Sweet Savage Surrender (37 page)

His answer chilled John to the very bone.  He trembled with suppressed rage.  "I've got to do something, Sam.  And quickly, John exclaimed softly."  He put his face in his hands.  "Dear God, I've brought Skyraven and her people here to be sitting ducks.
But I didn’t know. I couldn’t have guessed. I thought Evans meant what he said about protecting them, and I thought it was the only way….”

"What are you going to do?"  Sam whispered
behind
his hand
, keeping an eye on
Chivington’s
face.

"I don't know, but I've got to think of something.  I've got to get out of here and ride to warn
them.  They don’t know
of Evan's latest proclamation.  They don't know that they are fair game for any white man with a gun."

That night John made good on his word, deciding that if Chivington
confronted him about his absenc
e he would tell him that he had gone to see  William Bent at his trading post. It wasn't unusual for some of the officers to frequent the place, purchasing items they could not get at the fort.  It was the only way, for he knew that Chivington  would never give him leave to warn
his Indian friends.  In actuality,
he would ride like hell to Skyraven's camp and warn Chief Left Hand to be careful, to be ready in case there was trouble.  In the meantime
,
he would try by every legal channel he knew to stop this all out rampage against the Indians.  Even if he had to write
to President Lincoln himself!

Saddling his horse, an animal that was black and therefore nearly invisible in the dark, he rode up to the gates, thankful that  Sam was able to finagle it so that he was  on guard
duty.   "Open the gate, Sam."

"I always obey my superiors, Sir,"  Sam answered with a wink, knowing full well what John was up to.  "I'll try to cover for you while you are gone.  If I'm clever enough
,
the old toad won't even realize you're not here.  I'll tell him you're in the infirmary or something i
f he starts asking questions."

"Thanks, Sam."  John waited as the he
avy doors creaked and groaned.

"
If I tell him you've got food poisoning he'll undoubtedly believe it,"  Sam was sayin
g.  "Food around here is....."

Suddenly as if from out of no
where Colonel Chivington stepped forward.  "Ar
e you going somewhere, Major?"

John turned around  on his horse very slowly. "Thought I'd visit Bent's Fort, Colonel," he said trying to maintain his smile.  "Seems
there isn't any tobacco here."

"You don't smoke, or chew as I recall,"  Colonel Chivington said caustical
ly, moving out of the shadows.

"No, he doesn't, Sir, but
I
do,"  Sam said q
uickly.  
"Got a hankering right now
,
as a matter of fact.  Makes me fidgety and nigh on as cross as a bear.  Th
e major was doing me a favor."

"The Major was going to see those Indians of his.  I'm not a fool.  I thought he would do just such a thing.  That's why I've had him watched.  The minute he saddled his horse I knew I had him."  He stepped out of the shadows, hovering om
inously over the two men.

I
f only I weren't commissioned in the army
, John thought. 
Just an uppercut to the chin and I'd soon have him out of my way
.  But to dare to touch a man in Chivingt
on's position was pure insanity, and a
ll he could do was to get down off his horse.  "Perhaps you would like to come with me," he said, thinking quickly.  "That way you'll see that it was to the
fort that I was headed."

"
Even if you
were
going there it would be just as damaging to your reputation.  William Bent is married to a squaw and has children of mixed blood.  To my mind
, that brands him a traitor
.  He is
clearly
on
the Indians' side
."  Chivington called the men standing nearby together and out an order to all in range of hearing.  "Now hear this.  Major John Hanlen is hereafter confined to this fort under my direct order.  He is not to leave under any circumstances.  Any man opening the gate to him will himself be considered i
nsubordinate.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir.
"  Sam said, hanging his head.

"Yessssss, Sir!"  The rest of those assemble
d answered one by one in echo.

"Tomorrow I'll advise every
soldier of my order, Major." 

"And just what are the charges, Colonel?"  John asked
coolly
.  He imagined he would soon find himself in the brig again as threatened.  If so
,
he'd get word to his father.  Surely h
is father would have received John’s letter by now.

"No charges, Major."  Chivington smiled like a cat cornering a canary.  "I am merely assigning you duty here."  With a wave of his hand, the colonel dismisse
d the soldiers lurking nearby.

"Yes, Sir."  Well, John thought, at least he wasn't going to be put in the brig.  He wouldn't have been much help to Skyraven and her people from there.  He'd wait until Chivington's anger cooled and find a way to sneak out  by climbing over the wall if necessary.  "Yes,
Sir," he said again, saluting.

"Oh, and Major."  Chivington withdrew a piece of white paper from the inside lining of his jacket.  "I just wanted you to know that your
father won't be getting this."

"What?"  John gasped in surprise, recognizing his letter.  Somehow the old bastard had intercepted it.  He flinched as he remembered all he had said, yet he kept his jaw from ticking somehow.  "That letter is personal, Sir.  I would appreciat
e it if you would send it on."

"Send it on?  I think not, Major.  You see  I consider it to have matters within that are of a sensitive nature.  Were it to fall into enemy hands it might prove to be d
etrimental.  Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir."  John reached for it,  longing to have it again in his possession
,
but Chivington playfully held it just out of re
ach.

