“That’s right, mister,” Hawkins said with a grin. “I’m real proud to be their commanding officer. And so’s my lieutenant here, aren’t you, Mr. Dooley?”
“Indeed!”
“Let’s get back to business and have these two lodged in your jail,” Hawkins said to the sheriff. He motioned to Sergeant Eagle Heart. He and Corporal Running Cougar dismounted and roughly pulled Capman and Pate out of their saddles. The two prisoners were marched into the building with the sheriff leading the way to the back where the cells were located.
Hawkins retrieved his handcuffs from the prisoners. “We’re on our way to the town of Sawyer,” Hawkins said after the lockup was completed. “I’m not real positive of how to get there.”
“The best way is direct west to Starshine,” Hornsby said. “It seems you’ll have to turn north a bit and hit the Little Dog River, then you’ll find Sawyer which is about another day’s ride. I’d stop at Starshine if I was you and check with the sheriff. He’ll set you on the right trail.”
“We’ll do that,” Hawkins said. “Let’s get down to the telegraph office, and I’ll set things in motion to get you some funds and have a Fed’ral law officer sent to take them two off your hands.”
“The sooner the better,” Sheriff Hornsby said.
The townspeople, still acutely curious, followed the sheriff, army officers and scouts down the street toward the depot, murmuring excitedly among themselves about the U. S. Army allowing Indians to enlist just like white men.
Chapter Sixteen
A well-used road led westward out of Paso Cruz. The earthen route provided comfortable traveling as Captain Mack Hawkins and his detachment rode easily along the route. The only problem was having to avoid the ruts left by countless wagons that had moved across the great expanse of the Texas countryside.
However, after a bit less than five miles, the road began to slowly deteriorate into an even worse state. A couple of places showed where many travelers branched off both north and south as the westward track became little more than marks left by a few animal-drawn vehicles rolling in the direction of New Mexico.
“It doesn’t look like many people cared to turn westward,” Hawkins remarked. “That pretty much shows just how wild and unfriendly things are out there.”
The captain hadn’t failed to notice that Ludlow Dooley had fallen back into sullen silence since Jim Pate’s conversation with Arlo Capman had reminded him about Jim Miller, the man he had killed. Hawkins knew that letting the young officer simmer inside would make matters worse for him.
The captain glanced over at his lieutenant, asking, “Well?”
Ludlow looked back at him, puzzled. “Well, what, sir?”
“Are you planning on visiting the Miller home when we arrive in Sawyer?”
Ludlow looked away. After a moment, he simply shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I thought I might was well bring it up,” Hawkins said. “It’s obvious that you’re doing nothing but brooding about it.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Tell me the truth, Mr. Dooley. Are you planning on visiting Jim Miller’s family in Sawyer or not?”
“I meant it when I said I don’t know,” Dooley replied. “I felt I should give them some money.”
“So you figure you owe them something, hey?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How much money do you have with you, Mr. Dooley?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to look. But I guess that perhaps I have ten dollars.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a wallet. A quick examination showed he had twenty-two dollars. “I’m better off than I expected. I used to get an allowance from my father while I was at West Point, but he probably won’t be sending me money anymore.”
“I see,” Hawkins said. “He figures a second lieutenant’s pay is enough to get by on, huh?” He chuckled. “The heartless man!”
“I suppose,” Ludlow said.
“What do you think you’ll accomplish with twenty-two dollars?” Hawkins inquired. “That’s not much to give to the Widow Miller. It’ll hardly get her through three or four months; never mind the whole winter.”
“I can find out how to send her more. Then I’ll see that she gets some money on a regular basis. I should let her have half my pay, I think.”
“I think not!” Hawkins scolded. “You’re imagining a debt that you don’t have.”
“I know you killed men before,” Ludlow said. “But you haven’t had to deal with their families.”
“The hell if I haven’t. I’ve had more’n one Injun widow stare daggers at me after we’ve brought a tribe onto the reservation. Our fighting with the warriors was personal too. I knew a lot of those Indians enough that we called each other by name. It wasn’t like in the War for Southern Independence where thousands of men lined up and blasted away at each other on a battlefield.”
