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‘What are you about?’ asked the older of the two, and I was pleased to remark that his voice had risen a little in alarm. Perhaps it was a novelty for him to have somebody draw down on him.
‘You ain’t taking this horse,’ I said. ‘Try it and I’ll shoot you both.’
Both of them looked stumped and puzzled as to how to deal with this sudden turnabout in fortune. The young man said, ‘Put up your weapon and we’ll talk.’
‘Got nothing to say to you. It’s my horse.’
I have no bad conscience about what happened next, because they could just have ridden on and left me alone. As it was, the older man ran out of patience and did not perhaps take overmuch to a boy of my age pointing a gun at him. Perhaps he thought that I was bluffing and, being so young and green, would not follow through on my threat.
Ignoring me, he urged on his horse and made a grab for my pony’s bridle, meaning to take him from me and leave me on foot. I had already taken first pull on the trigger and, at the sight of a thief making off with my horse, I did what anybody might have done under the given circumstances. I shot him.
CHAPTER 4
The crash of gunfire seemed shockingly loud, partly perhaps because it was so sudden and unexpected. I don’t believe either me or those two men had believed for a moment that there was going to be shooting. The man I had shot sat there for a fraction of a second and then began twitching and convulsing, following which he pitched sideways and fell from his horse, although one foot remained entangled in the stirrup.
The dead man’s partner stared uncomprehendingly at the scene for a moment, hardly able to credit the evidence of his senses. Then he looked at me and began fumbling frantically for his own pistol. If that first shot had been a surprise, even to me, the second was not. I knew that unless I acted swiftly, the man now going for his gun would kill me. I cocked my piece and fired again, catching the other road agent in his chest, slightly to one side. He stopped trying to draw and looked down at the wound I had given him.
Then he said, ‘I never thought you’d shoot us. To be bested by a boy!’
‘It’s worse than that,’ I told him. ‘I ain’t even a boy. I’m a girl.’
The fellow stared stupidly at me and then kind of hiccuped or burped. As he did so, a bubble of crimson appeared on his lips. Then he too slumped, unconscious, although instead of falling sideways he collapsed forward and so remained on his horse.
I recall being vaguely taken aback that none of the three horses seemed to have been spooked by the gunfire. Maybe they were used to it; I couldn’t say. At any rate, the little tableau remained intact for a spell. I stood there with my gun in my hand and the two men whom I had shot, as one might expect, stayed just right where they were. I suppose that, being dead, this was not to be wondered at.
Grown-up people view death with reverence and amazement. It is generally thought to be a fearful thing to end the life of another human being. Young people, though, are in many ways harder and more careless in affairs of that kind. Death is not a matter of such consequence to them and they are sometimes more apt to take it in their course.
So it was with me. So great had been my fear of those two rogues that my strongest and most immediate feeling was one of enormous relief that they were no longer a threat to me. Later on I was pretty disturbed about what I had done, but just then I couldn’t see what other choice I had had. At the back of my mind I had perhaps sensed that even giving them my horse might not have been enough to save me, and that they could have killed me anyway, simply to dispose of a dangerous witness.
Anyway, I was now breathing a little easier in the knowledge that I was still able to undertake the duty which had been laid upon me by a dying man. There are those who will find my next action shocking, but it didn’t strike me so at the time. I was ravenously hungry and thought that if I didn’t soon eat something a little more nourishing and sustaining than parched corn, then I might end up fainting. The upshot was that I decided to look through the dead men’s saddlebags for anything in the way of vittles.
In the event it was only needful to look in one pack, because there I found rolls, cheese and a half-haunch of the juiciest and most succulent ham that you ever saw in your life. My mouth began to water as soon as I set eyes upon these delicacies. I hastily snatched them up and then led my pony away from the two corpses, where I made a good breakfast. This too is an instance of the callousness and want of natural feeling that afflicts so many young people. You might have thought that killing two men would have put me off my food, but nothing of the sort.
