When All Hell Broke Loose

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  “Indians?” Sutton asked with a worried frown.

  “That’s right. They were scouting us out, trying to decide just how big a force we have and what they should do about it.”

  “Probably all that bellerin’ the boys were doin’ earlier in the evenin’ attracted ’em,” Preacher said. “Although they would’ve seen the fire anyway.”

  “Do you think they’re going to attack us?” asked Sutton.

  “They were considering it last night, more than likely,” Jamie said. “I was ready to give the alarm if they came much closer. But they backed off and then went away.”

  “So they’re not going to attack us?”

  “They decided not to, but only for last night.” Jamie shrugged. “Hard to say what they’ll decide today or tonight, or two or three nights from now.”

  “Well, that’s certainly nerve-racking,” said Curry.

  “Travelin’ in Injun country usually is, Lieutenant,” Preacher said.

  They were still on the plains, curving gradually each day closer to the mountains that were visible as a bluish-gray line on the western horizon. Eventually, that route would take them into the Rockies, deep into the territory where the Blackfeet under Stone Bear roamed.

  Before they ever got there, however, they had to pass through the region where some of the other tribes were common. Although the Cheyenne, Kiowa, Pawnee, and Sioux weren’t as uniformly hostile to whites as the Blackfeet were, they were fully capable of launching an attack on the group if the mood struck them.

  “Might be a good idea if a couple of scouts went on ahead a ways, just to look for signs of trouble,” Preacher went on. “I nominate myself as one of ’em.”

  “And I’ll be the other,” Jamie said.

  Without hesitation, Colonel Sutton said, “I’d rather you didn’t do that, Jamie. It seems to me that one of you should stay here with the main body of the expedition.”

  Preacher grinned. “So we don’t both get killed at the same time? I reckon the colonel’s got a point there, Jamie.”

  “I’ll go,” Roscoe Lomax said as he urged his horse up alongside those of the other four men. “Sorry. I was back there eavesdroppin’, I guess you’d say. But I’ve done some scoutin’ before, down yonder on the Santa Fe Trail, and I’ve got a good eye for trouble, if I do say so myself.”

  Jamie looked at Preacher and asked, “What do you think?”

  The mountain man shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with Lomax goin’ along.”

  “It’s settled, then,” Sutton said. “Lieutenant, go advise Baron von Kuhner there’s a possibility of encountering hostiles and ask him to order his men to be especially watchful. I want that order passed along to our men, as well.”

  Curry said, “Yes, sir,” and turned his horse to ride back along the column.

  “If you run into anything, let us know as quick as you can,” Jamie said to Preacher and Lomax. “I’m especially worried about those bluffs up there.” He nodded toward a pair of low bluffs that flanked their route on either side, a couple of miles north of their current position. The gap between the bluffs was at least half a mile wide, so it wasn’t really a potential trap they were riding into . . . but the bluffs would make it easier for war parties to hide and launch a two-sided flank attack against them.

  “I saw ’em myself and was thinkin’ the same thing you are,” Preacher told Jamie. “Come on, Lomax. Let’s see if we can scare up some trouble.”

  They urged their horses ahead of the rest of the group. Dog came along, too, of course, bounding out ahead. The ground had dried enough following the storm’s passing that the mud didn’t slow them down much. Soon they were able to leave Jamie and the others at least half a mile behind.

  Lomax wasn’t the sort to ride in silence. Since it was the first time he and Preacher had been alone together for more than a few seconds he said, “I’ve heard a heap of stories about you, Preacher. Back in my drinkin’ and brawlin’ days, I always boasted that I was a real ring-tailed roarer. I reckon you’re the genuine article, though.”

  “Them drinkin’ and brawlin’ days are behind you, are they?” asked Preacher, deliberately not addressing the implication to his legendary status.

  “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell MacCallister. He’s a pretty stubborn hombre when it comes to believin’, though.”

  “Jamie’s the sort of fella who’s got to see things with his own eyes before he believes anything.” Preacher looked over at Lomax as they entered the gap between the bluffs. “I’m the same way myself.”

