The Devil and the Deep

by Ellen Datlow

  Uncle JoJim was still riding in front. And as Calico Girl’s front hooves touched the rocky dirt of the gully, thirty feet from the wild-haired man and his glowing coals, Uncle JoJim raised his hand.

  “Hallo,” he called. “Captain William Thomas! Are you well, sir?”

  The tall man scowled, stepped around the fire, then stopped and struck the dirt with the base of his staff.

  “That’s far enough,” he said. His voice was a deep, wet growl.

  Uncle JoJim stopped Calico Girl fifteen feet from the man. Black-beard came up until his horse was abreast of Calico Girl, then also raised a hand and stopped. So Charley stopped Bird King, and Joshua stopped his roan. But Red-beard brought his gelding around the boys and up alongside Black-beard. And Charley saw that Red-beard’s hand was on the butt of his pistol.

  “Hell if that ain’t some kind of Federal coat,” Red-beard muttered.

  Black-beard glanced at Red-beard. “Stay quiet for now.”

  “I am sorry to disturb you, Captain Thomas,” Uncle JoJim continued. “But my nephew and I encountered these gentlemen, Mister Clark and Mister Barnett, out on the prairie. They wish to confer with you, as they are in need of provisions for their journey.”

  Captain Thomas remained stock-still and scowling.

  “You appear to be a savage,” he said. “How is it that you know my name?”

  Uncle JoJim removed his hat, hanging it on Calico Girl’s saddle horn. His hair, dark and straight like Charley’s, was plastered tight against his head.

  “We met some twenty years ago,” Uncle JoJim said, “in the far southwest of Kansas. Perhaps three hundred miles from this spot. I was with soldiers under attack from Comanches.”

  Captain Thomas’s expression did not change.

  “I recall the incident,” he said. “It was my first exposure to the fact that the Army is a pack of goddamned fools.”

  Red-beard chuckled. “On that, we are in agreement.”

  Black-beard glared at him. “What did I say?”

  Red-beard glared back. “Wasn’t speaking to you.”

  Beside Charley, Joshua said, “Pa?” in a worried tone. Both Red-beard and Black-beard looked back at him.

  At that, Uncle JoJim lowered his hand, and it brushed the shotgun scabbard behind his leg. Charley took a sharp breath.

  But Black-beard turned back toward Uncle JoJim. “Careful there, Injun,” he said. And Uncle JoJim’s hand moved away from the shotgun again.

  Captain Thomas did not seem to hear either Black-beard or Red-beard, or to notice what had just transpired. He remained focused on Uncle JoJim, who now spoke again.

  “The Army should have paid attention when you demonstrated your ship at Fort Leavenworth,” Uncle JoJim said. “Had they allowed you to build your fleet, their war might have been prevented. Or greatly shortened.”

  Captain Thomas was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Dismount and come closer.”

  Uncle JoJim obeyed, leaving his hat on the saddle horn. He murmured to Calico Girl, then stepped forward until he was five or six feet from Captain Thomas.

  “You have no right arm,” Captain Thomas said.

  Uncle JoJim said nothing.

  Captain Thomas gave a slow shake of his head, and the slight wind that came down into the gully lifted his long, wild gray hair for an instant.

  “I am sorry about that,” he said. “I thought you were a Comanche.” He scratched his jaw. “But at least I left you the other one.”

  Captain Thomas pointed his staff toward the wagon. “Come and sit. I have no chairs, but there are a few kegs. You’ll soon be glad of the shelter, as a storm is coming. Oh, and my dinner is just about cooked. There will be enough for all of us, as I was preparing for several days in advance.”

  He went back into the shadow under the wagon.

  Uncle JoJim turned toward Black-beard. “What are your wishes?”

  Black-beard dismounted. “We’ll do as the man suggests. But we won’t stay long, on account of the smell.” He gave Red-beard a quick gesture. “Have your boy tie the horses to those ridiculous wheels.”

  “But Charley’s animal ain’t got a bridle,” Joshua said.

  Red-beard dismounted as well. “So take a rope and loop it around the beast’s neck.” He looked at Charley and grinned. “That will be good practice.”

  Black-beard and Red-beard stepped up on either side of Uncle JoJim. “You heard the invitation,” Black-beard said. “Let’s go.”

