ARKANSAS SMITH II: THE TUMBLEWEED TRAIL

by Jack Martin

  The young girl didn’t struggle at all and seemed calm, positively surreal as she clutched Miss Sally in her arms.

  ‘Don’t look like we have a choice,’ Arkansas answered. ‘I’m warning you. Do not harm the girl.’

  ‘The girl is safe,’ Brady said. ‘And if there’s no tricks then she’ll stay safe. You have my word. She’ll be left unmolested at the forest.’

  ‘Looks like we got no option but to trust you,’

  ‘Then we’re coming down.’

  Jake came over and, using his crutch for support stood next to Arkansas. He looked at the remains of the wagon and shook his head. It was beyond repair. Not that it really mattered now. All that mattered was getting Lucy back unharmed.

  ‘Stay calm,’ Arkansas whispered. ‘Whatever you do don’t try and go to Lucy. Let them go by.’

  Jake nodded, said nothing.

  ‘Go back to your family,’ Arkansas said. ‘Keep them calm also. You may have to restrain your woman as soon as she sees her daughter’s face.’

  Jake didn’t argue but immediately turned on his feet and limped back over to his wife and children. He sat himself down on a rock, dropped his rifle and hugged Ellie-May tightly.

  ‘Let them go past,’ he said, speaking to his wife and children. ‘We’ll get Lucy back. I promise you that.’

  ‘Jake,’ Ellie-May said, her words wrapped around her sobs. ‘My little girl.’

  ‘We’ll get her,’ Jake repeated.

  And now Brady and his men were coming down the banking towards them. Brady was in the lead; Lucy sat on the saddle in front of him, held firm by one massive arm around her waist. In his other hand the bandit held a modified Sharps Big Fifty, the hammer cocked. They rode in single file with the remaining four members of his gang following behind. At the rear of the procession rode Flightless Eagle.

  The Indian looked Arkansas directly in the eye.

  There was the hint of great respect on Flightless Eagle’s face.

  ‘Nice of you to oblige,’ Brady said as he drew level with Arkansas.

  Arkansas had to fight back the strong urge to pull his gun and chance a shot at Brady, blow him out of the saddle and then get to the girl before anyone had a chance to react. He knew that if he did so it would mean the end of Brady and his gang because Emery and the posse would immediately open fire also, but it was all too risky and he wouldn’t gamble with Lucy’s life. If Brady set that big old Sharps on her she would be blown into pieces tiny enough to float on the wind.

  ‘I’ll settle with you later,’ was all Arkansas said.

  Brady pulled his horse to a stop and looked down at Arkansas, a smile spread clean across his ugly face.

  ‘There won’t be a later my friend,’ he replied and started his horse off. As he rode past the Preston family he smiled at them also, and tipped his hat to Ellie-May. ‘Your child will be safe,’ he said.

  ‘Please don’t hurt her,’ Ellie-May stammered.

  ‘You have my word,’ Brady said as if he were the child’s uncle taking her out for a ride rather than an outlaw holding her captive. Lucy, for her part, sat calmly in his arms and didn’t even look at her mother and instead kept her eyes on her doll. She seemed perfectly fine but was obviously suffering from some kind of shock after her ordeal. It tugged at Ellie-May’s heart to see her little girl riding off with the bandit but she welled up all her strength and managed to stand steadfast, comforting her other children.

  The posse, led by the marshal was riding towards them and Brady cast an eye over his shoulder and saw the four riders approaching. He looked directly at Arkansas and darkness came over his eyes.

  ‘They could make me jumpy,’ he said. ‘My finger might slip on the trigger.’

  ‘They won’t attack,’ Arkansas said. ‘They know the situation.’ He turned and held up a hand to slow Emery down. The last thing he wanted was for Brady to get jumpy, not with him holding the girl.

  ‘Then adios,’ Brady said and started his horse off into a gallop, his men following behind.

  Twenty-Three

  ‘You stay with these people.’ Arkansas said, addressing the marshal. ‘You continue towards the forest at a steady pace. Just plod along as if you’re out for a peaceful afternoon’s ride.’

