Whirlwind

Chapter 9

Han woke as the sun rose above the horizon. Growing up on a farm, this was how his body’s cycle had always worked. Rise at dawn and go to bed soon after dusk. He dressed, got everything together and slipped quietly from the house. There was nobody about as he walked to the sheriff’s office. Pete McGuire was still seated at his desk and he looked pleased to see Han. “Well, you are an early riser and no mistake.” he said cheerfully.

They went into the back, to find that Jed Holt was also awake. McGuire had cuffed his hands in front of him before he went to sleep the night before, which made him a little safer than he would otherwise have been. He greeted Han, saying, “Sure is a fine day for a little ride out.”

McGuire said, “Just keep your mouth shut, Holt. I have had to lose a night’s sleep protecting your worthless neck. Late last night, I received word of some gunfight not far from here. I will take oath that that is how your brother died.”

“Talking of which,” said Holt, “I hope that you will see my brother receives a decent funeral, such as befits his status?”

“He will be buried as a pauper in an unmarked grave nigh to the church, if that is what you mean.” replied the sheriff, who was feeling tetchy from having to set up the whole entire night in this way.

Holt leaned close to the sheriff and said, “I catch ahold of you without these cuffs on, you are dead. You know this?”

McGuire gave him a shove, which almost sent him over. “Do not provoke me by this vain bluster today, Jed. I am not in the right mood for such foolishness.” Turning to Han, he said, “I will walk over to the livery stable with you and see you both mounted and safely on your way. Take my advice and do not take those cuffs off him for any purpose. He can get his drawers down if he needs to answer any calls of nature and I doubt that it will matter if he cannot get undressed if you are sleeping out tonight.”

Once they had the horses dealt with and before they had mounted, the sheriff offered Han the key to the handcuffs. Han said, “You know what, it would make more sense if I was not carrying that thing. It would be open invitation for Holt to try and murder me in the night so that he could free himself. Surely they can saw the things off when we get to Hopetown?

Holt gave a roar of laughter when he heard this. “If that boy is not the sharpest one of all of us. He puts you to shame in the brains department McGuire.”

So it was that Hohanonivah Jackson set off north, riding side by side with the man who had murdered his parents. He kept a little behind the man he was escorting, because he would not have put it past Holt to try and jump him, chained together though his hands were. Holt whistled a jaunty little tune as though they were going hunting together, rather than setting off on an expedition which was likely to end in his ignominious death.

Holt made no attempt to talk to Han. As for Han, he had his pistol tucked loosely in hi belt;ready to use it at a moment’s notice. His rifle was also loaded and it was only now after they had set out, that he began to wonder how it would work out at night. If he fell asleep, this man would make sure to steal his weapons and kill him into the bargain. It was while he was considering deep about this problem that he caught sight of a rider ahead. The person did not want to be seen and the very first thought in Han’s mind was that this a plot to free Holt. He said to the man, “Hold up now. Rein in your horse.”

Holt did so and said, “What’s to do?”

“Look up ahead. There is a rider behind those trees. He is waiting for us. Would this be perhaps some friend of yours?”

“ I do not think that I have any friends remaining alive. Your guess is as good as mine as to who this is and what is his purpose.”

“We shall soon see,” said Han grimly. He pulled out the rifle and cocked it. “Now you ride on ahead of me and I tell you now that if there is any shooting, you at least will be the first to die with a bullet in your back.”

They moved forward slowly and then of a sudden, the rider trotted forth, at which point Han halted and raised the rifle to his shoulder.

“Hidy,” said Betty. “I figured that you would not really mind me coming along. I will be no trouble and have brought a picnic of my own.”

Han was stumped for words adequate to the situation. All those he first came up with were curse-words and he was too much of a gentleman to utter them in the presence of a lady. While he was struggling to express his feelings, Jed Holt chimed in, saying, “Why hallo, young lady. It will be nice to have some female company on this trip. This young fellow is pleasant enough, but he does not talk much. You will act on me like a regular tonic.”

“Shut up, Holt,” said Han roughly. “Betty, it is not to be thought of. You must go back to town.”

