Murrow Farm

Murrow Farm

By William Keleny

The axe hit the post, causing the ravens to take flight.                                                                                                             I’ve finally got the technique right                                                Lee watched the Ravens as they took to the blue Montana sky. He was proud of his skill with the axe and with the knife.                                                                 Enough play you stupid boy. Time to get to work.                    He filled the water bucket as Trajan bounded out of the front door.                            “You OK boy.”                                                                                                              He scratched the Mountain Cur under the chin. As Trajan went to scout the perimeter of the farm, he took up the bucket and started feeding the chickens.                                                               It was then that he smelt rotting meat, and heard heavy uneven footsteps. The huge figure of his brother Duncan was milling about outside the house, munching on a bar of candy with his long hair swinging too and fro.                “Hey Duncan!”

“Huh.”                                                                                                             “I told you to help Nancy with the grub.”

It took Duncan a second to understand what his brother had just said. “Grub,” he squeaked enthusiastically and hurried inside.      Lee put down the water bucket and waved his arms at some prairie dogs that had wandered onto the property. They barked and slavered, but with Trajan’s help they were soon driven away. Lee hated it when the dogs came. Of all the noises a man could hear in Montana; the screaming of Indians, the long rifles of the mountain men, it was the wild dogs that made his head aches worse. He always had to drop whatever he was doing. The world became fluid, and the mountains shifted like triangles of black fire.  “Excuse me!”                                                                                                                He saw now that two people were standing just outside the fence. They both looked very tired and Lee guessed they had been walking for miles. The man had a great big handlebar moustache and a rifle slung over his shoulder.  The girl was wearing a purple dress and a blanket over her shoulders. They were both very grimy and disheveled but Lee thought the man was a soldier. Yes, it was on his hat; The cross sabers of a cavalry regiment.                                                                                                      “We’re sorry to disturb you.”                                                                                                        The world stopped swimming, and he took the axe out of the post.

“What would you be wanting?”

“Kind sir, I’m Lieutenant Howard Buckland. This is my fiancé Elizabeth. We need a place to stay the night. We were attacked by Indians and our horses bolted. We would be willing to pay.”                                                                                                                Lee heard Nancy emerging from the house.                                                              “What’s all this Lee?”

“Looks like we got ourselves some lodgers.”                                                          “More lodgers?” Nancy drawled.                                              “It ain’t gonna be no problem,” said Lee. “Duncan loves guests.”

     Duncan and Nancy were natural partners when it came to food.  If Nancy wanted to rest and tend the garden, she could just leave him to it. The boy seemed happy when cooking.                                                                                                    “The best in Montana,” said Nancy, as she spooned out the stew. “Thankyou,” said Howard. He and Elizabeth started eating desperately. Duncan poured out some water for them, and milk for him and his siblings.                                                                    “So what’s the deal?” Nancy asked, her bracelets and necklaces jingling as she sat.                                                                                                                 “We were with a column of soldiers and families, moving South from Fort Pickett…I….”.                                                                                                                 His head was wavering. Lee had always told Nancy not to question guests when the mountain road had clearly got to them. But a soldier; he had to admit there would be an interesting story with this one. Elizabeth saw that it was time for her to take over.                                                                                                                “It was four days ago the Sioux set upon us,” she said. “We fought back but we got separated from the main column. We don’t know if anyone else made it.”                                                                                                                   Duncan suddenly pointed enthusiastically at Howard.           “Hat,” He said happily                                                                                                           “Yes Duncan,” said Nancy, “hat.”

“Soldier.”                                                                                                        Howard laughed.

“Yes……”, said he. “Lieutenant Howard Buckland at your service.”

“Bang, bang!” said Duncan.                                                                                                         “He loves soldiers,” said Nancy. “Don’t you Duncan?”

“Bang bang.”                                                                                                             “Bet you shot lots of them Indians,” said Lee.                      “About twelve,” said Howard wearily. “They were on us before we could form a circle. My friend Johnny got shot off the back of the wagon. We were speeding down Andersons pass trying to keep up with the others.”                                                                                                          “Bang, bang.”                                                                                                             “We lost sight of them on one of the smaller roads. Then the wheel broke off the wagon. They followed us for another two days. Then the horses fled. We wandered through the forest for about…….Oh I can’t recall……” He swigged some water.                                                                                                             “Big strong horses,” said Duncan. He swung his head back in imitation of a horse rearing. He nearly over balanced and hit his arm on the mantlepiece. “Duncan, stop being silly,” Nancy ordered.                                                                     The mantlepiece shuddered, and Aunt Catherines portrait fell.                     “Duncan stop,” said Lee as he retrieved the portrait ,“He’s just excited by guests you see.”                                                                                                                    Howard and Elizabeth laughed politely as Lee repositioned Aunt Catherine. Pleased with himself that he had put on a good show, Duncan started examining the trinkets around his neck                                                                                        “I consider myself Blessed,” Elizabeth continued, “That men like Howard still exist in America.” She put her hand on her beau’s arm. “We first met at West Point.”

“Beautiful body.”                                                                                                             The rain was coming down heavily, and Trajan could be heard licking up any food that fell from the table.                                                                                           “Duncan!” Nancy exclaimed.                                             Duncan took his eyes off Elizabeth.                                        “You can’t say things like that to our guests.”                                                                          “Did you ever meet General Custer?” Lee asked politely.            It took a moment for Howard to register the question.                                                       “Yes. I met him at a gathering in New York,” he told them. “I had the honour of being photographed with him.”                                                                                                               “Beautiful long hair,” said Duncan. “Beautiful….                                                                                   “Yes,” Nancy interrupted. “How did Custer keep his hair like that.” Elizabeth resumed eating.  “I’ve been trying to get mine right for years.”                           “Little Big Horn,” said Duncan grandly.                                                                         “Yeah,” said Lee through a mouthful of stew. “I tell it too him every night. Never notices when I change details just for a joke; The story of the Little Big Horn.”                                                                                                             “Yes, a great hero lost,” said Howard, “But not without a fight.” He continued to eat his stew. “Could I have more water. I’ll give you an extra dollar.”

