by Paul Bedford
Without answering, I turned swiftly away from my informant and sought out Kirby. As usual his searching eyes missed nothing. ‘Looks like you done seen a ghost.’
The last person to say that to me had been Vicky Fulsome the previous night and things hadn’t improved much since then. Conscious of the ferrymen nearby, I kept my voice low. ‘You might not be far off the mark,’ I said, and rapidly related the lady’s revelation.
For once his self control slipped and his voice carried further than was prudent. ‘Shit in a bucket! That just tears it. And here’s us toting enough powder to. . . .’ Realization hit, and his mouth closed like a hammer on an anvil, but the damage was done.
The leader of the ferrymen released the cable and twisted round to face us, his florid, sweaty countenance flushed with anger as much as effort. ‘Powder! You done told the Dutch Gal them kegs held seeds.’
Pulling a knife from his right boot, he advanced on my wagon. Just as he reached it, Travis climbed onto the bench seat from the other side. His .36 calibre Paterson Colt was aimed unwaveringly at the other man’s temple. With a cold smile he stated, ‘You touch that stopper and I’ll pop a cap on you. And it’ll be in the head, so as not to damage the seeds. Savvy?’
‘I thought rangers were supposed to be peace officers,’ observed Vicky coquettishly.
The colour drained from the other man’s face and he nodded dumbly. Nervously licking his lips, he slowly returned to the hawser where his two companions awaited him.
‘And put that tarnal toad stabber back in your boot,’ continued the ranger.
Regaining the initiative, Kirby bellowed out, ‘Right, you sons of bitches. All three of you back to heaving on that rope. The sooner we’re across, the sooner you’re rid of us.’ Turning back to me, he asked, ‘If you was this captain sat over yonder awaiting on us, where would you be? In the shack, or back among the broken ground?’
Scrutinizing the terrain, I pondered the deployment of soldiery. A lot depended on their weaponry and skill in using it. I assumed that to be sent on such an extended mission they must all be like Sergeant Flaxton; tough, hardened and very experienced. They were unlikely to be equipped with smoothbore muskets. Therefore it was equally unlikely that they would be ensconced in the ferrymen’s shack. If things turned against them they could be trapped inside the flimsy wooden building like rats in a trap. So it was very probable that they’d be positioned back from the shore, ready to utilize the greater range and accuracy of their rifles to pick us off, as we began our slow journey into the interior. The trail that we were to follow wended through broken ground, with heavy vegetation and groves of trees of a kind that I did not recognize.
The two wagons, crammed as they were with gunpowder, presented us with a terrible dilemma. If Speirs knew what they carried, he could finish us all with one volley. But did his orders encompass the slaughter of Texan nationals?
I decided that the best course was for us to disembark quite normally and then leave the wagons by the shore. The rangers could fire a volley and we would all take cover around, but not inside, the shack awaiting developments.
Abruptly ending my deliberations, I returned to Kirby’s side and shared my thoughts with him.
After hearing me out he replied, ‘Your druthers are my druthers, Major.’
Keeping their backs to the shoreline, the rangers drew their revolvers and cocked them in readiness, eliciting alarmed looks from the three ferrymen. Vicky had noticed our preparations and I put a question to her. ‘If you were abroad so early, why did you not cross with the other group?’
I watched her intently as she replied, trying to ignore the cast in her left eye that so added to her allure. ‘There was something about them fellas that made me nervous. They looked like plug-uglies and mean with it.’
‘And we don’t?’
‘When you’ve been around men long as I have, you get to notice the differences. You and your friends look like a bunch of hard cases, but you don’t give me the shivers.’ Then she added coyly, ‘Except when you kiss me.’
Her answer sounded authentic, or at least most of it did, but I didn’t have time to ponder the more pleasant aspect of it. The ferry was now very close to Virginia Point. ‘Stay here!’ I commanded. ‘Until I say otherwise.’
The heavy wooden structure slammed into the short jetty far harder than expected, heralding our return to the mainland. The ferrymen wanted rid of us, of that there could be no doubt. As they tethered the primitive craft to the support posts, Travis and I clambered up onto our respective wagons. The six rangers led their horses off and then mounted up, their movements purposefully unhurried and natural.
