Authors: Janelle Taylor
Zeke checked Joe’s bonds, then left him alone with
Snake-Man.
“You have much to tell me, Joseph Lawrence. Who sent you on this mission? What are your orders? Are you Army or Special Agent?”
Joe used a desperate ploy. “You can stop the ruse with me, Orin. That ochre dust on your skin and that fake accent don’t fool me. Did you scalp an Indian for that hair or order Zeke to get it for you? Just tell me why you’re instigating an Indian war before you have me killed.”
Convinced he was safe by the length of time his men had been there and from fieldglass study, Snake-Man laughed and relaxed, basking in his power and success. “Sly tae tha end ‘r’ ye?” he jested near a whisper. “Good, nae need tae work sae hard tae talk like ye. Ne’er have I met ae man who’s been such ae trouble tae me. Why, Joe?” he asked in a pleasant tone.
Joe was delighted the blackheart was incriminating himself before concealed witnesses. “I’ve already told Zeke and I’m sure he reported it all to you, so why repeat it? Let’s get on with my dying and the why of it.”
“Blarney, me lad, pure blarney. Ye’re nae speaking with ae man who can be duped easy. Talk tha truth, and I’ll make yer death easy and swift. Hold yer tongue, and I’ll make ye beg for it all night.”
“How about you tell me first why I have to die? I figured out what you’re doing here, but your motive escapes me. I don’t like holes in things, and I can’t seem to fill the one to this situation, and that riles me as much as being defeated. Why would any man go to such lengths to take control of a vast wasteland? What’s so valuable here?”
“If ye’re stalling for help tae come, it won’t. Me boys scouted tha area before we rode in; naebody for miles. If ye don’t tell me what I want tae know, I’ll send Zeke after yer woman. Ye’ll be sure tae beg tae speak plenty when ye see what I can do with her. But it would be tae late then. Once I start me pleasures, it’s nigh impossible tae stop until she’s used up. Understand me, Joseph Lawrence?”
“Clear as a mountain stream,” he responded between gritted teeth. He hesitated as he pretended to consider his predicament and decide his course. The kind of man this enemy assumed
him to be would not yield easily or quickly. Orin waited patiently in confidence of victory. Joe shrugged and quipped, “Why not? No need to risk Little Flower’s death or my torture for a job I’ve failed. I’m certain you’d carry out such vile threats. If there was any other thing to do, you can bet I wouldn’t tell you a single word.”
Joe perceived a begrudging respect for him in Orin similar to the one he had witnessed in Zeke. “To protect my wife, I’ll do it your way,” he said. “I’m a scout for a private company that plans to build a railroad from the Great Lakes to the Pacific, using Asa Whitney’s route. They want this matter kept secret to prevent competition. President Fillmore has promised them federal land grants for surveys next spring. They hope to begin laying tracks in the East by late May. I was sent here to check out the terrain and climate, availability of supplies and protection, any Indian trouble, and possible opposition from landowners.”
Joe took a breath and went on. “It didn’t take me long to realize somebody was provoking the Indians and trying to prevent that treaty Agent Fitzpatrick promised my employers. They need that truce, Orin. They need the roads and forts it’ll bring about; they need peace with the Indians to obtain water and timber and game to feed the workers. My run-in with Zeke helped get me started. That story about my wife is true, so is most of what I told Zeke. What you called ‘blarney’ is what happened before I took this job. It shouldn’t surprise you that neither easterners nor southerners would accept my Indian wife. Taking this job served our needs. I nosed around until tracks led to you.”
“Ye may be telling tha truth on most part, but ye’re lying about ae trail tae me. I’ve been too careful tae conceal it.”
Joe laughed. “Yep, until today.” When Orin’s head jerked around as if to search for trouble, he rushed on with, “Or rather until Zeke went to you after I destroyed those guns. Shipping those illegal crates through Pierre didn’t fool me; a smart man would never be so careless. And you have to be one of the cleverest I’ve met to get this far with your bloody scheme. I realized Simon was an ignorant go-between. I figured Zeke would head there after he discovered my mischief.
He did, after he joined up with Farley. That kid isn’t alert and skilled like Zeke; no problem dogging him. I trailed him to his meeting with Carnes at Tabor, then on to Pierre to meet Zeke. They steamed straight to your trading post—and you.”
