Chapter 11
The fugitives had not gone far before the rugged climb became too much for Finn’s weakened body. The gritty Irishman tried to keep up the pace, but it was apparent to Bonnie that he was not going to make it much longer. She finally called for Black Otter to stop, and together they lifted Finn up on his horse. “I can walk,” he protested feebly.
“Like hell you can,” Bonnie said. “You’re just slowing us down, you and those damn mules.”
“Maybe so,” he said gamely. “But if it comes to a choice to leave one of us behind, I’ll wager it won’t be the mules.”
“Looks like you’re thinking straight,” she said with a chuckle. “You just worry about hanging on to that saddle. If you fall off, you won’t stop rolling till you reach the bottom of the mountain—and we don’t have time to go down to get you.”
Finn couldn’t help grinning at the aging prostitute’s bluster. He had seen enough of the tough-talking woman to determine that she was not all talk, and he was well aware that their little party would be a lot worse off without her courage. Her warning to stay in the saddle was not wasted upon him, however, for the barren rocky slope they had encountered above the tree line was a lot safer on foot than perched on a horse. Black Otter led Finn’s horse, with his mules on a line behind, followed by Bonnie and Lacey leading the other horses. It was easy to envision the catastrophe that could result from the slip of a hoof and the chaotic scene of a tangle of horses, people, and mules careening down the mountainside. The spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and the valley far below them were consequently wasted on the party desperate to escape with their lives. With no choice but to trust the Bannock warrior, who had mysteriously come to their aid, they trudged across the rugged shoulders of the mountain, their destination unknown. Every quarter hour or so, Lacey looked back behind them, hoping to see Adam appear until Bonnie finally told her to watch her footing and forget about Adam. “He can take care of himself,” she assured the young girl, but she was not without concern for the safety of their solemn protector.
When they reached a point where Bonnie felt she couldn’t climb any farther, Black Otter pointed toward a notch in the slope below them that appeared to be a gully leading down into the tree line. “Go down now,” he said.
“Well, hallelujah,” Bonnie replied, “I thought I was gonna have to crawl up on my horse, too.” Watching Finn grasping his saddle horn for fear his horse was going to slide during the steep descent, however, she was just as happy to be on foot.
Once they entered the mouth of the gully, their way was not so steep. Still, when watching their guide when he paused to determine the best path to take, they could see it was obvious that he had never led a horse along this trail before. His judgment proved sound, though, and before much longer, they were making their way down through the pines again, this time to a hogback that linked them with the neighboring mountain. Black Otter followed a game trail through a belt of pines so thick that it was dark as night at ground level. Still he pushed on, never slowing his pace until they emerged to find themselves entering a large meadow. Across the meadow, and down again through another belt of trees, they followed until on the opposite side of the second mountain. “Not far now,” he told Bonnie as they waited for Lacey to catch up. “There,” he said, and pointed to a spot across a narrow valley where a broad stream flowed down from the mountain. Bonnie and Finn strained to see what he was pointing to, but they could see nothing but more forest, although a thin ribbon of gray smoke wafted lazily up from the dark trees.
After descending to the valley floor, they were at last able to ride the horses, and Black Otter led them across to the base of the mountain where the stream turned and meandered in a crooked path down the valley. Only then did the three white strangers see the single tipi tucked back in a stand of fir trees. A woman working on a deer hide near the fire stopped and stood up when she saw the party approaching. Her first thought was to run, but then she saw that it was her husband leading the line of horses and mules. She then walked slowly out to meet them.
“Why do you bring the white people here?” Little Flower asked, at once alarmed as she peered at the odd trio of strangers. She had heard the shooting on the far side of the mountains and had fervently prayed that Black Otter was nowhere near it.
Answering in his native tongue, he said, “They are the friends of Big Hunter. One of them, the man, is wounded. They were attacked by bad white men. Big Hunter stayed behind to let us get away.” Big Hunter was the name Black Otter had given his white friend on the occasion when they first met, and Adam had given him a gift of one of the deer he had shot.
At once distressed, Little Flower could not help thinking of the danger she and Black Otter had faced when they had fled from their native land in Idaho Territory to escape the soldiers who wanted to drive them to the reservation. “Why do you bring these people here?” she repeated. “The bad white people will follow them to our camp, and we will have to run again.”
