by Rory Black
The remaining Indians were herded up like animals and brought toward the flames. Only a few men remained alive, and even they were wounded. The majority of the surviving natives were female. Many were old. A handful were of an age which the miners had already mercilessly exploited. The rest were terrified children.
Hayes felt a sense of power overwhelming him. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Now he did not need any more magical trickery. He led the last of the village’s braves to the water’s edge and then lined them up with their backs to his smoking Winchester.
‘This’ll teach them, boys.’ Hayes yelled out as he cocked the weapon his hands. ‘This’ll teach them it no pay to mess with the gods.’
Still laughing Hayes fired at each of them in turn and watched as they all fell into the river. The light of the large bonfire illuminated their limp bodies as they were swept away in the swift current of the river.
Will Hayes turned to face the last of the cowering Indians and his men.
‘Do what you will with them, boys,’ he yelled out triumphantly to the others as a sickening smile filled his features. ‘Now we ain’t got nothing to fear. Nothing at all.’
The miners did not require telling more than once. They moved like the two-legged vermin they were and dragged females up from the ground where they had been forced to kneel. The various ages of their victims meant nothing to them. The women would do what they were forced to do or face the consequences. Hayes laughed as he watched his men dragging them towards the largest of the huts.
What little clothing the females wore was torn from them even before they reached the entrance of the large gold-filled wigwam. Most of the females had already been whipped into submission long before this futile revolt. Their bodies bore the scars of previous abuse.
Then one of the youngest of the girls who had not been chosen jumped to her feet and raced across the open ground at the man who had orchestrated the destruction of her tribe. She was screaming as she tried to seek revenge for her loved ones.
It did not matter to Hayes that she was barely half his height. It did not matter that she was probably no more than eight years of age.
Will Hayes turned his rifle on her and then fired. The bullet lifted her off her feet. She crashed into the ground like a little rag doll.
He grabbed hold of her ankle, hauled her off the muddy soil and then tossed her into the raging torrent.
As he marched back to where his men had already started to service their victims he grabbed a child little bigger or older than the one he had just shot and thrown into the river. He dragged her screaming into the entrance of the hut.
The females and children who remained on their knees bathed in the light of the massive fire began to wail as one.
It was like a crescendo of ghosts.
Chapter Sixteen
The sun began to break across the vast range. Its light spread like wildfire until everything around the two men seemed to be ablaze. The sheriff had dismounted as soon as they reached the river whilst Iron Eyes sat astride his powerful stallion and struck a match across his saddle horn. The bounty hunter cupped its flame in his hands, touched the tip of his cigar and inhaled the strong acrid smoke deeply.
‘Well?’ Iron Eyes asked through a cloud of smoke. ‘Is it them?’
Hawkins had dragged both bodies out of the water and turned them over. He compared the images on the wanted posters to the faces of the outlaws and then straightened up.
‘Yep. It’s them OK.’ Sheriff Hawkins returned the posters to the outheld left hand of the thin horseman as he again looked down on the corpses of the dead outlaws which were stranded on the bank of the river. Both bodies showed proof that they had been mauled by wild animals since they had arrived at the crook in the river. ‘How’d you manage to find them without being able to see, Iron Eyes?’
‘Can’t you smell them, Sheriff?’
‘Nope,’ Hawkins admitted.
‘How’d they die?’ Iron Eyes asked.
The light of the morning sun showed the lawman the multiple bullet holes in both outlaws’ torsos. The blood had been washed away but not the evidence of the burnt shirt fronts. A black mark surrounded each of the bullet holes. Hawkins rubbed his neck and exhaled loudly. ‘They’re riddled with bullets, boy. Whoever shot them sure made sure they was dead. I never seen such a lot of holes in two men’s chests.’
‘I hate folks who waste lead,’ Iron Eyes sighed. ‘One or two bullets ought to be enough to kill anyone. Why waste so much? It just don’t make no sense.’
‘I don’t get it either.’ Hawkins held on to his reins and looked across the river up into the forested valley ahead of them. It seemed an eerie place even bathed in sunlight.
