William

By Michael W. Mountain

“William” is the action packed sequel of “The Saga of the Brothers Mountain.” The fictional tale begins in 1844 as it follows the Mountain family and their journey through the untamed Territory of Wisconsin and into the newly formed State of Minnesota.
The family, originally from the small farming village of Killeagh, in County Cork Ireland, is forced to go into hiding in order to escape the wrath of English landlord Charles Webb. Webb sent mercenaries to America to find and kill the Mountain family as retribution for destroying his compound back in Ireland. In an unexpected turn of events, the Mountain family survived the attack and killed the mercenaries. With the fear of continual reprisal from Webb, the family moved and secretly settled in the newly formed town of Hudson, in Wisconsin Territory.

The Mountain family quickly learned that lawlessness was a prevalent way of life in their new country, America. Instead of finding a peaceful existence, they found nothing but turmoil and potential death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: May 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483430126

Michael W. Mountain

I was born and raised in south Minneapolis. I worked in the securities business for over forty years. After a trip to my family's hometown of Killeagh, Ireland, I became interested in my genealogy. I researched my family background and made the decision that it would be a good fictional book. The first book in the trilogy is, The Saga of the Brothers Mountain. The second book was titled William, followed by WJ American Hero. After completing the trilogy of the Mountain family, I continued to write several other fictional books. The titles of the other books are; Padraig Murphy Semper Fi, The Foster Lake Love Affair, Will Cobb, The One-Armed Gunslinger, Father Mitchell Collins, The Hunt for Kevin Hart, and last but not least, The Legend of Annie Crow.

Book preview

frontier.

CHAPTER 1

The Travel Begins

The Mountain family left in five covered wagons, eleven workhorses, and four riding horses. They left behind all their furniture and all their implements. They had enough food for a month.

The Mountain family members included: William, Anne, adopted thirteen year old daughter Maggie and unborn baby, Patrick. Also, Mark and Margaret Mountain, Patrick, Molly and adopted twelve year old daughter Chewoa and baby James. In addition, SC and Emilia Mountain, and extended family members; Native American Indian Fanny Lewis and her children; five year old Jacob, eight year old Davis and seven year old Emma. They were all accompanied by two dogs, Cy and Ned.

The family headed northwest toward the St. Croix River and the small village of Hudson in Wisconsin Territory. The St. Croix River was supposedly named by Father Hennepin, after he found burial markers at the mouth of the river. St. Croix in French means holy cross. The trip would likely take three to four weeks over some very rough terrain.

After traveling for two days, only stopping for meals and sleep, the family decided they would camp by a small lake and enjoy the scenery for a few days. It was a time of rest and relaxation. William, Maggie and Chewoa hunted for several hours the first day and killed a few rabbits, several quail and two ducks that ventured on shore. Maggie and Chewoa also planned on fishing in the lake they were camped by.

As the sun set on the first day of camping, Patrick and Molly started a raging fire to warm everyone and cook the evening meal. The game the hunters killed was the main course, but was accompanied by canned fruits and vegetables. After dinner William spoke to Fanny for the first time about the death of her husband Lewis at the hands of SC, Patrick and Mark. Lewis had turned against the Mountain family and had instructed the mercenaries sent by Lord Webb to the whereabouts of the Mountain homesteads. After killing Webb’s men, the boys went directly to the Lewis homestead and had a confrontation with Lewis, ending in his death and SC being shot in the thigh. Fanny had known of their plan to remove Lewis from the land and agreed it was the best for all involved. William was concerned about Fanny’s children: Jacob, Davis and Emma and what effect Lewis’s death had on them.

William, with a concerned inflection in his voice, said to Fanny, How are the children taking Lewis’ death? I’m sure they know some of the details, but are they angry at our family over it?

Fanny responded, The only child that is having issues is Davis. He thinks his father was shot down for no reason. He said his pa had so many hardships in his life and just when things were going good, you folks upped and killed him. I’ve tried to explain what really happened, but he will not listen to me. Maybe if you explained everything to him it might change his mind. I think he respects you and is clearly afraid of you.

I would be happy to speak to him. I hope I can make him understand.

