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| THE WILLIE BIRD OPTION |
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| First Draft Chapter 3
FORT SMITH
Superintendent Waters, Alverez
Kelly, and Nathan stood together in front of the Superintendent’s house
watching passengers and baggage load the El Paso Coach. Kelly loved to talk and
tell tall tales. As Conductor helped each person in the coach, Kelly would
comment on why he guessed the person was going to El Paso.
Technically,
the stage was traveling first through the Indian Territory to Colbert’s Ferry,
then, it would across Texas to Fort Chadbourne on the Pecos and finally south
to Franklin and El Paso. Among the seven passengers, there were five men and
three women. Two of the men were newspaper reporters from Dallas. They told the
Station Agent they were in Fort Smith to cover the hangings. However, Kelly claimed
they never left the nugget saloon. The reporters and another man, Cutler Hansen,
who said he was a Texas banker, would leave the coach at Fort Belnap and take a different coach line to Dallas. Kelly took
one look at Hansen, and declared the man a fake.
“He might have been a bank clerk,” said Kelly. “But, he's
running from something.”
Most men Kelly to according were criminals or villains of
one sort or another.
The other two men, Willis Frank and Quentin Kale were
dressed as businessmen, in suits and wearing city hats, but according to Kelly,
they talked and smelled like ranch hands.
“I talked to Amos Davies about these two. They came up to
the ticket window together and then played some kind of game in front of Amos
making out they lived in El Paso but had never met. The thing is, they have
similar new suits and travelling bags and they purchased their ticket with a
fifty dollar gold piece. I am certain they are villains.
The
two women were as different as night and day. Elizabeth Chandler was a young stick
of a girl from Ohio on her way to teach reading and writing to the Indian
children at the school in Fort Chadbourne. The other woman was in her thirties. She had
come in on the stage with Nathan. Nathan knew her name was Ruth Manchester. According
to Kelly by way of Amos Davies, she said very little on the trip from Tipton except
she was from Illinois and on her way to Mexico.
Alverez speculated she was a Mormon.
When all the passengers, baggage, and mail was aboard, Amos
Davies and a second man, Conrad Kliest carried the strong box out and placed it
under the seat in the box. Neils Johnston stood guard during the transfer. When
they were finished, Davies and Kleist walked around the coach with Kelly
checking cinches, buckles, and ties. Kliest would take over as conductor for
the trip. He would ride inside the coach.
Satisfied all was in order, Kelly and Neils Johnston climbed
up into the box. Following, Nathan used the
hand rails to climb past Johnston where he wedged himself between bags of mail while
holding on to the rail with one hand and his new shotgun with the other. Behind
Nathan, a Choctaw Indian named Joe Red Feather (Shikoba humma) sat at the back
of the stage facing the rear. He was riding the top as far as Geary Station on
North Boggy Creek. Joe’s sister Lucy was married to the station master, A.W.
Geary. Joe had gone to the Indian School and spoke American better than Neils.
He was the twenty-five year old second son of a Choctaw chief.
Exactly at three in the afternoon, the Wells Fargo Overland Stage for El Paso rolled out of Fort Smith
with Kelly driving the team through town at a slow walk. Kelly was one of the
best Whips in the west and loved the looks of envy the townspeople showed when
he drove the brightly painted red coach on another journey.
On their way out of town, Neils Johnston intently watched
the road and the throng of people on Garrison Avenue. Even with a second guard
and a new shotgun, Neils never stopped watching for armed men or Indians.
Because they were leaving late in the day, Neils and Kelly had on cream-colored
dusters. The day was warm and sunny, but
the nights could be cold and rain was always possible at harvest time.
Immediately out of town, they stopped at the first of a
dozen ferries and river crossings. By now, Nathan was used to the routine. He
had already crossed the red river once into Fort Smith and as Kelly explained it,
they would cross the Red twice more. For safety the passengers existed the
coach while Kelly drove the team and wagon onto the ferry. Neils told Nathan to
stand at the back with his shotgun at the ready and guard the boot. He took a
position by the right front wheel. Kelly stood at the front talking to the lead
horses.
One of the newspaper men walked up to Nathan. He was short
and fat, a man in his forties, with thinning gray hair.
“Did you see the hanging?” the man asked.
"I did. Did you?”
“I got there late. I was really too far back to see or hear
much. My names David York. I write for the Dallas Gazette. I’m not sure what I
will write.”
“I am sure you can
make something up.”
Seeing six men die all at the same time had an unsettling
effect on Nathan. Nathan was no stranger to death or killing. At Gettysburg,
he’d seen dozens of men blown to bits by cannon shot; men dying together in the
same instance. At Cold Harbor, he shot five men, dropping each man two or three
steps after the last. No man getting any further than the time it took him to
cock his Army Colt. He gutted a sixth Reb, with his bayonet. The difference was
life and death in war were random. These deaths were planned and the men killed
by something like a machine in a factory.
“Look, it would be worth a buck to me if you would tell me
what you heard and saw. What did it feel like? I mean, did they twist and die
slow or snap and it was all over.” The fat man snapped his pudgy fingers.
