LAHOMA(拉霍马)

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LAHOMA

by John Breckenridge Ellis

LAHOMA

CHAPTER I

THE TOUCH OF A CHILD

"I have given my word of honor--my sacred oath--not to betray what I

have discovered here."

At these words from the prisoner, a shout arose in which oaths and

mocking laughter mingled like the growling and snapping of hunger-

maddened wolves.

"Then if I must die," Gledware cried, his voice, in its shrill excitement,

dominating the ferocious insults of the ruffians, "don't kill the child--you

see she is asleep--and she's so young--only five. Even if she were awake,

she wouldn't know how to tell about this cabin. For God's sake, don't kill

the little girl!"

Since the seizure of Gledware, the child had been lying on the rude

table in the midst of a greasy pack of cards--cards that had been thrown

down at the sound of his galloping horse. The table supported, also, much

of the booty captured from the wagon-train, while on the dirt floor beside

it were prizes of the freebooting expedition, too large to find resting-place

on the boards. Nor was this all. Mingled with stolen garments, cans and

boxes of provisions, purses and bags of gold, were the Indian disguises in

which the highwaymen from No-Man's Land had descended on the

prairie-schooners on their tedious journey from Abilene, Kansas, toward

the Southwest.

In the midst of this confusion of disguises, booty and playing-cards,

surrounded by cruel and sensual faces, the child slept soundly, her lips

slightly parted, her cheeks delicately flushed, her face eloquent in its

appeal of helplessness, innocence and beauty. One of the band, a tall

broad-shouldered man of middle-age, with an immense quantity of

whiskers perhaps worn as a visible sign of inward wildness, was, despite

his hardened nature, moved to remonstrance. Under cover of lurid oaths

and outrageous obscenity, he advanced his opinion that "the kid" needn't

be shot just because her father was a sneak-jug spy.

"Shut up!" roared a tremendous voice, not directly to the intercessor,

or to the prisoner, but to all present. Evidently it was a voice of authority,

LAHOMA

for comparative silence followed the command. The speaker stepped

forward, thrust his fingers through his intensely red shock of hair, and

continued, with one leg thrust forward:

"You know I am something of an orator, or I guess you wouldn't of

made me your leader. Now, as long as I'm your leader, I'm going to lead;

but, I ain't never unreasonable, and when talk is needed, I'm copious

enough. I am called 'Red Kimball,' and my brother yonder, he is knowed

as 'Kansas Kimball.' What else is knowed of us is this: that we wasn't

never wont to turn loose a spy when once ketched. Here is a man who says

he is Henry Gledware--though God knows if that's so; he comes galloping

up to the door just as we are in the midst of a game. I stakes all my share

of the spoils on the game, and Brick Willock is in a fair way to win it, that

I admit, but in comes this here spy--"

The prisoner in a frenzied voice disclaimed any purpose of spying.

That morning, he had driven the last wagon of the train, containing his

invalid wife and his stepdaughter--for the child lying on the table was his

wife's daughter. At the alarm that the first wagon had been attacked by

Indians, he had turned about his horses and driven furiously over the

prairie, he knew not whither. All that day he had fled, seeing no one,

hearing no pursuing horse-beat. At night his wife, unable, in her weak

condition, to sustain the terrible jolting, had expired. Taking nothing from

the wagon but his saddle, he had mounted one of the horses with the child

before him, and had continued his flight, the terrific wind at his back.

Unaware that the wind had changed, he had traversed horseback much of

the distance traveled during the day, and at about two in the morning--that

is to say, about all hour ago--seeing a light, he had ridden straight toward it,

to find shelter from the storm.

The prisoner narrated all this in nervous haste, though he had already

given every particular, time and again. His form as well as his voice

trembled with undisguised terror, and indeed, the red and cruel eyes

fastened contemptuously on him might have caused a much braver man

than Gledware to shudder visibly.

