Return to the Alamo

by Paul Bedford

  I pulled myself up short. Recriminations of any kind were pointless. What I needed to do was find a way out and an idea was forming. Firstly, if we couldn’t take both loads of powder with us, we would leave one. Underground! Bury all the barrels, and retrieve them later. Leave a wagon and hitch the spare horses to the other team for increased speed. That led me on to another scheme. Leaping to my feet, I strode over to confront Shockley. ‘You and I are going to see this through to a conclusion together!’

  He stared at me completely nonplussed, but I continued anyway. ‘One wagon must remain here. Tonight, we will all bury its cargo.’

  Ignoring the incredulous stares, I continued. ‘Ben, Travis and you, Davey, will leave in darkness with the other wagon, our horses and Miss Fulsome. When daylight comes, or even before, Speirs will most surely come looking. He will find an apparently empty wagon, and an area of freshly turned earth.’

  Shockley was regarding me with something akin to respect, whilst the others just appeared stunned. Travis was the first to voice his concern. ‘It’s madness! Where in tarnation will you be, when that bastard Speirs rides in?’

  ‘Under the tarpaulin, on the wagon floor. With the sides in place, he’ll have no chance to see me until it’s too late. Then Kirkham and I share his horse and come after you.’

  ‘Just like that,’ exclaimed Travis sarcastically.

  Before I could reply Shockley spoke out. ‘You’ve got it all thought out, ain’t you? And you know what? It could just work.’ With that he just turned and walked away.

  Taken completely aback, the other rangers could only accept his judgement, but it was obvious that they harboured some serious doubts.

  Vicky’s response came later when she joined me by the fire. ‘You damn well better catch up with us.’

  Reaching out to my steaming jacket, I took out three gold coins that I had recovered from Flaxton’s body. With a smile, I placed them in the palm of her hand. ‘Just in case.’

  By the time darkness fell, my clothes were pretty much dry and thankfully so, as the fire had, of necessity, to be extinguished. With the unrelieved gloom came a feeling of depression. To my jaundiced eye even the trees lining both banks became menacing.

  Both wagons were equipped with spades. With these we set to work excavating a trench to accommodate the powder barrels. With one man on watch and four digging, progress was swift, but back-breakingly gruelling. Although the sod was to be replaced, the excess earth was heaved into the river, enabling the cache of powder to be flush with the ground, and therefore well disguised to anyone more than a few yards away. Each spade load had to be carried there and soon my muscles were crying out for relief. Muffled curses, both Texan and English, flowed freely that night.

  At last we were done. Earth had been packed over the barrels and the sod replaced. I hoped, for all our sakes, that they would not become infested with damp before we had the chance to recover them. That was always assuming that any of us made it back.

  Glancing across the broad river to the tree line beyond, I wondered what Speirs had made of all our activity. It would undoubtedly draw him in once we had departed.

  As I sat on the wagon bed, mopping sweat from my brow, Shockley padded up out of the gloom. ‘How we gonna play this then, General?’

  ‘When he is confident that we are gone, he will make directly for here. In this light he must know that something has taken place, but not what. I will be on this wagon bed, concealed under the tarpaulin with my shotgun. You can pick your own ground, as long as it is within sight of my position. Whatever happens he must not escape again, even if it means shooting his horse and leaving us afoot. Do you understand?’

  ‘I ain’t just come off the teat. I know what must be done, but I’ll allow you got it all thought out.’

  So it was all settled. I was to conceal myself, whilst the others led their horses past the wagon as cover. Shockley would mingle with them as they departed, dropping out at his pre-arranged spot.

  With everything prepared, the others said their quiet farewells. Travis, Ben and Davey all accepted my hand, but there was no such formality with Vicky Fulsome. Pulling me tightly to her, so that I could feel the contours of her body, she said forcefully, ‘Remember what I told you. Be sure and come back to us.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  I listened intently as the other wagon, with its attendant outriders, moved steadily away from the camp. The harsh reality of my plan rapidly became apparent, as I almost immediately felt a disconcerting remoteness from the outside world. Shockley had arranged the tarpaulin so that I could hear anyone approaching from the river, but I would be unable to see anything of relevance in any direction. The existence of side panels on the wagon meant that my vision was strictly limited to a small section of weathered timber. Such was the weight and thickness of the material laid over me that I began to imagine myself cocooned. With the strong odour of tar assaulting my nostrils, doubts crept in. I began to wonder if I had the necessary advantage over Speirs.

