Kiowa Vengeance (12 page)

***

It was Benteen who spotted the rider coming
toward them and warned the others.

“Find some cover,” he said. “We don’t know
who it is.”

They scattered, took cover behind some
rocks, or brush, Hix lying down in a dry wash. As Benteen saw that
it was De Courcey, he stepped out, surprising the man, who reined
his horse in hard.

“What the hell are you doing?” De Courcey
asked.

“I might could ask you the same thing,”
Benteen said. “You’re supposed to be riding for Wolf Creek.”

“I was,” De Courcey said, “but I almost ran
into a raiding party. I figured to come back and tell you what you
were walking into. Where are the others?”

As if on cue they all came out from their
hiding places and approached the mounted man.

“You folks hid pretty good,” he said, “but
now you better change your course so you don’t run into those
savages.”

“I guess we better—” Hix started, but
Benteen cut him off.

“Wait,” the gunsmith said. “How many did you
see?”

“About half a dozen.”

Benteen fell silent.

“What are you thinking?” De Courcey
asked.

“I’m thinking you didn’t see any of us when
you rode up here,” Benteen said.

“An ambush?” De Courcey said, catching
on.

“Are you crazy?” Hix said. “You wanna ambush
a bunch of Kiowa renegades?”

“We could use their horses,” Benteen
said.

“Is that even possible?” Cora Sloane asked.
“I mean, can you do that?”

“We can do it,” Benteen said.

“But there are six of them,” Weatherby
said.

“And five of us,” Benteen said. “And we’d
have the drop on them.” He looked at each of them in turn. “But
we’d all have to shoot. All of us.”

“I can’t—” Weatherby started.

“I will,” Cora said. “I will shoot. But how
do we know they’re not peaceful? And how do we get them to come
this way?”

Benteen looked at De Courcey.

“Leave that to me,” De Courcey said, with a
sigh.

***

This time, Sampson Quick didn’t stop when he
saw the renegades. He made sure he and his horse were animated
enough to attract their attention. When the six Kiowa braves
started to whoop and holler and ride toward him, he knew Cora
Sloane didn’t have to worry about them being peaceful.

He waited as long as he could, until he was
sure they were committed to chasing him, then turned and urged his
horse on. In a few strides the animal was moving at top speed, but
as he looked over his shoulder Quick was starting to wonder if he’d
waited too long. With their Indian ponies—unencumbered by
saddles--they seemed to be gaining on him.

He decided to stop peering behind, and just
leaned over his horse’s neck, shouting at the animal to go faster.
Finally he saw ahead the clearing with the other four were waiting,
guns ready.

He hoped.

***

Benteen not only saw De Courcey coming, but
heard the horses that were chasing him.

“Get ready!” he yelled.

He had given both Cora and Weatherby
pistols, and instruction on how to fire them. He felt sure the
woman would do her part, but was worried about Weatherby.

“If you don’t fire this weapon,” he said, as
he handed it to him, “and we live through this, I’ll kill you
myself.”

The drummer nodded and nervously took the
gun.

Now, as De Courcey bore down on their
position with the six renegades close behind, Benteen was hoping
he’d made the right decision.

De Courcey thundered past them. Benteen
fired at the Indians who followed, and heard the others doing the
same. They had the braves in a cross fire, and De Courcey reined
his horse in hard and began to fire, as well.

The Kiowa braves were caught and, before any
of them knew what was happening, half of them were on the ground.
The other three turned to flee, but Benteen stood up and shot
another from his pony’s back. The other two got away as his hammer
fell on empty chambers.

Rather than worrying about the ones that got
away he holstered his gun and quickly ran toward the skittish
ponies. They had blankets on their backs and, for some reason, wore
bridles. This was helpful, because Benteen was able to grab the
reins of two of the animals. Without the reins, he would have had
to try to grab their mane to stop them.

Hix came out from hiding and grabbed a third
pony. The fourth galloped away after the two fleeing braves.

“I’ll get it!” De Courcey shouted, but
before he could start after it Benteen shouted, “No!”

De Courcey stopped, turned and looked at
Benteen.

“Don’t take the chance. There may be more
out there. We’ve got three ponies, let’s use them to get out of
here.”

