THE NIGHT OF THE MISSING CHILDREN

By Andamogirl

WWW

ACT FOUR

In the mine gallery, much later

Suddenly Artemus jerked awake and immediately screamed, the searing pain of broken bone stabbing into his flesh.

He cracked his eyelids open groggily. Everything hurt. Through a blur he saw Jim's colorless face beside his. He drew a sharp breath. "God… Cold…hurts… Wha… hp'ned?" he croaked.

Jim shrugged out of his dusty coat and covered Artemus with it, and responded, "They dynamited the entrance of the mine gallery to trap us here, burying us alive and there was a cave-in. You were hurt, badly. You have a head injury and your right leg is broken. Black Wolf used an air well to leave. He'll come back with soldiers and a doctor in a few hours."

Eyes fluttering close Artie breathed, "Children?"

Looking at the children huddled together, Jim said, "They're fine. No one was injured." He looked again at his best friend. Artie was trying to move. "No, don't move."

Opening his eyes again, his vision foggy, Artemus whispered, "Help me… help me to sit up." Despite his own coat and Jim's coat covering him, he was shivering with cold sweat.

Jim shook his head. "You're badly hurt, that's not a good idea… you have a broken leg."

Gritting his teeth Artie let out, "I know that. But I don't want to die… with… my face in the dirt. Please." He took a sharp intake of breath readying himself from the coming atrocious pain. "Do it!"

Jim slid his right hand (he was cradling his broken left arm protectively against his chest) beneath Artemus's shoulders and pulled him somewhat upright.

The injured man pinched his eyes shut and howled as pain tore through his body. Then he grunted, a myriad of white spots invading his vision.

Slowly, in the gentlest way possible, Jim propped Artie up against a big rock. "Okay. There…" He reached up, cupping Artie's cheek and lifted the older man's head, swallowing hard as he saw tears streaming in his best friend's bushy beard. "You're going to be okay, Artie," he whispered, trying to reassure and comfort the other man, and himself too.

He placed his coat back on Artie's shoulders and noticed Artemus's eyes were glazed over.

Exhausted, hurting, Artie tilted his head back, whimpering in his throat, then he panted heavily like a fish out water, trying to remember how breathing worked. "No… I'm dying… half of the mine fell on my head… head trauma… bad," he said quietly, drifting into unconsciousness.

Then, his eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged against the rock, his chin resting against his chest and then went utterly limp and collapsed bonelessly to the ground, on his side.

Feeling tears well to his eyes, Jim shook his head. "No, you're not. You're not going to die Artie; the Great Spirit protects you, right?" But he received no reply. "And I protect you too."

Artie's face was deathly pale and his eyes closed shut. He was still, his chest wasn't moving. He touched his throat, feeling for a pulse… and found none.

He put an ear to Artie's mouth. He wasn't breathing.

He gasped in dread. "No!" and shook Artie's shoulder. But the other man didn't react.

Panic rose up again sharp but he refused to let it take control of his mind, again. He drew in a slow, deliberate breaths, trying to keep calm and placed Artie on his back.

In a flash he pushed his coat off of Artie, unbuttoned his best friend's coat, and began loosening Artie's clothing which may interfere with his breathing (his jacket, his belt, his pants button, his tight collar) then he took position next to his partner, at the level of his face.

He moved his hand onto Artie's chin to bend the older man's head back, opening up the airway. After that he pinched Artie's nose closed and lowered his lips to his, breathing into his mouth for a few seconds and watching his stomach and chest rise. He continued the artificial breath until Artie stirred and convulsed suddenly, sucking in a breath, pulling fresh air into his lungs and then releasing it in a low, raspy whine.

Moving his head to the side, Artemus started coughing and sputtering. He pressed one hand to his mouth and started gagging.

Finally, he retched.

Once he was done, Jim hoisted his best friend into a sitting position and brushed his clammy cheek smeared with blood, dust and vomit wiping it on his pants. "You look like hell Artie…but you're back," he said, smiling broadly, immensely relieved.

Eyes fluttering open Artemus flicked his tongue over dry, chapped lips and he rasped, "Sorry… Feel like hell, hot, sick, dizzy, hurt so much … but I won't feel anything soon… 'm gonna die, Jim." He was taking deep painful breaths, and he was struggling to stay conscious. He lost and closed his eyes. "We've had a good run, but it's the end of the road… for me… Take care…," he slurred and his weakening voice died in his throat.

