Chapter 10

  Winter Sets In

  In apprehensive wonder, we saw that boundless sea of fire sweep over the prairie. The flames leapt closer and closer, dark clouds rose up and rolled slowly over the burning grass. Leaves, shrubs, grass – everything had gone, nothing remained but an appalling blackness.

  -Herman Ehrenberg

  The Alamo-Late December, 1835

  Tasked with the never-ending chore of improving fortifications, Hawk was surprised when word came that Captain Seguin wanted to see him. Accordingly, He put his pick axe aside and headed to the commandant’s quarters, whereupon he found Captain Seguin in the company of Colonel Neill.

  On seeing Hawk, Colonel Neill announced, “Lieutenant Banks – good! Please, come in Hawk, we were just discussing a matter of some importance to the army.”

  Taking a seat, Hawk responded, “Yes, sir, what can I do for you, Colonel?”

  “Well, sir, we have some challenges here at Bexar, as I’m sure you know, Mr. Banks. Food is running low, and morale ain’t much better. But what’s got me worried the most is the paltry number of troops we will have here when Grant and Johnson head out for Matamoros. We’ll be down to less than a hundred men. General Cos surrendered to us with nearly a thousand well-trained troops. So I expect it is unlikely that we can defend the Alamo against a Mexican force of significant size. Captain Seguin here is well connected to the Tejanos in south Texas, as I’m sure you know, and he tells me that the rumors are circulating that the Army of Mexico is concentrating in mass along the Rio Grande as we speak. I don’t need to tell you, sir, that if these rumors are true, we will be in desperate need of reinforcements much sooner than we had previously anticipated.”

  Contemplating this revelation, Hawk stroked his chin in thought. Though he could see where this line of conversation was going, he thought it best to remain silent for the moment.

  Seeing that Hawk was not inclined to reply, Colonel Neill continued, “Well, sir, Captain Seguin here thinks that you are just the man to head on up to Bastrop in search of reinforcements. Would that be something that we could entrust to you, sir?”

  Hawk was not a man to shirk his duty, but he was distracted by the attachment that he had begun to feel for Señora Perez. The truth was, he was in no mood to leave San Antonio at the moment. He therefore replied noncommittally, “Well, sir, I was just wondering why you think that I might be the right person for such a mission?”

  Neill, who could sense the reticence in Hawk’s response, was prepared for this possibility. He responded, “Well, it’s right insightful of you to ask, sir. Captain Seguin and I have just been discussing that point. Here is the thing - Captain Seguin could do this job, but he must be heading east to Goliad in search of volunteers. So we need a second person, and as you have served in the Texas Rangers, Juan here thinks that you could be helpful in attracting volunteers to our cause. Captain Seguin has another reason for suggesting you. Juan, could you be telling Hawk here what that reason is?”

  At this Seguin cleared his throat and, uncertain as to exactly how to begin, he commenced with, “Señor Halcón, er, Hawk, I have a delicate matter that I would like to ask your help with. It seems that Señora Perez has been somewhat mistreated since the end of hostilities here in Bexar. As I am sure you are aware, many of the volunteers are newcomers to Texas and they have been known to treat all Tejanos as if they were the enemy. I myself have experienced such treatment on a few occasions, but I can take care of myself.

  “Señora Perez is also perfectly capable of taking care of herself, as I am sure you are aware, but she is concerned for her daughter, Teresa. She would like to remove her to a place of safety until hostilities have ended. I have discussed this with her, and it is our mutual view that the best place for her to go at this time is Bastrop.

  “She begged me to take her and her daughter there, but I am needed elsewhere. You, on the other hand, are not, and as you have worked with Señora Perez on other delicate matters, she is willing to be escorted to Bastrop in your company. We are therefore in need of your help for this mission for two important reasons.”

  Hawk had not anticipated this at all. He took to scratching his chin again, and, as was his nature when he was baffled, he hawked and spat.

  At this, Seguin could only chuckle.

  Hawk eyed Seguin suspiciously and inquired, “What’re you laughing for, Captain?”

  “I am sorry, Hawk. I meant no offense. It is just that I have observed that whenever you spit, you can be counted on to eventually agree, no matter what the issue.”

  Having been completely unaware of his own tendency, Hawk grumbled, “Well, I’ll be. If that don’t beat all,” and, having been on the verge of hawking yet again, he now resisted the temptation mightily. Instead, he continued sheepishly, “Well, I must admit, you have me there, sir, since I confess - that is exactly what I was about to do.”

  Colonel Neill, who was by now lost within the conversation, suddenly put in, “To do exactly what, sir?”

  Smiling compliantly, Hawk proffered, “Why, to agree, sir. I was about to agree to take on this assignment.”

  “Well, that is excellent, if I do say so myself. Well, then, alright,” Colonel Neill continued but, not knowing exactly what to say next, he fell silent. Recovering his senses, he commanded, “Alright, Lieutenant Banks, your official orders are to go to Bastrop in search of volunteer reinforcements, and to transport Señora Perez and her daughter with you.”

  “Sir, there is one other thing,” Hawk replied.

  “Yes, sir. And what might that be?”

  “Well, sir, these are indeed dangerous times. It is not safe traveling out on the plains in Texas just now, as I am sure I do not have to say. Would it be possible for me to take one other man with me, sir?”

