Lords of the Plains

by Paul Bedford

  I possessed enough wit to realize that he was announcing his intentions. He was giving us the chance to at least attempt an escape. Then something happened that altered everything. Suddenly confident that they were on to something, the three plug-uglies shifted position around his prone body, so that they could also keep an eye on the rest of the building. As they did so, I got a clear view of one of their faces in the lamplight. Although badly in need of a shave, there was no disguising the fact that it was lean and sallow.

  ‘Elijah!’ I exclaimed only barely under my breath. So my former employee was now working as a hired thug. The question was, who for? Twisting around, I scrambled to the rear of the stall. ‘The time for hiding’s gone,’ I whispered rapidly, unsheathing my knife. ‘One of those pus weasels is our very own Elijah, his back turned on honest work. I’ll not run from the likes of him. When Percy gets to jawing again, we’re gonna take them at a rush. Without any gunplay mind, but remember, they’re here to do us harm, so fight mean. Are you with me?’

  Dan clambered to his feet, and drew his skinning knife. ‘That’s a hell of a thing to ask me, Josiah Wakefield!’

  Over at the front of the building, the ringleader prompted the stable hand with a sharp kick. ‘Well, out with it.’

  The time for dissembling had gone. ‘Some young fella turned up this afternoon. His clothes were still damp and he asked to hire a buggy. He had coin to pay, so he got what he wanted. Later on, two of them returned . . . with a heavy box, but I never saw what was in it. Honest, Mister.’

  As we left the stall silently, conveniently all eyes were exclusively on Percy. ‘And then what?’ came the entirely predictable question.

  To give him his due, the old soak gave us every chance to make our move. Drawing out each word, he replied, ‘You . . . won’t . . . believe . . . this, but . . . they’re . . . still. . . .’

  And then we were on them. Slamming into the back of the leader, I seized his lank hair, heaved his head back, and sliced my blade deep into his neck. Drowning abruptly in his own blood, the helpless thug didn’t even get chance to cry out. Dan’s prey was already on the turn when he reached him, so he had to content himself with jabbing his blade up to the hilt in a soft belly. As that man howled in agony, my friend forced him to the ground so as to smother his cries. And then I lost sight of him, because I was desperately conscious that we had taken on more than two gun thugs. Using my victim as a barrier, I turned to confront Elijah, my right hand now greasy with blood.

  The blow that struck my face full on had some real heft behind it. With pain exploding in my head, I toppled back, taking the dead man with me. Landing on the hard floor with him on top forced all the air out of my lungs, leaving me as powerless as a baby. Elijah drew his Colt Army to finish the job, but was momentarily stymied by my human shield. Then he caught sight of my bloodied features in the lamplight and froze with surprise.

  ‘Sweet Jesus, Wakefield!’

  That short reprieve doubtless saved my life, because before he could act further, Dan delivered a doozy of a sockdologer to the back of his head. Elijah grunted and crumpled to the floor, joining everyone other than my companion.

  Percy, unhurt and emboldened by the one-sided violence, was the first to get back on his feet. ‘Hot dang! You two sure lit into those fellas,’ he acknowledged appreciatively.

  I had floods of tears in my eyes, and blood and snot trickling over my jaw. I was convinced that my nose was broken, which didn’t sit well with me at all.

  As Dan heaved me upright, he seemed to be of the same opinion. ‘That Elijah’s busted you up pretty good!’

  Tentatively, I gently felt my battered features. In truth, nothing appeared to be moving that shouldn’t be, and I abruptly decided to leave well alone. There were, after all, far more important matters to consider. We now had two dead men on our hands, and the fate of a third to chew over. That fact was already working on Dan.

  ‘Jesus, I can’t believe it’s come to this,’ he opined. ‘What the hell are we gonna do with Elijah? We can’t just murder him in cold blood, can we? Can we?’

  Killing with a blade is about as intimate as it gets, so I understood his indecision entirely. When you live and work with a man, even for just a few weeks, everything becomes personal. So no, we couldn’t just slice Elijah up like a piece of meat. The other two had been different. They were merely nameless thugs.