William walked around the campfire and found Davis sitting next to Chewoa and Maggie. He asked Davis if he could speak to him in private. Davis got up and followed William out of sight of the others. William began, Davis, your mother told me you are very upset with what happened to your father. I understand you being upset and angry. You think my brothers betrayed him, but that is the furthest thing from the truth as could possibly be. They did ask your father to leave our property and he refused to leave without you children and your mother. Your mother would not go away with him. She was tired of him beating you children and herself. She refused to go. When SC told him to leave without your mother and you kids, he shot SC and my brothers opened fire on him. He died on the spot.

Davis stammered, You… and your…. brothers didn’t like my pa, he told me so. He was afraid of you and thought you’d throw a knife into his heart. My pa lived a hard life. He was a slave, and ran away to freedom. He was beaten and whupped and had the scars to prove it. He did whup us, but he said it was for our own good. It did make me mad when he whupped ma. I tried to get in the way, but he just hit both of us.

William sighed, shook his head back and forth and said, Davis, you all suffered a great deal in your short lives. But, we also suffered a great deal in our lives. I would like to tell you a bit about our background. My mother died delivering me and my father hated me, he thought I was the reason for her death. He beat me daily and I have the scars. I was shot three times and almost died. I was also shot by an arrow and almost died. My brother SC was shot by your father. My cousin Mark was strung up on a tree limb and was whipped. My brother Patrick and Molly were attacked on the ship that brought us here and again when we arrived in New York. My entire family back in Ireland was slaughtered along with all our neighbors. Molly’s family was part of the slaughter too. Maggie’s father was killed in New York by a gang and her mother was forced into being a whore. Poor Maggie was abused and beaten by a gang-lord. Chewoa was shot in the upper leg and was left for dead and her mother and brother died in the massacre. Now, that is just some of our stories, you see we all have our stories and problems, but we cannot let them define who or what we are. You must be a strong young man and take care of your ma and your sister and brother. Don’t let the past dictate your future and be man enough to forgive those that you feel hurt you. Please give us another chance. We are not your enemy, but your new family.

Davis had tears in his eyes as he choked out the words, I know I may have misjudged you. Ma said I was doing so, but I didn’t understand that until now. I’ll still think of my pa, but I now realize why ma couldn’t stay with him. I understand what you’re saying.

William hugged Davis and said, I’m glad we had this talk, I hope we can all move on and not worry about the past, but concentrate on our future.

The family spent three days at their campsite before trudging onward to Hudson.

CHAPTER 2

Chewoa’s Indian Family

The travelers were enjoying the views and the wondrous terrain that Wisconsin Territory had to offer. The stands of trees were extensive as well as magnificent and the wild life was abundant. The dirt tracks the wagons were following were filled with ruts and deep pits making the pace of travel extremely slow. The slow pace did not bother the family as much as the fear that the horses would get injured or a wheel would be torn from its axle. The group stopped often to rest the horses as it appeared they were tiring easily. After traveling only ten miles this first day out following their three days’ rest, Molly and Anne suggested that they stop for the night to rest themselves as well as the horses.

Anne said, Why in the world are we in such a hurry? We have enough food and water and really no place to hurry to. Let’s relax and enjoy this time together before all our work begins again.

They all agreed with Anne’s proposal and a clearing off the dirt path looked like it would be a good place to spend the night. They were certain that the campsite had been used by travelers many times before. A short distance from their site was a small clear pond for water for the horses and for the travelers. William and Mark gathered twigs and small branches to start the fire. Larger branches were brought in after the fire was raging. The ladies prepared the meal of left over rabbit and fowl, along with vegetables and some left over fruit. Both Maggie and Chewoa left after supper to hunt small game in the forest. The two dogs, Cy and Ned, wanted to follow, but the girls shooed them away.

The girls knew enough not to wander too far away from the camp. Maggie remembered all too well the day she was kidnapped by Grey Hawk and his band of renegade Indians. If it were not for William’s determination to find her she would have been lost forever.

The girls had killed two squirrels and were following a very terrified rabbit when out of no where an older Indian appeared from behind a tree. Standing behind him were two other younger Indian braves. All three carried a bow and a quiver full of arrows. Maggie was in panic stage and ready to run when Chewoa calmly grabbed her arm. Chewoa smiled at the men and said in her native language of the Menominee tribe, Black Bear, it’s so good to see you. I didn’t know if you were still alive.

