Sundance 4

by John Benteen

  Then he saw it, branching to the right. “Damn,” he said aloud. His voice was soft, but it echoed in the silence. The passageway to the right was hardly more than a rat burrow. Barely big enough to admit the body of a crawling man, it nevertheless had to be the place Captain Jack had told him of. And there was nothing for it but to go into it.

  He laid the Winchester aside. Then he got down on his belly, stuck his head through the narrow aperture, fitted his wide shoulders in it. He crawled a foot, experimentally. Then he backed out.

  The hole narrowed even more inside. He dared not risk getting hung up in it. Reluctantly, but knowing there was no other way, he uncinched his gunbelt, lowered Colt, knife, and hatchet. Even the shirt might be too much, and he peeled that off, too. Then he lay down on the cold, sharp rock again and squirmed once more into the hole, holding the flickering candle in front of him.

  There was barely enough air to keep the dim flame burning. Now Sundance was in a coffin of black rock, its sharp waves and ripples like blades against his belly. Breathing hard, he pulled himself along, his feet inside the hole. Captain Jack’s father had, he thought, chosen a hell of a hiding place.

  Foot by foot he edged along. Twenty, thirty, forty ... he was afraid now and admitted it; if he got hung up in this cold, bleak passage, it would be a hell of a way to die. Still, he forced himself forward. Fifty feet, sixty ... Then he halted. There it was, just as Captain Jack had said.

  Breadboxes. Two of them. Where the passage opened up a little, then ended. Gratefully, Sundance wriggled into the bulblike expansion of the tunnel, where he could at least raise his head and move his arms freely. He dripped tallow on the floor, stuck the candle to it. Then he seized the breadboxes.

  “Damn,” he said again, aloud. They were heavy, heavy as hell. If there were gold in them, they were worth a fortune. Maybe fifty thousand dollars.

  He worked the two metal boxes loose from the rubble that concealed them. He wrapped his arms about them after he had planted the candle on one of them. Then he began to squirm backwards, pulling the boxes with him.

  It took him a long, harrowing time. The sharp ridges of the floor abraded his naked belly. Once, his wide shoulders caught where the wall narrowed; it took some twisting to get loose. His elbows were raw and bleeding, and he was gasping for breath as he inched toward the main cave.

  It seemed to take forever, but then his feet were in the open. He waved them experimentally. Heartened, he backed more swiftly. His thighs came out. His waist. He squirmed strongly, yanking the heavy boxes with him; and then his head emerged from the hole, and he drew in a long breath of relief. He gave one more shove, drew the boxes clear.

  That was when the gun’s muzzle pressed against the back of his skull and Wade’s voice said, echoing in the hollow silence of the cave, “Freeze, Sundance.”

  Sundance lay perfectly still. There was a moment when he thought that, because of darkness and strain, he was hallucinating. But there was nothing dreamlike about that cold iron on the back of his head. “Glenn?” he said incredulously.

  Wade’s laugh rang, and now Sundance saw that the cave was torch lit. “Yep, it’s me, Jim. And don’t go looking for your weapons. I’ve already thrown ‘em out of reach. You just sit up slow and easy and pick up those boxes. Then you get to your feet and carry ‘em outside for me, where I can see what’s in ‘em. Unless the Goddam Modocs spent a lot, there ought to be about sixty thousand.”

  Sundance said: “I don’t—”

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t get, if that’s what you mean. They make no difference now. You just do exactly what I say, if you don’t want your head blown off. Pick up them boxes. And move slow, damn slow, up to the cave’s mouth. One twitch, I’ll burn you.”

  Sundance accepted the fact that there was nothing to do but obey. He stood up slowly, carefully, seeing in the torchlight that his weapons were indeed gone. He grunted under the weight of the two old tin breadboxes, and he staggered forward toward the slit of daylight that marked the cave. He could feel the cold ring of Glenn Wade’s gun muzzle against his naked spine.

  As they headed for daylight, Wade spoke, a tone of gloating in his voice. “Twenty years,” he said. “That’s how long it’s been. Twenty years since the Modocs jumped that wagon train me and my daddy was in.”

  Sundance almost halted. “You were in the massacre at Bloody Point?”