  ‘We sure as hell can’t leave him here, though,’ I finally responded. Christ, my nose felt like it had taken an anvil strike. ‘Once he talks, he’ll bring someone’s wrath down on Percy, and we can’t allow that. So if we can’t kill him and we can’t dump him, that means he’s coming to the railhead with us. Who knows, he might stop a bullet meant for us. Now that would be justice!’

  So it was decided. We would remain in the stables until just before first light, and then, borrowing the buggy again, would transport our prisoner and the gold over to the railroad yard. Once on the supply train we would travel to the railhead and . . . do what exactly? That was my problem. Who could I trust?

  ‘What about these two stiffs?’ Dan queried. ‘Ain’t they gonna cause you all kinds of trouble, Percy?’

  ‘Nah,’ the old-timer remarked dismissively. ‘This town’s become a cesspit. Murders are commonplace. Time was I knew everyone living here by sight, but that’s all changed now. The railroad’s to blame. So anyone asks, I’ll just say I slept through the night after supping all this joy juice.’

  I patted him on the shoulder gratefully. ‘You’re a good man, Percy,’ I remarked with genuine warmth. Then to Dan I added, ‘Let’s get this cockchafer securely tied up before he comes to. And a kerchief around his mouth wouldn’t go amiss, either. We don’t want him bringing any more trouble down around us.’

  ‘Then what do we do ’til daybreak?’ Dan asked.

  To me, the answer was blindingly obvious. Indicating the two cadavers, I replied, ‘Those sons of bitches interrupted my shuteye. Both of us could use some more. So if I was you I’d hit the hay, unless all this blood bothers you.’

  ‘Only my own,’ was his glib response. ‘Although I’ll allow that your face could benefit from some work.’

  I spat a mixture of blood and phlegm on to the floor ruefully before going in search of a water bucket. ‘And ain’t that the truth!’

  Chapter Eight

  The short journey through the quiet streets to the extensive railroad yard had proved uneventful. As expected, the heavily laden supply train was almost ready to depart. The fireman had been feeding the boiler whilst the engineer checked the pressure. My mention of Jack Casement’s name, plus our own determined demeanour, silenced any objections to our presence from the crew. The fact that one of our number was bound and gagged only seemed to emphasize our bona fides. As a result, the three of us were now ensconced on a vast flatbed railroad car, surrounded by wooden crossties and iron rails. We were midway along the train, and so identical loads stretched off in either direction. There were no passenger carriages connected to it, which meant that other than the engine crew, we were the only people on board. Dan had tied Elijah to a thirty-foot iron rail weighing roughly six hundred pounds, so there was no possibility of his escaping.

  As the long supply train built up speed, black sooty smoke from the vertical smokestack was swept back on the wind, and I recalled just how unpleasant railroad travel could be. Wood burners were even worse, because flying sparks would often land on unlucky travellers. And yet, despite all that, it sure beat the hell out of riding to the distant railhead.

  It wasn’t until our mechanised transport had left Omaha’s city limits well behind that we got around to unfastening Elijah’s gag. And this time there was no evidence of his taciturn nature.

  ‘You dirty, lousy, stinking bastards! You got no call to beat on me and tie me up this way.’

  I regarded him with a total lack of sympathy, prompted by continued discomfort. ‘We’re supposed to let you plug us with lead then, is that it? And besides, look what yo
u’ve done to my damn face!’

  Elijah contemptuously spat on the floor. ‘That’s nothing. My boss says you’ve got an awful lot of something that don’t belong to you. Because of your dodgy dealings, he’s out of pocket, big style.’

  ‘Hah,’ I retorted. ‘And just who is your boss?’

  Elijah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wouldn’t you just like to know?’

  I sighed. I actually wanted to know very badly, but I had a headache and really wasn’t in the mood for games. ‘Fasten that gag back on him, Dan. Nice and tight,’ I ordered. ‘We’re wasting our time.’

  Our prisoner definitely wasn’t keen on that idea. ‘OK, OK. Just let’s jaw a bit more. I won’t sass you any.’

  I regarded him balefully. ‘As I recall, you weren’t usually one for conversation.’

  He scowled, took a deep breath and tried again. ‘Is that really gold you’ve got in that box?’

