Duel at Low Hawk

by Charles G. West

  “Who is this woman he looks for?” someone asked. “Does anyone know where she is?”

  “It’s Lilly, Walking Owl’s daughter,” Jonah Feathers answered. “She came back, looking for her aunt and uncle. I took her over there yesterday.”

  This quieted the crowd for a moment. Then someoneasked, “Why didn’t you tell him that? Then maybe he wouldn’t have terrorized the rest of us.”

  “She was runnin’ from him,” Jonah replied. “Didn’t seem right to tell him where she was.”

  “Maybe not,” someone else spoke up. “But now we got us a problem we have to take care of. I stood by, like the rest of you, and didn’t do nothin’ when he went through my house. I ain’t exactly proud of that. But he can’t fight us all if we stick together. I say to hell with waitin’ for the police. Let’s go find the bastard and hang him.”

  There followed a noisy reception for his suggestion among the men gathered there, with most in agreement. Most were already armed with old shotguns, pistols, or single-shot rifles. “All right,” Henry Red Shirt said. “We need to find out where he is right now.” Before anyone else could comment, the Longpath children ran into the store, breathless from running. The tale the children told of the murders of their parents brought an upswell in the already rising emotions of the mob. Some of the women quickly took charge of the children and hurried them into the kitchen.

  “Is he still at your place?” Jonah Feathers asked as the children were led away.

  Someone on the porch outside the door answered for the children. “He’s there all right. Come take a look.” When those inside filed out the door, he pointed in the direction the two children had just come from. There, off to the west, the moonless black sky was aglow with a cloud of flames.

  “Lord have mercy,” Jonah gasped. “We better get movin’.” The quickly formed posse moved out, a conglomeration of horses and wagons, some riding mules, in the direction of George Longpath’s house. Most of them had no real stomach for the chore that had to be done, but were going because it was the right thing to do. More than a few hoped deep down that they would be too late to catch the renegade, and find that he had left Low Hawk.

  “Hurry,” Walks All Day pleaded with her husband. White Bear tried to get to his feet, but the blow to his head had made him dizzy and nauseated. Each time he struggled to a standing position, he had to drop to his knees again to vomit. Still Walks All Day implored him to try. “Hurry,” she repeated. “He will be back to kill us.”

  Her pleading was in vain, for Boot came back to the barn before the old couple could reach the door. Upon seeing their efforts to escape, he trained his rifle on them. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere. I might need your worthless old bones.” It might prove worthwhile to retain an ace in the hole, he figured. Spying a coil of rope on a post, he bound them both, hands and feet, and tied them to the post.

  After turning George Longpath’s livestock out, Boot put his two horses in the barn. Then he stood outside for a few moments admiring the towering blaze from the house. “By damn, that’ll bring ’em,” he uttered. Smiling to himself, he turned about and returned to the barn. Instead of going back inside, he climbed up and positioned himself on the roof. From there, he had a clear field of fire over the entire clearing around the burning house. His wait was not long.

  With Henry Red Shirt leading, the posse stopped short of the path leading to the house. Though long on purpose, the men of Low Hawk were reluctant to charge straight into the clearing without knowing what might await them. Some suggested making an effort to save the house, but were soon overruled, the reason being the house was already too far gone. “Well, what are we gonna do?” someone asked.

  Since there was no sign of anyone about, Henry eased off his reins and let his horse inch closer to the burning structure. The others crowded close in behind him. The posse halted again when they discovered George Longpath’s body lying in the yard between the barn and the house. “Poor George,” Jonah Feathers lamented.

  “Where’s Sarah?” someone wondered aloud.

  “Let’s look in the barn,” Henry said, and guided his horse toward the one remaining building.

  Pulling up before the front of the barn, they were startled by the sudden appearance of Boot Stoner. Springing to his feet, Boot stood above them on the roof, his rifle aiming down at the leaders of the posse at point-blank range. To a man, no member of the posse was willing to make a move, knowing the penalty would be instant death.