"Well, pard," said the leader of the band, waiting until he had finished,

"you can't never claim that you ain't been given your say, for I do admire

LAHOMA

free speech. I want to address you reasonable, and make this plain and

simple, as only a man that has been alleged to be something of an orator

can accomplish. My men and me has had our conference, and it's decided

that both of you has got to be shot, and immediate. The reasons is none but

what a sensible man must admit, and such I take you to be. I am sorry this

has happened, and so is my men, and we wish you well. It's a hard saying,

pard, but whatever your intentions, a spy you have proved. For what do

you find on busting open our door? Here we sit playing with our booty for

stakes, and our Indian togs lying all about. You couldn't help knowing that

we was the 'Indians' that gutted them wagons and put up the fight that left

every man and woman dead on the field except that there last wagon you

are telling us about. You might wish you didn't know the same, but once

knowed, we ain't going to let you loose. As to that wagon you claim to

have stole away from under our very noses--"

A skeptical laugh burst from the listeners.

Gledware eagerly declared that if he had the remotest idea in what

direction it had been left, he would be glad to lead them to the spot. He

could describe it and its contents--

"You see, pard," Red Kimball interposed, "you are everlasting losing

sight of the point. This here is 1880, which I may say is a recent date.

Time was when a fellow could live in Cimarron, and come and go free and

no questions asked--and none answered. But civilization is a-pressing us

hard, and these days is not our fathers' days. We are pretty independent

even yet in old Cimarron, but busybodies has got together trying to make

it a regular United States territory, and they ain't going to stand for a real

out-and-out band of highwaymen such as used to levy on stage-coaches

and wagon-trains without exciting no more remarks than the buffaloes.

You may be sorry times is changed; so am I; but if times IS fresh, we

might as well look 'em in the face. Us fellows has been operating for some

years, but whatever we do is blamed on the Indians. That there is a secret

that would ruin our business, if it got out. Tomorrow, a gang of white men

will be depredating in the Washita country to get revenge for today's

massacre, and me and my men couldn't join in the fun with easy

consciences if we knowed you was somewheres loose, to tell your story."

LAHOMA

Again Gledware protested that he would never betray the band.

"Oh, cut this short," interposed Kansas Kimball, with an oath.

"Daylight will catch us and nothing done, if we listen to that white-livered

spy. We don't believe in that wagon he talks about, and as for this kid, he

brought her along just to save his bacon."

"No, as God lives!" cried Gledware. "Can't you see she is dead for

sleep? She was terrified out of her wits all day, and I've ridden with her all

night. Don't kill her, men--" He turned impassioned eyes on the leader.

"Look at her--so young--so unsuspecting-- you can't have the heart to

murder a child like that in cold blood."

"Right you are!" exclaimed the man with the ferocious whiskers--he

who had been spoken of as Brick Willock. "You'll have to go, pard, but I'm

against killing infants."

The leader darted an angry glance at the man who, but for the

untoward arrival of Gledware, would have won from him his share of the

booty. But his voice was smooth and pleasant as he resumed: "Yes, pard,

the kid must die. We couldn't do nothing with her, and if we left her on

some door-step, she's sure old enough, and she looks full sharp enough, to

tell sufficient to trammel us good and plenty. If we sets her loose in the

prairie, she'd starve to death if not found--and if found, it would settle our

case. And as Kansas says, this debate must close, or daylight will catch

us."

Brick Willock, with terrible oaths, again expressed himself as strongly

opposed to this decision.

"Well, Brick," said Red, with a sneer, "do YOU want to take the kid

and raise her, yourself? We've either got to do away with her, or keep her

hid. Do YOU want to be her nurse, and keep with her in some cave or

other while we go foraging?"

Willock muttered deep in his throat, while his companions laughed

disdainfully.

"We've had enough of this!" Red declared, his voice suddenly grown

hard and cold. "Kansas, take the prisoner; Brick Willock, as you're so fond

of the kid, you can carry HER." He opened the door and a rush of wind

extinguished the candle. There was silence while it was being relighted.

LAHOMA

The flickering light, reddening to a steady glow, revealed no mercy on the

scowling countenances about the table, and no shadow of presentiment on

that of the still unconscious child.

Red went outside and waited till his brother had drawn forth the

quivering man, and Brick Willock had carried out the girl. Then he looked

back into the room. "You fellows can stay in here," he said authoritatively.

