A ferocious storm had been raging above the infamous Lucifer’s Lair for several hours as the determined vigilante drew rein and studied the mountainous monolith before him. He had brought a sturdy cavalry horse with him from Fort Hook for the young Hooper girls should his almost suicidal rescue attempt be successful as he moved through the dark shadows along the base of the over-hanging rocks in search of another way into the vast expanse of canyons.
It had been obvious to the tall horseman that it was far too risky for him to attempt riding into the main canyon, as it was used by smugglers and Apaches, and was probably well guarded.
If he were to achieve his goal, he had known that he had to find another way into the labyrinth of canyons and natural tunnels which littered the vast expanse of the notorious Lucifer’s Lair.
Uriah Moon was no stranger to risking his neck when he confronted his chosen prey but this had been different. This time there were innocent lives involved and that troubled the expressionless horseman as lightning flashed and thunderclaps rocked the very air he rode through.
The vigilante was well aware that death waited for him to make just one mistake. Moon realized that he had to get this right first time for there might not have been a second chance. The girl’s lives hinged on a knife edge and only he could prevent them from toppling into the chasm of death.
Death had been the vigilante’s constant companion for a long time and Moon respected its power over mere mortals. The desert sand was littered with their bleached bones and the intrepid traveler had no intention of joining their ranks. Moon had known that this time he had the added responsibility of two innocent young females to consider.
Moon had to get this right. There was no alternative.
He had dismounted his gelded mustang and securely tethered its long leathers to a huge jagged boulder close to the entrance of a narrow canyon. Moon satisfied himself both horses were unable to flee as the storm grew angrier and louder with every passing eruption of ear-splitting explosions overhead.
With white flashes peppering the troubled heavens above the mountain spires, Uriah Moon had then entered the narrow canyon and begun his daunting task.
Moon had slid two coiled saddle ropes over his left arm and pushed them up to his shoulder. Fort Hook had provided him with six dynamite sticks and their fuses which he had hidden in his shirt front.
For some unknown reason, Moon had demanded the explosives before he had agreed to attempt his rescue of the young golden haired maidens. He had never used dynamite before but a whispering voice somewhere inside his head had told him that he would require the lethal explosives.
Uriah Moon always obeyed his inner voice for it had never once let him down. He had continued to walk along the twisted canyon knowing that this was the most dangerous adventure he had ever undertaken.
It had been a gamble.
The biggest gamble of his entire life and yet Moon refused to acknowledge the potential dangers as he strode further into the darkness and searched for a way into the heart of the notorious Lair.
After what had seemed like an eternity, the vigilante found himself standing below a steep rough rock wall. The summit of the canyons rugged rocks lit up every time the storm erupted in the brooding sky.
Maybe it had been the overhead flashes of lightning which lit up the confines of the canyon that had allowed his unblinking eyes to spot the ledge high above him.
Perhaps it had just been pure luck that had caused him to glance upward at exactly the right moment, but Moon had spotted the ledge jutting out from the rocky wall and instinctively knew that this might just be his way into the belly of the beast. His keen eyesight had spotted something else close to the ledge. It had looked like a tunnel entrance.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Moon had removed one of the coiled ropes off his shoulder and loosened it until he was able to start spinning it with the expertise any wrangler might be proud of.
Moon had released the spinning lasso and propelled it up into the gloom toward the ledge at tremendous speed. More lightning forked like rattlers tongues across the heavens as the loop wrapped around the ledge.
The tall vigilante pulled and tightened the loop and then without a second thought for the danger which he might be blindly about to enter, started to climb.
Mustering every ounce of his strength and agility, the silver haired vigilante had quickly ascended the sheer vertical obstacle.
Once Moon had reached the ledge he crawled upon the flat surface of the rock and paused long enough for his breath to return to him. Few men would have even considered doing what the intrepid vigilante was doing but then Uriah Moon was unlike other men.
