Dusty Fog's Civil War 11

by J. T. Edson

  Bypassing Rosita O’Malley’s posada shortly before the Kid arrived, they pushed on a further two miles and made camp. Next morning, following Eve’s orders, they continued to go west along the banks of the river. They travelled fast, changing horses as needed. Visiting various gathering-places for the criminal element, Kraus reported on the lack of men present. Twice the party were halted and challenged by armed gangs, to be let pass after establishing their identity. On one occasion they fought off a bunch of Mexicans who objected to another party apparently on the trail of Ysabel and the money. At Nuevo Laredo, Kraus went into town with one of his men while Eve and the remainder stayed outside. He returned with news that both the French and Juaristas were interested in the gold, adding more searchers for Ysabel and the Rebel Spy.

  At noon on the day after passing Nuevo Laredo, the party met up with the launch flotilla and its commanding officer reported on his activities. He had taken his command along the river as far as Piedras Negras, returning without the Texas citizens of Eagle Pass learning of their presence. Telling the officer of her plans, Eve arranged for him to patrol between Piedras Negras and Nuevo Laredo. Then, if they received word about Ysabel and Belle Boyd reaching Klatwitter, it could be acted upon without waste of time.

  While Eve was conversing with the U.S. Navy lieutenant, she saw Kraus talking to Golly. The two men stood clear of the others and she noticed that Golly pointed across to the Texas bank of the river. When questioned, Kraus said that he and Golly had discussed the chances of meeting with Texan opposition.

  Leaving the flotilla to complete taking on wood for fuel, the party continued its journey. The day went by without incident, so did the next until the late afternoon. By that time they had come close to the town of Nava, although still sticking to the river. As usual Kraus had men ahead as scouts. With the proximity of the danger area, he used two instead of the usual one scout and they returned in some haste. Then followed a conversation in Spanish so rapid that neither Eve nor Ffauldes could follow it. Eve caught one word, ‘Danvila’, probably because it came several times and was spoken with some feeling.

  “What’s wrong. Mr. Kraus?” she asked.

  “We’ve got to turn back,” he replied. “There’s a big bunch of Juaristas up ahead.”

  “We’ve no quarrel with them,” Eve stated. “And I’ve a letter from our consul in Matamoros explaining our presence.”

  “Maybe you won’t get time to show it,” Kraus pointed out.

  “Very well. We’ll go and make camp by the river until the flotilla comes by.” Eve decided. “With two cannon and a Gatling gun at our backs, they’ll listen.”

  A point with which Kraus could not argue. In fact he seemed more cheerful at being reminded of the flotilla’s assault armament. As she had never seen one, Amy-Jo had failed to identify the six-barreled, .58 caliber Gatling gun the lieutenant’s launch carried in place of the usual 12-pounder boat howitzer. Such weapons, especially the Gatling gun, would impress the Juaristas and make them amenable to discussion.

  Raising no more objections. Kraus led the way farther upstream until finding a suitable campsite. Tired from the hard, long journey, Eve removed her boots and rolled fully-dressed into her blankets. She fell asleep almost immediately and deeply. Just how deeply she discovered on waking.

  The morning sun hung just above the horizon as she sat up and reached to where her boots should be. Then her sleep-slowed mind registered that something must be wrong. She heard Mexican voices, which did not in itself surprise her for few of Kraus’ men spoke English. What came as a surprise was the high-pitched tones of women mingled with the voices of the men. At the same moment she became aware that her boots no longer stood by the bed.

  Jerking upright, Eve stared around her. There was no sign of Kraus and his men. Instead half-a-dozen well-armed, hard-faced men in vaquero dress and two pretty young women stood around the camp. One of the women was drawing on Eve’s boots, while the other petulantly watched a man upending Eve’s saddlebags.

  “If you look for Charlie, señorita,” said the tallest of the men, walking towards Eve. “He’s gone.”

  “Who are you?” she demanded, glancing to where Ffauldes was sitting covered by one of the newcomers’ rifle.

  “Joaquin Sandos, señorita,” the man replied. “Didn’t Charlie speak about me, or tell you his fellers saw Pancho there yesterday and know we come looking for him?”

