Stone Hand

by Charles G. West

  “You yellow dog, untie me and we’ll see how strong your medicine is.”

  Jason received a kick in the stomach for his retort. Stone Hand laughed when Jason doubled up from the blow. “Jason Coles, big Indian hunter, I was going to kill you now but I think I will let you watch me mount your woman once more before I take your scalp.” He placed his foot beside Jason’s face and shoved him over on his side. After checking his bonds to make sure they were secure, he left his two captives to hunt for food.

  Jason waited until Stone Hand had ridden out of camp before he spoke to Sarah. She was sobbing uncontrollably now that her attacker had left her. Jason was afraid the tragic incident might have destroyed her mind. When he tried to talk to her she seemed not to even hear him.

  “Sarah, listen to me. Can you get loose?” She did not answer. “Sarah, I know it was a terrible thing but you’re still alive. That’s what you have to concentrate on now.” Even while he said it, he knew both of them were as good as dead. It was just a question of time before Stone Hand decided to execute them. Still he tried to calm the hysterical girl. “Sarah, don’t think on what he did to you. You’ll go crazy if you do. We’ve got to try to save ourselves if we can. He’ll be back before long. Can you get loose?”

  Gradually her crying subsided and she was quiet for a few minutes. Then she spoke, her voice almost cracking. “I can’t get loose. I can’t even move.”

  “All right, all right…” He tried to sound calm. At least she was thinking rationally now. “Sarah, listen. I’m sorry I let myself get taken like this but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I’m tied up tighter’n hell. And, if I know that buck’s way of thinking, he ain’t gonna give me a chance to get loose before he takes a knife to my throat.” He paused when he saw tears beginning to well up in her eyes again. “Get ahold of yourself, girl. You’ve got to get your wits about you if you want to come out of this alive.”

  “He’s going to kill us. What can we do?” Her voice was cracking with fear.

  “Sarah, listen to me. I wish I could paint you a pretty picture but it’s time to face the truth of this situation. You’re right. He’s going to kill us. But you still have a chance if you have the courage to fight for your life.”

  “What?” She almost screamed it. “What do you mean? I can’t fight him!”

  Jason remained calm. “I don’t know what chance I have. He may decide to cut my throat and be done with it as soon as he gets back. Ain’t nothing I can do about it. But you may have a chance. He’s gonna come after you again before he kills you.” Her eyes opened wide with fright and he heard her gasp. “I’m sorry, Sarah, but there’s no time to be afraid. He has to untie your feet again to do it and he’ll probably untie your hands again instead of leaving them behind your back like that.” It began to appear that he was losing her again. He could see the signs of shock in her eyes. “Sarah, are you all right? You’ve got to be strong, girl. This is the only chance you’ve got. You’re the only one with a chance to save yourself.”

  “I can’t.” She sobbed. “I can’t fight that beast!”

  “You’ve got to or you’re dead! He ain’t gonna take no wife. This is the only chance you’ll have.” She looked at him as if he were a madman. When he was sure she was calm again, he said, “Sarah, the only chance you have is to get him where he’s weakest, where any man is weakest.”

  It took but a moment before she realized what he meant. “I can’t…” She didn’t finish.

  “Yes you can. It’s either that or die.” Time was running out, there was no point in being subtle. “Sarah, when he comes at you, you’ve got to hurt him. It’s life or death, remember that.”

  “Jason, I can’t…I’m afraid…I don’t think I could even try.”

  “Well, if you can think of any other way to save yourself, I’d like to hear it. He ain’t likely to take you along with him.”

  Further discussion was interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats and within a few seconds Stone Hand rode into the camp.

  The savage dismounted, keeping a wary eye on Jason. He immediately checked the bonds of his two captives. Content that all was as he had left it, he held up a small rabbit he had killed. Throwing it at Sarah’s feet, he said, “I will eat now. Prepare this rabbit, woman!”

  Sarah could not understand his words. She didn’t know what the savage wanted. She was further confused when he reached down and cut her hands free of the thongs that bound them. She looked to Jason for help.

