The Iron Eyes Collection

by Rory Black

  His bony hands juggled the Navy Colts and started using them as clubs. Blow by blow, he finished off the last of Running Wolf’s small army and then fell to his knees and started to quickly reload his guns. His skilful hands made short work of shaking spent casings from the smoking chambers and replacing them with fresh bullets.

  As he feverishly worked, he spotted a much grander building set close to a fast flowing creek. When one of his guns was loaded he rammed it into his belt and got back to his feet again. Pablo moved close to his mentor and looked around the smoke filled area for more of Running Wolf’s followers.

  ‘Have we killed them all?’ he said as his shaking hand forced bullets into the smoking Winchester magazine. ‘Are there any more?’

  Iron Eyes finished reloading the second of his famed weapons and tapped the arm of the younger man.

  ‘Listen, sonny,’ the bounty hunter said as he primed his gun in his hand and pointed its barrel at the larger structure, ‘I hear me wailing. There are young kids in there.’

  Pablo’s expression changed. It was as though every ounce of colour had been drained from his handsome face. He too could hear the pathetic cries.

  ‘I hear Maria,’ he said as the spine-chilling howl of a hatchet-wielding brave rang out from behind them.

  They both spun on their heels and saw the unmistakable Apache leader known as Running Wolf throwing himself through the air at them. Pablo went to cock his rifle but the hand guard jammed.

  Iron Eyes pushed the young Mexican into the dust and blasted his Navy Colt into the chest of the Indian. Running Wolf turned in the air as death claimed him.

  The Apache crashed into the pile of dead bodies behind the bounty hunter. Iron Eyes flipped his lifeless body over and stared into the face he had seen on several wanted posters.

  Pablo struggled back on to his feet. He gazed at the body and then into the expressionless face of the gaunt bounty hunter. He went to speak but once again Iron Eyes was faster to the draw.

  ‘That’s Running Wolf, boy,’ he said.

  ‘You were so fast,’ Pablo said. ‘I have never seen anyone so fast with their gun as you.’

  Iron Eyes nodded and then looked to the structure less than a hundred yards away from where they stood amid the choking gun smoke and spilling gore.

  ‘Go get little Maria, sonny.’ He sighed as his intense stare darted between the dead at their feet. ‘By the sound of it, that gal ain’t on her lonesome.’

  Pablo ran to his sister’s sobbing cries.

  FINALE

  Every eye within the compound of the hacienda watched as the line of horses and Indian ponies headed across the arid sand toward them. Don Jose clenched his hands together as Iron Eyes led the troop of young females into the courtyard with Pablo at his side. Iron Eyes said nothing as he dismounted and stared silently at the elegant nobleman who greeted his daughter and the five other females captured by the notorious Running Wolf. One by one they were helped off the ponies and escorted into the impressive house.

  The bounty hunter strode into the large building, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and then returned to the water trough set just outside the hacienda. He sat upon the edge of the stone trough and started to devour the strong liquor as he listened to the joyous commotion behind his wide shoulders.

  As the weary bounty hunter rested, he thought about the feisty Squirrel Sally up in her room. He knew he would have to face her sooner or later, but was in no hurry.

  After a while Don Jose walked out as the last rays of the sun bathed the whitewashed structure in its crimson glow. The bounty hunter pulled the bottle from his lips and stared at the smiling man.

  ‘How can I ever thank you, señor?’ the nobleman asked. ‘You have given me the most precious of gifts. You have given me my daughter back.’

  ‘Pablo helped.’

  ‘Pablo said that you left Running Wolf’s body back at his secret encampment,’ Don Jose said. ‘Why? I thought he was very valuable.’

  ‘I didn’t wanna scare those little gals.’ Iron Eyes took another mouthful of whiskey and then swallowed. ‘They were terrified enough after the shooting.’

  Don Jose was impressed. ‘You put the feelings of my Maria and the other captives before the reward money. I am eternally grateful.’

  Iron Eyes shrugged as he lit a cigar and inhaled its smoke. ‘Ain’t no need for gratitude, Fernandez. Just hand over those one hundred golden eagles you promised me.’

