by R. E. Miller
Lamar chimed in, “Story has it that their mother was familiar with this area. As a young girl, her tribe would camp along the river at different points every summer and the Cogan was one of them. Poll Soll was her favorite; she taught him everything she knew about Indian life. Jim took after his father, mean, especially when he drank.”
“Ever since I was a young lad, my pop and others told me they heard there was an Indian burial ground in this area, but nobody ever found it,” the innkeeper added.
“I heard that same rumor, but I don’t know if it’s true or not,” Lamar said.
Phillip continued, “Were either of them married?”
“I’m not sure,” the innkeeper responded. “Jim owns the house about a mile from here where the barn sits across the road. That’s the old homestead; it needs a lot of work.”
“Does the little man, Poll Soll, ever come into the tavern?”
The innkeeper was quick to answer. “No, he’s seldom seen and keeps to himself up there in the Cogan. I’ll bet in my whole life I haven’t seen him more than five times, and I’m not a spring chicken.”
Lamar added, “His brother takes care of his needs, not that he has any. Folks around here claim he lives off mostly wildlife. He’s more the Indian and hunts with a bow. I know he is strong too, once I saw him coming out of the woods carrying a deer over his shoulders.”
The lieutenant nodded. “It’s something to remember,” he said softly. He stood. “Gentlemen, this has been a very interesting conversation. I’m glad I stopped. I’ve learned a lot, but I must be going. I have to get to the fort before nightfall.”
“Soldier, why are you asking all these questions?” Lamar wanted to know.
“The rumors are true. There was a murder committed in the Cogan. Today I found out there were two murders committed. I believe it was Poll Soll that committed the murders. I need to find him.”
Lamar and the innkeeper looked at each other.
“I should be back with a patrol in the next week or so. I’ll stop here to see if anyone has seen him. Gentlemen, have a good day.”
While he rode, Phillip thought about what he had learned of the two men. He was sure none of the local residents knew of Poll Soll’s whereabouts, or the innkeeper would’ve mentioned it. He thought perhaps he did leave the area but decided this is his home, and he wouldn’t leave. He might be held up somewhere around here, and they’d find him. He was puzzled how the big stranger wound up in the well. It didn’t make any sense. He now knew he was looking for one man instead of two. Phillip also guessed the knife he’d found was the same knife Jim Soll took in that fight twenty years earlier and was the same knife that killed Rachel.
The lieutenant arrived at the fort totally exhausted and hungry just as night set in. After supper, he went to bed.
The next morning he reported to the captain. “I’m glad you’re back, Lieutenant. That was quite a tragedy that you experienced. How’s that girl, Miss Fairchild, doing? If there is something I can do, please let me know. By the way, I let all the paperwork pile up in your absence.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said with a grin. “Miss Fairchild is doing better. She seems to be getting stronger each day. Thank you for asking, sir.”
“Do you have any idea who did this?”
“Yes, I know who is responsible. Actually, after I get caught up, I would like to take a patrol and catch the man who did this, but I’ll discuss that with you later.”
Phillip wrote to Ann but never mentioned what he had learned about the two men. He couldn’t help wonder if she remembered anything about the horrible day, but he didn’t want to stir up terrible memories.
The week progressed, and Phillip hurried to complete all of the paperwork. He was anxious to get back to the Cogan and find Poll Soll.
CHAPTER 17
After two weeks, Phillip wrote to Tom to tell him that he should prepare himself. He’d talked to the captain who approved his plan for the search and had given him four days for the manhunt. He’d also allowed him six soldiers but indicated that they would have to be volunteers.
It didn’t take much for Phillip to get six volunteers. The men liked him and had heard through the rumor mill that he was going to avenge the death of Rachel Miller, a friend of the lieutenant. They’d also heard that Rachel had been killed while under the lieutenant’s escort, but no one spoke that fact aloud. Early Monday morning, the troops and a supply wagon assembled inside the fort. Before they moved out Sergeant Koppenhaver asked, “Lieutenant, we’ve heard of murders around Herndon. Is that why we’re going on this patrol?”
“Yes, that’s why we’re going. I’ll explain everything to all of you when we set up camp.”
By noon they were at the Herndon Inn, and Phillip ordered the men to stop. “I need to talk to the innkeeper. It’ll give you a chance to warm up.”
“May we get a drink, sir?” one soldier asked.
“No,” Phillip said. “We don’t have the time for that.”
When he opened the door the innkeeper said, “Lieutenant, it’s nice to see you again.”
“I stopped to inquire about the man they call Poll Soll and allow the men to warm up. By any chance do you know if anyone has seen him lately?”
“Nobody’s mentioned seeing him,” Mr. Parson looked outside and saw the dismounting soldiers. He nodded as if acknowledging he’d been right about something. “I thought the Army would investigate. Shortly after you left, I started asking folks if they’d seen him. It seems he disappeared, almost like he vanished.”
“That’s not surprising based on what you told me about his background, but we’ll find him. Thanks for the information.”
Before they left, the innkeeper asked, “Lieutenant, this is about the two murders that took place in the Cogan, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct, and I believe that Poll Soll is responsible,” Phillip said turning away.
