Hard Justice

by Mike McNeff

  “I know. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “Have faith, Gale. He’s a good man. He’ll do the right thing.”

  She hurried out the door, tears fell from her eyes. She could only hope Micah was right.

  Bart Moore dismounted at the broken down cabin where the last five of his men were hiding. The cabin was back in the trees a ways from the confluence of the Seneca River and Big Muddy Creek. Aside from the sound of the wind in the trees and critters going about their day, the colliding waters made a constant low rumbling undertone.

  “What’s the news, Bart?” Dewey Cann asked.

  “It was Jasper Lee who ambushed us. After the ambush he tracked down Johnny Stewart and Rich Delton. He shot Johnny in a saloon in Lowell Town along with two cowboys.” The Lowell Town marshal saved Delton but he’s in jail now.”

  “Shit, Bart, what are we goin’ to do? Jasper Lee is a natural born killer. We don’t stand a chance against him.”

  “Don’t give me any of your goddamn whinin’, Dewey! I ain’t afraid of Jasper Lee.”

  “Well, you’d better be,” Harry Wells said after spitting a short stream of tobacco juice. “I know Lee and he’s a curly wolf. Fought with him during the War Between the States and agin’ him in the Cattle Wars. He’s fearless and the best fightin’ man I’ve ever seen.”

  “You sound like you like the son-of-a-bitch, Wells.”

  “I don’t necessarily like him, but I do respect him.”

  Bart looked at Harry. His thoughts lingered on the word respect and the anger started to boil inside him again. His hand rested on the butt of his pistol. “I’m just as dangerous as Jasper Lee, Harry. How come you don’t respect me like you do him?”

  “Didn’t say I don’t Bart. I’m just tellin’ you that Jasper is nobody to take lightly.”

  Bart relaxed a little, satisfied he had put Harry in his place. “Well, we ain’t goin’ to have to fight him. My uncle’s takin’ care of business. We just gotta lay low until he gets things set straight. I gotta go to his ranch for a while. You boys stay here until you hear from me. Bart mounted and jerked the reins to point his horse in the opposite direction. “And don’t cause no trouble!”

  Harry Wells picked up his saddle and blanket and walked over to his horse.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” Dewey Cann asked.

  “Like I told you before, that Bart Moore is crazy. I ain’t waitin’ around for him. I’m gettin’ outta this territory.”

  “He told us to stay here.”

  Wells finished saddling his horse and mounted. “Look around you, Dewey. Moore’s goin’ to a nice comfortable ranch while he wants us to stay out in this dump. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “He says his uncle is going to straighten things out.”

  “His uncle is a no good lyin’, cheatin’ politican. I don’t trust either of ‘em. Good luck to all of you.” Wells turned his horse and started toward the trail.

  Cann waited a few seconds before he drew his pistol and fired. Wells slumped forward in his saddle, but his horse galloped off.

  “Shall we go finish him off?” Jackson Smith asked.

  “Hell no!” Cann holstered his pistol. “I shot him didn’t I?”

  “Well, sure you did.”

  “Well then he’s dead because I don’t miss.”

  Gale stepped outside into the fading sun. Shading her eyes she looked around and spotted a lone rider heading towards the ranch house. He rode with the butt of a Winchester resting on his thigh. Sean was coming in later than usual. She let out a long sigh as he approached. Both pride and dread filled her heart at the sight of her son riding like a strong man, but he seemed too comfortable with the rifle for her liking.

  “Hello, Ma.”

  “You stayed out much later than usual.”

  A sly smile crossed Sean’s face. “You worried about me meeting some pretty face out here, Ma?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, young man.” Gale was smiling, but the word man caught in her throat.

  Sean slipped the Winchester in its scabbard, dismounted and gave his mother a hug. “Just following Pa’s evening track and makin’ sure everything is well.”

  Gale put her hand on Sean’s cheek and felt the beginnings of a beard. Thank you, son, but what took you so long?”