Finally we had the wagons on terra firma and it was time. Reining in, I applied the brake, and then leapt off the seat clutching my shotgun. Kirby and the others aimed their revolvers at the broken ground beyond the shack and each discharged one chamber. The relative peace of the morning was roughly shattered by the crashing report. Before the smoke had time to clear they had veered off to the right and reached the ferrymen’s dilapidated abode. It occurred to me, as I ran to join them, that we were going to feel very foolish if all this came to nought.
There was a sharp crack some twenty odd yards away and Ben Fielder spun round like a ballerina. Somewhat unnecessarily Kirby yelled out, ‘Hit the dirt. We smoked ’em!’
Strangely enough my first thought was for Vicky, standing out in the open on the ferry. Rising up off the ground, I shouted at her, ‘Get down, now!’
Thankfully she had sufficient presence of mind to dash off the craft, where there was little cover, and drop to the ground amongst thick vegetation.
The ferrymen’s first reaction to the sound of gunfire was to stand and gawp, but on noticing that Ben had stopped a ball, they rapidly decided that the delights of Galveston held a great deal more appeal than those of the mainland. Frantically they heaved on the gnarled hawser. Even as they did so, I realized that they were making a dreadful mistake.
‘Watch for the smoke,’ I bellowed.
As if to order, three shots rang out and smoke drifted up, marking the positions of the hidden marksmen. Their combined accuracy was quite remarkable. All the straining figures were struck simultaneously. Two slumped to the deck. The other was thrown off the craft by the projectile’s momentum and promptly disappeared under the waves.
‘Shit in a bucket, that’s fine shooting,’ commented Tobias softly. And yet one of the three was still alive. Bleeding profusely, he should have remained still, but pain had robbed him of his wits and he began to crawl blindly across the deck. One more shot rang out and the wounded man’s head appeared to explode, as a large calibre ball smashed into and then out of it, taking skull fragments and brain matter with it.
There then followed one of those eerie moments of total silence, when even the horses refrained from making any noise. Keeping low, I took the opportunity to view our dispositions. Ben appeared only to have sustained a flesh wound and was receiving rudimentary first aid from young Davey near the far side of the shack. The other five rangers were spread out in the prone position, aiming their long rifles towards to the most recent sighting of powder smoke. There was little point in returning fire, as any skirmisher worth his salt would know to move after each shot.
‘Looks like we got us a standoff here,’ remarked Kirby grimly.
‘Except that they’re not after you, only me,’ I replied, ‘and now that I’ve purchased the powder, I’m surplus to requirements. So if you wished to, you could hand me over and ride off.’
The other man turned to look at me, incredulity etched on his face. ‘You got a mighty cheerful take on life, ain’t you?’ He stared at me hard for a few seconds before speaking again. ‘There’s three reasons why that don’t answer. You and the captain made a deal, and I ain’t about to break that. Them bastards done holed one of my men and I aim to settle with them for it. And lastly, I don’t know what you do in the god damn British Army, but out here we don’t abandon our own.’
I felt genuinely touched by that last comment and was about to thank him, when a hail from across the way interrupted me. At the same time a white shirt appeared, tied to the muzzle end of a rifle.
‘I say, would one of you gentlemen be Major Thomas Collins, late of the 4th?’ The speaker had adopted a languid tone, the like of which I had not heard for many months. Under different circumstances I would have welcomed the sound of a fellow officer.
I cautiously raised myself a few inches off the ground, very conscious of the deadly skill of those opposing me. ‘You must be Captain Speirs. I have heard a great deal about you.’ A little embellishment could do no harm, if it caused him to wonder just how much his subordinate had told me whilst under my knife.
Taking my reply as our acceptance of the flag of truce, a tall figure now rose up from amongst a grove of trees some twenty-five yards away. He had dark hair, broad shoulders and from his posture appeared quite relaxed with the situation. My companions shifted their aim slightly, but held their fire.