  Recognizing the mixture of greed and curiosity on his face, I decided that perhaps it was time to try a different tack. ‘Yes. Yes it is. But it belongs to the Union Pacific Railroad. It was taken by the Sioux in a raid, and whoever you’re working for knew this. He supplied them with repeating rifles in exchange for the gold and other things, knowing that he’d make a massive profit. The fact that men are dying because of it doesn’t seem to matter to him.’

  Elijah gazed at me in bewilderment. ‘But what’s all this got to do with you two? You’re just buffalo hunters . . . ain’t you?’

  ‘Not anymore,’ Dan answered, his chest swelling slightly with pride. ‘Ever since that Sioux raid on the railhead, me and Josiah have been working for General Dodge. We’re Indian fighters now!’

  As my former employee absorbed all this, I determined that it was time to pile on the pressure. ‘You’ve fallen in with a bad lot, Elijah, and you could yet swing for it. Our problem is that we don’t know just whom we’re up against. That’s why we fled Omaha. I reckon we’ll be a mite safer at the railhead. If you renounce your bad ways and help us, I’ll speak up for you. But first I need to know who your boss is.’

  ‘Too thin, Joe. Too thin,’ he proclaimed. ‘If I tell you what I know, that puts me in danger as well. He’ll think I’ve sided with you. I need guarantees. Something in writing from the top man. And you can start off by untying me.’

  With Dan waiting expectantly at my side, I stared long and hard at our devious prisoner. I had always suspected that he was far from a fool. What he knew would definitely assist us, but could I trust him not to stab me in the back at the first opportunity? ‘Gag him,’ I commanded.

  ‘You low-down, rotten. . .’ The material rammed back in his mouth choked off any more vitriol.

  Disappointed that I had not made any real headway with Elijah, I glanced around at the surrounding terrain. It was gratifyingly empty of any potential enemies. The engine had a full head of steam and we were making good time. We would reach the railhead well before noon. What kind of reception we would get was another matter entirely.

  ‘I’ve just realized something,’ Dan piped up brightly. ‘We’ve damn nearly completed a full circuit. South to the Sioux camp. East to the Missouri River. Then north to Omaha, and now we’re heading west, back to the railhead! Don’t that just beat all!’

  Despite our circumstances and the pain in my head, I had to laugh out loud. ‘Yes, Dan, I guess it does!’

  In spite of the constant clatter, both on and under the railroad cars, we had both drifted off to sleep under the warm sun, safe in the knowledge that our captive wasn’t going anywhere. Therefore the strident and maddeningly repetitive steam whistle came as a nerve shredding shock. Added to the din was the screeching of brakes, as our supply train slowed down noticeably. I could only imagine that we had slept for the rest of the journey, and that the railhead was now before us. What I actually saw came as one hell of a jolt.

  There wasn’t another human in sight. Instead, spread out before us, was a huge herd of buffalo, numbering into the thousands. The great, shaggy beasts had engulfed the railroad track, and showed little concern for the impatient, snorting Iron Horse that they had effectively halted.

  As the train finally came to a grinding halt, I clambered to my feet. This was ridiculous. Mankind’s most definitive invention brought to a standstill by a horde of primitive beasts. Glancing over at the engine, I caught sight of the fireman in the cab and bellowed over. ‘What’s to be done?’

  ‘There’s too many to just plough through them,’ he hollered back. ‘All we can do is blow the whistle and edge forward. This happens to us all the time.’

  The way he said that last bit implied that they just had to accept the situation, but that wasn’t near good enough for me. I knew a thing or two about buffalo, and wasn’t inclined to wait on their whims. Gesturing with my Sharps, I replied, ‘I haven’t got time for this. I’ll drop a couple of them near the track. That should spook the rest and get them on the move.’

  The startled fireman threw a salute at me, and turned away to inform the engineer. Cocking my weapon, I took aim at one of the creatures grazing peacefully near the locomotive. This was too easy. In the past, I had needed to keep my distance, so as not to alarm them, whereas now that was precisely the intention. With the butt tucked tightly into my shoulder, I drew in a breath, held it, and. . . .