  “Nice of you folks to make a call,” Boot slurred sarcastically. “Now I’m gonna tell you how things are gonna be around here.” He paused to see if any of the mob was brave enough to make an attempt to surprise him. No one dared at first. He started to continue when young Ben Highwalker decided to take the risk. Before he could raise his old Springfield rifle hip-high, Boot knocked him out of the saddle, cocked the Winchester, and trained it once again on the group. “Anybody else?” Boot asked. There were no takers. “All right,” he continued. “Here’s the way things are. I know somebody here is hidin’ the Creek girl named Lilly. She’s my property, and I’ve come to get her.” He motioned toward the burning house behind them. “That’s the first one. I’ll burn every last one of you out if you don’t hand over the girl.”

  “Ain’t none of us knows anythin’ about the girl,” Jonah lied. Encouraged by the possibility to deal with the renegade, he was encouraged to speak. “Least-ways, she ain’t here, and that’s the God’s honest truth. Why don’t you just move on? You’ve done enough killin’ here.”

  “You take me for a fool?” Boot roared back. “She’s here, and I’ll burn this town to the ground if I don’t get her back.”

  Feeling a tad bolder now, Jonah responded, “There’s a lot more of us than one man can handle. We could spread out and make it pretty hot for you.”

  “Is that so?” Boot sneered. “Well, how you gonna back away from here right now before I start shootin’?” The question caused a sobering thought to flash through all their minds as they stood exposed at point-blank range. Their consternation caused Boot to grin. “The ones of you that do get away without gettin’shot might not wanna be shootin’ at this barn, since I’ve got that old man and his wife tied up in there.”

  “White Bear,” someone whispered, “George’s young’un said they was hidin’ in the barn with ’em.”

  “White Bear, huh?” Boot snarled. “Well, White Bear and his ol’ lady are settin’ in a pile of hay with a lantern right beside ’em. I can see ’em through a hole in the roof. One shot from me and the whole barn will go up.” The part about the lantern and the hole in the roof was pure fabrication, but it served Boot’s purpose. “Now there ain’t nothin’ to keep me from knockin’ half of you bastards outta the saddle right now. So how about it? Bring me the girl, or there ain’t gonna be no Low Hawk after tonight.”

  Struck with the sobering realization that they had allowed themselves to ride right up under him, and knowing that his was not an idle boast, a clammy fear gripped the entire posse. Each man couldn’t help but wonder if he would be one of the lucky ones to escape the repeating rifle in a sudden dash for safety. Jonah Feathers knew that it was time for negotiation. “All right,” he said. “If you’ll hold your fire, and let us back off, we’ll bring you the girl. Fair enough?”

  “I thought so.” Boot smirked. “Make it quick. I’m runnin’ low on patience.” He watched with amused interest as the posse wasted no time in backing away.

  Once they had retreated beyond the glow of the firelight, the posse crowded together to question Jonah. “You plannin’ to go over to Tom Talltree’s and fetch the girl back here?” Henry asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jonah confessed. “I didn’t see how to tell him anythin’ else to keep from gettin’ half of us shot. He had us dead to rights.”

  “I say give him the damn girl,” a voice from the back of the pack said. “He’s done killed enough of us already.”

  The comment started a heated discussion, divided b
etween those who favored concession and those who still wanted to fight. While they argued, Boot climbed down from the roof and slipped into the trees behind the barn where he could watch without being seen. “Why ain’t Tom here?” Henry Red Shirt voiced. No one could answer for sure, but it was assumed that he simply had not heard what was going on. His new house was a considerable distance from the others, and there was a high ridge between there and Low Hawk. They had just about decided to go in search of Lilly when out of the darkness rode Captain Jack Wildhorse with two privates from the district police.

  With great relief, Jonah and Henry turned the problem of the renegade half-breed over to the Creek Lighthorse. “You got a fair piece of work ahead of you, Jack,” Jonah advised. “He’s a wild-hog killer, and he’s holed up on top of the barn.”

  “Boot Stoner,” Wildhorse said. “We heard about him from the Cherokee Lighthorse. A deputy marshal has been trying to track him down, but he ain’t been able to corner him.”