“Not a bit of it, Betty,” said Holt, “You will brighten up our day considerable.”

Han rode up behind the other man and jabbed him in the back with his rifle. “I said keep quiet. Betty, you must go back. This man would kill the two of us as soon as look at us. I am taking him to Hopetown only to see if they have some case against him. Then I am going home.”

Betty’s pretty but weak face took on an expression of mulish obstinacy. “You can’t make me go back. I will just ride along with you. You won’t even know I am here.”

Holt was chuckling to himself. “This is surely the strangest journey of this sort which I could have imagined. Being sent to my death in the company of two young people who are no more than children. It is not how I ever saw my career as ending.”

“Never mind your career,” said Han, “It is your life which will end shortly if you do not remain silent. Betty, please go back.”

“I will not.” she said.

“All right, Holt. Trot on.”

The three of them set off like this. In the lead was Jed Holt and following him at a little distance was Han. Behind the two of them rode Betty. There was nothing that he could really do to prevent the girl from following them, but Han figured that if he just ignored her, she might lose interest and go away. She was not of that stamp though, being quite indifferent to being snubbed in this wise. After they had been riding along the track for a while, she began to chatter in her usual, inconsequential way.

“It is a lovely day. Han, you have not yet told me your friend’s name.”

“He is not my friend. This man killed my parents.”

“Well he must still have a name. What is it?”

Holt called back to her, “I am Jed Holt and I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”

“My, ain’t you got fancy manners! Han, can I ride next to Mr Holt? I would like to chat a little to him.”

“Are you out of your mind? He is a killer. One mistake and he will get free and kill us both.”

“Surely that cannot be true. Mr Holt, would you really kill us if you got the chance?”

“Me kill a charming young girl like you? I tell you straight, I am what you might term a misunderstood man. Your friend there, he says many hard things of me, but half of them are not true. I never yet killed anybody except in self-defence.”

It was plain as a pikestaff to Han that Holt was sweetening up the foolish girl for some purpose. Most likely, he hoped to sow dissention between him and Betty and then somehow exploit this to make a move towards escaping. Short of gagging the man, there was little that he could do to stop this. Holt knew as well as he did himself that all his threats to shoot a helpless man who had his hands fastened together were meaningless.

Holt said to him, “Listen, Han or whatever your name is, how come you were raised by those old people?”

“It does not signify,” said Han, “It is nothing to the purpose to talk of it.”

“Come on boy, there must be a fine story there. It will pass the time.”

“Do you think that I will tell you the story of my first family’s murder just to entertain you for a while? You are mistaken.”

“Was it the Sand Creek Massacre?” enquired Holt shrewdly. That is only just down the way from that old couple’s place. Going by that headband of yours, I would say that you are Cheyenne. Am I right?”

“You talk more than the girl. I have no wish to say anything of this.”

“It is as I thought,” said Holt, “your real parents were killed at Sand Creek. I thought so.

Han knew that Jed Holt was trying to goad him, but he could not hear his parents talked of in this way by this man. He said to Holt, “You keep my parents out of your goddamned mouth, you hear what I tell you now? Otherwise, I will take you up on the suggestion you made to me last night.”

Holt gave a short, barking laugh. “Well boy, I recokon that offer’s off the table. After all, you got a witness now. You think that girl could be got to keep quiet about it if you shot me now? I do not think so.”

They rode along in silence for a while, even Betty not wishing to speak. Truth to tell, she was beginning to wonder if this had been the best idea that she had ever had. She was not a perfect fool and it was becoming obvious to her that there was going to be some species of friction between Han and his prisoner. “Han,” she said in a quiet voice, “Do you think I should turn back?”

“Do what you will,” he said, “ I have no more use for you than I do for him.” indicating Holt.

The three of them kept going for another hour or so, with none of them speaking. Then Holt said, “When you grabbed ahold of me in the saloon the other night, I thought you was a man. It is some good long while since any man has dared to lay hands on me. But all your talk about not wishing to shoot me and so on is just a way of saying that you are yellow. You did not pull the trigger because you were afeared to do it.”