Ludlow frowned in puzzlement, momentarily forgetting what they were talking about. “Which war was the one for Southern Independence?”
“I think you folks up north call it the Civil War or the War Between the States,” Hawkins answered. “All the folks were Johnny Rebs where I’m from in Missouri, so I’ve heard that side’s opinion of the conflict. They tend to look on it differently than you Yanks.” The captain pulled a cigar out of his tunic and bit off the end. “But let’s get back to the subject of Widow Miller and her kids. Or more important, the obligation you seem to believe you owe ’em.”
“I feel I must do something. It’s as simple as that.”
Hawkins shook his head. “The man is, or was, an enemy of society, young Lieutenant. Miller chose the life he wanted to live. It was a choice that kept him away from his wife and kids. All this while he was making war on decent people. He stole from other folks and I’d bet a year’s pay that he’s caused more’n a coupla women to become widows on his own.”
“His family is innocent,” Ludlow argued.
“Oh, Christ! You’re one of the most sentimental, wishy-washy softies I’ve ever seen. If you’re what West Point is turning out, then the U.S. Army is in one hell of a fix.”
“I never claimed to be a superior example of the academy, sir.”
Hawkins, disgusted, kicked his horse and rode up toward Sergeant Eagle Heart, calling out, “Send a scout forward, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Eagle Heart, who had been listening to the two white men talk, motioned to Tall Bear. The other scout picked up speed in order to range far ahead of the detachment and lead the way.
Sergeant Eagle Heart slowed down enough for Ludlow to catch up with him. “You have trouble in yourself.”
“Yes, I do,” Ludlow said. He was surprised the Indian had spoken to him. The scouts generally didn’t pay much attention to the young lieutenant.
“Why you feel that way?” the scout sergeant asked.
“Because I killed that man.”
“You never killed man before?” the Kiowa asked.
“Of course not!”
“How many winters you got?” Sergeant Eagle Heart asked.
“Winters? Oh! You mean years. I am twenty-one years old.”
The sergeant obliviously didn’t comprehend.
Ludlow opened his left hand four times, then held up one finger. “I have that many winters.”
“You are a man—a warrior—and you are troubled about the dead man’s woman?
“Certainly,” Ludlow said. “Who’s to take care of her and her children?”
Sergeant Eagle Heart shrugged. “If she is pretty, she will soon have another man. If she is ugly, she can move back to the lodge of her father or brother. Or even with husband of her sister. She can lay with him when his wife is with child or has the sickness of the moon.”
Ludlow didn’t know what the scout sergeant was talking about. He responded by saying, “Things are more complicated in our world.”
“I no think so,” Sergeant Eagle Heart declared. “The man you kill, want kill Cap’n Hawkins. What you did was full of hono
r. You should be happy and make up song for that.”
“I’m not very musical.”
Sergeant Eagle Heart was silent for a few minutes. Then he said, “When I had not more winters than you, I went on my first raiding party against Pawnee. Our medicine was strong and our band killed many of the enemy. I, too, killed another man for the first time.”
Ludlow was interested. “How did you feel?”
“It was an honor,” Sergeant Eagle Heart said. “I shot arrows into him. I scalped him. I cut up his legs and cut off his hands and cut off his head so he would suffer and be lame in spirit world.”
“My dear Lord!” Ludlow exclaimed, fully realizing the implications of the custom.
The sergeant was not finished. “Then I went to the Pawnee lodges and find dead man’s woman . I enjoy her to add to my honor.”
“What do you mean you ‘enjoyed’ her?”
“I take off her clothes and throw her down,” Sergeant Eagle Heart explained. “Then I—”
“I understand,” Ludlow interrupted with a flushed face. Such conduct would not even have occurred to the innocent young officer.
“I think when you see dead man’s woman, you maybe enjoy her,” Sergeant Eagle Heart advised. “It will clean your spirit and make your medicine strong.”
“I could never torment a woman,” Ludlow Dooley said.
