The Indian Ring (17 page)

HIDE AND SEEK

Joshua and Brenna were walking back toward the many farm buildings, when they heard hoofbeats approaching. Strongheart took her by the hand, and they ran into the greenery along the wooded farm road. They ran through the woods back toward the farmhouse, but stayed out of sight of the driveway road. The hooves got closer and closer, and they both hid behind trees as the group rode by. Many more had joined Hartwell's gang, and at least a couple dozen gun toughs rode down the farm lane. Brenna recognized the man in the lead, who was a local farmhand saddle tramp who lived about twenty miles to the west but was frequently in trouble all over the area.

Strongheart recognized several of the riders and their horses, and said, “Hartwell's gang, and they have added some more gun hands.”

Brenna added, “The ugly skinny man in the lead with the pockmarked face is a local tough. I bet he saw you and Sammy headed this way and led them here for some cheap money.”

Joshua said, “Makes sense. We need to get into the house, and I need to hide on the island.”

Brenna said, “We are about to get to a path that runs right to the back, and we can hopefully go in one of the back doors without being seen, or we can get to the fruit cellar and take that tunnel into the basement.”

“Your father thought ahead,” Joshua said.

She smiled, saying, “I had that tunnel dug attaching the fruit cellar and the house, actually, in case of a tornado. We get them once in a great while.”

The hoofbeats were thundering as they came within sight of the big home. Through the trees, they saw one man pointing out locations to the rest, and he was consulting with the ugly one who led them there. Brenna nodded toward the fruit cellar door and Joshua felt they should dash for it right then before men started spreading out looking around the property. With Joshua holding Brenna's hand, they dashed across the backyard, which slanted downhill toward the large pond. They made it without incident. Inside, they lit a lantern, and she led him into the basement of the mansion, then up the stairway. They paused at the door, and she looked at the windows to ensure nobody was looking in them yet.

“It is safe,” she whispered.

They scurried through the doorway into the kitchen, and she led them to the hidden door that would lead him to safety. Strongheart stopped there and took her in his hands. She melted looking up into his dark brown eyes. They reminded her of something recent and powerful. Then it dawned on her. Just months earlier, she had traveled east to go shopping in Cincinnati, Ohio, and visited the new zoo there. The Zoological Society of Cincinnati was founded in 1873 and opened for visitors two years later. The Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden, the second oldest zoo in the United States, had an
early collection of animals that consisted of less than a dozen apes, two silvertip grizzly bears, three whitetail deer, six raccoons, two elk, a buffalo, a hyena, a tiger, an alligator, a circus elephant, and over four hundred birds. The zoo was sixty-five acres in size in the middle of the town. It hit her that she was totally fascinated looking into the eyes of the tiger. She saw so much power behind the eyes, and so much mystery in them. Joshua's eyes were affecting her the same way, except his eyes also made her feel tingly.

Strongheart said, “Brenna, come to the island and hide with me. You shouldn't talk to those men. They are looking for me. That man apparently saw Sammy and me coming here and will know I have been here.”

She said, “Joshua, please. My entire family and I have had to deal with several raids by members of the KKK looking for slaves. Many in the area knew we were part of the Underground Railroad and this was the first place they checked when there were reports of runaway slaves in the area. I have been threatened and even manhandled once. I will handle them. You must hide, please. I will be okay.”

Joshua winked at her and stepped back into the secret passageway. He closed the hidden door until it was just a crack, and she walked to the front door. Buck was running up the front steps of the porch as she walked out the door. Numerous horses pulled up in a semicircle in front of her.

A man in a black suit and twin tied-down pearl-handled Peacemakers looked at the pockmarked man and said, “Take Shaughnessy, and check the barns for his horse. Lady, we have already been told you took in a fugitive, Joshua Strongheart. Give him up and save yourself. Owens, ride back and fetch Mr. Hartwell. Tell him it is safe to ride up.”

A man took off at gallop while the other two headed toward the barn.

Brenda smiled saying, “Whatever do you mean, sir? All I have seen are a bunch of ruffians who refuse to act like gentlemen in the presence of a lady. Now you all can leave my property!”