“They are running from the bad people, just as we ran from the soldiers,” Black Otter replied. “They mean us no harm, and they do not want to remain here in these mountains. I think Big Hunter is big medicine, and I will help him escape these people who would do him harm.”
“She doesn’t look too happy to see us,” Bonnie remarked. The two women and Finn had been waiting while Black Otter explained the situation to his wife. Since no one of the three knew even a smattering of words in the Bannock tongue, they were not certain but what they might be ordered to move on immediately. “Do you understand any of that talk?” Bonnie asked.
“Not a word,” Finn replied, just as the conversation between husband and wife ended, and they both turned to face the three white people.
“Little Flower,” Black Otter said, introducing the Indian woman. “She will give you food. Maybe Big Hunter be here soon.”
“Who?” Lacey asked Bonnie.
“I guess that’s his name for Adam,” Bonnie replied. “Here, help me get Finn off his horse.” She was ready to accept any hospitality offered, with or without a smile on Little Flower’s face. With help from the two women, Finn dismounted and sat down near the fire to rest. The hazardous ride along the steep mountain slopes had taken a lot out of his tired body. “I’ll break out that old coffeepot of yours,” Bonnie told him. “I doubt if these folks have any.”
It was a rugged trail Adam followed, making him wonder if he had not lost it in several places when it led him across wide areas of solid rock where there were no tracks. Remembering Black Otter’s directions to his camp, he wondered why it was necessary to keep climbing up the mountain instead of circling it lower toward the base. The question was answered, however, whenever he emerged from the belts of pines to reveal sheer cliffs that stood over deep canyons. Though difficult to travel, the barren mountaintops presented any number of places to wait in ambush for anyone following him. With that in mind, and hoping to stop his pursuers before they could catch up to Finn and the women, he kept an eye out for the best choice for ambush. When he came across an outcropping of rocks that were broad enough to conceal his horse and give him an unobstructed field of fire, he decided that he would find no better. So he dismounted and led his horse behind the wall of rocks. Drawing his rifle from the saddle sling, he selected a protected spot to await his pursuers, thinking they should not be far behind. The time ticked slowly by with no sign of the three outlaws. Still he remained there for a couple of hours before coming to the opinion that they must not have realized that he had withdrawn from the camp. They had evidently given up on continuing up the stream to his camp, and consequentially, did not follow his and Black Otter’s trail out of the camp. Maybe they had stopped to take possession of the six extra horses. It puzzled him, for it seemed unlikely that the three had given up and quit the chase, but it was something to hope for. Finally, he decided they had. Looking up at the midday sun, he continued on his way, thinking that it might not be wise to let the sun go down and catch him still high up on the mountain.
Leaving the expanse of rock, he came upon a broad meadow and sighted a deep gully that appeared to lead down toward the pines again. It looked to be a reasonable way down the mountain, so he decided to take it. Much to his surprise, he discovered a trail of hoofprints leading into the mouth of the gully. Dumb luck, he thought. The gulch led him to a hogback leading to the next mountain. By the time he found his way to the valley and Black Otter’s camp, the afternoon was wearing away.
Seldom taking her eyes off the open valley they had crossed to get to Black Otter’s camp, Lacey sat drinking a cup of the coffee Bonnie had made. They had eaten some of the venison that Little Flower had dried before, and while not yet exhibiting cordiality, at least the Indian woman no longer looked at her with a frown etched in her bronze features. Lacey could not blame her for feeling threatened. She would in her place. She glanced away from the valley for a few moments to look at Bonnie. Her sister in the ancient profession never seemed timid in any circumstance, and was already in the process of taking over the camp. She had dived right in with preparing food for them, making coffee, roasting strips of deer meat that Little Flower had provided. Lacey wondered if Bonnie was as fearless as she purveyed. At that moment, Bonnie looked up to meet her gaze and smiled. Then her eyes suddenly opened wide and she exclaimed, “Adam!” They all turned to discover the solitary rider coming across the valley floor. Black Otter immediately grabbed his bow, but there was no mistaking the bold figure riding the bay gelding.
