Crossed Arrows (A Long-Knives Western Book 1)

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “Things are going to be happening to you in the next few days that you’ll remember for the rest of your life,” Hawkins said. He turned to the detachment, ordering, “For’d, yo!”

  Lieutenant Ludlow Dooley struggled up into the saddle and joined his unit.

  ~*~

  Colonel John Bennington took Major Thomas Johnston’s salute as the officer stood in front of his desk. “Sit down, Major.” Somehow he sensed he wasn’t going to like the major’s report on Captain Mack Hawkins.

  “I’ve finished my investigation regarding Hawkins,” Johnston said. “It didn’t take very long to obtain the necessary information. I’ve interviewed a total of six officers and eight sergeants. I also examined the commendations in his record packet. He was cited for bravery in an ambush of a patrol by breaking free and bringing out all the wounded with him. He raided an Apache village with only a half dozen men and captured a renegade war chief. After that he talked the remaining Apaches into following him back to the same reservation they had fled. This action resulted in a peace treaty between the United States and that particular tribe.” Johnston held up some more slips of paper. “All these are citations for bravery under fire.”

  Bennington’s uneasiness increased. “Yes. I see.”

  Johnston continued, “Such citations outnumber his transgressions two or three to one. I’ve not yet made an accurate enough count to determine the exact figure.”

  “I see,” Bennington commented again.

  “I also looked into the alleged illicit affair between Hawkins and Miss Halverson the schoolteacher,” Johnston said as he put the papers back in the packet. “Everyone I talked to describe her as a fine, upstanding young lady with high moral standards. It was also pointed out that Hawkins’s visits to her home have always been during daylight hours and he left long before darkness. After I gave the agent a thorough interrogation, he decided to withdraw his statement regarding Miss Halverson. He couldn’t give me a single example of impropriety on her part. I was confused as to why he was determined to have her dismissed, and when I inquired he just hemmed and hawed. Frankly I think he had an ulterior motive of some sort.”

  Bennington began having dark thoughts about his wife’s babbling.

  “I must say it was most ungentlemanly of you to allow your wife to bring false accusations against Miss Halverson,” Johnston said. He stood up, “And my recommendation will be that Captain Mack Hawkins remain an officer in the United States Army.” He rendered a crisp salute, made an about-face and marched out of the office.

  Bennington seethed in silence for long moments after the major’s departure. Then he got up, grabbed his hat off the rack by the door, and strode out of the headquarters building to give his shrewish wife the telling-off of her life.

  Chapter Ten

  The U.S. Scout detachment’s pursuit, with Corporal Running Cougar to the front, went smoothly and steadily across the wild flat country. The chase could have gone at greater speed, but Hawkins insisted on keeping the pace down to spare the horses. He didn’t want the animals tired out in case they would have to break into extensive galloping either after the bandits or in the opposite direction in the event of a surprise ambush by more numerous attackers.

  Another situation the captain took into consideration was the fact he didn’t know how long the mission would take. They could well be facing a serious shortage of ammunition if things got hot with gunfights such as attacking a strong outlaw lair that provided good cover and plenty of supplies for the defenders.

  Ludlow Dooley’s surge of excitement did not diminish as the patrol continued, and he was enjoying every moment of it. He had dreamed of adventures like this one since boyhood. Now it was truly happening. The young lieutenant hoped a horde of criminals would burst over the distant horizon and charge them so they could engage in a huge battle.

  On the other hand, that thought also caused him some anxiety. Suddenly, in the midst of all his gallant reverie, a question leaped into the young officer’s mind. “Excuse me, sir,” Ludlow said to Hawkins. “Just how many bandits do you estimate there are?”

  “I should have told you. I guess I’m used to working with old soldiers and that’s something we figure out pretty quickly and automatically by studying tracks.”

  “Sorry to be a bother, sir.”

  “Aw, hell! How’re you gonna learn if you don’t ask? I’d say there’s prob’ly about a dozen of ’em that hit the train. With three split off and one dead, we’re chasing around eight or so.”

