Stone Mason Part II

The bartender came out from behind the bar and looked at the dead and unconscious men on the floor and then looked up at Stone. “You had better get out of here mister,” the man said. Stone looked at him with a question in his eyes. “Now, don’t get me wrong mister. Those boys got what they deserved and it has been a long time coming. It’s just that when they come back and they will come back. They will be bringing friends and they will be armed with more than knives. I don’t want to see you get killed for doing the old man a favor. So why don’t you and the old Chinese head out and catch the first berth you can out of here. Because, after what you done they won’t stop till they’ve killed you and him,” the bartender said.

“Ok,” Stone said,” I won’t cause you any more trouble I just came in here for a drink and to catch up on things.” He looked around to make sure it was safe to head out and then headed for the door. He exited the door and quickly stepped to the right and waited for his eyes to adjust. Even after the dim light of the bar the docks were dark. He could not afford to miss a shadow that was out of place. It was on simple errors like that that men lost their lives.

After his eyes adjusted he moved on down the dock to get a skip back to his ship they were ready to leave in the morning. He and his shipmates had offloaded their cargo and restocked their supplies of food and fresh water earlier and the Captain had given them the rest of today to blow of steam and get whatever personal stuff they needed. Stone had picked up a few books and some other odds and ends he had needed. Stone had been an avid reader since he was a child. His mother had read to him as a boy and then taught him to read and enjoy the worlds that books opened to him. It was this love of far off places that lead him to explore and after his parents died to try and see some of the places that he had read about.

Stone read for the simple joy of reading. Getting lost in the glory of the written word that could make him a warrior in ancient Rome or a philosopher in Greece was the true meaning of books. They were a time machine that could take you to other places and other times. You could become any thing or anyone that you wanted just by opening the cover of a book. Stone had picked up one written by someone named Plutarch that a friend had recommended.

It was during this reminiscing that he became aware of the soft footfalls behind him. Was it one of the thugs from the saloon or someone else hoping to make a quick score? He took a couple more steps and then sidestepped right and drew his long knife and settled into a crouch to wait for whoever was behind him. When he had stepped to the side he had stepped into the shadows so that his outline was merged with that of some crates at his back. This also meant no one could come at him from behind. He heard a soft laugh coming from off to his left, he turned and looked. It was the old man from the bar. He bowed as he had done in the bar his eyes never leaving Stone’s.

“I wanted to thank you for your assistance with the young men back there,” he said in a soft voice. Stone would later learn that this man never raised his voice no matter the provocation.

“Its no problem,” Stone replied,” I hate bullies and then when they pulled weapons on an unarmed man I couldn’t just sit by.”

“Most men would have done just that sir. Feeling that the affair was not of their making and that I should have stayed out of that place and minded my place,” the old Chinese said. “And as for my being unarmed that is not exactly true.” He lifted his shirt and around his waist was what looked like a whip, but it was made of some kind of metal. “You have saved my life even though I was a stranger and in my culture you are now responsible for it. I will accompany you so that you can make sure that this old man does not get into more trouble.”

“Now wait just one minute there mister. I am glad your okay and it was my pleasure to help, but I am not responsible for you. I am a deckhand on a schooner and can’t take you with me,” Stone said in amazement.

“I’m afraid it is not your decision to make sir. I will be accompanying you on your journey. We will journey through the world together and you will stop this ancient one from getting into predicaments like this one tonight,” the old man said. Stone just stood there with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t know what to say.

“There is no way that you’re going with me and I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure that you stay behind,” Stone finally said. The old man simply smiled at him. Stone turned and started back to his ship sheathing his blade as he walked. He had taken only a few steps when he heard the old man’s footsteps behind him. He turned and there was the old man following behind him. Stone growled, “Listen old man, I told you that you can’t come with me.” The old man smiled again and just stood there.

Stone turned around and started out again. He had only taken a few steps when he heard the old man again. Mason was getting mad. Who was this old man to say he was responsible for him. Was he trying to run a scam on him? Or was he just a little touched as his father used to say? “Old man I will tie you up and leave you here if I have to. So why don’t you just be on your way and I’ll be on mine,” he said.