Black Bear addressed Chewoa in the Menominee language also, I am glad to see you, I didn’t know if you survived the attack on your people. We found the remains of the fight, but the clothing belonged to the soldiers not our people. We then found a grave with a cross on it and dug it up. There we found the remains of your people. Your mother, Bena, was buried there. I found her right arm bone, which as you know was deformed. We covered them back up. Was your father, Fox, taken with the whites, or did they kill him?

Chewoa choked back her tears at the mention of her mother and replied, My father was hunting at the time of the battle. My little brother was killed along with my mother, I was wounded, but as you can see I survived. My father knew they would hunt him down, so he left me and went north to elude the soldiers. I am traveling with the Mountain family that came here from another country across vast waterways. They have been kind to me and treat me as one of their family. This is my sister, Maggie, said Chewoa as she pointed at Maggie.

Black Bear smiled at Maggie and said, I think we should all speak in English so your sister Maggie will understand us.

Chewoa also told Black Bear about Fanny and her children that were also traveling with the Mountain family.

Bear asked Chewoa if they could visit their camp and say hello to Fanny. Bear was uncertain whether Chewoa was telling him the truth about being treated well. It was unusual for Indians to be treated well by whites, but even more unusual to be treated like part of the family.

CHAPTER 3

Black Bear Meets the Mountain Family

The walk back to the camp only took a few minutes. Before the group entered the campsite the two dogs Cy and Ned warned the family members intruders were there. They grabbed their weapons and prepared for trouble. After seeing the dogs run toward the girls there was a collective sigh of relief.

Chewoa tried to calm everyone, Please don’t be alarmed; these braves are part of our tribe. They are from the Bear Tribe and this man, Black Bear, was my mother’s brother. They mean us no harm.

Molly stepped forward, smiled and extended her hand to Black Bear to shake. Molly said she was glad to meet Chewoa’s family members and invited all of them for dinner. Bear thanked Molly and said they would be happy to join them.

Patrick came alongside Molly and introduced himself and said, Chewoa is our adopted daughter and we are so fortunate that Fox left her in our care. She is a wonderful young lady and we love her so much.

Chewoa walked over and stood between Molly and Patrick after his comments and held both of their hands.

Bear was impressed by Chewoa’s gesture and smiled at Molly and Patrick while saying, I would imagine that asking if Chewoa could come with me and join her people would not be acceptable to you folks. I can see she is loved and well taken care of, but I must ask her anyway: do you want to come and live the Indian way?

Chewoa responded in the Menominee language, Forgive me Bear, but these people are my family now. My father, the great warrior Fox, asked the Mountain family to take me and raise me as one of their own. They are doing that and I love all of them. This is the best life I could ever have, please understand.

Black Bear just smiled at Chewoa and moved his head up and down, indicating his approval.

The Indians sat in front of the fire and were introduced to all the family. Fanny was last to approach and she shyly nodded hello to the men. Bear stood and walked to Fanny and smiled at her.

Bear called Fanny by her Menominee name, Little Flower, where are your children and is your husband still with you?

Fanny said, Lewis is dead, but my children are fine. The children all lined up and Fanny introduced them.

Bear said they were all fine looking, sturdy and happy children.

Fanny said in the Menominee tongue, You were right, Bear, I should have never married Lewis and left the tribe. After my husband, Wild River, died I was so upset I couldn’t stand life any longer. I thought getting away would be the best for all of us. Sadly I was wrong.

Bear replied, Little Flower, we all make mistakes, but you have three young children now that must be taken care of. Are you ready to join us again, I’m sure everyone including Wild River’s family will welcome you and the children back?

Fanny looked straight into Bear’s eyes without so much as a blink and said, I could never go back to that life. I left that life behind because it reminded me of Wild River and my love for him. I had to move on and I did. Thank you for the offer, but the place for me and my family is with the Mountains. They are good people and we are happy being with them.

Bear said, I had to ask. Our band grows smaller every year and adding you and your children would help restore some of our loss. But I understand.

