The Journada Del Muerto

Hearing the warnings, Smythe looked back. The distance between their wagons was closing at breakneck speed and he could see the wild terror in Gibson's face. Without brakes, Gibson had no choice but to give his mules full rein.

All Smythe had to do to save himself was pull over and the runaway wagon would pass by, but he quickly abandoned that idea. He had to stop the wagon. He'd be signing Gibson's death warrant if he let him pass. Without brakes, the wagon couldn't make the next turn in the trail. It would go over the cliff!

The runaway mules thundered down the trail in a wild panic, racing madly to keep ahead of the massive load as it swerved out of control.

Gibson, an expert teamster, was fighting a losing battle with his reins and whip. Closing swiftly on Smythe, he too screamed the warning, 'Runaway! Runaway!' in an effort to save his friend.

Without hesitation, Smythe braked hard and reined his team to the right, directly in the runaway's path.

(Chapter 33)

As evening approached, the drums picked up their beat, accompanied by frenzied war whoops. Even from a distance of some two miles, the sounds struck terror into everyone's heart. For the next hour or so, the incessant rhythm and shrieks continued, a warning that the attack would be starting soon. An hour or so later, the drums fell silent.

'Git ready!' Peg Leg, grabbed Malcolm's arm. 'They're goin' to be on us before we know it!'

'Take your positions!' Malcolm shouted.

His riflemen scattered like quail. They bolted to their wagons. Flooded with adrenalin, they knew they would be facing death in a matter of minutes!

Malcolm and Smythe did a quick turn through the area, offering encouragement, checking to see that each man was ready.

Shorty Jollie volunteered to act as a roving messenger. His job would be to move among the wagons and fortress, carrying orders from Malcolm and spreading news among the combatants.

Angus, by far the tallest man in the group, had positioned himself on top of his wagon. Standing there, he could see for miles around.

Suddenly he bellowed, 'Here they come! They're leavin' camp right now! I'll try get a head count when they get closer. They're ridin' at a slow trot.'

In the makeshift fortress, Steffi and the other women worked feverishly to finish stacking the last of the timbers, creating a little playhouse for Colin and Hugh. Electrified by Angus' warning, they dropped the last timber, grabbed pistols and knives and steeled themselves to fight to the death.