Sammy Davis walked out the door and came down the step partway to stand next to her. He was holding his rifle.

Nobody spoke for several minutes, everyone just kept staring at each other. Suddenly, Robert Hartwell, looking very tiny on his big black Thoroughbred galloped up, accompanied by his top five gunmen.

He looked at Brenna and then Sammy, then back at her, saying, “Lady, one time and one time only: Where is Joshua Strongheart?”

She replied, “I don't know who you are but you all get off my property right now.”

Hartwell nodded and all five gunmen drew and fired at Sammy, hitting him multiple times, and killed him instantly. Brenna screamed and Joshua came flying out of the passageway and ran to the front window, immediately seeing what happened. He drew his pistol and aimed at Hartwell, but did not squeeze the trigger, worried that a hail of bullets would rain down on Brenna. He ran to the front door and burst out boldly aiming his Peacemaker at Hartwell.

“Freeze, everybody, or Hartwell dies!” Strongheart commanded.

He could see that many men wanted to go for their guns, but a few others really had scared looks on their faces. His earlier terror tactics had apparently worked on some. He also noted that all the blood had drained out of Hartwell's face.

Still aiming at the center of Robert Hartwell's chest, he said, “Brenna, inside. Buck, you get inside, too.”

As soon as both were safely inside the house, he backed up, seeing that several gang members really wanted to draw.
One finally did, and Joshua stepped back, shooting. His bullet was a little off, slamming into Hartwell's shoulder, and it spun him off the horse. A hail of bullets hit the front of the house and the doorway and one clipped Joshua's right triceps, as he backed into the house. He fanned his pistol as he backed up and shot two more. One fell out of the saddle half-dead and the other tried to spur his horse away in panic, but the blood quickly spilling out of him made him fall off the horse, dead before they went out of sight.

Inside the house, he grabbed Brenna and dropped her to the floor, his arm protectively around her. His arm hurt, but it could be used.

She said, “Joshua, you've been shot.”

Ignoring her, he said, “We need to get into the passageway and over to the island.”

Now it was her turn to ignore him saying, “Buck, go through the basement and out the side door, go through the orchard to the back of the stable. Saddle his horse and put his saddlebags and bedroll on it. Put his bridle in a saddlebag and turn his horse loose in the trees. Also, quickly saddle my big chestnut and do the same thing. Turn them out together. Then, you hightail it out of here through the woods.”

Buck said, “I ain't leavin' you, Miss Brenna.”

“Nonsense,” she said, “I am with Mr. Strongheart. He won't let me get hurt. You get out of here. They will start in the front of the stable. You hurry and don't argue, Buck. Get out of here, and go home to your wife and kids. Stay out of sight.”

“Yes'm,” he said.

Joshua interrupted, “He doesn't need to risk that. I'll go the stable.”

She quickly replied, “Joshua, he needs to get out of here anyway. Buck will be fine if he leaves now. Go, Buck, and thank you.”

Buck nodded and crawled on his belly toward the basement door. He went through it. Strongheart was very glad she'd thought of getting Eagle out of there.

•   •   •

Two men attended to Hartwell's shoulder, quickly bandaging the entrance and exit wounds, and getting the bleeding stopped.

He looked at two of the men and said, “Take one of the locals and get me a doctor.”

They nodded, and one grabbed another gang member, and the three sped off.

Hartwell hollered, “We finally got Strongheart where we want him. Surround the house and torch it. We'll shoot him when he is running out. Watch for shooting from the windows.”

Inside, Strongheart wrapped his arm protectively around Brenna and got her to the passageway door. She tore a strip off her petticoat and started wrapping it around his massive arm while she spoke.

“My father had a Gatling gun he kept just in case something like this happened.”

Strongheart said, “Where is it?”

She pointed at a door across the room, saying, “In his study! It's on wheels, Joshua.”

Strongheart said, “Great! Run to the house on the island and stay there. I'll join you.”