  “She don’t talk Cheyenne,” Jason said. “She don’t know how to skin a rabbit anyway.”

  Stone Hand looked at him in disbelief. “Then what good is she?” He looked back at Sarah and roared, “What good are you?” She tried to shrink back away from his wrath but could not escape the blow he administered to her face. Then he leered at Jason. “She is useful for only one thing, white man.”

  Jason was desperate to try anything so he said, “Untie my hands and I’ll skin your rabbit for you.”

  Stone Hand threw back his head and laughed. “Jason Coles, you would be my squaw? You want me to untie your hands? I am not stupid.”

  So they watched in silence while he cooked his rabbit, squatting in front of the fire opposite them. When it was done to his satisfaction, he ate it. He said nothing while he ate, stopping only once when Sarah reached down to ease the rawhide straps around her ankles. He fixed her with a look that caused her to withdraw her hand from her ankles immediately, like a child who receives a stern look from a parent.

  After he had sucked the last bit of meat from the bones of the rabbit, he stood up and emptied his bladder at the edge of the campfire. Sarah turned her head to avoid looking at him, which amused the savage and he stepped closer to her while he finished. She closed her eyes in an effort to shut him out. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her head back, causing her to scream. He drew his scalping knife from his belt and held it before her eyes, now wide with fright. In one quick thrust, he cut the bonds that held her feet together. “I think your white man wants to see you breed again, coyote bitch.” He replaced his knife and pulled her skirt up to her waist. “This time is your last if you don’t please me.”

  Jason called out to her. “Sarah—”

  “No talk!” Stone Hand roared, furious at Jason’s insolence. He threw the terrified girl aside long enough to walk over to deliver a hard kick into Jason’s stomach. When he returned, Sarah tried to back away, her eyes almost glazed with fright. Jason rolled over, trying to see her face and was at once dismayed at the fear he saw in her eyes. He had seen that look in the eyes of a fawn cornered by a mountain lion. It was an expression close to hysteria.

  He could see their one chance for survival vanishing. She was too terrified to act. With one last look of contempt for Jason, Stone Hand prepared to attack his victim again.

  Then she did it. She suddenly thrust her hands upward between his legs, screaming in defiance.

  Stone Hand’s reaction was explosive. He bellowed with the pain that stopped him cold. Stunned and angry, he at first tried to back away from the desperate girl’s clutches. But she held on, realizing the leverage she now held over her attacker. Almost blinded by the pain, Stone Hand tried to strike her but the sudden increase in pressure she retaliated with brought him to his knees again and he tried to grab her wrists and free himself. She responded by attacking as hard as she could. He collapsed, helpless and humiliated, no longer caring about pride or dignity. Encouraged by the advantage she now realized she held, she continued to punish the savage until he could no longer stand it and lost consciousness.

  Now their situation was changed but still desperate. The Cheyenne was evidently helpless for the moment but for how long Jason could only guess. He had never seen a man rendered unconscious in this fashion before. Sarah’s first reaction upon seeing the man lose consciousness was to retreat immediately. But knowing he would kill her for sure now, she determined to keep her advantage.

  Jason started inching hi
s way toward Sarah by working his bound hands and feet back and forth, dragging himself along the ground. “You did a brave thing, girl. Just don’t let go now. I’m coming.” He dragged himself up close to her. “Quick, take his knife and cut me loose.” For a moment, he wondered if she had nerve enough left to do it. Her eyes were glazed as if she were in a trance. Then she looked at him and nodded, reached for the knife, and began sawing through his bonds. In a matter of seconds he was free.

  “He’s starting to move!” she whispered. “He’s waking up!”

  Moving swiftly now, Jason took the knife and cut the rawhide thongs from his ankles. He tied the thongs securely around Stone Hand’s wrists and ankles and lashed them tightly behind his back. That done, he took a step backward and said, “He ain’t going nowhere now.” He looked back at Sarah and she seemed to have fallen back into a trancelike state.

  “You did a brave thing, Sarah. Not many women could have done that.”