  “He didn’t. Why do you want to see him?”

  “He not tell you much, señorita. Didn’t he say how I’m Cosme Danvila’s segundo?” Sandos asked. “Him and Cosme, they not good friends since Charlie shoot Cosme’s brother and leave his sister with a little niño. I never think to see Charlie this far west. Unless he hear that Cosme across the river in Texas on—business.”

  “I see,” Eve said quietly.

  Which she did. Clearly Kraus had only accompanied her that far because Golly had brought him word of his enemy’s absence. She remembered the pointing across the river when they met the flotilla. Then Kraus must have learned the previous afternoon that not all Danvila’s band had gone on the raid. The story about a Juarista force had been fabricated as an excuse to turn back. Probably Kraus was hoping for the arrival of the flotilla. When it did not come, or possibly because he had learned that Sandos’ party was drawing near, Kraus slipped away with his men. Eve could even understand why he had deserted her. Neither she nor Ffauldes could handle horses quietly in the dark, or stand up to a hard, fast flight. So, to Kraus’ practical way of thinking, leaving them behind offered the only solution.

  “Maybe Charlie leave her as a presen’ for Cosme.” suggested the man searching Eve’s belongings.

  “No. He was guiding me to El Paso,” Eve answered. “My husband is in the army there.”

  “You not a Tejano, señorita; and you don’t wear a wedding ring,” Sandos pointed out. “And there’re no soldiers at El Paso.”

  “She’s an important member of the United States Government,” Ffauldes put in. “So am I. Show them that letter from the consul, Miss Coniston.”

  “Can I?” Eve inquired and, receiving Sandos’ nod, took the letter from the pocket of her divided skirt.

  However, if the way Sandos examined the sheet of paper was anything to go by, he could not read the consul’s request that Eve be given free passage through to El Paso.

  “You got ’nother pair of boots, señorita?” Sandos asked, thrusting the paper into his pocket. “Rosa and Juanita never had any before and Rosa wants a pair.”

  “Look, mister!” Ffauldes put in, standing up and showing that he was not wearing a gun. “She’s real important, but I’m not.”

  “Shut your mouth!” Eve hissed and then smiled at Sandos. “I’m not important at all.”

  “Is a pity if you’re not, señorita. If you not Charlie’s amante, sweetheart you call him, maybe somebody pay good to get you back.”

  “You can bet they’ll pay to get her back!” Ffauldes agreed eagerly. “There’re three small steam boats on the river. If you let me go to them, they’ll take me to Matamoros and I’ll bring you the money.”

  “I’ll just bet you will!” Eve hissed.

  “The señorita she don’ trust you, hombre,” Sandos remarked.

  “What have I to lose?” Ffauldes spat back. “Let me go to the boats and I’ll arrange everything.”

  “Go get on your horse, señor,” Sandos ordered. Without as much as a glance at Eve, Ffauldes started to obey. Sandos nodded as Ffauldes walked towards the two horses left by Kraus. Even as Eve opened her mouth to scream a warning, two rifles cracked. Lead ripped into Ffauldes’ back and he sprawled face down on the ground. Letting her breath out in a gasp, Eve tried to go towards the stricken man.

  “I think he wouldn’t’ve come back, señorita,” Sandos remarked, stopping her. “He look like my Uncle Sebastian and he one big liar. Will anybody pay to get you back?”

  For a moment Eve did not reply. Then she realized that her only chance of staying
alive would be to answer in the affirmative. Resistance would be futile, so she decided to go along with what might offer her a hope of escape.

  “Yes. They’ll pay to get me back. Or the authorities over the border will give you money for me. I’m a United States agent. If you look for the boats, they’ll go at top speed to Brownsville for the money.”

  “You a spy for the Estados Unidos, heh?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you tell the truth this time. But it for Cosme to say what we do with you.”

  “Is Señor Danvila hunting for Sam Ysabel?” Eve inquired, suddenly realizing that Sandos had not mentioned the matter.

  “Nobody goes hunting for Big Sam, señorita,” Sandos replied. “Not if they want to stay alive.”

  “Even if he has fifteen thousand dollars in gold with him?”

