Montana Territory

by Charles G. West

  * * *

  The peace and quiet of his little retreat from the scouting business did not last long. Late in the afternoon of his third day at his cabin, he was in the process of butchering a deer when he heard the sound of gunfire. It was coming from somewhere down the mountain, and anytime he heard shooting on his mountain it was cause for concern. Of further concern, the shots sounded to be from a pistol, and they came in bursts of two or three shots at a time. It was definitely not a hunter, so he decided it was in his best interest to investigate. Whatever the shooting, it was too close to his camp. He washed his hands in the stream to clean the deer blood off them, picked up his rifle, and started down the stream on foot. The shooting stopped for a short while but started again when he was a little farther down. He realized then that whoever it was, they had evidently found his stream. More cautious now, he moved carefully, his rifle ready to fire. He stopped when he detected movement through the branches of the trees, then moved forward again, his rifle cocked, until he discovered the cause of the trouble.

  “Conner, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

  Just before aiming his pistol up in the air to fire off a couple more shots, Lieutenant Conner jumped, startled. “Hawk?” he asked.

  “Who else would you expect it to be?” Hawk answered. “What are you doin’ up here doin’ all that shootin’? What are you shootin’ at?”

  “Hawk,” Conner repeated, this time with a tone of satisfaction. “I knew you’d find me. I know this is the way you told me to come to your place—pie-shaped rock on the river, follow the stream up the mountain. I did that, but I climbed up this stream so far that I was beginning to wonder if I was on the right stream.”

  “You ain’t but about halfway there. What are you lookin’ for me for?”

  Without answering his question, Conner complained, “The other night in town, you didn’t wait for me to come back to the fort.”

  “And you came all the way up here to complain because I wasn’t there?” Hawk asked.

  “No, I came here on official business. I need you for a search patrol,” Conner answered. “I woulda told you that night at Sadie’s, but I didn’t think it polite to talk about it in front of Miss Carpenter. She’s a very delicate young lady, and it might have upset her to hear talk about Indians, and outlaws, and such.”

  “Ain’t you heard? I don’t work for the army anymore,” Hawk responded. “Does Lieutenant Meade know you’ve come all the way up here to see me?”

  Conner grinned. “He knows it, but he doesn’t like it. I convinced Major Brisbin that you’re the man I’ve got to have on this patrol.”

  “And what makes you think that? What about Ben Mullins or Raymond Red Coyote? They’re both good scouts.” He paused and shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your efforts to try to get me back on the payroll, but I’ve still got a lot of work to do on my cabin.”

  “Ah, that cabin ain’t gonna go anywhere,” Conner replied, “and you know you couldn’t stand sitting around up here in these damn woods very long. You’d be back in Bozeman, begging Harvey to let you go back to work. I’m giving you a chance to come back under your terms, and you won’t have to beg Harvey Meade.”

  Hawk had to admit that Conner might have a point there, and it was always nice to know he had a job. “What’s so special about this patrol?”

  “Why don’t you show some manners and invite me up to your cabin, instead of standing here in the middle of this little stream? Have you got any coffee and something to eat? It’s already suppertime and I’ll tell you all about it while we eat. I know I ain’t going back tonight. It’s already getting dark under these trees.”

  Hawk couldn’t help laughing at his good friend. Sometimes he acted like a young kid, but he never came up short when it was time to fight, and Hawk had seen that in more than one engagement. “All right,” he said. “I reckon I can spare a little bit of venison and coffee. Come on.” He turned and started back up the mountain.

  Conner followed him, leading his horse. “Venison?” he asked. “Are you talking about old deer jerky you’ve smoked about six months ago? Or are you talking about fresh-killed deer meat?”

  “For someone who just invited himself to share my food, you sure are mighty picky. I killed a deer not two hours ago. I was workin’ on it when I heard you shootin’ up the trees.”

  “I had to get your attention,” Conner said in defense of his actions. “Hot damn, I haven’t had any fresh venison since the last patrol we were on together.”

  As he had said, Conner didn’t start to tell Hawk of the mission until they were both sitting by the fire, eating. Finally, he became serious. “Hawk, there’s a whole mule train gone missing for about five days now.” He went on to explain that a party of immigrants had last been seen when they left Fort Benton. “They’re a church group,” he said, “maybe Mormons, I don’t know for sure, about thirty folks, counting women and children. They never showed up at Great Falls, not hide nor hair of them. And they were carrying a large amount of money to build a new church in Helena.”

  “That’s a pretty good reason they might be missin’,” Hawk said. “Why did you need me to guide the patrol? They were most likely followin’ the Mullan Road, so I don’t reckon I’d do any different than Ben or Raymond would have. You probably don’t even need a scout.”

  “Like I told Major Brisbin, you were up in that part of the territory just recently, and you probably know it better than they do.”

  “Well, that’s true, I was up that way not long ago, but it wasn’t on an army patrol. I was doing some personal business.”

