who stole our water?’ she replied.
Harrison rubbed his chin. ‘That would make sense. I’ll be watching out for Jorge and his sidekick when they come back.’
The Comanches had regrouped a couple of miles away. ‘The fire faced one fought well,’ observed Swift Eagle. ‘Nine braves were killed.’
‘They lost far more,’ said Jorge encouragingly. ‘Your next attack will destroy them.’
‘They will be ready. They have the wool hair and dark skin of the buffalo. They are fierce when they have been angered.’
‘You are right, Swift Eagle, but you have always hunted the buffalo, no? You can hunt these ones too. I saw our enemy, Harrison. He hides behind them and laughs at us.’
‘You must learn patience in battle. We will attack when it is time.’
Their conversation was interrupted by a scream. One of the soldiers had been captured and lay bound and stripped to the waist as a warrior applied a heated knife to his skin. Pablo stood watching with interest.
‘You could humble Kinsella and Harrison without attacking them,’ Jorge suggested.
Swift Eagle frowned. ‘How can this be?’
‘They are carrying bags of money to Fort Concho. Tell them they will not be attacked if they give this money up. If they obey out of fear, you will have shamed them.’
Swift Eagle shook his head. ‘Fire-face will not obey.’
Jorge shrugged. ‘Then you can attack him anyway.’
Swift Eagle nodded his assent and Jorge dropped down on one knee beside their captive. A layer of flesh had been removed from his forearm and he was grimacing with pain.
‘Listen, amigo. We will spare your life if you take this message to Kinsella. If he gives up the money he is carrying, there will be no more fighting. Otherwise you will all die. Harrison must bring the money here by sundown and he must come alone.’
The soldier nodded weakly and was cut loose before being pulled to his feet by Pablo and helped on to a horse. The two outlaws watched him canter away. ‘Once I have the money, I will crush Harrison like a worm,’ Jorge muttered.
His companion nodded approvingly. ‘That’s right, amigo. A man’s got
ta know how to hate his enemies.’
The tension was mounting as Kinsella and his men awaited the next attack. They were all on edge, straining their ears to hear the pounding of hoofs or a distant war cry, but there was only silence. Then a lone rider approached and as he came nearer Harrison saw that he slouched in the saddle. Kinsella came running forward as a guard seized the horse’s bridle and steadied its rider, who seemed on the point of collapse.
‘It’s Corporal Burgess, sir. It looks like he’s been hurt pretty bad.’
Kinsella lifted the man down himself and carried him over to a tent which was being used to treat the wounded. Harrison watched as they disappeared inside and began to wonder why the Comanches had released him.
‘I dread to think what they did to that poor man,’ said Maggie, shaking her head.
‘He’s lucky he ain’t dead. The Comanches are sending a message,’ Johnson told her.
A few minutes later Kinsella emerged from the tent and strode towards them. ‘Mr Harrison, come with me please. This concerns you.’
Harrison followed the officer into the tent where he saw Burgess lying unconscious on a bench. An orderly was tending his left arm from which almost half the skin had been burned away. ‘Before he passed out, the corporal gave me a message from a Mexican who was riding with the Comanches. You’re to bring that payroll money, alone, to them by sundown or they’ll attack again. Do you know this man?’
‘Jorge Gonzales-Ortega is the son of the bandit leader Johnson told you about. He knows about the money and he’s manipulating the Comanches’ grievances in order to get it.’
Kinsella shook his head. ‘We can’t give in to blackmail but if there’s some way we can fool them, would you be willing to help?’
‘If it will save lives, certainly. Where are the Comanches now?’
‘Burgess said they’re about two miles away on a slope above the trail. They can see what’s coming and it’s a steep climb to get up there, so there’s no point trying to attack.’
Harrison thought for a moment. ‘Do you have any gunpowder?’
‘We keep some in the supply wagon. It comes in handy sometimes.’
‘Good. This is what I suggest we do.’ Harrison outlined his plan as Kinsella listened.
‘You’re taking a big risk but it might just work. I’d send someone with you but that would only make them suspicious.’
Harrison nodded. ‘I understand, Captain.’ Then he handed the officer his pocket watch. ‘If I don’t come back, please give this to Maggie Sloane.’
The preparations did not take long and he was ready to leave within an hour. As he finished loading the packhorse he heard a voice behind him.
‘Weren’t you going to say goodbye?’
He turned to face her. ‘I’ll come back soon, Maggie. There’s nothing to worry about.’
She shook her head. ‘Whatever you’re doing, it must be dangerous. Please be careful.’
‘I will,’ Harrison assured her. ‘Now get back behind those wagons where it’s safe.’
Johnson appeared as she turned to go. ‘I figure you might need some help.’
‘I appreciate it and there’s no one else I’d rather have to guard my back, but this is something I have to do alone.’ As the sergeant opened his mouth to protest he added, ‘That’s an order from Captain Kinsella.’
‘Good luck,’ said Johnson, extending a hand towards him.
‘Thanks. If I don’t come back, it’s been good to know you.’ He shook the sergeant’s hand warmly, then swung himself into the saddle and rode out to meet the Comanches.
Jorge peered through his telescope as the rider approached, leading a packhorse behind him. ‘It’s Harrison. See how he hurries to his death.’ He passed the instrument to Pablo on his left while Swift Eagle stood beside him on the right, watching impassively.
