by Yes Jack
‘In these parts,’ explained the priest, ‘the Indians call us the “Cross God Men”. I mean me and my fellow Catholics, you understand. There’s a Baptist mission down towards El Paso and they call them the “Water God Men”. On account of their habit of dunking converts right under in the river, you know.’
‘I’d no idea that such doctrinal differences were important to the Kiowa and Comanche,’ remarked Talbot, ‘I’d have thought that one type of Christian was much the same as another.’
‘Not a bit of it,’ laughed Father O’Grady. ‘Why, my converts here are always at loggerheads with the ‘Water God Men’. They have the notion that only us with our crosses and statues are the real thing. I dare say the Baptists feel the same way.’
‘Talking of Indians, Father,’ said Talbot, ‘there’s something I feel I should tip you the wink about, if I might put it so.’
‘What might that be, Mr Rogers?’
‘Perhaps we could take a turn outside, just the two of us. I’d as soon keep this as between the two of us.’ Talbot turned to Melanie and said, ‘Don’t take this amiss, Miss Barker. It’s just a boring piece of business I need to talk over.’
‘Don’t you mind me,’ Melanie assured him. ‘Long as I can just sit here with this jug of juice and another piece of that ham, I’m fine.’
‘That’s the girl!’ said Talbot, giving her a bright smile.
Once the two men were outside in the afternoon sun, the priest said, ‘Well then, out with it. What don’t you want that child to know?’
‘I don’t want her to be scared. There’s no more to the case than that.’
‘She doesn’t strike me as one who scares that easily.’
Talbot pulled out from his jacket the envelope that he had received from Carson before he had died. He showed it to Father O’Grady and said, ‘I have here a message for the soldier in charge at Fort Williams. It gives warning that the Kiowa are about to rise. Some of the Comanche might join them. From all I know of the Comanche, that’s likely to be the first day after the full moon, what some know as a “Comanche Moon”.’
‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it. Are you sure your information is reliable?’
‘The man who gave me this letter died a few minutes later. I can’t see why he would have wished to mislead me with death standing at his very shoulder, waiting to claim him.’
Father O’Grady stopped walking and turned a troubled face to Talbot. ‘If what you say is true, Mr Rogers, then I have to warn my parishioners. Many of them are Kiowa and they’ll need to seek safety here.’
The natural respect which Talbot Rogers felt for a man of the cloth struggled briefly with the desire to save a fellow being from the consequences of his own folly. Common sense triumphed over social convention and he exclaimed irritably, ‘Are you quite mad? The last thing you must do is let on to any of the Indians that you know about this. They’ll cut your throat without thinking twice!’
‘I think that you may safely leave me to judge for myself how trustworthy are those who attend my services—’ began the priest.
Talbot cut in at this point, unable to restrain himself. ‘Begging your pardon, Father, but it’s not just your hide I’m thinking of here. It’s like to take me and that child at least another day or two to reach Fort Williams and I won’t have you setting a match to the powder train while we’re still on the road.’
Much as his men respected and feared him, it was clear that they were all a little shaken up and disturbed by the way in which their leader had so needlessly put all of their lives at hazard. Nobody felt like halting their headlong flight from the scene of the latest killing until they were a good three miles from where they had encountered the three lawmen. When at last they did so, Bob Easton, who had been with Hilton for longer than any of them, said, ‘What in the hell were you thinking of? Why did you do it?’
‘Why?’ asked Tom Hilton. ‘Why’d I do it? I’ll tell you why. No man has ever pointed a gun in my face like that without reaping the consequence of it. Nobody. I wasn’t aiming for that mouthy bastard to break the run of it.’
‘Any of us could have been shot,’ said Easton, ‘it was mad, Tom. Why’n’t you own it?’
There was a deadly silence and just when it was looking as though Bob Easton might be about to go the way of all flesh, Hilton burst out laughing and said, ‘Ah shit, you’re right, Bob. It was badly done and just my stupid pride. There now, we ain’t a goin’ to fall out over it, surely?’
Easton smiled reluctantly and said, ‘Hell, no. But Tom, we all count on you. It’d be the very devil if something befell you, so don’t take so many risks, hey?’
The others began breathing again. You never really knew with this man. One moment, you could be laughing and chatting with him, nice as pie; the next, he’d taken mortal offence at a chance word. There wasn’t one of the men riding with him who hadn’t thought that Hilton had done something right stupid that day, but only Bob Easton had the balls to brace their leader about it.
‘Now I been lessoned,’ said Hilton, winking at Easton to show he was just joking, ‘maybe we can plan our next move. I guess that you fellows want some o’ the plunder from this war that those damned savages are about to start?’
The man they called Ben stirred at hearing the Indians described as ‘savages’, but he said nothing. Tom Hilton continued, ‘They won’t be after paper money, that I do know. Gold, weapons, livestock and I don’t know what all else, but not bills. If we can hit any towns just after the Kiowa have finished with them, then there’ll be rich pickings, you can depend upon it. I’m telling you, boys, the good times are comin’!’
Chapter 7
Father O’Grady proved to be immune to reason and so Talbot thought it best if he and young Melanie set off on their way as soon as could be. He said to the priest, ‘We’re mighty obliged to you for the food, as well as the chance to rest. Good luck with your people, Father.’