  “John Ward?” Jonah asked.

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “I wish to hell John Ward was here now,” Jonah said.

  Jack did not take offense. He was well acquainted with the lawman from Fort Smith. “Well, don’t worry. Me and my boys will take care of Mr. Stoner.”

  “He says he’s got White Bear and his wife tied up in the barn,” Henry said. “That’s the only thing that kept us from going after him,” he added.

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. “That makes it a mite more hairy. We’ll just have to be careful if the shootin’ starts.” Wasting no more time, he directed his men, sending one to each side of the barn. “Watch yourselves,” he warned. “This boy is supposed to be a real killer.”

  Waiting long enough to give his men time to get in position, he then rode his horse up to the edge of the firelight from the smoldering flames of the house, and dismounted. Pulling his horse around so that it stood between him and the barn, he called out to the fugitive. “All right, Stoner, this is Captain Jack Wildhorse of the Creek Lighthorse. We’ve got you surrounded. There ain’t no way out of that barn except through us, so you might as well come on out peacefully.”

  A long moment of silence followed, and then it was shattered by a single rifle shot. The crowd of onlookers was stunned by the sudden appearance of a black bullet hole in the lawman’s forehead. Jack stood there for a frozen moment, then keeled over backward. He had made a fatal mistake in assuming Boot was still on the barn roof.

  Though frozen, horrified for a moment, the spectators scattered for cover in the next instant. Wildhorse’s two men immediately started firing at the barn with no visible target. Forgetting the couple tied up inside, they splintered the barn with rifle fire, pockmarking the sides of the building without realizing their target was not even inside. Exhausting their magazines, the two privates stopped to reload. During the lull in the firing, a thin wail could be heard coming from the barn.

  “Walks All Day!” someone yelled. Then the cry of alarm was picked up by someone else, and finally Henry Red Shirt called out to the policeman closest to him. “You’ve gotta hold your fire! You’re gonna kill those folks inside.” Confused, the two policemen fell back to pick up Jack Wildhorse’s body, then retreated to where the spectators had gathered. There they stopped to consider their options.

  “We gotta get him off of that barn,” one of the policemen said.

  “We need more men,” the other one replied.

  “Some of us can help,” Henry Red Shirt volunteered. Both policemen glanced at the disorganized mob of men behind them, before looking back at each other and shaking their heads.

  “Maybe,” one of them said.

  While the Indian police debated their next plan of attack, Boot Stoner reentered the barn and quietly led his horses out the back, pausing only briefly to tell the wailing Indian woman to shut up. It was too dark in the barn to see his penetrating stare, but the gruffness of his voice caused her to cease her crying immediately.

  The Creek policemen decided they had no choice but to rush the barn in an effort to save the lives of the old couple. The flames from the house had died down at that point and the clearing was no longer illuminated brightly, so their plan was to charge into the barn as fast as they could run, and riddle the barn roof with rifle balls. They figured that, even if he was not hit, it would at least make it too hot for him to stay up there.

  The plan might have worked if Boot had, in fact, been on the barn roof. The two lawmen were able to make it across the clearing without being shot at. Charging into the barn, one of them almost stumbled over the hostages, but was able to avoid them at the last second. Recovering immediately, he joined his partner in reducing the old roof to lace, firing as rapidly as they could cock and fire up over their heads. All the while, Walks All Day tried frantically to tell them that Boot had left. When they finally understood her frantic screaming, they stood perplexed, the barn floor littered around their feet with spent shells. Soon they were joined by cheering spectators, assuming from the quiet that the fugitive had been killed.

  “Gone?” Jonah Feathers exclaimed. “He got away?” He, like his neighbors, found it hard to believe the belligerent savage had survived such a volley of shots. The half-breed had dueled with the entire community and beaten them, leaving many bodies to bury.

  “He’s lit out from here,” one of the Creek police said. “Too dark to track him tonight. We’ll have to wait till morning.”