  An abrupt cacophony of noise emanated from our left flank, and quite suddenly a herd of buffalo was the least of our worries. A large party of mounted Indians had come out of nowhere, and there could be no doubt as to their hostile intentions. In fact, it was quite probable that they had spotted the position of the herd on the railroad track and had decided to lie in wait. Uttering savage cries, they pounded towards what they thought would be easy pickings.

  Cursing, I squeezed both triggers, and was rewarded by a buffalo collapsing on the spot. The other animals stirred uneasily and began to edge away from the hissing steam engine. Rapidly, I recharged the breechloader, before roughly yanking the gag out of Elijah’s mouth.

  ‘We’re going to be fighting for our lives in a minute. If we cut you free, are you with us or against us?’

  It took mere seconds for the other man to make up his mind, because he too had heard the lurid stories of Indian atrocities. ‘With you, goddamn it,’ he barked out. ‘But I’ll need a gun!’

  ‘Cut him free,’ I snapped at Dan. ‘Give him your Spencer, and take this Henry.’ Since I still didn’t really trust Elijah, it made sense to at least give him the slower of the two repeaters.

  As the freed prisoner painfully stretched his aching limbs, I dropped another of the big shaggies, and abruptly the whole herd was on the move. ‘Get us the hell out of here,’ I hollered at the engine.

  Even over the noise in the cab, the crew had spotted the war party, and needed no further urging. The fireman grabbed his shovel and began frantically feeding the firebox, whilst the engineer set about working the control levers. As I reloaded again, the train began to move, but there was a tremendous amount of weight to pull. Instinctively, I realized that the Sioux would be upon us before we got up to speed. The buffalo were fleeing in a different direction, and so sadly would not hinder the approaching warriors.

  My companions had not yet opened fire. Sensibly they had waited for the fast moving horsemen to get within easy range. ‘Fire at the animals,’ I commanded. ‘All we need to do is hold them off until we’re moving again.’

  A ragged volley erupted from behind the iron rails, taking the warriors completely by surprise. Three ponies went down in agony, taking their riders with them. Startled at the unexpected resistance, the rest of them veered off and began to aim their own repeating rifles. Their horsemanship was simply superb, leading Elijah to offer a sour and very probably envious comment.

  ‘Who the hell do they think they are? The lords of the plains?’

  Bullets flew in our direction, but a pile of iron rails made for an excellent fortress, and none of us were injured. As the train began to pick up speed, the Sioux continued with their
original plan. Ignoring us, they raced on to the locomotive, and began to fire into the cab. Recognizing that if they killed the crew, we were all in big trouble, I came to a rapid decision.

  ‘Cover me. They need help and fast.’ With that, I slung the Sharps over my shoulder and clambered onto a pile of wooden crossties. Taking my life in my hands, I leapt from stack to stack. It was a precarious business, moving quickly over the various supplies, and one that wasn’t aided by the constant movement of the flatbed cars.

  Stopping to get my balance, I was just in time to see a warrior gallop to the side of the cab and literally fling himself on board, leaving his pony to its own devices. A firearm rang out inside, and the same figure was blasted back out of the cab, blood spurting from a chest wound. The fireman appeared brandishing a large horse pistol. Because of the increasingly frequent attacks, all the crews carried weapons. Aiming at another assailant, he fired, but the ball went wide.

  Dan and Elijah were shooting continuously, but because of the sharp angle and the intervening cars theirs was not an easy task. Then one of the Sioux, controlling his pony entirely with his legs, snapped off a well-aimed shot that lifted the top off the fireman’s head. As blood and brain matter splattered over the interior, the lifeless body tumbled from the cab. The horrific sight spurred me into action. If the engineer was also killed, then the whole supply train was in danger of running amok, because none of us had any idea of how to stop an engine. Once out of control, it would eventually plough into the railhead, slaughtering scores of workers . . . and us!

  Scampering like a demented monkey across the piled supplies, I safely crossed another two cars, until only the coal tender lay between the engine and myself. The Sioux were well aware that the train was gathering speed, because they had to work their ponies harder to keep pace with it. Unwilling to risk certain death by boarding the cars under Dan and Elijah’s guns, they made a last ditch attempt on the engine. A group of them drew level with it and unleashed a fusillade of arrows and bullets.