Lacey dropped her cup, spilling the coffee in the sand, as she jumped to her feet and ran to meet him. Bonnie stood up, but remained by Finn’s side. That little girl is working herself up for a big disappointment, she thought. As far as she could tell, Adam had shown no particular interest in Lacey beyond the concern he might feel for any vulnerable woman. But Lacey was becoming more and more dependent upon their tall rescuer, and Bonnie feared the girl might be interpreting his concern as deeper feelings for her. After all, Jake had planned to carry her away from the evils of Bannack, and Adam seemed to be taking his brother’s place. I hope I’m wrong about this, she thought, fearing that a second disappointment might be too much for the insecure girl to bear.
“Well, I see you folks got here all right,” Adam said to Lacey when she ran up to walk beside his stirrup.
“I was worried about you, Adam,” Lacey said. “You were gone so long.”
“That’s a fact,” Finn called out. “We’re all glad you showed up. Thought you mighta got into a little trouble.”
Adam stepped down. Patting Lacey gently on the shoulder, he told her, “No need to worry about me. If somethin’ happens to me, you’ve still got Bonnie and Finn to get you outta here.” To Finn, he said, “No trouble—I waited awhile back up on the mountain for those three fellows to show up, but they never did. I think they musta gave up.”
“That don’t hardly figure, does it?” Finn replied, thinking of the amount of gold loaded in the ten bags, of which only he knew the real value. “I ain’t sure we’re done with them yet.”
“Me, either,” Adam said, “so let’s get you ready to ride and get on out of these mountains.” He turned to Black Otter then. The Bannock warrior was standing, waiting to introduce his wife. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Adam said in response to her curt nod, at once sensing a slight hostility in her manner. Uh-oh, he thought, we got Black Otter in trouble with his missus. Thinking there was no way he could blame her for her attitude, he told Black Otter that he intended to leave right away for the Madison Valley. “I don’t wanna bring any more trouble to you and your wife,” he said.
“I help you fight,” Black Otter said.
“You’ve already helped me, my friend, and I thank you and Little Flower again, but I don’t wanna bring those murderers down on your camp.”
“Stay one night,” Black Otter insisted. “Rest, rest horses, go in the morning.”
“All right, we’ll leave in the mornin’,” Adam finally said, much to his companions’ relief. He pulled his saddle off the bay and led the gelding down near the water to graze with the other horses and Finn’s mules.
“Damn!” Cruz swore loudly. “There ain’t nothin’ but one cliff after another on this mountain.” They had ridden almost halfway around the mountain, and tried climbing up several different ravines that looked to have promise, only to be turned back by a cliff, or a rock ledge. “You’re one helluva Injun scout,” he said sarcastically.
“Well, I ain’t got no way of knowin’ what’s at the end of a gulch if I ain’t ever been up it before,” Red Blanket replied. “It ain’t got nothin’ to do with scoutin’.”
“This ain’t gettin’ us nowhere,” Seeger complained. “We might as well go on back and try it up that stream again. They mighta pulled outta that camp by now—mighta come down that stream as soon as we left.”
Seeger’s comments caused Cruz to hesitate, thinking that he might be right, and the thought of being snookered by the hired gun and his whores was enough to bring his blood to a boil. He was reaching the point where he was ready to follow Seeger’s suggestion and go back to the stream below the waterfall, when they came to the hogback that linked the two mountains.
Red Blanket stared up at the trees that covered the high ridge between the two mountains for a few minutes before declaring, “We can ride up that ridge. That mountain ain’t so steep on this side. We might be able to go up it, and go round it, and come out above their camp.”
His suggestion sounded as if it entailed a lot of hard work to take the horses up the mountain, but it seemed a reasonable approach to attack the fugitives’ camp from above. And no one had any better solution to their problem, so Cruz said, “What the hell? Let’s go. There better be a helluva lot of gold up there,” he added, as Red Blanket led out.
As Red Blanket had predicted, the climb up the hogback was steep, but not a hard climb for their horses. “We’re gonna have to get off the horses and walk up the back of that mountain,” Red Blanket advised when they had reached the top of the ridge. He stepped down from the saddle and started to lead his horse back up the slope, but was stopped abruptly by something he saw in the pine straw. “Hold on!” he exclaimed, and held up his hand to halt Cruz and Seeger behind him.
“What is it?” Seeger asked.
“Wait a minute,” Red Blanket replied impatiently while he knelt down to examine the floor of the pine forest. Crawling along on his hands and knees, he suddenly let out a chuckle. When Cruz, equally impatient, asked what he had found, Red Blanket got to his feet to announce his discovery. “This oughta tickle you. Them folks has already left that camp. They’re on the run.” He pointed over Cruz’s shoulder. “They came down off that mountain and crossed over this hogback.” He turned to point again. “And went yonder way.”
