Hard Days

CHAPTER ONE Apaches They brought them in, four men, bound, heads bowed as they traipsed through the fort gates. Apaches. None turned and reacted to the many derisory comments and sneers from the civilians lining up to watch them. Some of the cavalrymen who formed the prisoner detail laughed. Cole threw a sharp glance at the officer in charge. “Shut your men up, Lieutenant!” The young man turned away, shame-faced, and barked orders at his men. Disgruntled, the soldiers gradually fell into silence, but their scathing looks continued. Riding alongside Cole, the young trooper who had gone out into the plains to track down the motley looking Indians, leaned closer. “Mr Cole, I’m not sure we should antagonise any of my fellow-soldiers. If we hint at any sympathy for these here savages, then I’m likely to come up against some bad feelings in the bunkhouse later on.” “Sympathy?” Cole’s eyes grew dark. “These boys were ripped from their homes and forced marched across a hundred miles of scrub to a reservation that bears no resemblance to anything they have known. I don’t blame ‘em for breaking out. But shooting the guards, that was wrong.” “And that’s why they’ll hang.” “I believe so if it can be proved.” “Which it will be, surely.” “Unless hatred and suspicion get in the way. We have to be certain because if we ain’t then there could be trouble. There are still roaming bands of Kiowa and Comanche out there and I hate to think what they might do if we act too hastily. Besides,” Cole turned in his saddle and peered at the three Apaches shuffling bare-footed across the ground, “we didn’t catch ‘em all. There’s at least two more out there.” “Including their leader perhaps?” Grunting, Cole studied the young soldier. “You did well out there, son. I’m impressed. What did you say your name was?” “Vance,” and he gave an involuntary salute. “I haven’t long been in uniform, Mr Cole. Still learning on the job, as it were.” “Well, you sure learned a lot these last few days, that’s for sure. Next time we’re called out to track down anyone, I’ll be asking for you.” Red-faced, Vance quickly looked away, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “My, that is praise indeed. Thank you, Mr Cole.” “You sound educated, son. I wonder why an educated young man would want to seek out a life in the U.S. Cavalry, especially out here in this godforsaken land.” “Lots of reasons.” “Well, I won’t press you none, but I’m grateful that you did, whatever the reasons.” He smiled before pulling his horse away, gesturing to the other troopers flanking the captured Apaches. “Move ‘em over to the jail boys and make sure they is bound up tight.” “They’re not going anywheres,” said a rough-looking corporal, laughing. “Even so, you don’t take any chances with boys like this.” As the Indians shuffled by, the lead warrior stopped and looked up towards Cole. “You are the one they call He Who Comes. To be captured by you is an honour.” He turned his attention to the other soldiers. “But I tell you this. We shall not submit, and we will bring suffering down upon you.” He looked again at Cole. “Even you, He Who Comes.” Remaining tight-lipped, Cole watched as the scrawny looking Apache were pushed and shoved towards the tiny blockhouse prison. “What did he mean by that?” asked Vance, rubbing his chin, a deathly pallor falling over his face. “I don’t know but go tell that Lieutenant to double the guards tonight, Vance. Just to be on the safe side.” Saluting, Vance eased himself from his saddle, stretched out his back, and crossed the parade ground towards the slowly dispersing crowd of onlookers. After listening to what Vance had to say, the Lieutenant shot a vicious glance towards Cole, who nodded once before turning away, his unease growing.