‘What don’t you get?’
The sheriff bit his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘Why did the critters who killed ’em just leave them here and not take them down into San Remo to collect the reward money? Why leave ’em here?’
‘They didn’t kill them here, Joe,’ Iron Eyes said bluntly.
‘What?’ Sheriff Hawkins looked up at the fearsome figure who still sucked on the black cigar. ‘What you mean, they weren’t killed here? If not here, where was they killed?’
‘They were just washed down here from somewhere upriver,’ the bounty hunter asserted confidently. ‘I figure that whoever killed them didn’t know they were wanted. Either that or they didn’t care or need the reward.’
Hawkins stepped closer to the horseman with smoke trailing from his lips.
‘How’d you know they was killed upriver?’
‘See their horses anywhere?’ Iron Eyes asked, waving his free hand around expressively.
‘They could have run off or bin stolen by the killers,’ the lawman argued.
‘Maybe,’ the thin man said. ‘I just don’t think so.’
The sheriff gave the valley another long look. ‘Upriver means right in the heart of that forest. Damned if I’d wanna head on up into that place if there was another trail I could take. Nobody ever goes thataway.’
‘I would.’
‘But you ain’t normal, boy,’ Hawkins said.
Iron Eyes felt his eyes burning again. He blinked and looked down at the figure standing beside the neck of his mount. ‘Damn it all. I can see again.’
Hawkins’s expression changed. ‘You can? Can you see clearly?’
‘Yep,’ the bounty hunter answered before adding: ‘Hell, I forgot just how ugly you was, old-timer.’
Hawkins shook his head. ‘Enough joking, handsome. We gonna put these bodies on the backs of our nags and take them back to town?’
‘I don’t reckon so,’ Iron Eyes replied as he lifted himself off his saddle and squinted out across the river to the other bank.
‘Why not?’
‘That.’ Iron Eyes pulled the cigar from his teeth and pointed with it at something across the river. Something which made him sit back down, tap his spurs against the flanks of his stallion and head into the fast-moving river. ‘C’mon!’
‘What you seen, boy?’ Hawkins grabbed his saddle horn and stepped into his stirrup. He hauled himself on top of his horse and urged it to follow the bounty hunter. Spray plumed up to either side of him as the lawman tried to catch up with the strange bounty hunter.
Iron Eyes remained silent until his horse reached the opposite bank of the river. He allowed the stallion to walk up on to the dry ground and then slowly dismounted. He held on to his reins and stared down into the reeds. His expression suddenly altered. All humor was drained from him.
‘Hell! That ain’t the sort of thing I wanted to see when my eyes healed up,’ Iron Eyes drawled to himself.
‘What you found?’ Hawkins asked when his saddle horse had scrambled up on to the riverbank next to the palomino. The puzzled lawman dismounted. ‘Well? What is it?’
‘Something bad. Real bad.’ Iron Eyes handed his reins to the sheriff, then stepped into the water and stooped down. He lifted a small girl out of the river and t
urned to face his companion.
‘Hell. That’s a little girl,’ the sheriff gasped. ‘A little Indian girl by the looks of it.’
Cradling the child Iron Eyes walked away from the water until he came to a dry patch of grass. He bent down, placed the chilled girl on to the grass and knelt down beside her. He removed his long coat, placed it over her, then rested a finger against her neck.
‘Is she alive, Iron Eyes?’
The bounty hunter rose up to his full height. He removed the cigar from his lips and then threw it away angrily.
‘Nope.’
The visibly upset lawman bent over the small body and peeled the coat back. His eyes spotted the bullet hole and he turned his head to tell Iron Eyes. But the bounty hunter had already thrown himself on to the back of the palomino.
‘She was shot, boy,’ Hawkins said.
‘I know.’ Iron Eyes snarled, spurred his horse and thundered up into the valley. ‘You coming?’
Hawkins replaced the coat over the little girl and hastily mounted. He slapped his reins across the rear of his horse and raced after the bounty hunter along the river’s edge.
‘Where you going, boy?’ the sheriff called out as he drew level with Iron Eyes.
