Jack Parker Comes of Age

by Ed Roberts

  It seemed to Tom Parker that some of those on the far edge of the great crowd might not have heard his words and his heart misgave him. He surely did not wish to launch a war; merely to put a stop to the activities of the Wyoming Stock Growers’ Association. He shouted even louder, saying, ‘Recollect what I say. No firing unless I give the word.’ Then he waved his arm and gestured that they were to make their way towards the pillar of dust hanging in the air a couple of miles away. At that point, everything began to unravel and Sheriff Parker saw that the best laid plans could be wrecked by so trifling a matter was the topography of a district.

  The fifty or so riders had perhaps caught sight of the hundreds of men riding down on them. At any rate, they set off at a smart pace, heading east or from right to left according to the perspective of Sheriff Parker’s posse. At a guess, thought the sheriff, they were not minded to try conclusions with a body of men perhaps four or five times as large as their own, and were making towards Timothy Carter’s ranch to consider their tactics. It must have come as a shock to the marauders to find that there were plenty and enough men in this part of Wyoming who were prepared to stand up to them and meet force with force.

  Most of the men in the posse were now galloping hell for leather to cut off the retreat of the Texans and offer battle. This would have been all well and good, except that a thickly wooded tongue of land lay between pursuers and their prey. Riding as they were to intercept the other men meant that Parker’s posse was going straight towards this wood, when what they really ought to be doing was to head to the right, avoid the trees and then try and catch up the other riders by chasing after them. The point was that this stretch of woodland was as thick and dark as could be. It was a part of the great forest which had once covered this part of the land. So closely spaced were the trees and so tangled the shrubbery which grew around them, that even walking through that little forest was a trial. Riding through it at anything other than a slow walking pace would be quite impossible. The sheriff knew from the lay of the land that on their present course, his men would need to weave their way through a good half mile of forest and force a path through all the brush as well. It would take at least forty minutes for all the posse to make their way through there and emerge clear on the other side.

  ‘Hey, you men!’ shouted Sheriff Parker at the top of his voice. ‘Wait up now. You need to go round that wood, not through it.’ He might as well have called to the wind for all the notice that was taken of him. Many of the men riding in the posse were whooping and making noises suggestive of martial valour. None of them seemed in the least degree minded to listen to what their leader had to say. For a moment, the thought crossed Sheriff Parker’s mind that firing a couple of shots in the air would gain their attention, but he soon abandoned this scheme as being excessively reckless. The mood those boys were in, they’d like as not start firing at random if they suspicioned that an enemy was shooting near or by them. Parker had seen just that very thing happen during the war.

  ‘Jack!’ called the sheriff, ‘Hold up there. Rein in.’ His son stopped and the mass of men rode on heedlessly. ‘I’d o’ thought that those blamed deputies of mine would have had more sense,’ muttered Tom Parker, as a couple of hundred men careered headlong down the slope towards the wood, ‘Looks like they lost their heads too.’

  Nobody seemed to have noticed the absence of their nominal leader, as the posse reached the trees and began forcing a passage through the wood. ‘What should we do, Pa?’ asked Jack, ‘Ride round the wood or just make straight off now towards Mr Carter’s place. That’s if you think they’re headed there.’

  ‘They’re on their way to Carter’s ranch, for a bet. This has taken them aback a little, I’m thinking. They thought they’d have a clear run at whatever villainy they got in mind. If nothing else, we queered their pitch a little and set them off balance. That’s a good beginning.’

  ‘So what’s to do?’

  ‘I reckon as we’ll take the long route, round the wood. Happen we’ll be able to meet the rest of that crew as they come out the other side. Damn fools.’

  The father and son set off down the hill at a lively trot and when once they had gained the level ground at the bottom, they spurred on their horses; at first into a canter and then a gallop. It took twenty minutes to work their way round the wood and onto the track which led east, in the general direction of Timothy Carter’s ranch. Jack was congratulating himself on having had the good sense to mark what his father was about, rather than just tailing after the others. He guessed that Pa would have a few choice words for his two regular deputies for their impetuous behaviour.

