Abednego Merton and the Comancheros

Chapter 4

It was the better part of six hours and well past noon when Ed returned with the various provisions which Merton had asked him to fetch. In the course of that time, Merton had unwound the cloth which had bound around his chest and examined the furrow ploughed through his flesh by the minie ball. There wound had scabbed over and was painful, but it was not throbbing and neither was there any sign of pus. All this was encouraging, although the cracked rib still made it painful for him to draw too sharp a breath.

The boy had, on his own initiative, purchased some more comestibles; for which Abe Merton was mightily grateful. He said, ‘That was well thought of, son. We’ll make a seasoned campaigner of you yet.’

‘You still think we should …go for them after dark?’

‘That I do.’

‘But dusk ain’t like to fall for a good eight hours yet. What shall we do ‘til then?’

Abednego Merton looked at the youngster and couldn’t help liking what he saw. The boy was so fresh-faced and eager for action. He said slowly, ‘When folk talk about wars and fighting and such, they always manage to make it sound like it’s one long run of excitement. Well, it ain’t. There’s a deal more waiting around and getting bored than there is lively action. You might have a week of marching round and sitting doing naught, following by a few hours of shooting and killing. Then it’s all quiet again for days, sometimes weeks. It’s like to be the same now.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Like I said, we sit and wait.’

Merton was perfectly content to sit and think for a few hours and had no need for anybody else’s company while doing so. It was altogether different for Ed, who was unable to sit still and stop fidgeting. At first he sat and shied stones at a nearby rock, until one of them ricocheted off and almost struck Merton; whereupon he requested the youth to desist. For the next few minutes, the young man looked about him restlessly, made humming noises and then, to Merton’s horror, began whistling. At that he said sharply, ‘Have you lost your senses, boy? You want to advertise our presence here?’

Slowly, the hours crawled by, interspersed with the occasional stretch of desultory conversation and both men sleeping a little. After the sun had set and dusk was approaching, Merton told the young man, ‘You wait here. I’ll be back directly.’ He once more detached the telescope from his rifle and made off up the slope. By this time, Ed had seen enough of the older man’s ways to know that had he wanted company on his scouting, then he would have said.

When he returned, Merton said, ‘I wanted to check that the carts are well away from people. I don’t reckon that once the trouble erupts that any of those prisoners will feel the urge to fly towards danger.’

‘What’s your purpose? What will we do?’

‘What kind of shot are you? With a musket?’

Ed didn’t bother to boast, but instead gave the question some thought. After a pause, he said, ‘Fair to middling. Good enough for hunting.’

‘You never fire a heavy calibre musket?’

‘No sir, mostly scatterguns you know.’

‘But you can load and reload and keep firing in some general direction?’

‘I guess.’

Abe Merton set out his plan for the night’s adventure, which sounded to Ed almost in the nature of a suicide mission. His own role was less hazardous, but even so, there would be danger enough. As Merton set out the scheme, he would creep after dark into the Comanchero camp. As he said, they would be watching to stop their prisoners escape, rather than expecting anybody to try and sneak in. Once there, Merton would place the keg of powder on one of the wagons and then drench them both in lamp oil. Then he would fire the wagons and try and slip away unseen in the chaos which would doubtless ensue. Ed’s part in the affair would be to keep the Whitworth trained on the camp and, if shooting began, to start firing at anybody near the carts. Merton stipulated this, because he thought that once the fire began, then the girls would tend to keep as far away from it as they were able. He did not want to see the youngster shoot one of the captives in error.

‘Think you can do it?’ asked Abe Merton, ‘Just fire a few shots down as a distraction, if you hear any shooting?’

‘I reckon so.’

‘Good fellow. I’ll just run over the operation of that musket. The recoil’s something else again, you’ll need to be sure to keep it pressed firm against your shoulder or it’ll come near to breaking your collar bone. You’ll feel like you got kicked by a mule’

They waited for another two hours, until it was pitch dark. The night was moonless, which was auspicious. Together, the two of them made their way up the slope. By good fortune, Ed had been able to buy a five-pound keg of powder, which should make for a good explosion, if matters proceeded as planned. He cradled this with one arm, while carrying the can of lamp oil in the other hand. Over the lip of the rise, they were able to see the cheerful, ruddy glow of a campfire.

From all that Abdenego Merton was able to see, things could not have been better arranged had he been able to direct the disposition of the bandits to his own satisfaction. There were more men than before, indicating that the other party of which he had been told had now arrived to complete the complement. In the flickering light, he was able to see that the girls were well away from the fire and entirely separate from their captors. The wagons were right on the other side of the camp from the girls; far enough away that nothing that happened there would be likely to harm them. There was always a risk, of course, but if he failed to act, then there was nothing but stark certainty that his little girl would fetch up in a Mexican brothel and from Merton’s point of view, death would be a thousand times preferable to that fate.