She stopped and looked up at him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

Bullets still flying through windows, he looked into her eyes and said, “I'm so sorry I brought this misery down upon you, Brenna.”

“Nonsense,” she said, “I was born into it.”

Strongheart said, “You know Hartwell will burn this house down?”

She nodded and said, “I am not about possessions. Things can be replaced.”

She grabbed a lantern and matches and turned into the passageway. He looked at her back and could tell she was sobbing. He ran to the study and found the automatic weapon.

The Gatling gun was a machine gun that consisted of ten barrels revolving around a central axis, and was able to fire .30-caliber bullets at a very rapid rate. An earlier .58-caliber version of it was first used by General Benjamin F. Butler of the Union Army first at the Battle of Petersburg, Virginia, in 1864.

The inventor, Dr. Richard J. Gatling, a physician, had hoped that the overwhelming power of his new invention would discourage large-scale battles and maybe end wars. He actually sold the guns to the Union during the war, but secretly belonged to the Order of American Knights, a clandestine group of Confederate sympathizers who also committed acts of sabotage.

The army adopted the version of the Gatling gun Joshua now had in his hands in 1866. It was mounted and had two wheels and could fire four hundred rounds per minute. There were several loaded magazines with it.

The Pinkerton ignored the pain in his right arm and wheeled the deadly gun to the front door. He moved it off to the side a little and opened the door, hiding behind the heavy oak of the doorframe. He peeked out and saw Hartwell had been carried out of sight, but most gang members were now dismounted and were yelling to each other about the door being opened. He soon had the result he wanted as many assembled together near the front. The half-breed
quickly wheeled the gun in front of the door and started turning the crank, causing immediate carnage in Hartwell's ranks, as they fell bloody all over the ground.

One of Hartwell's bodyguards, Kirby Hoover, moved forward along the trees to find out what was happening because of the thunderous shooting. He saw bloody men sprawled all over the front area of the house. While there, Kirby saw four who took off into the trees west of the house at a dead run, apparently quitting the gang as quickly as they had joined it with promises of rich bounties.

Hoover returned to his boss and knelt down saying, “Mr. Hartwell, we need to get you out of here and to a doctor. That hombre has a Gatling gun in the house, and he just killed over half the posse in just a couple minutes' time.”

Hartwell said, “Very well. Tell them to continue the siege but to be careful. Then set fire to the house and barns.”

The bodyguards got Hartwell up and into the saddle.

He said, “Kirby, you stay here and run this thing. I want Strongheart burned to a crisp if he doesn't come out. No witnesses.”

“You got it, boss,” Kirby said, as he took off toward the house.

One brave soul made it up close to the eastern porch on the side of the house and tossed a torch up onto the veranda. It started catching the outer wall of the house, and the flames quickly started shooting up. All the rest were hiding behind trees, rocks, troughs, or anything available. The Gatling gun had made believers out of most of them.

Strongheart, in the meantime, out of bullets for his machine gun, dismantled it from its mount so he could carry the big gun through the hidden door and place it inside the passageway. He just wanted to keep Hartwell's men from getting their hands on it. He carried the gun into the
passageway, ran back to the front windows, and fired a couple shots out into the midst of the besiegers. Joshua wanted to keep their heads down longer. It worked.

He went into the cabin on the island and Brenna ran into his arms. She started sobbing and then caught herself and stepped back.

She said, “Take off your shirt and sit down here at the table.”

She already had medicine, bandaging, a pan with soap and water, and a small bottle of whiskey. He complied, and she started dressing his wound.

“Thank you, Brenna,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

They could now hear the crackling and explosions from the mansion burning and tears started dropping down her cheeks. He took her hands and set down the rest of the bandage and pulled her against him, letting her head rest on his big chest. She started bawling her eyes out, while Strongheart softly stroked her hair. She cried for five minutes, then collected herself and stepped back with a sniffle here and sniffle there. She set her jaw defiantly.

“Joshua, thank you, but it is gone now, and I can do nothing about it,” she said, sniffling. “I would be glad to lose it all just to have Sammy alive right now. Will we be killed, too?”