  “So there’re seven of us against eight at this time,” Ludlow stated. “The odds seem rather even.”

  “Not if they get to their hangout and meet some more friends,” Hawkins pointed out. “In case that happens we could well be up to our necks in outlaws. And I fully expect the gang to come together someplace before this is all said and done.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ludlow said. He now appreciated the risk involved in the patrol action. He decided not to foolishly hope for any potential battles with swarms of criminals.

  Up ahead, Corporal Running Cougar, continuing to lead the detachment, suddenly raised his hand and signaled a halt. The group reined in as he slipped from his saddle and scoured the ground for a bit. After a couple of moments he signaled the others to join him.

  “One horse lost shoe,” he announced. He pointed to the southeast. “Go that way.”

  Hawkins looked at Ludlow. “What do you make of that, Mr. Dooley?”

  “Well, sir, it seems he’s had to leave the others to have his mount tended to. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with them if his horse went lame.”

  “As simple as that?” Hawkins asked. “Don’t you think there’s a bit more to consider in this situation?”

  Ludlow grinned sheepishly. “Probably, sir. But I’m afraid I’m at a complete loss of what you’re talking about. I’m certain there is more to take into consideration than I can fathom.”

  “That’s right, there is. If you look around, you’ll see we’re in open country with nothing in sight for miles. But that man whose horse threw a shoe, knows exactly which direction to go to get the help he needs.”

  “Ah, yes!” Ludlow exclaimed. “I understand now, sir. Since he is familiar with this area, he undoubtedly has friends where he is going. Or at least knows of a place where he can have his horse tended to.”

  “Exactly, Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins said. “We could find ourselves not only facing him but some of his pards. Maybe even relatives if this son of a bitch has kinfolk nearby. That would be a particularly dangerous situation. But the main question is, should we ignore him and get back to trailing the main group?”

  “That seems the thing to do.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not,” Hawkins said. “We’re going after this one bandit.”

  “But why, sir? I doubt very much if he has the money with him. The others certainly wouldn’t leave the loot to be tended by someone with a lame horse.”

  “But we can have a chat with him,” Hawkins said. “And persuade him to tell us a few things about himself and his friends. Maybe even where the gang is headed, who bossed this robbery, and other useful bits of information. That would make us forearmed about whatever it is we’re gonna face when we catch up with the bastards.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “What we learn could mean the difference between accomplishing the mission and failing,” Hawkins said. Then he added, “Or living and dying.”

  “Well appreciated, sir.”

  Hawkins signaled to Corporal Running Cougar. “Take off after the lame horse. But be careful.”

  “Yes, sir,” Running Cougar said. He remounted and led the detachment on this new spoor toward the southeast. Hawkins ordered Red Moon and Swift Horse out on the flanks to increase their ability to observes the surroundings where the patrol’s route would now take them. It would also increase their security from possible ambushes or surprise encounters.

  Another hour of careful tracking was marked with a beautiful
red sunset sweeping the western sky, as the shadows of the buffalo grass and mesquite spread long across the prairie ground. Hawkins emitted a clicking sound that was remarkably close to that made by crickets.

  Corporal Running Cougar easily heard the noise. The Comanche reined in and looked back. Hawkins pointed to a grass draw and turned toward it with the rest of the detachment following. The corporal joined them and everyone dismounted.

  “We’ll camp in here and leave at first light in the morning,” Hawkins ordered. “One guard relieved every couple of hours should carry us through to first call.” He glanced at Ludlow. “It’s gonna be up to us to post the sentries, Mr. Dooley. We’ll have to be the corporals of the guard because our troops here don’t have watches and even if they did, they don’t know how to tell time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How’re you at waking yourself up?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very good at it, sir,” Ludlow said. “I have a tendency to oversleep.”

  “That’s something you’ll have to get over. And this is a good time for you to learn. Spread your blankets next to me. I’ll nudge you ever’ two hours and you can wake up the new guard and take him to relieve the old.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ludlow replied, regretting that his lack of self-discipline was showing.

