The Texican Way Page 4

  “Ma’am.” Daniel said crustily. “You do not have a choice unless you wish us to leave you here. In any event, you do not smell that sweet yourself. We could all do with a bath.”

  Arabella was incensed by this remark. She felt that she had no option but to ride with Jake rather than with Daniel, who had mortally insulted her.

  Daniel left Jake to deal with her and moved behind the group on the road, keeping his eye on the road ahead of the Sergeant. He heard Jake canter away and hoped that they would stay out of sight.

  The Yankee sergeant was patently not in a hurry to get where he was going. This particular detail was probably the easiest thing he could be ordered to do and it beat all hell out of being required to charge the enemy.

  Daniel trailed them until the evening when they found a nice spot close to a stream and proceeded to build a large fire and make a fine smelling supper for the Yankees and a mess of cornmeal for the prisoners.

  Daniel stayed up on the ridge above them and contented himself with cold sourdough biscuits and water from his canteen. He still wore the Mexican sombrero but he had cut off the curled rim with his cutthroat razor and it now looked much like what was to become the classic western Stetson. He poured the contents of his canteen into the hat and offered to the stallion to drink. The horse nuzzled Daniel. It was bonding well with him. Daniel used the hat again to give the horse his ration of oats before he shook out the horse blanket and rolled up in it to sleep.

  He was awakened by the horse’s whicker. He always slept with his loaded pistol in his hand so he did not stir until he had listened to try to pick up what the horse had heard.

  He heard the scuff of a boot on the rocky ground. It was still a distance away so he threw the blanket over his saddle so that it looked vaguely like a sleeping man and he slipped into the shadows and lay watching.

  His vigil was rewarded by the sight of two shadows moving toward his horse.

  The stallion was not happy with the strange smells. He began to snort and move closer to his protector which meant that he moved into the shadows where Daniel was waiting.

  He saw the flash of flame as one of the two men fired at the mound where the horse blanket covered his saddle. After that Daniel did not hesitate but fired at both men in quick succession. Both men collapsed to the ground. Daniel approached the first man and peered at him in the darkness. His throat was blown open so he moved to the next man who was groaning from shattered ribs.

  “Why’n hell did you attack me, you scum? I did nothing to you.”

  “Sergeant sent us.” The stricken man gasped. “He heard the horse snorting. Help me! It hurts something fierce.”

  Daniel reached down to move the man but as he did so an issue of blood welled out of his mouth and he died.

  Daniel could hear a commotion below in the Yankee camp.

  “Ambrose! What’s going on up there?” The sergeant shouted.

  “Ambrose is disinclined to answer you, sergeant, seeing as he is dead.” Daniel shouted back.

  “Waterson, watch the prisoners. I’m going up to get that rebel bastard.” Although he was not shouting, Daniel heard every word. He checked his rifle and re-loaded his pistol.

  The sergeant might have been brave but he certainly did not know how to move silently. He clattered up the hillside to the top of the ridge and Daniel heard him every step of the way. He had to do no more than wait for the Yankee to be outlined against the lightening morning sky and then pull the trigger of his pistol.

  The sergeant fell backwards and tumbled down the hillside to end in a heap against a boulder fifty feet below. If the bullet had not killed him then the fall certainly did.

  “Waterson, if you want to live, I suggest that you put down your rifle and move to your fireplace with your hands above your head.” Daniel called down to him.

  “No need, friend!” A southern voice called up. “He just lost all desire to live.”

  “Hold there, friend. I’m Corporal Beauregard of Quantrill’s Raiders. I’ll be down as soon as it is light enough to see.”

  Daniel took his time. He checked his saddle and was annoyed to find a furrow through the stout leather of the cantle and a hole through his horse blanket. He saddled the stallion and rode down a much less precipitous path than that taken by the Yankee sergeant.

  “Who’s the senior man here?” Daniel asked as he approached.

  “I guess I am: Sergeant Major Farrow. You Corporal Beauregard?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Where are your men?”

  “I sent Jake Smith off to fetch Captain Quantrill, otherwise there is just me.”

  “How is it you are not in uniform, corporal?”

  “Quantrill’s Raiders are not a regular unit, sir. Only time we wear uniform is if we are injured and left behind.”

  “I ain’t never heerd tell of Quantrill’s Raiders. What is the size of the unit?”

  “It was seven but now you men take us up to thirteen and that’s not a lucky number for the Yankees.”

  “Hey, none of us said we were gonna join up with you.”

  “Well you might say that you have all just been drafted. You fall under Captain Quantrill’s orders now unless you would rather go back to a prison camp.”

  “Hang on now corporal. We all come from the same unit and the way we see it we need to get back to that unit.”

  “Okay Sergeant Major let’s assume that is what you are going to do. You six men are going to take those four Yankee horses, one pistol and four musket rifles with maybe ten rounds for each weapon. You are going to ride with limited provisions through hostile territory filled with victorious Federals in the hope that you will find a unit that has already been whipped by the Yankees. Now, that’s all assuming that Captain Quantrill is prepared to let you take the horses and weapons which are all the Raiders’ spoils of war. By my count you only have one Springfield rifle so far and I have a fully loaded pistol and a Whitworth rifle and a good deal of ammunition. Who do you think is going to win this argument?”