"I think it better to keep this letter on file, if you know what I mean,"  Chivington said warningly.  John did know what he meant. 

At that moment John
fully realized just how cunning and devious the colonel really was.  He realized something
else
as well.  He had just targeted himself for
severe trouble and had made
himself Chivington's foremost enemy.

             
             
             
             
             
Chapter Thirty-Nine

It was growing cold.  Skyraven hugged a blanket around her form as she sat huddled in her tepee.  She was growing thinner day by day
,
for although John Hanlen had promised that they would be given food, the white men had not kept their word
and no supply wagons had brought in food to the camp. Still, she would not listen to any criticism against
her white soldier.  Such things took time, she argued, and was supported in what she said by Chief
Left Hand and her grandfather.

"The war to the south is still going on.  Perhaps the white men have not been able to get their wagons through to us,"
Buffalo
's Brother had said.  "And those of our tribe who make war on the soldier
s are not helping the matter."

Were the soldiers having a hard time with the other Indian tribes?  Skyraven supposed that they were
,
and she worried about her yellow-haired lover, hoping that he had not been injured in the fighting far to the east.  Chief Left Hand had kept the tribe informed of what was happening and had even made a journey into
Kansas
to see for himself.  The Kiowa, Comanche
, a large band of warring
Cheyenne
and a small band of Left Hand's braves led by
Lone Wolf, had been causing
havoc
, joining with Chief Bull Bear’s dog soldiers again
. 
Horses and cattle had been stolen, ranches raided, many whites had been scalped, men, women
and children killed, white hostages taken.  He said it caused him shame that any of his own had taken part
in these atrocities after it had been decided to live in peace. Indians did not break their word, he said
.  He
denounced Lone Wolf as  his son.

Skyraven had been very proud of Chief Left Hand
,
for he and Black Kettle had acted as mediators  and been instrumental in  securing the
release
of a white woman hostage and three little children.  He had ridden forward to parley with the dark-haired Major and had assured him of his intent to remain at peace.  Because of this effort
,
he had been taken to the white man's City of
Denver
and spoken with the chief called Evans.   Left Hand had promised the white leade
r that he would keep the peace.

Skyraven had asked Chief Left Hand if he had seen John Hanlen
,
but
the chief  h
ad said no and that worried her anew. 
That she
had
not seen her white soldier in several weeks was a source of worry to her. He
had
told her that he would come to her, and yet not once had she seen his face.

In the meantime she did what she could to help the others, rationing out the meager food stuffs they had and sharing them with Black Kettle's
Cheyenne
. Sugar, coffee, flour, rice and bacon were often swapped back and forth when one of the Indians was able to find something the white man wanted and thus traded it for food. One thing that gladdened Skyraven's heart was that Desert Flower and Blue Fox were not very far away,
close enough that she could ride
to their portion of the village and talk with them.
Black Kettle had absorbed Lean Bear’s people into his band, since Blue Fox had not wanted to be chief and no other had yet been chosen.

As if her thoughts had caused her to materialize
,
she looked up now to see Desert Flower standing at the entrance to her tepee.  "Blue Fox caught two squirrels this morning.  We thought that you and your grandfather would like to have one."  She held the small animal up like a trea
sured prize.

Rising to her feet, Skyraven took the offering.  "And I have something for you."  She
rummaged
in a leather pouch and came up with the oblong brown vegetables.  "Potatoes. 
Chief Left Hand has recently made
friends with the men at the
post. 
They allow him to trade buffalo skins for provisions."  She didn't want to demean her chief by telling her friend that as a condition of receiving such food stuffs they had had to give up their weapons, horses and mules, as if they were prisoners.  Left Hand had complied, giving up three rifles, one pistol, sixty bows and quivers, four horses and ten mules
, saying they would not need them where they were.

Desert Flower bit into the
potato
and cocked her head.  "Strange
tasting, but not unpleasant."

"The white men like them so much that some of them  grow them outside their homes.  If you take off the brown skins and boil them wit
h meat they taste very good."

"Hmmmm."  Desert Flower laughed.  "I can not help but think how very strange the white ways are.  They life in boxes that can not be moved,  keep their animals confined, think they can own the land the Man Above gave to every man.  Now you tell me they plant these brown vegetables.  Why, when the earth is filled with plenty in spring if
you just know where to look."

"I suppose they want to  keep control of their world.  They seem to value freedom not at all.  In truth
,
it seems they even want to control us.  Why else would they ha
ve put us here upon this land?" There were times when Sky raven
wis
hed the council had voted to stay just where they were. The
Ind
ia
ns near the smoky Hill area were protecting their camp. How, in fact, did the white men expect the
Ind
ia
ns to prepare for the winter when they had no means to shoot fresh meat to be dried?
             

"I do not know,” Desert Flower sighed. “
I only know that I am anxious to leave.  I do not like the way the white soldiers look upon the women wh
enever they come to our camp."

"Nor do I.  I hope that soon we will be able to go to our winter grounds in the far west, where the red rocks form those beautiful mountains.  The traders called it "
Boulder
"."  She thought about taking John Hanlen there and climbing with him all the way to the top of one of the mountains where they could be alone and make love in a place where th
ey could nearly touch the sky.