Not accepting that, Jim shook his head. "No you're not! You have survived far worse injuries in the past! It's not a head injury and a broken leg that…" Frowning angrily he shook his partner's shoulder. "Wake up! You're not going to die! I just brought you back! I'm not going to let you die, not now, not ever, understood? You have to fight! Don't die on me! Don't!"

Blinking, Artie felt his muscles grow weaker, tiredness and a numbness beginning to spread relentlessly through his body. "Can't… m' sorry…"

Cupping Artie's hot and sweaty face in his trembling hands Jim pleaded, "Don't do this to me. Don't leave me all alone… please." And felt tears rolling down his stubbled cheeks. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. "Don't die Artie, don't! Hold on. I need you, stay with me!" he said.

Closing his eyes, Artemus could hear the blood pounding in his ears, could hear his heartbeat growing sluggish and he felt heavy. "Jim… forgive me… can't…"

He blinked slowly, confusedly; trying to figure out what was going on and after a moment realized that Jim was slapping his face, hard, relentlessly. He tried to stop him but was too weak to move a single finger. He made an annoyed sound and breathed, "Stop…"

His breathing slowed down, became labored, then it was almost imperceptible.

But Jim didn't stop. Keeping his broken arm pressed against his chest, he continued to slap Artie's face, again and again forgetting that he had a concussion.

It hurt him to hit the older man he loved like he was his own older brother (actually he was his blood brother) but he had to. Artie must stay alive, he thought.

He'd do anything to. Anything, like… And he began pounding his hand into his partner's chest hard enough to leave big bruises. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said seeing Artie grimacing in pain.

Suddenly Artemus grabbed Jim's wrist stopping his momentum and he croaked, "Enough!... Great Scot! I thought that you… wanted… to save me… not… beat me to death. Oh! It hurts!" He said after a hiss of pain through gritted teeth. He blinked twice as his eyes watered. "Owwww."

Moving back Jim grinned with a look of deep relief on his face. "You're back!" he scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. Then he waved an angry finger in front of Artemus's eyes. "Just don't do that again! Ever! You scared the life out of me!"

Nodding Artie smiled weakly, his eyes dulled with pain, body wrecked with intermittent shivers. "M' sorry Jim, it wasn't my intention. I'll do my best… I promise. Thanks for taking care of me."

Patting Artemus's hand Jim said, "Don't mention it. I don't want anyone else as my best friend, partner and brother. Everything's going to be okay now."

Eyelids fluttering closed Artie said, "I am less optimistic than you… I have a nasty concussion… head injury, my left leg is bleeding, my right leg is broken… Have a strong fever. Hurts a lot." And he blinked away tears of pain. "Feel sleepy… Don't let me sleep, could… I could-I could fall in a…. in a com-coma and never wake. A doctor… needs-eeds to see me before I slee-eep, okay? Have a head in-injury… okay? I don't feel so… sooo… great." His voice was low and slurred.

Moving closer to Artie Jim shook his arm. "Okay. Eh! Try to stay awake…" He had a sudden idea to keep Artie awake. Something he knew Artie couldn't resist: talking about his latest invention. "What about telling me about your latest experimentation?…"

Opening his eyes Artemus let out, "'Okay… err… what?" while struggling to focus on Jim, blinking several times in confusion. "J'm? What happened?"

Placing a hand on his partner's arm, for comfort, Jim said, "It's okay. What about telling me about your latest experimentation?…"

Blinking slowly, Artemus nodded. "'Kay… when-when I was in my lab, at… my mom's home, I invented instant coffee… But I don't know what to call it… soluble coffee, or coffee crystals or…coffee powder…" he closed his eyes.

Shaking Artie's shoulder Jim asked, "You were saying? Instant coffee? What for?"

Re-opening his eyes, his painful head throbbing in time with his wild pulse, Artie smirked. "So you can make good… coffee, finally," he said.

The younger man smiled and wiped the sweat off his forehead and took a couple of deep breaths. He too had a strong fever.

Artemus finally noticed that Jim was cradling his left arm against his chest, and that his face was strained, in an effort to push back pain. He could read it in his partner's stiff body and in his tired green eyes. "You hurt?" he asked, deeply concerned.