  “Okay, Corporal, I guess you win. You already had me with that ‘hostile territory filled with victorious Federals’ bit. Where do we go from here?”

  “We don’t go anywhere, Sergeant-Major. We sit and wait for Captain Quantrill. Once we get back to our base, we have exactly enough horses for all of us and we will introduce you to the fine art of raiding and harassing the enemy.”

  Daniel rode over to the Yankee sergeant’s body and pointedly collected his pistol and removed his wallet.

  “You men can take whatever clothing you want from these two bodies. Use the two horses to move the bodies into the woods. You won’t want them stinking up our campsite. Sergeant-Major would you please take control of the Yankee provisions. I am sure that everyone will want a good meal after all that corn-mush you’ve been fed but we have to make sure that what we have will last us until we return to base.”

  “Yessir!” the Sergeant-Major said quite forgetting the disparity in their ranks.

  “Who has the rifle?” Daniel asked.

  “I have, sir, Sergeant Baker.”

  “Detail one of your men to stand guard and watch the road in both directions, sergeant.”

  “Yessir.”

  Daniel rode back to his camp up on the ridge and carefully stripped his two victims of weapons, valuables and useable clothing before returning to the camp below.

  “Sergeant-Major, find two of your men that this clothing will fit. If a Yankee troop comes by we had better be able to pass as Yankees in control of a parcel of prisoners.”

  “What is the danger of that, corporal?”

  “Not high, sir, but it would be as well to be prepared.”

  The small camp gradually got itself organized into proper order and one of the men was detailed to prepare a meal.

>   “That’s Pierre Chamont, Daniel.” Sergeant-Major Bradford Farrow said, easing into the less formal arrangement that Daniel had proposed. “He used to be a chef in New Orleans. He can serve Yankee dirt so that it tastes real good. Tell me, how did you come to join the Quantrill Raiders?”

  “I was a sniper for Colonel Grano at Hatton Hall. I got away and was heading west when I came upon the Captain capturing three Federal provision wagons. I was impressed by how he let all of the Yankee guards and drivers walk away from their wagons. He did not kill one of them. He said that they were brothers that had a disagreement and that he would not shoot his brother unless his brother shot at him. I liked that. I had killed nine Yankee officers at Hatton Hall but they had all been shooting at us. Nevertheless, I was tired of killing.”

  “I notice you have got back into the hang of it, Daniel.”

  “I could have taken down the Yankees guarding you at any time yesterday. I only started shooting when they shot the saddle under my blanket thinking that I was sleeping. I regarded that as reprehensible.”

  “You sound like a well-eddicated man, Daniel. How come you ain’t an officer?”

  “My father was a riverboat gambler. When he was winning, I went to the best schools and lived the life of a young gentleman but when the war started, the riverboats ceased and his winnings disappeared. He started gambling in saloons out west and he was accused of cheating and gunned down even though he had never cheated in his life. My mother died soon afterward, some say of a broken heart but I believe that she was afflicted by some disease. I cannot say for sure because I had been forcibly drafted along with my school-mates and sent north-east for a military training that never materialized. We were shipped to the front as reinforcements just in time to face the Yankee onslaught at Hatton Hall.”

  “Do you mind me asking: how old are you?”

  “I am in my seventeenth year, Brad but I feel a lot older than that.”

  “I gotta tell you, Daniel, you are the most mature young man that I have ever encountered. I have seen officer twice your age with half your ability.”

  “I guess that comes from looking after my mother all the time my father was away ‘earning a living’ as he liked to put it. You know, he used to be a school-teacher. He loved mathematics but that lured him into gambling.”

  “What has mathematics got to do with gambling? They sound kinda opposite.”

  “My father never cheated at cards and yet he won consistently. He did not always win the pot but he knew exactly when to raise and when to fold. He always told me that you have to minimize your losses and maximize your wins. He also had a very good memory for cards and could keep track of every card on the table. He could see the two face cards of every player and instantly work out what that player’s options were taking into account the cards already on the table. If his own options were better he raised and if they were not he folded.”

  “I can see where he would do well with those skills, Dan. I woulda thought that he coulda become a rich man.”

  “Oh he did, many times, but he had one fatal weakness: whisky. If he got to drinking his memory for the cards was lost. He would go for a long time without drinking and then he would win a good deal of money but when the money came in he would begin drinking again, just to celebrate, you understand? It happened every time.”

  On the following morning Sergeant Major Farrow took Daniel to one side.

  “Daniel, the men are kinda nervous about staying here until Captain Quantrill arrives. They do not want to risk being captured again by the Yankees. Don’t you think that we ought to get moving?”

  “Brad the main reason why I decided to stay here was because if we were to move I would have to issue the other weapons to the men and I was not yet sure that I could trust them. If you are willing to back me against any attempt by the others to take the horses, provisions and weapons and head back home, we can move immediately. Will you give me your word?”

  “You have it Daniel.”