  She sat there, her head down, saying nothing. She stared at her right hand as if it did not belong to her. Then, instinctively, she scrubbed it on the hard sand and wiped it on her skirt. It was at that moment that she became aware of her near-nakedness and hurriedly clutched her clothing around her. She felt dirty and even though she had saved herself from further assault she felt as though her life was ended. And then she was sick. Dragging herself away from the fire, she retched repeatedly—her stomach, though empty, trying to expunge the disgust and abhorrence inside her.

  Jason watched her closely. He was afraid the incident had driven her out of her mind. She would not be the first woman to go crazy after an assault by a savage. “Sarah,” he said her name softly. She did not respond, seeming not to hear. “Sarah,” he repeated. “Look at me, Sarah.” He reached out and gently turned her chin toward him, forcing the shattered girl to look at him. “Sarah, it’s over. You’re safe now and what you did was what you had to do. You saved my life and I’m mighty grateful for that. Now you’ve got to let it go.” She continued to stare into his eyes. Gradually he saw her pupils contract and she seemed to acknowledge his words. He breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared she was going to be all right. “Good girl,” he said softly. He wet a piece of her torn blouse from the canteen and cleaned her face.

  * * *

  Stone Hand had never known such fury and hatred before. The humiliating defeat he had suffered at the hands of a woman had at first totally confused his mind to the extent that he was not sure exactly what had happened to him. He had never experienced pain so devastating and incapacitating before, so intense that he lost consciousness. When he regained his senses and found himself tied hand and foot, and now the white man’s captive, he was almost blind with anger. This monumental insult must be avenged for he could not live with it on his conscience. He would free himself no matter what it took and take restitution on the two hated whites. The woman’s death would be slow and painful. He promised himself that.

  Jason studied the sullen Cheyenne raider and contemplated his options as far as what action he should take. As he watched the notorious murderer, sitting motionless, staring at the far horizon, he knew what he wanted to do. His inclination was to shoot the mad dog, put a bullet through his twisted brain, and do the world a favor. He glanced at Sarah, who was equally as sullen as the savage, forcing herself to eat the jerky left in Jason’s saddle pack. That was all they had to eat since Sarah would not permit Jason to leave her alone with the prisoner while he hunted for game. She had not voiced an opinion but he felt certain she would rather he shot the Indian now. But he knew Colonel Holder wanted Stone Hand to stand trial so the reservation Indians would see him as a criminal and witness his hanging. It was a distasteful choice but he determined he would take him back alive and let the army punish him.

  When they were ready, Jason lifted the prisoner up onto his horse. Then he helped Sarah up on the horse that had carried her away from the Cheyenne village. He himself rode Sam Running Fox’s paint. They started back to Camp Supply. They had ridden only a half day’s ride when they met Colonel Holder and the cavalry patrol.

  The reunion between father and daughter was awkward. Colonel Holder, while a caring father, was not a man to show deep feelings. And a lifetime of discipline in not showing emotion added to the stony countenance he displayed upon greeting his daughter. To be sure, he embraced Sarah and expressed concern for the ordeal she had survived. But in Jason’s opinion the man did not demonstrate the compassion needed to provide Sarah with the assurance that her soul should not be damaged by the episode with Stone Hand. After a brief fatherly hug, the colonel assigned a party of troopers to escort Sarah back to meet an ambulance that was trailing the column. Sarah, for her part, seemed at a loss. Upon first seeing her father, she sobbed uncontrollably and rushed to receive his consolation. Jason could see the confusion and disappointment in her face when her father briefly patted her and after asking if she was all right, gave her another little squeeze before shuttling her off with the escort. As she was leaving, she glanced quickly at Jason and he tried to smile reassuringly.

  “I’ll see you back at Supply, Sarah. Everything’ll be all right. You just try to get some rest.”

  She did not reply but stared at him for a moment before nodding her head and following the troopers. He noticed that she avoided looking at the sullen figure of Stone Hand, seated motionless on his horse, his hands still bound behind his back.

  Colonel Holder stood watching his daughter ride away until she and her escort had disappeared beyond a hill. Then he turned to Jason. “Well, Coles, I guess I owe you thanks for bringing my daughter back.”