  “Ain’t I stayed out of trouble?” Lomax demanded, frowning. His voice had a defensive, injured tone to it.

  “For a while. Keep it up.”

  Lomax sighed and shook his head. “What folks like you and MacCallister forget is that the rest of us are just human, with plenty o’ human failin’s. We ain’t all like you.”

  “I never said I wasn’t human. Shoot, even as old as I am . . . and I’m ten years older ’n Jamie, mind you . . . I get a mite too reckless sometimes. And I’ve sure been known to lose my temper. But I’ve got in the habit of tryin’ to keep a tight rein on it.” Preacher nodded slowly. “You’ll get there, Lomax. At least, I have a hunch you will.”

  “Them words mean a lot to me, Preacher, especially comin’ from somebody like—” Lomax stopped short, and his eyes narrowed as he turned his head to gaze toward the bluff to the east. “Thought I caught a glimpse of somethin’ movin’ up there,” he said quietly.

  Preacher was gazing toward the western bluff. “And I saw the same thing over yonder. Not much, just a little flicker of somethin’.”

  “Injuns?”

  “Could be.” Preacher nodded toward Dog. The big cur had slowed his pace. Instead of ranging well ahead of the two riders, he walked along deliberately, his shaggy head swinging from side to side.

  The mountain man went on. “He smells somethin’ that’s got him wary. And it’s on both sides of us.”

  “Them bluffs are hundreds of yards away. Can he really smell redskins that far off?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him,” Preacher said. “I’ve never gone wrong trustin’ his instincts, neither. In fact—” He tightened his grip on Horse’s reins and slowed the big stallion.

  Beside him, Lomax reined in, too.

  “Dog, stay,” Preacher called quietly to the cur.

  Dog sat, but he kept turning his head back and forth to look at the bluffs. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and a low growl came from deep in his throat.

  After a moment, Preacher let out a soft whistle of surprise. “Would you look at that?”

  “I’m lookin’,” Lomax said, “but I ain’t likin’ what I’m seein’.”

  Neither did Preacher. His keen eyes had no trouble seeing the dozens of mounted figures that pushed forward until they and their ponies were poised at the edge of the bluff to the west. He saw the feathered headdresses several of the men sported, and each of the other men had a feather or two in his hair. Some held rifles with the butts resting on their thighs and the barrels pointing almost straight up in the air. Others were armed with lances or bows and arrows.

  A glance in the other direction told Preacher that a force of roughly equal size had just appeared on the rim of the eastern bluff.

  “Well, hell,” breathed Lomax. “That don’t look good. How many do you reckon there are, Preacher?”

  “Fifty or sixty that we can see. Might be more than that farther back.”

  “So we’ve got ’em outnumbered by a little. Maybe. Or maybe we don’t.”

  Preacher nodded. “Yeah. That’s about the size of it.”

  “Why do you think they showed themselves to us like that? They could’ve stayed back out of sight until they were ready to jump us.”

  “They might be intendin’ on jumpin’ us. Could be they just want us to know they’re there. Maybe they think we’ll be scared enough to turn back.”

  “But we won’t, will we?”

&nb
sp; “Nope,” Preacher said. “This is the shortest way to where we’re goin’, so I reckon we’ll keep on.”

  “Maybe they’re just showin’ off,” Lomax said. “But we’d better head back and tell MacCallister and the colonel anyway.”

  “You do that. I’ll wait for you right here.”

  “You’re gonna stay out here in front by yourself?” Lomax frowned. “I ain’t sure that’s a good idea, Preacher. Won’t they be more likely to attack?”

  The mountain man grunted. “They ain’t more scared of the two of us than they are of just me,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, I reckon what I said don’t make much sense, does it?” Lomax lifted his reins. “All right. I’ll alert the others. I don’t know what MacCallister and the colonel will decide to do.”

  “I do. They’ll keep coming, Injuns or no Injuns.”

  “You’re probably right.” Lomax wheeled his horse and galloped back toward the rest of the group.