  “I hope to hell that’s the last we’ll see of him around here,” Jonah said. Then a thought struck him. “I expect it would be a good idea for somebody to ride over to warn them folks over on Black Rock Creek that trouble might be coming their way.” Still feeling a sense of importance for having successfully delivered the Creek Lighthorse, Henry’s son volunteered to take on the mission.

  “You be careful, Jimmy,” Henry cautioned before his son leaped upon his horse and galloped away in the darkness.

  Sitting watching from the dark shadows of the cottonwoods that ringed George Longpath’s lower field, Boot smiled to himself when the lone rider galloped along the road on the far side of the field. I wonder where he’s going in such a hurry. Might be a good idea to find out. He waited until Jimmy had rounded the curve at the north end of the field, then started out after him.

  Oblivious to the trauma taking place two miles away on the eastern side of the high ridge that bordered Black Rock Creek, Tom Talltree was awakened from a sound sleep by the sound of distant gunfire. “What is it, Tom?” Blue Woman asked when she, too, was awakened and sat up to find her husband standing in the open door.

  “Gunfire,” Tom answered. “It’s coming from Low Hawk—sounds like a war going on.”

  Blue Woman got up and went to see if Lilly had also heard the noise. In a few seconds, she rushed to the door where Tom was still standing and listening.

  “She’s gone! Lilly’s not there!” Thinking that maybe the girl had gone outside to make water, she walked out on the porch and began calling, “Lilly! Lilly!” When there was no response, Tom went back inside and lit a lantern. Going to Lilly’s bed, he gave his wife the news that their niece was not only gone, but so were her things. Tom didn’t express his feelings, but there was a slight sense of relief that the troublesome runaway might be out of their lives.

  His feelings were not shared by Blue Woman, who immediately began to worry and fret. “Where will she go?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “Maybe she will come back.”

  Tom, back outside in the yard then, announced, “The shooting has stopped. Maybe I’ll ride over in the morning and find out what happened.”

  “You must find Lilly,” Blue Woman said. “She can’t be far. Maybe she heard you talking after she went to bed. You should not have said those things,” she scolded. “You must go after her.”

  “I can’t look for her till morning,” Tom replied, not really enthusiastic about bringing her back. “Maybe it’s best for everyone if she finds a better place to stay.” When Blue
Woman started to berate him, he quickly assured her, “I’ll try to find her in the morning when I can see her tracks. She could have gone anywhere. We might as well go back to bed.”

  Blue Woman was not at all happy with her husband’s lack of purpose. She felt a tremendous lack of responsibility on her own part for not taking Lilly in when her parents were killed. Worried now for the girl’s safety, she could not go back to bed knowing Lilly was out there somewhere, alone and forsaken. Finally she said, “You go back to bed. I’m going to look for her.” Before there was an opportunity to argue about it, they were stopped by the sound of a horse galloping along the narrow path to their house.

  Alarmed, Tom ran inside to get his shotgun. Fumbling with the shells, he managed to get it loaded by the time he returned to join Blue Woman on the porch. A moment later, Jimmy Red Shirt rode into the yard, calling out for them. Relieved to recognize Jimmy, but still worried about the cause of his visit in the middle of the night, Tom propped his shotgun by the door and walked out to meet him.

  Standing in the middle of the front yard, Tom and Blue Woman listened, horrified by the boy’s account of the blatant killings that had taken place in Low Hawk. Jimmy’s news confirmed Tom’s dread feelings about the potential danger Lilly’s arrival had visited upon them. “I knew it. I knew it,” he kept muttering to himself as Jimmy related the tragedy of Jack Wildhorse’s arrival with the police.

  So absorbed were they in the tale of horror, that none of the three noticed the shadowy figure slowly walking his horse up behind them until words suddenly came from the darkness, cold and clammy. “I’ve come for Lilly. Where is she?”

  The words might have come from the evil spirit himself, such was their effect upon Tom Talltree. His blood seemed to turn to jelly in his veins. He at once looked to the door where his shotgun was propped, feeling desperation in knowing he could not possibly reach it in time. Jimmy’s reaction was to back away until he bumped into his horse. Of the three, only Blue Woman retained a sense of calm. “She is not here,” she said. “She has gone.”