Moon had no fear of death in whatever form it manifested.
All he could think about was reaching the girls he knew where somewhere in the maze of canyons and tunnels that made up the Lair.
Nothing else mattered to him.
If he were to encounter anyone who might try to halt his progress, Moon would deal with them. He had known that one of the most fearless bands of Apaches resided somewhere within the labyrinth of canyons alongside white smugglers but neither faction troubled the vigilante.
Moon was there to rescue the Hooper sisters and that was exactly what he intended doing. He knew that the odds were not in his favor but again that had been nothing new to the single-minded Uriah Moon.
Failure had never been an option.
The high ledge was bathed in darkness but the flashes of lightning lit up the canyon and showed the vigilante the way he had to go. Moon had seen the natural fissure in the rock face lit up by the tempests illumination from the canyon floor. Now he was standing next to it. He immediately entered its confines and started to walk through its winding length.
Moon could hear a strange noise. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Yet it lured him deeper and deeper into the tunnel.
The further he ventured the louder the sound became.
Moon’s razor sharp wits soon recognized the noise as chanting with the constant beating of drums. His narrowed eyes had then spotted light dancing upon the tunnel walls ahead of him. He forged on until he had reached the very end of the narrow confines and stopped in his tracks.
The sight which had confronted the vigilante was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. It chilled him to the bone and made him realize how many Apaches there were and how outnumbered he was.
This was their stronghold, his mind silently told him.
His mind had raced as he had watched the chanting Indians as they circled the raging fire in the middle of the clearing as it sent flames up into the heavens. Red sparks randomly floated and rose up toward the stormy sky like swarms of crazed fireflies.
This was not what he had expected.
Uriah Moon crouched and stared down into the brightly lit rocky clearing. The massive campfire which had been built at its center highlighted the interior of the cavernous clearing. Moon had watched as Apaches danced and chanted around its fearsome flames.
Moon had noticed several adobe structures beyond the activity with dozens of females and watching white men moving between them and several large barrels filled with rotgut whiskey. It seemed that everyone was enjoying the crudely distilled liquor and howling like wolves in celebration.
His keen ice blue eyes surveyed the noisy festivities until they had located the fair haired Hooper girls in one of the adobe structures. One of the Apache females ushered the girls out into the open and forced them to join in with the strange celebrations. Yet neither of the Hooper sisters could do anything apart from cling to one another in terror.
Uriah Moon could only guess why the Apaches were so joyous as their drums repeatedly pounded. It had to be the attack they had mounted on Fort Hook, he thought. With the cunning of a fox, the silver haired bearded vigilante had moved through the shadows down a slope from the tunnel entrance to where he was at the rough pathways lowest point.
He had used the shadows to remain unseen.
As the dazed and confused young girls clung to one another and moved close to his hiding place, Moon noticed a young Apache brave following them. It had been clear to the vigilante what the warrior’s intentions were and Moon had been determined not to allow it.
He had arrived just in time Moon had told himself.
Staring just over the rim of rocks where he lay, Moon watched the excited brave moving ever closer to the golden haired females and had waited for the perfect moment when he could strike.
A million thoughts raced through his mind. He had known that he had to be fast. He also had to ensure that the Apache could not cry out for help. Moon also had to ensure he was not observed by any of the numerous other Apaches.
This had been unlike anything he had ever attempted.
But as the inebriated Apache moved closer to both the girls and the vigilante on the ledge, Moon moved with the speed of a striking rattler.
He had then grabbed the warriors head and smothered his face with his hands. As the Apache struggled, Moon’s hands had squeezed with all their might. It did not take long for death to claim the Apache as Moon’s hands had prevented him from breathing.
To make sure that the Apache was actually dead, Moon dragged the lifeless body off the ground and twisted his hold. Only he had heard the neck snapping.
After the young brave had fallen on to the sand lifelessly Moon had lifted both the girls up on to the slope and guided them through the shadows to the tunnel.