  “You make the joke with Sandos, no?”

  “I’m not joking, señor. Ysabel and the Rebel Spy, a girl, are taking the gold to the French general at Nava.”

  “Maybe they won’t get it there,” Sandos grinned.

  “Why don’t you go and find them?” Eve asked.

  “With six men?” Sandos scoffed and spoke to his companions.

  Eve judged that he was telling them the news and all seemed to find the latter part highly amusing.

  “If you don’t believe me, send one of your men along the river to find the boats,” Eve said. “They will tell him, the sailors. Or he could go to Pasear Hennessey’s cantina. Kraus’ man, Golly, came up river with the boats to tell everybody about Big Sam and the money.”

  “Nobody from Charlie Kraus would come near us, señorita,” Sandos replied. “We take you to our camp and I send for Cosme. He say what we do.”

  They mounted Eve on the sorriest of their horses when ready to move out, one which looked incapable of outrunning a turtle in its sway-backed, gaunt-ribbed condition. Gathering up all they wanted and hiding Ffauldes’ stripped body in the bushes, the men and girls surrounded Eve and rode off. Instead of sticking to the river’s bank, they rode parallel to it but some distance away. However the country was open enough for Eve to see the water and she scanned it eagerly in the hope of seeing the flotilla.

  Manned by veterans of the Mississippi Squadron, who carried Navy Colts, cutlasses and Spencer carbines in addition to the cannons and Gatling gun, the three launches held the means of her escape. Although sailors, the crews knew plenty about land fighting and, if they heard of her capture, might contrive a rescue.

  “Look!” one of the men said, pointing towards the river.

  The three launches came into sight, going upstream. Instantly the Mexicans gathered closer about Eve and a knife’s point pricked against her ribs. Wisely she kept quiet and the launches went by without knowing of her presence. Then Sandos grinned at her.

  “You behave good, señorita and I think maybe you tell the truth.”

  Riding on, the Mexicans kept a watch behind them but the launches did not return. The river curved through a valley at that point, the Texas shore rising plainly on the other side. Down below Eve, thick clumps of bushes grew down to the water’s edge, interspersed with open patches of sandy beach that would be bays and back-waters in time of flood. Ahead the country became more open than ever and the bushes ended on a large patch of open beach.

  A horse whinnied from among the bushes, the sound chopping off as if stopped in some way. Immediately the party came to a halt. An order from Sandos sent three of the men riding cautiously towards the source of the sound and the other three held rifles ready for use. Not that Eve saw a chance to escape, for the two girls flanked her holding knives ready for use.

  Suddenly a rider burst into view, racing down the slope towards the river. Eve bit down a startled exclamation at the sight. Dressed in male clothing, with black hair cropped boyishly short, the rider was without doubt a woman. Unless Eve missed her guess, it was the woman, the Rebel Spy.

  Flame ripped from one of the advancing trio’s rifle and the fleeing woman’s horse went down, pitching her from its saddle. She landed sprawling on the soft sand and, before she had recovered, the three men advanced surrounding her. Bending down, one of the three pulled the Dance Brothers revolver from her holster. Then he waved his companions to join him and the woman sat up.

  Eve sucked in a deep breath as she rode with the others down the slope. It seemed that the Rebel Spy had fallen into the Mexican bandidos’ hands. The problem facing Eve was what to do about it.

  Twelve – The Fort Is Under Attack

  “Lon’s coming, Miss Belle,” said Sam Ysabel, after making one of his periodic searches of their back-trail.

  Relief lay under the laconic tone and Belle mirrored the feeling. Almost three days had gone by since they left the O’Malley posada. After the first day, Ysabel clearly expected the Kid to arrive by the hour. Although he never mentioned it, the girl guessed that he felt a growing concern for his son’s safety as the time went by.

  Turning in her saddle, the girl looked back and saw only small, indistinct specks on the horizon. However she had seen enough of Ysabel to know that he would not make a mistake.

  “There’s more than one horse,” she said after a moment.

  “Mebbe Lon borrowed some from Rosy to ride relay,” Ysabel replied. “Only he’d’ve been along sooner if he had. He’s coming fast now.”