“Do what you must but this is not your decision. I will accompany you and that is all I will say on the matter,” the old man replied.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you but I will if I have to. Please, just stay here and let me go in peace,” Stone said.

“I am afraid that I can not,” the Chinese gentleman said looking sad.

“Then I’m sorry for this old man but you forced me to it,” Stone said solemnly. He moved forward and reached for the man. The next thing he knew he was flying through the air to land with a crash into some crates. Mason shook his head trying to figure out what had happened. He climbed to his feet and looked at the old man who was standing there as if nothing had happened. Stone approached, a little more cautiously this time. When he reached for the old man this time he actually saw what the old man did to him before he went flying through the air.

The Chinese man had grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his waist using his waist as a leverage point to throw Mason. As Stone got up again he was going to make sure that the old man didn’t get the chance to use that move again. He made as if to try the same move again and when the old man went to use the same counter, Stone slipped under his arm and grabbed him in a bear hug. Stone’s plan was to squeeze him till the old guy blacked out. It was a move that he had done on many occasions before. Due to his incredible strength this move worked every time. The old man reached up and did something to Stone’s wrist and suddenly he couldn’t feel his hand. Mason dropped the old man and checked to see what the matter with his hand was. Meanwhile the old man turned and hit him above the hip and his legs buckled. He couldn’t feel them or make them work. He looked up at the old man in astonishment. “What did you do to me,” he yelled, “You’ve crippled me.

The old man smiled and said,” It is only temporary but unless you let me accompany you, you will remain as you are.”

“You can fix this and my hand?” Stone asked.

“Yes” the old man said. Stone thought for a moment. Well it was either let the old man tag along or remain a cripple and hope those boys from the bar didn’t find him.
“Okay you can come with me. I don’t know how I’ll explain this to the Captain, but you can follow along.”

”Thank you, and as far as the Captain of your ship is concerned I don’t think it will be an issue,” The old man said.

The Chinese gentleman reached done and touched some spots on his wrist and his hip and suddenly he could feel both. They felt as if they had fallen asleep and the sensation was just returning with that pins and needles tingling. “Could you show me some of that stuff you used on me? It may come in handy later to know some of that fighting technique you used,” Stone asked.

“It would be an honor to share some of the things that I have learned on my journey through this life,” the old man replied bowing again.

“I just hope the learning won’t be as painful as this lesson was,” Stone said grinning a little at that thought.

Stone shook his head and brought his mind back to the present. Now was not the time for reminiscing. He picked up the sack that until then had been quiet. It gave off the ominous buzzing noise again. Stone grinned. Those poor pilgrims below had no idea what they had started when the decided to follow Stone. As Stone move along the ridge the bag again grew quiet. It was the twilight just before dawn when sentries were most likely to be less alert. The big man moved with the grace of a stalking mountain lion. He was wearing his moccasins so that he could feel any twig underfoot before he placed his weight on it. He took his time approaching the camp. When Mason got to a point overlooking the camp, he could only see three of the four people that had been following him. The fourth must be under the overhang he was now on.

Again that bothered him. This fourth man was careful and that made him dangerous. Well it’s about time to start the party Stone thought. He shook the bag and threw the contents into the sleeping men below. He heard the buzzing of the big bull rattlers before they hit the ground. They were definitely unhappy. One of the outlaws shouted and sat bolt upright. The first rattler struck at the sudden movement. The snake hit the man in the neck injecting his venom right into the main artery. The thug let out a long scream and tried to pull the snake off of him. This just made it madder and the snake kept striking him in the arms and face. Normally a rattlesnake bite won’t kill a normal sized adult. The venom will cause violent illness and swelling around the injection site. It’s usually a person with a bad heart or some other frailty that dies from a rattler bite.

The other scum were crawling out of their beds and reaching for their weapons. The first man that was bitten was slowly quieting down with the huge amount of venom that he had been injected with. Some of the other snakes had gotten into the act and had been striking him as he had been thrashing around. He was slipping into a coma as the venom hit his brain. Mason hadn’t meant for any of the outlaws to die. He just wanted to discourage them. Well, he remembered an old Blackfoot saying, “Those that lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas “in this case rattlers.