‘God bless you, Mr Rogers. I appreciate your concern.’
‘It’s your funeral. It’s no affair of mine. I just hope to deliver this young lady safely to Fort Williams and then I’ll be a free agent again.’
As the two of them walked away from the mission, leading their horse along, Melanie said in a wistful voice, ‘Have I been a real nuisance to you?’
The girl’s sad tone touched Talbot’s heart and he said, ‘Don’t take on so. You mustn’t set any mind to what I say, I’m old and crabby is all. I’m just not used to looking after somebody, there’s no more to it than that.’
‘I guess you wish I hadn’t’ve come with you then.’
Talbot smiled, saying, ‘No, I wouldn’t say that. Truth to tell, you’ve cheered me up a little. It’s not often that I spend any time with a young person. You do me good.’
Although he was lying and had indeed wished that he had not become burdened with the child, she took his words at face value and smiled happily.
It was coming on towards evening by now and time that they were thinking of where to spend the night. Talbot said, ‘Have you ever slept outside? Tell me the truth now.’
Melanie shook her head. ‘I always wanted to, but my ma said it wasn’t fittin’ for a girl to stay out of doors the whole night through.’
‘Well then, it’ll be a regular novelty for you and no mistake. You know, I suppose, that you’re apt to get cold and damp?’
‘I don’t mind.’
The two of them found a little grove of stunted trees, some quarter mile from the road. It didn’t suit Talbot’s notions of concealment precisely but it was better than nothing. The nearest hills were a couple of miles distant and it was his hope to reach Fort Williams this side of Christmas. Taking four or five mile detours wasn’t the best means of achieving that end.
‘There’s only an old blanket here at back o’ the saddle,’ said Talbot, ‘you best have that.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’ll just lean with my back against yon’ tree. I’ll do well enough,
I slept like that a mort o’ times. Try and get some rest now.’
The girl shivered and said, ‘Can’t we light a fire or nothing? There looks to be a lot of dead wood. I reckon you could get a blaze going in next to no time.’
‘Happen I could,’ replied Talbot dryly, ‘but I don’t aim to be adoin’ so. Lord, after we been shot at twice in the last couple of days, you think I’m after advertising our position to the world? Don’t think it for a moment. Just try and sleep now. With luck, we’ll hit Fort Williams some time tomorrow afternoon, God willing.’ He then went off to hobble the mare, so that she wouldn’t take too much catching in the morning.
Now by all the laws of chance, Talbot Rogers’s path should never again have crossed that of Tom Hilton and his boys. It was, after all, a wide land and no reason for one man to bump into another, unless that is, he was wishing to do so. After the narrow escape from the cavalry patrol at Greenhaven and the killing of the deputy marshal up in the hills, even Tom Hilton knew that it would be pushing his luck to stretching point and beyond, were he to carry on down the vengeance trail in search of the man who had killed his brother. Much as he desired to murder this assassin, Tom Hilton saw no present prospect of being able to easily lay hands upon the man and so postponed thoughts of revenge for the time being.
Like Talbot Rogers and Melanie Barker, the Hilton gang slept out that night. Had they but known it, they were only a few miles from the mission station where Talbot and his young charge had received assistance the previous day. They knew nothing of this, however. When they rose at first light and prepared to make their way in the general direction of Fort Williams, Ben sniffed the air delicately and said, ‘There’s been a house or something burned down in the night. Sombody killed, too.’
‘How’d you know so?’ enquired another member of the band.
The ’breed shrugged. ‘I can smell it on the wind. You white folk aren’t worth shit as trackers and such. Really, you can’t smell burned man-flesh?’
Tom Hilton, who trusted Ben’s instincts and knew that they weren’t apt to lead him astray, said, ‘Which way is this fire?’
‘Right where we’re heading, towards Fort Williams.’
‘You think this rising has already begun?’
Ben shrugged and said, ‘Those I spoke to were certain-sure as it was scheduled for another day or so. Who knows what might have chanced since then?’
Hilton stood thinking for a space and then said, ‘Well then, we’ll keep to the same track. Maybe we’ll see what caused this. Either way, I want to be near Fort Williams when the fat gets in the fire. If we ain’t careful, we’s goin’ to miss out on the richest pickings here.’
It was accordingly agreed that the party would proceed cautiously in the direction of what the ’breed said was a fire and then see what was what. Then they would try to hit Fort Williams just a few paces behind the Kiowa war parties. It was a hell of a risk, but these were men who had lived with danger for the whole of their adult lives. If things ran smoothly, they might pick up enough between them to give up the game altogether and maybe buy a homestead, share of a saloon or cat house; as their various inclinations directed.
‘I’m aching all over and freezing cold,’ said Melanie Barker, ‘I surely could do with a hot breakfast.’
‘You’ll get nothing of the kind out here,’ replied Talbot unsympathetically. ‘Might I remind you that you begged me to bring you along on this trip? If you recollect correctly, you’ll know as I advised against it from the start.’