The next morning, without waiting for the siblings to wake, Howard and Elizabeth took up their knapsacks, and stepped out into the chill. As the morning mist began to disperse, they made their way down the long road towards Charlotteswood Montana. About a mile from the town they encountered a rancher who gave them a ride on his wagon. The two of them swayed with exhaustion, and thanked God for their deliverance as the vehicle trundled into town. As Elizabeth awoke, she could hear piano music, and the laughter of saloon patrons. As Howard helped her off the cart, she saw a group of men in uniform smoking cigars.                 “Howard!” said a senior officer with a white beard. “Beyond all hope, you are alive. And Miss Elizabeth, what a joy it is to see you.”                                                                                                               It was Colonel Henry Simmons, the officer in charge of the column from Fort Pickett. “You…..get some rooms prepared.” A young cavalryman dropped his cigarette and disappeared into the saloon. The officers hurried forward. One took Elizabeth by the arm and another relieved them of their knapsacks.                          “Let me help you my boy.” The colonel and another officer were flanking him. “Are you hurt?”

“No sir, just hungry and tired.”                                                                                                             “We were sure those savages had got you,” said a captain with red whiskers.                                                                              “But we need not have been afraid,” said Simmons cheerfully. “A hero of Gettysburg beaten by Sitting Bull and his painted devils. No sir, not likely.”                                                                                                             Elizabeth was weeping.                                                                                                         “Miss,” said a man she recognized as one of the doctors. “What’s the matter.”                                                                                                          “We stayed at a house a few miles away,” she told him. “There was this horrid man who kept looking at me.”

“Don’t think about that no more Miss,” said the red whiskered captain, “Your safe now.”                                                                                                                                                                                               

   All the mess cheered as they entered the saloon.        “Whisky and roast beef on the double quick,” yelled Simmons. As soon as Howard and Elizabeth were welcomed, dined, bathed and sleeping soundly, Simmons sought out Thomas Cutler of the New York Times.                                                                                                            “You want something to say Mr Cutler. Do them fancy folk in New York need a morale boost after the Little Bighorn; something cheerful to talk about over their sumptuous dinners. Write this down then. On 14^th August 1876, the brave men and women of the Fort Pickett Column, made it safely to Charlotteswood Montana. The Sioux are fleeing in terror.” The reporter wrote with relish. “Elizabeth Stowe, daughter of General James Stowe, of Shiloh fame, was saved from the savages by Lieutenant Howard Buckland. That’s your story.”

  “God Damn it Nancy, we over slept. Those folks’ll be on the road by now!” Lee was trampling around the yard, tomahawk in hand, ready to strike anything that came near.                                                                                                               “Oh quit your whining you little piggy,” said Nancy. “You’re making my headache worse. They paid us didn’t they!”                                                                                                             “But they must have had valuables,” Lee screamed.

“Then you should have jumped them at the table.”                                                                               “How were we to do that,” said Lee miserably. “That boy was a fighter and he looked pretty handy with that rifle. We had to wait till they were asleep.”                                                     Nancy was as disappointed as Lee, but she did not blame him for his caution. It was always different when the guest was a soldier. They had a certain instinct for danger that you had to respect. But it was still embarrassing though, to have missed some extra beans because of oversleeping. Loud snoring was still coming from Duncan’s room.               

She went in and shook him.                                                                                                                “Wake up. Go make sure them dogs ain’t dug up the garden.”                                                                                         Duncan stirred.                                                                                                           “Doggys?”                                                                                                      “That’s right. We got a lot to catch up on. We’ve been sleeping all morning.”

Behind the house was the gathering of withered plants that constituted the Murrow families’ garden. At the far end, a wild dog was inspecting one of the bushes. Duncan ran at it with all the ferocity he could muster, and the animal fled into the woods. He was about to go back inside when he saw there were two more approaching through the trees. He ran at them and they too trotted away. Then he saw that the first dog had unearthed a skull. He took it and smashed it into as many fragments as he could. It was then he decided he didn’t want to go back inside. He wandered out into the woods and sat down on a fallen tree. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought this was the exact same place where they had killed the trappers. It was ten years ago. Bang, bang, bang, bang. Splinters and fear, and Aunt Catherine shouting orders.                             “Lee, get the rifle. They’re coming from the woods.”                                                       

Lee had shot the scrawny one in the chest but the one with the beard kept firing. Trajan had ripped some of the flesh off his forearm. Then Catherine had shot him in the leg, and he had hobbled back into the trees, firing as he went. Duncan and Nancy had chased him down. Nancy shot him in the back and Duncan stabbed him in the neck. While Nancy and Lee finished off the attackers, Duncan had run back to Catherine. She was slumped against the wall of the house with blood on her belly. “Duncan…..you need to listen.”

Confused and weeping he had leaned in close.                                                                                             “You need to look after Lee and Nancy. They have done bad things. And they’re gonna do bad things again. They’re going to need you. Look in my satchel. There's a small green bottle.”

Duncan remembered the bag she always carried with her when she left the farm. “Whenever Lee and Nancy look like their going to do a bad thing, you give ‘em some of that. Put it in their milk. There’s a man just off the North Road who brews it. He’ll trade it to you for candy, necklaces, any little bits you can find.                        She grabbed him by his chubby wrist.                                                                                                             “You wont be able to save everyone who steps across our threshold.”  

Duncan decided to rest in the woods before taking on Murrow farm for another day.