Goodnight's Dream (A Floating Outfit Western Book 4) (4 page)

‘
Action front!’ Lane barked to his
waiting men. ‘Eight hundred and eighty yards. Load and commence
firing.’

Even while the words were being spoken, the
trained crews started to move. Leaping from their horses and
tossing the reins to the waiting cavalrymen, they ran to the mules.
Swiftly the wheels and carriages were unshipped from the mules that
carried them and assembled. Even as nuts were being tightened to
secure the pieces, the tube was brought from its carrier and fitted
into position. Other men unloaded and opened the ammunition
panniers, two from each mule, lifting the lids to expose the eight
rounds each held.

‘
Three-and-three-quarter-second fuse!’
ordered the sergeant in charge of the ammunition supply, estimating
the time it would take for a spherical case shell to reach its
destination half a mile away.

Obediently the men from One and
Three guns cut into the circular pewter disc of a case shell’s
Borman fuse at the appropriate place. Then they carried their
charges to the guns. Having no need for such refinements as fuses,
the Five gun was first into action. Taking the fixed round from the
man who brought it, the loader tore the paper covering from the
serge powder bag and slid the charge down the 32.9 inch long tube.
Another man used the vent-pick to pierce the powder bag, leaving a
clear way for the flame from the friction primer
^iv
to reach the waiting explosive
charge. Pushing the primer into place, he connected it to the
lanyard and backed clear of the howitzer.

‘
Trail left!’ ordered the gunner,
having set the tube for the desired angle to hurl the solid shot
among the Indians. ‘Right a shade! A touch more! Steady!
Fire!’

Within one minute of Lane’s command, the
Number Five howitzer boomed out its first shot. Five seconds later,
the One and Three guns spoke and their loads rose skywards
following the solid shot’s curving arc towards where the Indians
had already begun their attack down the slope.

Plunging out of the heavens, the solid shot
hurled up a cloud of sand from the west bank of the river. Ignited
by the detonating main powder charge, a spurt of flame crept along
the Borman fuse of each spherical case shell. At best using case
shell, even with the well-designed Borman fuses, was a chancy
business, with premature bursts, or no detonation at all occurring
regularly. The case from the One howitzer exploded some thirty feet
in the air over the Comanches, raining .69 caliber musket balls
down on them. While set for the same time, the other case landed
ahead of the attacking braves before the flame crawling along the
fuse reached and ignited the 4.5 ounce burster charge. However, the
crew of the Three gun had no cause for complaint at the result of
their shot.

Caught in the blast from the
two exploding cases, consternation and pandemonium reigned among
the
Kweharehnuh.
Horses squealed, reared and a couple went down as
musket balls struck them. The charge was halted and changed into a
milling, plunging mass of men and horses.

Urged on by the gunners, the
three howitzer crews made fast time in reloading and altering their
aim. Before the amazed Indians could regain control of their
startled horses, the next solid shot plunged down among them.
Struck by the cannon ball, one of the
tehnap’s
head’s dissolved into bloody pulp and
the man next to him also went down. Then the two spherical case
shells arrived. For once both fuses burned perfectly and the cases
ruptured to spew forth their musket-ball loads. More men and horses
went down under the hail of flying lead.

Brave warriors as the
Kweharehnuh
might be under
normal circumstances, they had never faced cannon-fire and could
not understand the nature of the devilish devices which rained down
on them. Before the braves could recover, the well-served howitzers
belched their third loads into the air. Taken with the sight of
Goodnight leading his men at a charge along the river’s bank, the
arrival of the ball and two spherical cases proved to be the final
straw. Only one of the cases exploded, but a ball from it caught
the war-bonnet chief between the eyes and tumbled him from his
horse.

Seeing their leader go down was all the rest
of the demoralized band needed. Frightened of the unknown they
might be, but they still scooped up all their wounded and most of
the dead in the mad melee caused by turning to escape.