  So total was the initial silence that I began to feel intimidated by it. But then, gradually, I was able to make out the sound of the river. The flow of water soothed my nerves, as I realized that if I could hear that, then I must surely be able to make out the approach of my nemesis. Unfortunately, this state of relative calm was not to last.

  As time passed I found myself increasingly oppressed by the tarpaulin. My enclosed body began to overheat and I struggled with the onset of claustrophobia. It took all my willpower to remain perfectly still. Soon I was literally bathed in sweat and seriously concerned as to whether I would actually be able to react swiftly enough when the moment for action arrived.

  To this day it is impossible for me to recall at what point I first heard a new sound emanating from the river. As it was I was suddenly aware that something had changed and all my niggling discomforts were forgotten, as I strained to discern just what it could be. Then it came to me. Something was struggling against the flow and it was undoubtedly a horse, as Speirs would desperately wish to keep his powder high and dry.

  As the sound came closer, I longed to adjust my position to take a swift look, but of course that was out of the question. There was a brief disturbance as the rider urged his mount up onto the bank, before all returned to normal, with only the ripple of the water audible. Which meant that somewhere out there, Speirs was sitting in total silence, watching and waiting for any reaction to his presence.

  As though in the throws of a fever, I felt a chill run up my spine, yet I continued to sweat heavily. I desperately longed to bellow out to Shockley, ‘Shoot him, shoot him’. Yet the ranger would be situated beyond me and therefore even further away from the river. In the gloom he could not be certain of making the necessary kill shot, which he had to achieve if he were to bring our deadly game of cat and mouse to an end.

  Then I heard a new sound. The creaking of leather. He was dismounting; responding to his suspicion of apparent normality in a way that had so far kept him alive. He would leave his horse and inch forward on foot, until entirely satisfied that all was as it should be. I could not help but admire the man, for all my fear and loathing of him. His soft footfalls drew nearer and the tension in my parboiled world became unbearable. Timing was everything. In the moment required to fling off the tarpaulin, he could quite easily place a ball in my head.

  Then, so close that I could have reached out and touched it, something scrapped against the side of the wagon. Almost simultaneously, another totally unexpected noise made itself known; the sound of many horses approaching at a trot. A cocktail of fear and bafflement mingled fluidly together. The newcomers had obviously taken Speirs by surprise too, as he dropped to the ground, below and to the side of me. Frantically I tried to imagine who it could be.

  The loud crack of a rifle split the air. It could only have been Shockley, so with that the time for pondering was over. Flinging the tarpaulin to one side, I took the shotgun in my left hand and vaulted out of the wagon. Landing in a crouched
position on the opposite side to Speirs, I called across to him. ‘I believe we’re in more danger than you can imagine, Captain. Shoot me and you seal your own fate!’

  Without waiting for his response, I twisted around, joyously aware of the cool refreshing breeze on my flesh. Amazingly the scene before me was exactly as I had envisaged it on hearing the rifle discharge. A large group of riders clad only in skins were milling around in total disarray. One of their number lay twitching on the ground and somewhere in that mêlée was Kirkham Shockley.

  Pulling the butt tightly into my shoulder, I pointed the shotgun directly at them and bellowed out, ‘Kirkham, drop for your life!’

  The savages twisted towards me, struggling to identify this new threat emanating from the gloom. Pinpoint accuracy being irrelevant, I closed both eyes and squeezed the twin triggers. With an ear-splitting roar, both barrels spewed forth their deadly load. A mixture of lead balls and scrap metal scythed into the Comanches; which of course was, without any doubt, who they were.

