Chapter 3
Four days later the three were a day's travel from Salem. Charles' wound was healing quickly and the two men enjoyed riding beside each other catching up on the twelve years that had passed since they'd parted company just west of the mountains. Justina rode ahead of them, silent for hours. As Charles' wound healed he insisted on taking his turn as camp guard, allowing Mingo to sleep enough to satisfy his need to keep alert. On the fourth night the crickets stopped suddenly. Charles nudged Mingo's foot and the Cherokee was instantly awake. He grasped his rifle and pointed his body the opposite way from Charles. The sky was brightening in the east as the morning approached.
"We will be a target very soon if we don't move now." Mingo's voice was just above a whisper.
Charles rolled silently to Justina and placed his hand over her mouth. His touch caused the young woman to startle awake. Charles whispered to her, and the two crawled as silently as possible to Mingo's side. The two men indicated that Justina was to crawl into the nearby forest. She obeyed silently and soon disappeared into the shadows. Mingo and Charles crawled side by side after her. They carefully stood, using trees to shield their bodies. Mingo gestured and Charles nodded. The two men split up, searching for Justina. Charles found her and gave a horned owl call. Mingo answered in kind.
Charles found a small brushy area and pushed Justina behind it. Minutes later Mingo found them. Mingo knelt beside the woman and whispered to her. "Stay where you are, no matter what happens. Understand?"
She nodded silently, then pulled his face down to hers. "Thank you. For what you and Charles are doin', and for what you done already. I owe you both. You and him be careful now. Horace and Oscar are meaner'n a rattlesnake and just as quick. They'll kill you both an' enjoy doin' it. Mind what I say." Unconsciously she stroked her scared cheek. Mingo saw the gesture and understood her meaning. The two men would make his death as horrible as possible. Charles' too. And then they would take her.
Mingo crawled to Charles' side. He leaned close to the small frontiersman and whispered into his ear. "Charles, take Justina and get as far away as you can. Go now."
Charles grabbed Mingo's arm, shaking his head fiercely. "I ain't about to leave you, 'n you know it. Them two what's follerin' us'll shoot you, then cut you to pieces. I seen others like 'em before."
Mingo smiled. "So have I, Charles. Please do as I ask. I will be much more likely to defeat them if I know that you and Justina are safe. I need to be able to concentrate on them." Mingo's dark eyes held Charles' eyes for several seconds. Then Charles nodded his head and slipped silently through the forest. He returned with Justina behind him.
Leaning close, Charles whispered. "You show 'em no mercy, Mingo, or they'll kill you. Mind what I'm sayin'. Unless'n you've changed your coat, you're a man with a conscience and they'll use that agin you if they can. You're worth a whole bushel o' men like they is. Don't give 'em ary chance to use your good heart agin you. I won't be far."
Charles squeezed Mingo's arm, then slipped silently through the trees with Justina behind him.
Mingo checked his rifle, then leaned it against a nearby tree. He stretched his lean body, flexing his muscled arms and legs to limber his body in readiness for the coming fight. Then he grasped his rifle, climbed a large oak and waited.
Only minutes later he spotted Horace and Oscar slipping through the trees. The two little boys were several paces behind the men, leading two winded horses. Mingo sat and watched them until they came within twenty feet of his tree. Then he cocked the hammer on his rifle and carefully took aim.
"Stop unless you want a ball through your head." Mingo's voice echoed strongly through the morning air. Startled, Oscar and Horace froze. Then Horace accepted Mingo's challenge.
"Up a tree, you cowardly redskin? Where's your little white brother?"
Mingo's voice responded from the leafy veil above them. "Lay down your rifles. I am willing to face you both, man to man, and discover who is the coward. Are you willing to accept my challenge, or are you too yellow to fight me as a man?"
Mingo's words hung in the air as the too brutal men thought about his challenge. High in the oak Mingo prayed his gamble would accomplish the results he so desperately sought. He knew that men who were determined to kill would do anything to that end, and honor meant nothing to them. He was hoping that their thirst for brutality would cause them to make a mistake that he could capitalize upon.
Oscar and Horace exchanged a long look. Mingo saw the expression on their faces, cruel and dark with the lust to kill. An uncontrollable shudder passed through his lean body. He threw down another challenge.
"I will fight both of you at once. Surely you have enough faith in yourselves to accept that condition."
The two men grinned at each other, then leaned their rifles against a tree.
"Back away thirty feet and turn your backs. I will climb down and we will begin. I do expect you to allow me to fully descend before you attack me. Else there will be little sport in killing me, wouldn't you say?"