“Let’s go,” Phillip ordered his men. He glanced back at the innkeeper. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Parson.”
Approaching the farm house where he’d last seen Jim Soll standing on the porch, Phillip motioned for the members of the patrol to surround the house. When he was satisfied that his men were posted at all the possible escape routes, the back door, the basement door and the windows, Phillip readied his pistol. He and Sergeant Koppenhaver entered through the front door. The place was a deplorable mess; it had a foul odor and dirty clothes were scattered everywhere. When they entered the kitchen, there was food on the floor and table and dirty plates in the dry sink. Trash was everywhere. “Looks like a pigsty,” Phillip said, wrinkling his nose.
“This place is worse than my quarters, Lieutenant.” The sergeant chuckled. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Then several rats ran across the floor. “Let’s get out of here, Sergeant. I can’t take this filth and smell anymore. What it doesn’t smell like is a decaying body, so we know they didn’t kill each other and save us the trouble. I don’t see anything to indicate he’s here, at least not lately.”
It wasn’t hard to find a place to setup camp since the January thaw had melted a lot of the snow. Phillip chose a spot not too far from the entrance to the Cogan. When the camp was set up and the tents were in place, he took four men and went into the Cogan. It was time to pull Jim Soll out of the well.
“Where are we going, Lieutenant?” Sergeant Koppenhaver asked.
“We have a task to perform, Sergeant.”
Before they reached the burnt out buildings, Phillip ordered them to stop and tie their horses.
“You’re probably not going to like this part of the job,” Phillip said looking at each of the men. “But it has to be done.”
Puzzled, they looked at each other. Phillip saw that the pieces of wood he had placed over the well were gone. Cautiously, he walked to the well, looked in and shook his head in disbelief.
“What is it, sir?” Sergeant Koppenhaver asked.
“There was a dead body in here a
few weeks ago. I stopped here just before returning to the fort.” He pushed his hat back and scratched his head. “He’s gone now.”
“Did you see enough to identify him?” one of the men asked.
“It was Jim Soll. Someone split his skull open and dropped him feet first into the well.”
“Jim Soll?” a soldier asked.
“The man who lived in that farm house we searched. He was one of the men that gave me this scar.” He pointed to his head where the bullet that knocked him from the saddle and almost killed him had left a section of torn flesh that had finally scabbed over.
“Someone must have pulled him out,” Sergeant Koppenhaver said.
“It was his brother, Poll,” Phillip said. “He’s here, I know he’s here, and we’ll find him.”
With cupped hands around his mouth Phillip turned toward the Cogan and yelled as loud as he could, “We’ll find you. We’ll find you, Poll Soll, you bastard.” It echoed throughout the Cogan.
“Sergeant, I want you and the men to accompany me through the Cogan and then return to the camp and take command until I return.”
“Where are you going, sir?”
“I’m going to pick up a friend to assist us in the search. We should be back before noon. Keep alert! The bastard that attacked me and killed Rachel Miller is out there somewhere and he knows this area like the back of his hand. When I get back, we’ll talk strategy. Don’t do a damn thing until I get back!”
***
From the side of the mountain, Poll Soll observed the troops. He faintly heard Phillip’s threat but didn’t smile at it. He understood that the Army thought he was one of the killers. He was tempted to walk into the camp and give himself up, to explain that he’d watched his brother do evil things in the past and had never stopped him until this time. But he guessed that the Army wasn’t interested in the truth. They wanted vengeance.
Poll Soll melted back into the trees and, invisible to the squad camped below disappeared as silently as a ghost into the rising mist. He knew the Cogan well and that gave him an advantage. The fact that people thought he was dull gave him another advantage.
Everything he knew, Poll learned from his Indian mother and a few braves who quietly visited and just as quietly departed while Poll was young.
It was his mother’s knowledge of medicine that saved his leg and his life. She showed him how to survive off the land. He made arrows and hunted with a bow and learned how to cover his trail. Most importantly, she showed him the Indian burial ground. To Poll Soll, this was the most sacred place on earth; no one except Poll Soll now knew where it was.
***
The sun was just setting when Phillip arrived at the lodge. He hugged Mary and as he gave Tom a handshake he sensed that Tom was annoyed.
“What have you been doing, searching without me?” Tom asked angrily.
Phillip lifted a placating hand. “Whoa,” he said. “I had to finish a ton of paperwork before the captain would consider letting me leave. Didn’t you get my letter explaining that?”
Tom nodded. “I got it. Sorry. It’s been hard sitting around for a couple of weeks not knowing what you were doing.”
“We’ll leave at daybreak. My men are camped on the lower side of the Cogan waiting for my return.”
“You and Tom can catch up on things while I get something for us to eat,” Mary said.
“Mary, have you heard from Charles?” Phillip asked.
“Yes, but only that he hopes to return here as soon as Ann is feeling better.”
Phillip nodded. “I got a letter from Ann. She said she had another dream about Rachel. She believes Rachel’s spirit spoke to her about the incident and told her again not to blame herself for what happened.”
“I guess she blames me instead,” Tom shot back.