  “Tall Bear goes first, then Swift Horse, Red Moon and finally Corporal Running Cougar.”

  “You forgot me,” Sergeant Eagle Heart said.

  “No I didn’t,” Hawkins replied. “You’re a sergeant so you don’t walk guard. As a matter of fact, Running Cougar being a corporal shouldn’t either. But where you’re short of men, you have to put rank aside sometimes.”

  “You wake me up with Mr. Dooley,” Eagle Heart said. “I help then.”

  “You bet, Sergeant,” Hawkins said. He raised his voice just enough for all to hear. “We’re having a cold camp, understand? There’s nothing but green wood around here, so that means no fire. We don’t want any smoke to give us away.” He looked at Ludlow. “I said that for your benefit, Mr. Dooley.” He turned his eyes to the scouts. “You poor fellers are gonna have to eat the same thing as the lieutenant and me. Salt pork without heating. Since there won’t be any hot coffee to soften the hardtack, we won’t be eating any of it.”

  “Pretty bad,” Eagle Heart said. “Too bad no buffalo to hunt. Raw buffalo liver is good.”

  Hawkins shrugged with a grimace. “Real sorry, Sergeant. Let’s all settle in now.”

  Ludlow felt a bit like a veteran as he pulled the saddle and gear from his horse. Living in the bivouac back at the Kiowa-Comanche Agency had been an unexpected blessing. It really wasn’t that much different than being in the field. Not sleeping in a comfortable barracks like he’d grown used to at West Point was no longer an inconvenience. He took such a situation for granted now. The only different between where they camped and the bivouac was that he would sleep on the ground instead of a cot . But he still wrapped up in the same blankets. In a remarkably short time, the young officer had arranged his sleeping area for the night.

  Chewing on cold salt pork, however, was another thing altogether. It tasted bad enough when roasted, but eating a hunk of the uncooked stuff required a lot of hard jaw work. All seven men sat in silence as they worked at chewing and swallowing the salty, stringy meat. By the time the ordeal was over, a deep darkness had settled over the prairie. Within moments a full moon slid out from the clouds and shed what was near daylight over the scene.

  Ludlow looked up and saw the widest, most starlit scene he had ever seen in his entire life. Hawkins noticed the young officer staring skyward. “The Great American Prairie sky,” the captain explained.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever seen it,” Ludlow said. He was beginning to get tired of having things pointed out and explained for him, but he recognized the necessity. He had a lot to learn, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a few initiatives on his own. He pulled out his pocket watch and noted it was nine o’clock. He glanced at Eagle Heart. “Time for guard duty.”

  Eagle Heart said a few words to Tall Bear in the patois language the Kiowas and Comanches used when communicating among themselves. Without speaking, the scout got to his feet and went up to the edge of the knoll to begin his stint as sentry.

  The rest of the detachment spent another hour in quiet small talk. The Indians said little, mostly listening to the two white officers chatting. After a while, they all settled in for a night that was going to be filled with numerous interruptions in sleep. Hawkins, Ludlow and Eagle Heart stretched out side by side while Running Cougar, Swift Horse, and Red Moon found spots they chose as individuals.

  Ludlow settled into his blanket, and placed his watch where he could readily see it in the bright moonlight. There was only a half hour to go before Swift Horse had to relieve Tall Bear at guard. The young officer now was determined that he wouldn’t allow the situation to deteriorate to a point where Captain Hawkins would have to wake him even once to post the guard. Ludlow fought to stay awake, but he dropped off. He awoke with a start, checked the watch, and noted he’d only dozed for twenty minutes. When the time was right, he slid out of his blanket and walked over to Swift Horse.

  The scout knew what the lieutenant wanted. He was still dressed and reclining on top of his spread bedroll. All he had to do was get up and go to the guard post to relieve Tall Bear. Ludlow returned to his own place and turned in again.

  The lieutenant felt Hawkins shaking him. Angry at himself for drifting off, he immediately sat up and looked around. The campsite was quiet and Hawkins was asleep, breathing deeply. A look at the watch showed it to be midnight. Ludlow realized the captain hadn’t awakened him at all. He had dreamed the incident. Smiling, he lay back down and soon drifted back to sleep.