  Neill reflected for a moment and suggested, “I believe that we could spare one man, sir. Did you have someone in mind?”

  “Yes, sir. I would like to take Hank MacElrae with me if that is alright with you. Hank is from Bastrop, and since he knows most of the folks there, he may be of use in recruiting.”

  “Seems a good choice. Can we count on Mr. MacElrae to return here with you in due course, sir? As you know, quite a few of the volunteers have wandered off and failed to return.”

  Hawk responded agreeably, “Sir, you have my word that Hank will come back with me.”

  Captain Neill Posited, “Good, then that is settled. Hank is hereby assigned to accompany you on your mission to Bastrop. Would it be possible for you to leave tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, sir. We will be off at first light,” and with that Hawk departed to prepare for his mission.

  The Following Morning

  Hank was so excited he almost forgot to saddle his horse. He was going home! He figured he’d be seeing Julie, and little Auggey, too. All in all, it was almost too much for him to get his mind around. As they rode out past the gates of the Alamo, the sun was rising off to the southeast, and if anyone had been up at that hour, they would have seen Hank parading the broadest grin he’d mustered in months. And trailing along behind were Hawk, Señora Perez, and the diminutive Teresa.

  Hank thought the little girl was too young to ride a horse, but he turned out to be wrong about that. That little girl could ride, and she somehow kept up with Hawk better than he did. And Señora Perez, she was just a sight to see. She wore a long riding skirt, a white ruffled blouse and a short Mexican style overcoat, together with a pair of truly impressive riding boots. It was all topped off by a black Tejano style riding hat that made her appear absolutely regal. Hank was forced to admit that she was a fine-looking woman, one even to rival his own Julie.

  Hank had a chance to glance back over his shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of her silhouetted from behind by the morning sunshine. Dang if she didn’t look just like an angel. After all, she was named after a saint.

  They travelled at a dizzyingly brisk pace, so much
so that at times Hank had troubles keeping up. It was a fine day for wintertime, and that certainly helped Hank to maintain his upbeat frame of mind throughout the day.

  By mid-afternoon they had crossed the Guadalupe River. Off to the west could be seen the great escarpment that seemed to rise up out of the plains. Out there beyond was nothing but a whole lot of hill country, a no-man’s land where Texians were warned not to go. But up close to those hills the river ran clean and clear, a welcome change from the muddy rivers that flowed in East Texas.

  They made it a good third of the way to Bastrop with no trouble at all, and that night they camped in a beautiful setting next to a creek, ringed by large oak trees. The stars were out in a cloudless sky, and the Milky Way was clearly visible for all to see.

  The following morning they awakened to a north wind and low rushing clouds. The temperature had already dropped some twenty degrees, and it was apparent that a frigid rain would soon be upon them.

  Hawk was bridling Achilles when Hank rushed up beside him, offering pointedly, “Don’t look too good today, I reckon.”

  “My thought precisely, Hank. We’d best be getting on up the trail as quick as possible. Perhaps we can find us some shelter before the rain is upon us. This kind of norther can last for two or three days this time of year. We could get wet and cold, and I don’t need to tell you - that’s a dangerous mix out here on the open prairie.”

  “Any towns around about that you know of, Hawk?”

  “None that I am aware of,” Hawk responded.

  At this point Antonia rushed over and, having guessed the gist of the conversation, she exclaimed abruptly, “I know this area, Señor Halcón. There are no towns, but Captain Seguin’s ranch is not more than an hour’s ride east of here. I’ve been there several times, and it is well equipped. There will also be several Tejanos working the ranch at this time of year. We should make for there as quickly as possible.”

  Hawk responded grimly, “Right, Señora. Let’s get moving right away.”

  Hank was nonplussed by this ‘Señor’ and ‘Señora’ formality. Everybody back in Bexar figured that something was going on between these two, but he saw no point in belaboring the absurdity of such terminology, especially in the midst of an approaching storm. He had more important problems to deal with, and he figured it wouldn’t be long before they grew considerably more challenging.

  They rode out quickly, striking a pace that made that of the previous day feel to Hank like a picnic stroll. He figured at the rate they were going they’d make Seguin’s place in no more than an hour. But that was not to be. Within minutes, enormous raindrops began pelting them ferociously, the north wind driving them in near-horizontal torrents. To make matters worse, the temperature continued to drop rapidly.

  Hank figured it couldn’t be much above freezing by now. A tad colder, and this nasty rain would turn to snow. That would be better than this chilling rain, but if it turned to freezing rain, that most assuredly be life-threatening. Within minutes that is exactly what happened – it turned to a mixture of snow and freezing rain, and by then the wind was blowing so hard that little Teresa lost her hat.

  They spent what seemed an eternity trying to find that hat, the snow by then assaulting them so furiously that visibility shrank to nil. But they had to find that hat. Being caught without a hat in this sort of weather was really dangerous. In the event they found the hat and, halting beneath a copse of trees, they regrouped to reconnoiter.

  By now Hank had to yell to be heard from five feet away. “Hawk!” He shouted, and then again, “Hawk!”

  Turning in his saddle, Hawk screamed, “What! What do you want?”

  “I can’t see a damn thing! The snow and ice are blinding me, hittin’ me square in the eyeballs. Maybe we should stop here!”

  His mustache by now snow white, Hawk spat, then turned to the Señora and yelled, “Antonia, what do you think? How far is it?”

