Trail to Devil's Canyon Read online

  Iron Crow shook his head.

  ‘We are not fools, Kozlov! We do not trust soldier justice! You will give the criminals to us, and they will all die in a way the council decides.’

  ‘Listen, chief—’

  ‘You were brought here to listen to me, Kozlov, and I have spoken,’ Iron Crow interrupted. ‘Send out the soldiers who have blood on their hands, and I will spare the others.’ The old chief rose to his feet, signifying that the interview was at the end. ‘You have until the sun is at its highest, Kozlov. If the soldiers are not put outside the gates before then, everyone in that outpost will die. Hear my words, Kozlov. Blood will run like a river!’

  ‘I will think on your words, Iron Crow.’

  ‘Go, Kozlov,’ the chief said in dismissal. ‘You walk safely back to the stockade.’

  Iron Crow folded his arms. Standing a shadow’s length away, the medicine man, Last Buffalo, stared like a snake about to strike. Anton walked past the shaman and set his face for the outpost. A drum sounded. Paiute Indians brandished weapons as the white man headed across the open ground. He did not look back. He just walked slowly, taking his time. It would have been of no use to argue with Iron Crow. The chief had given him a straightforward choice: hand over the five soldiers to pay for their crime or everyone inside the outpost, including the innocent, would be butchered.

  Kozlov knew full well what penalties the guilty men would face. A slow-roasting over the torture fires was the most likely ending for Judd and the four troopers if they were surrendered to the Paiute Indians. Worse still, they could be given to the squaws. No death was slower and more agonizing than their razor-sharp skinning knives. Anton could not see himself surrendering anyone to such a death, let alone someone who was his stepson. The alternative was even more terrible, however – violent death for everyone in the stockade, guilty and innocent alike. He thought of Lucy Doniphon, starting a new life – Clara Weathers heavy with child – young Trooper Loomis.

  He kept walking.

  The ring of warriors was like a pack of hunting dogs waiting to be unleashed. Anton was under no illusions. There was simply not enough firepower in the stockade. They might withstand two charges with luck on their side, but sheer weight of numbers would swamp the defenders then. Once the walls were scaled, the butchery would begin.

  No one would be spared in the blood-letting frenzy. Damn the lieutenant! Damn the soldiers who had betrayed their uniforms!

  The drumming was mounting to a wild crescendo as he walked into the shadow of the stockade wall.

  He headed straight for the gate. Judd’s sharp command rang out and Anton heard the scrape of the heavy, iron bar. Big hands pulled the gate open just a little, and Anton stepped through the gap. Trooper Hal Yacey kicked the gate shut.

  ‘Well?’ Judd demanded from the platform above. ‘You were out there long enough with those savages.’

  Anton looked around the stockade. The settlers were all at their posts. Tuck Gravens stood beside his lieutenant. Ben Copeland smoked a cigar while pacing the western platform. Yacey replaced the iron bar back on the gate. Lucy stood anxiously in the doorway of the officers’ quarters. Anton picked up his rifle and gun belt.

  ‘I want everyone out here,’ Kozlov announced. ‘There is somethin’ everyone needs to hear.’

  Judd’s eyes narrowed as he asked, ‘What is it?’

  ‘You can hear it right along with everybody else,’ Anton said tersely.

  ‘Yacey,’ he said to the nearest trooper, ‘spread the word.’

  ‘And leave all the walls unguarded?’ Hal Yacey asked incredulously.

  ‘We are safe till noon,’ Anton reassured.

  Yacey looked to his lieutenant for advice.

  ‘Lieutenant?’ he queried.

  ‘Do what he says,’ Judd Reed told the frowning trooper.

  Anton turned and started across the parade ground. As he waited near the women’s shelter, he rolled a cigarette. Lucy came to stand beside her future husband. Clara stepped awkwardly into the square, followed by the other women. The preacher’s wife lingered in the open doorway, keeping an eye on her patient, Trooper Loomis. Anton lit his cigarette as the men approached. He drew deeply until everyone was near enough to hear him.

  ‘I have spoken with Iron Crow, the chief,’ he began. ‘I believe him to be an honorable man, and he has offered us a deal.’ He flicked his cigarette and looked around the circle of soldiers and settlers. ‘Iron Crow told me that five soldiers violated and murdered some Paiute maidens.’ As he paused, Yacey’s hand moved to his holster. Copeland and Gravens exchanged glances. Lieutenant Judd Reed’s face turned ashen. ‘The chief said their trail led here.’