Anne was confused how Chewoa, Fanny, and Black Bear were all related. She asked Fanny for an explanation of the family tree, if there was one.

Fanny began, First off there were two tribes or clans that the Menominee people belonged to: the Thunderers or the Bears. There was an iron clad rule that if a man or woman was to marry it had to be to a person of the opposite clan or some other tribe. So I was a member of the Thunderers’ clan and my husband was a member of the Bears’ clan. It was an arranged marriage as all marriages are and I was happy to have such a wonderful brave man. Chewoa’s mother was a member of the Bears’ clan, thus she married Fox of the Thunderers’ Clan. Chewoa, if she had remained in her tribe would have married someone in the Bears’ Clan. Women always lived with the husband’s tribe, no exceptions. If a couple married within their clan they were sent out on their own. Remember, in the old days the tribes were very large with over a thousand members in each. Our forefathers realized that inter-tribal marriages produced many unstable children, that is why it was necessary to require marriages outside the tribes.

Anne looked amazed and said, What forethought that took on the elders’ part. They knew something was producing children that were not right, it was in-breeding and they took it upon themselves to correct the problem…. smart people, your elders.

Chewoa and Maggie both looked perplexed, but Chewoa quietly said, What does all that mean? Why couldn’t I marry someone I liked in my own tribe? The thought of marrying someone I did not know would be horrible.

Maggie interjected, That would be gross. Doing the thing that makes babies with someone you don’t even like, that would be more than horrible. It all sounds horrible to me anyway, even with someone you like, oh ish!

Chewoa couldn’t agree more. She pinched her nose as Maggie was expounding her views on sex. The adults all laughed at the girls’ remarks.

Black Bear and his men finished their meal and told their new friends they must be getting back. But before going he wanted the Mountain men to join him in a smoke with his pipe. The pipe was very ornate and was made by Bear himself. Bear told the men that smoking was a act of friendship and he wanted the entire family to know they were all friends now. The Mountains were not accustomed to smoking and all coughed incessantly. The Indians all laughed and said they must be on their way. Their tribe was about eight to ten miles north of the Mountain campsite. Bear was concerned with leaving the tribe short handed in case of an attack.

Before leaving, Black Bear gave the Mountain family some sound advice; never, ever build a raging fire like you’ve been doing at nighttime. All you accomplish by doing that is showing potential enemies where you are. Also, you should post a sentry at all times during the night. Nighttime is the best time to attack, remember that. Be careful with strangers, there are many that will want your women and anything of value you carry. They have no concern for life.

CHAPTER 4

The Fur Traders

After eating breakfast and cleaning up the campsite, the family got off to a late start. As Anne had said, Why should we hurry?

The road took them back into the woods and the going was extremely slow. There had been many spring rains and the footing was treacherous. The horses were slipping and sliding on every small hill. William suggested that they get to open ground as soon as possible to save wear and tear on the horses.

In the late afternoon the road finally turned a bit eastward onto a large expansive prairie. The tracks were easier to follow and there were less ruts to slow them down. However, the sun was beginning to set. The family agreed to stop for the night and rest the horses. Most of the horses were taken out of their harnesses and their front and back legs were tethered.

Molly and baby James were still sitting in their wagon waiting for the horses to be tethered as a rider approached. He was riding a painted horse with a western saddle and had two holsters with six shooters strapped across his chest. He was a dirty man of about forty years of age. He had a full beard and a very full mustache. He wore leather chaps, a dirty red shirt and a wide brimmed hat.

He approached the wagon containing Molly and baby James and introduced himself as Rufus Rainwater, a trapper looking for a place to stay for the night.

He looked at Molly after his introduction and said, Ain’t you a beauty? Just where are you folks headed?

Molly knew better than to give anyone that information, but said, We are traveling toward a place called Minnesota.

Rufus just laughed as some of the other family members congregated near Molly’s wagon. William didn’t like the looks of this character, nor did SC or Mark. Mark left Molly’s wagon and picked up the two flintlock rifles that were in his wagon. Both were loaded and ready to fire. He walked slowly back to the gathering and left the weapons leaning against the wagon, but close by. He noticed SC had his Colt in his belt as did Patrick.