  “Hawk, we’re close, I can tell! I recognize these trees. It’s not far,” she screamed, “We can’t stay here! We’ll die!”

  “Agreed! Which way?” Hawk yelled in return.

  “That way!” Antonia pointed. Hank could barely hear her say, “Listen, there’s a fence right here somewhere. You grab Teresa’s reins and make sure you hold on tight! Follow me, and if I can find that fence, we’ll survive. Follow me!”

  All four set out, staying as close to one another as possible. Within seconds Antonia rode directly into a fence, whereupon her horse halted as if uncertain what to do next.

  “This is it!” Antonia yelled out. “Follow me!” She turned her horse straight into the teeth of the storm and, following the fence line, she rode out of sight. Hawk tugged the reins of Teresa’s horse in frantic pursuit, with Hank taking up the rear.

  Within moments, the horses lugged them directly to an enormous house. They hurriedly dismounted and staggered within. There were several people in the house, all shocked to see these white apparitions come stumbling into the house in the middle of such a dangerous storm.

  Utterly amazed at this sudden intrusion, a middle-aged man blurted, “Señora Perez!”

  Embracing him gratefully, Antonia exclaimed, “Luis, thank God!”

  “What in the name of heaven are you doing out in such a storm, Señora?” Luis inquired fearfully.

  “I will explain that later, Luis. First we must get Teresa warm. Please! Get her some warm clothes and stoke the fire. She is freezing!”

  Immediately setting about the task at hand, he replied, “Si, Señora!”

  Hank turned to Hawk and exclaimed, “That was weird, positively weird. We couldn’ve been more’n a hundred yards from this house, and I would not have been able to find it if I’d had a rope tied directly to the front door! I ask you, how’d she do that?”

  “I do not know, sir, but I am damn sure glad she did,” Hawk muttered.

  “Well, that Señora doubtless has a really fine connection with the Good Lord, I’m thinking,” Hank submitted.

  “Wouldn’t doubt it, sir. Wouldn’t doubt it at all,” Hawk replied in agreement. “We’d best get the horses to the barn, I reckon, or they’ll die out there.”

  “The barn! What barn?” answered Hank. “You couldn’t prove by me that there’s a barn out there. Sure ain’t no way to see it from here! Heck, it could’ve blown halfway to Tampico by now in this storm!”

  Overhearing their conversation, Antonia interrupted, “Luis, please ask Roberto to get the horses into the barn, quickly!”

  “Si, Señora,” and off went Luis.

  Antonia was by now wrapping Teresa in a serape and a blanket that Luis had given her, and although Teresa looked cold, she seemed to be responding well.

  The immediate danger was over - they had found shelter from the storm. Now they needed only to ride it out.

  The Following Morning

  Hank awoke to a gray and windy dawn, but the sleet, snow, and freezing rain had thankfully ended. Despite this, it didn’t take a genius to see that travel was out of the question. Finding his way to the kitchen, Hank found Hawk in heated conversation with Antonia.

  “I don’t care how sick she is, Antonia,” Hawk exclaimed gruffly, “We can’t risk taking her out on the prairie in conditions like this!” Apparently, Teresa had developed a rasping cough during the night.

  Antonia glared at him and, eyes flashing menacingly, she shot back belligerently, “She is not your child, Señor! Otherwise you would view the situation differently.”

  It was clear to Hank that Hawk was hurt by this statement, but he said nothing. There was no winning with Señora Perez in her current state.

  As if sensing his reticence, she submitted fearfully, “What if it’s pneumonia, Hawk? What then? She needs a doctor, and she needs one before things get worse!”

  “Just give it a few hours, Señora,” he replied fretfully, and it was obvious by his tone that even the self-assured H
awk Banks was intimidated by this strong-willed woman.

  For her part, she placed her hands on her hips and glared silently at him.

  At this daunting display, Hawk suggested half-heartedly, “By afternoon perhaps both the weather and Teresa will be in better shape for us to travel.”

  “We shall see, Señor Halcón. We shall see,” she responded sternly.

  And so they waited. Hank did not like being cooped up in a house on the prairie in the middle of the winter with these two. He could only compare it to being confined in a cage with a coyote and a rattle snake. Sooner or later – something was bound to happen - and Hank was pretty certain that it would not be pretty when it did.

  Around mid-afternoon, the sun broke through the clouds. After that there was no stopping Antonia. Hank could hear her arguing with Hawk in the next room. Finally, Hawk came through the door with a dejected look on his face and muttered, “Come on, Hank. Let’s get things ready to go. We’re heading out for Bastrop.”

  Hank felt like saying something to the effect that this was insane, sick child or no, but he could see that there was no winning this confrontation. Where women were concerned, Hank had enough experience to know that if there was a child in the bargain, employing logic was a lost cause. Instead, he simply nodded and headed out to the barn to saddle up the horses in preparation of their imminent departure.

  Within a half hour they were in the saddle. It was still quite cold, but the wind had died down, and the sunlight had begun to melt the snow and ice. It was actually a beautiful winter scene to Hank’s way of thinking, but that still didn’t make it appropriate for travel.

  On the bright side, Teresa was bundled up nicely, and she appeared to be faring much better than she had during the previous night. They quickly progressed northeast, but they didn’t make it more than ten miles before nightfall overtook them and they were forced to make camp for the night.

