Free The Fury of Iron Eyes (An Iron Eyes Western #4) by Rory Black Page B

Who shoot at Iron Eyes and
Silent Wolf?’ the brave asked out loud.
    Iron Eyes tied his reins to
a tree branch. ‘Reckon I ought to take a look.’
    Silent Wolf leapt from his pony
and ran to
the side of the gaunt figure. ‘We both take look.’
    Iron Eyes was in no mood to
argue. ‘Let’s do us some tracking, little hunter.’

Chapter Sixteen
    The sound of distant
gunfire was still echoing all around the moonlit valley, and in the
hearts of the cavalry who waited anxiously for the gold miners to
ready their ten wagons. There was a chilling warning to the
troopers in the sounds of the bullets that came from the
mountainous forests.
    It was clear that something
had or was still occurring in the black trees above his men, and
Major Roberts decided he could wait no longer to make his retreat
from this handsome valley. Bullets were being fired and the officer
had no idea who their intended targets were. He stepped into his
stirrup, hauled himself on to his fresh, eager mount and rode
around his men trying to impart his own stalwart courage into his
meager force.
    Major Thomas Roberts grabbed
hold of his
reins and eased his horse towards the large figure of Sergeant
Walker.
    ‘ Let’s get out of this
place, John.’
    ‘ Reckon it must be about
time, sir,’ Walker nodded in obedience.
    ‘ Hopefully we have not left
it too late,’ Roberts whispered to his favorite soldier.
    The burly sergeant screamed
at the troopers to mount whilst Roberts rode along the line of
wagons until he found the one with Bull Fergis sitting on its
driving board. Reining in, the officer leaned close to the wheel
brake and spoke to the bearded man.
    ‘ I hope you’re ready, Mr.
Fergis, because I’m heading out right now. Those shots might not
have been aimed directly at us, but I for one am not going to wait
for the second volley.’
    Fergis wrestled with the
heavy reins attached to his team of oxen and nodded. ‘We’re ready,
Major. You lead and we’ll follow.’
    ‘ I pray we shall live to
share a bottle of whiskey together, Mr. Fergis.’
    Roberts waved his white
gauntlet in the air and then rode ahead of the caravan entrusted to
his care. One by one the wagons began to move slowly through the
tall, damp grass after the straight-backed officer, whilst the
troopers flanked them on both sides.
    It was a slow-moving
company of vehicles and riders at first, which gradually increased
its pace as the heavy oxen managed to find their footing in the
fertile soil.
    Sergeant Walker drove his
mount through the long grass until he was next to the horse of
Major Roberts. It was the place that he always chose to
be.
    ‘ What do you reckon those
shots were all about, sir?’ Walker asked his leader.
    ‘I’m not sure, but I’m in no
hurry to find out either. All I want to do is get out of this
valley and back on the prairie before there’s trouble,’ the officer
announced, as he allowed his horse to canter at a pace designed
to allow the
wagons to catch up with him.
    ‘ Sounded like a gunfight to
me,’ Walker said as he kept his horse level with
Roberts’s.
    ‘ You might be correct, but
we have other things to do tonight rather than theorize about
that.’ Roberts looked back at the wagons as their drivers were
managing to get their huge teams of oxen to gain speed. The sound
of bullwhips cracking above the horns of the teams of massive oxen
echoed around the valley. It was a sound which chilled the riding
troopers as their tired eyes scanned the forested hills for signs
of trouble.
    ‘ Guess you’re right, sir.
We gotta try and get this band of misfits to safety,’ Walker
shouted as he held on to his reins and rode alongside the troubled
commander of their aborted mission.
    The grim-faced officer knew the
words of his faithful sergeant were harsh but true. These men, who
rode on horses and wagons, knew nothing of Indian fighting. They had not fought
for their very lives as he and Walker had done so long ago. They
were placing their lives