"You have "that look" in your eyes."  Desert Flower said with a smile.  "You are thinking of
your white soldier, aren't you?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully.  "I am worried, for I have not seen him in so lon
g.
” It had in fact been months since she had ridden beside him on their trek near the sandy creek.  She supposed he must be very busy and hope to see him soon.  “
I wonder just where he is."

At that moment John Hanlen was  marching back and forth with the other soldiers at the parade grounds, wishing he could find a way to slip free and vault over  the wall.  He paused for just a moment in his stride, an action that sent several pair of eyes in his direction.  It was useless to even think of leaving the fort.  He was being watched like a hawk by those anxious to find favor with Chivington.  His only consolation was that so far the Indian camps on the s
and creek had come to no harm.

Even so, he was beginning to fit together all the pieces of Evan's "proclamations".  The governor was anxious to enlist his hundred-day volunteers, as they were being called.  Posters had been put up all over
Denver
City
, or so he had heard.  There were war meetings being held, speeches made.  In order to promote enlistments
,
the businessmen of
Denver
ha
d
petitioned
the colonel to establish martial law. 
Indeed
,
he had hear
d that the whole affair was
being treated as a business proposition. 
Entrepreneurs  had begun scrambling for contracts
to equip
the new outfit.  It was beginning to look as if quite a few people were going to be making money on Evans "little Indian war". 
Ind
eed, the process of equipping the outfit enriched many a greedy
Denver
merchant who
had
busily scrounged government contracts.

As for Chivington
,
it had been proven that he had no scruples when he had so brutally ordered the execution of the Reynolds gang.  Now the man who had carried out his gruesome orders was the very same
man he had chosen to head the hundred day volunteers. Lieutenant George L. Shoup had even been made a colonel.
Quite a promotion, though John didn't envy him his command.  It was the sorriest collection of flophouse scoundrels, claim jumpers, street thugs and assorted riffraff to ever put on the blue uniform of the United States Army.
But then, steady, reliable men did not rush off on one-hundred day forays to kill and maim.

"The bloodless third", some had taken to calling
Evan's and Chivington's pet army,
since so far no blood had been shed by any in their ranks.
Along the Platte, things had been relatively quiet except for a small party of ten
Cheyennes
who had raided a ranch.  It seemed that Chivington and Evans had made a major miscalculation.  With the winter coming up
,
the Indians would not choose to fight
but would be more prone to peace
.  Instead they would be more prone to peace.  The "bloodless third" would find themselves without any adversaries. 
John could only ho
pe that it would stay that way. Even so, he still wanted to go to Skyraven, just to advise her of all that was going on.

"Walk lively, Major.  You're getting out of step."  Joh
n was startled by Sam's fervent
whisper and hurried to keep up.  Bless Sam Dunham!  He was John's only haven of security in a raging storm, the only one he knew he could trust.  It was Sam to whom he had given another letter to his father, as close to a duplicate of the first letter as he could recall.  Sam had sent it by mail from
Denver
.  It well might be John's only hope, if
only it didn't arrive too late.

John had heard the talk around the fort.  The men of the hundred days volunteer army were beginning to complain strongly that
might never be given
a chance to kill Indians.  They were a
s
Sam called it "chomping at the bit".  John was beginning to realize that all the hostile Indians were moving out of
Colorado
, or at least taking refuge for the winter in the moun
tainous areas of the territory.
The others were readying themselves for the pre-winter buffalo hunt and thus behaving more peacefully than they had in some months. He thought about it all as he carried out his rifle
maneuvers
.  A hell of a time to put together an Indian-fighting regiment, especially a disorderly crew, into the field
, he thought.

As soon as the practice drilling was over John sought out Sam in their favorite meeting place, the stables.  "Have you heard anything more about what's happening outside?  What ha
s William Bent told you?"

"It seems that Evans is involved in a heated controversy over statehood, but it was defeated.  And....."  Sam grinned.  "Old Chivington was badly beaten in  the election for the position of delegate to Congress representing the
territory
of
Colorado
."

"I almost wish that he had won.  That would have gotten him ou
t of here," John quipped dryly.

"But our friend Chivington hasn't given up.  He got enough votes to give him hope.  He's stil
l hoping for that Indian war."

"I think Evans is too.  He made a big show of getting men to fight Indians.  Insisted they were needed here. He's going to be a laughingstock if he never engage
s the "third" in any fighting." The hundred days is almost…..” 
Sam hushed his voice to a whisper as they heard someone coming.  Knowing it wouldn't be wise to let it be known they were meeting clandestinely, they both shrank back in the sha
dows.

"Yeah, that's what I heard," a deep male voice was saying.  "The Third Colorado Volunteers", the hundred-dayers are headed this way.  Gonna at last
kill themselves some Indians."

"Is that why all this hay and corn has been issued for Chivington's stock?
” The man who asked the question had just a hint of a lisp. “
And why I had to load all those rations of bacon and hardtack into
wagons today?  God almighty!"

"The only problem I have with that is that to my way of think
ing they're peaceful Indians."