It was clear that Quanah was a hoarder. His home was filled with all kinds of items, which he cherished. I told Maggie and Adam, “Ok, start looking around for anything that could have a Templar Cross on it, like a helmet, sword, or shield.”
Mr. Quanah commented, “I know somewhere … somewhere … I have seen that symbol. Oh, there is also stuff in the garage.”
I went to the garage to search. After two hours, my back and hands were killing me. I was only halfway done with the pile of relics and I was beat. I walked back into the living room to take a break.
I heard Maggie ask Quanah if he could turn on the light. He reached over from his chair to pull the chain on a lamp next to him. I watched him pull the chain and the lamp lit up, but it was far from being a bright light.
I asked, “Maggie, any luck?”
“No luck here, but I found a dead rat.”
Quanah chuckled and said, “You may keep the rat.”
Adam shouted from a back room. “No luck here.”
I looked at Quanah and again at the lamp. I did a double take. The lamp had tassels hanging from it. I couldn’t actually make out what it was until I moved closer to it. It was a homemade lamp alright. There was something underneath the lamp shade.
I took the shade off. Yes, underneath was a helmet. I carefully rubbed the dust off the helmet. To my surprise there was the Templar Cross etched into the side of it. I shouted, “This is it! Here’s a Templars helmet!” Adam and Maggie stepped over the junk on the floor to view it.
Quanah said, “Yes, that’s it. Now I remember. Let me see that.” Removing the metal helmet from the lampstand, I handed the heavy thing to him. “I made this lamp from the helmet years ago, so I wouldn’t lose it. This is very important. Let me tell you the story about this helmet.”
“You have a story?” Adam asked.
“Yes, Black Horse is not the only one who knows stories. It is my family story from many thousands of moons ago. It is the story of how the Comanche tribe obtained the first horses from the White Ghosts.”
“White Ghosts?”
“Yes, White Ghosts, Wolf Boy,” Iron Coat said, with a laugh. “That is my Indian name for you. You are now Wolf Boy because of your wolf dogs.”
Adam smiled and said, “Thank you for the Indian name, Mr. Quanah.”
“Now, let me tell the story. It is a long story so sit down and listen carefully, because I will not repeat it.” We quickly sat down as close as possible so we wouldn’t miss a word from the soft spoken old man.
Quanah continued, “Hundreds of years ago, my people were living here on the plains. They had no horses at the time because the horse was not here then. They hunted on foot. They even hunted buffalo on foot which was dangerous and almost impossible.
“Only the fastest runners and best hunters could kill a buffalo using spears and arrows. It became a test of manhood. To become a man, you needed to kill a buffalo by yourself. A good hunter could do this by the age of fourteen.”
Adam interrupted, “I’m almost fourteen. I can’t imagine killing a buffalo with arrows, on foot. I think it’s impossible.”
“They had to do it or the tribe would go hungry. They would sneak up on the buffalo dressed as another buffalo. The hunter would need to get within 20 yards. Usually a group of men would go after one buffalo. It would take many arrows to kill a buffalo. Once it was shot, the buffalo would run so the hunters would have to run after it, until it stopped. Then they would shoot it again. When the buffalo dropped to the ground, then all would run in and stab it in the heart with spears.”
Quanah asked for a glass of water which Adam swiftly brought him. “Ok, here’s your water Mr. Quanah. Please, tell us more.”
“After killing the buffalo, the hunters would cut out the liver and each would take a bite while it was still warm. They hold it in the air thanking the Buffalo Spirit for its life.”
The old Indian stopped talking for a minute. As if he was trying to think what to say. “Oh, the women in the tribe cut the buffalo up and dragged it back to camp. Sometimes that would take all day depending how many miles they had to walk.”
Maggie said, “Wow, that’s a lot of work. One of those buffalo could weight a ton.”
“One day the hunters were tracking a buffalo herd when they saw the White Ghosts. The ghosts were riding on the back of some strange animal. Of course, the hunters were surprised and frightened by what they saw. They wondered are these men, spirits, or ghosts? All were dressed in long white robes, their heads and faces were covered by masks, which we call metal helmets. The hunters had never seen anything like this before.