This sparked Cruz’s and Seeger’s interest immediately. “How do you know it was them?” Seeger asked.
“Who else would it be?” Red Blanket replied. “Ain’t no doubt, anyway. The way this straw is tore up, it was more’n one or two horses come through here, and it weren’t long ago.”
“How long?” Cruz wanted to know.
“Hell, I don’t know,” Red Blanket responded, “not long. I’m an Injun. I ain’t no damn fortune-teller, but we can’t be that far behind ’em.”
Once again, Cruz’s mind was working on the possibility of acquiring a large amount of gold, and now it was out in the open. Plummer had said he knew exactly how much there was, but maybe Plummer was bluffing. The thought of capturing Finn’s treasure with just the three of them to know how much was really there was cause to consider all the options available. The immediate priority was to overtake the fugitives and take possession of the gold. After that was accomplished, he could take the time to decide the best way to handle the situation, and whether or not he had further need of Seeger and Red Blanket. “Let’s go get ’em, boys,” he finally exclaimed. “Lead out, Red Blanket, and mind you don’t lead us into no ambush.”
The first shot came after they had eaten a supper of more venison with some pan bread that Bonnie had made with some of Finn’s flour. The bullet found a victim in the form of Lacey Brewer as the young girl passed before the fire, bringing the coffeepot to fill Adam’s cup. She issued no more than a whimper before crumpling to the ground with a .44 slug in her stomach. That shot was followed by a volley of rifle fire that swept the camp, sending the fugitives to the ground to seek cover, and Adam scrambling to drag Lacey out of the firelight. Amid the chaos that ensued, he heard Little Flower scream in fear and Bonnie yell Lacey’s name. There was no time to see what Finn and Black Otter were doing. Adam had to assume they were taking cover to repel the attack. He pulled Lacey back in the shadows where he had dumped his saddle, and drew his rifle from the sling. He had to take a moment then to try to see where the shots were coming from and how close they were before he could give Lacey his attention. “Lie quiet,” he said softly. “I’ll be right back.” He rolled over several times and inched his way up to a low mound close to the edge of the stream, and waited for the next volley. It came in less than a few seconds, and he immediately sent an answering series of shots toward the muzzle flashes. A few yards away, he heard the distinct sound of Bonnie’s carbine. After another moment, the solid sound of Finn’s rifle sang out. “Lacey’s hit!” Adam called out. “Anybody else?”
“We’re all right,” Bonnie yelled. “I don’t know about Black Otter and Little Flower. Where’s Lacey?”
“She’s over by my saddle,” Adam answered. “I’m goin’ back to her now. Keep your eyes peeled.” He crawled back to the wounded girl.
“Adam,” Lacey cried when he returned to her side, her voice pitiful and frightened. “It hurts bad, Adam.”
“Where are you hit?” he asked. “Oh, Lord,” he blurted immediately after, when he saw the dark stain spreading rapidly on her shirt. Then, afraid that he might have frightened her, he quickly tried to reassure her. “You’re gonna be all right. I know it hurts, but you’ll be all right.” Even as he said it, he knew her chances were not good. There was nothing he could do to help her.
There was a lull in the shooting and a few seconds later, Bonnie crawled over to join them. “How bad is it, honey?” she asked Lacey.
“It hurts,” Lacey whimpered.
Bonnie looked at Adam and he shook his head, telling her what she had feared. Then, seeing Lacey’s bloody shirt, she understood. Lacey was gut-shot and bleeding internally as well as soaking her shirt. She put her carbine down and put her arms around the dying girl, holding her close to comfort her. Speaking quietly to Adam, she said, “You’d better keep your eye on the others.”
He nodded, then looked again at Lacey. It was obvious that the young girl was fading fast, and it grieved him to see her suffer so, but he felt helpless to do anything that might make it easier for her. The shooting from the valley floor started anew and he told Bonnie he was going to go back to the bank of the stream where he had a better chance of a lucky shot.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, Lacey was fighting to live and she clutched Adam’s wrist as he started to leave. “Don’t leave me, Adam,” she pleaded feebly. Her words were weak and slurred as the life drained out of her body. “I’d have made you a good wife, Adam.”