  Preacher sat his saddle calmly. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in a situation such as this. Most times, you couldn’t predict what was going to happen, especially where Indians were concerned. You just had to wait and see which way they were going to jump.

  He looked behind him. The rest of the riders were in sight, entering the wide gap between the bluffs. He saw Lomax riding toward them. Jamie almost certainly had already spotted the Indians, so Lomax wouldn’t be telling him anything he didn’t already know.

  The warriors on the bluffs hadn’t budged. They were just sitting there and waiting.

  Preacher leaned over and spat. A grin creased his leathery face. Dog growled again.

  “Take it easy, old-timer. It won’t be long now. I look at those Injuns and my gut tells me that all hell’s about to break loose.”

  Chapter 25

  “Who’s that coming this way?” asked Colonel Sutton. He had just signaled for the column to halt when he and Jamie spotted the man galloping toward them.

  “That’s Lomax,” Jamie replied, having no trouble identifying the bullwhacker even at that distance.

  “Do you think something’s happened to Preacher?”

  “It’s more likely Preacher sent him back with a message. And I can make a pretty good guess what it is.” Jamie peered at the bluff to the east, then slowly swung his gaze back to the west. The column was far enough back that he couldn’t make out any details yet, but he was sure that a large number of warriors mounted on swift, sturdy ponies waited atop those bluffs.

  A few minutes later, Lomax pounded up to them and reined in. “Injuns on both sides of us, MacCallister,” he reported. “Preacher says there’s fifty or sixty of the red devils.”

  “Then we have them outnumbered,” said Sutton.

  Jamie said, “If you can see fifty or sixty Indians, there’s liable to be that many more you can’t see, somewhere close by.”

  “Yeah, Preacher said the same thing,” Lomax agreed. “But he said he figured you’d want to come on ahead, anyway.”

  Jamie nodded. “Not much else we can do, except maybe circle a lot of miles out of the way. That would take time we can’t afford, and we might just run into the same problem no matter which way we go. Better to just push on, and if there’s going to be trouble, we’ll get it out of the way now.”

  “Is there any possibility those hostiles aren’t waiting to ambush us?” Sutton wanted to know.

  “It’s possible. They may just be trying to impress us with a show of force, so that we’ll be more likely to keep moving and not linger in their territory.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Sutton gave him a resigned nod, then turned and called to Curry, “We’re moving on, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir!” Curry barked orders at the men, who nudged their horses into motion again.

  Lomax asked Jamie, “You want me to ride up yonder where Preacher is?”

  “No need,” Jamie replied. “We’ll be catching up with him in a little while.” Hoofbeats coming up behind them made him look around.

  Baron von Kuhner was approaching with an angry expression on his beefy face. “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded as he drew even with Jamie and Sutton. “It appears that we are riding directly into an ambush!” He waved his arm to indicate both bluffs. “There are savages waiting up there!”

  “So far they haven’t made a move,” Jamie said. “If we keep going, maybe they won’t.”

  “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “Well, Baron . . . there’s not much else we can do, so I reckon worrying about whether or not we should is just wasted effort.”

  Von Kuhner glared at him, but the Prussian couldn’t argue with Jamie’s logic. Still scowling, he slowed his horse and fell back along the column until he was riding again at the head of his men.

  “Lieutenant,” Sutton called.

  “Sir?” Curry asked when he joined them.

  “Drop back and keep an eye on the baron and his men. He’s nervous, and a nervous man makes mistakes. He might decide to fire a shot at those Indians, and we don’t want to be the ones to start any hostilities. If the baron or anybody else looks like he’s about to open fire, you stop them, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” Curry turned his horse and trotted back along the line of riders.

  Jamie said, “That’s good thinking, Colonel. As long as there’s even a chance we can get through this without a fight, we need to take it.”

  Sutton nodded, but the worried frown he wore remained on his face.

  A short time later, they reached the spot where Preacher, Horse, and Dog were waiting for them. The mountain man said, “They ain’t moved a lick. I don’t reckon that’ll last much longer, though.”