"What we've got to do ain't any easier with a lot of men standing about,

looking on."

The man who had relighted the candle, and who crouched to shield it

with a hairy hand from the gust, nodded approval. His friends were

already gathering together the cards to lose in the excitement of gambling

consciousness of what was about to be done. Red closed the door on the

scene, and turned to face the light.

The wind came in furious gusts, with brief intervals of calm. There

were no clouds, however, and the moon, which had risen not long before,

made the prairie almost as light as if morning had dawned. As far as the

eye could reach in any direction, nothing was to be seen but the level

ground, the unflecked sky, the cabin and the little group near the tethered

ponies.

Gledware had already been stationed with his face toward the moon,

and Kansas Kimball was calmly examining his pistol. Between them and

the horses, Brick Willock had come to a halt, the little girl still sleeping in

his powerful arms. Red's eagle eye noted that she had unconsciously

slipped an arm about the highwayman's neck, as if by some instinct she

would cling the closer to the only one in the band of ten who had spoken

for her life.

Red scowled heavily. He had not forgiven Willock for beating him at

cards, still less for his persistent opposition to his wishes; and he now

resolved that it should be Willock's hand to deal the fatal blow. He had

been troubled before tonight by insubordination on the part of this man of

bristling whiskers, this knave whose voice was ever for mercy, if mercy

were possible. Why should Willock have joined men who were without

scruple and without shame? As the leader stared at him sullenly, he

reflected that it was just such natures that fail at the last extremity of

LAHOMA

hardihood, that desert comrades in crime, that turn state's evidence. Yes--

Willock would deal the blow, even if Red found it necessary to call all his

men from the cabin to enforce the order.

The captain's fears were not groundless. He would have been much

more alarmed, could he have known the wonderful thoughts that surged

through Willock's brain, and the wonderful emotions that thrilled his heart,

at the warm confiding pressure of the arm about his neck.

LAHOMA

CHAPTER II

BRICK MAKES A MOVE

As Kansas Kimball raised his weapon to fire, the man before him

uttered a cry of terror and began to entreat for his life. In the full light of

the dazzling moon, his face showed all the pallor, all the contortions of a

coward who, though believing himself lost, has not the resolution to mask

his fear. He poured forth incoherent promises of secrecy, ejaculations of

despair and frenzied assurances of innocence.

"Hold on, Kansas!" interposed Red. "There's not a one of the bunch

believes that story about the last wagon getting away, and the dying wife.

We know this Gledware is a spy, whatever he says, and that he brought the

kid along for protection. He knew if we got back to No-Man's Land we

couldn't be touched, not being under no jurisdiction, and he wanted to find

us with our paint and feathers off. He's a sneaking dog, and a bullet's too

good for him. But --"with an oath--"blessed if he don't hate to die worse

than any man ever I saw! I don't mind to spare him a few minutes if he's

agreeable. I put it to him--would he rather the kid be put out of the way

first, and him afterwards, or does he want the first call?"

"For God's sake, put it off as long as you will!" quavered the prisoner.

"I swear I'm no spy. I swear--"

"This is unpleasant," the captain of the highwaymen interposed. "Just

you say another word, and I'll put daylight into you with my own hand.

Stand there and keep mum, and I'll give you a little breathing space."

Kansas, not without a sigh of relief, lowered his weapon and looked

questioningly at his brother. The shadow of the log cabin was upon him,

making more sinister his uncouth attire, and his lean vindictive face under

the huge Mexican hat. Gledware, not daring to move, kept his eyes fixed

on that deep gloom out of which at any moment might spurt forth the red

flash of death. From within the cabin came loud oaths inspired by cards or

drink, as if the inmates would drown any calls for mercy or sounds of

execution that might be abroad in the night.

"Now, Brick Willock," the leader spoke grimly, "take your turn first.

That kid's got to die, and you are to do the trick, and do it without any

LAHOMA

foolishness."

"I can't," Willock declared doggedly.