  ‘You mean – to this stockade?’ Reverend Roberts asked hoarsely.

  ‘Chief Iron Crow said the blue-coats are in here right now,’ Anton said simply. ‘His deal is this. If those soldiers are handed over to his warriors for punishment, there will be no more killin’.’

  ‘And if we do not?’ Jed Bliss asked.

  ‘They will kill us all and probably stay on the warpath after that,’ Anton replied.

  ‘So, what did you tell the stinking Injun?’ Judd demanded.

  Anton did not answer him.

  ‘I want to show you somethin’,’ he said soberly. He reached into his hip pocket and took out the ragged piece of blue tunic. Then he held the shred of material high to the wind until it fluttered. ‘Anyone recognize this?’

  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Trooper Ben Copeland sneered.

  ‘Don’t waste our time, Kozlov!’ Tuck Gravens warned.

  ‘I notice a tear in the back of your tunic, Judd,’ Anton said. ‘I reckon this piece fits it real snug.’

  Judd’s face darkened, and the muscle just below his swollen left eye started to twitch, as much as it could as battered as it was. He rested his right hand on his holstered army pistol.

  ‘What the hell are you getting at, Old Moscow?’ Judd demanded in a voice heavy with menace.

  ‘This piece of army tunic was found in the hand of one of the dead women,’ Anton said. ‘She had been raped and her throat had been cut.’

  ‘And you believe the word of a dirty, stinking Injun?’ Judd exploded scornfully.

  Anton eyed the officer. ‘I am goin’ to ask you straight.’

  ‘Ask away,’ Judd Reed challenged.

  ‘Did you and your troopers do it or not? Somebody in a US army uniform killed those women. . . .’

  There was a long, painful silence. Lucy Doniphon’s hand fell from Judd’s arm, and she stepped away from him without looking at him.

  ‘You bastard!’ Judd hissed.

  Hal Yacey had his Colt halfway out of the holster.

  ‘Just say the word, Lieutenant, and I will. . .’

  ‘No, you won’t soldier!’ Reverend Burt Roberts roared behind his leveled rifle. ‘Put that hardware back where it belongs, or as God is my judge, I will send you to hell right this very minute!’ The preacher waited until Yacey dropped the pistol back into its leather. ‘That’s better. Now I want to hear some answers to Anton’s question.’

  ‘I – I will give you an answer,’ Trooper Alan Loomis cried from inside the building where he lay.

  ‘Button your goddamn lip, Loomis!’ Judd snapped harshly.

  ‘You are sick, Loomis; go rest up,’ Yacey advised him.

  ‘Yes, I am sick, all right, but I am not the only one,’ Trooper Loomis called back. ‘We were all sick that afternoon. You, me, the lieutenant – all of us. . . .’

  ‘Shut his mouth!’ Judd snarled.

  Roberts backed to the door, his rifle leveled.

  ‘We are going to hear Trooper Loomis,’ he said sternly.

  ‘Sorry, Lieutenant,’ Loomis apologized, ‘but these folks dug out my bullet and tended to me. Since their lives are at stake, the least I owe them is the truth!’

  ‘We are listenin’, Loomis,’ Anton said.

  ‘Loomis, I will tell them what happened!’ Judd cut in. ‘I am
in command here, and it is my place to speak.’ He folded his arms and eyed the settlers. ‘Listen to me and judge for yourselves. We were riding back after doing our sworn duty, which happened to be tracking down some yellow deserters who didn’t have the decency to stand up for their own kind. . . . We came across some squaws. There they were, cavorting around without a stitch of clothing on. For anybody that doesn’t know already, they are not like our white women. You could have any of them for a plug of tobacco.’ He grinned and winked at the valley men. ‘Well, we did what comes naturally – we just helped ourselves.’

  ‘It is what they expected,’ Copeland chimed in.

  ‘Useless Injun trash,’ Yacey added. ‘I don’t know what the hell all the fuss is about!’

  ‘Hal’s right,’ Judd said.

  Lucy took another step away from the soldier she had promised to marry.

  ‘Judd,’ she said in the heavy silence. ‘I came all this way to be your wife. Why couldn’t you wait for me? Why did you have to do this?’

  The lieutenant turned on her savagely: ‘Shut your mouth, woman! I am a man!’