Now in those days Kansas was, to say the least of it, pretty sparsely inhabited. I rode for another hour before seeing any signs of human life. This consisted of a few cultivated fields, beyond which I could see a little log cabin. Since I was desirous of making sure that the track I was on would lead me in due season to Fort Richmond, I thought it prudent to stop and check with one of the locals who might know more of the matter than I did myself. Accordingly, I turned from the track and began heading towards the little farm. I was destined never to reach it, though, because no sooner had I reached the fields surrounding the wooden house than there was the dull boom of a scattergun being discharged.
I at once reined in, but could neither see nor hear anything to indicate who had fired the shot. It was entirely possible that whoever had used that shotgun was hunting wildfowl or something, and it had been nothing to do with me. After the events of the last twelve hours or so, though, I guess my nerves were twisted tight to breaking point and so I just turned tail and cantered back in the direction from which I had come.
The firing of a scattergun near at hand had made me more edgy than had my encounter with the two road agents. You can most generally deal, in one way or another, with those who confront you on the highway. A concealed man with a twelve-gauge shotgun is something else entirely.
I rode on for half an hour more and then came to what looked to be a little hamlet, consisting of three soddies and two buildings constructed of logs. I could hear the clang of a hammer striking iron and it occurred to me that maybe a blacksmith or farrier was at work. This promised well and so I cantered on towards the buildings.
I had been right about the source of the sounds, for a tall, brawny-looking fellow was swinging a hammer at an anvil. When he caught sight of me approaching he set down the hammer, wiped his hands on the leather apron which he was wearing and walked towards me, a cheerful and welcoming smile on his face. When he was close enough not to need to raise his voice, he said, ‘Well, you’re a young enough pilgrim to be on the road alone! Where you bound for?’
There was something so open and good-natured about his countenance that I did not hesitate for a moment, but said straight out, ‘I’m looking first for a town called New Jerusalem and then after that an army base called Fort Richmond.’
He looked at me thoughtfully and said, ‘Seems to me there’s a story needs telling here. I can set you on the right path easy enough, but have you time to stop for a taste of cold milk?’
After having drunk nothing other than water for the last twenty-four hours a glass of milk sounded fine and so I said, ‘Yes, please. But I can’t stop long. I have urgent business.’
‘Urgent business, is it? You’re powerful young to be engaged upon “urgent business”. But anyways, come with me to the house.’
Although I was in a hurry, the idea of talking to somebody who wasn’t either dying or set on robbing me was a pleasant one and I was beginning to feel the after-effects of having been involved in that little episode of gunplay earlier. Leaving my pony to feed, I suffered the man to lead me into the kitchen of the largest of the wood-framed buildings. A woman was at work there, churning butter from what I could see.
The man said, ‘My dear, this young man could do with a drink of cold milk.’
The woman, who was about the same age as the man, in her forties perhaps, gave me a shrewd look and then laughed. She said, ‘Your wits aren’t as sharp as once they w
ere, Jethro. Either that or your eyesight’s failing. This isn’t a young man, it’s a girl-child.’
The man stared hard at me and then said, ‘Bless me if you’re not right, Martha. This is a rum go and no mistake! What’s the meaning of it, young fellow – I mean lady?’
‘What’s your name, honey?’ asked the woman.
‘I’m Beth Taylor.’
‘Well, Beth Taylor, just set yourself at the table and tell us what’s going on.’
‘I can’t stay long, I have to take word to Fort Richmond, north of here.’
The woman and the man I now took to be her husband exchanged looks, and then she said, ‘Tell us what this is about, child. Mayhap we can aid you.’
So it was that I consented to sit at the table with a mug of foaming, creamy milk and gave them a brief account of the last few days of my recent life. I left out the shooting of the two men, feeling that this wasn’t a subject to bandy about. When I had finished, the man called Jethro shook his head and said, ‘Lord a mercy, I never heard the like!’ Then he grew very serious and said, ‘You say that there’s a great number of Comanches now crossed into this territory from the Indian Nations?’
‘So I took it from what I was told.’
‘Martha,’ said Jethro, ‘Call in those boys of ours from the fields. This wants thinking on.’