”It helps to know that Rachel can forgive us,” Phillip said. “I don’t know if I believe all that, but Ann does and she wants us to believe it, too. Nobody is to blame for this but the men who killed Rachel.”
“Yeah, but tell my gut that!” Tom shouted. “I thought it would be good for us if Rachel went. I thought I’d get an advantage with Mr. Fairchild and…” his face clouded, and he was unable to finish his sentence.
“We all feel guilty about it. Every day I ask ‘what if’, but it won’t bring her back. I hope that catching this murderer will ease some of the pain and guilt for all of us,” Phillip consoled.
Mary picked up on his comment. “What do you mean murderer, Phillip? I thought there were two men involved?”
“I thought that too, but on the way back to the fort, I found the taller man floating face up in the well. Now I know we’re only looking for one man: Poll Soll.”
“Well that’s a good thing, isn’t it? To hunt down only one man instead of two,” Tom added.
Phillip nodded then asked, “Did you have a chance to acquaint yourself with the area?”
“I rode around the area when I wasn’t helping Mary. I even got as far as the Cogan but took your advice and didn’t enter. Riding alone made me realize just how much Rachel meant to me. I did a lot of soul searching over the last couple weeks. I miss her so much. I still can’t believe she is gone.” Tears filled Tom’s eyes.
After regaining his composure Tom inquired, “Did Ann mention anything about Carrie in her letters?”
“Yes, Ann has tried to visit her on occasion, but Carrie resents her presence and won’t open the door. Ann thinks she has bitter feelings toward the Fairchild’s.”
“I knew this would happen.” Tom shook his head. “She told me she would hold me personally responsible if anything happened to Rachel. She would blame the Fairchild’s too.”
Phillip turned to Mary. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing fine. Tom has been company for me and a big help. He did everything I asked of him, but I must confess I miss Charles a little.” Both men laughed at her comment.
“Ah, the truth at last,” Phillip chuckled then stifled a yawn. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m tired and four o’clock comes early.”
In the morning Tom was up before Phillip, and again Mary had prepared breakfast. While he ate Phillip stated, “This morning when we get to the Cogan I’ll show you where everything happened and try to describe what took place.”
Tom was anxious to leave and took the lead as they headed through the gap toward the Cogan. They approached the Cogan and Phillip requested, “Let’s walk the horses so I can show you where and what transpired that day.”
Even though the bloodstains disappeared from the snow Phillip knew the exact site of the murder when he saw the handkerchief tied around the tree. Pointing to the bank Phillip relived that day, telling Tom each detail. Tom paused for a moment before he realized that he was standing on the spot where Rachel was murdered.
“It’s time to mount up and move on if we want to get to the camp this afternoon,” Phillip said.
While riding down the trail Phillip mentioned the eerie feeling he had before and told Tom, “When I came back alone I felt as if someone was watching me the entire time. I looked all around, but I didn’t see a soul. It was scary.”
Phillip pointed at the well when they approached the burnt out dwellings. “I was never so frightened in my life as when I found him, Jim Soll, floating face up with his eyes wide open. When I came back with the patrol and wanted to bury the body, I was shocked to find it gone. His brother must have pulled him out. That’s why I know he’s still around.”
Soon they were out of the Cogan to the spot where the soldiers were camped.
Phillip was glad to be back with his men. “It’s good to see you men. I want you to meet someone; Tom Straub is going to join us in the search.”
“Tonight, I’m going to tell all of you exactly what you’ve volunteered for.” He looked at the sergeant and asked, “Sergeant, is everything okay? What have you been up to in my absence?”
“Waiting for you, sir, and of course, playing poker,” he replied.
“No, we won’t be going out today anymore, but I expect everyone to be up bright and early. I have plans for the next three days.”
That night as they sat around the campfire and ate, Phillip told the men exactly what happened in the Cogan, and for whom they were searching.
CHAPTER 18
True to his word, Phillip and his men were up bright and early. After mess he ordered, “Saddle up. I want to get started.” Phillip had led numerous patrols in the past but never a manhunt before. Nevertheless, it was his goal to capture Poll Soll within three days – or less, if he could.
Dawn was breaking as they left camp, giving them enough light to see where they were riding. The hoots of a great horned owl echoed throughout the Cogan making an eerie backdrop to the steady drone of horse hooves as they headed to the upper end of the Cogan.
Phillip studied the forest on each side of the trail. Morning dew sparkled in the early dawn. Huge majestic trees reached for the sky on the southern slopes dominated by poplar, red oak, black birch, and chestnut oak, with sprinkles of red maple, white oak, locust, hickory, and white pine. The northern slopes were different. Those sometimes sheer ascents were populated by huge hemlock and black birch. There were other varieties of trees that filled in the gaps, but they couldn’t compete and tended to be smaller. Dominant among the smaller greenery was mountain laurel that spread its branches like grasping claws making passage by man or horse impossible.
From his perch on the side of the mountain, near enough to the soldier’s campsite, Poll Soll observed their every move without fear of being seen or caught. He was mildly surprised to see the campsite left unattended, but he had no intention of going there.