"Come on down, Injun. We won't jump ya. We want to enjoy beatin' the feathers outa ya. We want ya to feel ever' blow we give ya. We won't shoot ya."
Mingo carefully climbed out of the oak, balancing his rifle in the lowest branches of the tree. He then strode to the other two rifles and dumped the powder from the frizzen pans. He propped the rifles behind the tree. The two large men turned as one and faced their adversary.
Calmly Mingo uncoiled his whip. The two men smiled menacingly and split apart, intending to attack Mingo from two sides. As Mingo watched them circle toward him, his gaze fell upon the two little boys standing frozen only fifty feet away.
"Stop! Your boys are behind you, watching."
Horace laughed mirthlessly. "How you expect 'em to learn how to kill Injuns iffen they don't watch? You're their first lesson. I'm countin' on ya to make a good 'un."
Oscar guffawed and sprang toward Mingo's body from the left, his knife drawn. Mingo whirled and snapped his whip, catching Oscar's unguarded left ear. The whip sliced the soft tissue away from the man's head as cleanly as if it had been removed with a knife. Oscar's scream echoed off the surrounding trees as he dropped his knife and clutched the bleeding stump. Horace swiftly made an attack on Mingo's right.
The Cherokee allowed his momentum to propel him full circle as he snapped his wrist and sent the lash whistling to likewise maim Horace Radler. But unlike his brother Horace continued his attack, bellowing like a bull as the blood spurted from the stump of his left ear. Mingo leaped backwards, spun around a tree and snapped his whip behind Horace, the tassels catching the back of the husky man's upper arm. Instantly a long red furrow opened through the faded green calico.
Oscar had recovered enough to grab his empty rifle and swing it like a club at Mingo's head. From the corner of his eye Mingo saw the motion and again leaped backward, ducking at the same time. His whip caught the long rifle barrel and he jerked the weapon from Oscar's bloody hands. Horace used the opportunity to leap at Mingo's back with his knife, but the Cherokee swung the entangled rifle and struck his opponent in the side of the head with the long metal barrel. Horace dropped like a rock at Mingo's feet.
Swiftly Mingo disentangled the rifle from his whip as he dodged sideways through the trees. He circled quickly around an ancient elm and caught Oscar under the chin with the whip's tassel. A furrow several inches long split under the bone and sprayed blood on Oscar's throat and shirt front. Mingo spun on his heel and laid the rifle barrel against Oscar's head, the force of the blow knocking Oscar several feet through the air.
Horace regained his feet and attacked Mingo's back again. Hearing the rushing footsteps behind him Mingo whirled and caught Horace around the throat with his whip. Mingo stepped behind the struggling man and jerked backward. Pulling the cursing man to his body, he kneed Horace in the back. Horace screamed as his right short rib broke free. Mingo pushed him away just as Oscar regained his feet. The two brothers fell together, Oscar struggling to get at Mingo and Horace writhing on the ground in pain.
Bellowing in rage, Oscar lunged at Mingo's throat with his knife. Mingo again spun away and the whip curled around the other man's knife hand. With a jerk Mingo brought that hand close to his body and chopped down hard with his left hand. Oscar dropped the knife but pulled on the whip, drawing Mingo close. He punched the Cherokee hard on the jaw, causing his head to snap back with the force. The two fell as Mingo lurched backward, pulling his adversary with him. He rolled with the large body, jumped to his feet and again snapped his whip. Quick as a striking snake the leather tassels bit into the other man's face, slicing his cheek and causing the blood to pour down his thick neck. A string of curses poured out of his mouth and Mingo flicked his whip to split the foul man's lips.
Suddenly he felt himself being squeezed by two burly arms. Horace had regained his feet and grabbed Mingo around the body. The two grappled together for several seconds, Mingo tall and strong, Horace heavy and low to the ground. The whip was caught between Mingo's body and Horace's arms.
Mingo quickly leaned forward, then jabbed his elbow into the other man's ribs. With a tremor the heavy arms loosened and Mingo slipped away, turned and sent the whip's coils hissing through the air to wrap around Horace's legs. Mingo pulled the other man off his feet. He head hit a large sycamore, then he landed hard. This time Horace lay where he was.
Oscar saw his chance and slashed for Mingo's unprotected chest with his recovered knife. But Mingo had seen the strike and leaped backward just in time. Off balance once again, Oscar was easily tripped as Mingo kicked him in the knee. He fell forward and rolled. Mingo stopped the roll with his foot, then as he had done only days before, pressed his heel down with ever increasing pressure on the other man's inner leg close to the groin.
