Frontier America

by William W. Johnstone

  “I’m not going to kill any of those troopers,” Jamie replied with an obvious strain in his voice. “They’re just following orders.”

  “The orders of a fella who’s plumb loco and kill-crazy,” muttered Preacher.

  “You’re right about that. And I don’t blame Broken Pine and his people for defending their homes, no matter what it takes.”

  Broken Pine said, “You are a good man, Jamie MacCallister. A good man does not go against his honor. You should go to the canyon and help Hawk That Soars and the men he took with him protect the women and children, if the need to do so arises.”

  “I reckon I could do that, all right,” Jamie said. “Protecting the women and children always comes before anything else.”

  “Go, my friend,” Broken Pine said, and Preacher clapped a hand on Jamie’s shoulder for a second. Jamie took a deep breath and then nodded.

  Quickly, Broken Pine told him how to find the canyon. Jamie stood up and faded off into the shadows, moving fast. Preacher turned his attention back to the attackers. He frowned as the hoofbeats diminished and then stopped.

  Broken Pine sounded equally puzzled as he said, “Why have they stopped? I thought they were going to charge across the river and attack us.”

  “So did—” Preacher began. Then as a possibility occurred to him, he stopped abruptly and shouted in the Crow tongue, “Everybody down!”

  Preacher had barely gotten out the warning and dived to the ground, taking Broken Pine with him, when a wave of gunfire erupted from the far side of the stream. A long, continuous line of orange muzzle flashes tore the night apart. Preacher heard rifle balls whining through the air, whipping through the brush, and thudding into tree trunks.

  Even worse, he heard Crow warriors cry out in pain as they were hit.

  While the echoes from the volley still filled the air, men on horseback charged into the river and headed toward the Crow village. They were more than halfway across, shouting at the tops of their lungs, before the defenders recovered enough from the battering they had taken to start putting up a fight. Arrows began flashing through the air and struck a few of the soldiers. Here and there, a trooper screamed, threw up his arms, and toppled off his horse.

  Nearly all of the attackers reached the shore, though. They wheeled their horses and began firing pistols at the rocks, trees, and brush where the Crow warriors had taken cover. Some of the dragoons rushed in and started hacking at their enemies with sabers.

  Preacher and Broken Pine had been unharmed during the volley. They came up behind the log and opened fire on the attackers, Broken Pine with his bow and arrows, Preacher with the twin Colts roaring and bucking in his hands.

  But even as he blasted away at the soldiers and saw some of them fall, Preacher felt the same unease Jamie MacCallister had professed. These young troopers weren’t to blame for this situation. They were just expendable pawns in the ambitious hands of Lieutenant Edgar Davidson. Preacher couldn’t stand by and allow them to massacre his friends and family, but he took no joy in the shots he fired at them.

  “There are many of them!” Broken Pine cried as he nocked another arrow and let it fly.

  Preacher knew the chief was right. And Davidson, despite all his faults, had made an effective move by having some of his men dismount and rake the defenders with rifle fire before the rest of the troop charged among them. The Crow would put up a good fight, but the soldiers held the advantage.

  “Maybe you’d better pull back to that canyon!” he suggested. “You can hold them off better there!”

  Broken Pine leaped to his feet, yipped shrilly to get his warriors’ attention, then bellowed the order to retreat in the Crow tongue. All along the river, men began to break off the fighting and raced away from the stream.

  It must have looked like an out-of-control rout to the soldiers. They yelled enthusiastically and started after the fleeing defenders.

  Preacher raked them with revolver fire, fighting a one-man delaying action as he darted among the shadows. Broken Pine was at his side, and then suddenly Big Thunder was, too, and the three of them blunted the troopers’ pursuit with a deadly flurry of gunfire and flashing arrows.

  Since Preacher didn’t know exactly where the hideout canyon was, he let his companions lead the way. That was an unusual situation for the mountain man—he was normally in the forefront of everything—but tonight he had no choice.