  “Keep movin’. Right, I was there, when the Modocs hit that immigrant train. My old man was on the dodge from Minnesota; he’d been tied in with a horse-thievin’ ring. He and me, we joined up with the train. Then he found out that an old coot named Gordon had sixty thousand in gold in his wagon. Nobody knew about it but him. He killed Gordon, made it look like Injuns, snuck the gold out of Gordon’s wagon, put it in ours. We were rich, damn it”—his voice roughened—“until the Modocs hit us at Bloody Point.”

  “I think I’m beginning to see,” Sundance said, as they neared the cave’s mouth.

  “Sure you are. The Modocs killed my father, woulda got me if I hadn’t hid in the brush. I seen ‘em take that gold outa the wagon, ride off with it. Our gold. And I never forgot it, never.”

  Now they were at the cave’s mouth. “Take those boxes on outside down in the valley,” Wade ordered.

  Sundance lurched down the hill to the valley floor with them, Wade close behind, the gun trained on him. “You can set ‘em down now,” Wade said. He stepped around in front of Sundance as Sundance did so and stood there, grinning mockingly, Colt aimed at Sundance’s chest. “Jim, you’re a damned sucker,” he said contemptuously. “Just like Susan. For twenty years, I wondered where that gold was. I played up to the Modocs, pretended to be their friend, still couldn’t find out. But I knew they hadn’t spent it, it had to be somewhere. And all the time, my luck was lousy, I was always broke—until I met up with Susan. She was a good-lookin’ piece and she had some property and then I saw my chance. I talked her into sellin’ it and we bought this Lost River ranch, so I could be near the Modocs, see what I could find out about that gold. Eventually, I figgered it had to be in the lava beds. But, damn! Where?”

  He eared back the hammer of the Colt. “I thought, when the Army cleared the Modocs out, I’d finally have a chance to search for it. But then I found out that there were five Modocs left, and I had to get rid of them, too, before I had a free hand. I knew I couldn’t wipe ‘em out myself, and that if the Army or the other ranchers went into the lava, somebody might find the gold. So that was when I fixed on you. I figured that you could clear ‘em out for me. And when I found out that you’d talked to Captain Jack just before they swung him at Fort Klamath, I guessed that he’d told you where the money was.”

  Sundance stared at him. “You bastard,” he said.

  “As a matter of fact, I wasn’t. My daddy and momma were married, but the old man beat her to death one night. That’s neither here nor there. Anyhow, you did what I wanted you to. You got rid of the Modocs and you found the gold. Led me to it. I followed you this mornin’, hangin’ back. I’m a pretty good trail-hound myself. You led me right to the cave, even did me the favor of haulin’ out the gold for me. And now that I got it ... I swear, Jim, I’ve come to like you. But I’m purely going to have to kill you. You got any Indian prayers to say, you got maybe ten seconds you can howl ‘em in. Then I’m gonna blast you.”

  Sundance looked into the unwavering muzzle of the gun and knew he was as close to death as he would ever be. He could not jump that dead drop. Then he thought of Eagle.

  As if Wade had read his mind, he laughed. “Don’t whistle for that man-eatin’ horse of yours, either. He knows me now and let me get close enough to dab a loop on him. He’s tied tighter’n Dick’s hatband down this valley. Maybe, if I can whip him down, I’ll ride out on him. Because, now I’ve got the gold, I’ll ride out, straight out. Susan can wonder where the hell I’ve gone. She’s crazy, you know it, Jim? Even when I beat the hell out of her, she stuck by me, despite the fact that she’s in love w
ith Roane. Women. They’re all crazy. Well, Jim, you ready, now?” He stepped back a pace, tipped up the gun barrel, and his gray eyes gleamed. “Since we’re friends, I’ll try to make it quick and easy—”

  “Drop it, Wade,” a voice said from not fifty feet away, down the seam of lava. “You’re covered.”

  It was Roane’s voice.

  Glenn Wade’s head jerked around and so did Sundance’s. Roane stood there with a rifle in his hand, leveled at Wade. His rough-hewn face seemed cast in iron. “You got drunk last night and beat the hell out of Susan. She stood for that. What she wouldn’t stand for was what you told her while you were likkered up. About the money and how Sundance would lead you to it and you were gonna follow him. She couldn’t stomach that—and finally she made the choice I’ve been hopin’ she would for months. She rode to find me, and I was on my way to your place to see if you’d got back. I had time to pick up your trail, follow you in here. I caught sight of you just as you hit the lava beds, after that, it was easy. You were so damned intent on Sundance.” His voice rasped with hatred. “I’ve seen some skunks in my time. Now, drop that gun.”