Showing no concern at this, Speirs said, ‘From my standpoint that’s rather disappointing, but no matter. The main thing is that I have found you.’
‘You will understand if I don’t share your enthusiasm,’ I retorted.
Kirby, growing impatient, hissed at me, ‘Enough of this shit. Let’s just drop him and be on our way.’
Speirs nodded his head slowly, although whether this was in response to my comment or some other I was unsure. Appearing to come to a decision he called out, ‘Major, might I suggest that we honour the spirit of the truce, and come together for a private discussion? I give you my word as a gentleman that you have nothing to fear.’
I shook my head emphatically before replying. ‘I have nothing to gain and everything to lose, by stepping out into the open with you. I have no experience of the value of your word, but the way in which you dispatched those three unfortunates demonstrated that you are totally ruthless.’
He was too far off for me to see his eyes, but the sneer on his face was all too evident. ‘Ah yes, well, that was a shame, but I couldn’t allow them to raise the alarm. With the ferry immobilized there can be no interruptions from the city.’
I glanced down at Kirby. This discourse was not leading anywhere constructive. Then came the question that I had dreaded. ‘Might I ask what you are transporting in those wagons? Only it seems a little unusual for a field officer to be riding atop such a thing, like a common carter.’
My pulse quickened, as my mind raced to think up a plausible reply. The captain had obviously not visited Williams’s warehouse during the hours of darkness and therefore could not know the nature of our cargo. I gave a tight smile and said as smoothly as possible, ‘It cannot have escaped your notice that I am no longer a serving officer in Her Majesty’s Army. I am now a man of business and that merchandise belongs to me.’
The speed of his response confirmed that Speirs obviously had an agile mind. ‘I can’t believe that you would stoop so low as to involve yourself in trade, but no matter. Whatever you are transporting must have great value, if you require an escort of seven Texas Rangers.’
‘That is nothing unusual,’ I swiftly answered. ‘As a new arrival here you may not know that this country is regularly scourged by groups of heathen savages known as Comanches. Lone travellers are most vulnerable to attack and only. . . .’ Speirs never heard the remainder of that sentence, as off to my right there was a sudden flurry of gunshots. It would be hard to say which of us dropped to the ground first, but his own withdrawal was encouraged by the discharge of Kirby’s rifle.
‘The lick-spittle’s tried to flank us,’ he bellowed at me.
‘That’s because Kirkham tried to flank them,’ observed Travis. ‘So much for the god damned truce!’
‘And we now know that they are quite prepared to kill Texans to achieve their aim,’ I offered. ‘That being the case we somehow need to overwhelm them, or at least get past them.’
Travis spat into the earth before saying forcefully, ‘Long as we’re hauling them wagons, we’ve got no chance of outrunning them.’
‘So we end it here, now!’ There was a hard, calculating tone to Kirby’s voice that was quite chilling. Years of hunting and fighting Comanches had imbued him with certain qualities, rarely found even in a professional soldier. However I did have two advantages over him: I had an idea how to end it, and I also possessed the means.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Jesus! You don’t mess around, do you?’
I had just informed the duo that we were going to explode a keg of gunpowder in amongst Speirs and his men. Travis provided the colourful prose, whereas Kirby immediately questioned the plan.
‘And how do we get it there without someone suffering real bad?’
This was the part I knew they would not be keen on. ‘We strap it to a horse, send it straight for them, and ignite the powder in their midst.’
That was too much for Travis. Rising up, he stabbed a finger at me and yelled, ‘You’re not blowing up my horse, mister!’
A shot rang out, and a ball slammed into the shack just behind him. Cursing, he dropped back to the ground, uncomfortably aware of the splinters embedded in his jacket. I looked questioningly at Kirby. He at least had not rejected my plan. Focusing on me, he demanded, ‘Right, two questions. Whose horse were you figuring on, and how do we blow the keg?’
Ignoring the deeply sceptical Travis, I came straight back at him. ‘Ben is wounded, not seriously, but enough to slow him down, so he can ride the wagon next to me.’
Travis couldn’t contain himself. ‘Oh, he’ll just love that. You having just exploded his horse and all!’