  “We’d best wait for him then,” Belle suggested.

  Nodding, Ysabel led the way to a clump of bushes. By the time they had halted in concealment, the blobs had come close enough for Belle to make out definite shapes. Ysabel saw far more. Enough to bring a low-voiced exclamation from his lips.

  “Well I’m damned!”

  “That’s more than likely,” smiled Belle, having grown to like and respect the big man during their journey. While he might lack many of the social graces, at no time had he acted in any but a proper manner towards her. “But why the sudden realization?”

  “If the boy ain’t wide-looped Bully Segan’s bayo-coyote hoss, I’ll be a Tejas Injun’s squaw.”

  “I don’t know the gentleman—not that I suppose he is a gentleman—but I’ll take your word that it is his horse.”

  “Bully won’t take happy to losing it,” Ysabel drawled. “That means—”

  Allowing the words to trail off, the big man made another of his careful searches of the surrounding country. Then he turned his attention to his son. No longer did the white stallion have black patches on its coat The bayo-coyote and the third horse showed signs of hard travel and use.

  “Howdy, boy,” Ysabel greeted as his son rode up.

  “Howdy, ap’,” the Kid replied, using the Comanche term for father. “Howdy, Miss Belle. Got me some antelope steaks for supper. Reckon we’d best be moving on.”

  “How about the horses, Lon?” Belle asked.

  “Hosses? Which hosses?” the Kid said innocently. “Oh, them hosses. I just happened on ’em.”

  “The Bully likely to be raising fuss about you ‘happening’ on to his bayo-coyote there?” Ysabel growled.

  “I’d say ‘no’ to that,” drawled the Kid, eyes darting around him as he spoke. “Seems he got to blaming Ramon Peraro for the hoss going missing. Damned if he didn’t try to do the blaming with a knife.”

  “Well doggie!” Ysabel ejaculated. “If that don’t beat all. So ole Bully won’t be coming along?”

  “Nor Ramon neither,” the Kid confirmed. “One of Bully’s boys had a mite more sense and started throwing lead. I don’t reckon Ramon’ll be riding for a spell. I’d’ve been along sooner, only a bunch of Juaristas got after me and I led ’em around for a spell afore losing ’em.”

  Which did not tell the entire story. Coming across the Juaristas without their knowledge, the Kid heard enough to know they hunted for his father and Belle. So he washed the stain from the white’s coat and allowed himself to be seen from a distance. Then he kept out of sight but left tracks for the men to follow. When sure they would be unable to catch up to his fat
her, he lost his pursuers and resumed his journey. Heading south, he located his father’s and Belle’s tracks at last and found them. Doing so cost him one of the horses stolen from Segan’s gang.

  “Saw some smoke this morning,” he went on. “Likely you couldn’t. Too much for just a camp fire. Figured I’d best catch up fast. Let’s go.”

  Used as she had become to Sam Ysabel’s caution, Belle could not help but notice how much more alert he seemed to be when they resumed the journey. She put it down to fears that Bully Segan, whoever he might be, was on their trail. Yet that did not explain why the Ysabels freed their buckskin saddleboots and rode with the rifles still encased but across their arms. Still pondering on their behavior, she turned to ask a question.

  “Drop behind us, Miss Belle!” the Kid said urgently. “And take these hosses.”

  “Wha—?” Belle began, accepting the reins of the spare mounts and pack horse which he thrust into her hands.

  “Do it, pronto!” Ysabel interrupted. “And whatever happens, stop back there. Don’t make a move or speak unless I tell you.”

  Although surprised at the man’s behavior, Belle obeyed. She knew they must have good reasons for their actions, so she neither asked questions nor raised snobbish points of social standing, rank or sex.

  For almost two minutes they rode on. Then, suddenly, the country before them became dotted with Indians. Squat, thick-set braves seemed to rise out of the ground, seated on their ponies and armed with a variety of weapons.

  Immediately the Kid gripped his rifle at the wrist of the butt and end of barrel, raising it above his head. A moment later Ysabel repeated the gesture and Belle became aware that neither of her escort had removed the covering from his rifle. Fighting down a desire to draw her Dance, the girl sat still and waited to see what developed.