The first shot woke Stone from his musings. The outlaws were shooting wildly at the snakes that had not already crawled off into the darkness. They were moving a little slowly because of the colder air at this altitude. One of the gunmen while backing up tripped over a log and his shot went wild hitting one of his companions in the shoulder. The ugly scream he let out showing the pain of the wound. This is what Stone had hoped to accomplish. With some of their members wounded or injured they would be traveling much more slowly. This would give him all the more time to set up some more of his traps and ambushes. Let’s see how these outlaws react when they learn that the shoe was now on the other foot and they have become the hunted. It was not in Stone to show mercy to his enemies. To his friends there was not a more loyal or trustworthy man. To his enemies, well let’s just say that those that were still alive wanted nothing to do with the huge mountain man. Most had moved to another part of the country rather than have anything more to do with this mountain of power and fury.
All the rattlers had crawled off into the night and things were settling down in the camp, except for the cries of the wounded man. “Oh man I’m going to die. Somebody help me”, the wounded man cried. “My arm’s done ruined.” Stone had counted on the men below being cowards. Most criminals were. They were afraid either of themselves, hard work, or some other dark secret that they were afraid that someone would find out. It is a combination of fear and laziness that makes people become criminals. They think that society owed them something for nothing. That just by being born they were entitled. If they ever stopped to think they would realize that they expend much more energy trying to get out of work than if they actually did the work. If a criminal put all the energy they use in trying to take the easy way out they would probably succeed in some endeavor that was honest. They had some kind of flaw in their personality, a lack of morals and ethics, which said it was ok to take what others had. Be it property, their safety, their body, even their lives. A criminal gave no thought to others or the consequences of their action. They were most interested in immediate self-gratification. No matter what they had to do to get it. The man below continued to call for help. Stone slipped back into the trees and headed back to camp to gather his belongings. Stone slipped into the darkness a small smile on his face.

“Let the games begin,” he said to himself.

He returned to his camp, gathered up his belongings and shouldered his pack. He headed of on the trail setting a good pace. He wanted to get a good lead on the others. He had some really nasty surprises in mind for the people following him. The way he figured, there were two able bodied men left and one wounded man. As he got back on the trail the sun was just peeking its head above the horizon to the east at his back. The sun on his back felt good warming him up and bringing a quiet joy to his mind. Mason always enjoyed the morning it was like a rebirth. The world awoke and came to life around him. Birds started their morning chorus. The animals skittered in the underbrush. All these sounds told him that all was well with the world. Some part of him was always listening for these things that told all was well.

Stone found a perfect spot for his next trap. The trail passed between two boulders and there were plenty of pines on the other side. Stone decided to rig a swing trap. He took several lengths of rope from his pack and set it aside. He looked around and found what he was looking for, an old log that was big enough but not to big. He measured out the rope so that the log would hang just about head high. He rigged the trap and erased all sign that he had been there. He rigged the trip for his swing trap at the exit between the two boulders so that whoever was in the lead would trip it as he left the gap. He then picked up his pack and headed on up the trail.

All that work had stirred up Stone’s hunger. He found a vantage point where he could see the trap he had rigged several hundred feet below him. He got out some jerky and cold biscuits. As he nibbled on these he wondered why these people were hunting him. He had heard the mystery man say something about a bounty. As far as he knew he was wanted for nothing. Any man he had ever killed had been in a stand up fight. He could think of no reason for someone to put a bounty on his head. Well, let’s see if any of them survived long enough to collect on it.

Stone caught just a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked down to where he had rigged the swing trap. The three men had just hit the entrance between the two rocks. The mystery man was hanging back a little behind his fellows. Mason couldn’t get a good look at him from this distance He kept his hat pulled down over his eyes. There was something about his bearing and the way he walked that nagged at the hind part of Stone’s mind. Just then he heard the trap being tripped and his attention was drawn back to the exit of the rocks. The lead man had triggered the trap and looked up to see what the noise was that was coming at him from above. The sight of the log swinging down at him made the coward freeze in place the trap caught him at about chin level. Stone could hear the bone crunch even from the distance that he was. Sound traveled far in the cold High country air. The log picked the man up and threw him back into the fellow behind him. They both went down in a heap. There was yelling and cursing from the men below. The mystery man’s voice carried above the confusion.
”What in God’s name was that?”