Han did not reply. He could feel rage bubbling up within him and was hoping to hold it back. Being like this in the close proximity of the man who had helped kill his Ma and Pa was proving a sorer trial than he would have thought. It was perhaps not altogether a bad thing that Betty had come along. If it was not for her being there, he might well get into a killing rage.

“Betty,” he said, “I am sorry for being rough to you. There was no call for me to do so. I hope I have not upset you?”

The girl smiled at him gratefully. He was ashamed to see that she had been crying and he had not even noticed. She was perhaps not quite as tough as she made out. “I’m sorry about your family,” she said, “It must be right hard to lose not one set of parents, but two. I know, because like I told you, I lost my own family when I was little.”

“It is a hard row to hoe.” said Han.

They stopped after noon to eat and drink. Han insisted that Holt sat a distance from he and Betty, saying that being close to Holt took away his appetite and made him feel nauseous. After a short rest, they set off again. Holt was not that talkative himself now and just plodded along a little ahead of the other two. Han and Betty chatted in a desultory way. Once the girl dropped her act and behaved as her real self, Han found her tolerable good company. He was not sorry now that she had forced her way into the business and thought that it would have been grim enough if it had just been he and Holt by their own selves.

The little party continued with only a few brief stops until it was getting on for dusk. They were close to a little wood and Han said that they would tie up the horses there and make camp for the night. He kept a watch on Jed Holt and got Betty to gather up some wood for a fire. Again, he got Holt to set a way from them.

There could not be the least question of he and Betty both sleeping. The murderous rogue would be on them in the night and it would likely prove the death of them. Han said, “I do not aim to sleep tonight. Betty, you sleep over there aways behind me and you Holt just lay where you are. I shall sit here with the rifle and before God, if you move a foot from that place, I shall shoot you.”

“I do not think that you will be able to remain awake all night.” said Holt.

“I tell you straight, I do not care what you think on it. Just be sure that I will have this rifle pointing in your direction until dawn. If you wish to try your luck, then see what results. Do not blame me for the consequence though, it will be upon your own head.”

Betty did not show any inclination to sleep and instead sat and talked to Han. She told him of her life on the farm, which for all her complaining and talk of being made to work like a slave, did not sound a whole heap different from his own childhood and youth. Betty bemoaned the fact that she seldom got to go into town, but he had been with the Jacksons almost a year before they took him to visit the nearest town. It was just how things were in that corner of the territory, there were few towns and mainly just scattered farms and homesteads.

“Do you ever think of your real parents?” said Betty.

“You mean my Cheyenne parents? Yes, I remember them, particular my mother. I was about eight, I suppose when they were killed.”

“Who killed them?”

“Soldiers. It was near the end of the war.”

“What sort of soldiers?”

“Bluecoats, cavalry. They came to our village and killed everybody.”

“What, women and children too?”

“It was almost all women and children. They killed everyone. There were some survivors, but the next day, the soldier in charge had them killed as well, so that there would be no witnesses remaining. I was the only one out of the whole village that was not killed.”

“ Jeez. I thought I had it hard and my parents just died of the cholera. Did you see your Ma die?”

“I did. A soldier cut her down with his sabre. He nearly took off her head.”

Betty looked sick. She said, “I am sorry. I did not know.”

“There is no reason why you should have.”

“Are you really going to sit here all night watching that man?” asked Betty.

“I don’t see that I have another choice. If I close my eyes, he is apt to try and escape, probably killing us while doing so.”

“In that case, I think I shall sleep now. You will be all right just sitting here like this?”

Han smiled at her, the first time that he had done so properly since they had met. The effect was extraordinary; lighting up his whole face and making him look to the girl like a different person. He said, “I am an Indian. It is what we Indians do best of all, just sitting like statues and not moving.”

Betty did something which surprised the both of them. She leaned over without warning and kissed him on the cheek. Then she scuttled away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but concealed by the darkness.