‘If he has brought the white man’s money, it is enough. He is not to be harmed.’ The Comanche spoke sharply. ‘We keep our promises. They are not broken like treaties.’
The two outlaws nodded reluctantly. At least they would have $100,000 to spend. Jorge watched as Harrison drew to a halt. ‘Unload the bags and open them!’ he called.
Harrison carried the three mailbags he had brought with him to the foot of the cliff and untied the knot at the top of each one. Jorge examined them through the telescope and smiled as he spotted the wads of cash. Then something unexpected happened. The bounty hunter stood back from the cliff and called out, ‘Swift Eagle! Come down, I want to talk to you.’
‘Don’t listen to that gringo, it’s a trick!’ hissed Jorge.
Harrison opened his coat. ‘Look, I’m unarmed. Please, I just want to talk.’
Ignoring Jorge’s protestations, the Comanche dismounted and climbed nimbly down to the path below. When he arrived Harrison dismounted and the two men faced each other.
‘Tell me, what made you decide to attack the column?’ Harrison asked.
‘Our friends told us that Fire-face was here with his men to hunt us down and destroy us, but you know this, you were with them.’
Harrison casually lit a cigar and drew on it. ‘It is true that Captain Kinsella had been looking for you, but when you attacked the column he’d given up and was on his way back to Fort Concho. Jorge and his friend have been lying to you.’
Swift Eagle stiffened. ‘I only know of white men’s lies. Why should I believe you?’
Harrison pointed to the sacks with his cigar. ‘Look underneath that money.’
The Comanche’s eyes narrowed with suspicion but he did as he was asked and then gasped with surprise. ‘You have brought the black powder that brings destruction. Why?’
‘I was supposed to drop this cigar against the bottom of one of those sacks and blow you all up but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.’
Swift Eagle folded his arms. ‘Were you afraid, Harrison?’
‘No, it wasn’t that. I fight when I have to defend myself but I don’t want to destroy your people. I don’t care about that money and I know you don’t. Who does?’
The Comanche thought for a moment. ‘The army, Jorge and Pablo do.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I have seen the greed in their eyes when they speak of it.’
‘Why not let them fight the army for it if they want to? I promise you, let us go in peace and you will not be hunted.’ Then he handed Swift Eagle the cigar.
‘You risked death rather than destroy us,’ said the Comanche. ‘I might have killed you when I saw the black powder.’ He dropped the cigar and ground it into the dirt. ‘For what you have done today I will do as you ask. Tell Fire-face there can be peace between us.’ Then he turned and climbed back up the cliff.
Harrison put the bags back on to the pinto, mounted it and rode back towards the camp. Maggie was the first to reach him and flung herself into his arms as he dismounted. They held each other tightly for a moment as she buried her head in his shoulder. He released her as the men swarmed around him, clapping and cheering. Then the crowd parted and fell silent as Kinsella approached to shake him warmly by the hand. He paused when he noticed the unused sacks of gunpowder.
‘Would you care to explain this, Mr Harrison?’
‘I just couldn’t do it, so I took a chance instead. Swift Eagle only attacked the column because he thought you were going to hunt him and his people down. Once he realized he had been deceived he was willing to make peace.’
Kinsella snorted with disgust. ‘Make peace indeed! Have you forgotten what his people did at Jacob’s Well? How do you know he won’t just attack us anyway? You had a chance to get rid of that menace and you just threw it away!’
‘If that’s true, why did he let me go? Swift Eagle could have killed me but he didn’t.’
The officer shrugged. ‘You risked your life in an effort to make peace, I acknowledge that, but you had no right to risk the lives of my men. If the Comanches attack us again, let it be on your conscience.’ With that he turned and walked away. These Southerners were a strange breed
and Kinsella was not sure he would ever understand them, even if he spent the rest of his life in Texas.
Jorge had been amazed to see Harrison get back on his horse and ride off with the money. He had no idea what the bounty hunter had said to Swift Eagle but it had clearly worked. When the Comanche returned his features were set in a grimace.
‘You go now. There is no truth in what you have told us.’
The bandidos tried to protest. ‘Come, Swift Eagle, the gringo is trying to deceive you. I am your friend who has brought you guns and horses—’
‘No, you have sold us guns and horses. Now you try to use us to get the white man’s dollars. I warn you and this fat one. Leave now or we will kill you!’
Seeing that their lives were now in danger, the two bandidos turned and rode away without another word. They continued in silence for a while until Jorge remembered the town attached to Fort Concho. San Angela was a rough place, full of saloons and whorehouses which suited the plan that was beginning to form in his mind. They were certain to need more help and desperate men would rob and kill on the promise of even a few hundred dollars.
‘When they get that money to Fort Concho it will be put somewhere safe,’ he said.
‘So what?’ There was a sour edge to Pablo’s tone. ‘We won’t be able to get at it.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that. The money won’t be being moved all the time, or be constantly under the guard of fifty men. If we keep our eyes and ears open, we might get to find out where it is.’
His companion thought for a moment. ‘I have a cousin in San Angela who has a saloon. Some of the soldiers go in there.’
‘There, you see! You were ready to give up too easily, amigo. With just a few of the right men, we might be able to break in and steal that money after all.’
‘Once my cousin helps us to find out where it is,’ Pablo reminded him.
‘Of course. You can always loosen tongues in a saloon, no?’
Pablo smiled, showing his gold teeth. ‘Yes, with plenty tequila and plenty señoritas.’
