Rocky Mountain Warpath (A Crossed Arrows Western Book 1)

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “At Campbell’s Trading Post,” Hawkins answered.

  “I been there once,” Jesse Kuch announced. “It’s a perty good walk from here.”

  “It sure as hell is,” Hawkins agreed.

  The woman began pulling the hide off the rabbit. “George Leroux is a real strange sort of feller.”

  “He comes and goes kinda like a breeze,” Jesse remarked.

  Ezra nodded. “He don’t act much like a trapper or a hunter.”

  “Well, it’s been nice talking with you folks,” Hawkins said. “We got to keep moving ‘til dark.”

  “Good luck on finding Leroux,” Ezra Kuch said.

  The detachment left the clearing and re-entered the woods. Hawkins joined Ludlow and Red Moon. The scout went farther forward on point while the officers chatted. “What’s your opinion of George Leroux now, Mr. Dooley?”

  “I must admit I agree with those people back there. I haven’t a lot of confidence in him, sir. And I’m particularly interested in those men traveling with him.” He paused a moment. “Do you think they were the ones who attacked us?

  “I’ve got some pretty strong suspicions they were,” Hawkins speculated. “There’s a strong possibility that Leroux led us to that creek so we’d be attacked.”

  “That occurred to me too, sir.”

  “That really complicates things,” Hawkins said. “We might be up against a more dangerous enemy than some mountain men that don’t like railroads.”

  “Without a doubt there’s a complex conspiracy some place in this situation.”

  “We’ve jawed enough about this,” Hawkins said. “We’ll stop and make camp while it’s still daylight. I want to be able to set up a secure bivouac rather than stumble around in the dark.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Captain Mack Hawkins didn’t order the detachment to break camp immediately after breakfast the next morning. Instead, he took Tall Bear and Swift Horse with him for a scouting foray around the vicinity of the site where they’d spent the night. They were gone for two hours before returning to the bivouac.

  “There’s sign of several men having moved through here recently,” Hawkins told Ludlow and the assembled scouts. “I’m pretty sure it was George Leroux and his pals.”

  Sergeant Eagle Heart found that interesting. “Maybe we follow trail.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ll make our column formation a little different now. Red Moon and I are going on point. Then you, Swift Horse, and Tall Bear with the mule, will follow us. Lieutenant Dooley and Corporal Running Cougar will bring up the rear. Each following group will stay back as far as possible without losing sight of the one to their front. It’s important not to bunch up, but we don’t want to get spread out too far either. If an ambush is sprung on us, we’ll have to muster as much concentrated firepower as we possibly can. We can’t do that if we’re spread out from here to Timbuktu.”

  Ludlow asked, “No doubt you are expecting trouble, sir.”

  “I’m not only expecting it, I’m looking for a fight,” Hawkins replied. “Let’s make a last minute check of our gear, then move out.”

  Hawkins and Red Moon followed the trail they had discovered, both noting that their quarry were making no effort to hide their tracks. The captain knew that indicated one of two circumstances; either Leroux and his cohorts figured that the army detachment had abandoned the mission; or Hawkins, Ludlow and the scouts would try to catch up with them. In the latter case, it meant the bushwhackers would spring an ambush at a site advantageous to them.

  The meant the situation was now exceedingly dangerous. Thus, officers and scouts did not rush as they made their way through the mountainous woodland. They halted several times and explored the vicinity around the various locations to see if Leroux’s gang might have doubled back on them. It was a tedious, tiring process. The natural screen of the dense forest did not make things easier.

  It was Red Moon who sighted the man in buckskin kneeling behind a pile of deadfall a few yards to their left. What had attracted the scout’s attention to the spot was the phony look of dead limbs that had been piled up for concealment. It looked too well stacked, unlike the helter-skelter way of nature. He grabbed Hawkins’ arm and whispered his find in the captain’s ear.