  Night vision still intact, I snapped open my eyes and watched as Shockley leapt to his feet and sprinted towards me. Two riderless horses galloped off into the night and with a collective howl of dismay the savages took fright and followed them.

  Conscious of just who was behind me, I drew my revolver and did a rapid volte face. Directly opposite, but separated from us by the wagon, stood the tall menacing figure of Captain Speirs.

  ‘I am constantly amazed by your resourcefulness, Major,’ he remarked dryly and, under the circumstances, with notable composure. As if to emphasize his apparent mastery of the situation, the muzzle of his rifle was aimed unswervingly at my head, whereas the wagon’s sides blocked my own weapon.

  Aware that Shockley was beginning to ease his way around the front of the conveyance, I replied rapidly. ‘Those Indians are confused and demoralized at present, but on realizing just how few of us there are, they will regroup and return. Your only chance of survival is to throw in your hand with us.’

  My words carried the weight of conviction and had an effect on both men. Speirs, after brief consideration, nodded slowly and reluctantly lowered his rifle. In turn, Shockley ceased his cautious stalking and instead turned to address me. ‘Those sons of bitches rode right over me. Left me no choice than to pop a cap.’

  Speirs glanced dismissively at my companion, before directing his remarks at me. ‘It appears that we should agree to a temporary truce, at least until we have seen off this heathen trash.’ Inclining his head slightly towards Shockley he continued, ‘What say you to that, my furtive colonial friend?’

  Fixing his cold grey eyes on the captain’s, Shockley replied, ‘I aim to gut you like a fish, for what you did to my compadres! For now just remember who you’re shooting at, when those varmints show up. And keep that god damn pistola out of my face. Savvy?’

  Speirs’s thin lips curled in the semblance of a smile that completely failed to reach his own eyes, before directing his next question at me. ‘So, Major, what are your orders?’ Although I could no longer claim rank in any army, men still waited on my instructions.

  ‘Kirkham, you and the captain get a section of that sod up, whilst I reload this shotgun. I want two full-sized barrels placed out there to obstruct their approach, with powder trails leading back to this wagon. It’s a profligate waste, but it may just save our skins. I take it that one of you possesses some Lucifers?’

  Kirkham remained silent, so that it was left up to Speirs to drily reply. ‘I am sure to have some amongst my meagre possessions.’

  ‘Then let us make haste, gentlemen,’ I urged, ‘lest they catch us unprepared.’

  In response to my urging, the two men ran over to the powder cache and swiftly removed some sections of sod. Our having retained only the one spade, Speirs accepted it without demure and dug down vigorously, whilst the ranger reloaded his rifle.

  As there was only a light covering of earth, my fellow officer, for in reality that was what he was, soon recovered two of the concealed barrels. Having removed the wooden stoppers, both men then carried the containers some twenty yards out from the wagon, at a rough angle of forty-five degrees. The ensuing powder trail would act as the fuse.

  Out in the darkness I could hear much commotion, as the Comanches built up their courage. Their guttural chanting had an unearthly quality, which set my nerves on edge. It made me uncomfortably aware of the massive disparity in numbers.

  Having charged my shotgun, I propped it against a wagon wheel and then dragged the sheet of tarpaulin over to the trench. I wanted, at all costs, to avoid any of the savages discovering my concealed stock of powder, so I draped it over the freshly dug hole. Returning to the wagon, I found my two companions readying their own weapons as the hubbub reached a crescendo.

  ‘Noisy buggers, aren’t they, old boy?’ Speirs’s affected drawl was so evocative of my former life that I almost burst out laughing. I had to remind myself that he had been sent out to apprehend me at all costs. Taking up my shotgun, I glanced at the two powder trails.

  ‘I’ll thank you to produce those Lucifers now, Captain Speirs.’

  ‘At your service, sir,’ he replied with mock gallantry, at the same time pulling a small box from his trousers pocket. ‘I seem to recall that you have used a version of this little ploy before, with some success.’

  ‘It can’t have been that good, mister,’ snarled Shockley, ‘else you’d be dead as a wagon tyre now.’

  The infantry captain gave a wolfish grin as he responded to that. ‘It would take a much better man than you to achieve that end.’

