The Spirit of Iron Eyes (7 page)

Could that be it?

Had the Apache only stopped fighting because
they had already destroyed their enemy? Would they turn their
rifles upon him once he turned up?

He swallowed hard and tapped his spurs
again.

The black gelding started to canter as its
master continued to brood.

Tom Quaid still had a million questions
filling his mind as his mount gathered pace. The trouble was, he
now had a million answers too.

Which one was right?

He knew that he would find out when he
reached the high moonlit ridge. Until then, he could do nothing
except ride.

Iron Eyes had watched the moon move across
the heavens and knew that it must be more than an hour since the
Apache had stopped attacking him. They were still down there amid
the brush and rocks. He could smell the food they were cooking even
though he could not make out where their camp-fire was. Yet Iron
Eyes was seldom hungry at the best of times, and this was far from
being the best of times. Only one thought filled his mind as
droplets of blood continued to drip from the limp strands of his
long hair: was it possible to escape? Nothing had ever defeated him
before, but this time he knew that he was in a pretty tight spot.
Since the Apache had stopped their attack he had used up the
seemingly eternal time to good purpose. He had used the razor-sharp
edge of his knife to trim all the cigar fragments he had found in
his pockets into a score of smaller smokes.

And he had waited.

Waited to see if the Indians
were trying to fool
him into thinking that they would not fight during the
night. So far they had not tried to do anything and the bounty
hunter began to believe that he was safe until sunrise. He gripped
one of the cigar trimmings in his teeth and looked around the cave
as the moonlight crept deeper into it. The cave was like a tomb. A
burial place waiting for a corpse to fill its large belly. Iron
Eyes had no intention of being that corpse.

When the sun had set he had wondered if it
were possible for him to climb down from the high cave, steal one
of the Apache ponies and make his escape. It had been a idea which
had soon evaporated when the large bright moon had risen over the
prairie to replace the blazing sun.

The moon was big and bright and
there wasn
’t
a cloud in the sky that might give him cover.

Iron Eyes knew there was no escape using the
same route that had brought him to this high vantage point. The
haunting blue moonlight ensured that he remained inside the
cave.

The Indians had been strangely silent since
darkness had swept over the ridge and prairie. Yet they were still
down there amid the brush and rocks. Now though he could hear the
chilling sound of their chanting voices drifting on the warm night
air.

Iron Eyes knew that they were singing to
their gods.

Like the bounty hunter, they were still wide
awake.

Awake and watching the mouth of the
cave.

But unlike the Apache, Iron Eyes had no gods
to turn to and pray to for help. He was alone, as he had always
been. Alone with only his own demons for company.

Iron Eyes knew that there were no more than
seven hours of darkness at this time of the year and at least one
of them had already come and gone.

He rose to his feet and felt the roof of the
cave touch his tender scalp. He stooped and moved deeper into the
cave trying to work out how far it went into the ridge.

Could this be a tunnel which
actually went right the way through the sand-
colored rock?

Iron Eyes found his matches again, struck
one on the cave wall and stared deeper into the dark natural
tunnel. It seemed to go on for quite a long way. The match went out
when its flame seemed to catch a small draught.

The bounty hunter was curious.

He ignited another match with his thumbnail
and held it ahead of him toward the back of cave.

Again the flame was blown out.

Iron Eyes knew that there was a gentle
breeze blowing through the cave from somewhere far into the ridge
of sandy stone. Was there a way out of here?

There had to be, he surmised. Fresh air did
not come out of the bowels of the earth. But it did flow through
tunnels.

The tall man returned to his
coat and guns. He
scooped the coat off the ground and put it on before
picking up his prized Navy Colts and tucking them into his belt. He
knelt and picked up every one of the bullets and dropped them into
his deep pockets, then he placed the Apache water bag on his left
shoulder.

Placing another of his small trimmed cigars
between his teeth, Iron Eyes started to walk carefully towards the
rear of the cave with his arms outstretched. He knew that he needed
a torch to guide him but the cave had nothing in it but dust.

Sweat and blood ran down his face and
dripped from the jaw of the tall man as he felt his way further and
further into the blackness.

It was so dark that Iron Eyes felt as if he
were totally blind. Without sight, he had to rely upon his other
senses to guide him.

There seemed to be no reason
for it but the walls of the cave seemed to be getting warmer the
deeper he went into the black tunnel. Maybe the rocks had absorbed
every ounce of the blazing sun
’s heat during the day and it was only after
sunset that the sand-colored stone was able to release it, he
thought.

With every step of his long
legs Iron Eyes knew that he was probably venturing into a place
where no other living man had ever gone before. The rocks felt
warmer as his hands groped along their rough surfaces. He could
hear water dripping far ahead of him and smell the scent of air as
it traced past his flared nostrils. Even his scarred skin
could
sense
the touch of a gentle breeze.

Iron Eyes wondered why this should be. If
there was a way out of this cave somewhere down the tunnel, why was
there no light to be seen?

Again he caught the scent of fresh prairie
air mixed with the warm stale cave air which surrounded him.

Somewhere there was an opening that was
allowing air to flow through the cave tunnel.

He had to keep going until he found that
opening. Iron Eyes hoped that when he eventually reached it, it
would be big enough for him to squeeze through and escape.

The tunnel seemed to drop away from him.
Carefully, the bounty hunter felt his way down a steep incline.
Then the cave floor appeared to level out again. He continued
groping his way slowly along the black passage of stone. Again the
ground beneath his mule-ear boots fell away and he had to cling to
either side of the cave walls just to maintain his balance. Iron
Eyes slid for more than ten feet on his side until his boots felt
the ground beneath them once more. He stood and began walking
again.