  As they dismounted, Hawk indicated to Hank that he should gather some firewood, and for some reason Hawk immediately rode off to the northwest. Hank had no clue what Hawk was doing. He could only assume that Hawk had some personal business to take care of.

  Hank set about preparing camp for the evening while Antonia tended to Teresa, attempting to make the child comfortable and warm for the cold night ahead. A half hour later, Hawk raced into camp at full speed, jumped from his horse and screamed breathlessly, “Everybody, get your horses ready! We have to ride out of here immediately! There’s Indians out there, and we have to find cover or we’re all dead!”

  Hearing this, Hank sprinted for his horse. Grabbing Teresa, Antonia was right behind him. Hawk swept up as much of the camp gear possible, and all four were in their saddles within seconds. Following Hawk’s lead, they raced east at a dead run.

  Tinges of evening light still lacing the sky, Hank could just make out the outline of a bluff off to the east. Pulling alongside Hawk, he screamed, “Where we headed, too, Hawk?”

  “Looks like a bluff, or a cliff, off there to the east, Hank. I think it’s the San Marcos River. The Ranger map says it’s around here somewhere. We have to find cover. We need protection, or we’ll be dead before morning. Just keep riding! Stay close, and don’t let those two out of your sight!”

  They rode full speed for as long as the horses could take it. Fortunately, they came to a steep bank, and below it a small river. On the other side of the creek there was a cliff, carved from sandstone by thousands of years of flowing water. At the base of the cliff there were some enormous boulders adjacent to the far bank. Seeing them, Hawk rode his horse directly into the freezing water and signaled the others to follow.

  He rode right up to the far bank, jumped from his horse, and shot the exhausted creature on the spot. The horse went down an arm’s length from the rocks on the far bank, Hawk motioning the others to follow. Hank was first. When he reached the far bank Hawk grabbed his horse’s reins and motioned to Hank to dismount. He abruptly tugged the horse over to where the other one had fallen and shot it as well.

  No longer in any doubt whatsoever as to the prowess of his amazing companion, Hank recognized immediately exactly what he was about. Antonia and Teresa followed. Hawk performed the same feat with their horses, and by the time he had finished shooting them he had constructed a small fortress composed of dead horses. He then grabbed the largest boulders he could find and, tossing them into a pile at one end, he quickly completed an entirely unnatural line of defense.

  As he did so Hawk commanded, “Get all the food off those horses! Pull it behind this here mound! Get the blankets! And keep your heads down! They’ll be on us any second!”

  Hank was exhausted just listening to Hawk, but under the circumstances he found the gumption to perform his assigned duties.

  For her part, Antonia simply collapsed within the tiny fortress and inquired to no one in particular, “Does he know what he’s doing?”

  At this Hank blurted, “Ma’am, I mean, Señora, I ain’t in no position to disagree with him, no matter whether he knows what he’s doing or not. I seen him in action with Indians before, and I’d sooner be with Hawk Banks in this here situation than any other man alive!”

  Observing it all, Antonia held Teresa tightly, smirking incongruously. Their defenses now completed, she exclaimed, “Damn fool shot the horses! And for what, I don’t see any Indians! Now we’re out here in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting to Bastrop! Why did you shoot the horses, Señor?”

  “I should think that was obvious, Señora,” Hawk retorted, “Those Indians are after horses most of all. Killing our mounts makes us much less appealing, and using them for a barrier is standard planning in the Texas Rangers.”

  “See? I told you so!” Hank posited triumphantly.

  “Shut up!” Hawk ordered, “I hear something. Be quiet!”

  The four immediately became dead silent. They listened. The sky had cleared, and a full moon was rising. There was not a single sound to be heard anywhere.

  Eventually, unable to stand it longer, Antonia whispered doubtfully, “I don’t hear anything at all!”

  “Ssshhh!” Hawk spat back. The minutes ticking slowly by, they waited for what seemed an eternity.

  Abruptly, there erupted the wail of a solitary coyote from off in the distance. All else was silent. Then the wail of a second coyote was heard, this time from an entirely different direction.

  “That’s them,” Hawk whispered.

  “That’s who?” Antonia queried.

  “Indians,” Hank said softly. “Those aren’t coyotes. They’re Indians – Comanches.”

  Suddenly, an arrow zinged in from, sounding a dull whump as it struck one of the dead horses. Then another arrow whizzed in, this one striking harmlessly off the rocks above.

  “What’re they up to, Hawk?” Hank inquired naively.

  “They’re just informing us that they have us surrounded,” Hawk replied matter-of-factly.

  “How many are there?”

  “I counted six, but there may actually be more than that.”

  “Oh, my God! Six of ‘em. This don’t look good to me,” Hank blurted miserably.

  “I’m in agreement with you there, Hank, my man,” Hawk muttered, “But we’ve been through worse, and we’re still alive. Right now we just got to get through this night, I’d say. And if we do, we’ll see how things shape up tomorrow.”

  That night was the longest of Hank’s entire life. First the Indians tried pushing rocks down the rock face, but it was too steep, causing them to bounce off the cliff walls and bound into the creek. Next they tried shooting at the four, but Hawk had them quite well protected with the tiny fortress he had built. Still later, they attempted to burn them out, but the weather had made everything too cold and wet along the river bank. In the end, the sun rose the following morning without a single projectile having reached its intended mark.