The bounty hunter that got hit by the man that was hit by the log spoke up while trying to get out from under him, “It was a log that someone rigged into the tree. Rusty must have tripped it when he was leaving the gap in the rocks. “No Doubt, you imbecile as he seems to be the one that stopped it with his face,” the mystery man said.

The gang member who had been shot the previous night was examining the man who had been hit by Mason’s log spoke up. “Rusty is busted up pretty good. I reckon he’ll live but he won’t be able to move for a while and his face is going to look uglier than it ever did. His own Momma won’t be able to recognize him. That might be good thing in the long run though. He’s wanted for murder in two states and robbery in a couple more.”

After hearing this Stone gathered his belongings and headed on up the trail. They wouldn’t be following him any time soon, if ever. They were down to two healthy men and two wounded. Any advantage they thought they had was gone now. Stone was due in a little valley North and West of Siloam Springs, in the Indian Territories in three days. He had to hurry if he wanted to make it in time. Dealing with these bounty hunters had slowed him down a mite. He started off at a lope that would eat up the miles. He had learned this pace when he had lived with the tribe that was near his family’s homestead.

An Indian warrior could travel up to thirty miles in a day at this pace. Stone had wound up living with his adopted brother Little Bear of the Arikara tribe. Stone’s family had moved from a Pennsylvania farm that Stone’s Grandfather had started when he had come over from England. Stone’s family came from a long line of masons. They had built palaces and castles over a large portion of England. They were a much respected family of builders. Jeremiah Mason, Stone’s grandfather, was a wandering man, always traveling from county to county. Finally he grew tired of working for other people. He wanted something of his own to pass onto his sons and their sons. He was not rich but he also wanted for little. His skills as a mason were in demand and people paid for the privilege of his skill. He heard of the opportunities in the colonies. Where a man could own his land and prosper from the fruits of his labor. Jeremiah decided to travel to the Americas and give this new land a try. If he failed he could always return to masonry.

Stone’s grandfather had regaled the young James with stories of the voyage and the seas that they had encountered. He had been on one of the first ships to make the voyage in the spring and they had run into a few late season storms. That was what had gotten Stone interested in the sea in the first place. When Stone was old enough he had shipped out as a cabin boy on a ship and had spent ten years on ships. When he was eighteen he was offered his own ship but the call of the mountains he had seen as a child was stronger than the call of the ocean. He had saved money over the years not being a man that drank other than the occasional beer in a tavern while listening to the local talk. He remembered his time among the Indians.

On one of their pilgrimages he had caught sight of the big mountains in the west. From that moment on he was enraptured. Not even the ocean could fill the void for long when he had embarked on his first voyage. His dreams had called him back to these mountains referred to as the High Lonesome. He had the same wanderlust as his grandfather though. Jeremiah had left England and ran into his destiny. He met a beautiful woman named Patricia. He had fallen in love with her when he had come on deck one night and saw her standing in the bow letting the sea spray her upturned face. He later learned that she was the captain’s daughter, but by the time he found out he was hopelessly in love. Patricia’s father did not approve of the romance and did what he could to discourage the young couple. The love the two felt only strengthened the bond between them. Patricia’s father seeing this resigned himself to the impending marriage. Jeremiah loved telling the young James Mason the story of how they had married and he had come to this place with his bride and built the house they lived in. He told of the battle with the local Indian tribes and how he had won their respect and their peace with his strength, courage and also his rifle. During this time Patricia had given birth to James’ father Justin.
They were happy together and made occasional visits back East to see Patricia’s father. The old sea captain had retired and was doing well with investments and other ventures he had put money into while still a captain. Jeremiah once told Stone that his grandmother was a rich woman after her father died. He had left his money and property to his only child Patricia. Jeremiah didn’t have need of the money Patricia’s father had left her. They did quite well with the money Jeremiah made from the local town as a mason and smith. When Jeremiah and Patricia had a girl they decided that when she was old enough they would send her back east to live and be schooled. They used some of the money Patricia’s father had left them to pay for this. Stone’s grandparents had decided that this would be best for a young girl. When Stone’s aunt Jennifer had turned ten they had sent her to New York to a school for young ladies. They had visited her when they could take the time out from their busy schedule. Jennifer had come home on the holidays and during breaks in her schedule.