Smiling reassuringly, Jim said, "Yes, but it's nothing…"

Shaking his head slowly, Artie whispered, "No, it's… not. I know when you lie, Jim… broken arm?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, but it's nothing in comparison with your injuries… don't worry. " He paused and got back to the subject they had been talking about. "Instant coffee? That's a good idea. You could use coffee right now. You have to stay awake Artie. Tell me more about that instant coffee of yours." Seeing that Artie was drifting off to sleep Jim slapped his best friend's face, not too hard this time. "Focus, buddy."

Blinking slowly, Artemus said, "Er… instant coffee, yes. I thought that it would be a good idea… it's very useful… I used brewed coffee beans and I… don't feel good, I…" He stopped and his chin suddenly dropped on his chest.

Immediately Jim pulled Artie's head up. "Stay awake Artie."

Nodding faintly, Artemus let out, his voice a whisper, "I can't fall asleep till a doctor… till a doctor checks out my head injury…" He closed his eyes again. "So very tired… miss my bed, and my cat…" And his head started to list towards his chest. He tried lifting it and failed.

This time Jim slapped his partner's face hard, again. "I'm sorry. Stay awake, do you hear me? Come on, talk to me. You were saying about that instant coffee?"

Grunting, with great effort, Artie raised his head and pried his eyes open. He blinked repeatedly, his vision graying and breathed, "Very useful… easy to prepare, rapid to prep… are, dissolves instantly in hot water…" He suddenly clamped his mouth closed as nausea rolled through him.

He leaned to the side and vomited again – bile and saliva - emptying his stomach. After a couple of minutes of dry heaving, he rested his head on Jim's lap. "Going to die…" he heaved a long sigh and slumped to lean his head against Jim's shoulder. "Bye J'm."

Crying again, Jim started running small soothing circles on Artemus's scalp knowing that it calmed him. It always did.

He shook his head. "No, you're not going to die. I won't let you die buddy, you have to stay awake."

"I'm trying." Artemus whispered as a response.

"I know, buddy, but you have to try harder," Jim urged, desperate to do everything in his power to help his injured partner.

But Artemus was too tired to fight. His eyes were already drifting shut again, his brain fuzzy. "But instant coffee… can… spoil if not kept dry…" He went limp.

Feeling dread pool in his stomach Jim shook Artie, but he didn't wake.

He choked as a new wave of panic rose in his chest and he couldn't contain it this time. "No, no…" he croaked, devastated.

WWW

Much later

Cries of joy welcomed Black Wolf's return and the children immediately encircled the warrior. Grinning he patted their heads with both reassurance and affection. "I'm here," he said. "I'm back! You're going to be freed soon."

Disengaging himself from the mini Crows, Black Wolf headed toward the two white men. He crouched beside a drowsy Artemus and said, "The soldiers have taken control of the town. The miners and the others are all prisoners. But bad news, Captain Gerrard commanding the company told me that it's impossible to clear the entrance of the mine gallery. Using dynamite would probably make the mine gallery collapse on our heads. We will have to go out from here by the air well by which I came out and returned."

Frowning Jim said, "Artie can't climb up to the surface, it's impossible. He can't even stand – and he's barely conscious. I thought he would never wake again. But he did." He looked at Artemus lying on his back, eyes open but glassy.

Black Wolf nodded. "Soldiers are standing outside, beside the air well. They made a harness they have attached to a pair of horses to lift Strong Bear and then the children safely to the surface."

The Crow Indian took Artemus's hand in his. "Strong Bear?" No reaction. Artemus kept staring at the rocky ceiling of the mine gallery. He placed his other hand on the older white man's shoulder and called out to him again. "Strong Bear?"

Finally Artie snapped out of his daze. He blinked a few times and then smiled at the Crow warrior. "Oh… 'ello, Black Wolf…"

Black Wolf smiled. "It's going to hurt, I know, but it's the only way…Use your good leg to push up." Pulling he heaved the older man up from the ground.

Sweating profusely Artie howled in pain but managed to get upright then immediately flailed as he had only one leg to stand on.

He had a sudden attack of vertigo. Everything became blurry and started spinning fast. He gasped. "Ooh… " he breathed as he started rocking backward and forward.

