The Rise of a Warrior

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The Rise of a Warrior Page 7

by Harvey Stanbrough


  Wes grinned. “Aw, now that just goes straight to my heart, Mac.” He sat down on his bedroll, leaned back against his saddle, and tipped his hat down over his eyes.

  Mac frowned. “You gonna go to sleep just like that? What about settin’ a watch?”

  Wes drew his Colt, cocked it, and laid it across his belly with his finger next to the trigger. He flopped the top blanket over himself. “I got it covered. No problem.”

  Mac shook his head and walked over to his horse to take off his gear and settle in. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to set a watch. He’d watch first, then wake Wes up in three or four hours, and then Wes could wake him and so on. That probably would be best. He glanced back at his friend. Wes didn’t seem to want to participate.

  He shook his head again. Quietly he said, “I’ll just stand watch by myself.” He grinned. Tomorrow or the next day they’d be Rangers. “Doubt I could sleep anyway.”

  He moved down to the creek, crossed it on a few strategically placed rocks, and walked up a slight hill through the brush. Near the top of the hill was a boulder. He put his back against it and sat down. He had a mostly clear line of vision to Wes’ bedroll and where they’d hobbled the horses.

  He checked to see whether he could get to his Colt easily and found he could. The night air was warm despite the lack of cloud cover. The scent of white thorn acacia was thick and sweet on the air, even heady. He lay his head back on the boulder and looked at the stars. There must’ve been a million of them, each one twinkling in its turn. The moon was a little less than half full and waning, still high in the western sky. A crater near the flat edge was cut off by shadow. It looked a little like a fish hook, turned the way it was.

  He began tracing the Big Dipper with his gaze. From the outer side of the cup down to the base, along the bottom to the inner side, up to the handle. Then out, out, out to the little star on the tip of the handle and then a leap of faith out to the North Star.

  He wondered vaguely how many days it would take to span that gap from the last star in the handle to the North Star. It would have to be quite a stretch. A lot farther than from Watson to Amarillo, that was sure.

  Slowly his eyes closed.

  *

  The following morning Mac jolted awake shortly before sunup, when the eastern horizon was just beginning to glow. He was still propped up against his rock, but the thin wool blanket cut some of the chill off the air. For just a moment he wondered where he was and why.

  Then he remembered. He and Wes were on their way to Amarillo. They were going to join the Rangers. He smiled.

  Then he remembered he was supposed to be on watch. He’d fallen asleep. “Oh man,” he said, then moved his arms out from under the blanket. He arched his back against the rock and stretched his arms over his head as he yawned. Finally he flopped the blanket aside—blanket? Had he brought a blanket up with him?

  Weird. He should remember. He shook his head, then stood and shook the stiffness out of his joints. He looked out over the camp. “Damn. Lucky I still got my scalp.”

  “No luck to it, partner.”

  Mac spun around, reaching for his Colt, every nerve awake.

  Wes was standing atop the same boulder against which he’d slept. He shoved his hands out in front of him, palms out, and he was grinning. “Hold on, now. Hold on. Don’t go to shootin’.”

  Mac frowned as he recognized him. “Wes? What in the world are you doin’ up there?”

  Wes shrugged. “Right at the moment, tryin’ to avoid gettin’ perforated. Before that, it was my watch.”

  Mac frowned. “What?”

  “My watch. Don’t you remember yesterday sayin’ we ought’a set a watch? Remember I joked, said I had it covered? I guess you took sundown to midnight or thereabouts, an’ then I had midnight to sunup. ‘Least that’s what you said when you came an’ got me.” He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure it was considerably earlier than midnight though.”

  “Wait, wait.” Mac pointed at himself. “I woke you up?”

  “You don’t think I got up on my own, do you? Then you grabbed one’a my blankets, turned around an’ walked right back up here. You propped yourself against that rock an’ draped my blanket over you, and I think you were asleep before I even settled in good.”

  “Really?”

  Wes solemnly held up his right hand. “On my word as a Texas Ranger.”

  “You ain’t a Ranger yet.”

  Wes lowered his hand. “Technicality. Mac, do you really think I’d be on watch if you hadn’t badgered me into it?”

