U. S. Marshal
by Alvin W. McCarty

U.S. Marshal Mike Bell was astride his big appaloosa morgan mix gelding. Mike had named the strong horse, Buck. He had trained the horse well and Buck acted like a big dog. The marshal was also leading a pack mule. There was trouble in Tonto Basin and he was needed without delay.

Mike was dressed in well-tanned buckskin. This was how he got the nickname "Buckskin Mike". He was wearing a coat, that he had received from an old Sioux Indian. The coat was made from buffalo hide and he was sporting dark leather chaps.

The dark black and grey clouds were coming in from the northwest and the temperature had dropped ten degrees or so in the last hour. The chilled wind was blowing strong from the North. "Well, Buck," he said, "It's gonna snow soon, so we oughta find shelter. I know just the place." They had been riding on the back side of a long hog back. He turned Buck to the right and went up and over and then down the other side to the sandy wash at the bottom. He turned up the wash, put his heels to the horse's flanks, and trotted along the arroyo. It began to snow big, soft, wet flakes.

Two miles further along, he smelled wood smoke and came to old Pete Maxwell's ranch. "Pete!" he yelled out. Mike had stopped Buck twenty feet from the door but stayed in the saddle. This was the proper etiquette at that time. Pete came out from behind the wood pile holding a shotgun. The front door swung open and Pete's new Indian wife, Sue, stood there with a shotgun of her own. A young man, Jake, that looked about seventeen, came out from behind a tree. He carried a Winchester rifle.

"Hey Pete, it is me Buckskin Mike, what the Hell is going on here?" Mike asked.

"Let's go in and get some coffee," Pete responded.

It was snowing harder and had turned colder. Jake took Buck by the reins and led the big horse to the barn for care. We all headed to the house. "Apaches," the old man began. "I was getting water for Sue when I saw this lone horseman on the west ridge. I made it out 400 to 450 yards. My boy Jake, was with me, has eyes like a hawk, said it was an Apache, who wore a black shirt and rode a black horse. The Apache sat there for maybe fifteen minutes, and then he took off to the north".

"Do you think he would double back?" Mike asked.

"No" replied Sue. "He will go to San Carlos to get out of the storm. He has friends there."

Mike noticed the large amount of food Sue was cooking. "Why all the grub, Sue?" he asked.

"Old Wolf will be here soon," replied Sue.

Seeing the confused look on Mike's face, Pete grinned. "Sue is a Medicine Woman. She has the gift to see things and know things that will happen. She is the reason we don't have Apache trouble," Pete said.

The door swung open and Jake came in. His hat and coat were covered in snow. "Pretty soon you won't be able to see the house," he said.

"We better bring in wood and water. Old Wolf will be here soon," was Sue's response.

The men bundled up and went out to do the chores. As the men were finishing their task, they heard a yell from the arroyo. Pete quickly stepped into the house, grabbed his shotgun, and went outside. He fired two shots into the air. Sue came out of the house and handed Mike a lantern. Soon, two ghostly figures came slowly into view. Old Wolf had someone with him. Both men were wounded and needed help to get down from their saddles.

"Black Crow shoot us," whispered Tom. It was Tom, Old Wolf's son. Mike and Jake took their horses to the barn for shelter and care. When they started back, they had a hard time seeing the house through the whiteout conditions.

While Mike and Jake were in the barn, Sue cleaned and dressed the Indians' wounds. They were not serious injuries. She then gave each man a hand-woven blanket to stay warm and a bowl of hot and spicy chili con carne, which they devoured like a pack of wolves, along with lots of hot black coffee and sugar. Mike and Jake returned and joined the feast. In between gulps, Mike asked, "Who is Black Crow?" Old Wolf took a big sip of coffee and began his story.

"Black Crow is a young man of twenty summers. He went to the school in Phoenix. He is very smart in White Man's ways. He is loco in the head. He is crazy. He tells The People he is God. He says he will raise the dead and drive out the White Man. He will take anything or any woman he wants.

"Early this morning, he rode into the village. He went to the lodge of Two Pony and tried to take the eldest daughter, Bright Star. Bright Star was trying to fight him off. Two Pony jumped in to protect his only daughter. Black Crow pulled his knife and stabbed Two Pony and cut Bright Star. Both were alive when he left.

"Tom and I tracked him until the wind and snow wiped out any sign. We were on our way back, rounding a bend in the trail and ran into Black Crow and two renegades he had with him." Old Wolf paused, head down as if picturing the scene.

Tom took over the story as his father was getting tired. "Now, I can tell you things were hot and heavy. Many shots fired in short time. Bullet hit rock near Father's face. Many cuts. Much blood. I catch bullet in leg. It go through. Not too bad. Hit one renegade in shoulder. All I see. Big storm come quick," Tom continued. "Get very cold. Much snow up high. Maybe we go to God? Father sing Death Song. Die soon, I think."

While Tom was telling his story, Sue was seated in her rocking chair with her eyes closed. Pete said in a quiet voice, "She is having a vision. Please don't talk."

In a short time, Sue said in a whisper, "Old Wolf will see Sun Spirit soon".

Old Wolf was sitting quietly, eyes closed as the men sat around the fireplace smoking. Mike started talking.

"Boys, I was headed for Tonto Basin, but we have to stop Black Crow. You were right, Tom. He is just plain loco."

"Dog Town," said Sue.

Mike looked at Sue and acknowledged her. He then said "If we don't have more than two feet of snow on the ground, we should be able to make San Carlos tomorrow. Tom, will you come with me? You are the one who knows what Black Crow looks like."