In a flash, Jim moved to his partner's other side, to support him. "It's okay, Artie, I've got you."

Artie grunted as the world whirled sickeningly for a few moments. He closed his eyes briefly, fighting a wave of nausea.

He fought back welling bile. "God…"

Black Wolf then hoisted Artemus on his broad shoulder. "Lieutenant Harris, the doctor from the fort is waiting for you up above."

Still feeling nauseous, Artie groaned. "I hope he came with strong drugs…"

WWW

Much later, in the infirmary of Fort Brennan

Artemus Gordon opened his eyes – and regretted it immediately. He groaned low in his throat, like a bear discovering sunlight after a long hibernation.

He blindly grabbed a handful of the bedspread with his left hand as he suffered the pain that struck with every movement, and he covered his eyes with it. "Turn that blasted light off!" He growled his voice hoarse. "Blinding headache!" He touched his head wound, winced and found it bandaged. It was probably stitched, he thought – finally realizing that he was still alive. "Oh, thank God!"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jim chuckled. "Glad to see you've decided to rejoin the land of the living… I was thinking you were hibernating – something usual for a bear. And no one can turn off the sun, Artie."

Recognizing his partner's voice Artemus said, "Jim?"

Smiling Jim placed his right hand on Artie's. "Who else? You and I are stuck together till death parts us buddy, but of course without being married." He chuckled mockingly. "The Comanche should have called you 'Strong Bear Grumpy In The Morning'. It would have been perfect." He paused, frowning in concern. "But seriously, how do you feel, Artemus?"

His face pressed into the bedspread, muffling his voice, Artie said, "Like I'm alive, but with a long list of injuries and the mother of all headaches."

Feeling a bit guilty, even if he'd had no other choice but to slap Artie's face and pummel his chest to keep him awake, Jim nodded and said, "Add bruised all-over to that list."

Artie groaned. "What happened? I mean, after I passed out in the doctor's hands."

Pouring water into a glass, Jim responded, "Black Wolf built a travois and settled you in it. Then the doctor examined your head injury and it required six stitches. He concluded you had pretty severe concussion, and he's hoping there's no damage to your very hard ol' noggin'. After the doctor was sure that you wouldn't sleep in a coma, he dosed you with laudanum, and brought you to the fort. He gave you laudanum again before surgery. Your broken bones were perfectly realigned. Then the doctor wrapped your leg in a large bandage and fixed splints to it, to maintain your leg immobile. You don't have a plaster because with a plaster your wounds could become infected, he told me. With this system the doctor will be able to change your dressing as often as necessary because removing splints is easy. You've been sleeping on and off for three days. Because the major bones of the leg support your weight, the doctor said that at least 6-8 weeks is usually required before the bone is healed. But it may take longer for the ligaments and tendons to heal, so he said your leg will be immobilized for at least 10 weeks."

Pushing the bedspread out of his face, Artie blinked, wincing as the sunlight hurt his eyes. He squinted for a moment at the bright light coming from a window on his left before his eyes adjust. "That's just great! I'm going to be stuck in that fort in the middle of an icy nowhere for more than two months," he said grumpily. As he was lying directly under the bedspread, he noticed that his broken leg was wrapped in a bandage and immobilized with four splints and elevated on a couple of pillows.

He noticed too, that his chest was wrapped in a very tight band. Both leg and ribs were throbbing – and painful and the stitches were starting to itch. "What about the children?"

Bringing the glass of water to Artie's lips Jim said, "Black Wolf brought them home. They're back with their families and they're fine."

Artie smiled. "I'm very happy to hear that." Then he took a sip.

Jim continued, "Black Bear was so happy to have the children back – that he proposes to welcome you into his band during your convalescence, when the doctor judges it's okay for you to go to the reservation."

Pleased to hear that Artemus grinned. "It will be a pleasure."

Jim added, "Black Wolf and Red Eagle wanted to be your best friends, but I told them that that position was already taken, by me. Black Wolf replied that you didn't have Crow best friends, so his brother and he claimed that position. And I'm sorry to tell you that White Crow has someone in her life… a warrior called Red Fox, Black Wolf told me."

