by Rory Black
‘Here, drink this, boy.’ Lowe carefully pushed a mug of hot coffee into the bounty hunter’s hands. He glanced at Hawkins and shrugged. Both men watched as Iron Eyes lifted the mug to his scarred lips and swallowed the strong black brew in one go.
‘How long would it take for my head bones to heal?’ Iron Eyes asked.
‘I ain’t sure.’ Lowe leaned forward and filled his patient’s mug again. ‘I’ve never had to fix a broken skull before. Most folks with your kind of injury are dead before I gets to see them.’
Iron Eyes gave a wry smile. ‘A few days? A week?’
‘I don’t know,’ Doc Lowe admitted.
‘Why am I blind, Doc?’ the bounty hunter asked forcefully. ‘Nothing hit me in the face. Nothing hurt my eyes. I got my skull stoved in and that don’t figure. Why can’t I see?’
Sheriff Hawkins rested both hands on the bounty hunter’s shoulders. He felt the rage inside the seated man. It was like holding on to a coiled spring.
‘Easy, boy. Doc will help you. You gotta let him do his work, though.’
Iron Eyes downed the coffee, then tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. He still could not see anything. ‘You said my skull was shattered, Doc. Could that have done this to my eyes? Could it?’
Lowe patted the hands of the bounty hunter. ‘I think so. I ain’t never had me a patient suffer from this myself but I’ve read about such cases. We have to fix your skull and then maybe your sight will return.’
Iron Eyes pulled his hands away. He fumbled, then put the empty mug on the desk. ‘Do your worst, Doc. I don’t care none anymore.’
Lowe looked at Hawkins. ‘I reckon you could go down to the hardware store and borrow a cup of cement for me, Joe.’
The sheriff nodded. ‘No problem. I’ll go when I’ve drunk that cup of black poison you made.’
Iron Eyes did not understand what was going on but knew one thing for sure. He was now vulnerable. Without his sight he could not see his enemies. He rested an elbow on the desk.
He mustered up his courage and asked the question which was fermenting inside him.
‘Could this be permanent, Doc?’
Fearfully Lowe looked at the face of the lawman standing behind the deadly bounty hunter. Hawkins shook his head as if telling him to be careful of his reply.
‘I ... I don’t think so.’
Iron Eyes smiled. ‘Your voice got kinda shaky there, Doc.’
‘Let’s look at this carefully, boy,’ Lowe said drily. ‘You could see and then suddenly you went blind. Nothing hit you in the eyes so there ain’t no actual damage to them.’
Iron Eyes nodded. ‘Yeah.’
‘I reckon that it must be the fact that you had your head beat up.’ The doctor was thinking fast. ‘Must be nerve damage. Nothing more than that. If we can fix that skull of yours your sight has to return.’
Iron Eyes tilted his head. ‘Enough gabbing. Get started and fix this busted head of mine, Doc. I ain’t never liked the dark, to be honest.’
‘It ain’t that simple,’ Lowe explained. ‘I’ll have to be careful to make sure all the parts of that head of yours is put back right. One false move and I might kill you.’
‘Don’t fret. I don’t die that easy, Doc,’ the bounty hunter insisted.
Lowe cleared his throat again and rose to his feet. ‘Right! Yeah, I’ll start by sewing up the flesh and then I’ll have to do the tricky stuff.’
Hawkins walked over to where the doctor had gone. A large glass-windowed cabinet filled with medical instruments faced both men. The lawman watched as Lowe opened the door and started to fill a kidney bowl with all he thought he might need.
‘You still want me to go rustle up some cement?’
Lowe nodded. He continued to fill the enamel dish with all the things he imagined he might require.
The sheriff leaned close to the doctor’s right ear and whispered, ‘You sure you can fix his broken skull. Doc?’
Lowe looked straight into the face of the lawman. ‘I have to fix it, Joe. I have to get it right.’
Sheriff Hawkins took a deep breath. ‘Right. I’ll head on off to Smith’s hardware store and borrow a cup of cement. Damned if I’ll be able to make old man Smith believe why I only want a cup of the damn stuff, though.’ Suddenly a sound came from out in the street. It was the raised voice of a well-oiled man shouting straight at Doc Lowe’s office windows.