Joe rolled his shoulders to loosen their tautness. “I figured I had enough facts to get Captain Thomas interested in the case, so I left to convince him. Trouble was, Carnes had killed him, taken command, and declared me an outlaw. I knew by then he was in your pocket and trying to kill me, so explanations or threats were useless. The odds here were too uneven, so I decided to continue westward. It seemed best to report what I’d learned to my bosses and let them decide how to deal with you and your hirelings. But we rode straight into Black Moon’s arms; the Crow should have been farther north that day,” he muttered.
Joe exhaled in fake annoyance. “Anyway, I suspected you were the ringleader, but I didn’t know for certain until today. You just fell for my last trick, for all the good it does me. Besides, I couldn’t find another man clever enough to be pulling off your scheme. The railroad is important, Orin, so I’ll be replaced. Better tell Zeke to be more careful with him. And next time, find a better man than Simon Adams to cast suspicions on.”
Orin continued to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Tae bad we work opposite sides, Joe. I could have used ae skilled man like ye.”
“Pay me more than the East-West Railroad and I’ll jump into your pocket. Survival is a big incentive to change jobs.”
Orin chuckled in amusement. “I don’t think sae. Ye strike me as ae man who’s loyal tae who hires him first. I could ne’er trust ye.”
Joe shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t fault a man for trying to save his hide. But I’d still like to know why I’m losing it. You owe me the truth for the information I just supplied; it’ll probably save your hide one day.”
Orin’s confidence was at a peak now. “Ye’ll be dead before dark, sae I’ll tell ye. I want tha Black Hills, and tha Sioux owns them.”
“The Black Hills? Why are they so important to you?”
“They have e’erthing I need: timber, finest grazeland, plenty of game, abundant water, sheltered valleys for winter protection, strongholds against enemies, and gold.”
Joe’s astonishment was genuine. “Gold?”
“Plenty, maybe even more than California has. One of me men found some when he was raiding death scaffolds; he didn’t tell tha others. He thought he’d become partners with me because I could help him get out more than he could do alone. He needed me backing and protection, but I didn’t need him. He’s dead, sae I’m tha only one who knows where it is.”
Joe was relieved they were talking low and in a secluded location. Gold was one motive that no one must learn of! But if he allowed Orin to live, be arrested, and be questioned…
“Of course, timber is like gold in this territory. I know about tha push for ae railroad; it has tae come one day. With the Black Hills and her treasures in me possession, I can be their main and only supplier in these parts. I’ll be rich and famous, ruler of this area.”
“Except the Lakotas stand in the way of your plans.”
“Ye’re right. But not for long. I made ae deal with Black Moon tae supply him with guns and goods if he’d use them first tae kill off ‘r run out tha Sioux. Then he’d control the rest of the territory.”
“Until you provoked the Army to get rid of him for you.”
Orin chuckled. “Yer wits impress me, Joe.”
“Thanks,” he scoffed.
“If ye hadn’t of destroyed me last shipment tae Black Moon, with two more in ae few weeks, me war would have begun in a month. Now, it’ll have tae be in October. When yer surveyors come next spring, I’ll be the man they negotiate with o’er land, water, game, and timber rights.”
Joe had one last thing to learn before he gave the attack signal. “Aren’t you forgetting about the treaty council at Laramie in a few weeks?”
“Treaties ‘r’ made tae be broken. I’ll be sure it fails before winter settles in. I’ll give tha Sioux and Crow plenty of cause tae battle again.”
Joe leaned against the wooden hull. “What if—”
Several incidents suddenly happened simultaneously: Joe
yelped and jerked aside as a bee stung his cheek; Orin, who had seen the insect land and poise to strike, leaned forward without thinking to brush it away; a startling war hoop sounded across the quiet clearing; and an arrow caught Orin in his left shoulder.
The Scotsman groaned and fell backward from the hit.
“What in blazes!” Joe yelled. If they hadn’t moved at the same time, he would have been a lethal target! He jerked around to look for trouble.
Orin seized the shaft and yanked out the arrowhead. He held one hand over the bleeding wound as his gaze scanned the scene.
Another arrow thudded into wood too close to the bound Joe. His keen gaze retraced its flight path to Knife-Slayer. The warrior was trying to kill
him!
He needed cover fast in his vulnerable state. Joe saw the masked leader grab a nearby pistol and heard him murmur something about “ae war party attack.” Joe knew he’d best get out of Orin’s line of fire before the man realized his assumption was wrong. He ducked beside the wagon, hoping Clay Thorne could cover him with rifle fire and would come to untie him fast.
