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Authors: Ralph Compton

BOOK: Demon's Pass
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With another hand signal, the wagons started forward. Ten minutes later they crested a small rise and saw, for the first time, what was drawing the buzzards. Scattered piles of blackened ash, half a wheel here, a tongue there, fire-rusted iron, and bits of charred canvas were all that remained of the Conestoga and freight wagons that once made up the Reynolds party.
But it wasn't the wagons that had drawn the buzzards. They were feasting with relish on the mules, dead in their harness, and what was left of the men, women, and children, their bodies black and bloating in the sun.
“My God,” Marcus said. “It's Reynolds and his bunch!”
“That there is the little Reynolds girl,” Tobin said, pointing to a lump on the ground.
Just as Tobin pointed out Sue's body, a buzzard spread his wings to halt his descent over the dead young girl.
“No! Get away from her!” Parker shouted. Before he realized what he was doing, he drew his pistol and fired at the buzzard. The buzzard fell to the ground, frantically flapping its wings a few times before it died. It all happened so quickly that Parker didn't even realize he had drawn and fired his pistol just as Jason had taught him.
Clay put his hand out toward Parker. “Put the gun away, son,” he said sympathetically. “You can't kill them all. Besides, they're just doin' what God intended them to do.”
Marcus set the brake on his wagon, then climbed down and started walking toward the bodies, carrying a shovel. A moment later Jason started toward the bodies with his own shovel, then Pecorino, and finally Tobin, the wound in his shoulder nearly healed by now.
“You goin' to help bury them, or are you just goin' to sit there?” Clay asked.
It was all Parker could do to get the words out. “I'll help,” he said.
 
The Cheyenne Camp
 
Elizabeth stood with the others as Brave Eagle's body was raised onto the burial platform, right alongside the platform holding the body of Running Rabbit. She had thought the words spoken over the bodies by Brave Eagle's friends, and by the elders of the village, were particularly moving. And though there was no representative of her own religion, Elizabeth quietly prayed for Jesus to accept the souls of the two Indians who had been so meaningful in her life since her capture.
“Hear the names of Brave Eagle, and Running Rabbit,” Two Ponies called out to the others.
“These are the honored names of those who now reside in the spirit world. I call now upon the spirit world to give Brave Eagle and Running Rabbit lodging. Give them horses to ride, and guns so that they may hunt. Give them food to eat and water to drink. Give them warm fires in the winter and cool breezes in the summer.
“And I call upon Brave Eagle and Running Rabbit to remember that you are Cheyenne. Do nothing in the spirit world that will bring dishonor to the people you have left behind. And now, we will say these names no more.”
As the villagers returned to the village, Moon Cow Woman told Elizabeth that the council had expelled Bloody Axe so that he would never again be able to return to the village of the people. Elizabeth knew that “the people” meant the entire nation of Cheyenne, and not just the village.
Brave Eagle's belongings were disposed of later that same day, and though the virtues of “he who once owned this buffalo robe” were extolled, never once was Brave Eagle's name mentioned.
 
Elizabeth heard a sound. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep. In fact, it was a moment before she even realized she had been asleep, and now, she floated back to consciousness only with effort.
She lay in the quiet darkness of her teepee, listening for a long time, to see if the sound returned. It was the stirring of the camp dogs she had heard, she decided. That, and nothing more.
The blankets were warm, and her senses were still groggy from sleep. Soon, Elizabeth drifted off again.
Elizabeth was awake less than a minute later, startled wide awake, her eyes open and her heart pounding in fear as rough hands grabbed her. But as soon as she perceived the danger and could cry out, she was gagged, and saw Bloody Axe kneeling over her, smiling evilly down at her.
“You are my woman!” Bloody Axe said. “You are coming with me!”
Elizabeth tried to call out against the gag, but she managed only a small, whimpering noise. Soon, even that was muffled as she felt herself being bound up in a buffalo rug, wrapped from head to toe so that she was unable to see or to cry out. Bloody Axe tied rawhide thongs tightly around the buffalo rug, so that she was unable to move an inch, completely helpless.
Elizabeth was scooped up and carried out of the teepee. She felt herself thrown across the back of a horse, then Bloody Axe climbed onto the horse with her. He gigged the animal's sides and Elizabeth, belly down over the horse, was spirited away into the night.
Chapter 11
Elizabeth had been Bloody Axe's captive for ten days. During that time, they had not seen another human being. Bloody Axe went high into the mountains, keeping away from main trails and waterways to make certain they went undetected. They may as well have been on the moon, so alone were they.
Bloody Axe knew that his life would be worthless, whether he was captured by the Indians or the white man, so he moved from campsite to campsite and never stayed in any one site longer than a single night. They traveled without a teepee, and Elizabeth had only the robe in which she had been wrapped to warm her against the chilly nights of late fall and higher elevations.
During her ordeal, Bloody Axe took Elizabeth forcibly, many times. The loss of her virginity, which had once meant so much to her, was not even a consideration in Elizabeth's determination to survive. It was just one more thing she had to endure, and she didn't even try to fight him off—not because she had succumbed, but because she realized that fighting was futile, and it was much easier to bear up under it until it was over. She had developed the art of making herself go numb, completely closing her mind and body to the degradation she was suffering.
Sometimes when they traveled, Bloody Axe allowed her to ride on the horse with him, but more often than not, she was forced to trail behind on foot, at the end of a long tether, with her hands tightly bound.
Elizabeth had grown much stronger during her time with the Indians. She had hauled wood, erected teepees, and skinned game. All that had a tremendously beneficial effect on her endurance. It was only because of that strength that she was able to survive the ordeal, and even then, she was tried to her utmost capacity.
Elizabeth was allowed to eat, but only after Bloody Axe had eaten. She was always very careful to break the bones and suck the marrow, in order to utilize as much as she could from the scraps she did get. On the night of the tenth day, as she was sitting quietly, waiting for him to finish a game bird, agonizing because it was so small that she knew there would be little left, Bloody Axe told her to get some water.
“Aren't you afraid I will run away?” she asked.
Bloody Axe pulled the meat off a bone, then smiled at her. “You will not run,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I have the horse,” Bloody Axe answered. “I can find you. You are hungry, and cannot run for long. If you run, I will catch you.”
“And if you catch me, what will you do? Will you kill me?” Elizabeth asked in a voice that was totally devoid of expression.
“Yes.”
“Good. Kill me now,” Elizabeth said.
Bloody Axe looked at Elizabeth for a moment, surprised by her response. Then, he realized that she was not bluffing.
“No, I will not kill you. That is what you want. But if you run, I will beat you. Get the water,” he demanded again.
Elizabeth picked up the buffalo stomach flask and started down toward the stream. The stream had not yet begun to ice over, but the water was running so cold that if she jumped in, her breath would be taken away, and she would quickly drown.
The thought of suicide, once no more than a point of philosophical interest to her, began to look attractive to Elizabeth. For the first time since her capture, she considered suicide as a serious alternative. Elizabeth put the flask down and took a few more steps toward the water.
The sudden, unexpected blow to the side of her head made her see stars and set her ears to ringing. She was knocked to the ground, and when she looked up, she saw Bloody Axe standing over her.
“No! You will not kill yourself,” he said, menacingly, seeing her intention.
“Then you had better kill me,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Because, if you don't, I will kill you the first chance I get.”
“You, a woman, would kill me, a warrior?” Bloody Axe laughed harshly.
 
