Crossed Arrows: Mountain Men (The Mountain Men Book 1)

by Terry Grosz

  No one bothered the outhouse for obvious reasons.

  * * *

  Leo and Jeremiah stood at the edge of a stand of timber a short distance away, in utter anguish.

  When they had heard the shooting to their south, they suspected trouble, and so they had stopped trapping and had ridden hell-bent for leather towards the sound of battle. They had arrived a short distance from Jacob and Martin’s cabins, but had drawn to an abrupt halt as they observed the battle ending.

  They both stifled an onrush of tears of anger. To try and intervene, now that everyone in the cabins were dead, would be foolish. All that would probably do is get themselves killed and their wives as well once their trail was backtracked.

  In extreme anger and frustration, the two men watched the remaining Gros Ventre take the horses out from the corral, load them with goods taken from the cabin and leave. Leo also noticed that Jacob and Martin’s riding horses and pack animals were with the Gros Ventre raiding party. That could only mean one thing...

  * * *

  An hour after the raiding party had left, Leo and Jeremiah cautiously emerged from the trees. They followed the raiders’ tracks and saw the raiders were fast leaving the area before the Snakes could discover the decimated band and take advantage. With only a few braves left, they were now in danger of not being able to safely ride through the vast territory of the Snake Indians and go back home to their territorial lands far to the north.

  The two brothers returned to Jacob and Martin’s campsite. They backtracked the raiding party to whence they came before attacking the cabin. They quickly discovered Jacob and Martin’s badly mutilated bodies. They dug a grave and placed both men into the same grave.

  Jacob and Martin had been together for their entire lives and Leo felt it best they be buried together like the brothers they were. Then a cairn of rocks was placed over the gravesite, but to avoid any further detection of themselves by any other raiding parties, no fire was built to hide the scent of what lay below.

  The rocks will have to do at keeping the wolves and grizzly bears from digging up and eating the bodies, Leo considered.

  Leo and Jeremiah returned to the burned-out cabins. Leo was amazed to see little Jacob and Martin standing by the open door of the outhouse with terrified, wide-eyed looks. Both men, overjoyed at their survival, bailed off their horses and scooped up the youngsters. The two toddlers recognized the men and just snuggled in their uncles’ muscular arms, unaware they were now without parents.

  After the kids calmed down, Leo gave little Jacob to Jeremiah and went over to the ashes of the cabins. He discovered the bodies of White Fawn and Running Fast in a still smoking and charred pile. Leo openly cried as he carefully dragged the two women over to a nearby old cache hole and placed them in it. Soon the smoking and charred bodies lay beneath the comforting damp soils of Mother Earth.

  Leo made one last swing through the area in front of the cabins. He discovered two partially opened and discarded parfleches. In them were numerous golden ingots and several handfuls of silver and gold coins.

  “Leo, those are just like the golden ingots Ben and Singing Bird gave us before they died!” said Jeremiah, looking on.

  Leo just nodded.

  The two brothers picked the treasure up and placed the parfleches on his and Jeremiah’s pack animals.

  Leo said, “We will keep these riches for little Jacob and Martin so when they grow up, if they want, they can become farmers. They can buy some land and settle down without having to go into this deadly game of trapping and trying to keep one’s topknot all at the same time. That would have made Jacob, Martin and their wives very happy.” Leo had to push the words through the tears freely cascading down his weathered face. He grieved for his once lost but found and then lost forever family.

  Leo clenched his teeth. “We can do nothing more here and now have our own families to think of. And that now includes these two,” he said, nodding towards the children.

  With that, the two men remounted their horses and carried the two little ones back to their own cabins. With heavy hearts, they shared the terrible news with their wives.

  The following morning, the area around Leo and Jeremiah’s cabins was abuzz with activity. Both men had enough of living among the northern tribes of Indians and the constant danger it always seemed to bring, especially with wives and the children their wives had taken for their own. They were taking their pelts and moving back towards some sort of civilization.

  With Leo in front and Jeremiah in the rear of a long pack and travois string, they left the area once full of happy moments that had now turned into blackened, hurtful memories. They passed the graves of White Fawn, Running Fast, Jacob and Martin, to say goodbye one last time.

  Goodbye, Leo thought. I swear in Jesus’s name, I will raise your son to be a good man who will live in the West. I will take them somewhere where death is not always nearby, but they will live in the West. He began reciting Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want…

  Jeremiah joined him, quietly...

  “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters.”

  Leo considered the view of the lake that commanded the valley, and the assorted, now unpopulated beaver ponds nearby.

  “He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”

  Leo let his tear-laden gaze turn to the Wind River Mountains, the jagged top of this valley of...

  “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.”

  Leo turned to look back at the destruction they were leaving: the freshly dug graves, the scorched timbers of the cabins, the abandoned bodies of the Gros Ventre. Then he looked to consider his family, with his new ward and son, young Jacob.

  “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”

  Leo turned forward again, and settled himself into his saddle. He finished the psalm with a stronger voice, with the feeling that the circle of life had again turned another revolution.