  Riding along the edge of the wood, both the sheriff and his son kept their ears cocked for any sound of movement in the trees, such as would indicate that the posse was almost through. Although the men had made enough noise to raise Cain when they were charging down that slope, the effort of struggling through the thick undergrowth must have quietened them down a bit. Jack and his father had to cool their heels for the best part of a quarter-hour before they began to hear the sound of men cursing and complaining. It was another fifteen minutes before the first of the men of the posse struggled free of the toils and emerged from the wood, greeting the sheriff shamefacedly.

  Slowly, the men whom Sheriff Parker hoped would help him to restore order in Benton County straggled from the thick undergrowth and assembled in the roadway. The two deputies attempted some slight apology to their boss when they finally got free of the tangled woodland, but by that time Tom Parker was beyond being annoyed and simply waved off their expressions of regret, too weary even to reproach the men for their stupidity.

  When everybody seemed to have made it through, the sheriff addressed them thus: ‘I’m guessing that you all know that those blackguards will have had time by now to make themselves comfortable at Carter’s place? Most likely they’ve set up defensible positions and prepared for our arrival. Had you men just waited a second and listened to me, we’d have caught them on the hop, run them down before they even reached the ranch. Well, there it is. This foolishness has made the business ten times more difficult and a sight more dangerous than it might otherwise have been – and that’s all I have to say on the subject.’

  It was a subdued and chastened bunch of men who set off down the road at a trot. There was little enough point in galloping after their quarry now. As the sheriff had correctly pointed out, they would not now be able to overtake the men they were hunting in the open. Chances were that they would be hunkered down at Timothy Carter’s ranch, ready and waiting for the approach of the sheriff’s men. Dealing with fifty men who were dug in and ready to defend their positions was a horse of another colour entirely from an equal battle in the open between opposing groups of riders.

  ‘What will we do?’ asked Jack curiously of his father, ‘Meaning if they won’t surrender to you?’

  ‘Surrender?’ said Sheriff Parker in surprise, the idea not having previously occurred to him. ‘Those boys won’t surrender. Why should they? There’s murder been done and they’ll none of them be keen to lay down their weapons and allow themselves to be hanged.’

  ‘You wouldn’t hang ’em, Pa, would you? Not without a trial and all?’

  ‘I wouldn’t, but they’re not to know that. Fools. You never seen the Bible text, where it says that, “The wicked flee where none pursueth?”’

  ‘Then what?’

  Tom Parker lowered his voice, so that only his son could hear what he was saying. ‘Truth is, boy, I don’t rightly know what’s going to happen next. I saw one or two sieges during the war, but encountering such a thing in civil life will be something of a novelty.’

  Just exactly as they feared, by the time the ranch came in sight it was plain that this was going to be no easy enterprise. While they had only been riding against individual homesteads, with just one or two men to deal with, the Texans had been fearless and bold enough. Now, faced with a couple of hundred armed men whose blood was up, the case was al
tered and the invaders showed no inclination to fight. Instead, they were seemingly determined to stay put and await further developments. When the first riders of the posse came within a hundred yards of Carter’s house, a couple of shots rang out. Nobody was hurt; in all probability this was meant to be a warning, and whoever fired was like as not shooting wide on purpose. The message, though, was clear: keep back, or there will be bloodshed.

  Over half the men in Sheriff Parker’s posse were veterans of the war between the states, and these men knew that there is one infallible rule of warfare, from the time of the ancient Romans, right up to the present day: that the advantage always lies with the defender. Those hiding behind walls or crouched in ditches, able to steady their weapons and take careful aim, are always better situated than men running towards them across open ground. It was so at Agincourt and Crecy, and it is as true in the age of repeating rifles.

