By midnight, Dutch and the others finally returned.
Judging by the bags and bundles of loot each of them was carrying, they had made quite a haul.
Dutch was beaming, looking absolutely delighted.
It seemed they had stolen a good amount of money, along with a large bundle of bearer bonds.
As long as they waited a while and sold them off, those bonds would bring in plenty of cash.
A victorious return naturally called for a celebration.
At Dutch’s command, everyone began dancing happily around the campfire.
Uncle, forever drunk, was the happiest of them all.
Now he could drink openly to his heart’s content.
He raised his bottle and started singing dirty songs, while Javier Escuella, the gunman, surprisingly took up a guitar and began accompanying him.
This was the first time Stephen realized that the gunman, who looked somewhat refined, really was a refined man.
Lenny, Bill, and the others were howling at the top of their lungs while dancing around the fire.
Seeing them so cheerful, Stephen found himself in a good mood as well.
He took a glass of liquor and a pack of cigarettes and sat quietly by himself, enjoying the peaceful scene.
If someone saw this scene now and Stephen told them these people were outlaws who had killed countless men, they definitely would not believe him.
“Hey, why aren’t you joining them?” A gentle, lively voice sounded beside his ear.
A moment later, someone sat down next to him.
Stephen turned his head and saw that it was Mary-Beth, the literary young woman.
“What about you?
Why aren’t you over there?
Karen and the others seem to be having a great time.” Stephen pointed at the crowd jumping and dancing.
Karen was holding up a bottle and loudly declaring that she would drink every man present under the table.
“Um, their kind of fun isn’t really for me…
Never mind that.
I saw you talking with Hosea for a long time today?” Mary-Beth thought for a good while before finally forcing out that sentence.
“Oh, just chatting.
You know how old folks are.
Sometimes they talk a lot, and someone has to sit there and listen to them ramble.” Stephen certainly was not going to tell her what he and Hosea had discussed, so he gave a vague excuse and brushed it off.
“Alright.” Mary-Beth thought for a moment, then asked a little awkwardly, “Do you like this life?
I mean, how do you feel about being with us?”
Stephen thought about it, then said seriously, “I think it’s good.
Being with you all feels easy.
I don’t have to think too much.
You people are different from ordinary gangs.
Very different.”
That was not a lie.
It was what Stephen truly thought.
The Van der Linde Gang did not have the bad habits of some other gangs, like bullying newcomers, abusing the weak, or killing people for sport wherever they went.
Besides, apart from the gunmen, the gang also had plenty of women and children with them.
For that alone, Stephen had to give Dutch credit.
The man had ideals.
Whatever those ideals were, and whether or not they were realistic, a man with ideals still deserved some respect.
“That’s good.
I thought you might not be used to this kind of life,” Mary-Beth said, smiling at Stephen.
“Why?
Do I really look that unlike a Cowboy?” Stephen asked curiously.
“Not really.
I just feel like you’re more like a…
a gentleman.
The way you talk, the way you act, it all feels more like someone from the civilized world,” Mary-Beth said haltingly, seeming a little nervous.
“Haha, the civilized world.
What exactly counts as civilization?” Stephen shook his head.
“Where there are people, there is civilization, but not all civilization is good.
Nothing is absolute.
Do those so-called civilized people who squeeze the poor dry really represent civilization?”
“Don’t cities and towns count as civilization?” Mary-Beth asked curiously.
“Of course they do.
I just don’t like them.” Stephen shook his head.
“That topic is too big, and too heavy.
Let’s keep things happy today.”
He raised his glass and drank with Mary-Beth, then leaned back against a large tree and leisurely watched the others celebrate.
Mary-Beth leaned nearby as well, chatting casually with Stephen now and then.
After quite a while, just as Stephen was starting to feel drowsy, a figure slipped out of the house in a furtive manner.
Stephen looked closely and realized it was Micah Bell, the man whose mouthful of teeth he had knocked out that day, and who was deeply hated by everyone in the gang.
The man seemed afraid of being seen.
He had a mask over his face and quietly crept to the campfire, picked up two bottles of liquor, and turned to head back.
Bill, who was nearby, spotted him and excitedly yanked the mask off his face, revealing that toothless mouth.
That set everyone present roaring with laughter.
They pointed at the miserable-looking Micah Bell and laughed until they bent over.
Their mockery cut deep into Micah Bell.
He flailed his arms wildly, snatched the mask back from Bill, then lowered his head and stormed back inside.
As he went, he turned and glanced at Stephen, who was sitting there perfectly at ease, and glared at him viciously.
Stephen leisurely raised his bottle toward him in a toast, then drained the liquor in one gulp.
There was no need to care about scum like that.
“You really did a number on him that time.
We’ve had a rare stretch of peace these past few days,” Mary-Beth said beside him with a laugh.
“Why do you all hate him so much?” Stephen asked curiously.
“That man is like a rabid dog,” Mary-Beth said, a trace of disgust appearing in her eyes.