Stone’s father Justin had grown into a big boy larger than the other kids in the local town. This was because he often helped his father at the smithy and with his masonry work. The heavy lifting had put muscle on the young lad. He loved to wrestle with the other boys and often wrestled with some of the older boys. He discovered that there was a tribe in the local area that was pretty friendly and one day he came across a young Indian boy while out hunting supper with a new rifle that Jeremiah had gotten for the young Justin. The boy had been up in a tree going after some honey and had slipped and fallen. He had a broken leg and was unable to get up on his own. Justin showed the youth that he had no bad intentions by laying his rifle against a tree and holding his hands up with the palms out. He approached the young boy and checked him out.

The young Indian boy eyed him suspiciously while Justin examined him. There was only a tightening around his eyes to show that he was in pain when Justin touched his leg. Justin demonstrated that he would have to set the leg with sign language and some words that he had picked up in the village. The boy nodded that he understood and signed for Justin to go ahead. Justin gathered some green limbs and whittled them to length. He pulled some rawhide strips from his pocket that he used for tying game and such. He showed the young man he was ready to set his leg. The young Indian nodded for Justin to go ahead. Justin put one of his large hands on either side of the break and pulled he could feel the bones slip into place and he released his grip. There were beads of sweat on the young Indian’s brow. Justin put the limbs in place and tied them in place with the pigging strings that he had prepared. During the whole process the young man had made not a sound. He had just gritted his teeth and born it.

After Justin was done he helped the young man to his feet and helped him stand. He then told the Indian boy he would help him back to his village. The boy nodded his assent. When they got to the village there was a big uproar and the young boy was whisked away and into a tepee. Justin was surrounded by some of the warriors from the tribe. They made it clear he was not to move from where he was. They let him keep his weapons, but Justin knew that if he raised the barrel even a little he would be dead before he could ear back the hammer. Soon one of the warriors that had taken the boy into the tepee came back out and shouted something that Justin couldn’t quite catch. The other warriors stepped back from Justin and motioned for him to approach the warrior that had shouted. Justin walked forward with legs that were trembling. He thought for sure he was a dead man. He would never see his mother or father again. For a brief moment he wondered if they would ever know what had become of him, or would he just drop off the face of the earth with only his scalp hanging from some Indian’s tepee to show that he had ever been there. Justin didn’t let any of the emotions he was feeling to show in his face. He knew that to show fear in front of these warriors would be his death for sure. The warrior looked at him with a face set in stone.

He spoke,” My son says that you have helped him.” Justin could only nod in the affirmative. “You have done a good thing. For he is my only son and we would have mourned his departing,” the warrior said. “You have done a good and brave thing here today.”

The young Indian that Justin had helped came out with the help of an older woman Justin assumed was his mother. The boy approached and took a knife out of his belt. He took Justin’s hand in his and with one quick movement made a slash on Justin’s palm. He then made a slash on his own. He placed his hand into Justin’s and then said something. The boy’s father nodded his head as if approving whatever his son was saying. A cheer went up from those surrounding them. That was how Stone’s father had become a blood brother of the Arapaho tribe. The Indian Justin had saved was called Little Bear. He showed Justin the way of the Arapaho. How to track and all the plants that were good for medicinal purposes. Justin made it a point to share any of the meat he got when he went hunting. It didn’t matter if it was a couple of squirrels, rabbits, or a chunk of venison. They became fast friends.

Growing up Stone had played with Indian children as well as white. He learned to read the written word as well as the tracks and signs the animals left in the forest. It was when he came home from one of these adventures that he found his parents dead. His father had died hard. He had been shot at least six times that Stone could see. He had also been crudely scalped. His mother’s naked body had been left for the animals. She had been used badly by the men who had killed his father. Stone never cried he went to tracking to see who had done this terrible thing to his parents. He found plenty of sign. The men who had killed his parents had tried to make it look like Indians had done the foul deed. They had left arrows around, but Stone knew by looking at them that they never could have been shot to where they were imbedded. They were more than likely discards that the local Indians had thrown away due to the defects that Stone could see by examining them, besides his father had been shot six times. That means there had to have been at least six Indians with rifles. He didn’t know of any tribe in the area that had more than two or three rifles among them and those older flintlocks.

