aggravate the wound any more than he needed to.
The trouble was, the longer they waited, the more time O’Neill had to get away, and the less chance Madigan would see Lewana alive again. Something would have to be done, and done quick.
“I’m going to hike over to the far side of the rim,” he told LaRue. “With the Sharps, I might be able to drive them out of hiding. It’ll be up to you to keep them moving in the right direction.
“Any of them head for the tunnel, let ‘em go. If they try for the village, we’ll have to stop them or we’ll have a slaughter on our hands.”
Madigan didn’t wait for LaRue to answer. He grabbed his gear he was up and moving at a fast walk for the other side of the canyon rim. He’d have to stay well back from the inner edge so as to not give his position away before he was ready.
At least this end of the canyon was narrower than at the village end and wouldn’t take long to get around. In ten minutes of pushing himself, Madigan was settled in place.
His heart beat so hard it felt like it was coming out of his chest, so Madigan made himself breathe deeply until his body became calm again. Couldn’t afford to miss any shots. He noticed the wound was bleeding through his shirt again and it hurt like hell, but pain was something a man can block from his mind if he needs to bad enough.
Carefully edging up until he could just barely see the fountain area below, he checked the wind, figured the distance, and brought the heavy buffalo gun up to his shoulders, all in one deliberate motion.
Almost by itself, the gun slammed against Madigan’s shoulder. When the smoke cleared, another man lay dead in the hot sun. The others were scattering in all directions.
Two of O’Neill’s men made the mistake of running toward the village. LaRue dropped them in their tracks before they went twenty feet. Pretty good shooting, Madigan thought as he squeezed off another round at a cowboy that was too confused to go anywhere. The man dropped with a thud, then started to get up, fell back down, and lay still.
They’d whittled O’Neill’s men down some, but there was still enough left to do some real harm if they didn’t get them out of the hidden valley soon. This wasn’t a game, and things could get desperate in a hurry if anything went wrong, like LaRue or Madigan catching a stray bullet.
Two things bothered Madigan. The first and foremost was the thought of O’Neill taking Lewana further away from him each minute he was forced to stay here. The second was the fact that it wouldn’t stay daylight forever. Once it got dark they would have no way of keeping O’Neill’s men under their guns.
They might choose to head for the escape route that lay open to them, or they might choose to go into the village for the gold and maybe a few hostages. Something needed to be done in a hurry, only Madigan didn’t know what. At least for the moment the men were making themselves scarce.
Using the momentary lag in activity, Madigan picked up his binoculars and carefully scanned the fountain area. There had to be something he could use to his advantage.
In the army he was taught to always take the high ground wherever possible, then scout the enemy’s camp for anything you could use against them. It can be something small, going unnoticed to the casual eye, yet to the trained soldier it might be used as a weapon to bring the enemy to defeat.
Madigan was hoping for something now, only he didn’t know what. Only desperation told him there had to be some tool for him to use if he could just find it. He must’ve glassed the camp several times before giving up. There just wasn’t anything he could use to an advantage.
The men were well hidden, and with the fountain standing close to the wall, it was possible for them to keep out of sight from LaRue and Madigan at the same time. They’d have to move their own positions in order to find a target below. The outlaws weren’t likely to show themselves again if they didn’t have to.
The mind acts in strange and mysterious ways, so the saying goes. You try to solve a problem, and not finding an answer, you finally give up. But your subconscious goes right on working at it. Then when you least expect it, out pops the answer you were looking for.
So it was now. Madigan had been looking over the outlaws’ camp, finding nothing but a half-raised tent and a pile of supplies. Each man carried his own guns so there was no weapons stack. Spread here and there a few bedrolls were laid out. Just inside the west wall another couple of small packages sat off by themselves.
Suddenly it hit him. Mila said O’Neill tossed dynamite at the Indians to scare them off. That was it! Those packs must hold the dynamite! Remembering back to the army, Madigan realized O’Neill always carried explosives with him in a pack like the ones he now concentrated on. Hopefully, this was the solution Madigan was looking for.
While many a man can face the thought of being shot, few can face being blown to bits. Madigan was betting these men weren’t any different. Madigan formed a quick plan in his mind and hoped LaRue was ready to keep them going in the right direction once he put his plan in action.
When a big bullet hits the dirt, it throws up a lot of dust. The Sharps was a large gun that shot a big bullet. Taking careful aim, Madigan let fly a shot just short of the packs he hoped carried the explosives. Madigan knew LaRue was wondering what he was up to, but it didn’t matter if he knew or not. It was the results Madigan was after.
Sure enough, when the bullet kicked up dirt a few feet from the first pack, every man down there took notice. A few men quickly changed positions, in the process exposing their flanks to LaRue. But LaRue held his fire as Madigan hoped he would. A second shot, this time a little closer to the packs brought a definite response. The rest of the men put anything they could between themselves and the explosives.
Madigan waited and watched as the outlaws fidgeted at any noise around them. One man coughed and they all jerked their heads down. It was plain to see they expected the worst. Often the anticipation is harder on one’s nerves than the event itself. Like dropping one boot and not the other, he’d gotten their attention. Now they were beginning to crack.
A third shot got the men up and running. Those that ran the wrong way either dropped from LaRue’s rifle fire or turned tail and ran the right way. A few more shots from Madigan’s Sharps kept the slow ones moving. In a few seconds they managed to herd all the men through the narrow hole that led to the interior of the tunnel.
With a sigh of relief, Madigan leaned back against a rock. His wound had gotten worse and the pain was fierce, yet he felt good at his accomplishment. Now to gather his breath and get after O’Neill, but first there was one more thing he had to do.
In less than half an hour, Madigan had set the packs of explosives just inside the tunnel mouth and had lit the fuses after first firing a couple of rounds into the darkness to be sure the outlaws were well back. It wasn’t so much that he wanted them safe from the explosion as much as he didn’t want to get a bullet in his back while he was leaving.
He knew the tunnel walls were fairly smooth for several hundred yards inside and his bullets would ricochet everywhere. Only an idiot would be foolhardy enough to stick around with lead bouncing all over the place.
He’d given himself enough fuse to get back up on the rim to safety before the charge went off. Madigan’s timing was perfect. Just as he got back in position beside LaRue, the whole thing blew with an ear-splitting roar that shook the ground like an earthquake.
When the smoke and dust cleared, they could see that the tunnel was sealed at this end for all eternity. This done, Madigan was now free to find O’Neill. He only prayed Lewana was still alive.
After lighting the fuse, Shorty and the others headed out of the tunnel at a run. Not having any experience with blasting powder, Shorty wanted to put as much ground between himself and the bomb. After crossing over the ledge that bypassed the tilting slab of stone, Mila motioned for the party to take a rest among a jumble of boulders. It was here Shorty got an idea.
When O’Neill and his men came out, they too would have to use the ledge over the tilt stone. At that time they would be very susceptible to an ambush. And if Shorty had his way, he would make sure they got one. Quickly outlining his plan to Mila and the rest, he sat down with them to wait. It was after the first explosion that they heard someone coming.
“Looks like we have company,” Shorty said quietly. “Now, everybody get ready. When they hit the ledge, we can pick them off one by one if they want to make a fight of it. Then again, if they’ll give up and drop their guns, that’s all right with me. We’ll take O’Neill back for trial and you and your people can have the rest. I’m sure you’ll want an accounting from them for your people they killed.”