  After those warning shots had been fired, Sheriff Parker called for his column to halt and began to consider well what his next course of action should be. It was while he was pondering on this important question that there was another shot from the direction of Timothy Carter’s place and a ball struck Tom Parker on the side of his head and sent him tumbling from his horse.

  Chapter 8

  When he saw his father fall from the horse upon which he was mounted, it seemed to Jack Parker that his heart stopped beating momentarily. He could not breathe and felt as panicky as a girl. This passed in an instant and he leapt from his own horse and rushed over to where his father lay still in the dust of the track. Brandon Ross and Jerry also jumped down and came over to see what was to do. Jerry said, ‘Is he breathing?’

  ‘He’s breathing,’ said Jack, ‘Thank the Lord, I don’t think he’s badly hurt. The ball must’ve just grazed his head here at the side. Look!’

  Sheriff Parker’s temple was indeed grazed, but it was plain that no bullet had entered, nor shattered, his skull. He was breathing as peacefully as a man slumbering in his bed at night, quite oblivious to what was going on around him. Jack said to the deputies, ‘Help me to move him to the side, so’s he won’t get trampled on by all them riders.’ Once this was done, he said to Brandon Ross and Jerry Reece, ‘Well, I guess it’s up to us, leastways ’til my pa comes to.’

  The idea of acting without instructions or even the authority of their boss seemed to be a strange and unwelcome one to the two young men. Brandon said, ‘We best not take any action for now. Tom, which is to say your father, is apt to get mighty irritated if’n me and Jerry does stuff off our own bat, as they say.’ Jerry Reece nodded his agreement and muttered, ‘Ain’t that the truth!’

  Looking from one man to the other, Jack saw to his amazement that neither deputy was willing to take any responsibility for what was to be done. One thing seemed to him quite certain, and that was that it would be crazy-mad to leave the men of the posse to their own devices. There would be shooting and bloodshed and who knew what, and all to no purpose. Somebody needed to arrange things so that those wretches, now holed up in and around Mr Carter’s house, did not either escape or launch a sudden and unexpected attack on those who had pursued them. Keenly aware that he was the youngest present and being most unwilling to push his self forward, the boy said to both Brandon and Jerry, ‘I’ll take any blame attached to it, but we got to do something. When my father comes to, you can tell him it was all my doing, but we must get some of the men to work round the outside of the yard and barn and take up positions in the shelter of those trees. Else, some of those fellows from Texas might try and circle round us and come at us from the rear.’

  Having been absolved from responsibility and seeing that Jack was willing to shoulder responsibility should the plan miscarry, the two young deputies did as he had suggested and sent two dozen men to make their way around Carter’s home and yard, so that they could take up posts on the other side of the property and give warning if any of the Texans looked likely to spring a surprise attack.

  Jack checked his father once more and was reassured to find that he was still unconscious and breathing easily. Had he not known what had happened, the sheriff’s son would have thought that his pa had taken it into his head to lay down and have a refreshing sleep. Brandon and Jerry came over to see how their boss was doing. Brandon said, ‘Well, we got some of the boys to make their way round the back there. Anybody tries to escape that way, we got them covered. Other than that, I don’t see there’s much to be done.’

  ‘We could move the most of the men back, out of range of anybody minded to start firing on us,’ said Jack hesitantly. ‘We’d set some of those with muskets to set a watch on this side as well. Maybe conceal themselves and keep an eye on things. Then we could see what was needful to be done next.’

  Coming to, Sheriff Parker became aware of a man giving instructions relating to the disposition of forces taking part in some kind of action. For a second or two, Tom Parker did not know where he was or what had happened, and wondered if he was dreaming of the war, as he sometimes did. Then he suddenly knew exactly where he was, and realized to his utter amazement that the quietly confident man he had heard giving orders was none other than his own son. The thought stunned him, and for that fraction of an instant he was privileged to be able to see his own child through other people’s eyes. Instead of a callow youth, he heard a young man with an air of leadership about him, somebody to whom others listened and of whom they took notice. It was a most disconcerting revelation to see his son at a distance, as it were.

