Lone Jack Kid: The Buffalo Hunt (The Lone Jack Kid Book 3)

by Joe Corso

  Charlie placed his hand on Ban-Chu’s head and pointed at the man. “Attack, Ban-Chu, attack.”

  The wolf took off as if he was shot from a cannon and quickly caught up to his prey. The wolf leaped on him, and he lost his footing and stumbled to the ground. When he turned to get up, the wolf hovered over him snarling, his fangs showing. The man dared not move. Charlie bounded over and patted his wolf affectionately on the side of his face. “Good boy, Ban-Chu.”

  The terrified man screamed.

  “Get him off of me. I’ll come with you; just get him off of me.”

  Warren Bates pushed his way through the crowd. “I heard gunfire. What happened here?”

  “They challenged the Kid here,” one of the spectators informed the newly appointed sheriff.

  “He tried to talk that one lying dead in the street not to fight him, but he wouldn’t listen. The other guy was shot by the Indian when he tried to back shoot the Lone Jack Kid.”

  Charlie removed the dead men’s billfolds, then he put his hand out for the third man to give him his billfold.

  “Put this one in the cell with his friend. I’ll keep the wallets and when I get to El Paso, I’ll check the wanted posters.”

  The big blacksmith, now the sheriff, asked, “Why don’t you take the men with you to El Paso and sequester them in their jail?”

  Charlie laughed. “Are you kidding? There’s really no law there. If I put these two men in the El Paso jail, they’d be out before daybreak. No, it’s better if someone from Yuma picks them up and gets them to stand trial there. Unless a traveling judge wanders through Horse Head Crossing who could give the men a fair trial and issue them just sentences.”

  Bates shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. Do what you said you’d do and have someone come back here to pick these two up. You’d be doing us a big favor.”

  “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. Good luck with your new job, Sheriff.”

  Chapter 5

  The two men forded the river just before daybreak.

  “How do you want to travel, Wild Eagle? Stay on the old stage route or take a different trail?”

  “My people tell me of old game trail not far from here. I never take trail myself, but if you like, we can try.”

  Charlie thought for a moment.

  “It’s about four or five hundred miles to El Paso. If we travel thirty miles a day, we should get there in a couple of weeks. Quicker if we can travel thirty-five or forty miles a day.”

  “Can do, but why in such a hurry? Travel far in one day, horses get tired. May need horses if trouble comes. Better for horses if we take time and travel thirty miles a day.”

  There was no way of knowing exactly how many miles a day they traveled, but Wild Eagle had an uncanny sense of when to call it a day and he always managed to find a good location to stop to make camp. Charlie was glad he was traveling on a southern route instead of heading north. It was the end of October and it would be freezing up north. They’d have to buy winter clothing. They’d do that when they reached San Diego before the January second deadline approached. At the moment, Charlie knew he had plenty of time before the grand duke arrived. He just hoped that trouble, which could cause a delay, didn’t rear its ugly head.

  Wild Eagle moved his pony closer to Charlie’s horse.

  “You do good back there. Kill men and show no fear. Wild Eagle glad Charlie is his blood brother. You fine warrior, Charlie.”

  “Well, thank you, Wild Eagle. Coming from you, that means a lot to me.”

  After his talk with Charlie, Wild Eagle, who never said much, was silent for most of the day.

  Eight days on the road brought them about two or three days from El Paso.

  “Trail end here. Must take stage road now.”

  They tugged their reins to the left, led the horses and burro onto the old Butterfield stage route, and loped along at a leisurely pace for another hour before Wild Eagle reined up and sniffed the air.

  “Leave road quick.”

  The Indian pulled the reins on his pony and skittered into the brush with Charlie following. He whispered to Wild Eagle, “What’s wrong?”

  “Indians coming. Maybe Apache or Comanche. They kill us if they see us. Better we wait here until they pass.”

  Charlie got off his horse with Wild Eagle doing the same and they slowly approached the road, taking refuge behind thick brambles, making sure they were well hidden. Charlie counted eight Indians approaching them on horseback.