  As so often occurs a couple of da
ys after a bad winter storm on the prairie, the day warmed quickly, but that was the only good news. It appeared to Hank that the Indians had decided to lay siege to them. They were just going to wait them out, starving them until they gave up or became too weak to fight. God only knew what their fate would be when that happened.

  Time dragged out interminably, morning eventually giving way to afternoon. By then Hank had grown grumpy from hunger. Their slim supply of food hadn’t gone very far, quite a bit having been lost in the creek when the horses had gone down.

  But then a curious thing happened - one of the Indians appeared on the opposite bank of the creek. He was carrying a white flag. Hank thought this was curious indeed.

  The Indian called out, “Hawk-who-spits! We know you! We make deal. We give you very good deal. You give us child, we go away. Very good deal for you. What you think, Hawk-who-spits?”

  “What the,” Hank said. “How do they know you, Hawk?”

  “I can only think of one way - Buffalo Hump must be with them. And if he is, we’re in big trouble.”

  At that moment, Antonia grabbed Hawk’s rifle and fired at the Indian. She missed, and the Indian scampered back up the bank and out of sight. A muffled voice emanated from the bushes, calling, “You think on deal, Hawk-who-spits. You think! You give answer by sunset! If no answer, we kill you this night, and we take both - woman and child! You think, Hawk-who-spits!”

  “Son of a bitch!” Hawk blurted caustically and, shaking his head in fury, he stared at the spot where the Indian had disappeared.

  Antonia now rose up and screamed, “Damn their souls!” at which an arrow came flying in, missing her by inches. She ducked down quickly, but continued yelling, “I’ll kill them all!”

  Without thinking, Hank said, “You and who, Señora? That’s all I’d like to know!”

  Antonia slapped him so hard his ears rang.

  Recalling that the same thing had happened to him, Hawk grabbed her hand before she had time to strike Hank a second time. “Stop it!” he said. “Save it for those heathens, Antonia! Save it!”

  Antonia collapsed in sobs, but she continued staring defiantly at the opposite bank, as if looks could kill.

  For a moment, Hank wasn’t sure who he was more afraid of - the Indians - or her.

  As neither alternative proposed by their attackers was palatable, Hawk spent the remainder of the day preparing for the inevitable nocturnal attack. While Hank had supposed that the simplest thing for the Indians to do was to wait, Hawk reasoned that they would not do so. Comanches had a strange code of conduct, and Buffalo Hump, if he was indeed accompanying the group that attacked them, had one of the strangest codes of all.

  Hawk had encountered him before, and he was relatively certain that Buffalo Hump would egg his fellow braves on, driving them to demonstrate their bravery, while he would sit back observing their antics. Buffalo Hump was truly sinister, of that Hawk was certain. Thinking on this, Hawk contemplated how he would respond if his manhood were questioned by Buffalo Hump, and that was when he hit on a defensive strategy that he hoped might do the trick.

  When night fell, the moon was nowhere to be found. A band of clouds had appeared, thereby reducing visibility considerably from the previous night. At this point Hawk pulled Hank aside and discussed strategy with him. “Look here, Hank. It appears that Antonia will be of little use here. She’s lost sight of herself. She is more than likely terrified of the possibility of falling into the hands of the heathens.

  “So here is what I need for you to do. You take these two rifles here and you make sure she doesn’t get her hands on either one. Keep your knife ready, and don’t let her touch it either. If she gets to thinking we’re not winning, she’s entirely capable of killing both herself and the child, I reckon. Now, I also carved this stick to a sharp point. You keep it handy. All totaled, you have four weapons. You can kill four of them if your timing is right.”

  “What the crap are you talkin’ ‘bout, Hawk? Me? Kill four Comanches? Are you out of your mind? I doubt I could kill even one of them red-skinned devils! And where are you gonna be during all of this killin’ I’m supposed to be doin’, that there is what I’d like to know!”

  “Ssshhh! You’re speaking too loud, they’ll be hearing what you’re saying, you darn fool,” Hawk whispered back.

  Still awaiting an answer, Hank responded, “Well?”

  “I’m going to crawl up on that ledge about twelve feet up there above us. You see that? It’s not more than two feet wide, but it’s just right for me to get the jump on them, I reckon.”

  All Hank could think of to ask was, “How the heck you gonna get up there?” Never mind whether it made any strategic sense.

  “You leave that to me,” Hawk replied, “I’ll get up there.”

  “But won’t they see you?”

  “I doubt that. First thing is, they’re most likely drinking as we speak. They’re obliged to do their dancing and drinking to get up their courage. They’ll be doing that at this moment. And they won’t see me because we got lucky and it’s clouded up tonight. So I’ll be perched up there, and if they come running at us, most likely from that direction over yonder, we’ll get the drop on ‘em for sure. Got it?”

  “Right, I’m beginning to see it all now, sir. You got it into your head that this here is a turkey shoot, Mr. Hawk Banks. Well, if that don’t beat all! Only thing I’m wondering is, which ones is the turkeys - them or us?”

  “We shall see, soon enough. We shall see,” was all the response that Hank received, and at that, Hawk crawled off into the brush and started inching his way up the face of the cliff.

