As the Indians on the ground were being taken down by the combined might of Jack’s guns and Kane’s fists, the braves atop the fifteen metre cliff drew their bows and loosed arrows of flint. Kane and Lightning moved around both the rain of arrows and the savage swings of the tomahawks. Octavius Wilhem, with arrows glancing off his armour, judged trajectories, produced his automatic gun attachment and unleashed a torrent of lead that cut through the braves before they could loose their next volley.
The thunderous sound filled the cavern and signaled a quick defeat of the savage attackers. Kane and Lightning mopped up their foes with little effort, despite the drugged fury of their foes and, with some small amount of fortune, one of the braves was spared a grisly fate. Wilhem wanted answers and, being that he was a master of languages, decided to take the indian warrior outside for questioning while Lightning and Kane continued to search for the missing iron ore.
The network of tunnels leading into this cave was like a hive, with many dead ends and bluffs, along with tunnels that stretched for miles. Fortunately Kane’s experienced tracking skills served the marshals in good stead as he lead Lightning along the most traveled route taken by the Indians. Expecting another attack both marshals were on their guard, waiting for another warrior to strike. And surely one did, though to the surprise of both lawmen, their adversary was only eight years old.
Meanwhile, a combination of hot desert air and Wilhem’s trained medical know-how ensured that when the Indian awoke, it would be with whatever faculties had been left him after Kane’s mighty blow. When the Indian opened his eyes, there was only a faint pink hue which suddenly bulged with shock as Wilhem spoke to him with flawless fluency of the tribe’s native tongue.
“Tell me why you stole the iron and killed the men?” he asked.
Octavius listened as the Indian recounted their side of the story. That the camp had been attacked by a huge bullet flung from the heavens. It had decimated half of the camp, killing many braves along with women and children. Those that survived and hadn’t been maimed help those who had into the cave- a sacred place to the tribe – and planned how they would claim justice against the white men responsible for such massacre.
Back inside the sacred cave, Kane and Lightning were confronted by a small boy wielding a flint knife and jabbering at the two lawmen in a language completely unintelligable to the lawmen. Lightning moved quickly, disarmed the boy and pinned him to the wall before anyone else was hurt. However the jabbering tongue had carried to more of the tribe and the boy’s reinforcements came in the form of more children and women, one of which was beset with grief and worry that she had to be held back for fear that the white invaders would kill her. Undoubtedly the boys’ mother.
There was little threat to the marshals who had taken down a dozen Indian warriors and Kane was willing to keep the fight going. Lightning, still holding the boy as his mother attempted to break free of the tribe, tried to reason with her but neither of them could understand the other. A fight was unavoidable until an echoing order came for both lawmen and Indians to calm down. Octavius Wilhem had returned and the Indian warrioir wsa with him.
During the stand-off, Wilhem had listened to the plight of the Indian warrior and had been moved by their tragedy. An educated and, more importantly, an enlightened man, Wilhem recognized the justice the tribe sought. But he was not naieve enough to believe that such justice would be found against the better armed and numerically superior forces of Camp Ithaca. Reasoning with the warrior, he had managed to convince him that the best course of action was to take the tribe and move to a place outside the range of the Space Gun. After some debate, and thanks to Wilhem’s generous donation of some two hundred dollars to help purchase supplies, the warrior had agreed.