  They might not have made it if the soldiers hadn’t fallen back to regroup. Preacher knew he and his Crow allies had inflicted quite a few casualties among the troopers, but they had suffered heavy losses of their own, too. They’d also had to leave some of the wounded warriors behind, and that was very difficult for the Crow to do.

  As Jamie had said, though, the defense of families always came first.

  It took a quarter of an hour for Preacher, Broken Pine, and Big Thunder to reach the canyon. The group of women and children from the village hadn’t been able to move as fast, so they had barely reached the refuge before the retreating warriors caught up with them. Preacher and the other two found guards waiting just inside the canyon’s entrance, which was clogged with brush and boulders. The brush was natural, shielding the opening from casual notice, and had been left in place by the Crow. They had rolled the boulders into the entrance to provide cover for defenders and make it more difficult for anyone to invade this sanctuary.

  Preacher took all this in at a glance, recognizing the strategic advantages of the place—and its disadvantages. Having only one way in and out made it easy to defend, but at the same time, they were trapped here.

  Jamie MacCallister stepped out from behind one of the boulders to greet them. Hawk was waiting there at the entrance, too, and Broken Pine asked him, “Are all the women and children here safely?”

  “They are,” Hawk replied. “They are all frightened, but not harmed. The soldiers?”

  “Big Thunder and his friends killed many of them!” the massive warrior declared. “The others ran away in fear!”

  Preacher scratched his beard-stubbled jaw and said, “That ain’t exactly the way it was. They lost some men, sure . . . but I reckon we probably lost more. And they had us outnumbered to start with.”

  “They cannot get to us here,” Broken Pine said. “There is a spring at the far end of the canyon for water, and we have cached enough food here to last for days. A large overhang provides shelter from the elements for the women and children, and because of it, men cannot fire down from the rim of the canyon at them.”

  “So you’re safe for a while,” Preacher said, “but if Davidson decides to lay siege to the place and outlast you . . .”

  “Someone is coming!” one of the guards called softly.

  Everyone swung around as a voice Preacher recognized called in English, “Don’t shoot!”

  “That’s Lieutenant Tyler,” Jamie said.

  Broken Pine called out in Crow for the guards at the entrance to hold their fire. He said to Jamie, “Tell him to come in—if he is alone.”

  “We hear you, Lieutenant,” Jamie called. “Are any of the troopers with you?”

  “No,” Tyler replied from the shadows. “The warrior guarding us went to join the fight when Davidson attacked. I got out of the lodge, but Berriman was too scared to come with me. He wanted to wait there for the rest of the troop to rescue him. But when I realized you were retreating in this direction, I followed.”

  “Come on in, then,” Jamie told him. A moment later, Tyler appeared from the darkness and joined the others behind the cluster of boulders.

  “I’m sort of surprised to see you here, Lieutenant,” said Preacher. “You could’ve stayed right where you were and the soldiers would’ve found you.”

  “And then Edgar Davidson would have ordered me to fight you, and I would have had to obey,” Tyler said. “I didn’t want to do that.”

  “So you’ve deserted to the enemy,” Jamie said. “That’s the way the army will see it, and they’re not going to look kindly on
that.”

  “Edgar’s lost his mind! I hate to say that, I really do, but he wasn’t sent out here to make war on the Crow. It was a simple diplomatic mission, but he’s made things worse at every turn. Now he’s out for blood, and he’s wrong. He’s no longer fit to be in charge.”

  “What do you reckon we ought to do about that?” Preacher drawled.

  “There’s only one thing we can do if we’re to have any hope of ending this without a lot more bloodshed,” Tyler said. He looked around at the others in the fading moonlight. “I’m going to relieve him of command.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The rest of the night dragged by without any more fighting. Jamie figured Lieutenant Davidson was using the time to assess his losses, secure any prisoners who had been taken during the battle, and plan his next step.

  Inside the canyon, the Crow and their three white allies did much the same thing, except they didn’t have any prisoners.

