Cry of the Hawk

“Might say that. What to do, where to go.”

“And most of all—just who to punish?”

He grinned widely. “In the name of God, I think you must feel the burning yourself!”

“Burning?”

“The burning in the bosom! Don’t you feel it when you’re doing God’s work to stamp out evil on earth?”

“As one of Brigham Young’s Angels?”

“As Angels of Jesus Christ in the latter days—our Lord and Savior! As the Prophet said it, and Colonel Usher reminds us—there are few called upon to do the dirtiest of work to prepare the way for the new Kingdom here on earth. Those who take up the sword in the name of Jesus Christ, to smite the evildoers, these will surely be anointed in Zion come the Judgment Day.”

When Hastings’s platoon arrived, they found more of their number already there to welcome them to the fleshpots of Dobe Town.

It was a joyous reunion, finding Major Boothog Wiser and his entire company awaiting news from the east. There was backslapping and pump-handle shaking of hands all around, sharing of jokes and stories of the trail and offers to buy a round of drinks for all. And apart from the rest stood the one Jonah took to be Wiser himself—down at the end of the bar, with a bottle all to his own and that custom-made boot at the end of his leg.

“Who’s the new man, Captain Hastings?” Wiser called out from the far side of the noisy celebration.

Hook figured Wiser had caught him studying the major. He felt a nudge now and found Hastings at his elbow, prodding him down the bar, through the reveling crowd of horsemen just off the trail. To meet the major himself.

“This is a new man I picked up back at the Missouri.”

“I see, Captain.” He drank a little from his glass, eyes studying Hook over the rim. “Where you from?”

“Missouri.”

“You sound Southern.”

“I am. Born in Virginia.”

“You fight for the Confederacy?”

“I did. General Sterling Price.”

“I knew this Price,” Wiser said. “Fought him myself. Perhaps we were on different sides of a battlefield at one time.”

“Ain’t likely. War ended early for me. I was captured.”

“Prisoner, eh? What then? You see the light—and figure the grand republic was worth saving?”

Hook wagged his head. “Weren’t that way, Major. The Union will take care of itself. I figured the Yankees and their grand republic can just leave me be and let me get on with my life.”

Wiser grinned slightly and brought the glass from his lips. Then held out his hand. “Lemuel Wiser. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Jonah Hook, Major.”

“Pleased to have you with us, Jonah. You care to stay with Captain Hastings’s platoon of scouts—and if he wants to keep you with him—that’s fine by me.”

“By all means, I’d like him to stay with my outfit, with the major’s permission,” Hastings said. “Jonah’s had experience fighting Indians.”

“Indians?”

“Sioux and Cheyenne,” Hastings replied to Wiser’s question.

“Where was that, Jonah?”

“Out on the Emigrant Road. On the Sweetwater. North Platte. With General Connor’s expedition to Powder River.”

“My, my,” Wiser said approvingly, glancing quickly at Hastings with a bright light in his eyes. “You just might do to ride back home with us, Jonah.”

Hook felt the first wings of hope take flight. “Thank you, Major. I was hoping to meet the colonel himself soon too. Heard so much about you both.”

“You’ve learned of Jubilee Usher?”

“Yes, Major. Is he with you?”

Wiser grinned, on his face a benevolent light. “The colonel will meet us at Fort Laramie, Jonah. He has taken a different route.” He looked at Hastings. “And we will all go forth from here to effect that rendezvous with the colonel.”

“How soon we pulling out, Major?”

Wiser looked back at Hook. “Captain, we have a few days to spare. And I plan on spending them here. The men with me have rarely had money of late with which to gamble. And when they have had the money—it seems most no longer have the heart to gamble with me.”

“I take it you like to play cards, Major?” Hook asked.

“You a gambler, Jonah?” The light brightened behind his eyes.

“Let’s say I get serious about a game of cards every now and then.”

“Perfect! Simply perfect!” Wiser called out to the bartender to bring over two more glasses into which he poured drinks of the red whiskey. “Captain Hastings—first a toast to you for enlisting so splendid a recruit as Mr. Hook appears to be.”

“I figured he’d do, Major.”

“Indeed.” Wiser studied this new recruit. “Any man who believes the U.S. government should damn well stay out of the affairs of its citizens—especially the religious affairs of a growing population—that man should do well upon our return to Deseret.”

“This grand republic got no business telling any man how to run his life, Major.”

“Splendid, Jonah! Just what we have been saying for years now. There is, you are aware, a separation of church and state in the Constitution drafted by our Founding Fathers?”

“I never knew that. No, Major.”

“The Founding Fathers knew best—that it was God’s plan that our government should keep its hands off the religious affairs of the people.”