  Don Jose looked confused. ‘But your woman has the money, Señor Iron Eyes. I gave it to her as she told me.’

  Iron Eyes rose up and shook his head.

  ‘So she’s got the money up in that fancy room, huh?’ he asked as his eyes looked up at the second storey of the hacienda. ‘That gal never quits trying to corner me. I’d best go on up there and get my money.’

  Again, Don Jose looked confused by the statement.

  ‘No, señor. She is not in my hacienda,’ he said. ‘She has left here with the money.’

  ‘What?’ The bounty hunter raised a busted eyebrow as he stared long and hard at the Mexican. ‘Are you telling me that Squirrel has my golden eagles and has gone?’

  The nobleman nodded. ‘Sí, señor. Your Squirrel Sally had my vaqueros hitch up her stagecoach. She then put the money in it and drove off. She said she was headed north back to Texas.’

  Iron Eyes could feel his blood starting to boil as it travelled around his bruised and battered body. He paced around Don Jose silently for a few moments and then stopped. His icy stare focused on the older man as Fernandez began to move back into the hacienda.

  ‘When did she leave, Don Jose?’ he asked before taking a long draw on his cigar.

  ‘She came down from her room just after you and Pablo headed out,’ Don Jose informed Iron Eyes. ‘When I explained that you had just left, she seemed very unhappy. I do not think she liked the fact that you did not go to see her before you rode out to rescue my dear Maria.’

  ‘Gracious.’ Iron Eyes watched as Don Jose entered the hacienda. The sound of happiness filled the air as he turned and led the tall horse toward the stables.

  As he reached the fragrant building, a vaquero walked toward him and accepted the reins from the bounty hunter. As the man went to lead the horse into the stables, Iron Eyes cleared his throat and caused the man to stop and look at him.

  ‘Is anything wrong, señor?’ the vaquero wondered.

  ‘Nope,’ Iron Eyes replied after downing another gulp of whiskey. ‘Take my saddle and bags off this nag and put it on my palomino stallion.’

  ‘You are going somewhere?’

  With the cigar gripped between his teeth, Iron Eyes sighed heavily.

  ‘Yep, I sure am,’ he said. ‘I’m chasing a certain gal on a stagecoach.’

  ‘I understand.’ The vaquero grinned widely and winked at the bounty hunter. ‘You are going after the woman you love. It is so romantic that you would chase your woman to the ends of the earth.’

  Iron Eyes shook his head.

  ‘Nope. I’m going after my one hundred golden eagles, friend.’ He corrected. ‘Squirrel’s gonna get her rump kicked when I catch that thieving female.’

  Iron Eyes Unchained

  Rory Black

  ROBERT HALE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The blistering heat of Mexico was far behind the emaciated horseman as he continued to follow the trail left by the feisty female he called Squirrel Sally. Young Sally Cooke had learned well from her mentor and knew every trick in the book of how to keep one step ahead of the gaunt horseman. Sally was teaching Iron Eyes a lesson. After months of tracking him, now he had to track her. She was only too aware that the infamous bounty hunter would not have even bothered to give chase if she had not pocketed his one hundred fresh-minted golden eagles before setting out on her battered stagecoach.

  Iron Eyes had ignored her for far too long and she had to get his attention and teach him a lesson. As she cracked her bullwhip above the heads of her six-horse team she knew t
hat nothing focused the mind of the devilish bounty hunter like money.

  His money.

  The beautiful youngster had outwitted Iron Eyes and absconded with the precious hundred golden eagles he had earned by saving the life of Don Luis Fernandez’s daughter over a month earlier. Notorious bounty hunter Iron Eyes had courageously laid his very life on the line and ridden into the secret stronghold of the Apache rebel Running Wolf in order to pluck the little girl from his clutches.

  Yet upon returning to the hacienda of the Mexican nobleman with not only Fernandez’s daughter but also a handful of other female captives in tow, Iron Eyes discovered that Sally had told Don Jose that she was his betrothed and taken the small fortune and fled upon her stagecoach.