  “Pa taught me that when I ride perimeter not to leave any question unanswered.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Pa says we all see things that raise questions in our mind but we ignore most of them. When you ride perimeter you don’t ignore any of them. Other soldier’s lives depend on it, or in this case my family’s lives depend on it. I just saw a lot of questions.”

  Gale looked at her son for a moment. “Take care of your horse and come on in. I kept your supper warm for you.”

  “Yes’m.”

  Gale watched him head for the barn knowing the die was cast. She went back inside and set supper out for him. She sat at the table and began mending the knees of Brenden’s pants, a seemingly endless chore. He and the girls were already in bed.

  Sean came in and sat down at the table. “Boy, the ham smells awfully good, Ma.” He cut into the meat and forked a piece into his mouth. His head nodded with approval. “Tastes good too,” he said after he swallowed.

  “Thank you, son.” Then almost absent mindedly she said, “From now on when you ride out to the range I think it’s best you wear your gun belt.”

  Sean stopped chewing for a moment and looked at his mother but didn’t say anything.

  “Did you hear me, son?”

  “I did, Ma, it’s just you surprised me. Whenever I ask Pa about when I could wear my gun he always says, ‘Your mother will know.’”

  “Your father said that?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “That rascal. He knows me too well.”

  They both laughed, then Gale became serious. “Well, I think you’re ready now. Son, I know firearms are necessary in this country. I trust you’ll follow your father’s words about their use.”

  “Pa has taught me well, Ma. I won’t misuse them.”

  Gale took a deep breath and nodded. She folded Brenden’s pants and stood. “I’m turning in. Good night, son. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Ma.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JASPER AND BLACK FEATHER RODE into the clan village. The people came out and gathered around them while they put their horses in the corral and unsaddled them. The village sat on the shore of a lake the clan called Sky Water because it was almost always the color of the sky no matter what the weather. Twenty-one family lodges dotted the area between the lake and the trees. Behind the lodges several women looked up from tending neat rows of maize, potatoes, onion and watermelon. The warm scent of rosemary and thyme filled the air.

  “As the sisters told us, Indian Jack is dead,” Black Feather announced. “Fire Hawk buried him according to our custom.”

  Murmurs rippled through the group and Jasper noticed faces showing sadness and appreciation.

  A woman came forward. She was thin, her face lined with a long life. Her long white hair fell down her back. Jasper bent down and she put her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his.

  “Hello, Rain Water.”

  “My Son, it is good to see you.”

  “And very good to see you, my Mother.”

  “Come to our lodge so I can feed you. You look too skinny. Does your white wife not give you enough to eat?”

  “Now, Mother, you know she’s a good woman.”

  “Maybe, but she is not a clan woman. You could have done better.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so.”

  A slight smile curved Rain Water’s lips. “I think you keep this to yourself. I am old and cannot fight her fire.”

  As they walked through the village others came and greeted Jasper. Men grasped his forearm with respect and women touched or hugged him. When they reached the lodge he stooped to enter a
nd took his place as the second son.

  Rain Water was the widow of the former chief and Black Feather was next in line to be chief of the clan, after Walks With Bears. The lodge she shared with her son and his family was large. Black Feather had two sisters and they came with their families so it was a gathering of many, including Black Feather’s wife and their two sons.

  They all sat in a large circle passing around a meal of venison, rabbit, black beans and maize bread, all seasoned with natural herbs. This was Jasper’s kind of meal. He wished he could eat more, but out of respect he politely ate a much smaller portion than he normally did.

  Jasper loved his Indian family and the life they had so willingly taught him. A light hearted mood prevailed because of his return but a tinge of sadness colored the conversation. Jasper considered how the clan openly discussed the connection of all living things to one another, while it was rarely a thought in the daily life of so called civilized folks. The loss of one member was a loss to the heart of the whole tribe. Jasper missed that connection in his other world.

  When the meal was finished Black Feather motioned for Jasper to follow and led him to another lodge.

  “The men who killed Jack and Soft Rain are in there. Talk to them and hear their story so you can tell it when you return to your other home.”

  Jasper nodded and entered the lodge.