  ‘And what are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to get ahead of Brady, ‘ Arkansas said. ‘I’ll surprise them when they enter the forest. As soon as I get the girl I’ll let off two shots in succession, hold for ten seconds and then let off another. That’ll be the signal for you to ride like the wind. It ends today.’

  ‘That’s all very well,’ Dan Kane said and bit off a chunk of chewing tobacco. ‘But how are you going to get in front of Brady’s lot without them seeing you?’

  ‘There,’ Arkansas said, pointing to the banking. ‘I’ll ride up over the crest. Come at the forest from the south. I should be able to get there without Brady noticing me.’

  Jake stood besides Arkansas and when he spoke it was directly to the man. He ignored the rest of the posse as if they were not present.

  ‘Please,’ was all he said.

  Arkansas nodded.

  ‘Trust me,’ he said and whistled for his horse. The sorrel immediately appeared and galloped down the banking where it had been grazing on the long grasses. It immediately came over to Arkansas and nudged its owner with its nose. Arkansas checked his saddle to see that it was still secure and satisfied he patted the horse and mounted up.

  ‘Round up these folk’s horses,’ Arkansas said. ‘Salvage what you can from the wagon and give it an hour before setting off. Keep riding at a steady pace and don’t speed up until you get my signal.’

  ‘An hour’s an awful long time,’ the marshal protested.

  ‘ Brady will be far enough away by then that if he looks back he won’t see I’m missing,’ Arkansas replied.

  ‘Just how do you think you’ll get my girl?’ Jake asked. ‘You’re just one man.’

  ‘Brady’ll be true to his word,’ Arkansas said. ‘As soon as he leaves her at the forest I’ll get to her and send the signal.’

  ‘And if he isn’t true to his word?’ Ellie-May asked.

  ‘Then I’ll take her,’ there was a strength in Arkansas’s words and despite the situation no one doubted that he could do what he said.

  Sarah broke free of her mother’s grasp and calmly walked over to Arkansas. She stood beside his horse, patted the creature and looked up, staring directly into Arkansas’s eyes.

  ‘Save my sister Mr Tumbleweed,’ she said. It was the first time she had addressed Arkansas as Tumbleweed, as if the faith her sister felt had somehow been transferred to her, but no one really noticed and no one said anything.

  Arkansas smiled. ‘She’ll be eating dinner with you,’ he said and then cast a look towards Jake and the rest of his family, nodding to them. Then he kicked his horse off and sent the magnificent beast climbing the banking.

  Arkansas went some distance before turning the horse and starting towards the forest. He had gone maybe a quarter of a mile when he heard the sound of a horse coming up fast behind him. There was a large patch of scrub to his left and he guided his horse into it and positioned himself out of sight while he waited for the rider to come into view.

  Arkansas held one of his Colts at the ready while he waited for whoever it was. He wondered if Jake had followed him, but he was sure the marshal would have kept them all together. Still, he supposed, Jake was worried frantic about his daughter and he guessed that could be a powerful motivator. Maybe the man had broken away and the marshal and the remainder of the posse had been unable to stop him.

  Arkansas didn’t have to wait too long for the answer.

  He saw an Indian; one of those who had rode with Brady come galloping down the trail towards him. The Indian was low in the saddle, his head almost level with that of his steed, as he concentrated on the landscape ahead.

  Arkansas waited until the Indian was almost level with him and then suddenly spurred his ow
n horse forward, causing the other horse to rear up and throw his rider.

  Arkansas pointed his gun directly at the Indian.

  Kicking Horse was momentarily stunned and it took a few moments for him to recover from his fall, but when he did he looked up at the man on horseback and smiled.

  ‘You are everywhere,’ he said.

  Arkansas grinned back. ‘Well I’m here sure enough.’

  The Indian was both unharmed and unarmed. He had been carrying a rifle but it was still in the saddle boot of his horse.

  Arkansas set his own horse gently towards the Indians horse and reached out and grabbed the creature’s reins. He pulled it towards him and then reached over and slid the rifle out of its boot and placed it across his lap. He already had his Winchester in his own boot but the extra rifle may come in handy when he went up against Brady and his men.

  ‘What are you going to do to me?’ Kicking Horse asked.