  Mac looked at him for a moment. “No... prob’ly not.”

  “There y’go. Now that we’re both up an’ about, what say we get our stuff together an’ get on up the road?”

  “Don’t you wanna make some coffee or—”

  Wes hopped off the side of the boulder and started down the hill. “We’re wastin’ daylight.” He moved down through the brush into the camp, with Mac following a short distance behind.

  In camp, Mac was surprised to see that Charley was already saddled and ready to go. Wes had only to roll up his bedroll again and lash it to the back of the saddle. In response to the unasked question on Mac’s face, Wes said, “We rode out a little ways earlier, had a look around. I would have said something but I figured you saw us from up on the hill.”

  Mac nodded. “Find anything?”

  Wes didn’t want to embarrass his friend about his falling asleep during his watch. He shrugged. “Wasn’t lookin’ for anything.”

  When Mac was ready, they mounted up and rode south.

  * * *

  Corporal Connolly, Court Edwards and Jack Stilson were sitting in the headquarters with Captain Flowers. The other veteran, Mason Philby, was at the Amarillo Inn sharing a bottle with the newby, Blake Stanton. The captain would debrief the two of them later if necessary.

  The corporal said, “Tell y’what, Captain, it was about the worst I’ve seen, an’ I’ve been doin’ this job for twelve years.

  “I mean, it was Iron Bear’s usual, the way he trussed the man and the woman up on the corral an’ gutted em. Cut the man’s Achilles’ tendons an’ skinned his back. Scalped the woman an’ threw it in the dirt, strung her innards out. All of that was the same.

  “An’ the boy was typical too. Shot once, dropped. But the girl—” He looked at Stilson. “Figure she was about thirteen, maybe fourteen years old?”

  Stilson nodded. “‘Bout that.”

  Connolly continued. “Captain, she had a hole in her belly the size of her fist, up under her ribs. Like they were tryin’ to dig her heart out from down there.”

  Stilson said, “An’ tell him about the arrows.”

  Connolly glanced at him and nodded, then turned back to the captain. “She had fourteen arrows in her, Captain. Fourteen, shot from close up, pinnin’ her to the ground.” He shook his head. “I never seen anything like it.”

  Stilson nodded. “It was pretty bad.”

  Edwards was looking at the floor. “Bad on the other end too.” He looked up at the captain. “The way that skinny runt of an Indian kept blocking Reeves with Mimbres’ horse. An’ the way he looked at us while he took Reeves’ scalp... like he knew there wasn’t nothin’ we could do about it. I’ve never seen anybody do that before. Not like that. Not to mention what he did to Mimbres.”

  He looked over at Corporal Connolly for a moment.

  Connolly nodded, indicating he should continue.

  Edwards said, “Captain, that Indian cut Mimbres’ throat to kill him, and then he scalped him... but he also dug out his eyes. Both of ‘em. His left eye was still there, but it was layin’ on his cheek. Never seen that before. But his right eye... Captain, that bastard dug out his right eye and tossed it down the trail while Philby and Stanton were goin’ up to get Mimbres’ body.”

  The captain shook his head. “Incredible what these bastards will do.”

  Edwards turned to Connolly. “An’ Jim, what was that he yelled right ther
e at the end?” He looked at the captain again. “He yelled somethin’ about two of a kind an’ all of what we do or somethin’ like that.”

  Connolly said, “Naw, he said his name.” He looked at the captain. “Like he wanted to be sure we knew who he was. He said, ‘Tilo ka Tuwikáa Hayarokwetü.’ It means ‘I am Four Crows.’ It was like he was announcing himself.”

  Edwards nodded. “Yeah, that’s what it was. Or that’s what it sounded like at least.”

  The captain nodded. “That’s exactly what he was doing, announcing himself. Ever heard of him?”

  “No sir. He was some distance away, but he looked like he wasn’t much older than that girl and boy they butchered on that farm.”

  Stilson said, “He sure acted older though. He took Reeves’ scalp like it was nobody’s business an’ held it up. That’s when he yelled that name or whatever it was, an’ then he put his foot in Reeves’ back an’ shoved him down the slope.”