  Hawkins signaled a halt, and took a drink from his canteen. At the same time he pointed toward the man with a slight nod of his head. Ludlow and the others spotted him but gave him no indication they were aware of his presence. Hawkins went forward alone a few yards, then circled back to a position behind the hiding place. He had to walk slow to avoid revealing himself until he reached a spot directly behind the stranger.

  “Don’t move!”

  The man did move however, and turned around to see the army officer aiming a revolver straight at him. He was a rugged mountaineer, full bearded and lean with a face that showed an angry frown. If he was startled or scared he gave no indication of it.

  Hawkins locked eyes with him. “Lower that rifle to the ground real slow — I say again — real slow!” The man obeyed, and the captain recognized the weapon as a Remington rolling block. It proved the man had set himself up at that spot as a sniper. Hawkins picked up the rifle and pointed in the direction of the column. “Get on your feet, turn around and walk that way.”

  The detachment stayed in position, maintaining their fields of fire as the prisoner approached with Hawkins behind him. Ludlow got to his feet and walked over. “Sir, there’s a rise in the terrain to the north. It looks like a good place to hold up for a while.”

  “Good idea, Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins replied. “I think this fellow’s pals are gonna come looking for him. And it’ll prob’ly be sooner than later.”

  The captain and his prisoner walked over to where the scouts waited. Sergeant Eagle Heart pulled some rawhide cords from his haversack and tied the man’s hands behind him. With that done, he grabbed the captive’s arms as the detachment walked through the trees and up the knoll. Tall Bear followed, leading the mule.

  The higher ground was twelve or so feet above the surrounding terrain and small enough to allow the scouts to arrange themselves to cover a full 360 degrees without having to spread out too far. The brush, tall grass and trees offered excellent cover. Tall Bear found a good place to picket the mule where the animal would be safe and out of sight.

  Hawkins and Ludlow led the prisoner to a spot at the center of the hill. The captain grabbed the man’s collar and roughly pushed him down to the ground. He smiled at him. “Howdy.”

  The man made no effort to reply.

  “What’s your name?”

  The prisoner replied, “DuBois.”

  “You must be one of them Métis, huh?”

  DuBois said nothing.

  “So why were you doing squatting down behind that stack of deadfall?”

  “I hunt. What the hell you think I do?” He spoke with an accent similar to Leroux’s. “I chasseur — hunter — that what I am.”

  Hawkins grinned. “The way you talk proves you’re Métis.” He changed his expression to a fierce frown.” I’m thinking you and George Leroux and your pals thought we prob’ly went back to Campbell’s Trading Post after that quick shootout the other day. But you wanted to make sure.”

  DuBois stayed mum.

  “And I’m sure that as soon as we approached, you would have shot our point man to bring us to a halt. With that done, you would’ve pulled back to let your pals know we were following after ’em.”

  DuBois’ silence continued.

  “How long were your pals gonna wait before coming back to check things out?”

  DuBois gritted his teeth and took a few deep breaths, but said nothing.

  “How long has it been, DuBois?” Hawkins asked.

  The prisoner remained mute.

  Hawkins held up the Remington rolling block rifle. “Where’d you get this?”

  “I buy it.”

  “These are mighty expensive weapons. Where’d you get the mone
y?”

  Dubois fell back into silence.

  Hawkins nodded to Ludlow. “Go check the scouts. Make sure they’ve got their ammunition within easy reach. There’s gonna be one hell a fracas as soon as DuBois’ pals find out he’s missing.”

  Ludlow hurried off to tend to the task.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Everyone in the detachment was in his assigned position along the defensive line. Eagle Heart, Tall Bear and Swift Horse were on the north and east. Hawkins set himself up to help wherever needed in the tight perimeter. Running Cougar and Red Moon were situated on the west and south where the cover and concealment were the heaviest. Ludlow was just to the rear of their positions, ready to jump in and lend a hand when necessary.

  Once more it was Red Moon who first sighted the enemy. He caught a glimpse of a fringed buckskin shirt, and immediately squeezed the trigger of his carbine. The scout was rewarded with a yell and the sight of a man’s body collapsing between two trees.