  “Look, Apache,” Wild Eagle said.

  “Yeah, they’re leading two horses. One is saddled and they have a little girl with them. Must have killed her parents and taken the little girl to give to one of their braves. I just hope they don’t use her now. She’s nothing more than a child, for God’s sake.”

  Charlie furrowed his brow and looked at Wild Eagle. “Do you want to try out your new Winchester repeating rifle to see how good it shoots, Wild Eagle?”

  “Already tried it in Horse Head Crossing.”

  “You can’t call firing one shot trying out your rifle. You have to fire all fifteen rounds and empty your rifle in order to appreciate it. What do you say we follow these Apache and steal the little girl back from them?”

  Wild Eagle frowned. “Foolish move. Apache fierce warriors. Let Apache have girl and we go.”

  “I can’t do that, partner. I can’t let those Apache harm that little girl. I understand if you don’t want to come with me. Wait here and I’ll get her.”

  Wild Eagle stood. “You go, then I go with you. We die, we die together, we live, we live together. I have pretty squaw in my wigwam, so not good if I die. Come; we go and kill all those Apache.” The Indian smiled. “Besides, Apache is enemy of the Kaw. We go kill Apache now.”

  “Since you’re with me, if we’re lucky, we’ll rescue the girl. Then we’ll try to find out what happened to her family. Although I have to assume they’re dead.”

  Wild Eagle grunted. “Apache kill everyone. No leave anyone alive but girl. They use girl; that why they not kill her.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to let that happen.”

  They followed the Apache’s trail until the tracks indicated that the Indians led their tired ponies off the trail and into the thick brush that covered an old, narrow animal trail. Charlie and Wild Eagle led their horses onto the narrow trail and followed the tracks.

  “Apache use this trail many times. Look, many horses, no shoes. Indian ponies. They make camp not far from here, make fire. Smell meat cooking. We leave horses and walk to Apache camp.”

  Both men lay prone and crawled along the trail, careful not to make a sound. Charlie thought the Indians might have left a man on watch, but Wild Eagle didn’t think so. The braves would feel safe in the assumption that they killed whoever would be following them. It made sense to Charlie, but he was taking no chances and he acted as if an Indian was standing watch. Wild Eagle led the way, crawling about fifty feet along the trail until putting his hand out to stop Charlie.

  “Apache braves in front of us. Girl tied to tree.” Wild Eagle leaned close to Charlie. “How you want to do this, Charlie?”

  Charlie’s voice could hardly be heard as he whispered in his friend’s ear. “We go in shooting and we kill all eight Apache before they have a chance to react. Lever your rifle and start shooting as soon as you see them, and make all your shots count.”

  Wild Eagle chuckled and Charlie felt a little silly. This wasn’t the first party his blood brother had attended and here he was treating him like a novice.

  “Sorry about that, Wild Eagle. I didn’t mean to tell you your business.”

  “We go now,” Wild Eagle said. “You make sure you make every shot count.”

  Charlie laughed at Wild Eagle’s comeback.

  “All right, all right,” he whispered. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

  Wild Eagle rose to a crouch, pushed through the scrubby pines, and rushed directly into the startled Apache camp, firing as he ran.
Charlie was right behind him, firing at anything that moved. Within a few short heartbeats, all eight Apache braves lay dead on the ground.

  Wild Eagle looked at his Winchester prototype and smiled. “Good rifle, Charlie. I like.”

  Charlie didn’t answer. Instead, he rushed over to the frightened little girl and quickly cut her free. She leaped into his arms, holding him tight. Charlie allowed her time to calm down. Just as he was about to put her down, she spoke in a low voice.

  “I was so scared. They were bad men. They killed my parents and they kidnapped me and I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared.” The little girl was trembling, shaking with fear. “Please don’t leave me, please.”