  It wasn’t until Hawk had disappeared that Hank realized Hawk had only one rifle with him. Hank wanted to go after him and ask him how in tarnation they were going to kill six Indians with three rifles between them. Surely he didn’t think that Hank could really pick off four of them, armed with two rifles, a knife and a piece of wood! Five hours later, Hank was still pondering that issue when he drifted off to sleep.

  He dreamed that he was in hand-to-hand combat with a giant snake, which was pretty interesting, seeing as how snakes had no hands. Anyway, just as he was about to valiantly strike the snake’s head off with his magic sword, a pebble struck him right in the throat and knocked him clean awake. Because he was lying face up, he could see Hawk’s ornery face staring down at him from the ledge.

  Since Hawk wasn’t moving an inch, Hank sensed that something serious was about to unfold. So he rolled over, stared across the creek, and raised his rifle just in time to see an apparition rise up directly before him. Without thinking, he fired and, striking the Indian squarely in the chest, the heathen fell directly on top of Hank. He was suddenly unable to move, having been rendered completely immobile by the corpse sprawled across him.

  The second Indian came directly behind the first, but this one was struck on the head by a massive rock which killed him instantly. The third Indian raised his rifle, aiming to shoot Hank when he, too was, struck in the head by a massive rock. The fourth Indian now raced forward, and his rifle raised, he aimed as if to shoot Hank right between the eyes. Hank could tell that he was too far away for Hawk to get him with a big rock, so he closed his eyes and awaited the inevitable feel of bullet striking bone, but when the shot went off he felt nothing. Opening his eyes, he saw that the Indian had been shot by Hawk from the ledge above. Hawk then leaped from the ledge and shot the fifth Indian with Hank’s other rifle. It was all over in less than a minute, the sixth Indian having apparently decided not to attack.

  Antonia was by now screaming at the top of her lungs, wailing like a lost child. Teresa simply watched it all unfold, her face a mask of silent terror. Hank was still struggling to dislodge the dead Indian when Hawk tugged him free.

  Hank struggled to his feet and, surveying the scene before him, he exclaimed incredulously, “What the…how the…damn! You done
killed four Indians, Hawk Banks!”

  “Ssshhh!” Hawk whispered cryptically. “That other one is still around. And if it’s Buffalo Hump, and my guess is that it is, we need to be minding ourselves. So just sit tight, and start loading those two weapons. If it is Buffalo Hump, then we’re most likely safe so long as he doesn’t know we haven’t a loaded weapon between us. He’s not prone to go charging into unknown odds like these fools did. So I’m hoping that it is indeed Buffalo Hump, because in that case, we’re on the high end of this skirmish, at least till morning.”

  Hank loaded the pair of rifles faster than he had ever loaded two weapons in his entire life. While he was doing that, Hawk loaded the third, then slapped Antonia hard enough to shut her up.

  “Now listen to me, Señora,” he whispered, “If you can see your way to stop that screeching, we might just survive till morning. Do you think you can do that for me? And for your child?”

  At this last, Antonia immediately ceased wailing. All was suddenly silent. Moments later, a song emanated from the cliff above. Hank recognized the refrain. It was the same soulful tune he’d heard once before, and the singer was also one in the same – Buffalo Hump.

  Two hours later morning dawned cloudy and cool. They were still within their fortress, surrounded by four dead horses and now accompanied by five dead Indians. It was not the sort of scene that brings pleasant thoughts.

  “Dang,” Hank said to himself as he surveyed the carnage of the previous night. “I sure wouldn’t want to die that way - head caved in by a boulder. That is positively sinister if you ask me,” but he couldn’t stop staring at the Indian lying before him, eyes bulging in death. Finally, tearing his gaze away, he inquired, “Can we go now, Hawk? Surely that Buffalo Hump has given up by now.”

  “No, sir, absolutely not. That heathen is the meanest son-of-a-bitch I have ever encountered in my entire life. And he possesses a streak of evil brilliance the likes of which you cannot imagine. We sit tight for the moment, because I can assure you that by himself he is a lot more dangerous than those five we killed last night.”

  “You mean – you killed last night!”

  “No sir, you count back, Hank. You killed the first one, and I was counting on that. There was no way I could have taken all five. You did your part, Hank!”

  “You mean that whole thing was planned?”

  “Of course,” Hawk replied blandly.

  Hank wanted to ask if Hawk had planned for the first Indian to fall on top of Hank, rendering him completely helpless, but he decided that was an issue to discuss at a more opportune time.

  Having seemingly regained her senses with the new day, Antonia volunteered, “Teresa is getting better. She just had a cold, I think.”

  “Good,” Hawk muttered laconically, and his abruptness spoke volumes.

  Seeeing his rancor, she offered, “I am truly sorry, Señor Halcón. You were correct. We should have stayed at Señor Seguin’s ranch. This whole mess is my fault,” and it was clear to Hank that she was trying to make amends.

  Hawk was another matter. He just glared at her. Finally, he hawked, spat, and blurted, “Señora, I certainly am no friend to these dead heathens surrounding us, but had you been in a little bit less of a hurry, and more inclined to listen to reason, I expect that these five brave men before us would be alive at this very moment. There are doubtless families of these men who will be sorely unhappy upon hearing of their demise,” and, having spoken thusly, Hawk paused and gave Antonia a piercing glance. He then suggested, “Perhaps the next time I give you advice, you will be more favorably disposed to accept it.”