  “Well, lookee here,” one of the men sneered. “If it ain’t the injun lover hisself.”

  Jasper let his eyes get used to the low light of the single torch and looked at each of the three men. They lay naked, their hands and feet bound with buckskin straps.

  “You goin’ to shoot us, Jasper Lee?” Jasper recognized Eldon Samson, a known bad man.

  “I can pretty much guarantee you’ll come to wish I had.”

  “Go to hell, Lee.”

  “What’s goin’ to happen to us?” A younger man asked. Even in the dim light Jasper could see the fear in his eyes.

  “It’s not up to me. The clan elders will decide whether or not you wronged the clan and if so, the women you violated will tell the elders what they want as punishment.”

  “Are they goin’ to kill us?”

  “That ain’t what you need to worry about. What you need to worry about is how long it will take you to die.”

  The young man swallowed hard. “Mr. Lee…”

  “Shut up, kid!” Samson yelled.

  Jasper stepped over to Samson and yanked his head back with a fistful of hair. “Shut your mouth or I’ll cut your tongue out right here.”

  Samson glared at Jasper.

  Jasper let go and Samson’s head thumped against the lodge floor. “Go ahead kid. What do you have to say?”

  “My folks live in Kentville. Frank and Mary Albright are their names. Could you get a message to them that I’m sorry I brought them so much hurt and embarrassment?“ Tears welled in the young man’s eyes. ”They’re good folks and don’t deserve what I’ve done to them.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Larry...well, Lawrence.”

  “All right, Lawrence. I’ll find your folks.”

  “What about you?” Jasper asked the last man.

  “My name’s Jess Gestas. I done what I done and that’s that.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Ain’t you goin’ to ask me, Lee?” Samson asked mockingly.

  “I know who and what you are. Do you feel like a man for raping and murdering a helpless young girl? For killin’ my kin?“

  “Those fools were your kin?”

  “My Pa and my brothers.”

  “Ya don’t say! Yeah, it felt good when I put that bullet hole in your old man’s head and your brother’s face.”

  Jasper’s teeth clenched as his hand touched the grip of this right pistol.

  “C’mon Jasper, you know you wanna kill me.”

  Jasper’s hand dropped from his gun and he knelt down close to Samson’s face. “Before too long, Samson, you’re goin’ to be beggin’ me to shoot you.”

  Samson spit in Jasper’s face but Jasper didn’t miss the fear in the man’s eyes.

  Jasper wiped off the spit and looked at Samson’s leg. “It looks like someone sliced you up a bit.”

  “One of your brothers did that to him, Mr. Lee.”

  “Shut your goddamn mouth, kid!”

  “That would’ve been Caleb.” Jasper’s fingers rubbed against his holster and he had to force himself not to draw. “He always was feisty.”

  “Yeah, well he died just like the rest of your family, Lee.”

  Jasper walked to the lodge opening and half turned. “They died quicker than you will, Samson.”

  Deep concern weighed heavy on Dr. Amos Scoville. Nancy Norton didn’t show up for her appointment which was not like her. Newly pregnant with her first child, she was very conscientious about following the doctor’s advice. The doctor had asked old Tom Rogers, a retired peace officer, to ride out to the Norton place and check on things. Tom returned…alone.

  Amos stepped out to his porch. “What’d you find out, Tom?”

  “Something ain’t right, Doc. The place is closed up and there’s a notice on the door sayin’ that scoundrel Cornell Norris bought the Norton’s out and they went back east.”

  “That’s preposterous! The Nortons would never sell. That ranch was their life!”

  “Easy, Doc, you’re preachin’ to the choir.”

  Amos deflated, tears rimming his eyes. “Tom, please come inside. I have a great favor to ask of you.”

  Amos sat down at his desk, wrote a message, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to Tom.

  “You know whatever goes through the telegraph here is reported to Norris and his cronies.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  “I’m asking you to ride to Lowell Town and send this message by telegraph there. I fear the Nortons have been murdered. The law can’t be trusted here and something needs to be done.”

  “But who can you trust to do something about it?”