  Charlie felt tears welling up but refused to show weakness in front of the little girl or Wild Eagle. “Don’t worry, little sister, I won’t leave you, and I promise that no one will hurt you while you’re with me.”

  She noticed Wild Eagle for the first time and pulled herself tighter to Charlie. “There’s an Indian behind you and he has a gun.”

  “That’s my friend, Wild Eagle, and he’s a friendly Indian. He hates the Apache too, so don’t be afraid of him.”

  Charlie put the little girl down and kneeled in front of her.

  “What’s your name, little sister, and how old are you?”

  “My name is Marsha Sullivan and I’m seven years old.”

  Charlie looked her up and down. “My, but you’re a big girl for only seven years old. Are you big enough to ride a horse?”

  She nodded as tears began to spill down her cheeks. “My daddy taught me to ride but… but I need a saddle.”

  “Well, in that case, we’ll have to get you a saddle, won’t we?”

  She smiled for the first time. “If you can get me a horse and a saddle, it would be very nice of you.”

  “Little sister, the Apache led a saddled horse here. Do you want to ride that horse?”

  She shook her head. “He’s too big for me.”

  “Well, let’s check the Apache horses and see if we can find one you like.”

  Charlie held the little girl’s hand as they looked through the eight Apache ponies, hoping to find one she liked. Finally, she pointed to one.

  “That one. He’s pretty and he looks friendly. Look at the way he’s looking at me. I think he likes me.”

  “I do too. Okay, then, he’s yours. What name are you going to give him?”

  “Well, he’s mostly white like a marshmallow, so that’s what I’m going to call him. Marshmallow.”

  Charlie took the saddle from her father’s horse and put it on Marshmallow, who wasn’t used to wearing a saddle. The horse snorted.

  “Well, your horse is saddled, Marsha.”

  He lifted her onto her horse and looked up at her.

  “When we get to the main road, do you think you could show us where you were when the Indians attacked you?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good girl.”

  Chapter 6

  The little group rode east for about four miles until Wild Eagle pointed up ahead. “There is where Apache kill family and take girl.”

  Charlie was always amazed at the way Wild Eagle noticed things before they became apparent.

  As they approached the scene, Charlie asked Marsha to remain on the road while he examined what had happened. Not wanting to see her murdered parents, the little girl remained on her horse and did as Charlie asked. A wagon stripped of everything stood as a mute reminder of what had happened here. A man who appeared to be in his early thirties lay dead, scalped, with a dozen arrows in him. A woman lay beside him, her head and face covered with blood. It appeared she had been struck with a blunt instrument of some kind—probably a battle axe the Apache sometimes carried, which they would use at times to kill someone up close. Charlie found a shovel left behind in the wagon. It was of no use to the Apache.

  The two men took turns digging a grave deep enough to hold two people. He didn’t want coyotes digging up a shallow grave and feasting on the bodies, so he dug deeper. When he was satisfied it was deep enough, he took hold of the dead man’s legs and Wild Eagle held his arms. They dropped him carefully in the open grave. Charlie dropped into the hole and positioned his hands on his chest. Then he placed a blanket over him and went to get the woman. When he grabbed her by her arms to lift her, her eyes opened. She was alive.

  “Stay where you are and don’t move. I’m getting my canteen.”

  He lifted her head and put the canteen to her lips. She drank deeply, but Charlie pulled the canteen away as he did with Wild Eagle when he found him wounded.

  “Drink slowly.”

  Her eyes drifted painfully to his and she gave him a weak nod. This time, she drank much more slowly

  Charlie took a rag, poured a little water on it, and washed the blood from her face and head. He looked around at their scattered belongings for something to place in the wagon to make her comfortable. They still had another day or two before they reached El Paso and he wanted to make her as comfortable as possible. When the wagon was prepared, he picked her up and placed her gently on the bed, hoping the journey wouldn’t be too hard on her. As soon as her head hit the soft clothing that Charlie managed to fit into a pillowcase, she fell fast asleep. He hitched a horse to the wagon and tethered the other eight Indian ponies behind the wagon. He tied his horse on a long leash to Wild Eagle’s horse. Charlie pursed his lips and made a clicking sound and the horse walked forward the short distance to the main road leading to El Paso. Marsha, who was still mounted, scrunched her eyes, trying to see what was in the wagon. She urged her horse toward it. She squealed with delight when she saw her mother sleeping soundly in the wagon bed.