‘I knows you’re in there, Iron Eyes,’ the angry voice bellowed out. ‘Come on out, you back-shooting bastard! I’m gonna teach you it don’t pay to kill folks for money. It don’t pay to kill my kinfolk.’
Hawkins and Lowe both turned away from the cabinet. To their surprise the bounty hunter was standing and facing in the direction of the shouting man.
‘I know that loudmouth,’ Iron Eyes growled.
The sheriff rushed across the office to his side. ‘Sit down, boy. Doc’s gotta fix you up.’
‘That’s Kansas Drew McGinty,’ Iron Eyes mumbled. ‘I’d know his pathetic whine anywhere.’
‘You coming out, Iron Eyes?’ McGinty yelled out again. ‘C’mon out. I’ve had me some whiskey and some mighty fine women and I’m ready to kill.’
‘I’ll go run him off.’ Hawkins said to the bounty hunter. ‘You stay here.’
Iron Eyes grabbed the sheriff’s arm and pulled him back. His grip was like a vice. Hawkins looked up into the face of the bounty hunter and felt his heart quicken its pace. He had never before seen a look like the one carved into the face of Iron Eyes. Even with unseeing eyes the tall man looked exactly the same as he had done when Hawkins had first encountered him outside the Golden Bell hours earlier.
‘This is my call, Sheriff.’
‘Can you see?’ the sheriff wondered aloud. ‘Has your sight come back?’
‘Nope. I can’t see nothing at all.’ Iron Eyes released his grip and walked towards the shouting voice. His bony hands located the door and its handle and he opened it wide. He took one step, then lowered his head and continued to absorb the screaming profanities which rained at him. The toe of his left mule-eared boot could feel the edge of the boardwalk just beyond the office door boundary.
Lowe and the sheriff looked at one another. Neither could believe the sight of the defiant tall figure standing in the partly open doorway.
‘You ready to die, Kansas Drew?’ Iron Eyes growled, flexing his bony fingers at his side. ‘Ready to meet that brother of yours?’
McGinty shot out a long sturdy arm and pointed at the man with the light at his back. ‘Ain’t you scared, Iron Eyes? You oughta be mighty scared.’
‘Of what?’ came the defiant reply.
‘Now I’m gonna finish you.’ Kansas Drew went for his Remington. The sound of the large hand slapping the leather of the holster as the .44 was drawn from its holster filled the quiet street. The bounty hunter raised his arms, pulled both his guns out of his belt in one swift action and blasted out into the dimness. A scream spewed from the bearded man.
McGinty spun on his heels and then, like a felled tree, landed hard on the sandy street. A cloud of dust rose all around his burly figure but Iron Eyes did not see it.
Hawkins went to stand beside Iron Eyes where he stood with the smoking guns in his hands, and gasped at the sight of the blinded man’s lethal handiwork.
‘You killed him.’
‘Good.’
‘Why’d he come looking for you?’
‘He was wanted,’ Iron Eyes said. He pushed his guns back into their place in his pants belt. He turned and carefully retraced his steps back towards the desk.
‘But why not just ride out? Why face a bounty hunter?’ Hawkins followed the tall man back into the office and closed the door. He saw the expression on Lowe’s face. It mirrored his own.
Iron Eyes found the chair and carefully sat down again.
‘I killed his brother a year or so back. Reckon he thought he’d get even.’
Doc Lowe waved his left hand in front of the bullet-colored eyes again. The
y showed no reaction.
‘You’re still blind!’
‘I know,’ Iron Eyes agreed.
‘Then how did you manage to hit that McGinty critter with them guns of yours?’ Hawkins pressed. ‘That hombre’s lying out there with two bullets in the middle of his chest. How’d you do that?’
‘I could smell him.’ The bounty hunter sighed. ‘Them McGintys’ got a real stink about them. I just aimed where the smell was ripest.’
‘You might have gotten yourself killed there, boy,’ the sheriff said. ‘A blind man taking on a ruthless outlaw is darn dangerous.’