  Antonia stared at him and, eyes glistening, a lone tear trickled down her cheek. She whispered, “Next time, yes Señor. Please, I beg of you. If you will be so kind as to allow me the honor of a next time, I shall in turn give you my word that I will try my best to do better.” She gazed pleadingly at Hawk and repeated, “Please, Señor.”

  “Aw, hell,” Hawk said, grabbing her and, pulling her to him, he enfolded her in a massive bear hug. “You’ve been through enough without me making it worse on you. Let’s just forget it and concern ourselves with getting to Bastrop. Alright?”

  Dabbing a final telltale tear, she whispered, “Yes.”

  “Good,” Hawk announced, his abruptly improved demeanor implying that there was an end to it. “First thing we need to do is find the whereabouts of the sixth Indian, who I presume is Buffalo Hump. I am going to do a bit of reconnoitering. The three of you stay here till I get back, you hear?”

  “Got it,” Hank replied.

  Antonia, who was obviously in no position to disagree, simply nodded her concurrence.

  Hawk set off to see what he could determine. He was back within five minutes, announcing pleasantly, “Everybody, come on out. We’ve got company, and better company I’ve never been happier to see!”

  Frowning in confusion, Hank inquired, “Who is it?”

  “We are blessed with the arrival of the Grey Company from South Carolina, come to help out at the Alamo! They’re right over the ridge there, about thirty of ‘em.”

  Still confused, Hank asked, “But what about Buffalo Hump?”

  “Oh, he’ll be long gone by now. That scoundrel can feel thirty men coming from ten miles off. Those Indians got a sixth sense, and his is easily the keenest I’ve laid eyes on. He’d never take on a big party like the Greys.”

  At this revelation the three immediately piled out of the little fortress, which by now had begun to develop a distinct odor of death. As all three were cramped from two days in such a small space, they required a moment to unkink their tired and hungry bodies.

  Seemingly the first to recover, Teresa suddenly exclaimed, “I’m hungry!”

  “Well then, you just come right up here, little lady, and I’ll get you over to those soldiers there as quick as a jack rabbit. We’ll get you fed,” Hawk said with a big grin, and so saying, he swept her up onto his shoulders.

  “What about my mama?” Teresa asked from her lofty perch.

  “Why, don’t you be worrying at all about the Señora. She and Hank will be following along directly behind us,” and shortly thereafter they approached the Greys.

  Arriving moments later, Hank overheard the conversation.

  “You say it was Comanches?” one soldier inquired of Hawk.

  “Yes, sir, that it was,” Hawk responded. “Hank, Antonia, this here is Major Bonham of the South Carolina Grey’s, come with his men here to support the Texas Revolution. And this here lovely young lady is Teresa.”

  Tipping his hat formally, Major Bonham replied, “Pleased to meet you all.”

  It was occurred to Hawk that here were the reinforcements that he had been sent to enlist. Furthermore, the loss of all four of their horses made it impossible for them to continue without assistance from the Greys. Thinking thusly, he suggested, “Look here, Major Bonham, I have been sent on my current assignment by Colonel Neill, the commanding officer at Bexar, to locate reinforcements. You and your men seem to be the answer to our prayers.

  “But I do have one other assignment, and that is to transport Señora Perez and her daughter to Bastrop. She has done the Army of Texas great service, and I am attempting to get her out of harm’s way during this conflict. Unfortunately, we were set upon by Comanches two days ago, and in the course of our escape we lost our horses.

  “I would therefore be greatly in your debt if you could supply us with horses so that I might continue on to Bastrop. And in due course I will return to San Antonio with your horses. Would that be possible, sir?”

  “Well, sir, we are a bit short on horses at the moment,” Bonham responded, “We have but three pack horses for our party, and they are run down by our lengthy journey. But I expect that we could provide you with those three. Would that do, sir?”

  “That would do nicely, and I would be greatly in your debt, sir.”

  “I am wondering,”
Bonham continued, “I believe I heard you say that you intended to protect the Señora here from harm. If that is the case, then I believe that you will be wanting to know that there has been a general uprising of the Comanches in the immediate neighborhood of Bastrop. The locals informed us upon our passage through there that the current hostilities between the Indians and the locals made it unsafe to remain in Bastrop. I am just telling you this - it may not be the right place for her to go just now if you are attempting to find a safe haven for her.”

  “Oh! I was not aware of that,” Hawk responded.

  Hank was clearly disturbed by this, so much so that he put in, “Did you happen to pass through the area east of Bastrop?”

  “Why, yes sir, we did,” Bonham replied.

  “My farm is east of Bastrop, just five miles along the road running over to Washington-on-the-Brazos. Did you notice a farm in those parts?”

  “Well, sir, we saw several farms. I’m not really sure which one that would be, but they all seemed to be abandoned to us. What did you say your name was?”

  “MacElrae, Hank MacElrae,” Hank responded.

  Bonham scratched his head and proffered, “Name doesn’t ring a bell. But that could be a good thing. I’d have heard had anything untoward happened to the folks by that name. Is your family there, sir?”

  “Well, they were there when I left in October. I don’t rightly know where they are now,” Hank responded despondently.

  “I wish I could tell you more, sir, but I just do not know their whereabouts.”

  “I understand,” Hank said. He then turned to Hawk and suggested, “Hawk, I need to be gettin’ on home to check on Julie and Auggey.”