"Lie still and I will go no farther. Struggle, and I will press harder." Mingo's voice gave no doubt of his meaning, and Oscar Radler lay completely still, breathing hard and cursing through his bloody lips. "Stop cursing," Mingo demanded as he pressed down harder. Oscar tightened his bleeding lips and did as Mingo directed.
Through the trees Charles ran to tie the unconscious Horace Radler to the large sycamore that had felled him. Then the slight frontiersman bound the docile Oscar Radler's hands and feet. Mingo released the pressure and Charles pulled the heavy man upright. Oscar pushed Charles and lunged at Mingo, but the tall Cherokee was ready for just such an action and clubbed the enraged man over the head with the loaded butt of his whip. Now unconscious Oscar lay beside his similarly unconscious brother Horace.
Silently from the forest Justina slipped to her husband's side. She stared at his unconscious face, then reached for Oscar's knife lying inches away. Dispassionately she carved two parallel lines down his unconscious face. When Charles moved to stop her Mingo reached out a restraining hand. With set lips and burning eyes he watched as the abused woman carved three sets of lines down the heavy man's face.
"Charles, it is his due. He wanted Justina to always remember his brutal ways, and now he will have a like reminder. I see it as complete justice, and I won't let you interfere."
Justina repeated the action on Oscar's slack face, then she stood and threw the knife as far away as she could. She burst into tears and stood sobbing for all the bitter times that she couldn't. As the two men watched compassionately she cried for Ladybug and Pearl, for the two silent boys and for her own wasted years. Mingo silently stooped and built a small fire as Charles went to comfort the sobbing woman. He allowed it to burn for several minutes, then shoved the burning sticks aside and rubbed the blackened ends into the palm of his left hand. He squatted beside the still unconscious Oscar and rubbed the dark ash into the brutal man's bleeding cuts. He repeated the action on Horace's bleeding face. Charles watched as his mind tried to reconcile the tall silent man before him with the naïve, eager youth he had known years before. Finally he turned away and walked into the forest to quiet his pounding heart.
When Charles returned he found Justina sitting beside the fire drinking a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Beside her sat the two silent little boys. Mingo wrapped their thin shoulders in his own blanket as the cool of the evening settled over the wilderness. Charles had a turkey in his hand and quickly cleaned the bird to roast over the small fire. Mingo cut a small sapling to use as a spit. Soon the fragrance of roasting turkey filled the immediate area.
Horace was the first to regain consciousness. Charles saw his head come up and nudged Mingo. The tall Cherokee strode to his opponent's side and stood looking down on the ruined face.
"Horace Radler, you have been punished for your years of brutality. So has your brother. Charles Hays, Justina Radler and I will continue into Salem and press charges against you two. If I were you, I'd disappear into this wilderness and never show your face in civilized society again. You are branded as the cowards that you are. You bear the marks for all to see. They will remain until your life ends as a reminder of your bloody deeds. We will leave you both tied. I suggest that you free yourselves before the animal predators find you and make your last moments a living hell."
Mingo spun on his heel and rejoined his friends at the fire. Deep in the forest they could all hear the eerie howls. The two boys shivered and leaned against Justina. Beside them Charles Hays lay his arm over their shoulders. His hand brushed Justina's arm and she turned to look at him. His warm smile brought a halting response. As she continued to look into Charles' light eyes her smile grew. Mingo saw it all and smiled to himself.
The next day the three people did as Mingo had promised. After the constable had taken the sworn statements Mingo, Charles, Justina and the boys stood on the sidewalk to say goodbye. Charles grasped Mingo's hand firmly, his light blue eyes sparkling. Beside him Justina held the little boy's hand. The older boy stood at Charles' left elbow.
"Mingo, I've thought o' you now an' agin', wonderin' how you made out. I won't wonder no more 'cause I can see that you growed into a man o' pride. I admire the way you took them two no-accounts down. It were a sight to see. And you give me a story to tell for the rest o' my life. I hope you have a long string o' stories ahead o' you."
Mingo smiled. "I hope the same for you Charles." He nodded to Justina. "And you have the chance at a long life too Justina. Now you can be the woman you want to be."
Justina smiled fully for the first time since Mingo had known her. Her hazel eyes were no longer filled with anger and despair. Mingo raised his hand in farewell, then strode down the Salem street toward the west and home. Behind him four people, beginning their new lives, watched his figure grow smaller and disappear into the surrounding Carolina forest. And somewhere in that dark forest two brutal men were free.