Chapter 8

Unfortunately, the information I had on the large gang of bandits did not include any data on where I might find them. Therefore, we were going to have to go on the alert almost the moment we left town. Actually, it was my guess that the first mile was safe, but all bets were off after that.

I rode into the rather thin woods about 200 feet to the left and followed along as the women drove the wagons down the road. We were about four miles out of town when a shot rang out and Sarah screamed that she was hit. June was driving the lead wagon and immediately came to a stop. June and Sarah dropped to the bed of the wagon in front of the drivers seat and got ready to fight.

Mary was driving the second wagon and she moved up until she was beside the first wagon. June was madly ringing the bell, and Alice, Mary, and the two kids took what shelter they could by dropping to the bed of the second wagon. Mary handed Johnny a converted Colt Navy and reminded him to use both hands to hold the gun when he pulled the trigger. No one had given Johnny any specific instruction on how to use a pistol, but he had seen all of the women practice. He was a quick learner, and he just might be of some help in the upcoming fight.

Fortunately, Sarah's wound was superficial and was in the upper part of her left arm. I'm sure that the shooter had been aiming at June, but hit Sarah instead, purely by accident. Oh, well, that was not really important. What was important was that we were under attack, but none of us had see anyone to shoot at, yet. However, that was soon to change.

A quick count showed that eight men were charging the wagons, firing their pistols as they came. Surely, they were mostly trying to intimidate the women in the wagons, figuring to add rape to the loot taken this day. All four women stayed down low behind the wagon walls and waited until the riders got close enough. When they did, June shouted "NOW!" and four double barrel 10-gauge shotguns were fired at the charging men.

The women hurried, of course, but that did not keep them from taking some effort to aim their shots. Therefore, eight barrels of buckshot roared at the charging men, and all eight men, plus three of the horses, sustained wounds from the buckshot fired at them.

Three of the men were killed on the spot, and the rest turned their horses to escape. The women quickly reloaded and fired a second volley that killed three more men and two horses. Only two of the eight men survived those volleys of shotgun fire from the wagons, and they did not know about me, yet. Fortunately, there was enough of a breeze that the smoke dissipated quickly, so the women could see to shoot again if they had a target.

The women were doing such a good job of defending themselves that I held my fire until I could make a more definitive contribution to the fight. As long as the bandits didn't know that I was around, they might do something stupid that would let me strike a disabling blow when they weren't expecting it. It was my guess that we had eliminated no less than one-third of the gang and maybe as much as one-half of it. I expected them to be out for revenge, now, as much as anything else, so we might have an easier time in the fight as it progressed.

I had seen where the two escaping bandits had run to, so I knew the most likely place to find the rest of the gang. I made a sweeping arc around behind them so that we could get them caught between fire from two different directions. That can be the most unnerving sort of surprise, so that was what I hoped to do.

I rode through the rather open forest to get as close to the bandits as I could. I was prepared to shoot and run if I had to, but I had a more ambitious plan in mind. I was holding my pistols in each hand and guiding my horse with my knees, much as the Indians did. I had learned of this technique when I was in the Indian Territories, but this was my first chance to use it in earnest.

If the bandits were arrayed the way I hoped, I planned to use the fighting technique favored by most of the plains Indians. I was going to charge my enemies, catching them by surprise, though I would be using pistols instead of a lance. If this worked, I would completely destroy the cohesion of the gang, and cast real doubt upon the sagacity of the gang leader. I also hoped that they would attack us in a disorganized manner, thereby letting us defeat them in one fell swoop.

I managed to get within 100 feet of the gang without being spotted. I wish that I could attribute that feat to my great skill as a woodsman. However, I am sure that it was my luck at work again. Whatever the reason, there were two groups of men gathered in a small clearing. One of the groups appeared to be just lounging around, smoking and talking. The other group was engaged in heated conversation, and I assumed them to be the leaders of the band. There was an opening of about 30 feet between the two groups, and that was my selected path.

Neither group was very large. I counted four men in the group of leaders and seven in the other group. I also saw two men lying on the ground, obviously badly wounded—they must have been the two who escaped from the women and their shotgun volleys earlier in the day.

I made sure that everything on my side was ready, and, when I was satisfied, I touched my spurs to my horse. There was no need to jab him—he knew what I had in mind. He raced straight for that opening between the two groups, and I began to fire as soon as I was around 30 feet away. I always aimed each shot, though that was difficult from the back of a running horse. However, my surprise was so complete that neither group moved for a crucial five or more seconds.

By that time, I was close enough that I did not miss, no matter how jostled my aim was because of the running horse. I emptied both pistols, which meant 12 shots, and I am sure that at least nine of them found the target I was aiming at. Hell, it looked that I had effectively annihilated the remainder of the gang.

I was not being followed so I halted my horse and reloaded my guns. It dawned on me that I should try to follow at least one of the men who was running away. He might lead me to the cache of loot. If so, it was well worth the effort to try to follow him.

I didn't have time to return to the wagons before following the man I saw fleeing my attack. I decided to follow him for half an hour. After that, I would return to the wagons because I was sure that the women would worry about me if I were gone much longer than an hour.

Red was a fast horse, so I figured that I could catch the fleeing man almost any time I wanted to. I did ride close enough to him that I could see him racing away, but he never looked back to see if he was being followed. I stayed with him for about 20 minutes and we came to a large cabin hidden among the trees. There was a barn and corral associated with the cabin. I also saw a well and an outhouse.

The man rode up to the cabin and yelled to someone inside. Three men came out and there was a loud and animated conversation. Shortly thereafter, the four men went into the cabin. OK, this must be the hideout, so I can go back to the wagons, and we can plan our next move when I get there.

There was the usual question of "What took you so damned long to get back?" I gave a synopsis of what I had done and asked for opinions on what we should do about the cabin that I had found. The reaction was unanimous: WE will go after the men in the cabin. It turned out that Sarah's wound had done more to startle her than to cause her any injury, and it was treated and bound in a clean bandage, so she insisted that she should not be left out of the attacking force.