  A rattle of carbine fire sounded on the south side of the hill, and bullets smacked the bark off trees and leaves off brush but inflicted no casualties. The scouts, now having instinctively adapted to fighting in areas crowded with vegetation, took their time in aiming and returning fire.

  A trio of attackers suddenly made a rash short dash across an open space on the east side. Bad idea. Hawkins dropped one with a quick shot from his revolver and the survivors stumbled back into the trees.

  Ludlow moved over to the captain. “Sir! Have you noticed those fellows out there aren’t making coordinated assaults?”

  Hawkins gave an affirmative nod. “Indeed, Mr. Dooley. We are obviously not under attack by trained soldiers.”

  “It makes one think,” Ludlow speculated. “What if you and I waited until the next time they charge, then turn to that side of the battle line and let loose a few shots from our revolvers .”

  Hawkins liked the idea. “Yeah. And that would — ”

  His remarks were cut off by some shots that were aimed at Running Cougar and Red Moon on the west. It took only a few quick steps for the officers to reach that place and squeeze off three rounds each.

  “Merde!” came a cry from the bottom of the hill.

  Hawkins chortled. “It seems that tactic worked.”

  Over on the east, Eagle Heart and Tall Bear each began firing as fast as they could with their single shot carbines. Hawkins and Ludlow joined them and added their efforts to the volleys.

  Now everyone in the detachment strained their eyes in the direction of the enemy, waiting for the next moves. Nerves were taut as the adrenalin coursed through their veins in angry pulsations.

  Fifteen minutes went by with no further sounds from below.

  Hawkins and Ludlow exchanged glances. The lieutenant said, “I volunteer to go down for a reconnaissance, sir.”

  “Let’s give it another half hour.”

  Ludlow shrugged. “It’s certain there weren’t a lot of them to begin with.”

  “I say again; let’s give it another half hour.”

  The ambiance of the defensive line slowly calmed as the minutes passed. After the half hour came and went, Hawkins signaled to Eagle Heart. The sergeant joined him. “What you think, Cap’n?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m letting Lieutenant Dooley check things out below. Send Swift Horse with him for cover.”

  Within five minutes, with all extra gear taken off, Dooley led the way with Swift Horse close behind. As the two men disappeared into the brush, the tension among the others began climbing again. Not a sound reached the hilltop for forty minutes, until a shout from Ludlow was heard.

  “All clear! We’re coming up!” The Lieutenant and Swift Horse came into view and joined the others. “There’s four dead down there, sir. We must’ve shaken them up pretty badly if they abandoned the corpses.”

  Hawkins turned to DuBois. “Did you hear that?”

  The man, sitting on the ground, remained mute.

  “Okay. You and me are gonna have a little talk. There’s some things I have to know and I don’t want any bullshit.”

  Swift Horse went back to the other scouts while Ludlow joined his commanding officer in front of the prisoner. Hawkins cut the bonds holding DuBois’s wrists, then sat down beside him. He pulled out two cigars, giving one to the prisoner, lighting both.

  The captain slowly exhaled smoke. “Now ain’t this nice and friendly?”

  DuBois puffed on the stogie.

  Hawkins smiled. “Let’s start by chatting about shooting at railroad workers.”

  “I not know nothing of that.”

  Ludlow quickly interjected. “You don’t know anything about what?”

  “’bout them géomètres,” DuBois snapped back at him. “Them surveyors.”

  Hawkins, with a leer on his face, leaned toward the prisoner. “How’d you know they were surveyors?”

  “You say this.”

  “No I didn’t, you dumb bastard! I called ’em railroad workers. And now I’m really riled!”

  DuBois swallowed hard with obvious nervousness.

  Hawkins growled, “Now looky here, goddam it! If you think I’m gonna waste rations by taking you back with us, you’re making a sad mistake. And since I’m a most kindly person who wouldn’t want to watch you starve to death over a couple of weeks, I’ll just bash in your skull with the butt of my carbine. It’ll probably take a half dozen whacks. That way I won’t have to look at you dying in agony for much more’n an hour or two.”