He found where one man had stood back in the tree line as if to observe what was happening. The man had been white. He saw boot prints and where the man had smoked a cigarette. This was a habit that was becoming popular with the men in the village. Cowhands had brought it up from the Texas panhandle. It was something they had learned from the Mexican Vaqueros. Stone couldn’t understand what kind of man could stand there and watch what had happened to his parents. He would find out though.

He went through the cabin to see what was left. They killers must have ransacked the place after they were done with his parents. There was flour and sugar all over the place. He found the place in the fireplace, his father had showed him and drilled into him that if anything ever happened to them he was to go and get what was hidden there. He moved the rocks in combination that he had learned from childhood. His family had been masons and they certainly knew how to construct a hidey-hole for the securing of valuables. Stone pulled out a small bag that clinked and a packet made of leather. In the bag he found ten twenty-dollar double eagles. These he put in his belt pouch. In the packet he found his father’s will and deed to the property they lived on. This surprised him, as filing of deeds was a rarity in this day. The next paper showed why Stone’s father had done this. It was a map that showed a location on their property. There was a stream there that Stone was aware of and that was it. Stone read the letter attached to the map. It seems that Justin had found gold along the stream and while it was not a large producer was enough to see that Stone’s family would never want for anything. This must have been what the thieves had been after.

Stone stored these in his pouch. He looked around some more and found his father’s rifle. He also found some fatback and cartridges for the rifle. In his mother’s hope chest he found a false bottom and in it he found a pair of pistols. This surprised Stone, as he had never seen them before. They were of the new Walker Colt variety. It was then Stone remembered that his birthday was less than a month away he would be twelve. He remembered when he had gone to town with his father about three months ago. They had stopped by the gun shop to pick up some ammunition for Justin’s large fifty-caliber Hawkins and some other supplies. Stone had looked around in awe at the selection of guns and saddles the store carried. In the display case there had been a couple of pistols that were for sale both used and new. It wasn’t until Stone got to the end of the case that he saw the two Colts. They were the most beautiful things Stone had ever seen. There was a cold deadly beauty that was hypnotic. He just stood there and stared wide eyed at them. He didn’t even hear his father come up behind him to see what had caught his attention. When he saw the guns Justin had smiled. Most boys Stone’s age had a fascination of guns.

The clerk had come over and asked Stone if he would like to hold one. He and Stone’s father were friends. Justin always had talked of the shopkeeper Mr. Jenkins with respect. Stone later learned that Mr. Jenkins had been a scout for the Army and had only taken up shop keeping when he got arthritis and couldn’t handle the cold and rough treatment anymore. Mr. Jenkins didn’t mind shop keeping though. He was sort of philosophical about it. He got to reminisce about the old days and deal with all kinds of people. He had taken a liking to the Mason family. They were the type of people that this country needed. They were solid, hard working and always willing to help when somebody needed it. Stone looked up to see if it was ok with his father to handle the gun.

Justin had drilled gun handling into his son ever since Stone had showed an interest in guns. Stone had watched his father clean and care for his rifle before and after hunting with it. Justin showed Stone how to hold, load and fire a gun. He stressed the importance of always knowing what you were shooting at. He also taught the young Stone that you never ever pointed a gun at a human being unless he was going to do you or yours harm. He drilled these lessons into Stone until they were second nature. Mr. Jenkins handed the big pistol to Stone. Stone handled the big gun with care and slowly examined it. He liked the feel of the weapon in his hands. It fit as if it belonged. Maybe a little large, but Stone was still growing and soon it would fit like it was made for him. He carefully handed the gun back to Mr. Jenkins. About a month ago Justin had gone into the village by himself, just to pick up a few things he had said with a wink to his wife. These must have been meant for Stone’s birthday present. Well now they would be used to avenge his parents’ murder.