The trap prematurely exposed caused confusion on both sides, especially when Tom held off the signal long enough to give Joe time to roll under the wagon and no soldier showed himself. Melee ensued.
Orin’s men backed toward their boss to defend him while firing at moving shadows in the woods. Crow dashed for cover, having been ordered to capture, not slay, the culprits. The sound and smell of gunfire filled the clearing, as did shouts back and forth between both sides.
As soldiers and warriors revealed themselves and called for the evildoers to surrender, Orin reached for his best weapons. He smashed the Oriental balls against the hard ground, creating an impenetrable veil. When the twinkling smoke vanished, Snake-Man was gone.
Clay rushed forward to free Joe. The two men joined their forces in a brief battle. When it was over, Zeke was wounded; two cohorts were dead; Farley and the last two were prisoners. On the other side, only four soldiers had minor injuries; three
Indians were wounded and two were slain: Hawk Eyes and Knife-Slayer.
It was revealed that the sullen Red Heart warrior had been the one to act before either signal was given. The shaman had caught one of Zeke’s first bullets as he witnessed his son’s treacherous behavior and apparently sacrificed his protection in an attempt to halt it. Knife-Slayer had been slain by Wind Bird while trying to kill Joe. No doubt the antagonistic warrior had intended to allege that Joe had given the attack signal and was aiming for Snake-Man to protect Sky Warrior.
Joe surmised the shaman had tried to perform the good deed to hide his and his son’s past misdeeds, or to make up for them before his god. Surely Hawk Eyes had realized no one would believe the action was an accident, as Knife-Slayer was an expert shot. Justice, often strange and swift, had claimed both men.
Night Stalker was angered by his friend’s deceit and his dishonorable conduct. During the past week, it had become clear to the chief’s son that peace was the best trail to ride; working with whites, especially soldiers, had shown him most were not bad men and most wanted truce. He now knew that his father and others were right to seek peace, and he would obey the sacred vision. He pleased Sun Cloud with his change of heart and behavior.
Joe walked around the wagon and examined it. Near the front, he kicked the wooden hull and shouted, “Come on out, Orin, the game’s over. We know about your hiding place.” There was no response. “You want us to chop through your fake bottom or burn you out?” Joe threatened.
Everyone gathered around the white-topped wagon as Joe issued his warnings and kicks again. The clearing had been surrounded by their forces, so they knew Orin couldn’t have escaped.
“Bring the hatchets, boys; we’ll chop our way to him.”
A shot rang out, and everyone jumped back as they assumed Orin was firing at them. Nothing happened for a while.
Then, Joe spotted blood dripping to the ground beneath the wagon. He climbed inside, and Clay followed. They searched for an entrance to the secret compartment and found it. They
were not surprised by the grim sight that greeted them.
Orin’s body was hauled outside—dead from a self-inflicted wound to the head, preferring that to arrest and execution or prison. Joe removed his metal mask to show Black Moon and the others the truth. The flowing black hair was attached, so the mane left with the disguise. He watched Black Moon, his braves, and Red Heart warriors touch the tattooed snakes. He heard them laugh in relief to discover the man was human and the vipers unreal.
Joe recovered some of the “magic” balls and demonstrated how they worked. He passed out the remaining ones from Orin’s supply. Despite the fact that the Indians knew the balls were tricks, they were amazed by them and continued to call them “big magic.” Since Orin’s target was the Oglalas, Sun Cloud was presented with the snake mask. To prevent jealousy, Black Moon was given the wagon, horses, and supplies. Both chiefs were pleased with their presents.
Tom and Stede were overjoyed by the removal of the final obstacle to peace in the territory. A burial detail tended to the chore of interring the remains of Orin McMichael, along with his two men, near the sacred location McMichael had craved. Joe related the motive behind the Scotsman’s scheme, excluding one part: gold in the Black Hills. He would keep that fact a secret, except to warn Sun Cloud at a later date to make certain whites were kept out of the rich hills. Once gold was discovered, Joe was certain encroachment and a bitter war would take place.
When Black Moon comprehended how he had been duped, the Crow chief was silent in his shame. It helped matters when Sun Cloud told him they, too, had been falsely provoked against the Bird People by Orin’s tricks. It made everyone happy to see the two leaders make truce. It was hoped that when news of their joint attack reached the ears of other Crow and Lakota tribes, it would entice them to lessen their hatreds.