Arendsoog/Eagle eye

Chapter 1

In Mining Valley

A mining village, as there were many in the days of the gold rush. The main meeting point was the inn, or bar. Although things were usually never serene, something appeared to be going on that was special, according to the clamor of the visitors.
“And I’m telling you, I ain’t afraid of the devil, let alone that Eagle eye of yours.”
It was a big, burly guy, who said it. His roughly haired face expressed contempt. Not just for Eagle eye, as he said before, but for all possible human and godly laws, as if they were none of his concern. He hit his fist on the counter, as he was defiantly looking around the room.
There was a silence after his words. The others looked at each other, afraid. “If I were you, stranger, ” one of them spoke, “I wouldn’t speak too loud. The walls here have ears.”
“Come now,” was the answer, laughing scornfully. “I mean it,” said the other one, “Make sure, you have nothing on your record, that eagle eye could find out about. Especially when it concerns Redskins.” “Yes,” the bartender agreed, “Eagle eye is referred to as Friend of the Indians by many.”
The stranger laughed with a cackle. “Now we’re going somewhere! Friend of the Indians? Well, if he seeks salvation from those scabbed dogs, he cannot be much of a man himself. And when you spoke about having something on your record,” he looked around the room, searching, “are you such well behaved boys?”
There was a lot of truth to his words. Those who became goldminers in those days, was a failure of society, too lazy to work, longing to be rich as fast as possible. And if they didn’t found gold(and how many found gold), they tried different ways to become rich. Honesty and worse were used very sparingly.
The man that answered the stranger first, took his glass and gulped up the content. He gestured the barman for a refill, and he watched the stranger next to him closely.
“Stranger,” he said with urgency, “I’m not sure if you are familiar with the area…”
The stranger shook his head.
“Well then, listen up. There was a man here, Bill Sanders…”
A mumbling went through the crowd.
“You remember him, right boys? Bill was the curse of the Mining Valley. And far out, too. He was one of the best at fighting. And his gun was loose in the holster. Almost everyone knew, that the robbery on the stagecoach last year, was the work of Bill. But no one had the guts to tell him. You were assured you wouldn’t be able to repeat it. And there was no proof. Besides, who would be the first to put his hands on him?
One evening, he was here, standing in more or less the same spot you are standing now, stranger. He had quite a bit to drink, and we stayed away from him, as far as we could. Cause if he was looking for a fight… Anyway, it never came to that. Just at the moment, when he was raging and ranting, the door opened, and a big guy was standing in the doorway.
‘Bill Sanders,’ he said, ‘come here!’
Bill turned around slowly, while his hands went to his side.
‘No Bill,’ said the man, ‘you don’t have to try that with me. Hands up, I tell you, and be quick about it!’
Well, the big Bill Sanders had his hands up like a little kid.
‘I gotta get you for that robbery on the stagecoach,’ the man said. ‘You can’t prove shit!’ Bill shouted. ‘I do,’ said the man. ‘I’m Eagle eye, if you didn’t know.’
Bill did know, cause we had heard a lot about Eagle eye. But Bill didn’t feel like going to jail. ‘Hell no, I’m not going anywhere!’
Eagle eye went up to him, and in a matter of seconds he got Bill’s guns. Then he turned to us. ‘Anyone who tries to follow us, will regret it!’ he warned, while he pulled Bill’s arm behind his back, so Bill screamed from the pain, but couldn’t do anything. Bill cursed and swore, but that didn’t help. They were out the door like lightning, and seconds later we heard hoof trampling… and momentarily Bill is locked up for the foreseeable future.”
The stranger smiled and shrugged.
“Then there was the case of Mill Sundred and his troop,” the other continued quickly. “They moved on an Indian camp. Oh, they weren’t Apache. Those can help themselves. This was some peaceful tribe…”
“Tula’s, they were,” said one of the other men.
“Could be. Anyway, there were four deaths, and a few women and children were seriously injured. One evening their whole gang was here… and Eagle eye snapped them all up.”
“For a few pitiful Redskins?” the stranger called out.
“Oh,” the other one hurried to say, “we did not mind one bit. Those guys are not worth the earth they live on.”
“You are absolutely right! They should leave the land to us. And if they do not give it willingly, we will take it maliciously.”
“I just wanted to take you for such a matter, Duncan!” a clear voice said from the doorway.
Everyone turned around quickly. “Eagle eye,” someone whispered. But the stranger, called Duncan by Eagle eye, did not surrender that quickly. Fast as lightning, he pulled his gun, and at the same time he dropped to the floor…
The shot that Eagle eye fired, didn’t harm him, but Duncan’s bullet would not hit Eagle eye either. Because the doorway was so suddenly empty, that it seemed he had been swallowed by the earth. Somewhat confused Duncan looked at the door, and then to the only window in the entire bar. The other visitors of the bar, who had taken cover as soon as the shooting started, now carefully glared around. Duncan quickly crawled behind a box. “What kind of men are you!” he screamed, “to crawl into your shell for just one man! Just help out, will you?”
“He’s right!” a voice said, from behind a table, that was flipped on its side. “He has caused trouble for too long!” Several voices now spoke up.
“Well, come on, then!” Duncan shouted. “To the door. Be careful! Let’s see if we can hunt down that mister Eagle eye!”
Suddenly, there was another shot. The window shattered, and the light went out. “Watch out!” they heard Eagle eye say. “Just a reminder, I can see very well in pitch black. Whoever moves, gets a bullet. If Duncan isn’t by the door in five, things will happen to him. I got you right in my sight, Duncan! You’re sitting great behind that crate, aren’t you…”
“Godda…!” Duncan mumbled, and tried to get to safety. “Halt, no crawling away, or I’ll shoot! You alone can stand up. So, Duncan, I’m counting… One… two… three…”
As if he were driven by an invisible force, Duncan stood up, and carefully made his way to the door, using his hands for eyes.
“Going good Duncan, but if you could just drop that gun on the floor?” Clattering, the revolver fell on the floor. “Good, and now to the door.”
Duncan continued his way, but almost at the door, he was taken from two sides, pushed outside, and dragged of the stairs of the bar’s porch. A short while later there was hoof trampling…
Someone in the bar lit a match. The bartender exchanged his lamp, while one by one, the gold miners came out of their hiding places. No one spoke. Everyone stared at the door, or at the broken window…

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Somewhere in the darkness a small troop rode forth at full speed…