Pueblo, Colorado
 
Although railroads were springing up all over the West to connect with the great transcontinental railroad that was being built, Pueblo's main connection to the rest of the world continued to be by stagecoach and wagon. Thus, when the three wagons rolled into Pueblo, their arrival garnered a good deal of interest from the citizens of the town. Pedestrians stopped and gawked, shoppers in the stores came to the windows and stared, and several young boys darted out into the street to great them. They ran alongside the wagons, keeping pace with the train as it moved down the street.
“Hey, where'd you come from?” one of the boys shouted up to Parker.
“We came from Independence, Missouri,” Parker replied.
“Did it take you a long time?”
“It's taken long enough,” Parker said.
“How come you ridin' up front? Ain't that where the wagon boss rides?”
“I
am
the wagon boss,” Parker said.
“You're lyin'. You ain't old enough,” the young boy said.
Clay, who had ridden ahead of the wagons earlier in order to make a few necessary arrangements, now rode back to meet them. As he approached, Parker held up his hand and signaled for the wagons to stop, and the street soon echoed with the drivers' shouts to their teams and the squeak of breaks.
“For law's sake, lookit that!” one of the boys said in surprise. “Did you see how he stopped them wagons? He
is
the wagon boss!”
“I've made a deal with the livery,” Clay said to Parker. “They'll keep the mules in the corral and feed and water them for three days, and there's a place out back for the wagons.”
“All right, I'll get the wagons in position before we disconnect the teams,” Parker said. With a motion of his hand, the three wagons started moving again, leaving the pack of young boys behind.
Because the livery stable was at the extreme western end of town, wagons filled the streets with the hollow clopping sound of the mules, grinding wheels, clanging pots and pans, cargo-banging, and canvas-flapping.
The wagons were soon moved into position against the back wall of the livery, then the mules were disconnected and turned loose into the corral. The animals shook their heads, brayed, then trotted out into the open area, enjoying their freedom from the yokes.
The men, too, felt a sense of release as they stretched and walked around, restoring circulation to limbs too long cramped by saddle or wagon seat. Pecorino relieved himself against the back wall of the livery while Marcus checked the canvas covers on all the wagons.
“So, what do you want us to do now, boss?” Tobin asked.
“I want at least two of us to be with the wagons at all times,” Clay said. “But if you don't happen to be one of the ones watching the wagons, you can do pretty much anything you want.”
“That sounds good to me,” Tobin said with a broad grin, his shoulder wound healing nicely.
“Who's going to get first watch?” Pecorino asked, coming back to join the others.
“I'll take first watch,” Marcus offered.
“Good,” Clay said. “I will too. Marcus and I will stay here tonight, so you boys are free to go on into town and do whatever you want to do. But don't get into any fights. In these trail towns, the sheriff always sides with the locals.”
“You don't have to worry none about that,” Pecorino said. “Fightin' ain't what I've got on my mind.”
“Also, don't be talking too much 'bout our business,” Marcus warned.
“Good point,” Clay agreed. “I don't particularly want anyone to know what we are carrying. Especially the rifles.”
“What about this Demon's Pass?” Tobin asked. “This might be a good time to see what we can find out about it, seein' as this is the closest town to it.”
Clay shook his head. “No, I'd rather you not say anything about it. I've already talked to someone who's been through the pass, and I know pretty much what to expect. If we talk about it here, there's no telling who might be listening. And there's sure to be some place where a few enterprising outlaws could ambush us, if they were of a mind to.”
“If you recall, we've already been through one outlaw attack and it cost us a good man,” Marcus said.
“Yeah,” Tobin said. “I bet ole Gibson would have had himself a time here.”
“Boss, is that all you want to say to us?” Pecorino asked.
Clay laughed. “You sound like you're anxious to get started. Go ahead, we'll see you boys tomorrow.”
“Clay, you want me to stay with you and Marcus?” Parker asked.
“No, go on into town with the others. Have yourself a good time. It'll do you good.”
“Come on, Parker, let's go,” Jason said eagerly.
 
“So, what are we going to do?” Jason asked the others a few moments later as the four walked back toward town.

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