Checking that his pistol was securely tucked in his belt and that the knife which he had used to slay the horse earlier that day was safely in the sheath affixed to his belt, he whispered to the lad at his side, ‘Mind now, not a shot are you to fire, unless either me or one of them starts shooting. Is that plain? And if you do have to fire, make sure you don’t aim anywhere near those girls over there, you hear what I tell you?’ Then he slipped off into the darkness, leaving a boy of fifteen as his only cover in what promised to be an exceedingly dicey and uncertain business.

Despite having told Ed that he thought that the men in the camp would be more worried about those wishing to escape, rather than fearing anybody approaching by stealth, Merton took careful stock, when once he had circled round the rim of the depression in which the Comancheros had established their base. After making almost a half circuit, all the time treading as lightly as he was able, for fear of alerting anybody to his presence, Merton found the smooth track along which they had most likely brought the carts into the hollow which they currently occupied. He peered down through the darkness and saw that a man was sitting on a boulder below him; smoking and at his leisure. This could only be their lookout of sentry.

Perched, as he was, six or ten feet above the man, Merton wondered what his best strategy might be for disposing of him without rousing the rest of the nest of skunks. Sometimes, the most obvious, straightforward and brutal way is the quickest and best. This was just such a case. Setting the keg of powder down carefully, Merton placed next to it the flask of oil. Then he drew the knife from its sheath. He was loth to be parted from the pistol, but did not want to run the risk of losing it in a tussle and so, with some little misgiving, he set that too on the rocks. Then, since he had already decided upon his course of action and there was no purpose in delaying the execution of his plans, he leapt onto the man’s back.

When you are one moment sitting and smoking, while at the same time musing idly on the charms of a young lady whom you hope to see within a few days and make passionate love to, then the arrival on your back from a height of eight feet of a weight of ten stone or so, is liable to knock the breath from you and leave you momentarily stunned. This was just the position of the young villain who was guarding the path into the camp. His surprise was destined to be short-lived though, for no sooner had he taken a deep breath, preparing to shout a warning to his friends that there was an intruder, than Abednego Merton had grasped his hair, jerked back his head and, with one strong, scything sweep, all but detached the young man’s head from his body.

The sound of the blood gushed out from the man he had jumped, which sounded in the darkness like water running from a faucet, was more than sufficient to persuade Merton that here at least was one bandit with whom he would not be contending in the future. A little winded himself from crashing into the man in that way, he never the less replaced the knife in its sheath and then clambered up the rocks to retrieve the supplies which he had left up there. Then he climbed down rapidly and made his way to the two carts. The boys sitting round the fire had had their night-vision spoiled by the glare of the flames and even if one of them had turned round now and stared straight towards Merton, as he slinked through the shadows, it is doubtful if he would have been seen.

The keg of powder, Merton placed on the first wagon, over which he also poured half the lamp oil. Then he splashed the rest of the oil over the other wagon and then placed the earthenware jar in front of the powder-keg. It was now facing the body of men clustered around their fire. Satisfied that all was just as he wanted it, Merton took the box of Lucifers from his pocket and struck one. He set the match to a part of one of the wagons where he had poured the oil. It took a second to catch, but then began a pale blue flame began to creep up the wooden side of the cart. It was now time to depart. Without running or making any sharp and sudden movements, Merton strolled briskly back the way he had come and then climbed up again to the ring of rocks surrounding the camp. Then he sat down and watched to see what would develop.

With all the hot, rainless weather of the season, the wood of which the two carts were composed was tinder-dry. By the time that somebody noticed what was amiss, both carts were blazing merrily. There was a cry of alarm and then some of the men ran towards the fire and called on the others to bring water. Those first there took off jackets and hats and began beating at the flames in an effort to extinguish them. This was better than Merton could have hoped for, because in no time, a dozen men were clustered around the carts, doing their best to put out the flames. They were having some little success with one of the carts and were gradually getting the better of the flames, when there was a roaring boom, like a clap of thunder near at hand. Hungry flames had reached the powder.

A puff of hot air, not unlike that which one gets when an oven door is opened, passed over Merton. He smiled grimly, wondering what damage his improvised mine had wrought. When the smoke cleared, he could see eight or ten figures laying on the ground. There was a tumult of shouting, swearing, groaning and cries of agony; all mixed in with the whinnying of some of the horses which had been tethered near the carts. Presumably the earthenware flask had been shattered by the explosion and, as Merton had planned, the fragments and splinters had all been hurled with the speed of bullets at anybody near at hand. Wanting to get back and assure his young partner that he was unhurt, Merton did not linger to observe his handiwork, but moved lower down the slope and worked his way back to the place where he had left Ed with his musket.