This was unanswerable and the girl contorted her face in what is known in a pretty girl as ‘making a moue’ and in a plain one, ‘pulling a face’. The only sustenance was the remains of the loaf from the previous day, washed down with draughts of cold water. While they broke their fast in this cheerless fashion, Talbot Rogers peered towards the horizon, back the way they had come from and said, ‘I don’t care for that plume of smoke. Unless I miss my guess, that’s right where that mission station stands. Or stood, which is most likely. We need to move right fast, Miss Melanie.’
With the girl mounted up on the horse, and Talbot walking briskly by her side, they set off in the direction which he fervently hoped would soon bring them in sight of Fort Williams. As they went, Talbot Rogers cast occasional, anxious glances over his shoulder, where the faint and distant smudge of dark smoke could be seen trickling up to the clear blue sky. He’d warrant in a court of law that the mission station had been put to the torch and if that was so, then the odds were that his quest was in vain. By the time they reached Fort Williams, that too would most likely have been burned and sacked.
Talbot was sensitive enough not to wish to communicate any of his fears to the child riding at his side as he strode along, and he said brightly, ‘Well, Miss, and how do you care for roughing it like a seasoned campaigner?’
‘I don’t like it at all,’ she told him frankly, ‘and if I never sleep out of doors again, that will be just fine for me. Say, we finished that bread. What’ll we do for our midday meal?’
‘Blessed if I know. Says in the Good Book that the Lord will provide.’
‘Well,’ she responded, tartly and impiously, ‘I wish He’d get on and do it. My belly’s already protesting.’
As Tom Hilton and the others were within a mile of the smouldering remains of the mission station, they noticed that another group of riders were also heading towards it, from the opposite direction. The two bands of horsemen were equidistant from their intended destination and although a good two miles separated them, Hilton could see that these others were riding in a neat and compact column. They were moreover clad in blue tunics.
‘Ah hell,’ muttered Hilton, ‘that’s the very Devil. I surely hope it ain’t that same bunch we saw at Greenhaven. If so, we’re apt to have some explaining to do.’
‘We could cut and run,’ suggested one of the men, ‘Make for those hills over to the left.’
‘I reckon as you must have dung for brains!’ exclaimed Tom Hilton wrathfully. ‘What ails you? We run now and those boys’ll make sure we’re up to no good. No, we got to front it out. I don’t want them to get the idea as we’re on the scout.’
‘No,’ said Ben, whether ironically or not, it was impossible to tell, ‘that would never do!’
The two troops of riders, the bandits and the detachment of cavalry, arrived at the remains of the mission station more or less simultaneously. There was an uneasy pause, with both bands staring, at least to begin with, not at each other but at the grisly tableau in front of the smoking shell of the mission station. A black-robed figure was spread-eagled against the one remaining wall of the building; his arms impaled to the adobe by bayonets, in a grotesque parody of the crucifixion. The corpse bristled like a porcupine with arrows.
As the men gazed in horrified fascination at this ghastly sight, their nostrils were assailed by a sickening odour of charred meat, which put some of them in mind of a barbecue. There were no roast hogs in the case though, as the blackened body that lay across the threshold of the former chapel testified. The tang in the air was from what Ben the ’breed had earlier described correctly and succinctly as the ‘smell of burned man-flesh’. Some of the cavalry troopers looked sick with the horror of the thing.
The first thing that Tom Hilton and his boys always asked themselves in an awkward situation was, can we shoot our way free of this? In the present case, it would have been little short of madness even to consider such a notion. There were thirty riders in the cavalry troop and one look at them indicated at once that these were men on active service. They were heavily armed and seemingly well-prepared for any eventuality. Not only that, but having absorbed the dreadful scene in front of them, most of them were now gazing suspiciously at Hilton and the others, perhaps trying to gauge if these men had had any part in the butchery of the men at the mission station.
The major in command of the troop broke the tense silence by asking, ‘Who might you boys be and what are you doing hereabouts?’
‘Pilgrims?’ asked the major. ‘That’s blazing strange to hear. What kind of pilgrimage are you on? Out with it quick, now. We have urgent matters to attend to.’
Coulton, who was in fact a lapsed Catholic, said, ‘We’re agoin’ to the shrine of Our Lady, away over by El Paso.’
‘I heard of it. You boys don’t look like what I’d describe as the religious sort, though. You best not be making game of me. Any o’ you know aught of this business?’
‘The killing and such, you mean? No, I am truly grieved to see a man of the cloth slain. When you men arrived, I was about to suggest to my fellow travellers as it might be fittin’ to offer up a prayer for the repose of this man’s soul.’
For a second or two, the cavalry officer stared in frank disbelief at Steve Coulton, before saying brusquely, ‘Well then, get on with it. Time’s pressing.’
Taking their lead from Coulton, Tom Hilton and the other seven men dismounted and followed Steve over to the crucified priest. It was like some dreadful game of charades, because if the cavalry realized that they were being tricked, then there was a very real chance that they would assume that the supposed pilgrims and penitents who had attempted to pull the wool over their eyes were really connected in some way with the sacking of the mission station. At best, they would be taken prisoner; at worst, perhaps shot out of hand. The soldiers looked as though they were primed and ready for any kind of action.