Startled by her dying statement, he didn’t know how to respond, but he did not want to hurt her feelings. “I know you would, Lacey. You’da made any man a fine wife.” A faint smile parted her lips, she sighed softly, and she was gone. Stunned for a moment, Adam felt his soul filled with rage for the useless killing of the young innocent girl. She had been an easy target, silhouetted against the firelight, so they killed her. It didn’t matter that she was no threat to them. They just took the easy shot.
“Adam, you’re hurting me.”
In his anger over the unjust murder, he hadn’t realized that he had grabbed Bonnie’s arm, and the powerful grip of his hand had cut off the circulation. He released her immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what I was doin’.”
“I know,” she said softly, ignoring the random shots that still snapped across the stream, tearing holes in Little Flower’s tipi. “It’s not your fault. There wasn’t anything you could have done to save her life.” Her words were unusually gentle, not at all her normal brashness. “The rest of us need you now. If we don’t respond to their attack, they’re gonna ride right in here and kill us all. Lacey’s gone and it ain’t your fault.”
He heard what she was saying, but he could not discard the guilt he felt for Lacey’s death. He had told her he would take her home with him. Had he not, she would still be in Bannack, unhappy maybe, but alive. He hoped that Jake might be there to take her hand and lead her across that dark river into the next world, whatever that was. As for himself, he had had enough. He was tired of running, chased by godless outlaws who preyed upon the innocent, like Lacey—and Finn—and Black Otter. Not only was he guilty of Lacey’s death, but he had brought the murderers down on the innocent Indian couple. At that moment, he decided that he was no longer going to run from these gangs of outlaws. It was time for them to pay for their sins against decent folks.
Once his decision was made, a calmness came over him, and when he looked at Bonnie’s terrified eyes, he realized that she was frightened by this intense episode that had seemed to consume him. Once again, his somber demeanor returned as he told her what she should do. “Leave Lacey for now. Crawl back over there with your carbine and help Finn throw some shots at the muzzle flashes when you see ’em.”
“What are you gonna do?” Bonnie asked, somewhat relieved to see his usual sober self return.
“I’m gonna rout those bastards outta there,” he said. “You and Finn keep your heads down.” With that, he rolled over the edge of the bank and disappeared into the darkness.
“Wait!” she cried, but he was already gone. Oh, shit, she thought, and scrambled off to tell Finn that they were alone. When she reached him, where he had taken cover behind a sizable tree, she gave him the news that Adam was out there somewhere in the darkness, and the two of them were going to have to defend the camp.
“Three of us,” Finn corrected her. “I told Black Otter to take one of those extra rifles off the packhorse. He wasn’t doin’ much good shootin’ all his arrows into a dark sky.”
Ignoring the chilling water that embraced his legs, Adam made his way across the swiftly running stream. When he reached the other side, he silently climbed onto the bank and knelt in the fir trees to listen and watch for the muzzle flashes again. His wait was not long, for the three outlaws were not trying to conserve their cartridges. His plan was to flank the attackers, and once he pinpointed their position, he began to work his way across the narrow valley, stopping every dozen yards or so to watch and listen. The muzzle flashes told him that the outlaws were not moving and had probably found good protection to shoot from. There was no moon yet and the valley was too dark to determine their exact position, so the flashes were all he had to go on. Foremost in his mind was to get to them before they decided to move on the camp. He tried to recall a picture of the valley and how the stream cut through the firs, but had to reproach himself for not paying enough attention to that detail when he rode into Black Otter’s camp earlier. When he reached a point directly on the flank of the shooters, he started inching his way forward in an attempt to get closer. Even when he was within a reasonable range for his rifle, he still could not make out individual targets. The moonless night and the dense stand of fir trees made it almost impossible to see distinct figures. There was no alternative but to wait for a clear shot, for he wanted to make every shot count. His intent was not merely to chase Lacey’s killers away; he had made up his mind to eliminate them from the earth. So he waited.
“How long are we gonna keep this up?” Seeger yelled over to Cruz. “So far, we ain’t done nothin’ but use up over half the cartridges I’ve got left.”
“. . . and shot one whore.” Red Blanket finished the statement for him, with a little chuckle. At that distance, they couldn’t tell which prostitute had been the victim, but she was clearly identifiable as a woman.