  “You don’t think they’re just trying to impress us?” Jamie asked.

  “Could be. But that ain’t what my belly says. It tells me they’re just drawin’ things out to make us more worried.”

  “If such is their intention,” said Sutton, “then their effort has been a success!”

  Jamie chuckled and said, “I reckon one way or another, we’ll know pretty soon, Colonel.”

  He was right. Less than thirty seconds later, a shrill whoop sounded on each bluff. The line of mounted Indians suddenly surged down the slopes, which were gentle enough that the ponies were able to work up some speed by the time they reached level ground.

  “Here they come!” Preacher said.

  Ever since they had started the nerve-racking ride through the gap, Jamie had been looking for places where they might be able to take cover and fight off the attack. Unfortunately, the Indians had chosen well. Although a clump of rocks was about fifty yards away, and just west of it a shallow gully, the cover was adequate to protect the horses, though, and if the Indians killed their mounts and left them afoot, they would have no chance of getting out of there.

  “Head for those rocks!” he called. “When you get there, get those horses down flat on the ground! Use the rocks and the gully for cover! And keep the horses down!”

  The dragoons were already galloping past him as he shouted the orders. Despite their lack of experience, they were responding well to the danger and seemed to be keeping their heads.

  The same couldn’t be said of the Prussian troops, who milled around aimlessly for a moment even though von Kuhner and Becker were screaming orders at them. A couple of the men brought their rifles to their shoulders and fired at the Indians, unaware or not caring that the attackers were still well out of range.

  Jamie rode back to them and waved his arm toward the rocks. “Move, move!” he bellowed at them. “Baron, get your men to cover!”

  Von Kuhner yelled at them some more, and finally the men started riding toward the rocks. The Indians were almost in range. In fact, Jamie spotted a few puffs of powder smoke. The warriors armed with rifles were trying some long shots. That might demoralize the white men, even if the bullets never reached them.

  Jamie fell
back to the rear of the column, and helped the soldiers hazing the pack animals and extra mounts. The men drove the animals toward the rocks. One of the sergeants called to Jamie, “We’ll never be able to save all these horses, Mr. MacCallister!”

  “Save the ones you can!” Jamie told him. “And look out for yourselves, too!”

  As he reined in near the rocks, he pulled out one of the new Sharps rifles sheathed in a scabbard strapped to his saddle and dropped to the ground. Turning the horse so he could rest the barrel across the saddle, he aimed toward the Indians charging from the eastern bluff.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw that Preacher had had the same idea. The mountain man had drawn his own Sharps and was bracing it on his saddle as Horse stood absolutely still.

  Jamie turned his attention to what he was doing and drew a bead on one of the warriors in the lead. His feathered headdress fluttering wildly as he charged, the warrior pumped a lance in the air over his head as he opened his mouth to howl a war cry.

  Jamie squeezed the trigger.

  The Sharps boomed and kicked hard against his shoulder. The horse flinched a little at the thunderous report, but not much. The cloud of gray smoke from the barrel cleared quickly, just in time for Jamie to see the Indian’s head seemingly explode like a melon. The feathers from the headdress flew high in the air. Jamie knew that the. 52 caliber ball had found its mark.

  The sudden, unexpected death of one of their leaders made the Indians’ charge slow momentarily. Jamie took advantage of that to reload the Sharps and glance over at Preacher. The mountain man was doing the same thing.

  “Get yours?” Jamie called to him.

  “Right smack through the heart, by the looks of it! How about you?”

  “Blew his head off!”

  Preacher nodded curtly and raised the reloaded Sharps again.

  As Jamie did likewise, Colonel Sutton walked coolly among his men and called to those already dismounted and stretched out behind the rocks. “Hold your fire! Let them get closer!”

  The muskets carried by the dragoons didn’t have the range of a Sharps, so Sutton was right to tell his men to wait. Some of the Prussians were still firing, wasting powder and shot. Jamie didn’t have time to rein them in. If von Kuhner and Becker couldn’t keep their men under control, that was their problem.