The full moon cast a strong illumination over the Hope Wells train depot. This would generally be a great disadvantage in a sneak attack, but the risk was canceled out by the stealth of Pontaro and the six warriors with him as they approached the building. Zeke Mason, the station manager and lay brother of the Christian Worship Church, dozed at his desk, and didn’t hear a sound as the Guerras Apaches eased inside the door.
Pontaro, in the lead, raised his hatchet and brought it down with all his strength on Zeke’s head. The instrument’s blade struck so hard and deep that the man’s eyeballs popped out of their sockets. The attackers, ignorant of how the communication instrument functioned, took their hatchets and began chopping it up until it was a shattered clutter of metal.
Now Hope Wells had no communication with the outside world.
With that done the Indians left the building. It took them only a few minutes to locate good cover along the south road leading from the town. The small war party set up an ambush to kill any whites that might come down the rustic thoroughfare.
At that same moment, north of Hope Wells, Halkon tasked four teen-age boys to take care of the horses while he and Kuchiyo with two dozen warriors snuck through a stand of piñon pines. Their target was Arlo Wheatfall’s cattle ranch. A couple of dogs began to bark until hunks of mutton were tossed to them. The excited hounds began eating, managing to take a few bites before knives were driven into the back of their necks to make sure they created no further disturbance.
With that annoyance taken care of, Halkon quickly arranged his war party in a semi-circle around the ranch yard, then crept forward for a closer look at the objective. No people were visible among the structures. This included the ranch house, bunkhouse and the two small buildings where the married cowboys, their wives and Mexican servant girls lived.
At that point Halkon signaled the war party to move forward. He had divided his force into two teams. The first, under the leadership of Kuchiyo, would attack the bunkhouse where the bachelor cowboys slept, while Halkon took the second bunch to deal with the ranch house and small buildings.
The bunkhouse raid was accomplished in a brutally short time. The Apaches rushed through the door and began firing into the bunks, walking rapidly down the two rows of sleeping cowboys. Hatchets and knives stolen from the reservation store were used to make sure all were dead. By then Halkon’s group of warriors had opened fire and charged into the smaller buildings.
Arlo Wheatfall, a widower sleeping alone in the ranch house, came awake at the first volley of shots. He instinctively jumped up and grabbed his Winchester carbine off its wall rack. The old man, his adrenalin flowing, raced from the bedroom, going out on the porch. After a quick sizing up of the situation, he sped across the open space and entered the building where the two Mexican maids lived.
When he burst in, he saw the two young women huddled together in one corner of the room. Their eyes were wide with fright and they trembled violently. Arlo crouched and crept toward the outer door with his carbine cocked and loaded. He came to an abrupt halt as two Apaches charged into the interior. The old rancher dropped them both, then looked outside. It took him but an instant to deduce what was happening. The yard was crowded with Apache warriors, and some were dragging the cowboys’ wives out into the open.
Arlo turned toward the Mexican girls and shot each one, then stuck the muzzle of the weapon under his chin and pulled the trigger.
Halkon and the other Guerras entered the building, stepping over their dead tribesmen. They were enraged when they saw that the good-looking young women were dead. Halkon mutilated Arlo’s corpse, then went back to join the gang rapes going on outside.
Swift Horse and Michael Strongbow were on guard at the bivouac when the firing to the north erupted. Before they could alert the detachment, the officers and other scouts were out of their blanket rolls with weapons at the ready. Sergeant Eagle Heart arranged the scouts in a skirmish line facing the direction of the shooting.
Suddenly all was quiet. Ludlow strained his ears but could hear nothing. He looked at Hawkins. “What do you think that was, sir?”
“It’s a mystery to me, Mr. Dooley.”
Ludlow was uncertain and confused. “Maybe that preacher told the Apaches to start shooting to begin the second coming. It sounded like there were a lot of guns going off.”
“If that’s the case, I’d say every single Guerras warrior was firing those single-shot carbines mighty fast.”
Eagle Heart appeared. “I send out Corp’ral Tall Bear to be with Swift Horse and Strong Bow. They watch out for trouble.”
“Well done, Sergeant,” Hawkins acknowledged. “But there’s a chance it was just part of the ghost dance.”
“There many shots, Cap’n,” Eagle Heart pointed out.
Hawkins instincts told him the disturbance could be a raid. He had heard of the cattle ranch to the north. Perhaps the Guerras were making a horse-stealing attack. He knew the road coming from that direction led directly to Hope Wells.
“Sergeant, get the men prepared for action,” he instructed. “And that means saddling the horses. I’m going to position the entire detachment across the road.”
Eagle Heart quickly turned to the task.
Marshal Dennis O’Rourke was dressed, and armed with carbine and pistol after being shaken from his slumber by the distant sound of shooting. He strode swiftly down the street toward the sheriff’s office. People were now appearing on the streets, many wailing about the end of the world coming while others were down on their knees holding their hands skyward, praying and weeping. But the majority were armed and silent.
O’Rourke wasn’t surprised to see that Sheriff Dan Mason and Deputy Arnie Schmidt were already at the jail when he arrived. “What the hell’s going on?” the marshal asked.
“I don’t know,” Mason answered. “But I’m heading over to Hezekiah Woodward’s house to find out if he’s got anything to do with this.”
“I’m going with you.”
Mason left Arnie behind to keep order until he and O’Rourke returned. When they arrived at the pastor’s house they noted lantern light in the parlor. Mason banged hard on the front door, yelling, “Open up, Hezekiah! And do it quick!”
The preacher instantly appeared, obviously having dressed fast. His face was pale. “Hello, Dan.”
“D’you have anything to do with that shooting that broke out a while ago?”
“Uh … I don’t think so.”
Mildred Woodward, wearing a dressing gown, appeared in the parlor. “Is this the second coming, Hezekiah?”
“Could be,” he said. “Maybe our Savior is out at the Guerras reservation making the Apaches shoot and send sinners to hell.”
“That shooting came from the north not the west,” O’Rourke said. “And it sounded like there was a coupla hunnerd guns going off.”
Leo Horton showed up, his voice trembling. “Hezekiah! Hezekiah! What’s going on? Has the second coming begun? We got to get out there!”
The sight of his deacon calmed the pastor a bit. “Hello, Leo.”
O’Rourke grabbed Hezekiah by the arm and shook him hard. “Don’t give me any of that second coming shit. Is that them Apaches shooting?”
“Oh, my God!” Hezekiah cried. “I don’t know who they are! I swear I don’t. This ain’t the way things is supposed to be.”
Back at the bivouac, Mack Hawkins ordered the detachment to mount up for a withdrawal into town. Since the captain had no idea of who or how many shooters were to the north, he led his command the short distance to Hope Wells to prepare for a possible attack.