  ‘I’m setting you on foot,’ Arkansas said. ‘Either that or I kill you. It’s your choice.’

  ‘You take my horse?’

  ‘Yep, that’s pretty much the way it is.’

  ‘You are going after Brady?’ the Indian asked.

  ‘I am,’ Arkansas said. ‘And I don’t need you alerting him.’ He cocked his Colt and squared it up right between the Indian’s eyes. ‘It’s your choice,’ he repeated.

  ‘Go,’ Kicking Horse said. ‘I will sit here for some time and ponder things.’

  ‘Ponder things?’

  ‘ Ponder the fact that I am growing old and too easy to surprise. Ponder on the fact that you are no ordinary man and I have no wish to fight you.’

  Arkansas grinned. He knew very well what the Indians thought of him.

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ he said and immediately set his horse off into a gallop, dragging the Indian’s mount behind him. He’d set it free after a few miles, when he was far enough away for him to reach Brady before the Indian had a chance of recovering the animal and catching up with him. Not that he had much to fear from the Indian who was completely without arms, but he had spent enough time with Indians over the years to know it never did to underestimate their ingenuity.

  Kicking Horse watched Arkansas until the man was just a speck in the distance.

  ‘Bad medicine,’ he said and stood up and started walking.

  Twenty-Four

  Concealed, the sorrel tethered to a tree beside him, Arkansas watched as Brady approached the forest.

  The bandit reached the tree line and then stopped dead, casting a glance over his shoulder at the party following him. To the bandit’s eyes, Arkansas knew that, they were visible only as tiny spots on the horizon. There was no way that Brady would be able to count them and realise that Arkansas was not with them.

  ‘Come on,’ Brady said to the girl, his voice was almost gentle, child-like. ‘You wait here for your ma and pa.’ He lowered the girl gently to the ground.

  ‘You’re letting her go?’ Jim Carter asked.

  ‘I said I would,’ Brady looked at his men in turn, waiting for any of them to protest but no one did and so he turned his attention back to Lucy. ‘You wait here,’ he said. ‘Your folks will not be very long. You see over there?’ Brady pointed towards the specks on the horizon.

  They were so far distant they could have been specks of dust.

  Lucy looked and nodded.

  ‘Well that’s your parents, girl. You just wait here for them and they’ll be here before you know it.’

  Lucy nodded again, clutching Miss Sally to her chest and smiled at the bandit. Despite all she had been through she obviously bore no ill feeling towards Brady. She couldn’t understand that he was bad, knew nothing of the desperate deeds and wrongs that had to be tallied for.

  All the little girl knew was that the man had treated her kindly.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said.

  ‘Goodbye.’ Brady said and ordered his men to follow him as he led the trail into forest, where daylight suddenly became dusk.

  Arkansas watched all this without moving an inch. Nor did he move when Brady and his men passed him by. At one point they were less than twenty feet away and yet they saw nothing. He waited for them to get ahead some and then dismounted and led his horse to where Lucy sat cross legged on the ground. He bent to her and smiled and then lifted her, placing her in the saddle of his sorrel.

  She looked positively tiny on the back of the magnificent creature.

  ‘Now hold on, Lucy. Old Red here’s gonna’ take you back to your folks.’ He then slapped the well-trained horse on the rump and it set off at a steady speed. It may sound absurd but the horse was seemingly aware of the need to keep the little girl on its back. The horse would take her straight to her parents, of that Arkansas had no doubt.

  He watched the horse head back along the valley and then turned and walked into the forest.

  The forest was dense, there were trees upon trees and a man could move faster on foot than mounted. It was easier to negotiate the various obstacles on foot and it was not long before Arkansas saw Brady and his men as they weaved their mounts around one tree and then another.

  Arkansas pulled a Colt and fired into the air.

  ‘Stop and throw down your arms, he shouted.

  Brady and his gang listened to the first part of the command but they took no heed of the second, and before they had even dismounted they returned fire. Arkansas ducked, feeling the hot air as a slug passed perilously close to his left shoulder. He fired quickly and saw Jim Carter blown sideways out of the saddle.