Cora Sloane and Weatherby came out from
their hiding places. Benteen decided not to check the drummer’s
gun, because if the man hadn’t fired he really would have killed
him.

“I don’t think I hit anything,” Cora said,
handing him back the pistol.

“That’s okay, ma’am,” Benteen said. “You
added to the chaos, which helped. Okay, come on. Hix, you get on
one pony—Weatherby, you get on the other.”

“And me?” Cora asked.

“You can ride double with me or Mister De
Courcey.”

“I suggest me,” De Courcey said. “My horse
is bigger, and she’ll be more secure with the saddle.”

“Fine,” Benteen said. “Take ‘er.”

Cora walked to De Courcey’s horse, took his
proffered hand so that he could pull her up behind him. “Hold on
tight,” he said. She slid her arms around his waist.

Weatherby whined, “I-I can’t ride without a
saddle.”

“You’ll ride,” Benteen said, “or die. Your
choice.”

Grumbling, Weatherby struggled to mount the
Indian pony.

Benteen looked at De Courcey.

“Hix should take the lead,” he said. “He
knows the way to Wolf Creek.”

“Agreed,” De Courcey said. “Mister Hix?”

“This way,” Hix said.

***

They could no longer head in a straight line
for Wolf Creek. They were liable to run into more renegades. They
needed to take a longer route, circling to the West since Quick had
seen the Kiowa coming from the east.

They rode hard, hoping against hope they
would not run into another raiding party, or—even worse—the main
body of the Kiowa renegades. They would not be as lucky as they
were with the last bunch.

Abruptly, after nearly half an hour, De
Courcey rode up on Hix and shouted at him to stop. Behind them they
all reined in, Weatherby nearly falling off his horse.

“What is it?” Benteen asked, riding up on De
Courcey and Hix.

“Up ahead,” De Courcey said, pointing to a
cloud of red dust that rose in the distance.

“Riders,” Benteen said.

“A good number of them,” De Courcey
said.

They all looked around them at the flat
ground.

“Where do we go?” Cora asked.

“We can turn and run,” Hix said.

“Or stand our ground,” De Courcey said.

“And die?” Weatherby asked.

For once, he had said something that made
sense. If they remained where they were and did nothing, they might
die.

“I think I should scout ahead,” De Courcey
said.

“They’re not that far away,” Benteen
warned.

“I know,” De Courcey said. He moved his
horse closer to Benteen’s. “Take her.”

Instead, Benteen said, “I’ll do it. Be ready
to run,” and kicked his pony into action.

***

“Rider, comin’ fast, Captain,” Charley
Blackfeather said.

Captain Thomas Dent nodded and said, “We’ll
stand and wait, see what he does when he sees us.”

“Want the company to dismount, Cap’n?”
Sergeant Nagy asked.

“No,” Dent said. “Just stand ready. This
rider may be an advance scout for somebody.”

“You think Stone Knife sends out scouts?”
Nagy asked.

“Could be,” Charley Blackfeather said.

“We’ll see,” Dent said.

They all stood ready.

***

When Benteen saw that the riders were
soldiers he heaved a sigh of relief and waved at them. They stayed
where they were and waited for him.

“Am I glad to see you,” he said, as he
reached them.

“Captain Thomas Dent, C troop, United States
Calvary. Identify yourself, please,” the man with the Captain’s
bars said.

“Dave Benteen,” the gunsmith said. “I was on
a stage with some people on our way to Wolf Creek when we got hit
by a raiding party.”

“Other survivors?”

“Four,” Benteen said. “Well, three other
passengers and another rider we came across.”

“Where are they?” Dent asked.

“A little further back. We spotted your dust
and I rode ahead to scout. We’ve already had a second go-round with
a raiding party.”

“That where you got the pony?” Dent
asked.

“That’s right. We need horses, and when we
ran across them we were able to bushwhack them. We killed four, but
two got away.”

“I’m Charley Blackfeather,” the Seminole
scout said with a curt nod of greeting. “Those two have probably
already reported back to Stone Knife.”

“We were riding for Wolf Creek to warn
them,” Benteen said.

“No need for that,” Dent said. “They know
what’s coming and they’re as ready as they can be.”

