THE LONG RIDERS

The eleven riders where perched on a rise staring intently at the billowing puffs of smoke. The smoke was in rhythm with the chug-chug-chug of the Iron Buffalo named by the Cherokee Indians (ta-lu-gis-gi yo-ni-si). Bill Doolin with his Wild Bunch or Long Riders sat motionless on their steeds in the hot afternoon, sweat staining the band of their cowboy hats. No one moved as they waited for Bill. His steed was at rest, head hanging low, and ears flopped to the side was; the spurs would revive the beast quickly.
Bill shifted in his saddle, the horse`s ears shot up and twisted facing bill, it was time for action. The spurs dug in causing a chain reaction in the remaining ten riders, the Long Riders were ready to ride. Bill leaned back as his horse headed down the crested butte, the horses mane flowing on his descent. The eleven riders resembled a dust avalanche tumbling down the butte, in a triangle formation with Bill at the point. The long dusters they wore gave them a surreal appearance, flowing behind the riders like wings of death.
The heads inside turned in the train to inspect this onslaught of wild riders firing at the Sun, with their long coats following like shadows. Bill spurred ahead aiming for the head if the Iron Buffalo. He reached out daringly holding the saddle horn for stability as he grabbed the steel handle, then in a swoop of coordinated mastery his boots carried him home. Swiftly he clambered onto the logs and began his crawl, looking like a lizard stalking its prey.
The engineer snatched his double barreled shotgun eager to see the desperado he knew had invaded his domain. The telltale top of the cowboy hat appeared just above the logs, the double barrel spoke with authority. The hat flew off like a frightened crow as the blast caught hold. I need to stop this engineer and get this train stopped, my men cannot be letdown, and I will do this. Bill deftly crawled to the side and locked his knees, then in a bold move hanging out over the side with one hand locked in a grip to the beast and with the other gripping his revolver he had a clear shot. The train was weaving and the smoke and cinders from the smokestack were burning his eyes but Bill held steady as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet found its mark and the engineer doubled over falling off the train and under the steel wheels.
Bill pulled the brakes and the Iron Buffalo screeched like a thousand hawks with sparks flying as it stopped. The Wild Bunch dismounted whooping and hollering firing their guns. The passengers were ordered off the train in single file, and told to disrobe all except their undergarments. The gang went through the clothes and jewelry they were wearing as others rifled through the luggage. The mail boxcar yielded $3,000 dollars, the total haul was $4,500 as they mounted and rode.
After the robbery a sheriff`s posse was formed from Beaver County, Oklahoma Territory. The posse had gained quickly using a reliable Cherokee scout. Scout Menawa or scout Charlie as they nicknamed him had a sixth sense tracking. He second guessed the gang`s direction, and utilized a convenient short-cut to gain on the desperados.
Doolins gang stopped at a wide stream to water their steeds, the horses’ lips were dipped in the cool water satisfying their thirsty need. From the rise in the landscape the posse anxiously waited for the Sheriff`s signal. He raised his hand and signaled his posse into action; with guns drawn the galloping posse closed the distance.
The drinking horses were the first to sense the attack; several horses` raised their heads which alerted the gang. With guns ablaze the posse was a frightening sight descending down the hill with the sound of gunshot awakening the peaceful tranquility. The Wild Bunch spurred and the horses lunged forward in flight, causing the splash of forty four hoofs altering the flow of the stream. The opposite bank offered a respite, lined with trees the gang dug in, returning their response with the reverberation of eleven revolvers each bellowing. The posse was decimated as four riders bit the dust. Doolin was shot in the foot, and then the posse reversed, retreated, and high tailed it, the gang to escaped.
They headed for Ingalls, Oklahoma a known outlaw town. There they would rest and Doolin could nurse his injured foot. Marshal Evett Nix meanwhile organized a posse of fourteen deputies which would engage the Wild Bunch in the Infamous `Battle of Ingalls`.
Nix separated his men as they entered Ingalls. They split into four groups and started working their way through town. It was a hot dog day and the town was relaxing in the heat of the day. Doolins men were spread all over town enjoying the local hospitality, some were in the saloon, others lounging and chatting with the locals, and a few were in the hotel enjoying the company with ladies of ill repute.
Tom Jones from Arkansas had his feet on the hitching post smoking a stogie when he spotted the deputy with his gun drawn. Tom instinctively drew his custom made nickel plated .45 caliber revolver with a glossy pearl handle and sent his bullet, special delivery , no signature required, to the deputy. The deputy received the delivery and went straight to his maker. The infamous `Battle of Ingalls` had started.
The gunshot created havoc as the locals quickly scrambled for cover, ducking behind water troughs, running into local stores, and others just ran like hell. Doolins gang were immediately looking for their revolvers while others were pulling on their jeans, gamblers folded in haste, and the ones drinking downed the last shot of whiskey.
There were many skirmishes that filled the air with blasts from the revolvers. Crossfire caught two townsfolk and ended their existence. Tom advanced into the hotel after killing the first deputy and in his room hunched down behind his open window looking for a victim. He was a crack shot and the best shooter Doolin had. Two deputies spied him at the window and scurried into the hotel; they located the room and burst through the door firing as they entered, Tom was quick and rolled at the intrusion fanning his pearl handled .45, again his special delivery was perfect killing the deputies. The other Doolin members slowly retreated for the stables at the opposite end of town where Doolin had station two men earlier to guard the horses as a precautionary maneuver.
The gang all reached the stables except Tom who was injured and captured. The horses` were saddled and ready, snorting and pawing they knew it was time to get busy. Necombe was seriously injured but managed to drag himself into the saddle. They departure from the livery stables looked like a covey of spooked quail fleeing for their lives.
The bloodshed was tallied and the Marshal lost. Marshall Nix lost three men all killed by Tom and his pearl handled .45, the town lost two residents shot in the crossfire.
The gang took a breather after the battle, Doolin`s foot was hurting and Necombe was in serious shape. Bill Dalton and Doolin took this break and shared their feelings.
“I know your leavin the outfit soon, I can figure it out, you and your brothers want to start your own rowdies.”
“Yup, I miss em and we wanna hav some fun.”
“You sure hepped me get started, reckon I`ll miss ya.”
“We`re gonna be a bad hombre`s.”
“Sure enuff, just don`t shoot ur foot, dayuuum it hurt.”
The two had formed a close bond, Doolin owed Bill for getting him started. Doolin slapped Bill on his back, it would be the last time he would ever see him.
In April of 1895 the Wild Bunch robbed a Rock Island train, the bandits got away with $50.000 which resulted in the downfall of the infamous Wild Bunch. U.S. Marshal Evett Nix by special appointment was ordered to end the Territories gang problem. Nix handpicked 100 deputies with orders to clean up the scourge starting with the Wild Bunch.
By 1898 the notorious outfits were eliminated, eleven well known bandits were killed by gunshot including the infamous Bill Doolin and Bill Dalton. Their reign had ended like it started, by the gun.
Reid Jackson next literal fiction will be the fascinating story of the infamous female outlaw Belle Starr.