Billy Swan was riding Nighthawk when he heard the faint sound of hooves on rock. Since the herd was at rest, he looked around to find the source of the sound and saw a long dark line, ragged with heads and horns, moving away from the main herd.
It took him a moment to realize exactly what was happening, but once he figured it out, he reacted quickly.
“Cattle thieves!” he shouted. “James, Bob, Duke, the rest of you, wake up! Turn out! We’re being robbed!”
Billy’s shout not only awakened his partners, it alerted the thieves and, instantly one of them fired a shot at the sound of Billy’s voice. Billy saw the muzzle flash, then heard the bullet whiz by, amazingly close for a wild shot in the dark.
Billy shot back, and the crack of the guns right over the heads of the pilfered cows started them running. By now, rapid fire began coming from the camp itself as James and the others rolled out of their blankets and began shooting. Revelation was standing in the wagon, firing a rifle, adding her own effort to the fight.
Billy put his pistol away and raised his rifle. He aimed toward the dust and the swirling melee of cattle, waiting for one of the robbers to present a target. One horse appeared, but its saddle was empty. Then another horse appeared, this time with a rider who was shooting wildly.
Billy fired and the robber’s horse broke stride, then fell, carrying his rider down with him, right in front of the running cattle. Downed horse and rider disappeared under the hooves of the maddened beasts.
“Let’s go! Let’s get out of here!” someone shouted.
“What about the cattle?” another voice asked.
“Leave ’em! They’re runnin’ wild; we’ll never get ’em under control now!”
As nearly as Billy could tell, there were three remaining rustlers, or would-be rustlers, and they started off, running in the opposite direction from the running cows.
Billy was torn between a desire to go after the rustlers or run down the cattle. So far, only the cattle that had been stolen were running. The main herd, though made restless by the flashes and explosions in the night, milled around but resisted running.
James appeared alongside Billy at that moment, now mounted on his own horse.
“Let’s get them back!” James shouted to Billy, indicating they should go after the running cows.
“What about the rest of the herd?”
“Bob and the others will keep the herd here,” James said, spurring his horse into a gallop toward the fleeing cows.
Billy urged his own horse into a gallop, and within a minute he and James were riding alongside the lumbering animals.
“We’ve got to get to the front!” James called.
The cows were running as fast as they could, which was about three quarters of the speed of the horses. But what the cattle lacked in speed, they made up for with their momentum. With lowered heads, wild eyes, and flopping tongues, the cattle ran as if there were no tomorrow.
Finally, James and Billy reached the head of the column, rode to the front and were able to turn them. Once the cows were turned, they lost their forward momentum, slowed their running to a trot, and finally to a walk. When that happened, James and Billy were able to turn them around and start them back.
Fifteen minutes later they brought the small herd back. Bob, Duke, and the Scattergoods, including Revelation, had been able to keep the main herd calm. When the one hundred would-be rustled cows were returned to the others, everything settled down once more.
“Who was that?” James asked, getting down from his horse. “Who tried to rustle cows from us? It wasn’t Indians, was it?”
Bob shook his head. “It was soldiers,” he said.
“Soldiers?”
“At least the two we killed were soldiers.”
“Damn, I hate that,” James said. “That’s bound to cause trouble with the army.”
“I don’t know why it should cause trouble,” Bob said. “After all, they were the ones who were doing the stealing.”
James, Billy, and Duke went over to look down at the two dead soldiers. One of them was unmarked, except for a bullet hole in his forehead, just above the right eye. The other soldier was so badly mangled, bruised, and practically dismembered by the hooves of the cattle that the body was barely recognizable as that of a human being.
“James, do you recognize this fella?” Duke asked then. He had been looking at the less damaged of the two bodies.
“Yeah,” James said. “Yeah, I do recognize him. He’s one of the ones we saw in the bar.”
“Yes, his name was Murphy, I think.”
“Yankee bastard, serves him right,” John said.
“What do we do now?” Bob asked.
“Now we break camp,” James said. “I don’t think the soldiers we ran into are going to be in any hurry to report to their superiors what just happened here.” He pointed to the two bodies. “But they are going to have to account for these two men soon. So I suggest we get going.”
“What do you mean, get going?” Matthew complained. “Me ’n Mark didn’t even get a chance to go into town.”
“The way things are right now, if you go into town you are likely to stay there,” James said. “Either in jail, or shot down by some other soldiers.”
“Yeah, well, this ain’t no way right,” Matthew complained. “I mean, some folks getting to go into town and some folks not.”
“What are going to do about them two?” Bob asked, nodding toward the two dead soldiers. “Think we should bury them?”
James shook his head. “No. Once the army realizes they are missing, they’ll come looking for them. If we bury them, it’ll make it hard for them to find them.”
“Once they do find them, they’re goin’ to know what happened to them, then they’ll come looking for us,” Matthew Scattergood said.
“That’s true,” James said. “That’s why I want to get out of here now.”
“All right, you heard the man,” Bob said. “Let’s get going.”
“What about breakfast?” Matthew asked.
“What about it?” James replied.
“Well, we ain’t et yet, that’s what about it,” Matthew said, complaining bitterly.
“We’ll eat in the saddle, jerky and water,” James said. “Come on, let’s go. I want to be five miles away from here by the time the sun comes up.”
Fort Benton was established by the American Fur Company as a trading post in 1845. Named after Senator Thomas Hart Benton of Missouri, it was at the absolute head of steam navigation on the Missouri River, and the fastest way into the Northwest territories. During the gold rush of 1862, it became an exceptionally busy port.
Landing a riverboat in the shallow waters at Fort Benton required a great deal of teamwork between the captain, leadsman, engine room, and deckhands. The boat had to be maneuvered around sand shoals and over sunken obstacles, all the while maintaining enough power to overcome the powerful current. With the relief valve booming like cannonfire, and the wheel working the water into a muddy frenzy, the
Angus, Chance, and Percy Butrum stood on the hurricane deck, watching the activity as the boat put in at Fort Benton. It landed by ramming its bow into the bank, then maintained that position by tying a hawser around a tree.
“Ain’t much of a town,” Percy said, looking at the low-lying, gray, rip-sawed buildings scattered along the