Rufus was getting more daring, You look like a bunch of farmers, would that be the truth? Do you have a little gold or silver you could share with a poor old, down on his luck friend?

Patrick had enough of Rufus’s talk, he said in an irritated tone, Enough, get the hell out of here or you’ll be one sorry son-of-a-bitch! You will get nothing from us, fuck you!

Rufus pulled out the two Colt revolvers from their holsters at the same time and said, You fuckin dirt farmers will pay a hefty price for your cockiness. Your women will bring me and my men great delight as we take turns on them. And lookie, lookie, you have some nice young ones too.

Rufus let out a loud whistle as he turned his head toward where his seven men on horseback were waiting to attack the little campsite.

Rufus screamed, If anyone moves or tries anything stupid, I’ll shoot the women and the kid in the fuckin wagon!

His men were coming at a fast pace and were about three hundred to four hundred yards away when Patrick made his move. Patrick grabbed the Colt from his waist and began to shoot wildly in the direction of Rufus. The first shot hit the horse in the neck, the second hit Rufus in the leg, the third and forth went past Rufus’s head, but the fifth one hit him squarely in the chest. The horse dropped to the ground and was struggling to get back up. Rufus lay wounded by the horse; in all the confusion of the shots being fired at him, he had not fired a shot.

Mark came forward with the flintlocks in both hands and handed one to SC. Fanny however, had other ideas. She grabbed one from Mark and said, After I shoot this rifle, hand me the other and reload the other quickly.

Fanny, with flintlock in hand, told SC to shoot the dying horse. After he did, Fanny got down on her stomach and used the horse as a place to rest her weapon. She took aim and hit the onrushing trapper in the chest. She yelled at Mark, Bring the other!

The intruders had stopped after their lead man had been hit. They were reassessing what to do next when one of the men spurred his horse and headed for the wagons. Fanny had gone over to Molly’s wagon to get a better view of the onrushing outlaws. She told her quickly, Molly, pull the brake handle tightly, and grab the reins and hold them tight too.

Fanny rested the rifle on the rear end of the second horse and fired. The shot hit the man in the right arm as the horse bucked and tried in vain to run away. Fanny grabbed the re-loaded rifle from Mark and went back to the dead horse and rested the rifle on it’s hindquarters. Her shot echoed through the quiet prairie as the ball hit the man in the upper part of his neck. He hunched forward and the horse carried him away.

Rufus lay moaning in severe pain. He yelled at everyone, You fuckin dirt farmers, wait until I heal, I’ll be coming after all of you.

SC walked up calmly and said, No you won’t, and shot him in the head. Blood, brains and bone flew up from his body as the slug entered his head. SC had to duck away to avoid the mess. He smiled and said, You are right Mr. Rufus, we are just a bunch of fuckin dirt farmers.

William reached down and grabbed Rufus’s body by the shirt collar and dragged him into the brush. When he returned he checked to see if everyone was alright. They were.

Mark said to Fanny, Where in the hell did you learn to shoot like that?

Fanny replied sheepishly, When I was married to Wild River, he wanted me to learn to hunt with him. The tribe had three flintlocks, but our braves did not want to use them. They were a sign of weakness, a true warrior used only a bow and arrows. I hunted buffalo with the men. They would stampede the buffalo toward me and two other squaws. We would shoot as many as possible and would also try and kill the buffalo that were charging our men that would be separated from their horses. My husband, Wild River, whose horse had taken a tumble while he was chasing a large bull, was in serious trouble. The animal had stopped in his tracks and turned back and charged Wild River. The bull hit him with his horns and tossed him high in the air. The bull continued gorging him until I rushed to him and shot at the bull. My shot fell short by at least ten yards, I was too far away and I didn’t realize I was out of my rifle’s range. The buffalo then turned and charged me, and I just froze and stood my ground. Out of nowhere several arrows hit the animal and dropped him three feet from me. Wild River was dead and my life changed that day.

CHAPTER 5

The Ambush

William had cut the saddle off Rufus’s dead horse and rummaged through the saddle bags. He was stunned by what he found. In both bags there were several scalps and all were still moist with the blood not completely dried yet. Attached to the saddle horn was a tomahawk and a very decorative Indian pipe. It was clearly Black Bear’s.