“Hell, it was a good shot,” Seeger replied in defense. “I just hope it was that salty old bitch and not the young one. We might wanna save her for a little while.” Getting back to his question, he asked, “How ’bout it, Cruz, you figurin’ on workin’ in closer to see if we can’t go ahead and take that camp?”
“I reckon that’s what we came here to do, weren’t it?” Cruz answered, but he was still hesitant about rushing into the camp with the miners’ hired gun waiting for just such a move. “I’d feel a heap better if I knew exactly where that stud horse with the Henry rifle is.” It occurred to him then that he had not heard the distinctive sound of the Henry for a while, and it gave him pause to wonder why. “You know, that son of a bitch might be thinkin’ about—” That was as far as he got before he heard the solid thump of a .44 slug impacting with flesh and bones, followed almost immediately by the sharp crack of the Henry. He turned to see Red Blanket in the small open space between the outlaws and the trees where their horses were tied. The opening in the trees was no bigger than three paces across, but the Indian had been caught in the middle of it while on his way to get more cartridges from his saddlebags. While Cruz gaped, stunned by the sudden attack, Red Blanket uttered not a sound, but staggered toward a tree, where he slid to the ground and slowly keeled over, dead by all appearances.
“Cruz!” Seeger shouted. “We got to get outta here! They’ve snuck around us!”
“I know it!” Cruz yelled back. “They got Red Blanket. It’s that damn killer,” he said, for there was no doubt who the shooter was.
“You see him?”
“No,” Cruz answered, “but he’s off to the right somewhere. I’m pretty sure that’s where the shot came from.”
“We got to get outta here,” Seeger repeated frantically.
“I know it, damn it,” Cruz said, as anxious to move as Seeger, but leery of exposing himself even for a moment, as Red Blanket had, and giving the stalker another open shot. There had been only that one shot from somewhere out in the dark valley, which suggested to Cruz that the killer was waiting for the next person to make a mistake. “We’ve got to be careful, though. Can you get to the horses without crossin’ that space where Red Blanket is?” The rifle fire from the camp across the stream was now all but ignored since the real danger was clearly on their flank.
“I don’t know, maybe, but I ain’t too anxious to try,” Seeger replied. “Did you see where the shot came from?”
“No, damn it, somewhere out to the right, most likely in that stand of trees yonder. I’ll lay down enough fire to keep his head down, so you can make a run for the horses. All right?”
Seeger wasn’t keen on the idea that he should be the one taking that chance, but he knew there was no future in sitting there waiting for the rifleman to pick him off, so he decided to make a run for it. “All right,” he responded. “Start shootin’.”
Cruz opened up with his repeating rifle, firing as fast as he could pull the trigger and cock it again. Sending his shots toward the stand of trees he had mentioned, he shifted his aim back and forth across the shadowy clump of trees. It had the effect he had intended, for Seeger sprinted across the gap in the trees without a return shot being fired. Grabbing the reins of the horses, he led them back to Cruz, using their bodies as his cover. “Come on!” he exclaimed to Cruz as soon as he was back in the trees. There was no need to repeat it, for Cruz was running to meet him. As quickly as two frightened men could, they jumped in their saddles and galloped off through the firs, toward the mouth of the canyon. Almost ready to celebrate a clean getaway, Seeger suddenly yelped in pain as a rifle slug caught him behind the shoulder.
Hearing the shot that hit Seeger, Cruz flailed his horse mercilessly as the two would-be assassins charged recklessly through the firs that bordered the creek. Across the creek they splashed, through a bank of berry bushes, and down the valley floor, demanding all their horses could give. Not until they had ridden the length of the valley and come to the pass that led to the broad river valley beyond did they let up on the laboring horses, and then only because to continue at that pace the horses might founder. It was then that Cruz learned for certain that the shot he had heard when they fled had hit Seeger. “Damn the luck,” he remarked when he saw Seeger favoring his left arm and his blood-soaked sleeve. “How bad is it?” He looked behind them, peering in the darkness, expecting to see the gunman giving chase.
“I don’t know,” Seeger answered. “It ain’t that bad, I reckon, just hurts like hell.” He was cautious not to let on how bad it really felt, afraid that Cruz might be inclined to leave him to fend for himself.