She whom I took to be his wife stood up and then left the house insomething of a hurry.
‘Have you ate lately?’ asked the man.
‘Yes, I thank you.’
‘I see you’re carrying a gun. Know how to use it?’
‘Yes,’ I replied in a hard, tight voice, ‘I should just about say as I do.’ Jethro looked at me oddly, and for a moment it seemed as though he were about to speak further. Then he gave an all but imperceptible shrug and remained silent. The woman called Martha returned with three tall, handsome young men, all of whom looked to be around the age of twenty or so.
‘These three useless articles are our sons,’ said their mother, with an air of obvious and undisguised pride, ‘From the left, there’s Ezra, Caleb and Joshua.’
The three boys looked as merry and high-spirited as you like, putting me in mind of my own brother. You had the feeling that life around these fellows would never be dull.
‘This here is Beth,’ continued their mother, ‘and she’s travelling on from here to take a message to some folks.’
Jethro interrupted at this point and said, ‘If what this girl says is right, we’re all of us in danger. Ezra, you and Caleb break out our musketry and powder. I reckon the four of us should be able to hold off any number of Indians from in here, should it come to it. Martha, my dear, perhaps you would start putting up the shutters. There’s loopholes enough for firing, should it come to it.’
I was amazed to hear the matter-of-fact way that this man gave directions for preparing for a siege, but I suppose that, living as they did in such wild country and so close to the Indian Nations, this wasn’t the first such alarm they had had.
‘What about me, Pa?’ asked one of his sons. ‘What shall I do?’
‘Here’s the way of it, son,’ said his father, ‘We needs must give the warning to our neighbours. They’d undertake the same office for us, if things were reversed. This young lady is riding to Fort Richmond to call on the army for help, seeing as they don’t yet know of this. She’s going to that set of Quakers first, over by the three falls. I thought that you and she could ride along of each other.’
‘I hate to leave you and Ma here—’ began the young man, but his father cut him off, firmly but definitely.
‘Would you like to hear it said later that we let a young girl, not yet sixteen years of age, carry the warning alone and fetch aid for us?’
At that, Joshua looked a mite shamefaced and said, ‘No, I guess not. You’re in the right, Pa. I’ll do it.’ He turned to me and then thrust out his hand, grinning in an engaging way. ‘My name’s Joshua and yourn is Beth, right?’
I smiled shyly and said, ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Well, well,’ said his father impatiently. ‘Get to and saddle up, son.’ Turning to me, he said, ‘We’re mighty grateful that you’ve brung us word of this hazard, Miss Taylor. I hope we’ll meet again.’
Joshua’s mother came over and embraced me, saying, ‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay here with us, my dear? I’ll warrant that son of mine is well able to spread word of this all the way clear up to Fort Richmond.’
‘It’s right kind of you ma’am, but I promised that scout that I’d do this my own self. I wouldn’t feel good about being faithless in an oath to a dying man.’
‘The girl’s right, Martha,’ said her husband. ‘She’s honourable and true. Now let them depart, or it’ll be too late.’
So it was that Joshua and I rode off from the farm where he and his family lived, and headed north along the way that would lead us to New Jerusalem.
I was glad indeed to have a travelling companion and this young fellow seemed to be a pleasant boy. Because I’d grown up with a brother of the same age, whom I was very close to, I never felt any awkwardness about being in the company of young men. Some of the girls I knew of my age in St Joseph simpered, blushed and giggled if a boy so much as bid them good day. I was never like that and enjoyed being with boys of my own age every bit as much as I did girls. This Joshua sensed that I wasn’t the giggling type of coquettish miss, and he was soon chatting away to me as though we’d known each other all our lives.
‘What’s this town, this New Jerusalem, like?’ I asked.
‘It’s a real nice location. All the folk there live like one big family. They share everything and all the people look out for one another.’
‘They pious?’ Many of the religious types that I had in the past encountered had been self-righteous hypocrites and I guess that I had it in mind to wonder what a whole town full of such people would be like. It was not, from what I had known of ‘religious’ people, an attractive prospect.