  ‘Don’t worry, ma’am,’ Yacey laughed. ‘They weren’t white women, just Injuns. Trash. It didn’t mean a thing, and it don’t count for nothing.’

  ‘That is not quite right,’ Anton said solemnly. ‘The young woman Judd attacked was Chief Iron Crow’s granddaughter. He raped and killed a princess.’

  ‘Crap!’ Judd hissed.

  ‘You raped her, and then you slit her throat,’ Anton accused.

  ‘It was their fault,’ Hal Yacey mumbled. ‘One of them pulled a knife. What were we supposed to do?’

  ‘Like Hal said, they were all Injun trash anyway,’ Judd shrugged.

  ‘Trash? It is clear to see who the real trash is,’ Anton said slowly, visibly upset.

  Judd Reed bristled with anger.

  ‘Quit your goddamn preaching, you Injun-lover!’

  ‘I seem to remember that is what you said at Old Bootleg Canyon, too.’ Kozlov reminded him. ‘You raped and killed helpless Indians then. You have not changed at all.’

  ‘Forget about Old Bootleg Canyon,’ Judd advised him darkly.

  ‘Forget about it? How could anyone forget about that?’ Anton demanded. ‘You led a charge into the village. Lice like Yacey here rode with you, smokin’ cigars and laughin’ like it was a wild turkey shoot. You raped the young women, and you shot anyone who moved – old men, women, even children.’

  ‘The court martial didn’t see it that way,’ Lieutenant Judd Reed smirked. ‘Remember? They weren’t about to believe the evidence of a quitter who would go against his own family.’

  ‘We are family,’ Anton shot back. He walked towards the lieutenant, halting directly in front of him.

  ‘I will give you a history lesson, Judd,’ he said. ‘I admitted to bein’ dazed at the time. That was because I protested when you gave the order, and one of your troopers smashed a rifle into the back of my head so I couldn’t spoil your fun. I was dazed, Judd, but I saw and heard enough.’

  ‘Whatever the reason, we were acquitted,’ the lieutenant insisted. ‘No military court convicts a soldier for killing savages – not then, not now. Killing savages like these Paiutes ain’t a crime.’

  ‘Iron Crow doesn’t see it like that, and he is holdin’ all the high cards this time,’ Anton reminded him.

  ‘So, what are you gonna do, Old Moscow?’ Judd jeered. ‘Try to turn us over to those heathen savages to save your own skin?’

  Gravens and Copeland lifted their rifles and stepped back. Forming a line of three, Trooper Hal Yacey wrapped his fingers around his holstered gun. Their lieutenant joined them, and the four uniformed men stood there defiantly, daring anyone to make a move. Anton glanced at the settlers. Weathers and Bliss just gaped, baffled and nervous. No one had seen Dave Calhoun draw his gun but the .45 was in his hands and leveled. Beside him, Will Alvord had his double-barreled shotgun aimed at the blue-coats and his thick fingers were already curled around the triggers. Reverend Roberts’ eyes blazed with righteous fury.

  ‘There are innocent women and children, not to mention an unborn babe, in this stockade,’ Roberts thundered. ‘If you had any decency, anything remotely resembling a conscience, you and your troopers would walk out there and take what is coming to you.’

  ‘Save the sermon, preacher,’ Judd scoffed. ‘There is no chance of us doing that, and no one here has the guts to try to make us!’

  ‘Don’t push your luck,’ Calhoun said coldly.

  ‘That is good advice,’ Will Alvord said flatly.

  Anton stood between the blue-coats and the angry settlers.

  ‘Swappin’ lead won’t solve anythin’. When I put the cards on the table, I was givin’ these men a chance to do what is right. I am not surprised that they turned out to be yellow.

  ‘These gutless excuses for cavalrymen will have to live with their cowardice. We don’t have the right to force any man to walk out to a torture fire.’ Anton appraised them all. ‘We have no choice now but to stand together.’

  Chapter 7

  Traitors and Hell-fire

  The drums had stopped – all thought thankfully and nervously.

  What did it mean?

  There was a long silence broken only by the sound of the wind. Hardly a shadow darkened Devil’s Canyon. Within minutes the sun would be at its zenith.

  Anton Kozlov’s eyes swept over the last outpost west – the stockade. Men with rifles watched and waited.

  Dave Calhoun had resumed his position at the eastern wall. He was one who had disagreed with Anton. He would have taken his chances against Judd and his troopers and handed over any blue-coat survivors to the Paiute Indians. Maybe Calhoun was right.