  A sudden hail of lead answered as the oversized Sharps sounded and Arkansas dove for a thick spruce, bark spat up in his face as a slug tore into the wood. He fired again and this time he saw Tommy tumble backwards, clutching his stomach, trying to prevent his guts seeping out from between his fingers.

  Arkansas saw the fat man they called Chuck aim a scattergun and he fired simultaneously with the roar of the gun. He saw Chuck thrown backwards as the top of his head exploded, but yelled in pain himself when several tiny balls of red hot lead from the scattergun embedded themselves in his right arm; his shooting arm.

  Arkansas fell to the ground and moaned when the air was forced from him. His injured hand couldn’t grip the Colt and it fell from his paralysed fingers. He noticed the Indian mount up and gallop off, Brady cursing him as he did so.

  And then everything went hazy and for a moment Arkansas saw only blackness as he fought the urge to let go and allow the approaching blackness to take him.

  ‘You dead yet?’ Brady shouted from the tree he his behind.

  ‘Hardly,’ Arkansas answered and struggled to his feet. He may have had only one working hand but he sure wasn’t going to go down just yet. ‘Show yourself, Brady,’ he shouted and then he did indeed black out, his knees buckling beneath him as he fell to the ground.

  For how long he had been unconscious Arkansas couldn’t be sure, but he felt it was only seconds. Feeling had returned to his injured hand and the pain was immense. He looked up and saw Brady standing over him. The bandit pointed the ugly eye of he Sharps directly at his face.

  ‘You keep coming,’ Brady said. ‘You keep coming until you are killed.’ The bandit stepped on Arkansas’s injured arm and worked his heel into the wound, sending a blizzard of sheer agony through Arkansas’s entire nervous system.

  Arkansas gritted his teeth against the pain, he wasn’t going to allow himself to scream out and he most certainly wasn’t going to pass out again. If this were it for him, if death was to come now at the hands of this cheap bandit, then he would face it head on.

  ‘Adios Arkansas Smith,’ Brady said and smiled. He took aim with the big old Sharps that looked like a canon to Arkansas.

  Such was the ringing in Arkansas’s ears that he didn’t hear the low growl of the wolf, nor was he sure what had happened when the creature, driven half mad by the tornado, ravenous at the scent of blood in the air, leapt at Brady, attaching its powerful jaw, filled with razor sharp teeth
to the man’s chest.

  Brady was thrown backwards, the wolf tearing frantically at his flesh. The animal’s muzzle dripped with warm blood as it tore at the man. Brady shot but it was more a reflex action than an attempt at fighting back, for the wolf had already bitten deep into his throat, tearing bone deep, and he was already dead.

  Arkansas stumbled to his feet and gazed at the horrific scene before him. The wolf continued to gouge on the man and it didn’t look up from its grizzly feast as Arkansas backed away into the forest.

  From the diary of Ellie-May Preston

  As I write it’s been more than a year since we arrived in Kansas City but I remember it as if it were but a few moments ago. That ride across the valley towards the great forest was the longest I had ever endured and should ever hope to, but our hearts were lifted when we saw our beloved Lucy coming towards us on the back of that magnificent horse owned by Arkansas Smith. She seemed unconcerned and indeed unaware of what had happened. I scooped her into my arms and feeling that I would never let her go again, I cried tears of sheer joy.

  There was no sign of Arkansas Smith when we reached the forest, nor did we ever see him again though we still hear stories of him from time to time.

  The strange thing was that the grizzly sight that greeted us, besides the dead bodies of the outlaw gang was that of their leader. I did not look myself but I overheard Jake talking to the others. Apparently he had been torn apart and when the men had found him there had been a lone wolf standing over the body.

  The wolf had run off as soon as we approached.

  We searched all over for Arkansas but there was no sign that he had ever been there. It was as if, like the mythical Tumbleweed, he had vanished into thin air or transformed himself into an animal of the forest, a wolf perhaps, and vanished into the wilderness.

  After awhile we had no option but to push onwards, the marshal and the posse would accompany us for the rest of our journey. But there were more strange events to come and that very night Arkansas’s horse had broken away from the others while we slept and come morning it too had vanished forever.