  “She’s alive. My momma is alive and it’s because of you!” she said happily, pointing to Charlie.

  Charlie just nodded and pointed the horse straight ahead.

  “I want to ride in the wagon with my mommy. Please let me ride with my mommy. She needs me. I have to take care of her.”

  Charlie motioned for her to pull her horse up beside him. When she was close enough, he grabbed the reins, reached over and pulled her from her horse, and dropped her gently onto the driver’s seat.

  “Go on and get back there with your momma. She needs you to take care of her.” He smiled as he tied her horse to the wagon and clicked his teeth twice. “Giddy up, horse. We have to make time while we still have daylight.”

  The smell of beef simmering over a fire woke the wounded woman.

  “Ah, you’re awake and just in time for dinner.”

  She tried to lift herself but fell back.

  “Easy now. Here, let me help you.”

  Charlie put his hand behind her neck and helped lift her to a sitting position.

  “How does that feel?”

  She sat back against the driver’s seat. “Much better, thank you. My… my husband is he…”

  Charlie took her by her hand. “No, your husband didn’t make it, but you surprised everyone when we discovered you were still alive. Now, are you feeling well enough to eat a little food?”

  She smiled for the first time. “Yes. Food would be wonderful.”

  Just then, little Marsha rushed over to her.

  “Momma, momma, I’m so glad you’re feeling better. This nice man and his Indian friend saved us.”

  Charlie wrinkled his brow. “It’s too bad we couldn’t get there in time to save your husband. But at least little sister here has her momma now.”

  “I feel a lot better now, Mr. Longstreet. Can you please help me down?”

  Marsha’s mother ate her food sitting near the fire. Charlie sat beside her.

  “Can I ask where you folks were heading before this unpleasantness happened?”

  “We were going to California to stay with my husband’s family in San Francisco.” She spoke between bites. Then she realized that Charlie hadn’t told her his name nor had she told him hers.

  “I’m sorry. I never told you my name. I’m Rose Sulliv
an. My husband’s name was Thomas Sullivan… and you are?”

  “Charlie, ma’am, I mean, Rose.”

  “Charlie. I see. Do you have a last name, Charlie?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. It’s Longstreet, ma’am.”

  “Longstreet. It seems that I’ve heard of that name. Oh well, it’s a nice name.” She looked at him sadly. “Those savages ruined my life and I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I lost the love of my life, my husband. All the money we had saved is gone, along with my clothes. I don’t know how I’ll get to San Francisco without money or clothing for me and my daughter.”

  “Shucks, ma’am. I wouldn’t worry none about money. When we get to El Paso, I’ll buy you and your little girl a parcel of clothes.”

  “That’s very nice of you, Mr. Longstreet, but I’m not going to accept any charity. Not from you or from anyone else and that’s final.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but please don’t tell me how I can spend my money. You see, I’ve come into a lot of money lately and I’d like to see that some of it is spent wisely. Now, if you don’t mind, we won’t discuss the matter any further.”

  After dinner, Charlie sat against a rocky ledge away from the fire and lit a cigar. He called over to Wild Eagle and, when he had his attention, he tossed him a cigar. The Indian bent over the fire and lit it, then sat beside Charlie.

  “Woman and child slow us down. What we do with them?”

  Charlie shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to protect them until I can put them on a train to San Francisco.”

  Wild Eagle tilted his head and gave his friend a curious look.

  “Where you put them on train?”

  “Probably in San Diego. If they have train service to San Francisco in Yuma, we’ll do it there, but I don’t think Yuma has train service yet. We’ll just have to wait until we get there to find out.”