William spoke to Fanny and Chewoa about his find. He showed them the pipe and they both broke down in tears. He told them about the scalps, but didn’t show them.

Fanny wiped away her tears and said, Let’s deal with these killers first and then we’ll see what they have done to our people.

Chewoa calmly responded, I hope I have a chance to take a few of their scalps tonight.

Fanny instructed the Mountain family, Molly, Anne, Margaret and Emilia please take all the children and walk a mile or so back in the direction we came from. Please hide there until we finish here. Take two of the revolvers we inherited from Rufus with you just in case. If they get past us don’t be nice, kill them! Chewoa and Maggie you can go with the ladies and children or remain here with us. It's your choice.

Chewoa and Maggie both nodded their heads sideways indicating no, they wouldn’t be leaving.

Fanny took charge. We want to do just what Black Bear told us not to do; we want a raging fire in the middle of the camp. Mark, will you gather some straw from the wagons that we use for our beds and bring them here. SC, gather up all our weapons; you and Patrick load them, as well as the flintlock rifles. Girls, gather up all the clothes you can find along with hats, we’ll stuff them with the straw and make them look like humans. William, as soon as it gets dark, go straight toward where our enemies are camped. Stay out of sight and let them pass when they come for us. We will need you to kill them if they get away from us.

As Mark and the girls were stuffing the clothing with straw, Fanny explained to all the family what their specific jobs would be. William would be in the most dangerous place, out in front where the charge would likely begin. Mark, SC, and Patrick would hide close to the fire, but out of sight under the wagons. They would all be armed with two Colt revolvers apiece. Fanny would place herself in the back, away from the wagons, armed with the flintlocks. The girls would be with her armed with two knives apiece.

Fanny explained, We know two of the eight are dead for sure. We hope that leaves only six. Now, I know for sure I hit that last one twice, he may be out of action, maybe not. Let’s count on six for sure. They should attack from both the front and back. We’ll leave an opening in front between the wagons and the same in back. William, when you leave to get into place, stop by the downed horse and slit its throat and open its belly. Our enemy’s horses will likely balk at the smell of the blood and guts and it may make them jittery and hard to handle. Anything to disrupt these killers. We’ll leave three straw dummies close to the fire, hopefully they will think it is us. Get into your places and don’t move. Let the fire burn down, but don’t go near it. Good luck.

Fanny was correct, they planned on attacking from both front and back. There were only five of them, but they were heavily armed with Colt revolvers and two had flintlock rifles. The rifles were bulky and no use in close fighting.

William had gone straight toward the fur traders’ camp. He was close enough to hear them talking. He wished now he had two of the Colts with him, he could finish this himself right now.

From the voices he heard he could tell the men were upset and worried. He heard one say, They have a goddamn sharpshooter. What wagon train of dirt farmers has a sharpshooter with them? And Rufus, who the hell gets the jump on him, something ain’t right here; it ain’t right!

There was a constant moaning coming from someone in the group. William could tell whomever it was, was injured badly. The men tried to ignore him, but he was clearly making them nervous. One of the group asked if they should just leave well enough alone and get the hell out of here. A second responded that that was not going to happen, that they’d leave in a few minutes, when their fire burns down. He assumed the dirt farmers thought they had licked the traders and were turning in for a nice night’s sleep.

The fur traders mounted up at around eleven o’clock that night, and the new leader told two of them to make a wide swing and enter the camp from the back. The other three would enter from the front. He told them to wait until they heard his gunshot and then charge with their guns out, being prepared to shoot anything that moved.

William lay about thirty yards from the men as they passed. They didn’t talk, they just split up, two going around to the left the other three straight ahead.

