Chapter 3

Keith's first opportunity to use the crossbow in his new profession came sooner than he had expected. He was strolling through some woods when he heard a woman scream. He reacted immediately by dropping the tow rope of his sled and picking up his crossbow. He didn't really know why he took the crossbow, rather than the rifle; possibly, it was because he had spent so much time practicing with it lately. For whatever reason, he was carrying it and the quiver of bolts when he ran toward the source of the noise.

He found a group of 5 Comanches surrounding a White man and woman. The man appeared to be dead; he was hanging by his arms from a tree limb, horribly mutilated and nearly dead, if not already so. The woman was tied to a tree with her hands tied behind her. A Comanche was cutting her clothes from her as Keith came into sight. He was about 40 yards from the tableau and still hidden among the trees.

He took no time to think, but reacted immediately to do what he could to help the woman. He cocked his crossbow, loaded in a bolt, and aimed at the back of the menacing Comanche between his shoulder blades. The other Comanches were standing around watching the first man as he raised his knife to make the last cut to remove her clothes. The bolt caught the Comanche just below the shoulder blades and a little to the right of center. The bolt went tearing through his body, pierced his heart, and still had enough force that the razor-sharp steel head actually poked out of his chest.

The force of the impact threw the man against the woman, the bolt head just missing cutting her breast. The other Indians laughed, thinking that the first Indian was playing some game, but gaped in surprise when he fell dead at their feet. The bolt was not sticking out of the man's back, as they would expect for a common arrow, and they had heard no report from a rifle. Thus, they could not think what had killed the man, but they would soon find out.

More quickly than he could have reloaded his rifle, Keith cocked and loaded another bolt into his crossbow. He aimed at another Comanche and fired. This shot went just a little higher that its aiming point and tore a massive hole in the man's throat. It passed through his windpipe and sliced a long cut in a caryatid artery as it passed explosively through his neck. Blood spattered everywhere, some of it landing on the nearby Indians, but they still did not know where the missiles were coming from.

They were so frightened by this "magical" appearance of death that they raced for their horses to escape. Keith's third shot caught one of the escaping Indians in the left kidney as he was riding away. He did not fall from his horse, but managed to stay mounted, though he would be dead in minutes, suffering in horrible pain. This would give his friends a chance to marvel at the strange arrow that had claimed his life. Thoughts of demons would start to circulate in their heads before they even finished this ride.

The Indians were now out of range, so Keith turned to render such assistance as he could to the woman. She was physically uninjured by her ordeal, but she was mentally and emotionally shaken by the torture of her companion. Keith cut her loose and helped her to lie down on some grass, he covered her with the remnants of her clothes before cutting the man's body down from the tree. Keith dragged the man out of sight and returned to the woman.

She had fainted, probably from relief, and was lying quietly, so Keith did not disturb her. He dragged the two dead Indians to one side and cut the bolts from their bodies before the woman awoke. He cleaned the blood and other debris from the two bolts and returned them to his quiver before retrieving his sled and sitting down to wait for the woman to regain consciousness.

While sitting there and thinking over the latest action, he realized that he had gotten off 3 shots with the crossbow in less time than he would have needed for 2 shots with the rifle. That was another advantage to chalk up to the crossbow, something he had not anticipated. So far, the only advantage he could attribute to the rifle was the improved accuracy over the longer range, but he rarely had need to shoot at long range, so that advantage tended to disappear. From now on, he planned to favor the crossbow for his shots at Comanches.

The woman finally came around, and Keith spoke, "Ma'am, ya're safe, now. Them Comanches have run off. My name is Keith Murray. What's yers?"

"Thank ya so much fer saving me, Mr. Murray. My name is Samantha Whitetower. Where is my brother?"

"He's jus' tother side of the tree, Miss Whitetower. I was fixin' ta bury him after I rested a bit."

"Oh, those damned Comanches! He suffered mightily afore he died. I wish I could do the same fer all of them."

"I know how ya feel. My wife wuz tortured an' kilt a few months ago. I aim ta kill as many Comanches as I kin afore I die."

"How I wish I wuz a man soz I could jine ya in yer hunt fer the savages! My brother wuz the last of my family, soz I'm all alone, now. I kin hunt an' shoot as well as any man, soz I know I could hold up my end."

"Do ya really feel that way, or is it the grief talkin'? I ain't lookin' fer no partner, but I kin understand ifen ya means what ya say."

"Yes, I do mean it! Jus' let me show ya what I kin do. Ya'll be surprised, fer shore."

"OK, but there'll be two conditions. The first is that I ain't gonna make no concessions cause of yer gender. Ya has ta keep up, an' ya has ta do yer share of the chores. Tother is that we walk. We ain't goin' no place in a hurry, soz we don't need hosses ta git there. 'Sides, it's easier ta sneak up on a Comanche ifen ya're afoot. I move all my goods on this here sled, an' ya'd have ta do the same thin'. Ifen ya kin do that, I'll give ya a try. Oh, an' call me Keith."

"Shore thin', Keith. Since I'll be actin' like a man, call me Sam. But I do need some clothes. I can't go wanderin' around naked, I'll git all scratched up. 'Sides, folks'll talk!" The latter, Sam said with a grin.

"Good, ya ain't lost yer sense of humor. We're near enough ta the same size that ya kin wear my extra clothes 'til we kin git ya yer own. Kin ya wear yer brother's boots?"

"I guess I kin, ifen I wrap my feet in a couple of layers of rags. My dress'll do fer that. Will ya git me the stuff soz I kin git dressed, ifen ya please?"

Keith gave Sam his extra clothes from his pack and then retrieved her brother's boots. Sam cried as she put them on, but set her face into a determined look and stopped crying. Keith handed her his rifle and she expertly checked it to be sure that it was safe, though she found that it was loaded. Keith pointed out a target for her to shoot at, so she put a cap in place, aimed, and fired with no wasted motion. She hit her target. Sam quickly and expertly reloaded, aimed, and fired at the same target, which she hit.

Keith said, "That's enough, Sam. I'm satisfied that ya kin hit a target. We'll have ta see what happens when ya face a Comanche."

Sam said, "Please show me the weapon ya used ta kill them Comanches. I never heard no gun shot."

Keith showed her the crossbow and demonstrated its use. Sam was very impressed. "Where kin I git me one of them crossbows?" she asked.

"I got mine from a friend a few days ago. Let's go see ifen he kin spare another one."

They buried Sam's brother in a shallow grave and moved on to a better place to set up camp. Sam's horses had been killed when she and her brother were ambushed, so there was no concern for them. Their parents had died, and a bank had claimed all of their assets to pay off some loans her father had taken out, so she had nothing else to worry about. All she had was what she had with her, which included her brother's flintlock musket. Keith wondered if Reginald would take the musket in partial payment for another crossbow.

It took them a week to walk to Reginald's mansion, during which time Sam had a chance to prove that she could keep up and do her share of the work. Keith found that it was very pleasant to have someone to talk to as he traveled. Sam was also pleased with her companion, so the two got along quite well.

Reginald was happy to see the both of them and had them stay the night. When he heard Sam's story, he was moved by her plight. He traded her, even up, a crossbow and some bolts for the musket, which he planned to throw in the trash after she left. He also presented Keith and Sam with some additional broad-head bolt points so that they could make additional bolts as the ones they had got lost.