  Uncle JoJim did not look back at Charley as he and the two bushwhackers disappeared under the wagon. And for the first time he could remember, Charley felt completely alone.

  “Well,” Joshua said as the men disappeared into the shadow, “I guess we should get down and tie the horses.”

  So Charley slid down, rubbed his itching face, and then reached up and grasped a strand of Bird King’s mane. He led Bird King to Calico Girl, took the mare’s bridle in his free hand, and brought the two horses to the big wheel at what he thought was the front of the wagon. Joshua led the other three horses to the rear wheel and tied their reins to it. Then he tossed Charley a six-foot piece of rope.

  “Do a good job,” Joshua said, “or Pa might get mad.”

  Charley looped Calico Girl’s reins around a wheel spoke thicker than his leg, tying them with a slipknot. Then he looped the rope around Bird King’s neck, knotted it, and tied the loose end next to Calico Girl’s reins with another slipknot. Together, the slipknots looked complicated and tight. Or so Charley hoped.

  Then he stepped between the two horses. For the moment, he was hidden from the men, and from Joshua as well. But he could hear Black-beard talking.

  “I may have heard of you, Mister Thomas,” Black-beard said. “This Injun’s comments have reminded me. Did you not solicit investors for an ‘Overland Navigation Company’ in Westport, Missouri, some fifteen years ago? And did you not lose them all when the Federals refused to embrace your fanciful schemes?”

  Charley shuddered at the ugliness of Black-beard’s voice, then stepped farther back between Bird King and Calico Girl until he stood beside the scabbard that held Uncle JoJim’s shotgun.

  Captain Thomas’s deep voice floated to him from the shadows. “First, sir, I am not ‘Mister’ Thomas. By virtue of decades in command of both government and private vessels in the Northern Atlantic and other regions, I am ‘Captain.’ Second, my plans for overland navigation were never fanciful, but wholly practical. All the world was once the sea, you know. And though the waters have partially receded, the same methods employed upon them for generations may also be employed upon the lands that once lay beneath them. Such as this vast prairie.”

  Black-beard and Red-beard both laughed then, and Charley’s reaction to the sound was to reach up and touch the shotgun. If he stretched on tiptoe, he might be able to pull it free.

  But then what? The shotgun was long and heavy, and Uncle JoJim had allowed him to fire it only once, at the beginning of today’s hunt. It had knocked Charley over, and he had found himself on his back in the grass, staring up at a patch of blue sky. The prairie chicken he had been trying to shoot had flown on through that blue patch, free and clear. Charley was pretty sure the bird had looked down and mocked him.

  But maybe now that he had fired the gun once, he could brace himself for its force.

  He rose on his toes as he heard a rumble of thunder to the south. And then he heard Joshua’s voice.

  “Are both barrels loaded?”

  Charley jerked back his hand. Joshua had come up beside the wagon wheel and was now standing between the necks of Bird King and Calico Girl, staring at Charley. He had spoken softly, and since they were between the horses, and thunder was rumbling, Charley didn’t think the men had heard.

  “Just one barrel is loaded,” Charley said. “Uncle JoJim used the other on this bird.” He touched the third chicken hanging from the left side of the saddle.

  Joshua shook his head. “That’s no good. You would have to kill both
my pa and Mister Barnett, real quick. So you’d need both barrels. Otherwise, whoever was left would cut off your scalp.” He tilted his head toward the other horses. “I saw Pa do it once. Both he and Mister Barnett have whole bags of scalps. They’re going to use them to trade with the Injuns between here and New Mexico.”

  Charley’s mouth had gone dry, but he forced himself to swallow. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

  “Yes, you were.” Joshua’s voice was even softer now. “You’re an Injun, and Pa says that’s what Injuns do. You think about how to kill white men. But if you try it like you have in mind, you’ll die. And that would make me sad. I ain’t had much chance to be around other boys, and I like it. I don’t even mind too much that you ain’t white.” He pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb. “Come on, now. Pa will be perturbed at us for being slow.”

  Joshua backed out the way he had come, and Charley followed. Bird King snuffled Charley’s neck as he passed by.

  Charley’s fingertips tingled. He wished he could have done it. He wished he could have taken the shotgun and used it on Black-beard and Red-beard. But Joshua was right. One barrel would not have been enough. So he supposed he was grateful that Joshua had stopped him.