Gripping his reins in both hands, Iron Eyes glanced at the sheriff and yelled out, ‘I’m going to kill me the dirty varmints who done that to that little ’un, old-timer. OK?’
‘OK!’ Hawkins called back.
Chapter Seventeen
It had been an unrelenting ride which had taken them until long after the sun had set once more. They had passed a dozen or more totem poles before darkness had overwhelmed the valley, and as many again beneath the light of the bright moon. The coming of night had not slowed their determined pace. They had forged on along the muddy trail beside the edge of the river in resolute pursuit of the killer of the small child.
For hours the sheriff and the bounty hunter had followed the tracks left by the outlaws’ horses, until Iron Eyes spotted something and drew rein. There was a strange eerie light which pervaded the forest, yet it was enough for the seasoned hunter to see what he had been looking for. The large palomino stallion stopped, then lowered its head.
It was lathered up and exhausted but, like its determined master, it stubbornly refused to quit.
‘Hold these.’ Iron Eyes threw his reins to Hawkins, swung his leg over the palomino’s neck and slid to the ground. His light frame made no sound as he landed in the soft mud.
‘What you seen there, boy?’ the sheriff asked. He steadied his own horse whilst holding on to his companion’s reins.
The thin figure dropped to one knee and placed the palm of his hand on the wet mud. He then studied the surrounding area until he got the whole picture of the events that had occurred at this very spot.
‘Answer me, Iron Eyes. What’s them tracks telling you?’ Hawkins begged the kneeling man for answers.
The bounty hunter stood up and looked all around him. There was a hint of confusion in his twisted features. Then he closed his eyes and listened to the valley and forest as if it were speaking to him. He rested a hand on the withers of his stallion and looked up at the sheriff.
‘This is where Slater and Barker were killed.’ Iron Eyes said with assurance. ‘This is where they died and were rolled into the river. I’m certain of that much, but there’s something else that don’t figure. It don’t figure at all.’
‘How many of them were there that done for them outlaws?’
‘Five to start with and then a sixth.’ Iron Eyes said confidently.
‘Then what’s got you so confused?’ Hawkins leaned over from his high perch. ‘I never seen you look so bewildered.’
Iron Eyes looked upward at the low-hanging mist. ‘All the signs say that the sixth hombre flew in like a bird.’ Hawkins straightened up. His expression said more than any words which might leave his lips would dare to. ‘Come again?’
Iron Eyes pointed up at the sky. ‘The last man to set about killing them outlaws flew in from over yonder. At first I thought he must have bin up in a tree and just dropped down on them but that ain’t how it happened. He flew in.’
‘Flew in?’
‘Yep.’ The bounty hunter led his horse to the edge of the river where tall clusters of reeds rose from the water. He allowed the stallion to drink as his brain fought to understand the clues which surrounded them. Clues which seemed incredible even to him. After a few minutes of silence, Iron Eyes looked at the sheriff and continued his theorizing. ‘By my reckoning, he flew across the river. From over there to right about here and then he dropped out of the sky.’
Hawkins eyebrows rose. ‘Is that skull of yours playing you up again, boy?’
‘Nope.’ Iron Eyes opened one of the satchels of his saddle-bags and drew out a bottle. He pulled its cork and then took a long welcome swallow of the whiskey. He offered the bottle to Hawkins who accepted. The sheriff downed a mouthful, then handed the bottle back to his companion. ‘I ain’t loco, Joe. I’m telling you what the signs say happened.’
‘A man can’t fly, son.’
A wry grin crossed the face of Iron Eyes. ‘He can if he’s rigged up some wires.’
‘What?’
The bony fingers of the bounty hunter pointed at the moonlit sky. ‘Open them eyes of yours, old-timer. Look hard and you’ll see them. Wires.’
Hawkins looked up and was about to say something when he caught sight of the wire, which was right above them. The light of the moon danced along its entire length. ‘Damn it all. There’s a couple of wires up there. Who’d wanna rig up something like that and why? It don’t make sense.’
‘There’s another one going over there.’ Iron Eyes pointed a finger and watched as the sheriff nodded in bemused agreement. ‘See it?’
