Massacre of Eagles

Pony Face and Red Shield were shot down, even as they were protesting.

Sam Davis and Lee Regret stood over the two bodies, holding their still-smoking guns. The sound of the gunshots echoed back from the nearby mountains.

“Think there are any more around here?” Regret asked.

“We haven’t seen any more,” Davis answered.

“What do we do now?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Davis said. “I don’t think there’s any more of ’em around, but there’s no need to hang around, just in case.”

The day after the shooting, Grey Antelope and Howling Wolf found the two hunters, and when they brought the bodies back into the camp the entire village turned out. Both Pony Face and Red Shield had wives and children, so the mourning was intense.

High Hawk, the tribal chief, called a council to discuss the killing of the two hunters.

“We should kill two whites,” White Bull said.

“The whites already think we have killed two of them,” Jumping Elk said. “Two of the men who hunt for gold were found dead and scalped.”

“It was not an Indian who scalped them,” White Bull said.

“I think they were killed by other white men who hunt for gold,” High Hawk said. “But the white men think that they were killed by Crow.”

“And I think that Pony Face and Red Shield were also killed by men who hunt for gold,” Running Elk said.

“Running Elk, you speak the White Man’s tongue, I think you should go to the white man’s town and tell them that we have found two of our people killed, and ask if they will find and punish the ones who did this thing.”

“I will go,” Running Elk said.

No one in the village believed it to be any kind of organized action against the Indians, because the Crow were friendly with the white man. But it was known that white men could be driven crazy when they were searching for gold, so all were cautioned to be very careful while hunting, and to do nothing to anger the white man.

Bismarck

Angus Ebersole, Clay Hawkins, Ike Peters, and Jim Dewey were at a table at the back of Fireman’s Exchange Saloon. Ebersole was the biggest of the four men, and though no vote had ever been taken, he was the leader of the group simply because he had assumed leadership. Ebersole was bald, but had a dark handlebar moustache. Hawkins was thin and wiry with a nose that was so flat that it made a whistling noise when he breathed. Peters and Dewey were mediumsized with unremarkable features. The saloon was busy with the usual clientele: miners, ranchers, freighters, and soldiers. There were several bar girls working the room as well, but none had approached the four men.

Ebersole folded the Tribune and put it on the table in front of him. He had been reading the article Ingraham wrote about the would-be train holdup.

“Falcon MacCallister and Buffalo Bill Cody,” Ebersole said. “They’re the sons of bitches that messed up our plans. We’d have money now if it wasn’t for them.”

“Yeah, I’m so broke I don’t have two coins to rub together,” Hawkins said.

“Falcon MacCallister and Buffalo Bill,” Peters said. “Who would’ve thought that two men would shoot down Smitty, Hunt, and Collins.”

“And Billy,” Peters added.

“They didn’t kill Billy. Fact is, they got him in jail, right here in town,” Dewey said.

“Yes, and we need to get him out of jail,” Ebersole said.

“Get him out? Get him out how?” Hawkins asked.

“Break him out,” Ebersole said.

“Yeah, I reckon we do owe it to him, seein’ as we run off and left him,” Dewey said.

“Owin’ it to him ain’t got nothin’ at all to do with why I’m wantin’ to break him out,” Ebersole said.

“Well then, if you don’t think we owe it to him, why are you wantin’ to break him out?”

“He was with MacCallister and Cody all the time from where they got him, till they come here. I think he probably knows where they are going.”

“Why do we care where they are going?”

“Because soon as we find out where they are goin’, we are goin’ to track ’em down and kill ’em,” Ebersole said.

“Why?”

Ebersole smiled. “Boys, you got ’ny idea how famous we’ll be if we do that? There won’t be a person in the country who ain’t heard of us.”

“That’s why you want to kill ’em? So we’ll be famous?” Dewey asked. “I always sort of thought that in our line of work we didn’t exactly want to be famous.”

“It depends on what line of work you are talking about,” Ebersole said.

“Now, I don’t have no idea in hell what it is you are talkin’ about,” Dewey said.