The Tears of God

Chapter Thirteen

Nate reined down the mountain. The Texan’s pistol boomed and the Pawnees howled in rage.

The ride was a nightmare. Obstacles loomed so abruptly that avoiding them took all the skill Nate possessed. His fear was for the bay more than himself. A mistake on his part could bring the animal to ruinous harm.

They rode and they rode and gradually the sounds of pursuit faded. They were nearly to the bottom of the mountain when Nate brought the bay to a stop and shifted in the saddle to listen.

“I think we shook them,” Maklin said.

“I hope so.”

“How many did you rub out?”

Nate had to think. “I shot two and stabbed another. I expect all three are dead.”

“And I shot a fourth, so there are only seven left. Maybe Kuruk will give up and go home.”

“Anyone who hates as much as he does won’t quit easy.” Nate clucked the weary bay on.

Maklin came up next to him. “What do you think those things were we saw earlier?”

“I have no idea,” Nate admitted. But he was determined to find out. “I reckon a visit to those caves is in order.”

“When you do, I’m tagging along.”

Nothing else was said until they neared the Valley of Skulls. The weary bay was about tuckered out and Nate was looking forward to letting it rest.

Suddenly a voice split the night.

“Halt! Who is that?”

Nate drew rein in surprise. “Haskell, is that you? It’s King and Maklin. We’re coming in.”

The freighter lieutenant and another man had their rifles in hand. “It’s good to see you safe. We heard shooting far off, so the captain decided to have us take turns standing guard until morning.”

Nate related, briefly, the clash with the Pawnees.

“We’ll keep our eyes skinned. If those devils show their red hides, we’ll blister them with lead.”

The valley lay still and peaceful under the stars. Most of the freighters had turned in, but Jeremiah Blunt was still up and Nate had to recite his fight again between sips of piping-hot coffee.

“We’ll inform Lexington in the morning,” Blunt declared. “His people are at risk.”

“Not that it will do any good,” Maklin said bitterly. “Not one of those yacks will lift a finger to defend themselves.”

“The Pawnees don’t know that,” Blunt mentioned.

Nate hadn’t thought of that. Since most whites carried guns, Kuruk would assume the Shakers were armed and might not attack. “It could be what saves them,” he said, and was raising his tin cup for another swallow when he went rigid.

The ground was shaking. Not hard, not violently, but enough that Nate felt uneasy. The horses set to whinnying and the oxen to lowing. A nearby cauldron bubbled loudly and a prolonged hiss filled the air. In less than a minute the shaking stopped.

“I don’t like it when it does that,” Jeremiah Blunt said. “I am not a student of geology, but I know when ground is unstable. The Shakers would be well advised to set up their new colony elsewhere.”

Nate agreed, but he mentioned that trying to convince Arthur Lexington would be a waste of breath.

“The man is too fond of himself. He believes he is right and everyone else is wrong.”

“People like him rub me wrong,” Maklin said.

At last Nate was able to turn in. He lay on his back with his saddle for a pillow. Every muscle seemed sore. He was so tired he figured he would drift off quickly, but his mind refused to shut down. It was three in the morning when sleep claimed him.

The clink of a coffeepot woke him. Dawn was about to break and Blunt and several others were already up. Blunt planned to start unloading the wagons as soon as the sun rose in order to get it done in one day.

Nate offered to lend a hand, but the captain said it wasn’t necessary, that his men had strong backs and worked well together.

Along about ten, with the freighters unloading and the Shaker men busy building and the Shaker women doing their daily chores, Nate decided to explore the rest of the valley. He drifted past the cabins, then past hot springs too numerous to count. Some constantly bubbled and boiled while others bubbled now and again. When they did, they hissed like serpents.

Nate noticed a foul odor that was stronger near the cauldrons and vents.

The skulls and bones fascinated him. There were so many. Their size staggered the imagination. One leg bone was bigger than he was. A skull had teeth longer than his fingers. Whatever these creatures were, they had been huge.

Slopes sparse with vegetation led up to the cliffs. Nate counted over forty on the north side of the valley alone. An ancient footpath wound up to them.

Nate stood in the entrance to the lowest and peered into its depths. The reek was strong here, too, although why that should be puzzled him. He started in, but had only gone a dozen steps when it became so dark he couldn’t see his hand at arm’s length. He deemed it best to back out and was about to do so when he heard the unmistakable tread of a foot.

Someone, or some thing, was in there with him.

Nate raised the Hawken. The Indians claimed that the race that once lived in the valley had long since died out, but maybe the Indians were mistaken.

“King? Are you in here?”

Lowering his rifle, Nate answered, “I’m coming out, Maklin.” He felt like a fool. Even more so when he nearly bumped into the Texan. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I wanted to tag along. Blunt saw you hike off and let me know.”

“He would make a fine wife.”

The Texan grinned. “Don’t let him hear you say that. I’ve seen him lift an anvil over his head.” He stared into the dark tunnel. “So what did you find in there? Anything?”

“No.”

The trail continued upward, a groove in the rock worn by untold thousands of feet untold thousands of years ago.

“Any sign of those things we saw last night?”

“Not yet.”

The next cave was smaller. The cave floor was inches thick with dust and the cave had a musty smell. The sun penetrated into it far enough to reveal bones scattered all over. Only they were different from those below.

“These were people,” Maklin said.