“They decided to follow these ghosts, to see what they were doing and where they were going. According to the story, there were more ghosts than they could count. They also had wagons which were pulled by the big animals. Remember, the Comanche nor any Indians ever used wagons. Indians didn’t have the wheel a long time ago. Everything was moved by pulling a pole sled.”
Quanah stopped talking and lit up a smoke. I stood up, stretched my legs, and also lit one up.
After a few puffs, he continued the story. “So our hunters wanted to watch these ghosts, which they did while keeping out of sight. They followed them for three days and nights. After that it was clear that they were not ghosts, but some type of man with white skin. They observed how the men took care of the big animals that they rode on. The hunters noticed that the animals ate grass like the buffalo.
“One the fourth day, the white men stopped to carve some stones. The hunters were spotted by the white robes. One of the white robes waved a hand at them to come into their camp. A group of white men rode to meet the hunters, who now were afraid. When the white men came to close, one hunter shot an arrow at him, out of fear. The arrow just bounced off the white man. The hunters thought he was arrow proof.”
“The arrow bounced off because of the Knights armor,” Adam said.
“The white men on their big animals surrounded the hunters and pointed their long knives at them.”
Adam interjected, “You mean their swords.”
Quanah gave Adam a look telling him to be quiet. “Yes, swords. When they took out the swords, the small group of hunters submitted, throwing down their weapons. They walked back to the camp of the white men under guard and were given some water.”
“Wow,” Adam responded.
“They tried to speak to each other but it was impossible. The hunters just sat there and watched the white robes carve a rock for five days.”
Old Quanah stopped talking and looked at the helmet. As he rubbed the helmet it seemed his mind was racing back in time. Back to a time of the Comanche hunters, so long ago. I’m sure every time he told this story he held the helmet in his hands. It probably helped him to remember.
After a long pause, Adam asked, “So what did they do?”
“The white eyes fell asleep during the night. The hunters killed two of them and snuck away without being heard.”
“That’s it?” Adam asked. “What about the horses?”
“Oh yes, I forgot. They took four horses with them and this helmet. That is the story how the Comanche was the first tribe to have the horse.”
“Didn’t the Knights chase them?” Maggie asked.
“I do not know if they did,” Quanah replied. “That is the end of the story. I don’t remember any more right now.”
I asked, “What about the rock they were carving?”
“Oh, it is still there on a hill, near the old trail.”
I stood up and thought, if the carved rock is still there it may have the Templar Cross carved in it or some clue. “Mr. Quanah, can you take us to this carved rock?”
“Sure, but it is just a rock. It has the same symbol as the helmet on it.”
“You said the rock is near the old trail. Can you tell us how to go there?”
“Maybe I can remember where it is. Why do you want to see a rock?”
Maggie touched the old Chief’s hand and softly said,
“Mr. Quanah, the rock, and trail are important for us to see. Will you please take us to see it?”
“Yes, I would like to, but I’m too old for that. It is a two day journey by pony. I have no ponies.”
I laughed a little and said, “We’ll go by truck.”
“I have no truck.”
“Chief Quanah, we have a truck.”
Maggie spoke up. “Mr. Quanah, we have a truck so you can ride in comfort, so please show us the rock.”
He looked at Maggie and patted her head. “Ok, Warrior Woman, who carries a long knife. I will take you. Make ready to leave.”
Quanah was referring to the fact that Maggie was dressed in combat fatigues, carried an M4, and had her machete dangling from her waist. She was an imposing figure, so to speak. It was hard to say no to Maggie when she asked you a soft sweet voice for a favor.
We made the truck ready and advised Captain Baldwin where we were going. The only problem was we didn’t know exactly where we were going. The Chief just told us he’d remember as he went along.
Pulling away from Lawton we headed north on Route 281 per the Chief’s directions. It was almost 2 pm. It was a cloudy day and you could sense that some rainstorms were heading our way.