“That son of a bitch,” Cruz muttered, talking primarily to himself. “Every time we run up against him, one of us gets shot.” Cruz had never been a timid man in the face of most any kind of confrontation with lawmen or outlaws, but there was something eerie about the mysterious gun hand the miners of Bannack had supposedly brought in to clean out the outlaw gangs. He thought back on the events that had happened, and the number of gang members who had been killed, since this stranger with the wide shoulders and the Henry rifle had come to the territory. It was almost as if the man was not human, and Cruz did not want to admit it to himself, but for the first time in his life, he felt fear. And the inclination to run had never been stronger, even though he would pass it off as simply being cautious.
Seeger winced in pain when he turned in the saddle to study their back trail. “I don’t think he came after us,” he said. “I think he was on foot.”
“Maybe,” Cruz allowed, thinking back. “He’da had to be to get that close on us without us or our horses hearin’ him.”
“We’re gonna have to let these horses rest, else we’re gonna be on foot, too,” Seeger said. His real concern, however, was more for his wounded shoulder, and the feeling that he had to rest for a while and try to see what he could do to take care of it.
“I reckon you’re right,” Cruz agreed, and immediately looked around him for a likely spot. “Yonder,” he said, pointing to a crook in the stream where it entered the pass. “We can see him comin’ for a pretty good ways, even in the dark.” When Seeger expressed agreement, Cruz said, “Lead out and I’ll follow you.” He reined his horse back to let Seeger go before him, with another thought in mind. He wanted to take a closer look at his partner and how the wounded shoulder was affecting him. As they walked the tired horses toward the stream, Cruz took note of the way Seeger was favoring his shoulder, with his arm dangling limp at his side. He had no intention of hanging back to take care of a severely wounded man while there was the possibility that a deadly killer was on his trail. Thoughts of the gold dust supposedly in Finn’s packs had been lost in the past half hour, replaced with an image of the sinister hunter stalking him. We don’t even know for sure that old bastard has any gold worth going after, he thought. “What?” he asked, realizing then that Seeger had asked a question.
“I said are we still goin’ after that gold? ’Cause if we are, I’m gonna need to take care of this shoulder.” He was still trying to downplay the seriousness of the wound. In reality, he wanted nothing more to do with the man traveling with Michael Finn.
“I’m tired of chasin’ after those folks,” Cruz complained. “I don’t think that old man has any gold, anyway. I think Plummer sent us on a wild-goose chase. Ain’t nobody ever seen any of that gold. I believe it’s just a setup to draw us in, so that damned gun hand can kill off some more of us.”
That was what Seeger wanted to hear. “By God, I think you’re right. We’ve done our part in Plummer’s little game. Somebody else can chase all over these mountains lookin’ to get a lead bullet in the chest for their trouble. Hell, me and you can rest up a spell and head on back.” He pointed to a low ridge before the base of the mountain pass. “We can set us up a camp on that ridge, and see everythin’ moving in this valley behind us, long before they get close. Whaddaya say, Cruz? To tell you the truth, this shoulder needs a little attention. It won’t stop bleedin’.”
Cruz thought about it for a moment. He was not inclined to sit in one spot and wait for death to come calling on him. But they had damn near killed their horses in their panic to escape, so it was in their best interest to let them recover before moving on. What about the man they feared? Why would he come after them? He had been successful in running them off; there was no reason to believe he would do anything beyond starting back out to wherever he was headed in the first place. Come to think of it, he thought, he was the one doing the running all along. “All right,” he said, “we’ll stop here for the night and see if your shoulder can’t get a little better.”
Not sure if he had hit anything with his last shot at the fleeing riders, Adam walked into the stand of firs to confirm the kill he was confident of. He found Red Blanket lying on his side at the base of a tree. The fiery anger that had consumed him when he had knelt beside the dying girl had been replaced by an impassive calm that created a sober, businesslike approach to the task he had set for himself. He reached down and rolled the body over on its back, curious to get a look at the man who had sought to kill him and his party. Feeling no emotion beyond what one would feel for the extermination of a rat, he unbuckled the man’s cartridge belt and pulled it off his body. He picked up the weapon he saw on the ground near the tree, a Spencer carbine, then walked to the edge of the trees to peer off into the darkness after the two remaining outlaws. He would go after them, but first he must see to the members of his party to make sure they were all right.