  As the sun rose and flooded the mouth of the canyon with light, Jamie, Preacher, Lieutenant Hayden Tyler, Hawk, Broken Pine, and several other experienced warriors met in a council of war.

  Jamie asked the young officer, “Just how confident are you that enough of those soldiers will follow your orders if you take over for Davidson?”

  “I’m confident that some of them will,” Tyler replied. “Corporal Mackey, for one, and I believe Corporal Briggs will, as well. They wield some influence among the men. And don’t forget, this is my troop. They’ve been used to taking orders from me.”

  “O’Connor will never cooperate. You’re going to have to relieve him of command, too. And he’ll fight it.”

  Tyler nodded and said grimly, “I know that. We’ll do whatever is . . . necessary.”

  “You’d better be mighty sure about actually wantin’ to take this step before you do,” Preacher advised. “Once you do, there won’t be no comin’ back from it. If you make it back alive, Davidson’s gonna insist you be court-martialed.”

  “I’ll take my chances if that happens. I have to think that a board of inquiry will see I had no choice but to take command. If they decide otherwise . . .” Tyler shrugged. “I’ll spend years behind bars, assuming I’m not taken out and shot. But I’d rather risk that than have this useless killing on both sides go on for any longer than it already has.”

  “This is an honorable thing you say,” Broken Pine put in. “But it will accomplish nothing unless the soldiers do as you say.”

  “Only one way to find out,” said Preacher. “We’ve got to get our hands on Davidson and O’Connor.” He looked at Jamie. “That sounds like a job for you and me.”

  “And me,” Hawk added.

  “And I’ll have to be there to take command,” Tyler said. “Otherwise, it’s all for nothing.”

  Before they could discuss the situation further, one of the sentries gave a birdcall that served as a warning signal. When they hurried over, the warrior slid down from the top of the boulder where he had been perched and dropped to the ground beside them.

  He pointed and said in Crow, “Soldiers come.”

  Nature had cut the canyon into the eastern side of a long ridge that ran roughly north and south. In front of the entrance, stretching several hundred yards to a thick growth of trees that marked the course of the river, lay an area of open, mostly level ground. The dragoons had emerged from those trees and sat their horses just out in the open.

  Preacher peered across at them and said, “They’re too far away to get an accurate count, but I’d say there are about sixty of the varmints.”

  “They’re not varmints,” snapped Jamie. “They’re members of the United States Army. And they’re not to blame for Davidson and O’Connor being such bastards.”

  “You can talk all you want about’em just followin’ orders,” Preacher said with anger grating in his voice, “but that don’t change the fact that they attacked my friends and family for no good reason.”

  Lieutenant Tyler said, “This whole thing has been a tragedy of misunderstandings from the first. My God, does it always have to be like this? Can’t people of good faith on both sides find a way to get along?”

  “You won’t find any good faith in Davidson or O’Connor,” Preacher said. “They don’t care who gets hurt as long as they get what they want. What they feel like they’re entitled to.”

  Jamie couldn’t disagree with what Preacher said. He knew the mountain man was right.

  “Riders,” Hawk said. “They bear a white flag.” He looked at Preacher. “That means they wish to talk without fighting?”

  “That’s what it means, all right. But it sure as hell don’t mean we can trust ’em.”

  Four men on horseback had pushed out ahead of the main body of soldiers. One rode slightly ahead of the other three, and he held a staff with a white flag attached to it. Not much wind was blowing this morning, and as a result, the signal for truce hung limply, only flapping a little now and then.

  “I’ll go see what they want,” Jamie said.

  “Not by yourself,” Preacher said. He whistled, and Dog came bounding from deeper in the canyon. The big cur had been absent during the battle the night before, out wandering and hunting somewhere, and he had seemed pretty sheepish when he showed up in the canyon at dawn, as if he were ashamed that he had missed all the action.

  Broken Pine said, “I am the chief of the Crow. If there are decisions to be made for my people, I should be the one to make them.”