  Right now, Trooper Tuck Gravens was joining him on the eastern platform. Grayson Weathers and Will Alvord manned the south wall with Alan Loomis. They had hauled the wounded trooper to his feet and helped him to the platform where he stood propped up against the wall. Jed Bliss, Burt Roberts and Trooper Ben Copeland lined the western extremities of the stockade. Judd Reed and Trooper Hal Yacey stood together on the parade ground. Except for Lucy Doniphon, the women were inside, huddled together upstairs where the officers used to sleep when the stockade had been active.

  Suddenly the drums sounded again, and the Paiute Indians began to chant. The painted warriors moved their ponies a few paces closer, just like a noose being tightened. Yellow Hawk and Wind Shawl broke through the circle and sat staring at the stockade walls.

  ‘Anton, what are they doing?’ Lucy asked as she approached the older mountain man.

  ‘It is the death chant,’ he told her coldly.

  Lucy looked around the painted circle of Indian warriors.

  ‘We are all going to die, aren’t we?’ she asked dully.

  ‘It doesn’t look good for us, Lucy,’ the mountain man admitted.

  She clasped his left arm, clinging to him.

  ‘We rode together for a long time. You could have told me what kind of man the lieutenant was.’

  ‘At the time, I had my reasons for not sayin’ anythin’ about him,’ Anton said.

  ‘Oh, OK.’

  He looked straight at her. She was so close he could have wrapped his right arm around her. Their eyes met and held as the awesome death chant from the Paiute rose to a terrible crescendo.

  ‘Like I said, I had my reasons, Lucy,’ Anton said as the chanting ended abruptly. ‘But things have changed. I am goin’ to tell you why I said nothin’. We rode, we shared grub, we faced danger together. And although you were the lieutenant’s intended bride, I began to want you for myself, as you remind me of my late wife, Lesya.’ He felt her fingers dig into his arm like she never wanted to let him go. ‘I knew I was too old for you and that not tellin’ you wasn’t right . . ‘

  ‘Anton—’ she cut him short hoarsely.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I want you to know something.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Anton, from the moment we met, I
wished you were the man I had come west to marry! Despite our age difference.’

  The shaman, Wind Shawl, slid from his pony. Clutching a long lance, he advanced half a dozen paces and thrust the spear point into the dusty clay. It cast a tiny, shrinking shadow, no longer than a man’s finger. When that shadow was no more, the Paiute would come.

  Anton heard the thud of boots on the wooden platform. Turning sharply, he glimpsed Trooper Gravens well away from his post. Anton’s angry eyes swept around the stockade platform. Both the eastern and western walkways were empty. Down on the parade ground, Calhoun was heading for the officer’s house. Anton stared in amazement. He could not see Judd anywhere. In fact, the only blue-coat in sight was Trooper Gravens.

  ‘Gravens!’ Anton yelled furiously as Grayson Weathers descended the southern ladder. ‘Gravens! What the hell is going on, damn you?’

  ‘Lieutenant’s orders!’ Gravens bellowed back.

  ‘The lieutenant’s not in command!’ Anton Kozlov roared angrily.

  ‘Keep your shirt on, Kozlov,’ Tuck Gravens called back. ‘The lieutenant has some spare ammunition. He gave me orders to send every settler to the house to collect. You are included, Kozlov.’

  ‘That damn fool order has left the walls unmanned,’ noted Anton.

  ‘It is ten minutes to noon,’ Gravens argued, consulting his fob watch. The watch was a pocket watch attached to a chain. The fob or protective flap over the face and crystal of the watch was made of leather.

  ‘We might as well have that spare ammunition, Anton,’ Will Alvord hollered, tumbling down the ladder to join Weathers. ‘We are gonna need every last bullet.’

  Trooper Gravens turned the far corner and strode along the eastern wall towards Anton and Lucy. Big boots thumped the wooden boards. Anton returned his eyes to the painted warriors outside the stockade. Every Paiute Indian eye was on the lance’s fading, diminishing shadow.

  ‘You will need that ammunition, too,’ Yacey said.

  ‘Lucy,’ Anton said tersely, ‘please come with me.’

  Anton was seething with anger. Maybe Judd had the best of intentions, but why didn’t he send one of the troopers around the platforms with the extra ammunition? He sprang down the last few ladder rungs, reached up and helped Lucy to the ground.