Joshua wrinkled his forehead and said, ‘I suppose you could call them pious, yes. But not in a stuffy, holy way. They’re just good folk who are right with the Lord and watch out for each other.’
‘How far might it be to there?’
‘Maybe fifteen miles, a bit more perhaps. I never calculated. We have to stop off at a few farms on the way, if that’s all right with you. We all spread word of any trouble like this and whoever first hears tells his neighbours.’
As we rode Joshua talked of his life on his father’s farm and I in turn told him about living in St Joseph. He was struck speechless to hear that I had ridden for the new Pony Express and after I had talked of that and finding the station at Smoky Mountain burned out, I found that he kept looking at me sideways, as if I were some sort of oddity or freak. When he became aware that I had caught him doing this, he flushed slightly and said, ‘I don’t mean to stare, but I never did meet a girl like you in my life. You got more grit than most boys.’
I laughed at that and said, ‘My brother and me, we did the same things as each other when we were growing up. Riding, shooting, wrestling. You name it, I can do it.’
‘See you’re carrying. Can you fire that pistol straight?’
Now I hadn’t felt like telling the story to grown people like his parents, but Joshua wasn’t more than a few years older than me, which meant I felt more at ease with him. I told him how I had shot the two men who had attempted to deprive me of my horse. When I had finished the tale, he said nothing for a few seconds and then exclaimed, ‘God almighty! I never heard the like. You are the beatenest girl I ever did set eyes on.’
I was extremely proud to hear Joshua say this and rode along afterwards with a pleasurable feeling.
The first farm we stopped at was a mean and poky little place, which looked to me more like a pigpen than anywhere that human beings might inhabit.
‘This here’s the O’Learys’ home,’ said Joshua, ‘They struggle hard, but never seem to get on overmuch.’
r /> He delivered the warning of the Indian incursion into the territory and we were neither invited to stay, nor indeeed did Joshua show any inclination to do so. After we had travelled on for a bit, he abruptly announced, ‘They really are a shiftless bunch. We’re always helping them out in different ways. Old Mick O’Leary, he’s a moonshiner. Drinks as much as he sells of the poteen, far as I can make out.’
‘If we carry on straight along this track, will that bring us to New Jerusalem?’
‘No, when we reach a river, five miles from here, this track starts going to the right. To get to Jerusalem you need to veer to the left a mite. There’s no track at first, but if you keep going for a space, you come upon it.’
‘What about this Fort Richmond? Is the road to that easy to find after you leave Jerusalem?’
‘Yes, it’s a straight road from there, all the way to the fort.’
The next little homestead at which we called was a good deal more pleasant than that of the O’Learys. It was a bright, two-storey wooden house, encircled by neat and well-tended fields. Alongside the house was a little vegetable garden.
I remarked, ‘This is sweet.’
‘Friend of mine lives here,’ said Joshua, looking bashful. ‘Real good friend.’
There was a woman working at the back of the house, and when she saw us coming she waved. Once we were near enough she said cheerfully, ‘If you’re looking for that daughter of mine, Joshua, your luck’s out. Ellie-May has gone visiting with her father.’
When Joshua had apprised her of the real reason for our visit the woman went pale and said, ‘Lord, you don’t say so? You saw no sign of marauders on your way here?’
‘Not a bit of it ma’am, but you’d best stay in the house. You have weapons to hand?’
‘I got a musket,’ she said grimly, ‘Know how to use it too. Well, I’ll bid you good day and I’ll make sure to pass your greeting on to Ellie-May.’
As we left I began chaffing Joshua gently about this Ellie-May. He took it in good part and I found that I could talk as free and easy to this good humoured farm boy as I could to my own brother. In the short time that we had known each other, I think that I had the measure of him and I was glad of the instinct which had led me to his door. It surely was more agreeable to ride along like this with a companion who knew the area, rather than wander about, hoping for the best. Our mission might have bee a deadly serious one, but we were also two youngsters out riding – on a fine April morning as well – and there was something pleasurably exciting about what we doing. It made me feel real grown up.