After about an hour, Iron Coat said, “Slow down and turn left here.” I slowed down and started to turn. “No, don’t turn here, keep going a little more.”
I had my doubts that he could remember where the trail was. At the next dirt road, Quanah told me to turn left. “Is this the correct trail?” I asked, as I stopped the truck.
“Yes, it is. Keep going straight on this road until I tell you to stop.”
This wasn’t a road at all. It was a single lane dirt trail with big ruts in it. The terrain next to the trail was rocky and contained little valleys or dips. In my opinion, the terrain was impassable, even by four-wheel drive.
We had to slow down to keep from breaking an axle or getting a flat tire on the sharp rocks. The whole truck was rocking and rolling, making everyone hold on to something to keep stable. Our speed was a blazing 5 to 10 mph.
Chief Quanah dozed off and his head was shaking like a bobblehead doll. That disturbed me because if he was asleep, we could drive right past the Templar location and not know it.
The shaking, rocking, and rolling of the truck was getting to everyone. Maggie said, “Man this is a rough road. I’m getting sea sick.”
Adam laughed. “It’s fun, Maggie.”
I said, “Look out the window at the horizon. Don’t look at the floor or you’ll get sick.”
Quanah woke up in a daze. Adam asked, “Mr. Quanah, how much further?”
“I don’t know. This looks different from the old days.”
I said, “We’re stopping here for a break.” I figured that we needed a break, and maybe if Quanah got out of the truck, and looked around it might spark his memory. Maybe riding in the truck was confusing him, since he was probably here last on horseback.
I pulled to a stop on top of a small knoll. We all got out and stretched our legs. The dogs gladly jumped out and started running around. I gave the Chief a smoke, and we both lit up. Maggie handed us all a bottle of water. As I walked around the dirt trail, I couldn’t help but think that this was the old Army trail, which was originally an Indian trail. This had been here hundreds of years. If the Knights Templar used this trail, I couldn’t imagine how they ever pulled wagons over this. It must have been slow going.
I walked over to Quanah who was sitting on a big stone. “Chief, how do you feel?”
“Better since we stopped. I was getting sick also. A pony is better on this trail.”
“I agree a pony is better. Do you know how much further?”
He peered down the trail and pointed. “You see that high hill? The one far away, with the flat top.”
“Yes, I see it.”
“I think that is Ghost Hill. We’ll know if it is, when we get there”
Looking at the hill through my M4 scope, I estimated the hill was a couple of hours away at the speed we were going.
Mounting up we got moving again. Dark clouds rolled in and it started to rain. If it rained a lot this dirt trail could turn into a mud slick path, making it dangerous as hell. There were cliffs on both sides of the road which meant possible death, if we slid off.
I stopped at the bottom of the big hill and observed the trail had a 30 degree incline. It started pouring cats and dogs. Water was running down the dirt trail like rain in a gutter. The road was being flooded. I dropped the transmission into 4-wheel drive low. Thank God, for big knobby off-road tires.
I muttered, “Everyone hold on, here we go.”
My trusty F-250 slowly groaned forward in low gear. The wheels were spinning every now and then. The trail being only seven to eight feet wide didn’t leave much room for error. All of a sudden I lost traction and the rear end skidded off to the side.
Maggie shouted, “Oh my, God!”
I stopped as Maggie looked out the rear window. “Jack, this left rear tire is almost hanging over the cliff.”
I counter steered just a little while slowly applying gas to inch forward, trying not to spin the wheels. It worked and we inched forward making it to the top of the hill. Of course, as soon as we got on top the driving rain changed to a slight drizzle.
Chief Quanah said, “It is the rainy season.” We all laughed at that comment because he seemed unconcerned about the dangerous situation we just had.
Coming to a stop I said, “I need a drink.” Getting out of the truck, I lit up a smoke.
Maggie handed me my bottle of JD. I took two big swigs and handed it back to her. She asked, “Is this it?”
“Yes, welcome to Ghost Hill,” Quanah said.