“Then only one thing for you,” Sergeant Eagle Heart said. “Take her for your wife. Take her children for your own.”
Up ahead, Hawkins looked back. “What about that idea, Mr. Dooley?”
Ludlow, sulking, did not reply.
Now finished with the conversation, Sergeant Eagle Heart urged his horse into a trot and rode up to join the other scouts.
Hawkins came back to his second-in-command. “It appears that Sergeant Eagle Heart was trying to set you straight.”
“He thinks I should have my way with the Widow Miller,” Ludlow said. “Whether I marry her or not.” His face reddened after making the statement. “Actually, I’ve not had my way with any woman in my entire life.”
“It that case, Mr. Dooley, I do not think that raping the Widow Miller would be a good introduction to knowing the gentler sex. I suggest a visit to a whorehouse first.”
“I’m saving myself for my future wife, if you don’t mind,” Ludlow retorted testily.
“I don’t mind. But when you hop in bed and bungle around, I’m sure the future Mrs. Dooley will not approve of your efforts,” Hawkins said with a laugh. “A few visits to the painted ladies now and then will make you a raring, randy and skillful lover, Mr. Dooley. You’ll not only have a satisfied wife, but prob’ly a dozen kids too.”
“Please, sir!”
“If you end up marrying the Widow Miller she’ll be disappointed,” Hawkins went on, “She’s an experienced woman.”
“I don’t appreciate your humor, thank you kindly, sir.”
“Well, carry on in any manner that suits you, Mr. Dooley. You’ll have time to decide what you’ll do. We’ve a ways to go before we bivouac for the night.”
The captain pulled away to ride by himself, and Ludlow fell into silence, now glad to enjoy a bit of solitude. He figured that Sergeant Eagle Heart would be telling the other scouts about their conversation.
The detachment’s trek toward the town of Starshine, Texas went on through the morning. After a brief stop to eat a couple of rabbits that Red Moon had shot, they mounted up and continued across the grassy terrain. The afternoon warmth was markedly increased by a sun baking down on them through a cloudless sky.
When evening eased over the open range, it did so in one of those peaceful periods that occasionally occur on the plains. A few birds flitted through the air on their way to roosts, and not a breeze stirred the sweet smells coming from the prairie grass.
The detachment bedded down alongside a narrow creek fed by a spring some distance away. A mixed grove of cottonwood and redbud trees added to the natural ambience of the bivouac.
The Indians, as usual, went out for a quick hunt. They returned with some plump rabbits that were slowly roasted. The fare was delicious, ending up with a sharing of tobacco. Only Ludlow declined that last bit of pleasure.
Hawkins sensed the young lieutenant was exhausted. The captain knew Ludlow hadn’t slept a wink the night before. Now physical fatigue would overcome even the deep remorse he felt for the Miller family.
“Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins said. “I’m relieving you of duty for tonight. Sergeant Eagle Heart and I will post the guards. You may sleep.”
“I’m not really tired, sir. I can act as officer of the guard.
“Fine then, if that’s the way you feel,” Hawkins said. “Why don’t you relax there against your saddle ‘til it’s time to post the first relief.”
“Yes, sir,” Dooley said. He settled down and rested his head on the leather horse furniture. In less than a minute he had sunk into a deep slumber.
Hawkins, standing with Sergeant Eagle Heart, grinned. “He’s out for the night.”
“Yes,” the sergeant agreed. “He sleep long time.”
The detachment eased into its night routine. Hawkins unrolled Ludlow Dooley’s blankets and spread them over him. As the dark hours settled over the bivouac, the guards rotated their duties until the sun began its climb up from the depths of the eastern horizon.
~*~
That next morning, Ludlow was very embarrassed when they woke him. Even the assurances that everyone felt he deserved a long night’s rest did not make him feel better. The lieutenant rushed through breakfast to make sure he was the first ready to go when they broke camp.
The trek continued until midday before they finally arrived at Starshine. It was a town of nearly five hundred people situated in the heart of wild cattle country that still had yet to feel the full impact of encroaching civilization. Very few farms were evident on the range where herds of cattle bearing several different brands roamed unhindered.