Sitting there, cradling the rifle in his arms, Han thought about Betty. She was irritating, it was true, but once you got to know her better, she was not bad company. The fire was dying down now, but it was not that cold and Han didn’t feel inclined to take his eyes off Holt and go wandering round looking for more wood. Jed Holt was laying down, but Han could see his eyes glinting, so he was not yet asleep. Laying there with those sharp, mean little eyes, he put Han in mind of a rattlesnake

It was a long night. Han’s eyes did not close once. Every time he looked closely at Holt, he could just about make out that his eyes were not closed either. It was a fair bet that the man was laying there hoping for a chance to get free. Having Betty sleeping a few yeards away helped Han to remain awake, too. It was not just for his own sake, but also for the girl’s that he had to set watch over the killer. If he once gained the upper hand or got ahold of a gun, there could be little doubt that Holt would kill Betty as well as Han.

The three of them had a meagre breakfast, consisting mainly of the scraps and remains of the previous night’s meal. Han rekindled the fire and they brewed coffee after they had eaten. Both Jed Holt and Han looked tired and in bad moods. Betty, who was the only one of them who had got any sleep that night was perky and gay. “Do you think we’ll reach Hopetown today” she asked brightly, while they were drinking their coffee.

“I think so,” said Han. “By my reckoning, we should be only twenty miles or so from it. What do you think?” He turned to Holt. The older man just shrugged and did not reply. Han could not really blame him. Holt’s prospects were not very good once he had reached town. Pete McGuire had said that it was certain-sure that warrants were out naming both the Holt brothers in connection with crimes that were hanging matters.

Han and Betty tidied up the area where they had been camping and then they all mounted up. Han had observed that Holt did not seem to have any real and natural emotions, but just switched different manners on as he saw that they would serve him. When he had suspected that he could win the girl round to his side against Han, he had been courtly and charming, but now that he knew that there was nothing to be gained by this, he had dropped it completely. He ignored Betty entirely this morning. It was the same with the way that he was with Han. He had been agreeable yesterday when he could see a percentage in it, but now he made no effort at all to be in the least bit pleasant.

The sky had clouded over and there was a hint of a chill in the air. Hand was thinking that he would not be at all sorry to get indoors when they reached Hopetown. He had enough left for a couple of nights in a boarding house and then he was going to get back to his parents’ house. He supposed that he would have to run the farm alone, now that they were dead.

Without any warning, Holt reined in his horse and said, “ This is as far as I go.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Han.

“Just what I say. I am going no further.” Holt then proceeded to get off his horse and sit on the ground. Now if he had bolted, then Han might, just might, have been able to fire at him. He plain could not shoot a man who was just sitting there on the ground, grinning up at him.

“Holt, you stop this foolishness. You know we are going on to Hopetown today.”

“You go right ahead. I ain’t coming.”

Han sat there for a few seconds, trying to come up with the best plan. He decided that a good start would be to get down off his own horse and pick up his rifle. He had no clear idea of what he might be going to do after that, but at least it was a beginning. Holt was sitting there on his left, about twenty foot from him. As Han dismounted, he had his back to the man for a second and this was time enough for Jed Holt to spring to his feet, run over to Betty and grab ahold of her leg. She screamed in surprise and by the time that Han was off the horse and had his rifle in his hands ready to fire, Holt had managed to drag the girl off her pony. He whirled her round and tried to get his hands round her throat, Crying,”You come nigh to us boy and I am going to choke the life out of this little bitch!”

That leastways was his plan, although he had not taken into account that Betty, like Han, had grown up on a farm and was pretty lithe and muscular in her own way. Perhaps Holt had been misled by her simpering and giggling, but as his hands scrabbled for her neck, the girl jabbed him in the belly hard, with her elbow. He cursed and lunged forward, trying to use his weight against her. She half turned and raked her fingernails down the side of his face. As she did so, Han came up to the pair of them, reversed his rifle and slammed the butt into the side of Jed Holt’s head. It is only in books that such an action will end with the person served so, promptly keeling over in a faint. The pain only enraged Holt all the more and he made another grab at Betty. Han had to crack him on the skull another couple of times before he lay still; whether dead or merely unconscious, Han neither knew nor cared.