  “I understand,” Hawk said succinctly. He now turned to Bonham and said, “We’ll be taking those three horses now if that is alright with you, sir.”

  Hawk and Hank began preparing to depart for Bastrop when one of the Greys came running up to Major Bonham and yelled, “Indians! Major, look off to the east there! They’ve started a prairie fire! Dang, what are those heathens up to?”

  Hawk peered in the direction the man was pointing, and sure enough, a prairie fire was already growing, and it was beginning to develop into a major blaze, thereby cutting them off from Bastrop. As he watched, he could see a distinctive figure racing bareback across the prairie, spreading the fire with a large bundle of flaming prairie grass strung from a rope behind his horse. At this Hawk shouted, “Damn! It’s Buffalo Hump!”

  “Who?” Bonham responded.

  “Buffalo Hump,” Hawk repeated, “He’s a Comanche brave we tangled with back yonder along that creek. He’s the meanest Indian I’ve ever come across. You can bet he didn’t start that prairie fire just for the fun of it. We have quite a large party of men here, and like as not he’s protecting something or somebody that’s on the other side of that fire he’s building. He’s sending us a message to back off, and he’s not alone.”

  “He’s not?” Bonham responded, looking bewildered.

  “Nope. Look off to the southeast there. I count seven, maybe eight braves. See there?” and so saying, he pointed.

  “I don’t see nothin’,” Bonham answered.

  “I see them,” Hank said. “And there’s three more off further to the north there!” at which he too pointed.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Hawk said. “It’s a damn good thing those other braves weren’t with Buffalo Hump a couple of days ago. We’d be dead by now. In fact, I’ll bet he went off and rounded those braves up to get even with us for killing his five buddies last night.”

  “You two killed five Comanches?” Bonham asked doubtfully.

  Hank interjected, “Not me, Hawk done killed ‘em. I was just a helpless witness.”

  Bonham now looked even more surprised, but he had apparently already begun to believe this unlikely story, for he followed with, “What do you recommend that our course of action should be, Lieutenant Banks?”

  “Well, sir, I do believe that we are now cut off from traveling to Bastrop. And if you ask me, that is just fine, since as you have so aptly pointed out, it isn’t safe there just now. So I expect we had better all turn around and head directly for Bexar.”

  At this Hank lurched forward and squawked, “No sir, I ain’t gonna do it! I got to get home and find Julie and Auggey!”

  Hawk responded patiently, “You heard the man, Hank. She’s not there. She’s either dead, or she’s gone off to escape this Indian uprising. In either case, there’s no point in heading to Bastrop.”

  Hearing this, Hank became even more adamant, “SHE AIN’T DEAD! I can feel it inside me. I know she’s alive!”

  “Well, I hope that your insides are correct, my friend,” Hawk retorted callously, “But I cannot let you go off looking for her under the current circumstances!”

  Joining the revolt, Antonia screamed, “I’m going with him!”

  “No, you’re not,” Hawk responded coldly.

  “The hell you say!” Hank yelled, and so saying, he turned and prepared to mount his horse. He jumped on the horse but, failing to notice that Hawk had already prepared for this possibility, he was roped before he knew it. Hank slid off his horse slicker than a pat of butter on a hot slice of bread. He hit the ground hard, so hard that Hawk feared he might’ve been hurt.

  Appearing momentarily winded, Hank rolled over sluggishly. But he jerked abruptly upright and heaved on the rope with all his might, thereby yanking Hawk right off his feet.

  By now toting a whip, Antonia dashed over and started whipping Hawk with all her might.

  Major Bonham, who was shocked senseless by the unfolding scene, simply froze in his tracks.

  Apparently unharmed, Hawk stood up and, grabbing Antonia as if she were a twig, he tugged the whip away. Containing her with one hand at arm’s length, he dusted himself off with the other, all the while glaring at Hank. Throughout the playing out of this bizarre scene, the prairie fire, now no more than fifty yard distant, continued to expand and intensify.

  Hank now pulled the rope from about himself and turned to face Hawk. Launching himself full force directly into Hawk’s massive chest, the pair went down and rolled over and over two, then three times. Still within Hawk’s grasp, Antonia went down with them. All three now covered in dirt from head to foot, Hank dragged Hawk to his feet and struck him right in the face with the hardest punch he could possibly muster. At this Hawk shrugged and, launching a blow of his own, he walloped Hank clean off his feet.

  It was all over in seconds, as Hawk pinned Hank down and trussed him up tighter than a grasshopper in a black widow’s parlor. Hank lay flat and, completely exhausted, he was unable to move an inch. Turning to Antonia, Hawk dragged her to her feet and tied her hands behind her back. She squirmed a bit, but it was obvious that resistance was futile.

  Hawk now inquired with incongruous civility, “Major Bonham, I would appreciate it if you could have your men help me to situate my two friends on those two horses. And then we will all be heading away from that approaching prairie fire, and back up the trail to Bexar.”

  From behind him, Hank’s muffled voice exclaimed, “I ain’t never goin’ to forgive you for this, Hawk Banks!”

  For her part, Antonia simply stood stoically, shoulders back, staring furiously at Hawk.

  “Shut up!” Hawk shouted. “Now let’s get out of here, before Buffalo Hump figures out just how ill-prepared this party is and decides to have us all for dinner tonight!”

  At this, the entire group swung into action, and within seconds they were riding quickly toward the southwest.