  Sally knew that stealing his hard-earned money was sure to get her the attention she craved from the man she was besotted with. Although most folks were terrified to even look at the mutilated features of Iron Eyes, Sally saw something else in his face. It was as though she had the ability to see beneath the brutal scars that covered his face and body. Sally was able to see the real Iron Eyes hidden deep in the depths of his tortured persona.

  With the expertise that she had learned from the master hunter himself, Sally had evaded Iron Eyes far longer than even she had considered possible. Days had turned into weeks, which soon became over a month and yet the infamous man, known to many as the living ghost, was no closer to his goal.

  Squirrel Sally had used the terrain to her advantage and guided her six-horse team on a path that even the bounty hunter found hard to track. Iron Eyes was riled by the perky young female’s actions but in truth he was far angrier with himself than he could ever be with her.

  Sally had done exactly as he would have done. She had beaten him to the punch and taken the money and ridden north just as he intended to do. The sly Sally had outwitted him yet again.

  What angered Iron Eyes the most was that he had forsaken the large reward on the Apache rebel and left Running Wolf to rot where he had killed him.

  The one hundred golden eagles that Don Jose had promised Iron Eyes seemed more than ample to compensate for losing the high bounty offered by the US Army. It would have been if his annoying female follower had not intercepted it. Yet like a hound on the trail of a racoon, he could not quit his hunting.

  The skeletal rider had already crossed the Arizona territory and still had not caught even a glimpse of the golden-haired Sally or her unusual choice of vehicle. The arid landscape was far behind Iron Eyes and now he was entering a terrain that was unfamiliar to him. Snow-capped mountain peaks rose in the distance unlike anything Iron Eyes had ever seen before. Between the head of his sturdy palomino stallion and the rocky peaks, a sea of trees faced him.

  Iron Eyes knew that he was still on her trail but for the life of him could not understand where Squirrel Sally was leading him. This was not a place where the gaunt hunter of men felt comfortable.

  His narrowed eyes darted around him in search of the numerous dangers his guts were telling him might be behind every tree. His bony fingers teased his reins as the tall stallion trotted ever onward.

  ‘I don’t like this place, horse,’ he muttered as his long skeletal fingers teased the pair of Navy Colts poking their grips from behind his belt buckle. ‘It ain’t healthy. Where the hell is Squirrel leading me?’

  The massive palomino beneath the scarred figure had not put a foot wrong in the weeks since its master had set out from Fernandez’s hacienda, yet even it was showing signs of weariness.

  Iron Eyes knew that if he did not catch up with the impish female soon, he was going to have to stop and allow his powerful mount to recover from its unceasing labours. Unlike all of his previous mounts, the ruthless bounty hunter prized this animal. The golden stallion had a turn of foot that Iron Eyes knew had saved his bacon on more than one occasion. The last thing he wanted was for the palomino to drop dead beneath its ornate Mexican saddle.

  Iron Eyes knew that horses like his golden stallion would keep running until their hearts burst. This was no place to be without a horse, he thought. The scarred face of the bounty hunter glanced around the trail through which he was riding.

  A million trees flanked the twenty foot wide trail that his mount was trotting along. Iron Eyes pulled back on his long leathers and halted the lathered-up stallion. The thankful animal snorted long and hard as the bounty hunter glanced around the scene. When satisfied that there was no immediate danger, he threw his long leg over the horse’s cream-coloured mane and slid to the ground.

  The tall, lean figure rested his hands on his gun grips as his icy stare looked around the area. His honed instincts surveyed the area like a ravenous mountain lion seeking out its prey in readiness of striking yet there was nothing to alert the bounty hunter. No matter how hard he strained to locate the potential danger he was certain was out there, he could neither see nor hear anything. Finally he relaxed and glanced at the weary horse beside his bony shoulder.

  ‘This place troubles me, horse,’ he admitted.

  The stallion nodded its head up and down as though in agreement. The almost white mane floated in the crisp air like the sails of a clipper.