  “That’s right,” Conner insisted. “You told me about it. You were gone from the fort for a long time and you said you scouted the Mullan Road, from Great Falls all the way to the Bitterroot Valley. You found the three men you were looking for, so you know that country a lot better than the other scouts. Hell, you lived up in that part of the territory for a couple of years with the Blackfoot Indians. Ain’t that right?”

  Hawk shrugged modestly. “Maybe, but that ain’t no guarantee I’ll find those folks. A mule train of that size had to leave some tracks. Are you tellin’ me nobody saw where they left the road?”

  “Guess not,” Conner replied. “They said a detachment of soldiers was sent down to Great Falls from Fort Benton. They looked around for a day or two, said they could find no trace of ’em, and went on back to Fort Benton.”

  “A party that big had to leave some tracks,” Hawk insisted.

  “Right,” Conner was quick to agree. “And that’s why I need you to ride scout on this patrol. So, what about it, will you go?”

  “I reckon.” His curiosity was finally aroused.

  “Good man,” Conner said. “I told Major Brisbin you’d do the job. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  “All I’m agreein’ to do is go up there to see if I can find out what happened to ’em. Most likely all we’ll find is a bunch of dead bodies. You said they left Fort Benton five days ago. That ain’t much more’n thirty miles from Great Falls, so that gives ’em four days to wander off to who knows where right there. It’s three and a half days’ ride from Fort Ellis to Great Falls for us, so that makes it well over a week, and that’s not countin’ the time it’ll take for us to get back to Fort Ellis and get a patrol on the road.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s right,” Conner allowed. “But the patrol is already scheduled to move out tomorrow at noon, so we’ll save a little time there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  Hawk shook his head as if exasperated. “You know there ain’t a chance in hell we’ll find any of those folks alive, and we’ll sure as hell never recover the money. How in the world did you talk Brisbin into lettin’ you take a patrol up there?”

  “The fellow who was leading the mule train was Major Brisbin’s nephew, Donald.”

  “Oh,” Hawk replied, and raised an eyebrow. “So, this big mission to save the mule train wasn’t your idea
at all.” When Conner merely responded with another sheepish grin and a shrug of his shoulders, Hawk said, “Well, I reckon we can try to find out what happened to the major’s nephew. Brisbin’s always been a fair man with me.” He paused to think about it. “How did you get the job of leadin’ a patrol up there?” As important as it was to the major, he would have thought his ranking lieutenant, Harvey Meade, would had drawn the assignment.

  “Because Brisbin knew I could persuade you to go as scout,” Conner said, in answer to Hawk’s question.

  The rest of that evening was spent on preparing Hawk’s cabin to be left again. He finished up the butchering of the deer and kept a small portion to cook in the morning. The rest was staked out to be smoke-cured that night. The next morning, Hawk carried some smoked meat and other supplies up the mountain to his cache. Then he closed his cabin up and padlocked it, and as always, hoped no one would find it before he got back.

  * * *

  They rode into Fort Ellis shortly before noon and went straight to the headquarters building. When his clerk alerted him that Lieutenant Conner was heading his way, with Hawk riding beside him, the major got up from his desk and came out to meet them at the door. “Hawk,” Brisbin greeted him. “I appreciate you coming to help us on this thing. I expect Lieutenant Conner filled you in on all the details. I agree with Lieutenant Conner that no one would be better qualified to scout on this mission than you. My sister’s only son organized a party of religious people to go to Helena to build a church. Donald was always a little shy when it came to being a man, and I know my sister wishes he hadn’t involved himself in this church business. I tried to talk him into joining the army, but he said he could not bring himself to take up arms against his fellow man.” He slowly shook his head as soon as he said it, then realizing he was drifting off point, he said, “I apologize for that misunderstanding about you being fired. Lieutenant Meade and I have talked about that.”

  “There wasn’t any misunderstandin’ on my part,” Hawk said, finally able to get a word in. “The lieutenant said I was no longer employed in any capacity at Fort Ellis. He made it pretty clear.” He looked around at the open doors to the two inner offices, but he didn’t see Meade anywhere. From his experience trying to work with the man, he wasn’t surprised. He speculated that he might be off somewhere choking on his pride. “But I’d always be ready to help you in any way I can.” He felt he had to discourage the major from expecting any results other than sorrowful ones, however, since the group had been missing so long already. Just as he had advised Conner, he told Brisbin that it seemed totally unlikely that anyone escaped. But, since no one had showed up to tell what had happened, it was hard not to assume them all dead.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” Brisbin said, “and I have to admit that I share your expectations. But, man, this is my sister’s only son! Not that I wouldn’t send a patrol up there to search if I didn’t have a personal interest,” he quickly added. “So you just tell Lieutenant Conner what you need and we’ll get it for you. I’ve authorized a patrol of fifteen men, with rations for ten days. They’re ready to leave when you are.”

  “I’ll need some grain for my horse,” Hawk answered, “maybe some extra coffee from your food stores, some hardtack, some .44 cartridges. I’ve got meat. That’s about all I need, and I’ll be ready to start as soon as I pack it on the horse.”