In the lead of his party,
Goodnight saw that the decision to bring the howitzers along had
been fully justified. Around three hundred
Kweharehnuh
had gathered, a force against which
the cowhands and cavalrymen would have stood no chance in an open
fight. Goodnight had hoped that the guns would produce panic, but
knowing the nature of the enemy could not rely on it happening. The
gamble had come off and the way was clear to effect Loving’s
rescue.

At the sight of their
companions disrupted and broken by the artillery bombardment,
without being aware of what caused it, the warriors at the mouth of
the cave turned and ran. Not all of them escaped, for the cowhands
and soldiers cut loose with their revolvers on coming into shooting
range. The rout, however, was as complete as it could be. Watching
the fleeing
Kweharehnuh,
Goodnight doubted if they would stop for miles and
they certainly had no intention of returning to resume the
fight.

Charging his roan through the water,
Goodnight galloped it to the mouth of the cave. He left the saddle
with the horse still running, hurdled the bodies before the
entrance and plunged inside with a Colt in his right hand. Cold
anxiety bit into the rancher at what he saw. Loving sprawled
against the rear wall, blood oozing from the bullet-hole in his
chest and welling up around the arrow that protruded from his
body.

The rescue had come just too late to prevent
the trail-blazing cattleman from being seriously wounded.

‘
How’d it go, John?’
Goodnight asked his
segundo,
wanting to take his mind off what was happening in
the cave.

‘
No trouble, Colonel,’ Poe answered.
‘Fact being, we handled the herd as easy, if not easier, than with
the full crew.’

Although Goodnight would remember the words
at a later date, at that moment he gave them little attention.
Rowdy Lincoln, the trail drive’s cook, appeared at the entrance to
the cave and approached the rancher. Big, burly, wearing
flour-dappled range clothes, the cook’s normally jovial features
held an expression of worry and concern as he halted before his
employer and nodded in the direction from which he had come.

‘
I’ve got the bullet and arrow out,
Colonel Charlie,’ Lincoln said, his voice easy and gentle as it was
except on rare occasions. ‘But he’s still in a mighty poor
shape.’

‘
Can we move him?’ Goodnight
inquired.

‘
His chances aren’t good whether we
take him with us, or let him rest up here. Maybe the post surgeon
at Fort Sumner can do something when we get there—if Oliver lasts
that long.’

It was late afternoon on the day of the
rescue and Rowdy Lincoln had just finished performing his
secondary, but equally important, function as part of the trail
crew. Over the years, through force of necessity, the cook had
gained much experience in the treatment of injuries received far
from any qualified medical attention. So he had been fetched from
the herd by one of Goodnight’s cowhands and went to work at
treating Loving’s wounds on his arrival.

From the rim above the men came the sounds of
the herd passing and John Poe had come down to learn how Loving
fared. From all appearances, the cattleman was in a very bad way
and it would tax Lincoln’s considerable skill to keep him alive.
However, Poe did not allow himself to fall into despondency. He
admired and respected Loving second only to Goodnight but knew that
life must go on.

‘
I’ll get back to the herd, boss,’ Poe
said quietly.

‘
Sure, John,’ Goodnight confirmed.
‘Look for a way down farther along. Water them, push across and
find a bed-ground.’

‘
Yo! The blue-bellies didn’t hang
around long, did they?’

‘
Major Lane’s under orders to reach
Sumner as soon as possible. Anyways, he left us an
escort.’

After a scouting party had been sent out and
returned to say that the Comanches had left the area, Lane had made
his preparations to continue the journey to Fort Sumner. He had,
however, left half of his cavalry escort under a sergeant to travel
with the herd and help fight off further Indian attacks. Maybe the
soldiers left behind had fought against the South in the War, but
they were professionals and forgot their differences. More so
having tasted Rowdy’s cooking and knowing the duty would produce
fresh meat and other good food instead of hardtack or biscuits.