Now holding the glass of water Artie smiled and took another sip. "It's okay. I hope she'll be happy, she deserves it," he said. He pointed at his best friend's broken left forearm, wrapped in a cast and nestled in a sling. "You're okay Jim?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, I'm fine, and like you I'm going to have that cast for weeks." He suddenly sneezed three times in a row and sniffed loudly. "I may have caught a cold while fishing you out of that freezing river water." He shivered and added, "That's nothing."

Lifting his eyebrows in stupefaction, Artie said, "You? I thought you were never sick…"

Jim smiled. "There is always an exception to a rule. I'm okay, don't worry. It's just a cold." He sneezed again and using his free hand he pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. He blew his nose then put the handkerchief back in place. He added, "I sent a telegram to Washington to tell Colonel Richmond what happened. He sent me a message back shortly after telling that he was very happy at the success of the mission – and the President even more, because the peace wasn't broken. President Grant gave you a long medical leave of 6 weeks." He sighed, ill at ease and guilty. "The President asked me to come back to Washington to be at his side… he has several important meetings scheduled in the coming weeks, and I'll be protecting him. Fortunately it's my left arm that is broken, not the right one. I can still fight and use a gun." He sighed. "I don't like leaving you here, alone."

Sitting the now empty glass on the bedside table, Artie smiled. "Don't worry about me; I won't be alone amongst the Crows. You know my passion for Indians and for knowledge in general – I will learn a great deal with them. Besides, it's a direct order from Grant; you have to obey the President."

Jim nodded. "I know." He patted Artie's shoulder. "I'm glad it's over, and I'm even gladder that you're okay – I mean almost okay, I mean not dead, Artie."

Artemus said, "No, I'm not dead, but that was close. I almost died three times, 1. I was attacked by a mountain lion, 2. I drowned in an icy river, 3. I was almost crushed by rocks in a cave in… and I stopped breathing twice. Technically I was dead until you brought me back."

Jim nodded. "You're a magnet for trouble Artie."

Artemus smiled. "And so are you, James my boy. We're a perfectly matched pair." He winced as his cracked ribs and broken leg hurt more, the effects of the drug fading.

James smiled broadly. "I always thought so."

Artemus grabbed the edge of the bedspread with trembling hands, swallowing convulsively. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat. "Jim, could you ask the doctor to come here please, and quickly? Like now." He gritted his teeth. "Ow!"

WWW

Crow settlement, 6 weeks later

Black Bear entered his grandsons's tepee and headed toward the group of children gathered beside the big fire, sitting cross-legged.

Black Wolf was sitting cross-legged too, in the middle of the circle of children, beside Artemus Gordon – also called Strong Bear. The other man was sitting on a buffalo hide chair he had made and his mending leg was resting on a pile of folded blankets. The two men were both sculpting animals in pieces of soft wood, under the admiring gaze of the girls and boys gathered there.

Black Bear stopped behind two little girls and like the children, he admired the two men sculpting figurines with ease and talent.

Smiling, Artie finished his small carving (an elk) first. Then he sat it on his lap and looking at the young boy sat beside him, he said, "It's for you, Little Elk. It's a present, to thank you. You showed Black Wolf the air well and doing that, you saved my life. Ahó, thank you." Then he offered the wooden elk to the boy, who grinned and pressed it to his chest like a something precious.

Little Elk said, "Ahó, Strong Bear, ahó. It's beautiful."

Black Wolf offered his sculpture to Artemus: it was a bear standing on its hind legs, with huge claws, jaws open wide, threatening. "It's for you, Strong Bear."

Taking it Artie smiled and said, "Ahó, thank you, Black Wolf."

Raising his hand an 8-year old boy asked in his own language, "Tell us a story, Strong Bear. A story with wild animals."

Strong bear smiled and in Crow language asked. "You want a story?" All the children nodded. Taking a beaded bag sitting beside him, on the buffalo fur on the ground, he opened it and pulled out three small carved animals: a tiger, a monkey and an elephant.

He smiled. "I knew that you loved stories, so I made these sculpted animals to tell you one.' He placed them in front of him and took the wooden tiger. "But first I have to present you the various characters of the story. This is a tiger, it's a large cat recognizable for its pattern of dark vertical stripes on reddish-orange fur…Tigers live in a country far, far away…"

Blinking in total surprise, a little girl said, "Orange fur?"

Tbc.