“Whenever he has nothing to do, he comes over and harasses us girls.
He doesn’t dare actually do anything, but you know?
That feeling is just awful.”
“Then how did someone like him join the gang?” Stephen asked, gesturing toward everyone present.
“I mean, all of you are decent people.
Maybe everyone has their own problems, but you’re all good people.
As for that man, I really can’t see what he has going for him.”
“It feels like all of you hate him.
How does someone like that survive in the gang?”
“What good qualities could he possibly have?” Mary-Beth shook her head.
“He saved Dutch once before, so Dutch invited him to join the gang.”
“I don’t know why, but Dutch values him a lot.
On top of that, he really is pretty good with a gun, so sometimes we have no choice but to put up with his stupidity and arrogance,” Mary-Beth said helplessly.
Values him?
Stephen looked curiously at Dutch, who was just as cheerful as the others nearby, and felt deeply puzzled.
What exactly had Dutch seen in that man?
Stephen suddenly became very curious.
He felt that this man named Micah Bell must have some strange quality he had not yet discovered.
…
Chapter 16: An Uncertain Future
The next day, by the time Stephen climbed out of bed, the gang was already packing up and getting ready to leave.
Mrs.
Grimshaw was leading the few girls who had not gotten drunk in tidying everything up, packing each item away and loading it onto the wagons.
Dutch and Hosea stood off to the side, talking about something.
When Dutch saw Stephen come out, he smiled and greeted him.
Stephen took out a cigarette and handed one to each of them.
He lit his cigarette, took a deep drag, let the sharp taste of tobacco spread through his lungs, then slowly exhaled, clearing away the last trace of sleepiness from his body.
“Are you getting ready to leave?” Stephen asked curiously.
“That’s right.
We’re heading southeast.
There’s a little livestock town called Valentine.
Hosea says there’s a place nearby called Horseshoe Overlook, and we’re going to make camp there,” Dutch said, waving his hands as he spoke.
The man seemed to like waving his arms no matter what he said, as if it made his words more convincing.
“You’re just telling me that?” Stephen said to Dutch with a smile.
“You know I’m a bounty hunter, and the bounty on you all isn’t exactly small.”
Dutch burst out laughing, making the others turn and look over.
He slapped Stephen firmly on the shoulder and said with confidence, “You won’t.
I trust you.
I’ve never misjudged a man.
I have faith in you, and in myself.”
Stephen really had no idea where Dutch’s confidence came from.
He did not know how to answer, so he simply nodded.
“Don’t worry.
You saved Sadie from the O’Driscoll Gang.
For that alone, I won’t give away your whereabouts.”
“Oh, right, and that damned Colm.” Dutch slapped his forehead and looked at Stephen.
“We’ll go to Horseshoe Overlook first and see how things are there.
If it looks good, we’ll settle down there for now.
Then we’ll ask around for the O’Driscoll Gang.”
“I’ll find them.
I have some sources of my own,” Stephen said with a smile.
After working as a bounty hunter for so long, Stephen had informants of his own.
It might cost him some money, but that was just business, was it not?
Stephen glanced at Sadie, who was helping pack things away.
Maybe what he had said to her last time had worked.
She had looked much better lately and had started helping the others with chores.
“Sadie should stay with you for now,” Stephen said helplessly.
“There are more people here, and Mary-Beth, Karen, and the others can keep her company.
If I take her away now, I’m afraid she won’t be able to hold herself together.”
“Don’t worry, son.
We’ll take good care of her,” Hosea said from the side.
“You’re right.
At a time like this, a friend’s care is indispensable.”
“Thank you.
If not for all of you, I really wouldn’t know what to do,” Stephen said sincerely.
Of course he could take Sadie away directly, but then what?
He had to go after the scum from the O’Driscoll Gang.
Was he supposed to leave Sadie alone at home?
God, that would be a disaster.
To be honest, considering Sadie’s state before, Stephen could hardly imagine what foolish thing she might do.
Once the small talk was over, Stephen went back to pack his own things.
He did not have much, so he finished in a few quick motions.
But watching everyone else bustling around, Stephen felt a little embarrassed just standing idle.
Just then, he saw Mary-Beth dragging a heavy chest, panting from the effort.
Without thinking, Stephen walked over and gave her a hand.
The nearby girls immediately burst into exaggerated laughter, looking as if they had just found the best gossip in the world.
Mrs.
Grimshaw, meanwhile, roared at a few girls who were slacking off, frightening them into hurrying back to work.
Forget it.
He had better go rest.
If he kept helping, he might only make more trouble.
Stephen turned and walked into the stable, leading out his white horse.
The horse had been cooped up for days and was nearly bursting with energy.
Now that it could finally go out and play, it was beside itself with excitement.
If Stephen had not been holding its reins, it probably would have vanished in a flash.
Stephen adjusted its saddle, loaded all his belongings onto its back, then led it slowly to the village entrance, where everything was almost ready.
Arthur was carrying the wounded man named John on his back.