‘God almighty,’ said the boy, when Merton loomed up out of the darkness, I made sure you were dead!’

‘Not yet. And spare me your profanity. I’ll have the Whitworth back, if you please.’

‘I saw the fire and the explosion. Are many hurt?’

‘I’d say that at least five are killed. That takes the odds against us down a little. A few horses looked to be injured or killed too.’

‘What now?’

Merton said, ‘We need to get back to our mounts. I know where their little roadway is and I’m guessing that they’ll be heading straight for the border at first light.’

‘None o’ the girls was hurt, I saw that. My sister, she’s there alright, with the others.’

When they reached the little stream where the horses were tethered, Abe Merton wanted only to sleep, but the evening’s work was the most exciting thing which Ed had ever seen in his life and he wasn’t about to sleep without talking the business over. He said, ‘I weren’t a bit scared. Thought I would be, but I never felt any fear at all.’

‘Any man says as he doesn’t have fear when that kind of action begins, he’s either a liar or a mad fool. I hope you ain’t the latter, for we have other work to do yet.’

Although Merton could not see it in the dark, Ed blushed hotly at his words. After remaining quiet for a few seconds, he said, in a more subdued voice, ‘Well, maybe I was a little frightened, but I could still have fired on them fellows, had there been need.’

Feeling that he had perhaps been a mite harsh on the youngster, Merton said, ‘You think I don’t have fear? Even at this age? I’m nigh on sixty years of age and I am still nervous when I have to risk myself. Maybe more than when I was young. Old men value their skins more, I guess.’

‘You sir? Truly?’

‘Yes, I promise you. It’s no bad thing. I’ve rode with men who had no fear at all and let me tell you, that was scary in itself! A man who does not fear death will do all manner of crazy things.’

There was silence for a minute or so and Merton got ready to say his prayers, imagining that the two of them were now ready to sleep. But Ed had one last thing on his mind. He said, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Be quick about it then, for I want to rest, even if you don’t.’

‘Does it bother you, killing men? You seem right casual about it.’

Merton did not reply for a spell and the young man wondered if he was offended, but at last the older man said slowly, ‘It bothers me, son. But like it says in the Good Book, all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword. Matthew, twenty-six, verse fifty-four.’ He paused for a few seconds, before continuing, ‘Me and my girl were just travelling along, minding our own business, when those boys went for us. So far, I killed maybe a half-dozen of ‘em and if I’m spared, I mean to kill them all, every last one. They should’ve kept to their own selves, they’ve brought this wrath down on their heads through their actions. But I hope the Lord forgives them, all the same. I sure as hell won’t.’

Ed could think of no answer to this and so he and the old man laid themselves down and endeavoured to snatch a little sleep before what looked likely to be a particularly trying day.

The pain from his cracked ribs woke Abe Merton long before dawn and he lay awake in the darkness, considering the best step to take this day. It was a great mercy that the Comancheros would now be forced to proceed to the border on foot. True, they might at a pinch hoist the girls onto their saddles and try and move like that, but no horse would be able to carry such a load as two people for long; certainly not for many miles. Merton tried to cypher out the strength of the party. Arithmetic was not his strong suite and so he had to go over the figures twice to be sure that they were correct.

There had originally been thirteen men and eleven girls in that camp. Then a party of perhaps six men and the same number of girls had arrived some time yesterday, before he staged his assault. That meant nineteen men and seventeen girls. He had, he guessed, killed five of the men, which left fourteen of them, along with the girls. The question was, how many horses remained now? Certainly not enough for all to ride. No, that party would be travelling today and tomorrow at a pace limited by the feeblest and slowest of those girls. There would be plenty of time to harry them and take out more of those bandits.

In the sky over to the east, Merton could see the first, faint glimmering of dawn. He sat up and then prodded the slumbering youth roughly, saying, ‘Hey there! ‘Stead o’ sleeping like a hog, why don’t you get up and prepare for a lively day? You ought to take shame, youngster like you, still dreaming the day away while an old fellow like me is already awake.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Time you was up and doing. Come on, we’ve business to attend to.’

They broke their fast meagrely on dry bread and a little cheese, washed down with draughts of water from the nearby stream. By the time they had finished, the sky had faded from inky black to the deepest blue imaginable. Merton said, ‘We can leave our mounts here. I want to spy out the way that those boys are headed. I’m guessing that they’ll be breaking camp as early as can be, for they want to cut and run for the border. After last night’s game, they know that somebody’s taken agin ‘em and they’ll be on their guard. What they won’t do is delay and try to find us, for it would mean searching every nook and cranny of these hills and gullies.’