“One of the men said there were folks in the crowd more
guilty than him.”
“He was probably right. What did the others say?”
“One said he was glad to leave this world. Another broke
down and cried that he was innocent. Then this minister got up and read a
letter one of the boys had written. I can’t remember much because it made no
sense to me. When they finished, a marshal put a noose and hood on each and then
pulled a lever. It was over in less time than it takes to drink a whiskey.”
“What did you think when it was all over?”
“I remember thinking that I hoped I would never find myself
on that crowded platform claiming I was innocent.”
“Anything else.”
“You owe me a dollar.” Nathan gave the man a hard look and
then smiled as the man pulled out his pocketbook.
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| NANOWRIMO First Draft CHAPTER 2
JUDGE PARKER
Nathan leaned out the second story window of his hotel room. The room had a bed, a basin to wash, and a dresser. Below him, a crowd of people moved west down Roger Street heading towards the courthouse and gallows on Garrison Avenue. The sun was just rising to the east. The hangings were scheduled for nine in the morning. According to Superintendent Waters, Judge Parker was going to allow each man time to say his piece and hopefully make his peace with the almighty.
Seeing a crowd was already gathering, Nathan,
dressed and carried his rifle, Army holster, and valise down to the desk clerk.
In the holster he left his new Colt Peacemaker The Peacemaker cost fifteen dollars,
but had the advantage that it used the same cartridges as his Winchester 73. He
told the clerk he would collect his guns and valise later. This morning he was
dressed in his blue Army pants without the stripes and a blue work shirt he
bought at a mercantile. Out of habit he had his Army issued Colt stuffed in his
belt. The older Colt required a cap and ball. Nathan purchased the pistol from
the Army when he was discharged, along with considerable ammunition, which he
now carried in his valise with a second shirt and a spare pair of long
underwear. He loved the feel of the Army Colt with its wood handle. He was
determined to carry the older pistol in his belt until he ran out of
ammunition.
Nathan joined the throng of people heading towards the old
Army fort, now the Federal Courthouse. The crowd was a mix of locals dressed in
business and trade clothes and country folk who had traveled for days to see
these six men die. There were whole families with small children and dogs,
women with little babies, older boys and girls dressed for school, and men of
all ages and colors, most in various stages of drunkenness.
Being a large patient man, Nathan was able to work his way gently
through the mob until he could see and almost touch the gallows platform. The
gallows were painted white with a roof to protect the condemned from the rain
and a fence below the platform so the crowd could not see the men jerking at
the end of the ropes. There were thirteen steps up to the platform. On the
platform, there was room for eight souls. A long trap ran the length of the
platform. A single lever opened the trap and the men would drop all at the same
time. Today, six ropes, ending with a hangman’s noose were evenly spaced across
the white stag.
Around Nathan, the mass of onlookers were abuzz, talking
about the hanging and the various crimes. In addition to Daniel Evans, James
Moore, Samuel Fooy a quarter Indian, Smoker Mankiller a full Cherokee, Edmond
Campbell an ex-slave, and John Whittington were scheduled to hang. Each man was
convicted of murder among other heinous crimes, including rape and robbery. Talking
with those around him, Nathan learned that like Evans, William Whittington
killed his traveling companions for cash and
Samuel Fooy murdered a school teacher his money. Edmund Campbell and
another black man, Frank Butler murdered a man and his daughter at a prayer
meeting over an insult. Butler was shot by Marshal Maledon, the Court’s
hangman. Smoker Mankiller shot and killed his neighbor, and James Moore, was
convicted of killing a peace officer and seven other men. He claimed to have
killed more than eight men, if you counted ‘Niggers and Indians’. Daniel Evans
was the only Boot Thief in the group.
Nathan stood waiting with the crowd . Marshals roamed the grounds with repeating
rifles. After seeing a Marshall remove a man wearing a revolver, Nathan moved
the Army Colt to his side and buttoned his coat.
At ten, a Marshall with two dozen deputies lead the six men
out of the basement jail. Several men blinked and shaded their eyes as they
emerged from their prison. Judge Parker with his distinctive goatee and wearing
a black suit follows the men.
The hangman, Marshal Maledon, also dressed in
black was already on the platform. The six men were led up the steps and made
to sit on a bench at the back of the gallows. The Marshall stepped forward and
read the sentence for each man. Then he asked the men if they had any last
words.
James Moore stood up and announced there were worse men than
him in the audience today. This received a laugh as men looked around at one
another. James Fooy claimed he was anxious to get out of this world, and Edmund
Campbell claimed he was innocent. The last man had written a statement which
was read by a local minister. His words fell on deaf ears as the crowd
anticipated the men’s end.
The hangman put the noose over each man’s head and a black
sack. With no ceremony the crowd became silent, waiting for and a nod from
Judge Parker. When the trap was opened and the six men dropped the only sound
was a collect snap, and a cheer from the excited crowd. Justice had its pound of flesh and Arkansas
and the Indian Territories would never be the same.
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