  “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

  A lone wolf howled off in the distance, soon followed by howls from the rest of the pack almost as if saying goodbye to others like themselves. A fitting end to those who lived like the wind and disappeared into the soil of the wilderness, like the lonely howl of the wolf against a chilly November night sky.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Served Cold

  Leo and Jeremiah, ever mindful of the raiding party’s close proximity, kept their little band to the cover of the trees and brush-lined creeks. Even though the Gros Ventre raiding party had been reduced in numbers in the battle with Jacob and Martin and their wives, they were still plenty dangerous. Both Leo and Jeremiah carried .54-caliber Hawkens and two single-shot pistols each as standard protection. They also carried a readily available second rifle across the pack on the first animal in each of their horse strings. Additionally, each wife carried a pistol and knife and knew how to use it. However, if attacked, they would still be at a disadvantage against the Gros Ventre raiding party’s superior numbers, so no chances at discovery were taken. When the boys had backtracked the raiding party earlier, shortly after the battle, they observed that the raiders were heading north.

  “By going almost due west, any chance of running into that passel of killing Gros Ventre is pretty slim,” Leo told the others.

  But towards evening with Leo still leading the group, they cut across the tracks of about a dozen Indian horses and shod packhorses. Leo had earlier found a horseshoe from one of Jacob and Martin’s packhorses and there was a horse in the group of tracks without a right front shoe.

  Leo stopped with a racing heart. He quickly looked in every direction expecting to be ambushed at any moment.

&nb
sp; Jeremiah pulled alongside and quietly said, “What is the matter?”

  Without a word, Leo pointed to the ground in front of his horse without taking his eyes off the surrounding landscape.

  “Jesus! What are they doing way out here? The last time we cut their trail, they were heading due north and from the looks of it, as fast as they could.”

  “Must have run into a passel of Snake Indians to the north and figured they best head west to lose them and then head due north once they were out of danger. Less Indians in their way that way,” said a grim-faced Leo.

  “Now we got them in our backyard and agoin’ our way. What do you think?”

  “They won’t be thinkin’ pursuit by anyone way out here,” Leo said slowly through a set of tight lips and narrowed eyes.

  They turned to look at each other. It was obvious Jeremiah was now thinking along the same deadly lines Leo was, like that of a maddened sow grizzly.

  * * *

  Curly Bear sat quietly staring into the small crackling fire. His war party had started out with such high expectations. True, they had a rich load of furs, six of the newest Hawken rifles, over a dozen captured horses, and other valuable goods from the trappers to show for their efforts, but he had lost too many warriors in the process.

  To go home now with such losses would be to go home in disgrace, he grimly thought.

  Yet he had to get home and away from his enemies, the Snakes. Earlier in the day, after the fight with the trappers, his raiding party had traveled north towards home. In their haste to get out of enemy territory, they had observed a large war party of Snake warriors in their path who appeared to be hunting his little band.

  They had slipped away unseen, but he knew that traveling north through country heavy with bands of aroused Snake Indians would now not be the safest way home. It would have been the shortest route but was not possible with the Snakes up in arms and blocking their way.

  No, we will head west until we get to the sagebrush plains at the fringe of the Snake territories and then head north once again. A longer route but safer.

  Freshly roasted venison aroma began to crowd out his worried thinking. Neither he nor his warriors had eaten since the morning of the big fight with the trappers and their wives.

  Hot meat will be good for everyone, he thought as he reached for a smoking piece of venison cooking away on a willow stick over the crackling fire. The venison was that which had been provided by the two trappers from the earlier hunt on the day of their deaths.

  * * *

  The first two Indians hardly made a sound other than a soft gurgling noise as Leo and Jeremiah cut their throats clear to their spinal columns. Kneeling there in the quickly spreading blood pools, each man held his dying Indian still until there was absolutely no movement left to arouse his remaining sleeping companions. With a quick look at each other in the dying fire’s last light, both men silently moved forward once more towards two other sleeping mounds wrapped in blankets around the fires.

  Leo and Jeremiah grabbed each Indian by his mouth and nose to preclude any struggle or sound. The Indians’ heads were pulled violently but quietly back as Leo and Jeremiah’s knives sliced clear to the vertebra of their necks. Blood spurted from the gaping wounds, spraying both brothers as they held the quietly struggling Indians. By now covered with blood as they were, both men looked hideous. Their looks in no way however captured what they felt in their hearts as they crawled silently from one unsuspecting sleeping Indian to another. Soon there were only three Indians left alive out of the original thirteen.

  Once he reached the last three Indians, Leo decided to use his tomahawk because his knife handle was so slippery with blood that a good grasp could not be guaranteed. After Leo pointed to his tomahawk, Jeremiah got the message and went for his own tomahawk in his waistband. Two solid bone-crunching thwacks soon followed and the remaining Indian, the last of his raiding party, awoke with a start. He awoke faced by two bloodied white men on their knees holding two pistols on him from a distance of just a few feet.

  As he looked at his dead comrades and realized it was all over for this world, the Gros Ventre Indian began to sing his death song. Both brothers rose to their feet with the realization this was the Indian seen leading the band of killing savages at the trappers’ cabins. With that realization, Leo felt his heart beating quickly and then hardening even further.