Together, Abednego Merton and his young companion walked up the slope towards the scene of the previous night’s attack. At Merton’s suggestion, they veered off to the right before reaching the ridge overlooking the camp and then clambered up some rocks until they were on the highest point for some distance. Below, they could see not only the encampment, but also the limestone way, as good as a road, which wound its way down to the south; in the direction of the Rio Grande.

From their vantage point, which was perhaps three quarters of a mile from the men and girls below, they had a perfect view of the shallow depression in which the bandits had made their base. Removing the Whitworth from his back, Merton removed the telescope and focused it on the scene below. He was able to count twelve men moving about, ready to break camp, and seventeen girls. There were also three men who were seated and, by the look of them, gravely injured. This was all better than he could have hoped for. He said, ‘Odds are shortening, son. Down to six to one now, from all that I am able to collect. Happen we can improve on that though.’

Merton reattached the telescope to the side of the musket’s barrel and said, ‘Once they’re on the move, I doubt they’ll want to stop and begin quartering the hills in search of us. They know enemies are at hand by now.’

‘What do you intend?’

‘Once they’re fairly on their way, I’m going to knock another of them over. I’ll like enough only have a chance for one, because they’ll scatter and dive for cover. One less is one less though.’

‘You’d shoot at them unawares?’

‘I would. You needn’t make out as that’s a sneaking act or cowardly, neither. Those men know now that they’re fighting us and it’s for them to end it, if they don’t have the stomach for more bloodshed.’

Ed remained silent, which irritated the older man. He had the distinct impression that the boy was implicitly criticising him. He said, ‘I only hope that those boys aren’t as ruthless as they could be and feel some loyalty to their comrades.’

‘Why’s that? How will that help us?’

‘If they’re real villains, they’ll leave their wounded behind. If not, then they’ll take them along with them. That’s mean three more horses taken up and also it will slow down the rest. Those men won’t be much use in a fight. What with the girls and three wounded men, it’ll be like a circus parade as they cross that plain. I’ll warrant they don’t have enough supplies either, which is one more good thing.’

‘I don’t see that. They run out of water or food, won’t they keep it to themselves and not share it with the girls?’

‘I’d say so. Means the girls are likely to be walking slower, fainting and whatnot. It’ll all tend to slow things down to a crawl.’

Ed looked at Merton with a look which was a cross between admiration for the clear head and cold logic of the other, tinged with disgust at the almost inhuman calculation which underlay his plans. The old man might well be right about how things worked and his efforts might bring back Ed’s sister, but he surely wouldn’t like to be such a man in forty years time.

Interpreting the young man’s look correctly, Abe Merton sighed and said, ‘Think of me what you will. I’d a sight sooner have my daughter safe with me, even if she was a little footsore and hungry, than have her sold into slavery across the border.’

Taking an accurate shot at something in excess of eight hundred and eighty yard is no mean feat and as he sighted down the telescope, Merton said, they’re saddling up, ready to leave. You duck down out of sight now. Soon as I shoot, we’re going to slip away quietly and fetch the horses.’

‘You don’t think they’ll come up here looking for us?’

‘No, I wouldn’t say so. They don’t have enough men to search all over these hills.’

Laying there watching the bandits mount up and start ordering the girls and getting them to start walking, Merton thought what a fine thing it would be if these boys had a leader of some sort. If they did and he could take out that man, it would make things easier for him and the boy. He observed closely the scene below him. All the men appeared to be equals and no especial notice was being taken of one over the rest.

There did not seem to be any spare mounts at all, which meant that Merton’s mine must have killed a few of the horses, as well as men. This too was heartening, for it meant that those boys had no leeway at all. They could not afford to overburden any of the beasts, which in turn would mean that the girls would not be getting any rides this day. Hannah was tough enough and he didn’t suppose for a moment that she would be the first to faint from heat, thirst or exhaustion, but he would be prepared to wager a considerable sum that at least one or two of those young women, maybe more, would collapse before dusk.

All seemed ready now for the departure of the men and their captives. Not seeing anybody who could pass for a leader, Merton thought that the next best thing might be to take down the biggest or most vicious-looking of the men. It was hard to choose between them at this range, so in the end, he chose one of them at random. By good fortune, some of the riders, who had not yet begun to move off, were bunched together, which meant that if he missed his target, then chances were he’d hit another of the bastards.

Breathing slowly and evenly, Merton drew down on his target. The rifle was resting on the rocks, which meant that it was as steady as you like. All he needed to do was ensure that he did not jerk in the slightest degree when he squeezed the trigger, but he had used this same kind of weapon often enough in the past to make that a remote likelihood. He breathed in, held his breath for a fraction of a second, and then fired. Merton had the immense satisfaction of seeing the man at whom he had been aiming, clutch his chest and then slip sideways, falling off his horse. The odds had shortened a little more.