‘I told you, I don’t die easy,’ Iron Eyes said and sighed.
Joe Hawkins straightened up.
‘I’ll go get that cement, Doc.’
Chapter Six
The ancient mountains could not tell of the horrific degradation the native people living within its shadows had been subjected to over the previous months. The trees were still green and the river continued to flow along the floor of the valley but the Indians were no longer the same. Their spirits and souls had been destroyed by what they had thought were gods. Having no knowledge or experience of the outside world or its evil ways they had been putty in the hands of Will Hayes and his cohorts. How were they to know anything of what so many of their fellow Indians had been subjected to over the years since their once peaceful land had been discovered? Whether it had been the golden ore which they themselves thought valueless or just the land itself, the result had been the same throughout the vast continent.
How many tribes had simply vanished when the white men had arrived? Those who had not simply disappeared into the pages of history had been moved from one place to another, from one hell to an even worse one. The Eastern seaboard had once flourished with tribes who farmed crops. Now only their tribal names remained. So many states with names which had once been the proud descriptions of living breathing people were all there was left.
So many had gone. Their only crime was to be living on land others had wanted more. Greed had shown no mercy to the innocent.
The valley now fell silent. The singing had ceased. There was no joy left in the hearts of the broken people who had been deceived into thinking their gods had returned. In six months nearly a third of them had died. Most had fallen victim to the guns Hayes and his followers had brought with them. Some had perished from unseen illnesses against which they had no immunity that the prospectors had carried into the valley. A few had just lost all hope and destroyed themselves.
The eyes of the tribal elder Hakatan burned across the clearing at the large wigwam where the miners had secreted themselves. He had already lost everything he cherished and he wondered when his time would come to join his ancestors. His blood boiled when he saw the miners pick females to abuse each night. Their whips and guns had silenced his and all his remaining braves’ attempts to fight back.
Hakatan sat cross-legged inside his small hut nursing his wounds. His eyes never left the large structure occupied by the false gods. At first the females screamed out when the miners had dragged them into their lair. Then they simply accepted their fate, fearing that more of the dwindling number of braves might be either tortured or killed.
Hakatan vainly tried to see an end to their torment.
Unknown to the remaining natives, being regarded as gods had begun to weigh heavily on the shoulders of Will Hayes and his men. There was only so much depravity a man could enjoy before even that became a burden. Now some of them began to wonder how they would ever leave this once idyllic place with the spoils of their ruthless handiwork.
They had taken shelter in the large wigwam as soon as they had triumphantly entered the small village. It had not taken long before they had discovered that the floor of the round building was littered with thousands of precious golden artefacts laid down over untold generations. The miners had bagged them all. Golden nuggets had also been piled up until they reached the height of five feet from the earthen floor.
Each day Hayes had commanded the natives to bring them more and more nuggets as well as food. Each day the Indians had obeyed. Month after month the six men had repeated the actions of the previous one, until they could barely believe how much treasure they had accumulated.
Then it had dawned on them.
How were they going to turn their spoils into hard cash? Even with their horses and mules heavily laden it would take a dozen or more trips back to civilization. Hayes had no magic trick to solve that problem and they all knew it.
The flames of the huge bonfire the natives had lit illuminated the village clearing. Its dancing light allowed the miners to see the hollow hateful eyes of their slaves watching them. So many eyes silently watched them.
It was now the one hundred and eighty third night since they had made the natives believe that a man could fly. It was Sly Rowe who spoke first. His words seemed to say what all the others were thinking.
‘How we gonna get all this gold out of the valley, boys?’
Hayes removed his mask and placed it down beside him. He nodded as the words milled inside his mind. ‘To get all this stuff out of here we’ll have to make us ten or more trips in and out of the valley.’
‘Yeah, we just ain’t got enough pack animals,’ Bean agreed.
The others looked on.
‘You mean leave and then come back?’ Tobey did not seem to favor the notion. ‘Once I get out of this valley I ain’t ever coming back.’
‘That goes for me as well,’ Brown said.
Henson stood and walked around inside of the building. He looked at the mountain of ore and precious golden goods. He paused at the sight of how much they had and knew that each day it increased. His eyes darted to where Hayes sat.