The dome of a skull poked from the dust. Nate picked it up and brushed it off and turned it over. It was twice the size of an ordinary skull and the eye sockets were twice the size of human eyes. Patches of red hair clung to the crown. He plucked at a strand and it broke apart. The jaw was intact, and when he examined the mouth, he received a shock. “Maybe not.”

“What have you got there?”

Nate showed Maklin the skull and touched a finger to the mouth. “You tell me.”

“I’ll be damned.”

The mouth was rimmed with two rows of teeth on both the top and bottom. All were the same size and shape, unlike a human mouth where the back teeth were different from the front. Each tooth was as big as Nate’s thumbnail, the enamel still strong after all the years the skull must have lain there.

“It has to be a freak of some kind,” Maklin guessed.

Nate roved about and found a smaller skull. A child’s, if the size was an indication. It, too, had two rows of teeth, top and bottom. He showed it to the Texan.

“These people were monsters.”

Tufts of red hair poked from the child’s skull, too. Nate touched one and said, “Some Indian tribes have tales of a time long ago when redheaded cannibals lived in the mountains. They say they fought with the cannibals and eventually wiped them out.”

Maklin picked up the large skull. “These were those cannibals, you reckon?” He held it in one hand. “I heard a lot of strange tales myself from the Lipans and others.” He drew one of his knives.

“What are you doing?”

“No one will believe me if I don’t have something to show them.” So saying, Maklin pried a tooth loose and slid it into a pocket. “The Lipans wouldn’t like that. They’re afraid to disturb the dead. They think the spirits of the dead can come back from the land of the dead to haunt us.” The Texan chuckled. “I loved Na-lin dearly, but her superstitions were plumb ridiculous.”

They emerged into the light of day. Nate craned his neck to scan the caves higher up. Nowhere was there sign of life, nowhere a clue to the pale things he had seen the night before.

“Are you fixing to climb all the way to the top?”

Nate was thinking about it. He would like to know if there were more skulls with two rows of teeth. He started up but stopped at an exclamation from Maklin.

“Will you look at that!”

The Texan was staring at the mountain rim to the south. There, clearly outlined against the blue of sky, stood a lone figure. Nate didn’t have his spyglass, but it had to be one man and one man only. “Kuruk.”

“The bastard is letting you know he’s still out there.”

Nate turned and made for the bottom. A gauntlet had been thrown in his face, and he accepted.

“Hold on, hoss. What’s the rush?”

“I aim to end it,” Nate vowed. “One way or the other.”

“Think a moment. That’s exactly what he wants you to do. Go hurrying off to find him and ride right into a trap.”

“Could be,” Nate allowed.

“You’re going anyway?”

“If I don’t I’ll be looking over my shoulder the rest of my days.” Nate refused to let that happen.

“I savvy. You’re worried he might follow you to that valley where you live and do harm to your missus and your kids and friends.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, then. We’ll go to where they camped last night and track them down. It will be them or us.”

“Not us. Me.”

“I have my orders, remember.”

Nate went in search of Jeremiah Blunt. The captain was busy overseeing the transfer of crates and goods from the wagons to the cabins. Tools, salt, flour, blankets, the Shakers had enough of everything to last years. Nate tapped Blunt on the shoulder. “We need to talk.”

“I’m listening,” Blunt said, and in the next breath bellowed, “Williams! Careful with that. It has china plates and dishes. Drop it and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

“The Texan,” Nate said.

“What about him?” Blunt asked, and turned to a man carrying a pack. “That one goes in the women’s quarters. You’re not to go in yourself. Just hand it to them at the door.”

“Call off your shadow. I have something to do and I’m doing it alone.”

“Can’t,” Blunt said.

“Why in hell not?”

“Now, now. Don’t lose your temper. I can’t and I won’t because I like your daughter.”

“What does Evelyn have to do with this?”

Blunt faced him. “The night before she left with McNair, she asked me to watch out for you.”

“She did what?”

Blunt grinned. “She’s your daughter. She loves you. All that talk about the Valley of Skulls worried her so much, she took me aside and asked if I would do what I could to make sure you get back to your family safe and sound.”

Nate sighed. It sounded like something Evelyn would do. Behind his back, no less. In that, she was much like her mother. Winona, too, had a mind of her own and was not shy about having her say and doing as she pleased.

“A promise is a promise,” Jeremiah Blunt said. “Where you go, Maklin goes. What you do, he does. That’s how it will be until we part company.”

“Why him out of all your men? Just because he’s killed?”

“I figured you had a lot in common. You’ve lived with Indians. He’s lived with Indians. You like the wilds. He likes the wilds. And when I asked for a volunteer he raised his hand.”

“Why?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Nate cradled his Hawken. “I’m putting my foot down. He’s not to come with me. I mean it.”

“You can’t stop him short of shooting him, and you won’t do that. It’s not in you.” Blunt clapped Nate on the arm. “Cheer up. You’re a good man, Nate King. A decent man. You put your family before all else. You treat others with respect so long as they respect you. You don’t drink much and you hardly ever swear. Truth is, you’re different from about every other mountain man I’ve met.”

“There must be a lot of men like me.”

Blunt sobered and shook his head. “I wish there were. A lot of men find goodness boring. They’d rather drink whenever they want and bed any woman they want and they don’t give much of a damn about anyone but themselves.”

Nate had more to say, but just then hooves clomped and up rode Maklin leading the bay by the reins.

“I’m ready to shed blood when you are, pard.”