  “I will come as well,” Hawk declared. “There are four of them. We should be four.”

  “Come on, then,” Preacher told his son.

  “What about me?” Tyler asked. “I think I should go—”

  “Probably a better idea for you to stay here out of sight, Lieutenant,” Jamie interrupted him. “That way Davidson won’t find out just yet that you’ve changed sides. If he sees you now, he’ll go back and drum the idea that you’ve turned traitor into everybody’s head.”

  With obvious reluctance, Tyler nodded and said, “I suppose you’re right. But be careful out there. You can’t trust him.”

  “Reckon we figured that out a long time ago,” Preacher said as he moved his guns a little in their holsters, checking to see that they slid smoothly in the leather in case he needed them.

  No horses had been brought to the canyon when the Crow fled from the attack, so the four men started out onto the flats on foot. They met the army delegation about a third of the way across the open stretch, with everyone coming to a halt when about thirty feet separated the two groups.

  The rider in front holding the white flag—and looking extremely nervous about it—was Corporal Mackey. Behind him was Lieutenant Edgar Davidson, with a trooper flanking him on both sides. Davidson had left Sergeant O’Connor back with the other men, Jamie noted. Either that, or O’Connor hadn’t survived the fighting the night before.

  Mackey moved his horse aside so that Davidson could nudge his mount ahead and take position front and center. The strap of the lieutenant’s cap was tight under his chin. He glared out from under the cap’s black bill.

  “I’ll give you credit, Lieutenant,” Preacher said. “Most commanders would’a sent somebody in their place after stirrin’ up as much trouble as you have. If I was to pull these hoglegs, I don’t reckon anybody could stop me from blowin’ you outta the saddle.”

  “Perhaps not,” Davidson said, “but that would be a dishonorable thing to do. And despite the fact that for some ungodly reason you prefer the company of these squalid heathens, your reputation says that you’re an honorable man.” He sniffed. “Besides, I am the commander of this expedition. It’s my responsibility to deliver the terms of surrender.”

  “Oh?” Preacher said with a grin. “You’re surrenderin’?”

  “You know very well what I meant,” Davidson snapped. “Turn over to me the savages responsible for the deaths of my men, and I promise safe passage back to the village for the others, especially the women and children.”

 
; “It was a battle, Lieutenant,” Jamie pointed out. “A lot of men were shooting on both sides. We don’t have any way of knowing who did what. You can’t blame those deaths on anyone in particular.” Jamie paused, then added meaningfully, “Except maybe one man.”

  The rage that made Davidson’s face turn a mottled red showed that he understood perfectly well what Jamie meant. He controlled his anger with a visible effort and went on, “Nevertheless, those are my terms. I require, shall we say, a dozen of the savages to be put on trial for the murder of United States Army dragoons. I don’t particularly care which ones are turned over to me.”

  “Put on trial and then executed?” asked Preacher.

  “The proceedings will be fair and just. You have my word on that.” Davidson smirked. “But given the circumstances, there is little doubt of the outcome.”

  Broken Pine slowly shook his head and said, “This evil thing you speak of will never happen. The only way to stop more killing is for you and your men to leave and never come back.”

  Davidson’s chin jutted out arrogantly. He said, “You have my terms. I assure you, if you refuse them, I will continue to engage you and your people as the enemy until all of them have been wiped out.”

  “Including a bunch of innocent folks,” Jamie said.

  “As has been pointed out on more than one occasion. . . there are no innocents among hostiles.” Davidson lifted his reins. “I’ll give you one hour to comply with my terms. That’s all.”

  He turned his horse and rode back toward the trees. The two privates followed him, casting uneasy glances over their shoulders as they did so, as if they thought the truce might not hold. Corporal Mackey, still holding the white flag, hesitated.

  “It’s a shame Lieutenant Davidson’s the one giving the orders, Corporal,” Jamie said.

  “Maybe. But he’s the only officer we have, Mr. MacCallister, so we don’t have much choice except to follow his commands.”