  “Excellent!” the major said. “Conner, make sure he gets what he wants.”

  “When did that mule train leave Fort Benton?” Hawk asked, even though Conner had already told him. The major said they had left there more than six days ago and had expected to reach Great Falls the afternoon of that day, but never showed up. It was the same as Conner had told him, but he thought it wouldn’t hurt to double-check. That meant they would have departed Fort Benton about ten days before Conner’s patrol could even reach Fort Benton, maybe more, if there were any delays along the way. It would be a miracle if there were any tracks to follow after that amount of time. The patrol was beginning to sound more and more like a lost cause. They weren’t likely to find any survivors, but maybe they could find out what had happened to the mule train.

  Major Brisbin walked Hawk and Conner to the door. “Thank you again, Hawk, and good hunting.”

  * * *

  So far, things were moving right along, as far as Hawk was concerned. When Conner scheduled the patrol, he didn’t allow much time to find Hawk and start back the next day. Even so, they were less than an hour behind the scheduled departure time Conner had informed him of the night before. With the horses of the patrol standing saddled and ready, Hawk was happy there had been no chance meeting with Lieutenant Meade. That feeling was only temporary, however, for as the patrol was about to mount, the lieutenant came out of the powder magazine and walked directly toward the head of the column where Hawk and Conner stood. As Hawk expected, it was an ego visit on the part of Meade to make sure Hawk, as well as Conner, understood his higher ranking. “Good luck on your patrol,” Meade said, addressing Conner. “There’s been no hostile activity reported by any of the patrols in that area. I think you’ll find a pretty simple reason for the disappearance of that mule train in the short distance between Fort Benton and Great Falls. They most likely changed their minds, turned around, and headed back to their homes.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got the whole thing figured out, Harvey,” Conner said. “Might not be any use for us to even go up there, although I heard they had all sold their homes.”

  Meade did not miss the sarcasm in Conner’s reply. He responded with a knowing smile. “At least it’ll give you something to do for a few days. Hawk should be able to find Great Falls for you.” The sarcasm was too obvious to miss, and he paused in case there was a response from the solemn scout. “I was happy to allow his reinstatement as a favor to the major, for this one mission, at least.” He turned to address Hawk at last. “See that you take advantage of this second chance. I don’t make it a rule to grant very many.” He nodded to Conner, turned, and headed for the post headquarters.

  Conner said nothing more, but turned to look at Hawk, who showed no evidence of animosity toward the pompous first lieutenant. It relieved Conner’s mind, for he had been a little concerned that if Meade made it a point to come out and chastise Hawk, the rugged scout might decide to tell him to go to hell. And if he did, that would give Meade reason to fire him again. But that didn’t happen. Hawk didn’t react, so there was nothing for Meade to base any punishment on. “Thanks, Hawk,” Conner said, then told Corporal Johnson to order the men to mount up.

  “Thanks for what?” Hawk asked.

  “You know what,” Conner said.

  Hawk laughed and stepped up into the saddle. “Rascal wanted to answer him. I told him to hold his comments until we got off the parade ground, but he couldn’t resist leaving one little pile of comments.”

  With the men in the saddle, Conner gave the order to march and they left the post, heading to the north, planning to travel with the Big Belt Mountains to their west and make their first night’s camp somewhere along Cottonwood Creek. As the horses settled into the pace, Corporal Johnson pulled up alongside Hawk and commented, “Maybe we’ll get a chance to shoot a deer or two, headin’ up this way. Right, Hawk?”

  Hawk smiled at him. “Might at that,” he answered. Most of the men on the post knew that it was the best duty possible when riding on a patrol commanded by Lieutenant Mathew Conner and scouted by Hawk. Even though grousing with Conner the night before about the work he needed to do to put his cabin in order, Hawk had to admit that it felt good to be in the saddle again, heading out to see what tomorrow held in store.

  CHAPTER 4

  Following the Smith River, north, between the Big Belt Mountains to the west and the Little Belts to the east, it was an uneventful scouting mission during the three and a half days it took to get to Great Falls. Near the north end of the Little Belts at Hound Creek, the patrol frightened a herd of deer as they approached the bank of
the creek. Corporal Johnson was quick to suggest it was an opportunity to supplement their rations. But Conner, knowing their time was short enough to complete their mission as it was, refused permission. Hawk had to laugh at Johnson’s disappointment because there did seem to be deer aplenty.

  At Hawk’s suggestion, they went into camp close to Luther Trotter’s trading post, which was located on the Missouri River at its confluence with the Sun River. Hawk figured if anyone knew anything about the mule train, it would most likely be Luther. So, while the patrol began the process of going into camp, Hawk continued a little farther down the river to the trading post. As often happened, Luther was sitting on the porch in his rocking chair, smoking his pipe.

  “I declare, it’s gettin’ to where you’re comin’ by right regular,” Luther greeted him when Hawk pulled Rascal up at the rail. “If I recollect right, that’s twice in the last six months.”