Crossed Arrows 3 Page 13

  Hawkins turned to Sergeant Eagle Heart who was behind him. “Send two men to me.”

  The sergeant spoke up just loud enough to be heard. “Red Moon! Strong Bow! Report to Cap’n Hawkins.” Eagle Heart always addressed the younger tribesman in the Kiowa fashion rather than using the family name he had adopted.

  The two scouts quickly left the formation and rode their horses up to the front of the column. The captain pointed toward the objective. “Check out the base of the mountain and find a good place to picket the horses. Keep in mind they may be there for awhile, so we want them well hidden.”

  The pair immediately headed across the desert to tend to the assignment.

  Jesse studied the mountain now that it was nearer. “Well, Mack, we got one hell of a climb ahead of us.”

  “This is nothing compared to our deployment in the Rocky Mountains a couple of years back,” Hawkins remarked. He winked at Ludlow. “Right, Mr. Dooley?”

  “Absolutely and positively, sir,” Ludlow replied. “Except we were armed with Winchester rifles.”

  “Whataya know,” Jesse said. “I got one of them beauties right here in my saddle boot.”

  “I’ll trade you my Krag-Jorgensen for it,” Hawkins offered.

  Jesse chuckled. “I may have been borned at night, Mack, but it wasn’t last night.”

  The ride continued for another half hour before Red Moon and Michael Strongbow returned from their task. Michael did the reporting to his commanding officer. “There’s plenty of space ever’where, sir. I dismounted and climbed up a bit. The farther I went the thicker the woods was, but one spot fit the bill. The horses can’t be spotted from outside the trees.”

  “Thank you, Scout Strongbow. You guide us in and Red Moon can return to the column.” The captain looked at Ludlow. “That’s just what the documents said. The cover of that forest is gonna make our job easier.”

  “And safer,” Ludlow added. “We also have acceptable odds, sir. There’re nine of us against fourteen of them. But tally in the element of surprise and that works out in our favor.”

  “And the sun isn’t completely up yet,” Hawkins pointed out. “We’ll have an hour or so before we climb to glory.”

  After a little more than twenty minutes at a walk, the detachment arrived at the beginning of the tree line twenty yards up the mountain slope. At that point the trees were spaced apart, but as Michael Strongbow said, the woods grew thicker as the elevation increased. The young scout led the way to a thick grove of piña pines where good concealment was available.

  Everyone dismounted and drove pickets deep into the soil, then attached the picket ropes that had been snapped on the bridles. Unnecessary equipment was grounded while each man turned his attention to the cartridge belts for the Krag-Jorgensen carbines. Two were slung right to left and two were slung left to right over the men’s shoulders. That gave them each a total of 240 rounds plus the five already in the fixed magazines of the weapons. Hawkins admitted the arrangement was heavy and clumsy, but pointed out they were now fighting as infantrymen.

  A period of waiting and resting followed until the rays of the sun slashed through the tree limbs, giving excellent visibility. The detachment fell into its skirmish line with Sergeant Eagle Heart, Corporal Tall Bear and Charlie Wolf on the left. Captain Hawkins with Jesse Buford occupied the middle while Ludlow Dooley, Corporal Swift Horse, Red Moon and Michael Strongbow were on the right.

  Hawkins checked the alignment. “Remember! Dress toward the center to keep a steady formation. Move as silently as possible. Is everybody ready?” He looked right and left, then raised his hand and pointed up toward the mountain top. “As skirmishers! March!”

  The detachment moved slowly and deliberately as they began the ascent. There was a noticeable difference between Cupula Mountain and the Rockies. The latter high country’s forest was strewn with heavy deadfall, while this Mexican terrain was relatively clear of fallen branches and other natural debris.

  An hour later, Captain Hawkins signaled a halt. He motioned Lieutenant Dooley to join him. “Let’s you and me make a reconnaissance and see how far away we are from the showdown.”

  The two officers began the climb, pausing now and then to squat and listen for sounds. Within a half hour human voices could be discerned above. The pair held their carbines ready and resumed the upward trek. It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the trees and could see a military camp in the clearing across the top of the mountain. Now, for the first time, they could see the bandits they had been chasing.