  The brothers tied the Gros Ventre chief to a tree next to a rekindled fire. Then Leo scalped him while he was still alive, eliciting primal screams. Both ears and his nose were then cut off and tossed into the coals of the now blazing fire. As the Indian screamed in abject pain, Jeremiah grabbed each of the Indian’s hands and one at a time spread the fingers alongside the tree. Then, with a vicious swing of his tomahawk, Jeremiah cut off all the Indian’s fingers and thumbs. The Indian screamed in unholy pain, begging the White Man to end his life in a language neither man understood. Both men, however, were still not through.

  Wolves circled the small campfire as Leo gathered up all the rifles, pack animals and furs. He roped together the riding horses. Jeremiah kicked out the remainder of the fire leaving only a few coals.

  With the pungent smell of so much blood in the air, the wolves went into a feeding frenzy. They darted into and out of camp savagely mauling several of the Indians’ bodies lying at the edge of the dying firelight with each venture. Soon, horrendous fights and flesh-tearing sounds rent the quiet night air. The only other noises were that of an Indian tied to a tree softly moaning his death song and the sounds of many horses’ hooves slowly moving away from this, the newest dark and bloody ground.

  After riding several hundred yards from the bloody scene, Leo heard a scream like that of a mountain lion, a sound that defied description...or was it the sound a human makes when he is being torn to pieces while still living by hungry wolves?

  The two men soon joined their concerned wives and children who were hidden in the dark timber. Nothing was said by the women of the bloodied clothing worn by their men. Camp was made, everyone soon fed and then they went to their sleeping skins for some much-needed rest. Tomorrow would bring another day and the start of a new life in a country known for its intense beauty and equally intense violence.

  The toddlers slept all that night, quietly and well, all through the night in a land covered over with a blanket of stars.

  Epilogue

  Bull Bear welcomed the trapper into the camp of the People of the Great Bear. It was a typical trading session. The White Man, Jean-Luc, wanted furs and had heard that Bull Bear’s band had done well in collecting grizzly and brown bearskin furs. He was ready to trade, and he had brought whiskey and horses.

  But this was their second meeting. Bull Bear had let the trapper trade the White Man’s goods for the furs. But then, this White Man, Jean-Luc, had begun asking his people about the yellow metal, if they knew where to find it in the mountains. Bull Bear sent for the trapper, and two warriors had brought him into Bull Bear’s tepee.

  “Why do you ask about the yellow metal?” Bull Bear asked the trapper.

  “I believe that this metal, which is more valuable to our people than furs, is hidden within these mountains. I have seen some in a stream.” The man called Jean-Luc reached into a fold in his buckskin shirt and produced a tiny pebble of malleable yellow metal, not much larger than a piñon nut. “I found this on the other side of the mountains. I want to know if you have ever seen metal like this.”

  Bull Bear jumped to his feet when he saw the gold nugget in his tepee. He took a step back and grasped the Great Bear claw necklace that had kept them safe from the curse of gold. This was not one of the Spanish ingots, though, that had carried the curse.

  Bull Bear stepped cautiously towards the trapper, to look closely at the tiny nugget in his hand. “Does this metal bring death and sickness?”

  The trapper Jean-Luc threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, yes. This makes White Man crazy with desire to own it. White Man will kill and die for thi
s. They call it Gold Fever, and that is why I tell no one that I know there is gold in these lands.”

  Bull Bear smiled. There was more gold, and the Spanish had discovered it.

  “There is more of this, but I do not know where.”

  “You’ve seen gold? Here?”

  “No, not here. In Spanish camp, many years ago. They had much gold. Tell me, do you know of the trappers they call Jacob and Martin, with two other men they call Leo and Jeremiah?” Jean-Luc put the nugget away. He cocked his head, apparently confused by the shift in conversation.

  “Yeah, they disappeared into the mountains. Horse wreck, maybe, or Blackfoot. Ain’t seen ’em at rendezvous for a long time. They were in the Wind River Mountains, last anyone heard. Dangerous country.”

  It was then that Bull Bear realized the curse of the Spanish gold had struck once again. “Leave, and take your gold, White Man. We do not want the metal that makes men crazy, and we do not want you here anymore.” Bull Bear gave the signal to the warrior at his side to take this man out of camp.

  What of the cursed gold? Bull Bear wondered. Now I cannot tell where the gold is, now that the curse has taken the Jacob band. The curse will follow anyone who finds the Spanish gold, and perhaps we will cross paths with the Spanish gold. Perhaps, the curse will return to us.

  Bull Bear spent the rest of the night listening for evil spirits in the wind and clutching at the claws of the Great Bear that he wore around his neck.

  THE END

  Excerpt from Curse of the Spanish Gold, Book 2

  Chapter One

  The Odyssey Begins

  Leo, Jeremiah, and the two boys, who were fast becoming men of the frontier, left their home; a cabin nestled in a thick grove of cottonwoods, early one morning and headed for Fort Bridger. Today would be the start of an adventure that the boys were looking forward to, although they were also a little apprehensive about what the following days might bring.