  Iron Eyes knelt and brushed the sandy ground with the palm of his bony hand and read every detail. The deep wheel grooves left by the stagecoach were still in pristine condition since Sally had driven her stagecoach this way. Iron Eyes rose back up to his full height and shook his head. He was utterly frustrated by the fact that the young female who he refused to admit caring for, was still winning this game of cat and mouse. He kicked at the dust.

  ‘Damn it all,’ he cursed. ‘Squirrel is even tougher to catch than she is to shake off.’

  Iron Eyes checked the canteens hanging from the ornate silver saddle horn until he located one still full of water and then removed it. He stood and unscrewed its stopper before removing the sombrero he had been wearing since leaving Mexico. He placed it at the stallion’s feet and filled its bowl with the warm liquid.

  ‘Drink up, horse,’ he said as he returned the stopper to the canteen and then hung it back against the palomino’s sturdy shoulders.

  As the horse obeyed, Iron Eyes pulled a long slim cigar from his pocket and bit off its tip. He spat at the sand and then poked it between his teeth and searched for a match in his deep, bullet-filled pockets.

  His thumbnail scratched the surface of the match. As it ignited into flame he cupped it in his hands and filled his lungs with smoke.

  A million thoughts flashed through his mind as they had done since he had first set out after the stagecoach. So many thoughts of what he was going to do when he caught up with the elusive little Sally. They had grown with every passing day of his vain pursuit until he could no longer remember them all. All he knew for sure was that he intended to kick her rump, but was beginning to doubt that he would ever get the chance.

  Had it not been for the one hundred golden eagles she had pocketed, he would not have given chase. At least that was what he told himself as smoke drifted from his mouth and hung in the morning air.

  Iron Eyes watched the horse drink and then concentrated on the forest which surrounded him. As he inhaled on the cigar, he once again wondered why this place seemed different to any other he had ever travelled through.

  He had grown to adulthood in a forest but it was nothing like this one, he mused. He scratched his cheek with his thumbnail and looked all around him. The trees looked nothing like those he had seen in other places. There was something strange about this place, he thought. An eerie trepidation gnawed at his craw as he stood beside the drinking horse and brooded. Smoke drifted from his mouth as he continued to glance over the shoulders of his high-shouldered mount.

  ‘That silly little Squirrel is headed into something damn dangerous by my figuring, horse,’ he said dryly and then glancing along the wide trail carved through the ocean of trees. ‘We’d better find that cantankerous gal before somebody else does.’

  He shivered and then noticed that
the stallion had finished drinking and raised its handsome head.

  Iron Eyes scooped the sombrero up and shook it before returning it to his mane of long black hair. He lifted the stirrup and tightened the cinch strap before lowering the fender and reaching to the shinning saddle horn.

  He lifted his left leg, poked the pointed toe of his mule-eared boot into the stirrup and pulled his lean frame off the ground. His long right leg cleared the cantle and then found the other stirrup.

  ‘I don’t like this place, horse,’ he said in a low drawl as he gathered the reins in his bony hands. ‘I sure hope Squirrel don’t lead me into trouble. I’ve had my fill of trouble.’

  Iron Eyes looked around the area for the umpteenth time and sighed heavily. He prepared to continue on his quest and leaned back against his saddle cantle.

  ‘Git moving, horse,’ he rasped.

  Suddenly without warning the ear-splitting sound of a shot rang out and echoed all around the area. The bounty hunter flinched and stared in bewilderment at the tree tops as hundreds of surprised birds rose up into the morning sky and flew in all directions.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The muscular horse spooked. It required every ounce of Iron Eyes’ strength to hold the startled palomino stallion in check as the unexpected sound slowly evaporated. Then another equally startling shot resonated and washed over the countless trees. The wide-eyed horse rose up and kicked out at the air as though battling some unseen force. Iron Eyes clung on to his massive mount as it stood on its hind legs and punched its hoofs at the morning air. The bounty hunter was almost unseated as the stallion came down heavily.

  The narrowed eyes of the skeletal horseman darted around the trees for a mere hint of gunsmoke which might betray where the shooter was. Yet no matter how hard he squinted into the morning sunshine, he saw nothing.