  “They’re a bunch of kids!” Hawkins said.

  “Yes, sir,” Ludlow acknowledged. “And look at their weapons. All the same.” He shifted his gaze. “There’s a trench five yards ahead. They have a defensive system in place.”

  Hawkins nodded. “Yep. But nobody’s in it. Go back and bring up the detachment. And tell ’em to take their time and be quiet. I’ll stay here.”

  Ludlow retraced his steps back to the scouts. He went directly to Sergeant Eagle Heart and Corporals Swift Horse and Tall Bear, passing on the orders. Then he joined Jesse Buford and explained the situation. The Texas ranger winked confidently, indicating he was ready to go.

  Ludlow looked right and left to see that the scouts were poised for action. He pointed upward and began the ascent. Now the attackers were mentally and emotionally prepared for what would happen when they reached the battle site.

  The Indians’ warrior ancestors would be almost out of control by now in a similar situation. But these modern Kiowas and Comanches of the 1890s were not warriors. They were trained disciplined soldiers, and this made them even more dangerous than their forebears.

  Hawkins had come down to a lower position and met them. He greeted Ludlow and Jesse, then assembled the scout noncommissioned officers to issue his battle orders.

  “There’s a trench just beyond the trees,” he informed them in a soto voce. “What we’re gonna do is simple. When we reach the end of the woods, I want you to quickly and quietly—I say again—quickly and quietly—move into the trench. Pick out your fields of fire. On my command you will start shooting any of them bandit son of a bitches you can see. Shoot ‘til they’re all dead just like they did to the people on the stagecoach and steamboat. Questions? No? Good!”

  Ludlow rejoined Corporal Swift Horse, Red Moon and Michael Strongbow on the right side of the skirmish line. Hawkins and Jesse moved toward the trench as the others stayed aligned with them. They crossed the short open space between the trees and the trench, jumping into the defensive position. Everyone faced inward with weapons aimed at individuals in the area.

  Hawkins bellowed, “Fire! FIRE! FIRE!”

  Eight Krag-Jorgensen carbines and one Winchester rifle blasted out an orchestrated volley that quickly evolved into individual firing. The initial shock of the fusillade knocked over three bandits at what seemed a supply dump. The others quickly dispersed to an area of shelter tents, but two caught bullets in the back that sent them sprawling.

  Fire was returned quickly from the canvas shelters, sending bullets ripping through the air smacking the dirt around the trench the detachment occupied. Hawkins was immediately concerned since he expected the bandits to stand stupefied long enough to sustain a serious casualty count. Then a half dozen men emerged from the tent area, heading rapidly for the woods to the east. All were dressed in dark blue uniforms.

  “By Gawd, Mack!” Jesse Buford exclaimed. “Them’s soljers!”

  Now the return fire grew in intensity, followed by five bandits emerging to make a frontal assault across the open space, shouting, “Viva nuestra venganza!” It was a stupid thing to do, and the scouts cut them down in an instant. Hawkins quickly surmised someone had ordered the ill-fated mass attack.

  “There’re more than fourteen in this camp, sir!” Ludlow hollered. “I can see more soldiers forming up.”

  “This situation is crazy as hell!” Hawkins complained, working his carbine’s bolt. He couldn’t figure out what soldi
ers would be doing with bandits, but didn’t have time to ponder on it. Several more of the soldiery now moved to the trees on the west. It was obvious they were beginning an enveloping maneuver. Hawkins yelled over in Ludlow’s direction. “Lay down covering fire for a withdrawal!”

  Ludlow immediately ordered Corporal Swift Horse, Red Moon and Michael to fire as fast as possible into the camp. Two more bandits made a wild charge, but were caught in a flight of .30 caliber bullets.

  Now Sergeant Eagle Heart, along with Corporal Tall Bear, and Charlie Wolf leaped from the trench. A split second later, Scout Charlie Wolf was hit in the back and he sprawled to the forest floor. The rest of the detachment fell back deeper into the woods with Hawkins and Jesse accompanying them. Hawkins quickly halted them and made it their turn to deliver covering fire.