‘We could pick a couple of us to take some of this on to Providence whilst the rest of us stays here to keep these Indians under control.’
‘Good idea, Clint.’ Hayes nodded.
‘Hold on a minute,’ Bean interrupted. ‘What’s to stop the ones that goes off to Providence just stealing our share? They might not come back. Without the horses and mules, we’d be stranded in this valley.’
Will Hayes smiled and looked at Bean. ‘You don’t trust you fellow gold-diggers, Rance? Is that what you’d do? Just keep the gold and forget about the rest of us?’
‘Hell! One trip would make them rich.’ Bean nodded hard as he waved a finger at the oldest of their group. ‘Why would anyone in their right mind return to this valley? It stinks and boils a man’s flesh. I figure whoever we chose to leave would never come back here.’
Hayes got to his feet. He moved close to the entrance of the large wigwam and stared out at the other smaller huts dotted beyond the well-fed fire. ‘That Indian chief troubles me, boys. I have me a feeling he’s planning something.’
Sly Rowe walked to stand beside Hayes. ‘Yeah, he’s a real troublemaker. We done whipped the skin off his back more times than I can recall and he still don’t quit his antics.’
Henson rubbed his hands together. ‘Maybe we could all go and take as much gold as we can up to Providence, boys. Cash it up and share it out. Then whichever of us wants to come back here for more can do so.’
‘That might work,’ Hayes agreed.
‘I don’t cotton the chances of any of us ever getting back into this camp once we’ve left,’ Brown said. ‘We’ve tricked them and controlled them for months now but once we leave they’ll surely not be dumb enough to let us just ride back in.’
Tobey stretched his arms until they clicked and walked to stand beside Hayes and Rowe. ‘I’m gonna go down there and get me a female for the night.’
Hayes shook his head. He could still see Hakatan watching them with burning eyes.
‘Reckon you better not go alone, Bob,’ the older man warned.
‘Why not?’ Tobey asked.
‘I got me a gut feeling about that old Indian,’ Hayes replied. He rested a hand on the crude wall of the hut. ‘He’s planning something.’
Tobey plucked one of their Winchesters up off the ground and cranked its mechanism until the rifle was cocked for action. ‘I ain’t feared of them. Let any of those fools try anything and I’ll put a hole through him!’
Hayes looked at Tobey. ‘Just be careful, Bob. If any of us gets hurt or killed them Indians will know for sure that we ain’t the gods they think we are.’
Tobey smiled. ‘I figure they already know we ain’t real gods, Will.’
‘Why confirm it?’ Hayes sat down and clapped his hands together. ‘The longer we can keep them thinking what we want them to think the safer we’ll all be.’
Henson walked to Tobey and drew his Colt from his concealed holster. ‘I’ll come watch your back, Bob. I could do with a little girl myself.’
As the two miners left the wigwam on their hunt for a pair of females Hayes looked around at the others. ‘I sure am glad my sap don’t rise anymore.’
Pete Brown looked at the man who had masterminded their total dominance of an entire tribe. ‘What’s your plan, Will? We staying or are we heading on out? I’ll do whatever you reckon is our best bet.’
‘I reckon we’ll all leave here in the next couple of days with as much of this treasure as our animals can carry. We’ll head on up to Providence and get it exchanged for hard cash.’
‘You figuring on coming back?’ Brown pressed.
‘Yep. Only a fool would turn his back on this much loot.’ Hayes sighed. ‘Once the cash is divided up between us and we get it banked I’m gonna get a score of sturdy mules and come back here with whoever wants to join me. I reckon we ought to be able to get most of this gold out then.’
The men around Hayes did not argue.
They had confidence that their leader had worked everything out and that whatever he chose to do would be the correct course for them to take. His leadership had so far never failed them. Yet none of them, not even Hayes himself, could have known that the magician’s earlier concern about the brooding Indian chief was justified.
Hakatan was indeed planning something. Something which went against everything in his nature. For he was a man who had been pushed beyond breaking point. Even though the leader of the small tribe had been taught that mere mortals could never better supernatural beings, he was willing to try.