  ‘If you don’t both cease this now,’ I interceded, ‘we are all as good as dead!’

  As if to support my words, there came the sudden pounding of many unshod hoofs. The Comanches were on the move. With the land still cloaked in gloom, I could only guess on when they would hit us. Our situation was truly desperate, but even so I was aware of Speirs’s appraising look as he awaited my command. The man’s coolness under duress was unnerving.

  ‘The fuses, make ready,’ I cried out. Both men knelt down next to their powder trail, Lucifers ignited and screened by their hands. ‘The moment they detonate, we charge!’

  The ground before us, which led away from the river, was flat and featureless. Once we had committed ourselves there would be nowhere to hide, or even defend. Everything would depend on timing and sheer aggression. From the inky blackness, the sound of thrumming hoofs grew nearer.

  ‘NOW!’

  Almost simultaneously the ground on either side of the wagon became visually alive as the powder ignited. The pyrotechnic display sped towards the waiting barrels, as all three of us grasped our weapons.

  The hammering of the hoofs grew louder as the mass of warriors finally burst into view, alarmingly close to the powder barrels. Under the circumstances it was hard to gauge their numbers, but there had to have been in excess of two score.

  With a grand boom, the barrel on the right flank exploded and night momentarily became day. From seemingly out of nowhere, both the blast and shards of wooden splinters struck horses and riders. The shock wave was dissipated by the open air, but was still strong enough to push their companions towards the second container.

  ‘Stand fast,’ I commanded somewhat unnecessarily, just as that charge also erupted. More animals crashed to the ground amidst a huge cloud of sulphurous smoke.

  ‘Now,’ I bellowed and as one, we leapt out from behind the wagon and raced forward. Screaming and shouting for effect, we covered the ground in seconds. The other two lagged behind slightly, so allowing me to discharge the scattergun safely. Directly before me, a dazed warrior was vainly attempting to gain control of his horse. The blast from my first discharge threw him backwards and into oblivion. Shoulder aching from the recoil, I fired the second load into a seething clutch of bronzed bodies and the resulting cloud of smoke instantly obscured them from me. The ensuing screams testified to my accuracy.

  From off to my right, a lone Comanche
staggered towards me, clutching a lance. A long splinter had bloodily skewered his belly, the unspeakable torment drawing his face into a mask of anguish. Hurling my heavy shotgun at him, I drew my revolver and thrust forward into the mêlée. On either side of me, my companions were firing aimed shots at every available target.

  Advancing relentlessly, we fired into them at point blank range, quite literally powder burning our victims. To them we must have seemed like death dealing apparitions, but our vicious progress hid a desperate vulnerability. I possessed one Paterson Colt with five chambers, whilst Shockley had two of the same. Speirs had his six shot Pepperbox. Once they were discharged there would be no opportunity to reload. We would then be left with two rifles between us and our hunting knives.

  Then calamity struck. Speirs cried out in alarm, ‘It’s jammed,’ and thrusting the Pepperbox into his belt, he swung out wildly with his rifle at the two warriors confronting him. Veering off towards him, I levelled my revolver directly at the nearest man’s head and squeezed the trigger. The weapon bucked in my hand. Through the resultant flash and smoke plume, I glimpsed blood and brains gushing from the exit wound. Speirs had meanwhile managed to slam the rifle stock into his other opponent’s ribs. With a grunt of pain, that man collapsed to his knees, totally unable to fend off the soldier’s coup de grâce. With unconcealed satisfaction, Speirs brought the butt down onto the back of his head, shouting over to me as he did so, ‘My thanks to you, sir.’

  Flushed with the excitement of fighting a common foe, I again had to remind myself that we were in fact deadly enemies, honouring a truce solely out of necessity. From my left there came the comforting report and powder flash of a Colt discharging, indicating that Shockley was holding his own. The smoke and dust generated by the twin explosions had by now completely dissipated and there was only the gloom of night to disguise our paltry numbers. Before me a powerfully built mounted warrior was shouting out commands. He could not be allowed to re-establish order amongst the war band.