Hawkins went directly to the sheriff’s office to follow the advice he had gotten in Paso Cruz to check the proper directions to the town of Sawyer. The scouts waited while their captain and lieutenant dismounted outside the sheriff’s office. Hawkins led the way in and nodded a greeting to the lawman. “Hello. I’m Cap’n Hawkins and this is Lieutenant Dooley. We’re here to—”
The sheriff interrupted with a smile. “Howdy, gents. I’m Sheriff Tom Coates at your service. I been expecting you.”
“That’s a surprise,” Hawkins said, not quite pleased with the information.
“I just got a telegram from Paso Cruz that you was coming this-a-way,” Sheriff Thompson said. “It was rode over here to me from Big Springs. The sheriff wanted to let you know that the prisoners you had locked up there has escaped.” He pulled out the missive, and read it. “Names of Jim Pate and Arlo Capman to be exact.” He handed the piece of paper to Hawkins.
The captain read the message and expressed his feelings with one word. “Shit!”
Dooley was puzzled. “We can still get the others, can’t we, sir?”
Hawkins shook his head. “Pate and Capman will get to the rest of the gang before we can. The outlaws will scatter to some other part of the state. This patrol is over, Mr. Dooley. It’s a hell of a way for you to begin your career.”
“It certainly is,” Ludlow agreed.
“Well, I’m real sorry to hear it,” Sheriff Coates said. “It’s mighty disappointing to be chasing some jaspers, then have the trail turn cold or things go wrong. No matter how hard you try, you just cain’t get use to it, even if it ain’t you fault. I’ve had trails go cold on me more’n I’d care to admit during the twenty years I been a starpacker.”
“I’m still going to have to prepare a report,” Hawkins said. “Can you give me the approximate location of Sawyer? That’s where we were heading, and the Army likes all the detail possible in its paperwork, so I’ll end this mission over there by asking a few questions.”
“I’ve got a pretty good map made by som
e railroad engineers a few years back,” the sheriff said. “Their plans for laying track across this part of Texas kinda fell apart. I was giving ’em some escort ’cause Mezkin bandidos was acting up in them days. You can have it since I got no use for the thing.” He went over to his desk and pulled the sketch out of a side drawer. He opened it up and spread it out. “This here’s Starshine where we are. You see that river there? It’s the Little Dog. If you go to the northwest you’ll hit it, then foller it south to Sawyer.”
“After thinking it over, I’ve decided not to be going that way after all,” Hawkins said. “But thanks just the same. To tell you the truth, this mission is a lost cause. But I can use the map as an annex to my final report,” Hawkins said. He picked up the sketched chart; folded it, and stuck it inside his tunic. He went outside with Ludlow and the sheriff following.
Hawkins wasted no time in swinging up in the saddle. He nodded to the sheriff. “So long and thanks.”
“You wouldn’t mind telling me how come them Injuns is in uniform, would you?” Sheriff Coates asked. “I got to tell you the truth. They’re the strangest thing I’ve seen in a coon’s age.”
Hawkins, for what seemed the thousandth time, explained the establishment of the U.S. Scouts.
“Well, I for one think it’s a hell of a fine idea,” Coates said. “I hope the next time y’all go out, you have better luck.”
“I sure do too, Sheriff,” Hawkins said. “Thanks for your help.” He motioned to his men to follow him out of town, leading them in an easterly direction.
Chapter Seventeen
The Scout Detachment was close to five miles east of Starshine when Lieutenant Ludlow Dooley kicked his heels against the horse’s flanks and hurried up to a place next to Hawkins at the head of the column.
Ludlow was worried about not being able to compensate Jim Miller’s widow for because the mission had been canceled. He turned to the captain. “Sir? Do you think if I wrote Mrs. Miller a letter and addressed it with her name and the town of Sawyer, Texas she’d receive it?”
“Sure,” Hawkins replied. “But it would take some time. On the other hand, since you’re so all-fired anxious to give your money away, why don’t you just meet her in person when we get there?”
Crossed Arrows (A Long-Knives Western Book 1) Page 14