“Then we need to get there,” Benteen. “I’m
with John Hix, the barber.”

“I know John,” Charley said. “Who else?”

“The new schoolteacher, Cora Sloane, a
drummer named Weatherby. We also ran into a fella named De
Courcey.”

“And you?” Dent asked. “You live in Wolf
Creek?”

“I’m on my way there to be the new
gunsmith.”

“Well, let’s get to your people,” Dent said.
“Then we can decide what to do.”

“We have to get to Wolf Creek.”

“That might not be so easy,” Dent said.
“With your information, we now know about several raiding parties.
But sooner or later they’ll join with Stone Knife and hit the
town.”

“All the more reason we should get there to
help,” Benteen said.

“Mister Benteen,” Dent said, “like I said,
let’s join your people, and then I’ll decide what to do.”

Benteen didn’t like the sound of that. He
wasn’t in the Army, and he’d be damned if he let this man decide
his fate. But he said, “I’ll take you to them.”

***

When Benteen appeared with the soldiers
behind him Cora Sloane almost cried. Weatherby did, as he finally
allowed himself to fall off the pony.

Benteen made the introductions—though
several members of the cavalry troop already knew Hix from Wolf
Creek. Dent had some of the soldiers give the civilians water, and
some food. He then huddled with Charley Blackfeather, Benteen, Hix
and Quick.

“I wouldn’t like to allow you to continue on
to Wolf Creek,” Dent said. “You might run into another raiding
party, or a larger force of renegades. Possibly Stone Knife
himself.”

“What’s our other option?” Benteen asked.
“Ride with you? You’ve got maybe twenty men. We’ve seen two raiding
parties of maybe a dozen braves.”

“More,” Quick said. “I encountered one
before we met up.”

“There you go,” Benteen said. “Three raiding
parties matches your number. That means Stone Knife’s force
outnumbers your troop. You’re tracking a force that could probably
wipe you out.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” Dent
said.

“Captain,” Charley Blackfeather said, “he
may be right.”

“What do you suggest, Charley?” Dent asked.
Benteen could see that the soldier put a lot of stock in what
Blackfeather had to say.

“I been thinkin’ about this for a while,”
the Seminole said. “I think maybe you and me should ride to Fort
Braxton while the troop takes these people to Wolf Creek.”

“Old Mountain?” Dent said.

Charley Blackfeather nodded.

“What’s this?” Benteen asked.

“Old Mountain is supposed to be going in to
Fort Braxton to discuss terms,” Dent said. “Charley’s thinking we
may be able to get him to talk Stone Knife down before he attacks
Wolf Creek.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Benteen said.

“Better than running around out here,” Quick
said.

“Sergeant,” Dent said, “you and the troop
will escort these people safely to Wolf Creek, and then remain
there to aid them in defending the town.”

“You sure about that, Cap’n?” Nagy
asked.

“I’m, sure, Sergeant,” Dent said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Charley?”

“I’m with you, Captain.”

Dent nodded and sighed. “All right then,
Charley. Let’s ride.”

***

Emory Charleston stared straight into the
horizon. He thought he saw something even before he heard the
whoops and shots.

“Sheriff!”

Sheriff Satterlee turned from the blockade
and looked at the blacksmith.

“Y’all better come and look at this,”
Charleston said.

“Shore it up on that side,” Satterlee told
someone. “This barricade has to save our lives.” He turned and
walked over to stand with Charleston. ”What the hell—”

“Looks like they bein’ chased,” Charleston
said.

“Everybody get your weapons. Asa, get
somebody and be ready to move that buckboard. We’re gonna have to
let them in here.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff,” Asa Pepper said.

“This ain’t good,” Satterlee said, as it
became clear that the men being chased by the Indians were
soldiers. “Ain’t good at all.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

As Benteen, Quick, Weatherby and Cora
approached the barricaded main street with the soldiers around
them, somebody moved a buckboard, creating an opening in the wall.
Meanwhile, riflemen up on the rooftops began firing at the Kiowa
who were chasing them. They had been a mile from town, almost home
free, when the large party of Kiowa suddenly appeared. Several
troopers were shot from their horses before they could react, and
then it made sense simply to ride for town.