The campfire smoke had also shielded their escape from being observed by the celebrating people within the rocky canyon clearing.
As the sisters had awaited his next action, Moon removed several sticks of the deadly dynamite from his shirt, pushed fuses into their lengths, lit them and then thrown one of them into the raging fire before casting another to where the whiskey barrels stood. He then discarded the third into the wide canyon just beyond the clearing.
The lethal vigilante had then noticed the distinctive features of one of the smugglers. He knew that he was looking at the infamous Spangler Brough, a known killer, slave trader and smuggler of everything he could turn a profit upon.
With ice cold detachment, Moon raised one of his Peacemakers, aimed and squeezed its trigger. His bullet was deadly accurate and sent the leader of the smugglers crashing backwards into the whiskey barrels.
Moon had then turned and ordered the girls to flee.
As Moon had steered the young sisters through the long tunnel back toward the canyon ledge, the massive explosions erupted behind them.
Yet even though the entire tunnel shook violently and started to crumble behind them, Moon refused to allow the girls to slow their pace. Upon reaching the ledge, he had carefully used his second rope to lower both Josie and Betty Hooper down to the canyon floor.
All had gone smoothly as he had lowered the eldest girl down into the blackness but as he had labored lowering the youngest of the girls down into the canyon, Moon had heard the ranting of Apaches behind his broad back in the tunnel.
It had not taken the warriors long to work out where they had been attacked from and had swarmed up to the entrance of the tunnel. Their angry yelling echoed through the length of the narrow confines.
Moon swiftly lit the fuse wire of another of his dynamite sticks and threw it into the tunnel.
He had then drawn both his guns from their holsters and started to fire blindly into the tunnel as dust and debris billowed out from its mouth. Suddenly, without warning the screaming Apache chief Termanjo came rushing out from the tunnels choking dust and caught the vigilante.
Termanjo was wounded but no less dangerous.
Both men fell violently and hit the hard ledge. They wrestled feverishly as lightning flashed overhead and the sound of thunder rocked Lucifer’s Lair.
As the wounded Termanjo swung his knife at Moon, the dynamite stick which the vigilante had tossed into the already smoking tunnel exploded.
Hot ferocious flames and black curling smoke cascaded like the dregs of a cannon being fired out from the tunnel. Its sheer force had knocked both men off the precarious rocky ledge. The Apache chief flew helplessly out into the darkness and fell to his death. At exactly the same time Moon toppled off the edge of the high rocky projection and he too fell.
As the vigilante descended into the darkness his hands grabbed at the cutting rope he had used for his ascent. He slid and felt the agonizing pain as it tore the flesh off the palms of his hands before he managed to halt his descent.
Yet even with blood dripping from his hands, Uriah Moon managed to lead both the girls out of the canyon confines back to the horses he had left there less than an hour earlier. As they rode at speed across the vast desert toward Fort Hook the storm raged on above them yet none of the three noticed.
Before setting off on the final leg of their journey, the vigilante had thrown his last two sticks of high explosives into the wide mouth of the main canyon.
Moon had driven his spurs into the flesh of his mustang and galloped after the fleeing girls he had already sent off toward the distant fortress.
As Moon had drawn level with the girls astride the cavalry horse, the dynamite exploded furiously behind them. Flames of every color imaginable spewed out in all directions sending fiery rocks and boulders showing over the sand. Lucifer’s Lair had tasted the venom of the valiant vigilante and yet none of that mattered to the courageous horseman as he spurred his mustang on toward the massive fortress.
All he had wanted to do was to get both the Hooper sisters safely through the gates of Fort Hook. Nothing else had mattered to the injured vigilante. Somehow he had managed to survive and saved the golden haired girls from an unimaginable fate.
For the first time since setting out on his daring endeavor, the vigilante sighed with relief.
It was over, he had thought.
Uriah Moon had been wrong.