"Oh, yes; yes, you can, Brick. You see, we can't 'tend to no infant class,

and I ain't hard-hearted enough to leave a five-year-old girl to die of

hunger on the prairie; nor do I mean to take her to no town or stage-station

as a card for to be tracked by. Oh, yes, you can, Brick, and now's the

time."

"Red," exclaimed Willock desperately, "I tell you fair, and I tell you

foul, that this little one lives as long as I do."

"And what do you aim to do with her, eh, Brick?"

Willock made no reply. He had formed no plans for his future, or for

that of the child; but his left arm closed more tightly about her.

"Now, Brick," said Red slowly, "this ain't the first time you have

proved yourself no man for our business, and I call Kansas to witness

you've brought this on yourself--"

Without finishing his sentence, Red swiftly raised his arm and fired

pointblank at Willock's head as it was defined above the sleeping form.

Though famed as an orator, Red understood very well that, at times, action

is everything, and there is death in long speaking. He was noted as a man

who never missed his mark; and in the Cimarron country, which belonged

to no state and therefore to no court, extensive and deadly had been his

practise, without fear of retribution.

Now, however, his bullet had gone astray. The few words to which he

had treated himself as an introduction to the intended deed had proved his

undoing. They had been enough to warn Willock of what was coming; and

just before Kansas had been called on "to witness," that is an instant

before Red fired, Willock had sent a bullet through the threatening wrist.

The two detonations were almost simultaneous, and Red's roar of pain, as

he dropped his weapon, rang out as an accompaniment to the crash of

firearms.

The next instant, Willock, with a second shot from his six-shooter,

stretched Kansas on the ground; then, rushing forward with reversed

weapon, he brought the butt down on Red's head with such force as to

deprive him of consciousness. So swift and deadly were his movements,

LAHOMA

so wild his appearance as, with long locks streaming in the wind and huge

black whiskers hiding all but glittering eyes, aquiline nose and a brief

space of tough red skin--so much more like a demon than a man, it was no

wonder that the child, awakened by the firing, screamed with terror at

finding her head pressed to his bosom.

"Come!" Willock called breathlessly to the prisoner who still stood

with his back to the moon, as if horror at what he had just witnessed

rendered him as helpless as he had been from sheer terror. Still holding the

screaming child, he darted to the ponies that were tied to the projecting

logs of the cabin and hastily unfastened two of the fleetest.

Henry Gledware, awakened as from a trance, bounded to his side.

Willock helped him to mount, then placed the child the saddle in front of

him.

"Ride!" he urged hoarsely, "ride for your life! They ain't no other

chance for you and the kid and they ain't no other chance for me."

He leaped upon the second pony.

"Which way?" faltered Gledware, settling in the saddle and grasping

the bridle, but without the other's practised ease.

"Follow the moon--I'll ride against the wind--more chance for one of

us if we ain't together. Start when I do, for when they hear the horses

they'll be out of that door like so many devils turned loose on us. Ride,

pardner, ride, and save the kid for God's sake! Now--off we go!"

He gave Gledware's pony a vicious cut with his lariat, and drove the

spurs into his own broncho. The thunder of hoofs as they plunged in

different directions, caused a sudden commotion within the isolated cabin.

The door was flung open, and in the light that streamed forth, Willock,

looking back, saw dark forms rush out, gather about the prostrate forms of

the two brothers, move here and there in indecision, then, by a common

impulse, burst into a swinging run for the horses.

As for Gledware, he never once turned his face. Urging on his horse at

utmost speed, and clasping the child to his breast, he raced toward the

light. The shadow of horse, man and child, at first long and black, lessened

to a mere speck, then vanished with the rider beyond the circle of the level

world.

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LAHOMA1LAHOMAbyJohnBreckenridgeEllisLAHOMA2CHAPTERITHETOUCHOFACHILD"Ihavegivenmywordofhonor--mysacredoath--nottobetraywhatIhavediscoveredhere."Atthesewordsfromtheprisoner,ashoutaroseinwhichoathsandmockinglaughtermingledlikethegrowlingandsnappingofhunger-maddenedwolves."ThenifImustdie,"Gledwarecried,...

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