Savage Territory

Chapter Twenty-seven

Matt was close.

He was not only close, he was pressing them because they were getting more careless in abandoning their campsites. At this campsite, they’d left the still-glowing embers of a campfire.

As Matt was examining the campsite, he realized that he was being watched. And because whoever was watching him had not killed him, he did not believe he was in immediate danger.

Stirring up the coals, Matt reignited the campfire, then put coffee grounds and water into his coffeepot and set it over the campfire to boil. Within moments, its rich aroma permeated the area. When he knew the coffee was done, he took two cups from his saddlebag.

“Would you join me for coffee, friend?” he called out.

Getting no response from his offer, he put one cup down by the fire and filled the second cup. Then, sitting on a nearby fallen log, he began to drink.

He heard a movement, then out of the corner of his eye saw the person who had been watching him.

Nopoloto came out from hiding, walked over to the fire, picked up the cup, then poured himself some coffee. Still without talking, he came over and sat on the same log as Matt.

“Agent Baker told me that you tried to seek justice for the raid on my village,” Nopoloto said.

“I tried,” Matt said. “I wasn’t very successful, I’m afraid.”

“What happens inside the heart is more important than what happens outside the heart. Because you tried, you are the friend of Nopoloto.”

Matt touched his cup to that of Nopoloto as if in toast. It was not a gesture with which Nopoloto was familiar, but he responded quickly.

“I am honored to be the friend of Nopoloto,” Matt said.

Nopoloto was quiet until they had finished drinking their coffee. Then he spoke.

“I will take you to Delshay,” Nopoloto said.

“I appreciate that.”

“But you must do as I say.”

“All right,” Matt agreed.

Searching around the camp, Nopoloto found a dead tree limb that was about six feet tall, and ended with a Y. He tied the branch to his saddle, then asked for Matt’s weapons.

“I don’t know,” Matt said. “I feel naked out here if I’m not armed.”

“You must do as I say,” Nopoloto said again.

Matt hesitated for just a moment, then handed his pistol to Nopoloto. Using a small strip of rawhide, Nopoloto tied the pistol to one side of the Y at the top of the branch. Then he did the same thing with Matt’s rifle, tying it to the other side. As they rode off, it was obvious to anyone who might see them that Matt was unarmed.

Matt followed Nopoloto, then chuckled as he realized they were circling back to an encampment he had already located, and discarded. Delshay was coming back to previously used encampments, realizing that whoever was following him would continue on.

As they approached the camp, Matt saw three Indians standing on the trail, waiting for them. One of the Indians was the biggest Apache he had ever seen. One was young, perhaps in his early twenties. The one in the middle was Delshay. Matt recognized him from the days when he had scouted for the army. Matt held his hand up, palm out, and was gratified to see that Delshay responded in the same way.

Delshay and Nopoloto spoke a few words in their own language. Then Delshay spoke to Matt in English.

“I have seen you before,” he said.

“Yes.”

“You were with the soldiers. Are you still with the soldiers?”

“No.”

“You have come for Mountain Lion Woman.”

“You have given her a fine name,” Matt said.

Delshay nodded. “Yes. She has the courage of a mountain lion. Her man has the courage of a rabbit.”

The other two Indians laughed.

“I have come for her, yes.”

“You would take her back to the coward?”

“I will take her where she wants to go,” Matt said.

“She will not wish to return to the coward.”

“I believe it is for her to decide.”

“Yes,” Delshay said. “It is for her to decide.”

With Matt and Nopoloto leading their horses, they followed Delshay and the other two Indians for about a mile until they came to the site of an encampment. As Matt had surmised, this was one of the earlier camps he had already discovered.

“You have been here before,” Delshay said.

“Yes,” Matt answered,

“You track like a wolf,” Delshay said. “I knew that you would find us. That is why I sent Cochinay to tell Nopoloto to bring you to me.”

“I am Cochinay,” the youngest of the three Indians who had met him said.

“You are married to the daughter of Nopoloto,” Matt said.

“You know this?” Cochinay asked in surprise.

Matt had heard about Cochinay and Alope from Nopoloto when he took him to the reservation hospital.

“Yes, I know this. It is a good marriage for her.”

“She is dead. She was killed before we could marry.”

“You are married,” Matt said. “In the spirit world, you are married, and she is very pleased.”

Cochinay nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think that is right.”

Matt looked around the campsite for Cynthia. At first, he saw only Indians—then he realized that one of the people he was seeing wasn’t an Indian.

“Mrs. Bixby?” he said.

“Mr. Jensen!” Cynthia replied with a happy shout. “You have come for me!” She started toward Matt, but he held up his hand to stop her.

“Delshay, will you let Mountain Lion Woman come with me?”

Before his question could be answered, the big Indian spoke to Delshay. He spoke in Apache, so Matt had no idea what they were talking about.

“Do not let the woman go with him,” Nalyudi said.

“Why should I keep her?” Delshay replied “She is of no value to me.”

“She took my medicine,” Nalyudi said. “You cannot let her go without allowing me to recover my medicine.”

“And how would you do this?”

Nalyudi looked at Matt. “I will fight the white man for her. If I defeat him, she will become my woman. If he defeats me, she leaves with him.”