‘Yeah,’ Hawkins said. ‘What I don’t see is a reason for a man to fly, boy.’
Iron Eyes squinted hard at the ground and then scooped up a small bright object. He handed it to his friend. ‘Is this what I think it is, Joe?’
Hawkins rubbed the mud from the gold nugget and gasped. ‘It sure is. Gold.’
Iron Eyes thought about the body of the little girl they had discovered earlier that day. The body that he had left wrapped in his long frock-coat. ‘Listen up. We know there must be Injuns in this forest, Sheriff. That little gal is proof of that. We also know that there must be mighty ruthless white folks in here as well. Now we know that there’s gold here. It all fits. I figure we’re hunting a bunch of prospectors. Gold prospectors.’
‘And Injuns in this forest might not like folks panning for their gold,’ Hawkins said thoughtfully.
‘Maybe the wires and a man flying is meant to hoodwink them.’
‘Yeah,’ Hawkins agreed. ‘But whatever the truth is, all I can think about is that poor little gal we found back there and the stinking bastard who killed her.’
‘Not only killed her but threw her body into the river like she was trash,’ Iron Eyes growled like a mountain cat. ‘Yeah. Just like they done with Barker and Slater. I can understand someone doing that to outlaws but not a helpless kid.’
‘We’ll make ’em pay, boy.’ Hawkins nodded his determination.
‘Pay with their worthless hides,’ Iron Eyes added, he took another swig from his bottle, then pushed it back into his saddle-bag.
The sheriff stared at the gruesome-looking bounty hunter. He had never seen the man so visibly upset or angry before. Even when faced with the fearsome Kansas Drew McGinty Iron Eyes had remained totally detached. There had been no hint either of fear or remorse when he had so expertly killed the outlaw.
Now Iron Eyes was engulfed by fury. A fury which equaled his own resolve.
But was the pitifully ill-looking man fit enough to make his words reality? The question troubled the lawman.
‘How’s them eyes of yours?’ the sheriff asked. ‘They still holding up? Can you still see good?’
‘Good enough,’ came the low, growling response. ‘I don�
�t need eyes to kill me vermin though, Sheriff. You already know I only needs my guns for that.’
‘As long as you feels up to carrying on.’ Again Iron Eyes studied the ground around them, then he looked towards the river. He moved around both horses like a panther stalking its prey, his eyes burning at the signs on the muddy surface leading to the water. Then he raised a hand to alert the lawman of something he had noticed. Hawkins gripped his holstered gun and watched as Iron Eyes waded out into the river until its water lapped over the top of his high boots.
Even in the water the hunter did not make any sound. He moved silently in a half-circle around the bed of reeds until he saw the thing his senses had alerted him to. He signaled with his left hand at the sheriff. Hawkins dismounted.
‘Come here, Joe,’ Iron Eyes said firmly as he waded into a thicket of tall reeds and stooped out of sight. Hawkins rushed out into the river until he was next to his companion. Then to his surprise he saw the thin man hauling something out of the reed bed. He helped Iron Eyes steady himself against the current and followed him back to the riverbank.
‘Is that another body?’ Hawkins asked as his eyes tried to see what the younger man had discovered.
‘Another Injun.’ Iron Eyes said through gritted teeth. He carried Hakatan’s cold body back to the shore.
Joe Hawkins watched as Iron Eyes placed the limp Indian tribal elder on the ground and knelt down beside him.
‘Is he dead like the others, boy?’
Iron Eyes looked up. ‘Nope. He ain’t dead at all. He’s got himself a couple of rifle bullets in him but his heart is beating real powerful.’
‘He might still be alive now, but he ain’t gonna last long if we don’t get him warmed up.’ Hawkins hurried to his horse and dragged his bedroll from behind the saddle cantle. He unfolded it, tossed it over Hakatan, then knelt down next to the bounty hunter. ‘We need us a fire.’
Iron Eyes did not respond. He just kept rubbing the man’s hands feverishly in an attempt to get the Indian’s blood flowing round him again.