It was an hour before sun up as the two men rode out of the ranch yard. Each man was leading a spare horse. Sue had filled their saddle bags with supplies. Taking the trail for San Carlos, neither man spoke for a long time. With only about two feet of snow, they had made good time. "We'll stop at the bottom of Butcher Pass and change the horses," said Mike as he stretched his back, legs, arms and shoulders.

Tom grinned at Mike and said, "Getting a bit old for this kind of work?"

Mike just shook his head.

As they climbed the pass, the snow got deeper. The horses were laboring hard. At the summit, the wind had scoured most of the snow away. Now it was only a foot deep on the San Carlos side of the mountains.

It was a little after twelve when they rode into the main courtyard at San Carlos. They dismounted and went into the Indian Agent's office. The man was a smart and honest fellow named Dave Wade. After pleasantries were exchanged, Mike and Tom told the entire Black Crow story. While the men were talking, Big Nose, the head of Apache scouts, came to the door and Dave waved him in. Big Nose, like most Apaches, was a small man weighing 110 pounds or so and standing about five foot five. By the look on the Indian's face, they knew there was big trouble ahead.

Big Nose spoke in Apache and Dave translated. Big Nose had a spy in Dog Town who hated Black Crow and kept the scout informed of what was going on. The spy had been in touch earlier that day. He reported that Black Crow and eleven warriors were going to attack the White Mountain tribe when the sun touches Elk Peak. He must be stopped!

Big Nose was able to round up three old warriors and two teenage boys. Dave wrote a note to the small army post that was four miles upriver and sent the youngest boy to make the delivery to the post. He gave the older boy verbal instructions and sent him to the White Mountain camp. Mike called his small posse together to deputize them. The group of seven men rode out of San Carlos heading for Dog Town. They were very well armed.

Mike rode relaxed and easy in the saddle. Dave could not hide the tension in his face. Tom and Big Nose appeared unconcerned, but their eyes were always moving. At the back of the posse, three old warriors were laughing and joking. For them, today was a good day to die. Soon they would go over the sun. They would die as warriors not old men. "Ya-ta-hay Sun Spirit!" they exclaimed. Then they sang their Death Songs.

Stopping half a mile from Dog Town the men had the wind in their face so the dogs wouldn't smell them approaching. Mike handed his binoculars to Big Nose and sent him to scout up ahead. Big Nose returned quickly. He drew the village plan in the dirt. The diagram showed where the wickiups were and where the warriors were gathered. A group of young braves were resting with only two guns showing and were bragging about their heroism in the coming fight. The renegades had their wickieup on the other side of the village and had one rifle showing.

Mike silently pointed to where the young warriors were. He then pointed to Dave and the three old warriors. The old men just smiled. Mike then pointed to himself, then Tom and Big Nose. He pointed to the location of the two renegades. The two Indians nodded their understanding. The posse mounted. Mike whispered, "No shooting women or children and no yelling until I do. We want to get close." At one hundred yards, Mike gave out a mighty whoop and the posse charged. Shots were fired, dust flew!

It was a total surprise. The young Indian braves just sat there with startled looks on their faces. That was all the time the posse needed to be in the middle of the young warriors, their Colt revolvers speaking a deadly message to the young men.

When the dust and smoke cleared, seven young warriors lay dead or dying. Two of the old warriors lay dead on the ground. The third warrior was dying still seated in his saddle slumped over the pommel. Dave, who was unhurt, rushed to his side. The old warrior looked at Dave and said in a weak voice, "Tell our People the brothers died as warriors." He then fell from the saddle dead. There had been five guns, not two.

Mike, Tom and Big Nose had no trouble with the renegades. The fight had lasted maybe 20 seconds. The renegades had been drinking since noon and were drunk. It was over! The renegades were dead! But where was Black Crow?

Mike caught sight of an Indian dressed in a black shirt mounting a black horse and riding hard away. Mike turned Buck to follow and said to the big horse, "Catch 'em Buck!" Black Crow turned in the saddle and emptied his six-gun with wild shots. Black Crow's horse was no match for Buck, now just feet behind the Indian's black horse. Black Crow, who was looking down trying to reload the revolver, never saw the limb that hit him in the neck. He did a back flip out of the saddle and landed head first in a bed of large rocks. He was dead when Mike got to him. His neck was broken.

Soon, the army rode onto the scene. There was a sergeant and ten troopers. "Well Marshal, looks like we missed the party. I see you got that crazy Indian. Things will be much better with him gone. If you don't mind, we will take it from here," said the sergeant.

The four men returned to San Carlos. Marshal Mike and Dave completed the paper work. Tom and Big Nose could not help with the writing of reports and went off to cohort with the other Indians.

Mike enjoyed a home cooked meal at Dave's house and spent the night. It was two hours after sun up when Tom came dragging in looking worse for the wear. It took an hour to get saddled and packed and on the trail back to Pete's ranch. The sun was just setting as they pulled into the yard. Pete met them at the barn. As the men put away the horses, Pete filled them in on what happened at the ranch while they were gone. "Old Wolf died an hour after you two left. Jake and I rolled him in a blanket and tied him on his horse. Sue took him home."

Mike turned to the west and watched as the sun dropped below the ridge line. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and smiled. He thought he heard a wolf howling in the distance.

The End

Watch for more adventures of U. S. Marshal "Buckskin Mike" Bell coming up!