“You would do this thing?” Delshay asked Nalyudi, speaking in English now.

“Yes,” Nalyudi replied, also in English. “If the white man is not a coward.”

Matt realized then that they were talking about him, but the realization didn’t surprise him. He had surmised as much during their conversation, even though he not understood one word.

“Mountain Lion Woman called you Jensen,” Delshay said. “Is that your name?”

“Yes.”

“Jensen, Nalyudi wishes to fight you,” Delshay said, indicating the big Indian. “If he wins, Mountain Lion Woman will be his woman. If you win, she will be your woman.”

Matt looked at Nalyudi, who was glaring at him. This wasn’t going to be a mere sporting exhibition. In all likelihood, this was going to be a fight to the death because Nalyudi was filled with hatred, though Matt had no idea why. However, if this was the only way he would be able to rescue Cynthia Bixby, then so be it.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll fight him.”

Nalyudi explained the rules of the fight. They would each be armed with a war club. They would both have to keep one end of a strip of rawhide, five feet long, in their mouths at all times. This would insure that they maintained close contact during the fight. If one of them let the rawhide strip out of his mouth, he would be required to lay down his club.

Matt nodded his agreement and Delshay presented each of them with a war club, then a long piece of rawhide. The two men put the ends of the rawhide strip in their mouths, then jumped apart to the maximum separation the length of rawhide would allow.

Nalyudi moved in first. He held the club over his head with both hands and as he approached, he brought it down sharply.

Matt barely managed to leap to one side as the war club came down. The miss left Nalyudi exposed, but because Matt had to move so quickly to get out of the way, he was unable to take advantage of the situation. Instantly, both men separated again.

Nalyudi swung again, and this time Matt was ready for him. He blocked Nalyudi’s war club with his own. The clash of clubs echoed from the nearby bluffs. Recovering quickly, Matt swung at Nalyudi, but the big Indian was much quicker, and more agile than Matt would have thought. Matt’s swing found only thin air. Nalyudi swung in response, and his club connected with Matt’s, jerking it out of his hand. Matt suddenly found himself unarmed!

With a victorious smile, Nalyudi began taunting Matt. He made a couple of jabs with his war club, catching Matt in the face with one of his thrusts. That prod opened up a three-corner tear and blood began streaming down Matt’s cheek.

Nalyudi could have ended the fight by closing in on him and bringing the war club down to crush Matt’s skull. But he was enjoying himself too much, and confidently, tauntingly, he began tossing his own war club from hand to hand.

That was where Nalyudi made his biggest mistake. The hand that could so quickly draw a pistol had no difficulty in reaching out to snatch the war club in mid-toss. It happened so fast that those who were watching, even Nalyudi, were unaware of the sudden change in fortune. Now it was Nalyudi who was unarmed.

Matt jabbed the war club into Nalyudi’s solar plexus. That had the effect of knocking the breath out of Nalyudi, and folding both his hands across his stomach, he bent over in an agonized attempt to breathe. At that point, all Matt would have had to do to kill him would be to bring the war club down on Nalyudi’s head, for the big Indian was totally defenseless.

Matt started the swing, but stopped it just short of hitting him. Instead, he touched Nalyudi’s head as if counting coups. Then he spat out the end of the rawhide strip, tossed the war club aside, and motioned toward Cynthia.

“Come, Mrs. Bixby, I’ll take you home,” he said.

Gratefully, Cynthia ran to him. Just before she reached him, though, she turned back to Chandeisi.

“Good-bye, Chandeisi, my friend,” she called. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“Good-bye, Cynthia Bixby,” Chandeisi replied.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out and looking around, Matt saw Delshay holding his hand over a wound in his chest. Nalyudi was holding a smoking rifle, and with an evil smile, he pointed it at Matt.

Three more shots rang out, and Nalyudi went down, felled by bullets from the rifles of Chandeisi, Cochinay, and Nopoloto. Matt realized then that the three Indians had saved his life. Their action was too late, however, to save Delshay, who lay dead where he had fallen.

“Go now,” Nopoloto said. “You will not be harmed.”

“Come along, Mrs. Bixby. We’re going to have to ride double, I’m afraid,” Matt said. “But Spirit is a good strong horse, he’ll be able to handle it.”

“I have a horse,” Cynthia said.

“You have a horse?”

“It is one I have been riding,” Cynthia said. “It is my horse, is it not?” she asked Chandeisi.

Chandeisi nodded. “It is your horse,” he said.

“I told you the son of a bitch would find her,” Willis said when he saw Matt and Cynthia on the road returning to Phoenix. With him were two of the men who had been a part of his posse, Karl Lathum and Angus Pugh. “All we have to do now is kill Jensen and take the girl.”

“What good will that do us?” Lathum asked. “Bixby said he wasn’t goin’ to pay no reward. You heard that same as I did.”

“We ain’t takin’ her for no reward,” Willis said. “We’re takin’ her for ransom. All we got to do is tell Bixby that if he wants to ever see her alive again, he’s goin’ to have to come up with that ten thousand dollars.”

“Where are we going to hit Jensen?” Pugh asked.

“At Weaver’s Needle,” Willis answered.