  The prisoner’s face paled, but he spoke in a determined voice. “You son of bitch!”

  At that instant both army officers realized there was more to the man than stubborn grit. Now they knew there had to be a serious motivation for his defiance. Perhaps it was a cause he was willing to die for.

  Hawkins motioned to Sergeant Eagle Heart to keep an eye on the captive, then he took Ludlow by the arm and led him off to one side. The captain was concerned and making no secret of it. “There’s something really bizarre going on where he and his pals are concerned, Mr. Dooley.”

  “I agree, sir. And he’ll sacrifice his life for it.”

  The captain sank into contemplative mood for a few long moments as Ludlow waited for him to speak. Finally, Hawkins looked at his second in command. “Godamn it! I hate to do this!”

  “Do what, sir?” Ludlow asked, a bit alarmed.

  “I hate having to go back to Fort Terral, Mr. Dooley. It won’t do a bit of good to stay out here in the woods.” He gritted his teeth. “Godamn it to hell! I shouldn’t have trusted that son of a bitch Leroux! On account of him we got to break off and go back!”

  Ludlow knew his commanding officer well. He waited quietly until the captain calmed down.

  Hawkins’ anger subsided as quickly as it had sprung up. “We need to do one of two things; either call off this operation or get the extra support needed to complete it. And we’ll only find that back at the garrison.”

  “Sir, I do believe you something definite in mind.”

  “You goddam right I do, Mr. Dooley. Let’s make ready for the return trip.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  When the Kiowa-Comanche Scout Detachment reentered the site of Campbell’s Trading Post, they were in a loose formation with the prisoner DuBois in their midst. Captain Mack Hawkins wasn’t sure if the rawhide-bound captive had any friends in the vicinity or not, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He had ordered everyone to have rounds chambered in their carbines and be ready for trouble.

  The local populace turned their full attention to the returnees and acknowledged them with the usual affable salutations, noting their ragged appearances. When they caught sight of the prisoner, there were looks of curiosity and some finger-pointing, but no hostile glares.

  Hawkins was relieved there would be no difficulties. He led the way to the trading post and took Ludlow inside with him, leaving the scouts and DuBois out front. A few people came over to gaze at the captive, but none seemed to know who h
e was. After a few moments they lost interest and wandered back to their usual daily activities and chores.

  Philip Morgan in the trading post was leaning against the counter, conversing with a couple of trappers who had come in to purchase an assortment of traps for the coming winter. When Morgan sighted the two army officers, he excused himself and walked over with a big grin on his face.

  “Welcome back!” he exclaimed, offering his hand. “How did everything go?”

  Hawkins scowled. “That son of a bitch Leroux led us into a couple of ambushes. That’s how everything went!”

  Morgan’s smile faded. “I’ll be damned!”

  Ludlow’s face also showed anger. “How well did you know him?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Not well. He had a reputation for being shady when it came to gambling and trading, but as far as I know he never tried to kill nobody.”

  “Evidently he’s tied in with those bastards who want to stop the railroad survey,” Hawkins snapped.

  Morgan’s shock at the revelation was genuine. “I didn’t have no idea about nothing like that. The folks around these parts want that railroad. It’s like life’s blood to the trappers. They’ll be able to flag down a train anywhere along the Gap to catch a ride. It’ll save ’em days of walking to reach here and sell their furs.”

  Hawkins went over to the door and signaled to Sergeant Eagle Heart. The scout came in, pushing DuBois in front of him. The captain turned to Morgan. “Do you know this fellah?”

  Morgan scrutinized the prisoner. “Nope. Never seen him before in my whole life.”

  “We caught him eyeing us with a Remington rolling block,” Hawkins informed the storekeeper. “And I’ll bet he’s fired a few rounds of those smokeless powder bullets at the surveyors. Meaning he prob’ly killed a few.”

  “I’ve sold a lot of that ammunition to Leroux. And also to that feller that was here the first time you showed up. Maybe they’re in cahoots.” He nodded toward the prisoner. “What does he say about it?”