  But he didn’t think he would have a chance to be grateful for long.

  As Charley and Joshua came away from Bird King and Calico Girl, Captain Thomas emerged from underneath the wagon again. He still carried his twisted ivory staff. The boys stopped at the rim of the wheel so as not to cross his path.

  “He’s sure tall,” Joshua whispered to Charley. “And ugly.”

  Charley stiffened. That had not seemed like a smart thing to say.

  But if Captain Thomas had heard, he gave no sign. “You gentlemen may remain seated if you like,” he called back into the shadow. “Forgive me for rising again so soon. But I smell rain, and I would prefer to take our dinner from the fire before it arrives.”

  He strode to the coals, slid the pointed end of his staff through a loop of wire in the hammered-tin dome, and swung the dome away from the grate. A cloud of smoke boiled up into the twilight.

  Black-beard and Red-beard came out from under the wagon with Uncle JoJim between them. Charley saw that Red-beard had drawn his pistol and had placed its muzzle against Uncle JoJim’s ribs.

  On his right side. Where Uncle JoJim had no arm. So he had no chance, not even a tiny one, of knocking the pistol away.

  In that instant, Charley found that he was no longer afraid. Now, he was just angry.

  Captain Thomas, with his back to the other men, set the tin dome on the dirt. He slid his pointed staff back from the wire loop, then used it to stab at something on the smoking grate.

  Black-beard gave Red-beard a glance. He stepped past Charley and Joshua and slipped between Calico Girl and Bird King.

  “The Neosho River is a few miles to the east,” Captain Thomas said. “And while its offerings cannot match the bounty of the sea, I have found it to be sufficient.”

  He spiked a long, blackened thing the size of a man’s arm, and he turned to face the wagon while holding it high. The coals behind him glowed scarlet.

  “I hope you like water moccasin,” he said.

  Red-beard made a gagging sound, but kept his pistol jammed into Uncle JoJim’s ribs.

  Captain Thomas’s brow furrowed. “Sir,” he said to Red-beard. “Why have you drawn your weapon?”

  At that moment, Black-beard came out from between the rumps of Calico Girl and Bird King. He was carrying Uncle JoJim’s shotgun.

  “I have a better question,” Black-beard said. “To wit: Just what in hell is that lance of yours? I’ve never seen the like, even among the Injuns. And I may want to buy it.”

  Captain Thomas shifted his gaze to Black-beard. And then he smiled, exposing his teeth for the first time.

  From where Charley stood, Captain Thomas’s teeth looked as if they had all been filed to sharp points. And they glistened.

  “I fashioned this harpoon from the tusk of a narwhal,” Captain Thomas said. “Not that you will know what that is. And it is not for sale.”

  Black-beard stepped a few yards closer and raised the shotgun. He pointed it at Captain Thomas’s chest.

  “That’s a shame,” he said.

  Red-beard spoke then, too. “Joshua, hold the boy.”

  Charley had taken a step toward Uncle JoJim. But now Joshua grasped both his wrists and pinned his arms behind his back.

  “I’m truly sorry,” Joshua whispered in Charley’s ear. “But I have to do what Pa says.”

  Captain Thomas was still holding the charred snake aloft on his narwhal tusk. And he was still grinning his sharp-toothed grin at Black-beard.

  “Well,” Captain Thomas said. “Will you do it, or not?”

  Black-beard cocked both hammers of the shotgun.

  Now Uncle JoJim spoke. “Before you fire,” he said, “I have a request to make of Captain Thomas.”

  Black-beard kept the shotgun trained on Captain Thomas, but said, “Go right ahead. For all the good it will do you.”

  Uncle JoJim looked at Captain Thomas. “You owe me a small debt, sir. I’ll ask for payment now.”

  Captain Thomas kept grinning at Black-beard, but he answered Uncle JoJim. “Proceed, Mister James.”

  Uncle JoJim gestured toward the two geldings and the mare that Joshua had tied to the wagon’s rear wheel. “Spare the horses.”

  One of Captain Thomas’s shaggy gray eyebrows rose.

  “I cannot promise,” he said.

  Black-beard gave a growl.

  “Enough of your shit,” he said. Then he pulled the shotgun’s front trigger.