As the fur traders approached the campsite they could see three men sleeping close to the fire. They all smiled, drew their revolvers and spurred their horses onward. The horses shied and tried to stop or go in the other direction, the smell of blood and guts had spooked them. The traders spurred them into the opening. Shots rang out from both directions as the men rode into the camp, shooting at everything and anything. They quickly realized that the sleeping men were nothing more than straw dummies. They looked in every direction, but saw no one until SC fired the first shots from his concealed space under a wagon. All the Mountains started shooting. Fanny was resting her weapon on a boulder and was taking aim. She was close to pulling the trigger when her target fell from his horse. She picked another and as she shot her target slumped forward in his saddle. The boys were taking care of the fur traders. One man rode his horse over the campfire and out the back side of the camp. He made it about twenty yards and was struck by two knives and a musket ball. The knife in the chest thrown by Chewoa, and one in the throat thrown by Maggie, the ball compliments of Fanny. The last fur trader in the saddle unfortunately chose to ride out of the camp in the same direction he had come from. He rode close to William’s location and he died in his saddle, with two knifes imbedded into his chest.

CHAPTER 6

Assessment of Damage

William grabbed the reins of the horse of the man he had just killed with his knives. He had already confiscated the dead man’s Colt revolver and holster. He left the man lay where he died and led the horse back to the camp. William shouted before entering the camp to make sure he would not be taken for the enemy. Mark lay stretched out by the fire. Molly and Margaret rushed to his side. He had taken one bullet in the shoulder and a second one in the right side of his lower back. Patrick was shot in the foot, but his boot slowed the bullet down and damage didn’t appear to be too bad. SC was shot in the hand by a ricocheting bullet off a wagon wheel. Chewoa had a deep wound on her forehead that extended to her scalp where a bullet grazed her. She was bleeding but was not in any danger. Maggie appeared to be in good shape, as well as Fanny.

Molly, Anne, Margaret and Emilia all attended to the wounded. Molly was in charge and all the girls did what she said. Everyone was attended to close by the fire. Mark was Molly’s main concern. She had Anne get a bottle of whiskey from her wagon and had Mark take large gulps from the jug. He choked and dry heaved the whiskey, but got enough down. When he was almost out she dug out the bullet in his shoulder and then tried to remove the one in his back, but to no avail. The bullet wound in the back was so deep that Molly could not locate it. It would have to remain in Mark’s back forever. Molly had taken lead balls out of different areas on the body before, but she had no experience removing one lodged so deeply. She took a hot iron and cauterized both wounds and bandaged them up, hoping the bleeding would stop.

Molly had Anne stitch up the wound on SC’s hand. The bullet was not lodged in the hand, it was more of a flesh wound between the thumb and forefinger. Patrick’s foot was bleeding, but the good news was the bullet was lodged just below the skin. It could be removed with little effort. It appeared no bone was broken, but time would tell.

Maggie was comforting Chewoa as Emilia and Margaret stopped the bleeding with a compress. When Molly finally got to Chewoa, which was several hours after the shootout, she was dozing off. Molly stitched what she could to stop the bleeding and then looked over her family and said, Thank God we all survived.

While the women were attending to the wounded, William walked out to the fur traders’ campsite. He carried a Colt revolver with him. When he got to the site he found a severely wounded man. The man could only whisper and told William he could not move either his arms or legs. He asked William to kindly kill him. William agreed, and then shot him in the head. William searched the campsite and found a packhorse loaded with furs and saddle bags that contained gold and silver coins. William was sure the loot came from poor, unsuspecting immigrants like the Mountain family. He also found more scalps in all the saddle bags and he was sure they all belonged to Black Bear’s tribe.

CHAPTER 7

The Bear Tribe Massacre

William counted the number of scalps he found in the saddle bags and on the saddle horns, and they numbered twenty-nine. There were also other artifacts; such as homemade jewelry, finely woven baskets, and more pipes, knives, and tomahawks.

As morning approached, he laid out the scalps and other things he found in the camp and saddle bags. Fanny and Chewoa just stared at the line up.

Fanny shrugged her shoulders and stammered the words, When does this ever stop…? Can people hate more than this?

William answered her question, I’m afraid they can. This exact same thing happened to us in Ireland. All our family and neighbors were slaughtered like these poor Indian folk. I thought things couldn’t get any worse, then this happens. We need to find the bodies of your tribal members so we can bury them.

The family gathered up all the valuables from the traders and stored them in one of the wagons. In all, the Mountains had seven new weapons: all Colt revolvers and plenty of ammunition and two old flintlock rifles. Mark was carried and placed in the back of his wagon with Margaret, and Fanny drove their team. Molly was worried about Mark’s wounds. He was delirious and was