No wonder he could not see the other cave
mouth, he thought. It must be on a far lower level.

The cool breeze was stronger
now and grew even stronger with every step that he took. Iron Eyes
adjusted the water bag on his shoulder and realized that there was
now far more head room above him. He carried on making his way
along
the
black tunnel until once more he sensed that he was moving down
another steep incline.

Step after step he managed to find his way
down to the next level part of the cave floor. He stopped and
rested for a few moments and lowered the water bag from his
shoulder. He pulled its stopper and drank. The cold water refreshed
him enough to make him aware that there was something in the
tunnel.

Suddenly, a chilling sound filled his
ears.

A sound that he recognized.

Iron Eyes lowered the water bag and dropped
it next to his left leg as he listened. His eyes tried desperately
to see but it was just too dark. Even his keen eyes could not
locate the thing that had frozen him to the spot.

Again the sound echoed around the cave
walls.

There was no mistaking it.

The rattle began to grow louder.

‘
Rattler!’ he whispered under his breath. He had lost count
of how many times he had bumped into the strange unpredictable
creatures in the past. But this was the first time that he had been
unable to see the deadly viper who warned its prey with the rattle
at the end of its vibrating tail.

Iron Eyes lowered his right arm from off the
rough wall surface and moved it slowly towards the pistol grips
that poked out from his belt.

His long bony fingers wrapped
around one of the handles of his matched Navy Colts and began to
pull it free of his belt. As its barrel cleared the
belt, the sound
grew even louder.

The sound of the
sidewinder
’s
rattle was now furious.

Iron Eyes cocked the gun hammer until it
fully locked, then he desperately used his ears to try and locate
the poisonous snake. He thought about the matches in his shirt
pocket. If he were to ignite one, he might be able to see his
target. But he knew that a rattler could strike out far faster than
it would take his own eyes to adjust.

Sweat dripped from his face as if someone
had poured a canteen of water over his head. Iron Eyes knew that
the snake was ready to strike. It had to be coiled if its rattle
was making so much noise. A moving sidewinder was usually
silent.

The barrel of his gun swayed back and forth
as he blindly searched for the deadly viper.

With only the noisy tail of the snake to
guide him, Iron Eyes had to try and work out where its head might
be. All he could tell for certain was that the snake was close.

Too close.

He gritted his teeth and bit through the
unlit cigar. He knew that he had to try and kill this creature with
his first shot, for once the bullet left the barrel the blinding
light would most probably make the rattler strike.

Angry snakes always struck out at their
enemies.

Iron Eyes tried to ignore the
sound of his pounding heart as it beat frantically inside his
painfully
thin frame. He concentrated on the sound of the rattler and
tried to aim the gun at it.

He inhaled deeply. Held his breath and
fired.

The white explosion of light blinded the
bounty hunter and the sound as the firing pin hit the bullet was
deafening.

Frantically Iron Eyes cocked
the hammer again and listened hard for the snake
’s rattle. He could hear
nothing above the ringing in his ears. Wherever the sidewinder was,
he was going to taste more lead, the bounty hunter
thought.

He fired again and again in a desperate bid
to kill the unseen snake.

When the ringing in his ears eventually
stopped, Iron Eyes strained to hear the sound of the tail. There
was nothing but silence.

Sweat and blood continued to
seep from his scalp into the darkness as he licked his dry lips in
a vain attempt to rid his mouth of the bitter taste of
gun
smoke.

Had he succeeded in killing the snake?

It was possible considering
that he had tried to group his bullets tightly in the general
direction that he thought the sound of the
sidewinder
’s
tail had come from.

But had he hit it?

Perhaps he had only frightened it away to
lie in wait for him further into the black cave tunnel! The thought
troubled the tall crouching figure.

He inhaled deeply and decided
that nothing would be gained by remaining here. He had to carry on
and try and find out where the gentle
draught of cool night air was coming
from.

Iron Eyes bent his knees and
groped for the water bag
’s neck until he located it beside his leg. He
slowly straightened, up and placed the cool bag over his broad left
shoulder.

He must have hit it, he thought. Even
without the sense of sight, he had killed too many things to
suddenly lose the honed knack of bringing death to his chosen
prey.

The gentle breeze hit his face again and
made him look straight ahead into the impenetrable darkness. It was
stronger now and he could smell the scent of sagebrush. He was
close to his goal.

Cautiously he moved his right
leg forward to continue his search for the elusive cave mouth exit.
It had only gone a matter of inches when he felt something hit the
side of his boot. The snake
’s powerful fangs penetrated his boot and sank
deeply into his flesh.

He staggered and fell heavily.
He felt the water bag fall off his shoulder as he twisted on the
sand in the blackness. Pain tore through him. He kicked out his
legs but knew that the rattler
’s fangs were still buried into his calf muscle,
the creature unwilling or unable to release its hold on
him.

It felt as though a million poisonous
needles were racing through his body at exactly the same moment. He
rolled over and over trying to escape the unseen enemy who was
forcing its fangs deeper into his flesh.

His entire body crashed into
the cave wall. For a
brief moment he felt flames burning inside his
guts. It was as if his very soul was being consumed by an inferno
of poison. He scrambled back on to his feet and then grabbed at his
skull as it filled with a legion of bursting colors.

With venom pumping into his leg, Iron Eyes
screamed out in agony.

The sounds of bullets had
alerted the Apache that something was happening in the high cave,
but it was the blood-chilling scream which had echoed out of the
cave mouth high on the moonlit ridge that drew every
Indian
’s
eyes in a mixture of shock and fear.