  A gout of blue and yellow flame spat from the shotgun’s right barrel, and there was a sound like a thunderclap. The shot caught Captain Thomas square in the chest, and he fell backward onto the fire grate. His coat was peppered with black holes over his heart, and two of its brass buttons were gone. The narwhal tusk was still clutched in his right fist.

  Charley stared at the dirty, callused soles of Captain Thomas’s feet as the man’s coat began to smolder and his wild hair began to burn.

  Overhead, lightning webbed through the storm clouds rolling in from the south.

  Black-beard lowered the shotgun. “Damn it to hell,” he said. “Sam, go drag that son of a bitch from the fire. It’s like to burn off his hair, and then that scalp won’t be any use.”

  Red-beard stared at Black-beard. “You think I want to get burned any more than you do?”

  “Make the Injun do it, then.”

  “But you said to kill him once you’d shot the lunatic.”

  “Well, sweet Jesus, you haven’t done it yet, have you?” Black-beard said. “So send him over to pull that goddamned carcass away! He does anything but, and we can both shoot him.”

  Red-beard took his pistol from Uncle JoJim’s ribs and gave him a shove. “Go on. Bring that Yankee out of there before his hair burns, and maybe you’ll get to live a little longer.”

  Uncle JoJim started for the fire. But he gave Charley a sharp look.

  “My shotgun has left its scabbard,” he said.

  Charley knew what that meant. Uncle JoJim wanted him to jump onto Bird King and ride for home. But how was he supposed to do that? Joshua was holding him tight.

  “I feel you pulling,” Joshua whispered. “Just be still, and you’ll be all right. Maybe you can be Pa’s slave.”

  Uncle JoJim approached the hot coals and crouched with his arm stretched out. He turned his face away from the heat, wincing, and grasped Captain Thomas’s left ankle.

  “Be quick about it,” Black-beard said.

  Uncle JoJim leaned away from the fire and yanked Captain Thomas from the grate. The force of it made Uncle JoJim fall to the ground, and Captain Thomas’s feet came to earth on either side of him.

  Captain Thomas pivoted upright, his coat and hair enveloped in a halo of smoke. His eyes blazed like coals. His sharp-toothed grin was a twisted rictus.
<
br />   Black-beard gave a bellow and raised the shotgun again.

  At that moment, a white spike of lightning struck the hilltop to the west, and the thunderclap was like the report of a cannon. As the sudden flash illuminated the gully, Captain Thomas’s right arm whipped forward and threw the narwhal-tusk harpoon.

  The harpoon stabbed through the air and spiked into Red-beard’s groin. Its point emerged from the seat of his trousers, and Red-beard’s arms flew up. His pistol shot a small flame toward the sky and then fell away. Red-beard collapsed backward, and the point of the narwhal tusk buried itself in the dirt. Red-beard was pinned to the ground with the blackened water moccasin burning against his crotch. His hat rolled away on its crisp brim.

  Red-beard’s legs twitched, and his arms flailed. His eyes bulged, and his mouth opened wide. He screamed like a goat being slaughtered.

  “Pa!” Joshua cried. He released Charley’s wrists and started toward Red-beard.

  Black-beard gave a bellow and raised the shotgun, once again aiming at Captain Thomas. He pulled the second trigger, but nothing happened.

  Captain Thomas, his coat and hair smoking, stepped over Uncle JoJim toward Black-beard.

  Black-beard dropped the shotgun and fumbled in his belt for his pistol.

  Uncle JoJim was giving Charley another look.

  Charley spun and ran back to where Calico Girl and Bird King were tied. He jerked on Calico Girl’s reins to free their slipknot from the wheel spoke, then yanked the end of the rope to free that slipknot as well. Then he jumped up, grasped Bird King’s mane, and pulled himself onto the stallion’s back.

  Bird King jumped backward and wheeled, and the end of the rope whipped into the air. Charley slapped Calico Girl’s rump as they passed, and she began to wheel as well.

  As Bird King galloped past Black-beard, the rope snapped into the man’s wrist, and his pistol whirled away into the fire. Black-beard shouted, then ran for the three tied horses.

  Captain Thomas, still smoking and grinning, changed direction and kept walking toward Black-beard.

  Charley tugged Bird King’s mane to bring him to a halt beside Uncle JoJim, who was getting to his feet.