  Ludlow was up again at ten minutes before one. He once again left the warmth of his blankets, this time to shake Red Moon. The scout came awake in an instant, and wordlessly pulled on his boots. Ludlow waited and walked with him to the guard post. Swift Horse grunted a greeting to them, and he and Ludlow returned to their blankets. Ludlow glanced over and saw that Captain Hawkins and Sergeant Eagle Heart were fast asleep.

  Two hours later, and right on schedule, Running Cougar was also awakened by the lieutenant in time to stand his portion of guard duty. Yawning and tired, Ludlow and Red Moon returned to their bedrolls. Ludlow lay down then raised up and took another look at his commanding officer and the detachment’s sergeant. They slept like babies.

  Ludlow growled aloud to himself as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. “It’s a good thing I’m looking after the guard roster.”

  “It certainly is, Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins said.

  “Good job,” came Sergeant Eagle Heart’s comment.

  Ludlow felt his face redden. “Sorry.”

  “Now you can sleep uninterrupted until dawn,” Hawkins said. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dooley, your duty is done for the rest of the night.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Good night, sir.”

  Ludlow closed his eyes. Hawkins shook him and he looked up into the captain’s face, puzzled at what he might want. It was close to daylight and Running Cougar, back from his post, was waking up the other scouts. The lieutenant sat up and looked around. “You mean I’ve been asleep for two hours?” he asked, throwing his blankets back.

  “You sure have, Mr. Dooley,” the captain said. He handed him a piece of salt pork. “Breakfast is served.”

  Ludlow took the hunk of meat. “Thank you, sir.” He bit into it as he pulled on his boots. “I assume we’ll be pressing on after the lame horse.”

  “You bet,” Hawkins said. “Just as quick as we can.”

  The lieutenant began to prepare his bedroll, remembering to tie it tight as the captain had taught him. Between bites of the salt pork he saddled his mount and properly loaded his gear. After the final swallow of the meat, he took a swig of water from his canteen. The drink, still cool from the night air, was delicious.

  “You
did a good job last night, Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins said.

  “I wanted to pull my load, sir.”

  “Like I told you, I never went to West Point,” Hawkins said. “I never thought I’d regret that, but sometimes I do. That’s because I’ve noticed the officers out of the academy are dedicated and ready for whatever comes their way.”

  “I may be the one exception,” Ludlow remarked.

  “No you’re not, Mr. Dooley. Last night showed that a lot of that training and education they gave you rubbed off. You wanted to do your share of the work without being pushed and pulled around like a three-year-old kid.”

  “Yes, sir. I did.”

  “You accomplished your mission, Mr. Dooley. You said you oversleep a lot. Maybe that was because somebody was always around to wake you up. But when you were out in the field with no bugler sounding reveille, you made yourself do the job. Maybe your weren’t the best cadet West Point ever graduated, but what they put into you is still strong. What’s that motto at the academy?”

  “Duty, Honor, Country, sir.”

  “Right,” Hawkins said. “It looks like the duty part was rubbed deep into you.” He looked around, seeing the scouts were ready to ride. “Let’s get this detachment on the move. This may be another big day for you in a different way.”

  “How’s that, sir?”

  “You might receive your baptism of fire.”

  Ludlow went over to his horse and stuck his foot in the stirrup. He pulled himself into the saddle with a feeling of acute nervousness in his belly. Perhaps one of those moments of truth he had envisioned for himself was closer at hand than he had realized. Ludlow swallowed hard and spoke under his breath, “Duty, Honor, Country.”

  Strangely enough, the motto seemed more meaningful out there in the wilderness than it did on the Plain at West Point.

  Chapter Eleven

  A slightly gusty breeze disturbed the tall grass on the knoll where Captain Mack Hawkins and Second Lieutenant Ludlow Dooley lay prone in the cover of the natural flora. Both peered intently through their field glasses at the object of their combined attention.