  Wade stood motionless.

  “Drop it,” Roane rasped again. “It would purely pleasure me to kill you.”

  “All right, Roane,” Wade said, sucking in a long breath. “I reckon you’ve got me cold.” Then he threw himself to one side and turned the gun on Roane and fired.

  Roane jerked with the impact of the bullet, fell backward, and Sundance leaped.

  His body crashed into Wade’s and bore him down. Wade landed hard on the lava, struggling to get the gun in line. Sundance’s hand clamped his wrist. Wade locked an arm around Sundance, gouging fingers in his neck. They rolled over and over, and Sundance let Wade’s fingers probe; he concentrated all his strength, every bit, into crushing Wade’s wrist.

  His arm and hand were big and thick with muscle. He used all that muscle as he clamped Wade’s wrist, and he felt bones give and grate together. Wade was chopping at his neck with his left hand, but Sundance ignored that, too. Inexorably, he applied more pressure, and Wade’s fingernails raked grooves in his flank and Wade screamed; and then something popped in Wade’s wrist, even as Wade sank his teeth in Sundance’s shoulder. Wade let go the gun, and Sundance’s hand slid and grasped it, and then Sundance was on his feet, and Wade was sitting up, eyes wide, face contorted with pain. “You broke my wrist,” he wheezed.

  “Yes,” Sundance said and brought the gun down into line.

  Wade stared into its barrel as Sundance, panting, stood above him. His jaw dropped. “Oh—oh, God, no, Jim,” he stammered. “Wait. You don’t understand—”

  “I understand,” Sundance said. “I gave you money to pay your mortgage. I got rid of the Modocs for you. I risked my life for you and Susan. I understand, Glenn. But, it’s like you said. Since we’re friends, I’ll make it quick and painless.”

  Then, as Wade stared at him, Sundance shot him between the eyes.

  Glenn Wade’s body fell back limply. Sundance looked down at him a moment. Then he turned away, spitting thick saliva on the lava. His knees were weak and trembling. He stood there for a second. Then he ran to Roane.

  The rancher lay sprawled on the lava, blood oozing from the bullet hole in his shoulder. Shock had knocked him out, but as Sundance pulled away his shirt, Roane came back to consciousness, and his eyelids peeled back. “Wade—”

  “Dead,” Sundance said.

  “Good,” Roane whispered. “After what he did to Susan ... She showed me the bruises ... I only wish ... I could have killed him.”

  “Be still,” Sundance said. “You’re hurt, but not too bad. I’ll get you back to your place.”

  Roane closed his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “No, please. Take me to Susan.”

  “All right,” Sundance said, ripping Roane’s shirt for bandages.

  He finished bandaging Roane’s shoulder. Roane’s breathing was heavy as Sundance ran down the lava corridor, found Eagle lashed up close to a pinnacle with a lass rope. He freed the big horse, led it and Roane’s bay up the lava seam. Beside Wade’s body, he knelt, yanked the top off of each breadbox. The boxes were crammed with Bechtlers, gold of private coinage. Sundance drew in a breath. Sixty thousand easy. Then he looked up at the sky. In its brassy blue, vultures were already circling.

  Sundance poured the gold into the panniers on Eagle’s rump. Then he got Roane to his feet, lashed him to the bay’s saddle. Mounted on Eagle, leading the bay, he rode slowly out of the lava. Behind him, the black birds wheeled lower.

  Chapter Ten

  Spring came late to these high mountains on the Idaho line, and when Sundance reached Joseph’s village with the woman, Nimena, Nehlo’s wife, there was still snow on the lower slopes of the mountains.

  The Nez Percé had camped in a sheltered valley, and their teepees were white blots in the open between walls of thick timber. Nearby, their horse herd grazed, containing many spotted animals like Eagle: they had bred the appaloosa for years.

  Two Nez Percé guards stopped him not far from the village. He spoke to them in their own language, and told them: “Take me to Thunder-Rolling-in-the-Mountains.”