  At that point, Ludlow led his three scouts out of the trench and into the woods. They ran past the other group, stopped and turned to lay down heavy volleys to stop any pursuit. This routine was followed three more times until the detachment reached a spot where a good defensive perimeter could be set up. It would have been impossible to repeat the rear guard action only longer. By then the unknown number of soldiers were out of sight.

  The captain ordered a halt and reformed the detachment into a formation known as “rally to the colors.” This meant a tight grouping facing in all directions. Sergeant Eagle Heart squatted down beside his captain. “Scout Charlie Wolf is dead, Cap’n. I see him fall. Too bad.”

  “Yeah,” Hawkins said. “Too bad. Too godamn bad.”

  Ludlow joined them. “It appears to me that all the bandits are down. But those soldiers are going to carry the fight to us no matter where we go.”

  “Can you make an estimate of how many there are?” Hawkins asked.

  Ludlow nodded his head. “I can’t be sure, but I assume there’re maybe a couple of dozen of them.” He shrugged. “Maybe more. Maybe less. I can’t tell.”

  Hawkins clenched his teeth. “There wasn’t one solitary mention of soldiers in the report they sent me. Fourteen godamn bandits! That’s what they said. Fourteen!”

  Now Jesse Buford scrambled up and sat down in the grass. “I been a Texas ranger for twenty-years and this is the first time I ever seen Mezkin soljers fighting alongside Mezkin bandits. They’re as much natural enemies as mountain lions and buffalo.”

  “It seems we got a real fight on our hands,” Ludlow remarked.

  “No shit,” Jesse remarked right back.

  Twenty-Five

  The woods had been quiet for some forty-five minutes as the detachment waited to see what would happen. Scout Michael Strongbow was locked in a turmoil of grief and rage after learning his friend Charlie Wolf had been killed. He peered into the trees, hoping the enemy would make a quick appearance. The young Kiowa wanted to kill as many of the them as he could.

  The eerie quietness under the trees continued undisturbed; not a rustle of grass, the crack of a twig nor the chirp of a bird could be heard. Suddenly Red Moon was startled. He signaled for quiet as he listened. The Kiowa-Comanche scout moved carefully forward while using the trees for cover. He stopped, brought his carbine up to his shoulder and fired. A yell sounded and the sound of people running away through the woods could be heard.

  “Ever’body stay here,” Hawkins ordered. “Except Mr. Dooley and Jesse. You two come with me.”

  The three joined Red Moon who pointed to a spot three yards away. The body of a Mexican soldier lay spread out on his back. Hawkins walked over and knelt next to the corpse, giving it a careful inspection. Ludlow, Red Moon and Jesse joined him.

  Jesse asked, “What d’we have here, Mack?”

  “Look at this fellow’s uniform,” Hawkins said. “It’s dark blue with red epaulets, red pocket flaps, red cuffs and there’s red stripes down the sides of his britches.”

  Ludlow walked over and picked up the man’s headgear. “There’s a metal insignia on this leather helmet. It’s an eagle holding a snake in its talons.”

  “It’s the same design as is on their flag,” Jesse remarked.

  Hawkins grasped the man’s Mauser rifle and stood up. He shook it and the leather sling rattled. “Do you hear that? And the stock is shiny with linseed oil rubbed into it.”

  Jesse was puzzled. “What does all that mean to you, Mack?”

  “This sling will snap while performing the manual of arms,” Hawkins said. “It’s real impressive when drilling. The linseed oil gives the stock a dark mahogany look. Most impressive and very regimental. The glaring red on a dark blue uniform stands out like a recruiting poster.”

  Ludlow knew what Hawkins meant. “In other words, sir, he’s a parade ground soldier, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Hawkins answered. “He’s what a field soldier would look at and say, ‘He’s pretty, but can he fight?’”

  Jesse was still confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It means I’m going to change tactics in this battle,” Hawkins said. “What we are going to do, gentlemen, is begin hunting and killing.”

  “What about bandits?” Red Moon asked.

  “They’re obviously all dead,” Hawkins replied. “I got a quick count on ’em up there and the number we mowed down pretty much indicates there’s no more.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Ludlow said. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar that these soldiers ordered them into that reckless charge to draw fire away from themselves.”