  Connolly nodded. “I got a feelin’ we’re gonna hear of him before it’s all said an’ done. Prob’ly a lot. We put eighteen Comanches in the ground that day, Captain, even ol’ Iron Bear. An’ frankly, two days ago I’d have told you if anybody other than Iron Bear escaped it wouldn’t be that big a deal. But this Four Crows kid, I just don’t know. I got a feelin’ we witnessed the birth of a war chief.”

  The captain sighed. “Time will tell, I guess. Anything else?”

  “Just the deal with Mr. Billings up in Watson. I think I told you about that earlier.”

  “Yep. I’ll get a wire off to the governor in the next day or two. Reimbursement for one horse plus room and board for seven of ours, that right?”

  “Yes sir, I think that’ll do it. Well, no. Make that room and board for five of ours. I left Reeves’ and Mimbres’ horses with him too.” He shrugged. “They didn’t have families an’ it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  The captain nodded. “I think that’s fine.” He put his hands on his knees and got up. “All right. Now if you men will all stand, I have at least a little bit of good news.”

  Connolly stood up, with Edwards alongside him and Stilson on the other side of Edwards.

  The door opened and Philby came in with Stanton.

  Philby took one look and removed his hat. He gestured, indicating that Stanton should do the same and that he should move up to stand alongside Stilson.

  Stanton did as he was told.

  Philby moved up alongside him.

  The captain nodded at Philby, then turned to his desk for a moment and pulled out an official looking sheet of paper. He held them up. “Gentlemen, I have in my hand a message from the governor. I had hoped it was my retirement certificate and a letter announcing my replacement.”

  He grinned and they all laughed quietly.

  “But it wasn’t. Actually, it’s a warrant and a citation, and it’s about the only thing that would give me greater pleasure than my retirement certificate. I’m going to read it to you, and then present it to our new corporal, Ranger Courtney Lee Edwards.”

  A huge grin spread across the faces of all present.

  Captain Flowers read the full warrant, including the citation, then concluded with, “Therefore, it is my great privilege and honor to promote Ranger Courtney Lee Edwards to the rank of corporal with all the rights and privileges thereunto pertaining.” He grinned and extended his right hand to Court while offering him the warrant with his left hand. “Congratulations, Corporal Edwards.”

  Edwards was taken aback. “Thank you, Captain. Thanks so much. You sure you got the right guy?”

  Everyone laughed and the captain said, “It’s richly deserved, Court. I’m just glad it came through while I was still here to present it.”

  Connolly said, “Congratulations, Court. The captain’s right, you do deserve it. You see any of those rights and privileges he talked about though, let me know.” He laughed.

  Stilson congratulated him and shook his hand as well. “Ah what’s one more boss. Reckon I can deal with it.”

  Philby stepped around Stanton and shook Edwards’ hand too. “Congratulations, Corporal. Well deserved.”

  Stanton nodded. “Congratulations, Corporal Edwards.”

  Connolly said, “Amarillo Inn, Captain? Seems to me a celebration’s in order.”

  The captain laughed. “Sounds right to me. Why don’t we—”

  The door opened a bit and Sam Pencilman, a thin, mousy man, peeked his head around the door. The man’s round spectacles had slid halfway down his nose. The tuft of hair at the front of his pate was sticking straight up, centered on the front of his otherwise bald head. The whole thing was framed by a distinctive, graying fringe. “Captain Flowers?”

  The captain looked at him. “Yes? Oh hi, Sam. Got something for me?”

  The small man pushed the door farther open and came in, a piece of paper in his hand. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up midway along his thin forearms. The shirt itself was stuffed into black trousers, which were held up by stained black suspenders. His black shoes were scuffed to the point they had little color on them anymore.

  He pushed his glasses up his nose with one finger. “Yes sir. Beggin’ your pardon, Captain, a telegram came in from Fort Perry. Seemed like it might be important, so I thought... well, here.” He proffered the telegram.

  The captain took it and looked at it. He read it, then glanced up at the small man. “Thanks, Sam. Please wire back that we’re on our way.”

  Sam seemed to almost bow. “Yes sir. Right away.” Then he pivoted and almost ran from the room.

  Connolly took a couple of steps and closed the door behind him, then turned around. “What is it, Captain?”