  The sheriff got to his feet and said, ‘Who’s in charge of this expedition son, you or me?’

  Turning round sharply, Jack’s face lit up at the sight of his father restored to his usual vigour. He said apologetically, ‘I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to step in where I wasn’t needed.’

  A warm smile spread across his father’s face, not at all a common thing for the sheriff, and he said quietly, ‘You’ve nothing to say sorry for. You’re doing just fine.’

  ‘Are you sure that you’re all right, boss?’ asked Jerry Reece. ‘Shouldn’t you stay sitting for a spell, case you get giddy or aught like that?’

  ‘Stop fussing, man,’ said Sheriff Parker. ‘You’re worse than a woman. You have those boys penned up nice and secure, I hope?’

  It appeared that Tom Parker was none the worse for the glancing blow that the musket ball had caught him, and he swiftly took command again. The blow to his head had not shaken him overly much, and his mind was now made up about the course of action which he and the others would be taking. If those Texan invaders wanted a fight, then they could have it. As far as the sheriff was concerned, he would be happy to see every man-Jack of the southrons killed in battle, if that was what it would take to rid Benton County of them. Like his son, he could not forget nor forgive the lynching of a woman, and if these men thought that they could usurp authority and deal out death as they pleased, then he, Sheriff Tom Parker, was the one to show them the error of their ways.

  The plan that Sheriff Parker had come up with was a simple enough one. Most of the men from the posse were now stationed around Carter’s house, barn and fields, where the ‘range detectives’ were, although they couldn’t be seen. The only way that they would be leaving that area was either in pine boxes or by surrendering and yielding up their arms. It was not in reason to expect the posse to settle down for a protracted siege, and so if there was no sign of surrender within the next twenty-four hours or by dusk the following day, then the sheriff intended to storm the ranch and kill anybody who offered resistance. In the meantime, he kept enough men positioned around the area where the Texans were, to be sure of knowing if any attempt were made to break out. The main body of his men, over a hundred strong, he held back in reserve. These would be the ones who would carry out the attack on the ranch house and barn the next day.

  It was now about two or three in the afternoon, and if these plans were adhered to, thought Jack, then there was likely to be great loss of life the next day. The
thought troubled him, angry and bitter as he still was about the murder of Aggie Roberts. Even now, he did not understand the full import of what was afoot. It was not until he came across his father talking in a low voice to Brandon Ross that Jack fully collected what was being planned. Perhaps being knocked out in the way that he had been by that musket-ball had enraged his father and clouded his judgement, or perhaps it was what he had intended all along; Jack had no idea. But as he approached his father, where he was speaking to the deputy of his plans for the following day, he distinctly heard the sheriff say, ‘I don’t look for them to surrender. We’ll kill every mother’s son of those rogues tomorrow, I’m telling you.’ It was the first intimation that a massacre was being planned and that his own father was the instigator of it.

  On hearing these words, Jack Parker slipped away, without speaking to his father. He needed to do some serious thinking. He walked around a little, reasoning the matter out to his own satisfaction. One point, which should have been perfectly obvious, now struck him, and he resolved to check this at once with his father. He went back to where he had last seen his father, but could find neither the sheriff nor Brandon Ross. When he did track them down, it was to find a conversation going on between his father and his deputies and a half-dozen other men. Chary of pushing himself forward, Jack stood on the edge of the little group, somewhat to the back of his father, so he was out of sight. What he heard horrified him beyond measure.

  Tom Parker said, ‘It might be time to poke the anthill a little, stir things up, you know.’

  ‘Meaning what, sheriff? In practical terms?’ replied a man whom Jack did not know, but who looked as though he was probably a settler. ‘You mean get them men riled up a little?’

  ‘I was thinking of firing on them a little and see how they like the experience,’ said Sheriff Parker, ‘Wouldn’t like ’em to feel too comfortable and secure in there, you know.’