The top of the hill was flat, and was the size of a football field. It was made up of huge rocks protruding out of the ground. These rocks, some the size of cars, were lying all over the top of the hill. There must have been thirty of them.
The Chief was still sitting in the truck. I asked, “Do you know which rock is carved?”
“I can’t remember which one.”
I ordered, “Maggie, Adam, let’s spread out and check each stone.”
It was getting dark early, due to the rain clouds. As I walked around checking each rock, I knew we couldn’t go back to Lawton tonight with the rain and mud. It was simply too dangerous. I visualized us sliding down the muddy hill, out of control, and going over the cliff.
Adam yelled, “I found one!” Maggie and I ran over to see it. Carved in the top was an arrow. I checked my compass and it pointed due west.
Further to the north, I spotted a gravestone shaped like a Templar Cross. Just the top of it was protruding from the ground. We walked over to it and found another one that was almost completely buried. I said, “Two grave markers means two dead men; just like the Chief told us in his story.”
It was a little spooky finding the graves. No one spoke a word because it was almost like we were standing on holy ground.
Maggie checked another big stone near it and found another Templar Cross engraved in the rock. We stood there observing this stone. Adam and I ran our hands over the worn stone. These stones were confirmation that the Knights were here long before any other Europeans. This validated that we were on the right track to find the treasure.
Adam took some pictures of the stones. While standing on top of the rock, he pointed towards the trail. “Look, there’s some trucks coming.”
I quickly turned around to observe them. I counted eight trucks about a mile away. I ran to get my Cobb 50 out of our truck, because the scope would give me a better view.
Using the high power scope, I could see someone’s face, up to almost a mile away. Placing the big rifle’s bipod on a stone, I peered through the scope. The first vehicle was the black truck that had been dogging us since Florida.
I used the zoom to gain a closer view. The trucks stopped about 800 yards away, according to my laser range finder. Watching them dism
ount, the man driving the black truck got out and looked directly at the hill. All of the men had on the Templar white surcoats, with the red cross on the front. I called Adam over. “Adam, here take a look. Who is this guy?”
Adam peered into the scope and replied, “I can’t believe it. I think it’s Mr. Canfield. It’s hard to tell because he’s got a hat on.”
“I thought that was him. The rat is after you and the Sword of Jerusalem.”
Canfield is the man who tried to stop Adam and Emma from coming to live with me the night Adam’s grandfather passed away. He is a corrupted member of the old order of the Knights Templar. He and Christian de Molay had planned to steal the Sword of Jerusalem in order to find the treasure.
Chief Quanah walked over and asked, “What is going on?” He peered down the hill and saw the white mantles. “We have brought the White Ghosts back to life. It was not good to come here.”
“Quanah, they aren’t Ghosts. They’re men just like us. Watch, I’ll show you.” I moved Adam aside. I bent down on one knee, and squinted through the scope at my target. I wanted to take this guy out. I wanted this asshole dead.
“If they are men, like us, why do they come here dressed like ghosts?”
“It’s a long story why they’re here. I’ll tell you later, Chief.”
These were dangerous men who wanted the sword and the treasure for their own profit. I had no choice but to try and kill their leader, Mr. Canfield, and maybe a few others. If I could terminate a couple, from this distance, maybe they would think twice before coming any closer.
Racking a round into the chamber, I looked through the scope. Canfield’s head came into view. I zeroed the cross hairs on his chest. Quickly, I checked the bushes for wind. There was about a 15 mph breeze from the south. I adjusted my scope to compensate for windage, by 3 clicks. I knew this Cobb was zeroed in for 1,000 yards. The 200 yard difference wouldn’t matter much, since I was shooting downhill. I decided to aim at his center of mass. It didn’t matter much where I hit him, because the 50 caliber round would blow him apart. This was a long shot, almost a half mile, and even a raindrop could cause me to miss.
TEMPLARS QUEST: GHOST KILLER (TEMPLARS QUEST CHRONICLES Book 1) Page 9