Kirby snapped back, ‘You got a better idea? Either put up, or shut up!’
Ignoring their exchange I continued, ‘For the bomb to be really effective, we need to empty out some of the powder, then replace it with pistol balls, and any other bits of metal we can find. That way, if you and your rangers volley fire at the keg, there should be enough metal striking metal to provide the spark that we need.’
Kirby was watching me intently. ‘You really got it all thought out, ain’t you?’
Conscious of just how thin my plan really was, I favoured him with a broad smile. ‘I must have done something right, for so many people to want me dead.’
Slapping his thigh, he gave a genuinely hearty laugh. ‘I can see why Jack Hays likes you. Right, it’s your plan, so get moving. We’ll cover you best we can whilst you get the powder.’
Thereby lay the rub in any master plan. Someone had to carry it out!
Crawling back towards the wagons, I had not attracted any fire. I would be most vulnerable when I attempted to remove a keg. It was highly unlikely that Speirs would believe that I was now some kind of frontier shopkeeper. If the British soldiers opened fire the whole supply could go up. ‘British soldiers’! It was hard to believe that I was actually under attack from my own kind.
I was on the point of reaching up, when a voice called out to me.
‘What in tarnation’s happening?’
Twisting around, I found myself facing a very agitated Vicky Fulsome. Since instructing her to take cover, I had given her no thought, but her sudden appearance gave me an idea. ‘Get out of that coat and walk slowly out in front of this wagon.’
‘Why?’ Encouragingly, the tone of her reply showed a degree of curiosity.
‘Because even those bastards are unlikely to shoot at an extremely attractive young woman and I need their attention diverted whilst I remove one of these kegs.’
She appeared quite taken by my ‘attractive young’ description, and quickly divested herself of the topcoat. ‘And a glimpse of your legs wouldn’t go amiss, miss,’ I added with a broad smile. ‘A very generous glimpse!’
She obviously had leanings towards a career on the stage, because she rose up slowly and began to parade up and down in front of the wagons, as though innocently taking the air. Not one discharge greeted her display, which
was entirely understandable. She wore a tight, form fitting burgundy coloured dress, which hung down to her ankles. Under the entirely false pretext of boggy ground, she had shamelessly hoisted this up above her knees, treating anyone who cared to look, to the sight of two well-turned calves.
Leaping up, I thrust my hand under the tarpaulin and took hold of the nearest small keg. I had to get well away from the wagons before Speirs recognized the deception and opened fire.
Awkwardly holding the container on my right shoulder, I charged across the open ground towards the cover of the shack. Realization had finally dawned. Shots rang out and large calibre lead balls thwacked into the ground. With a loud shriek, Vicky dropped to the earth, her seductive promenade abruptly concluded.
Chest heaving, I threw myself down at the rear of the shack next to Ben and Davey. Rapidly I ordered them to fill their powder horns from my container and to do the same for the others. Once everybody’s was full, there would be a sizeable space available. Next I packed rifle balls and a selection of nails found inside the shack, into the keg, before pressing down the stopper. I was well aware that I had created a truly lethal cocktail.
Kirby was still sprawled out in front of the building, intermittently returning fire, so I called out that all was ready. Next came the most unpleasant part of the whole undertaking. Travis produced a coil of rope, also from inside the shack. The saddle was removed from Ben’s horse, as it would have added insult to injury for him to lose that as well. Careful to keep our clandestine activities out of sight, we firmly tied the keg onto the animal’s back.
Grabbing its forelock, Kirby led it to the side of the building. His six rangers, for even the wounded Ben was included, cocked their revolvers. Standing ready with my sawn off shotgun, I was greatly surprised to see that Kirby was aiming his weapon at the horse.
‘Now,’ he yelled and with a crash all six revolvers discharged in unison. Smoke wreathed about our position so that, for a vital moment, Ben’s horse was obscured. Kirby placed the muzzle of his revolver on its rump, and squeezed the trigger. The emerging ball gouged a bloody furrow through its flesh. With a scream of pure agony, partially masked by a second volley from the rangers, the demented creature leapt forward, and careered towards Speirs and his men.