Several minutes had passed since the last shots fired from across the stream, and Finn worried that their adversaries might be creeping up close to their camp. He had heard the one shot from off to the side, and he was pretty sure it was from Adam’s Henry rifle, but there was still the chance that the outlaws might even now be approaching in the darkness. Thinking along the same lines, Bonnie moved closer to him and whispered, “Whaddaya think? Do you think they’re trying to get behind us?” When Finn confessed that he didn’t know, but they should keep a sharp eye for whatever they were trying, she assured him that she was going to shoot at the first movement she saw. Luckily for Adam, they heard him call out moments later.
“Finn, hold your fire. They’re gone. I’m comin’ in.”
Exhaling a great sigh of relief, Finn called back, “Come on in, Adam.” In a few minutes, he emerged from the darkness, directly in front of them, crossed the stream, and walked into the camp leading two horses. Still wet from his thighs down to his toes, he went to the fire and sat down to remove his boots.
Black Otter moved to stand over him. “Bad men gone?”
“Yep, they’re gone,” Adam answered. “One of ’em’s dead. One of the other two might be wounded. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think they’ll be back, at least not tonight. I’m sorry I brought this to your camp. I hope Little Flower is all right.”
Black Otter nodded. “I think I move camp. Too easy to find.”
“It wouldn’ta been if I hadn’t led ’em right to it,” Adam said. “I’ll be goin’ after them at first light. I want to make you a gift of those two horses. One of them, the packhorse, might have some supplies you can use.” He hoped that the gift might help pay for the trouble he had brought Black Otter’s way. The Bannock warrior eagerly accepted the gifts.
Adam glanced over at the spot near his saddle where Bonnie and Little Flower were bending over Lacey’s body, and the painful thought that he had been responsible for her death caused a deep frown of guilt to appear on his brow. He motioned toward the Spencer and cartridge belt lying on the ground beside him. “Take the carbine, too. You need more than a bow if you’re gonna stay holed up in these mountains.” Again, Black Otter accepted the gifts gratefully. He was beginning to think he had been wise to befriend Big Hunter and his friends, for now he had horses and weapons when, before, he had neither.
“Did I hear you say you’re goin’ after them?” Finn asked. “I thought that since you’ve chased them away, maybe we’d be moving on in the mornin’—put some distance between us and them.”
“I’ll be goin’ after them at first light,” Adam repeated.
“Maybe they’ve had enough,” Finn said, strongly preferring Adam’s presence with him and Bonnie.
“Maybe,” Adam allowed somberly, “but there’s one way to make sure. Whether they’re plannin’ to come back or not, they need to settle up for what they did to Lacey.” Although he made no further comment, Finn’s discontent was obvious, so Adam continued. “You and Bonnie can head outta the mountains in the mornin’, or you can wait here with Black Otter and Little Flower till I get back. But I’m goin’ after those two. I’m gonna make sure they don’t cause us, or anybody else, any more trouble.”
Finn could see there was no room for discussion on the issue. “Well, I guess my choices are down to one, since I don’t know where the hell I’m goin’ without you to lead me, now, do I?” He didn’t have to mention the primary reason for riding with Adam, for protection for him and his gold.
“I reckon that is a minor detail,” Adam replied, almost smiling. Finn had never expressed what his plans were, if any, beyond making it to the Triple-B. For that matter, neither had Bonnie. “That shoulder could stand another day or so of rest, anyway,” Adam said.
“Maybe you’re right about that, although I can feel I’m gettin’ my strength back. Bonnie and I will take care of Lacey while you’re gone.”
Moving to join them by the fire, Bonnie was in time to hear Finn’s comment. “I guess you’re going to chase after those two murderers now.”
“I am,” Adam answered emphatically, expecting some objection from the crusty prostitute.
“I expected as much,” she said, to his surprise. “Don’t take too long doing it. Finn and I will take care of things here till you get back.” She glanced at Black Otter, who had stood silently, listening to their discussion. “If that’s all right with Black Otter and Little Flower.”
“You are welcome here,” Black Otter said. Then with a smile, he added, “Woman shoot gun good.”
It was settled, then. Both Finn and Bonnie were smart enough to know that they were extremely vulnerable if they tried to go on without Adam. Not only was he their primary protection, but he was their guide to his father’s ranch in the Gallatin Valley. Neither of the two had made any plans beyond that, but to both it seemed to mean their safety.