  “No, sir,” Jason replied. “It’s the other way around. She’s the one who saved my bacon. If it wasn’t for that little girl’s spunk, I’d be feeding the coyotes right now.”

  “Was she violated?” He asked in a low voice, not wishing to be overheard by his soldiers.

  “Colonel, she was, and I’m right sorry to have to tell you that. But she ain’t dead. That’s the main thing.”

  “Damn!” His voice still low, he shook his head and uttered the oath again. “Damn!”

  Jason wasn’t sure whether the man was genuinely sorry for his daughter or concerned about the stigma he felt might be attached to himself. He felt compelled to chastise the colonel for what he considered a grave lack of compassion for the young lady after what she had just gone through. “Colonel, that’s one helluva fine little lady there. She did a helluva thing to save both of us. You should be proud of her.”

  “I am, I am,” he quickly responded, then immediately turned his attention to the captive. “So this is the devil they call Stone Hand.” He walked over to the morose savage, staring straight ahead as if seeing beyond the horizon. “You son of a bitch! Your murdering days are over. I personally will hold the rope that hangs you.” Stone Hand continued to stare straight ahead. Colonel Holder turned to a young lieutenant and ordered, “Mr. Harris, take charge of the prisoner.”

  As Stone Hand was led away, he glanced briefly at Jason and snarled. “Do not think it is finished.”

  “If it was my decision to make, you’d be dead already,” Jason replied.

  “You will both die, you and the woman.” There was no time for more talk before a trooper led his horse away.

  CHAPTER 8

  For the first time in her life, Sarah Holder was afraid to be alone at night. When she had arrived at Camp Supply, her father had her own tent set up for her and that was the way she preferred it. Now she seemed to fear every shadow that fell with evening’s gloom. There were only a few other women in the camp. Of these, Sergeant Major Kennedy’s wife was the first one to step forward and take Sarah under her wing. Cora Kennedy was an army wife, as much a veteran as her crusty husband, and she quickly saw the young girl’s need for a female’s care. As soon as she got one look at the devastated girl when she was brought back to camp in the ambulance, she knew Colonel Holder would not have the slightest notion about healing Sarah’s wounds. Cora was at on
ce aware of the deep scars that had been inflicted upon the girl’s mind and she wasted little time in ordering Sarah’s tent struck and moved next to her own. Sarah was grateful for Cora’s support and willingly escaped into the open arms of the sergeant major’s wife.

  Colonel Holder was somewhat dismayed with his daughter’s apparent dependence upon Mrs. Kennedy. He could not understand why Sarah resisted his urging to return East immediately. He would have thought she would be all too eager to escape from the scene of her brutal attack. He felt compassion for his daughter, but at the same time he could not help but feel it an injury to himself that his daughter had been violated by a savage Indian. He would not admit it, even to himself, but he would feel much more comfortable if the reminder of that insult to his person was removed from his sight.

  A week had passed since her return to Camp Supply and while she was making some progress in her recovery, there was a stain on her mind that she feared she could never remove. She knew that she had been scarred by the ordeal suffered at the brutal hands of the Cheyenne. Try as she might, she could not escape the feeling that she was soiled beyond cleaning. When she allowed it—lying awake at night, or even during periods of the day when she was alone—her mind would reach out and snatch her back to that terrifying moment. She could still feel the searing penetration of her body and the horror that even now was alive and real. She would soon find herself reduced to a shuddering shell, fighting to free her mind of its burden. She wondered if her mind would ever be free of it.

  Everyone in the camp made a special effort to be nice to her but she could still feel their stares whenever they thought she was not looking. Her father seemed unusually cold to her. His one thought seemed to be that she should leave. And she was not ready to leave. She did not feel she was healed inside and she wanted to stay near the only person who understood her feelings, Cora Kennedy. Cora mothered her and talked to her and tried to keep her busy helping her cook and clean and sew. Then, too, there was the matter of Stone Hand. Somehow she felt she would never be free of her feelings of guilt and defilement until the savage was dead. So she could not leave until the monster was executed.