Returning to the herd, Poe guided it along
the rim, found an easy place to descend and completed his
employer’s orders. With the cattle bedded down on the western bank
of the Pecos, the bed-wagon was fitted out to carry the wounded
Loving the remainder of the journey.

During the days that followed, Goodnight had
many misgivings over his partner’s welfare. While the bed-wagon had
been made as comfortable as possible, it was not designed for the
transportation of a seriously wounded man. Yet Loving’s chances
would have been no greater if he had been left under a heavy guard
at the cave. The cattleman’s condition did not improve or seem to
grow worse. Most of the time he lay in a condition of semi-coma,
never complaining, always trying to act cheerfully and aware that
his only slender hope was in reaching the post hospital at Fort
Sumner.

Four days’ drive—around forty
miles—out of the Fort, Goodnight found that Major Lane had not
forgotten Loving. An Army surgeon arrived with a Rocker Ambulance
and small cavalry escort. Examining the wounded cattleman, the
surgeon confirmed Rowdy’s views, praised the cook’s handling of the
injuries and stated that only his skill had kept Loving alive.
However, the cattleman’s condition was critical and the surgeon
wanted to deliver him to Fort Sumner as quickly as possible. The
Rocker ambulance had been designed for the rapid transportation of
wounded passengers over rough, road-less country and was the best
vehicle of its kind so far.
^v
So Goodnight raised no objections to
the transfer.

With Loving carried off in the Rocker
ambulance, the trail drive continued. It went by smoothly, with no
further incidents to mar its progress and the crew began to look
forward to the pleasures awaiting them when they received their
pay. For Goodnight, thoughts of his partner’s condition lessened
the pleasure he felt at having almost completed the drive and being
one step closer to turning his dream into a practical reality.

The arrival of the herd created a stir of
interest at the Fort and among the citizens of the small town that
had grown up outside the walls of the Army post. Views on the
matter in the latter area differed. Some considered that the
Government should not waste money feeding ‘them stinking red
varmints’. Others, having a greater experience of matters Apache
felt only relief that the Army would be able to keep its promises
by supplying meat to the reservations.

However, interested as they were in the
herd’s arrival, the two men standing slightly away from the crowd
of loafers outside the Yellow Stripe saloon subscribed to neither
of the popular views. Their clothing showed that they did not
belong to the area. Although travel-stained, their city suits were
costly and well tailored. The heavy gold watch chains across their
vests and other signs pointed at wealth beyond that of the general
run of the onlookers and their sun-reddened features hinted they
had recently come from some cooler climate to the heat-baked
Territory of New Mexico. One was tall, bluff of appearance, with
side-whiskers and a mouth that smiled frequently even though his
eyes did not. More sober in selection of clothing and some six
inches shorter than his companion, the other had a clean-shaven,
sharp face with a thin, tight mouth.

‘
He made it, Joe,’ the bigger man
remarked unnecessarily as they watched the herd being brought to a
halt on the open ground to the west of the Fort.

‘
Yes, damn him. He made it,’ agreed the
other. ‘Which doesn’t mean that he’ll get that Army beef
contract.’

‘
No. But they’ll be more willing to
consider him now he’s brought in a herd.’

‘
Maybe we should give them other things
to consider about him coming here, Stu,’ the smaller of the dudes
remarked. ‘Like reminding them how those Texas trail hands are all
rebels. There’ll be folks in this town who won’t take kind to
that.’

With the herd brought to a halt, Goodnight
looked to where the Army’s cattle-buying commission was coming from
the Fort. Led by Colonel Hunter, a tall, plump member of the
Quartermaster Corps, the two majors and half-a-dozen enlisted men
studied the cattle. Before he did anything else, Goodnight inquired
as to his partner’s condition and learned there was no change. Then
the men got down to business. The price offered and accepted was
one which Goodnight felt to be most satisfactory and of the
greatest use to his future plans.