  “My former commanding officer when I was a regimental surgeon.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Ulysses S. Grant.”

  “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, Doc! I didn’t know you know’d the president!”

  “Well I do, Tom.”

  Tom took the envelope. “This ol’ broken down peace officer can’t move very fast, but my horse, Shooter, can. We’ll ride like the wind.”

  “Thank you, Tom.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE PEOPLE WERE GATHERED AROUND the elders in the glow of fires and torches.

  The chief listed the things the white men had done and a murmur rumbled through the gathering. He called for Moon on the Water to step forward to say what she wanted done to them.

  The young woman struggled to stand, obviously in pain. “My father is dead. My sister is dead.” She pointed to her other sister. “We are ruined so no warrior will have us.”

  Jasper noticed Claw of the Eagle bow his head at Moon on the Water’s statement. When his face rose, tears glistened in the firelight.

  “The white men killed Soft Rain by filling her with big sticks where they wanted her womanhood because she fought them and hurt them. They pushed the sticks hard into her, tearing her inside. She died when her blood ran out.

  “My sister, Butterfly Wing, and I want these men to die slowly. Before they die we want to push sticks into them so they can feel the pain of Soft Rain. Then we will cut off their manhood.”

  Jasper felt himself involuntarily clenching his jaws and squeezing the muscles at the bottom of his groin at Moon on the Water’s descriptions. He had no doubt Moon on the Water could do the deeds she described, but Butterfly Wing sat with her head down and said nothing.

  The chief motioned for Moon on the Water to sit again. The elders conferred for a short while. Then the chief stood.

  “The punishment for the white men shall be the Circle of Fire. Before the men die the sisters may have their revenge on them.”<
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  Some warriors went to the lodge while others began to sink three large poles in the ground. The naked white men were put in front of the people, still trussed in buckskin. The firelight played over the men’s bodies as they struggled to hold their knees together to hide their genitals. Some people threw small stones at the men, then more started throwing until soon the entire village was throwing the small stones.

  The white men were not seriously injured by the stones but they cowered and yelped like children being spanked. Their clumsy dance raised a dust cloud that caught the firelight and created a glowing red circle around them. Gestas fell to the ground and the people laughed as the men’s faces flushed with humiliation.

  “Stop it you goddamn sons of bitches!” Samson screamed. He tried to lunge at a young boy but a warrior knocked him back.

  “C’mon you son of a bitch! Untie me and fight me like a man!”

  The warrior grabbed Samson by the hair and pulled him so that their faces were inches apart. “You are not worthy of the honor to fight a warrior. You only fight old men and women. You are nothing!” The warrior growled. He threw Samson into the dirt.

  Three cries from the warriors who sank the poles brought the stoning to a halt. They grabbed the men and dragged them to the three silent sentries. Samson and Gestas yelled and screamed, the only thing they could do in the way of a struggle. Lawrence didn’t offer any resistance.

  The men faced each other around a pile of cut wood and branches, each had their hands tied behind their pole. Each pole stood five paces from the pile of wood. Their feet were spread wide and staked. When it came time to tie Samson’s feet he kicked a warrior in the face. The warrior kneed Samson in the groin and punched him in the head. Samson hung on his pole muttering curse words.

  Satisfied the men were securely tied, the warriors brought the sisters to the pile of wood. Each sister carried a small torch which they placed inside the bottom the pile. Soon smoke spiraled into the night, set aglow by flames taking up the chase of the ghostly wisps.

  The fire didn’t begin large but after the pile started to burn down the chief nodded to a person who walked to the fire and put on more wood. When that wood burned brightly the chief nodded to the next person and so on. Through this process the fire gradually grew in size. The chief nodded to Jasper. Jasper was hesitant but he rose and walked to the fire. Now fully recognizing what the punishment would be his denial evaporated. He struggled inside. To him justice should be swift and sure, not a drawn out torture. He briefly toyed with the idea of shooting the men but dismissed the thought. These men wronged the clan in the clan’s territory. The right to justice belonged to them and only them.