  Before they could answer, a rider raced up the valley, drew his appaloosa to a skidding halt. He sprang off, ran forward. Clad in buckskins, a feather dangling from his hair, he was shorter than the other Nez Percé, and broader. It took a moment for Sundance to recognize him, but the woman did not hesitate. “Nehlo,” she whispered.

  He spoke her name, too, and while the guards looked on, pulled her down from the horse, held her to him. She cried a little as they embraced. She was not pretty, not by white or Cheyenne standards, but, in that moment, she seemed to flare with sudden beauty. Sundance, watching the two of them, decided it had all been worth it. He had not seen a man and woman look at each other like that since the wedding of Susan Wade and Don Roane. Somewhat later, Nehlo released his wife, came to Sundance and thrust up his hand. “You kept your promise. Thank you.”

  “For nothing. How is it here, with the Nez Percé?”

  “If we had been members of the tribe born, we could not have been made more at home. There is a freedom here that we have not known since we were children. And when we go east to run the buffalo—Aiiyah! I have never known such sport! And Wade? How is my friend Wade?”

  “Dead,” Sundance said. “I killed him.”

  Nehlo’s face went blank.

  “If I can spread my blankets in Chachisi’s lodge tonight—not yours”— Sundance grinned—“I will tell you about it.”

  “We’ll look forward to that.”

  “So will I. But first, I must see Chief Joseph.”

  Thunder-Rolling-in-the-Mountains, whom the white men called Joseph, looked across the fire inside the teepee at Sundance, and then at the Modocs also gathered around the blaze. Joseph was a young man and handsome, with deep-set eyes of great intelligence.

  “And so,” he said softly, “there is no hope of bringing the Modocs back to their own country?”

  “Not right away,” Sundance told him, “but I’m working on it.” He looked at Nehlo, Chachisi, and Beneko. “And on Barncho and Slolux, sent to prison on the Alcatraz Island for life. I hope I can get them out of there in a few years, not more than five.”

  “You went to great trouble on our behalf,” Chachisi said, “and it must cost a lot of money. The white men think of nothing but money. It is the only thing that makes them move.”

  “I have the money,” Sundance said; and he told them about the gold and how Wade had died.

  They listened in silence. Then Nehlo spat into the fire. “His woman was a good woman, even if his heart was bad. I hope she is happy.”

  “Very happy,” Sundance said. “She is married to the man named Roane. He can give her everything she never had with Wade. She loved Wade in the beginning, but he treated her so badly that her heart went to Roane. Still, she kept her bargain—until there was no bargain any longer to keep.” />
  “A good woman,” Nehlo said. Then, wordlessly, he rose and left, and everybody knew where he was going.

  The other Modocs also got to their feet. Chachisi halted in the doorway of the teepee. “The money,” he said. “It means nothing to us here. We are glad it can help our people in the Indian Territory.”

  Sundance did not tell them how many Modocs had already died of diseases to which they were not immune on that unfamiliar ground. He only nodded. Those Indians left, anyhow, each had a stake, something to work with.

  The Modocs went out. Chief Joseph stared into the fire. “And the Long Knives,” he said presently. “The Army?”

  “Partly because of the Modoc War, partly for other reasons, their hearts are set against the Indians.”

  “This I expected,” Joseph said. “I have been thinking. Someday, we may have to leave this country and go to the protection of the Queen.”

  “Canada,” Sundance said. “Yes. I hate to say it, but it may come to that.”

  “When we do, I hope the Long Knives will let us go in peace.”

  “They won’t,” Sundance said.

  “Then we will have to fight our way through. When that time comes, it would make me glad if you were with us.”

  “Maybe I will be,” Sundance said.

  “Meanwhile, you will stay with us? Soon we hunt buffalo.”

  Sundance shook his head. “I made a long trip to get Nehlo’s woman and bring her here. I have a woman of my own, in Cheyenne country. And soon the Cheyennes hunt the buffalo, and I am lonesome for my own people. I will stay tonight and one more. Then I ride south. But if you need me, send word and I’ll come to you.” He rose. “Now, I go to Chachisi’s lodge.”

  He left the teepee. Outside it, he stood for a moment, motionless. In the west, the sun was going down, and the snow-clad mountains blazed with splendor. Sundance stared at the sinking sun and shivered strangely, and then walked on through the Indian camp to the lodge where he would sleep.