Son of the Hawk by Charles G. West Page A

she would never forget the look of horror on Grady’s face as the slugs plowed into his body. So innocent looking at first, just two little puffs of dust from the sergeant’s shirt, and then his very life flowed out of him in agonizing seconds. She looked down at the rifle she still held but had not yet fired. Suddenly she flung it from her, as if that might make the nightmare go away.
    “Annie,” she heard Luke Austen call softly, and she realized that she had been in a near trance. He crawled over to where she sat against the wall and put his arm gently around her shoulders. Without hesitating, she pressed her body close against his and lay her head on his shoulder. He held her there for a while before speaking again, letting her take what small comfort she could. Finally he made himself tell her what he felt he must, but had dreaded to impart. “Annie,” he began, “we may get out of this yet . . .” He hesitated. “But if worse comes to worse, I want you to take this.” He pulled his pistol from his holster and pressed it into her hand. “Save this for yourself just in case we don’t make it. It’ll be easier than letting the savages capture you.”
    The reality of what he was telling her jolted her brain and her mind suddenly became clear and lucid. Her eyes wide, she gazed directly into his and a calmness began to settle over her. Taking the pistol, she nodded that she understood and sat up again. “I’m all right,” she assured him. “Maybe I won’t have to use this,” she added, knowing the odds were against it.
    Buck glanced briefly at the lieutenant when Luke crawled back to the rim of the gully where the old scout was keeping watch. He had heard Luke trying to comfort Annie while he gave her his pistol, and he knew it wasn’t easy for the lieutenant to do. Indians often took women prisoners, and most of the time they were treated kindly—sometimes even taken as wives. But he had a feeling the lieutenant was of the same mind he was—this bunch wasn’t looking for prisoners.
    Buck had been in many a hot spot in his long years in the mountains. But this time, he couldn’t see any possible escape from the hole they were now in. The main body of Sioux had pulled out, but some hadstayed behind. The Indians would keep them pinned down while some of their brothers worked their way up on the slope behind them. There was no way out. Buck’s only hope was that he and Luke could make it so costly for the Sioux that they might eventually decide the cost was too dear. Still, glancing up behind him at the sheer face of the rock wall, he had to admit that, once the Indians reached that ledge above them, this little party was over. The girl might have to use that pistol after all.
    The afternoon wore on, and now the sun was almost resting on the western side of the canyon. Buck and Luke sat watching in opposite directions—Luke with his back against the rim of the gully, watching the ledge above them—Buck trying to pinpoint the warriors positioned in the canyon before them. They had gathered as many rifles as they could safely recover and loaded them, preparing for an all-out assault if one came. Grady Post had collected enough canteens so they had enough water to last for a couple of days, maybe longer if they used it sparingly. Buck was not concerned about the water supply. He was pretty sure that they wouldn’t be there that long.
This boil’s gonna come to a head before then
, he thought.
Injuns ain’t got that much patience.
    They discussed the possibility of trying to sneak out of their trap after dark. It might be their only chance. But they would be on foot, since their horses—those that weren’t lying dead on the canyon floor—had all wandered toward the mouth of the canyon into the waiting arms of the Sioux. If they were successful in slipping by the Indians, then it would be a dangerous game of hide-and-seek—and with a woman it would be that much more difficult to escape the Sioux