  The captain looked at the telegram again, then looked up. “Actually, I think I’ll give this one to our new corporal.” He glanced at Court. “Corporal Edwards, are you ready for your first assignment?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “All right. This wire is from the colonel up at Fort Perry. Says he had some disturbing news and he’d like to talk with a Ranger about it. Might not be anything at all. The colonel’s fairly new up there I think. Been there only a couple months.

  “Still, with this new renegade Comanche running loose I’d like you to ride up and check it out.” He looked at Ranger Philby. “Mason, you want to ride along?”

  Philby nodded. “Sure thing.”

  The captain said, “Good, then it’s set. In fact, take our young Ranger Stanton too. Let him see a little more of the country.” He turned to Stanton. “You okay with that?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Connolly said, “You sure we shouldn’t saddle up too, Captain?”

  “No, I think it’ll be all right. Better hang around. Never know what might come up right here in the next day or two.”

  He turned to Edwards again. “Of course, in that part of the country there’s a chance this could turn into more. Send me a wire if you need to, and be sure to let me know if something comes up that’ll keep you from being back in a week. All right?”

  Edwards grinned. “No problem, Captain. We’ll take care of it.” He glanced at Mason Philby and Blake Stanton. “Meet me down at the livery stable in an hour? Lot of daylight left today. Be a shame to waste it.”

  Stanton said, “Yes sir, Corporal.”

  Mason grinned. “See you there, Court.”

  They turned to leave.

  Edwards said, “That it, Cap?”

  The captain nodded. “See you in a week.”

  * * *

  In hindsight, Wes thought maybe he should have roused Mac when he’d heard the Indians moving past, but the fact was, he didn’t know Mac had fallen asleep on watch until he got back from his little side trip.

  He decided it was better not to say anything after the fact. So Wes didn’t tell him about the sounds moving west to east just north of their camp at the creek. He didn’t tell him about the deep tracks of the unshod horses he’d found when he and Charley had inv
estigated. Nine horses had passed, all heavy with braves. And he definitely didn’t tell him how he had come to know they were braves.

  Almost three hours into the morning they crossed the upper fork of Palo Duro Creek, and an hour and a half later, they came to the lower fork. They stopped there to rest and to water the horses and eat some breakfast.

  Wes seemed lost in thought.

  Mac looked at him. “A’right, what’s got you spooked?”

  Wes looked up. “What? Nothin’. Why?”

  Mac shrugged. “Just seems like you ain’t as talkative as usual. You seem more... business like, sort of. Like you’re on guard.”

  Wes shrugged. “Can’t imagine that bein’ on guard out here is a bad thing.”

  “Yeah, but you’re on guard like you think somebody’s after us, or maybe lyin’ in wait. You see somethin’ back up the way you ain’t tellin’ me about?”

  “C’mon, Mac, wouldn’t I tell you if I saw somethin’?”

  After they’d rested for a half-hour or so, they mounted again and continued south.

  Several hours later, when they reached the north bank of the Canadian River, Mac said, “How about we make camp for the night? It’s been a long day, but tomorrow should be an easy half-day’s ride into Amarillo from here.”

  Wes nodded. “Deal, but let’s cross the river first. I’d feel better with nothin’ between us an’ Amarillo but the prairie.”

  Mac wondered at his friend’s sudden bent toward caution, but he figured Wes would talk with him about it when he was ready. “All right,” he said, and turned his horse south to look for an appropriate ford.

  Once they had crossed the river, Mac looked at him. “Reckon I’ll take the first watch again. Same deal as last night? I’ll rouse you around midnight?”

  Wes nodded. “Sure, Mac, that sounds fine.”

  As Wes was taking his gear off Charley and setting out his bedroll, Mac moved off to scout a good place to stand watch. He took one of his own blankets with him.

  Again Wes lay on his bedroll with his Colt drawn, cocked and laid across his stomach. He spread one of his two thin wool blanket over himself, more to cover his Colt than for warmth. But he didn’t sleep.

  He had thought about the events of the previous night several times as he and Mac rode south, but it still didn’t quite make sense. He was missing something. He played the scene through his head one more time.

 

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