  Hawkins nodded his agreement. “They used it as a distraction to spread out around us for an envelopment.”

  The quartet returned to the rest of the detachment.

  “Ever’body listen up,” Hawkins said, keeping his voice just above a whisper. “It appears we’re facing some fancy pants son of a bitches who are playing at real soldiering. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll get in a diamond formation for all around security and go after those fancy pants. We’ll dare ’em to fight.” He paused and glanced around at the eager faces. “Mr. Dooley and Scout Strongbow, you two will be on point but stick close to the rest of us so you don’t get too far ahead.”

  Michael was satisfied with the arrangement. He and the lieutenant would be the first to make contact with the enemy.

  Hawkins continued his instructions. “The left side will be Sergeant Eagle Heart at the front and Corporal Tall Bear to the rear. Corporal Swift Horse and Red Moon will man the right flank with Red Moon following. I want Corporal Tall Bear and Red Moon to cover the rear as well. We don’t want anybody sneaking up on us, so you two look backward now and then.”

  Ludlow was happy to see the captain setting things up for an aggressive reply to the threats they faced. Hawkins was always at his best in such situations.

  “Now!” the captain stated emphatically. “Make sure your magazines have five rounds loaded. Check your ammo belts so that there’s no empty pockets on the front one. You don’t want to have to go for the second or third belts to fumble for bullets you need. Speed in locking, loading and firing is gonna be real essential from now on.”

  Everyone followed the instructions to the letter, adjusting their personal arrangement of bullets for easy access.

  When all was ready, Hawkins gave the order to form up. Ludlow and Michael walked up ahead, then stopped at the maximum distance they could be without losing sight of the detachment. Hawkins checked the men, happy to see his orders were fully understood.

  “Let’s go to war!” the captain exclaimed.

  Ludlow and Michael moved forward slowly and quietly, maintaining as much silence as possible as they began the ascent back to the top of Cupula Mountain. Ludlow raised his hand at various times, signaling everyone to squat down for a short session of watching and listening.

  Although the procedure was repetitive, it sure as hell wasn’t boring. Each halt was bringing them closer to the enemy. After a slow, plodding half hour it was Michael who caught the flash of bright red and dark blue in the trees off to the left front. He pointed and Ludlow also saw
the uniform; then another. The lieutenant turned, noting that the entire detachment was looking at him with intense interest. He followed proper procedure and raised his carbine over his head, then pointed it at the Mexicans. This was the U.S. Army’s way of silently communicating that the enemy was in sight and in which direction.

  The diamond formation evolved into a skirmish line as the detachment moved forward to make contact. Ludlow and Michael sighted a man urinating against the side of a tree. Both fired simultaneously, their bullets kicking him sideways. He tumbled into the urine-soaked forest grass.

  The rest of the detachment now showed up to see a group of the fancy soldiers staring at them in shock and surprise. Quick shooting felled several while the others fled upward into the trees toward the camp.

  Hawkins ordered a halt because of the possibility of running into rear guard actions. The four Mexican soldiers lay close together, all dead. Michael kicked the closest corpse and spat in its face.

  “All right,” Hawkins said. “Form up again.”

  The hunt continued as Ludlow and Michael followed the trail of the panicky soldiers. The sounds of their getaway were easy to hear. Fifteen minutes later, silence once again lay over the mountainside.

  “Halt!” Hawkins commanded, then called in the two point men. “They’ve stopped somewhere up higher. I assume two things. The first is that they’re not going to try to outflank us or we’d hear ’em. Second they’ve set up an ambush and I’m willing to bet it’s no more than a desperate grouping together. So here we go again. Let’s form back into a skirmish line. Mr. Dooley, you and Scout Strongbow do what you do best.”

  Ludlow and Michael moved out on point. But this time they got down on their hands and knees, keeping their heads down below the height of the brush. They moved in turn, one covering the other, as they inched along the track of the enemy soldiers. The rest of the detachment, staying on their feet, used the trees for cover as the unit advanced behind the pair, ready to act when they made contact with their quarry.