  “Very well, we will put four men on two of the Federal horses and you and Sergeant Baker can ride the other two. I’ll give you the Yankee sergeant’s pistol and Sergeant Baker and the two doubled-up riders can each have a Springfield rifle. I’ll lead the way and you’ll bring up the rear. Does that suit you?”

  “Sure does, Daniel. Let’s get moving. This place seems too exposed for my liking.”

  Daniel led the small column up over the ridge. They moved very slowly because the rocky climb was particularly hard on the horses carrying a double burden. They could not have traveled more than three miles when Daniel felt compelled to call a halt.

  “There is a stream down there.” Dan pointed down a valley. “We had better rest the horses and allow them to drink.”

  The men followed him in silence as they descended into the valley and moved toward the stream.

  “Hold on there!” Sergeant Baker said sharply.

  Daniel turned in the saddle to see what the sergeant was talking about only to find himself looking up the barrel of the sergeant’s Springfield rifle.

  “This is it, Corporal. I’ll thank you to get off that horse. We are gonna need it a lot more than you do.”

  Daniel cast a look at Bradford Farrow who sat staring straight ahead apparently avoiding Daniel’s eye. Daniel glanced casually at the others. The rear man on each of the doubled up horses, carried the rifle. To keep the weapon away from the front man on the horse, the rifle was carried in the right hand with the barrel pointed downwards. There was no way that either of those men would be able to bring the rifle to bear on Daniel before he could put a bullet into both of them.

  Daniel dismounted slowly keeping the black stallion between him and the sergeant who was immediately behind him in the line of travel. Observing Daniel complying with his order the barrel of the sergeant’s rifle drooped as his tension diminished. From the shelter of the stallion’s body, Daniel drew out his pistol and shot the sergeant in his right shoulder and immediately swung back into the stallion’s saddle. His pistol covered all of the men behind him. The sergeant dropped his rifle and clutched his shoulder, moaning in pain.

  Daniel spoke to the men.

  “I surely did not expect treachery from a son of the South but if you men want to make a play for it, just remember that my pistol is out and I am a corporal because I am a sniper and never miss my target. Okay, now everybody, throw down your weapons.”

  The weapons were duly dropped.

  “Now take your horses to the water. Sergeant-Major you stand fast.”

  One of the men helped the sergeant to dismount and then took him to the stream to wash and inspect his wound.

  “Sergeant-Major Farrow, I thought that you had promised to back me in a situation like that?”

  “I’m surely sorry, Daniel. I was caught in conflicting loyalties there. Sergeant Baker is my oldest friend and supporter in the army. I couldn’t shoot him in the back.”

  “Well, now you have a wounded man in your care as you take him to look for your unit.”

  “Hold on there, Daniel. I never said that I was gonna go with him. I told you that I was willing to join the Raiders.”

  “Yes you did Brad but I can’t trust you any longer. You spoke to me and flattered me and did everything you could to win my trust but when the chips were down, you failed me. If Baker is your friend then you owe it to him to see that he gets back to Confederate lines. You are going to have to do it because you cannot ride with me.”

  Farrow said nothing in reply. He led his horse to the stream while Daniel gathered up the fallen weapons.

  “Right men,” Daniel called to them when they were all assembled.”This is your moment of choice. Sergeant-Major Farrow and Sergeant Baker are going south to look for the Confederate lines. Those who want to go with them may now go. Those who want to join the Raiders stay with me. I�
�ll give you a few minutes to consider the matter and then I shall be moving on.”

  “”Scuse me sir.” Pierre Chamont asked. “If we go south, do we get rifles and horses?”

  “You get the rifle and the horse belonging to the one Yankee that you killed. The belongings of those that I killed belong to the raiders and will be coming with me.”

  Chamont did not answer. He merely walked over and stood beside Daniel as did two others. The man tending to Sergeant Baker’s shoulder stayed with him.

  “What about the rations, Daniel?” Sergeant-Major Farrow called to him.

  “We will be taking two days rations for each of these men. We will leave the rest for you.”

  Daniel took ten minutes to divide the rations and he handed over the one rifle to Brad Farrow with as much ammunition as he felt he could spare.

  His three men mounted the three remaining horses. Apart from Pierre Chamont, the two other men joining the Raiders were coincidently the two dressed in Federal uniforms named Billy-Joe MacKendrick and Hiram Keeley.

  “Good luck Brad!” Daniel called out as they rode away. Bradford Farrow said nothing. He was too busy cursing himself for a fool.

  Chapter Five

  Daniel retraced his route back to the Fairfield plantation without encountering Quantrill.

  The first person he saw was Jonas.

  “Hello Jonas, did Miss Fairfield get back here safely?”

  “Sure thing, sah, she done take control o’ everything heah. She a sure enuff fire-cracker dat one! I done tol’ her dat Mistah Daniel wuz de massah heah now but she say dis heah land belongs to her and ain’t no over-eddicated man gonna walk in an’ take over her in-herry-tance.”

  “That sounds like Miss Fairfield sure enough. Did Captain Quantrill get back here yet?”

  “No sah, Mistah Jake done rode out lookin’ fer him but he ain’t got back yet.”

  Daniel decided to stop for a meal before riding on to find Quantrill. He found that the level of cuisine at the Fairfield plantation had risen considerably.