He roughly set him down onto a wagon that had already been prepared and lined with blankets.
Perhaps his movements were too rough, because John could not help letting out a cry of pain.
Arthur turned around and said to John with a look of disgust, “You ought to be paying me wages.
Good wages, too.”
John shot back irritably, “If you were my employee, I’d have fired you long ago.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.
Maybe you ought to be a rancher or something.
Right now, you look just like one of those heartless capitalists,” Arthur said sarcastically.
“Oh, really?
Thanks to you, maybe I’ll really get the chance to dock your pay someday,” John replied without hesitation.
Watching the two of them bicker was actually pretty interesting.
Arthur was always sarcastic, with a look on his face like he refused to accept anything.
John was usually cold and seemed like he barely knew how to talk, but when he mocked someone, every word struck deep.
Stephen watched them with interest.
Why did he not have that kind of tongue?
He ought to learn a little.
It might come in handy someday.
Bill dragged his prisoner, poor Kieran, over to Dutch.
“Boss, what do we do with this little O’Driscoll Gang lackey?”
Kieran cried out in misery, “How many times do I have to say it?
I really am not part of the O’Driscoll Gang.
I’m just a stablehand they captured to look after their horses.”
“Oh, we’ll find out if you’re a stablehand.
Bill, he’s yours.
Take him with us.
We’ll need him.” Dutch could not be bothered with him and simply handed him over to Bill.
Bill happily tied Kieran to his horse.
It looked like the two of them would be spending plenty of time together over the next few days.
Before long, several wagons were loaded to the brim, and everyone climbed aboard, ready to leave.
“Arthur, you and Hosea sit in the rear wagon.
I know you two like talking about the old days, and about what exactly happened to your dear old Dutch,” Dutch said cheerfully, even in the mood to make fun of himself.
Stephen rode his horse at the back of the wagon train.
Once everything was ready, Dutch gave the order, and they slowly left Colter Village.
This band of outlaws from the old era once again set foot on the road into the new era.
What waited for them ahead, tragedy or comedy?
No one knew.
Stephen did not know either.
That was what the future was like.
No one could figure it out, yet there would always be someone looking forward to it.
But as long as you kept walking forward without wavering, sooner or later, you would find out.
…
Chapter 16: On the Road
The wagon train slowly made its way through the snowy mountains, and the snow along the road grew thinner and thinner.
At last, by noon the next day, they had completely left the mountains behind.
The snow on the ground had vanished without a trace.
Everywhere they looked, long-lost green spread across the land, full of life.
The weather grew warmer and warmer.
When they crossed the final ridge, sunlight finally poured down on them fully and generously.
Everyone took off their heavy winter coats and changed into lighter clothes.
After struggling through the snow for so long, they could finally breathe a little easier, and their spirits naturally lifted.
Dutch called over Micah Bell, who had been moping in the snow for quite some time, and told him to take Lenny ahead to scout the road.
Micah Bell was reluctant, but not because he did not want to scout.
After spending so long up in the mountains and suffering so much, he could hardly wait to get out and cut loose a little.
But with half his teeth gone, even eating was a chore.
On top of that, he had to bring along a burden, which made him even less happy.
Dutch did not care about any of that.
He simply wanted someone to keep an eye on him.
Lenny was a boy he trusted, because otherwise, who knew what kind of trouble that madman might stir up?
Lenny did not want to follow Micah Bell either.
In his own words, he would rather go alone.
But with Dutch insisting, the two had no choice but to set off unwillingly.
Stephen rode his white horse close behind the wagon train.
Every now and then, he had to tug the reins to control the lively animal beneath him.
Otherwise, who knew where the spirited beast would carry him?
Clang.
As they crossed a small creek, one of the wheels on Hosea and Arthur’s wagon rolled off.
Charles, who had been behind them, caught up to take a look.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.
Just lost a wheel,” Arthur said impatiently, waving a hand.
“We need to fix the wagon quickly.” Hosea climbed down, looked at the fallen wheel, and directed Charles to lend a hand.
Stephen dismounted as well and came over to help.
He quickly told Hosea to let go, then lifted the wagon together with Charles.
Hosea was already in his fifties.
If he kept lifting for too long, his back might very well snap.
Arthur strained to put the wheel back on, then hammered it hard into place.
“Didn’t know you still had the strength to lift a wagon,” Arthur said, never missing a chance to tease someone.
He looked at the panting Hosea and laughed.
“Haha, looks like I’m not old yet.
At least, not completely.” Hosea did not take it to heart and climbed back onto the wagon.
“Who’s there?” Stephen, who had been gathering his things, sensed something wrong and suddenly looked behind him.
On a small slope behind them, several mysterious figures stood in the distance.
Everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and looked in the direction Stephen was staring.
Arthur’s hand had already moved to the pistol at his waist.
On a small rise not far above them stood three horses.
They looked like three Native Americans, staring silently at the group.
“It should be fine.
If they wanted to attack, they wouldn’t have let us see them,” Charles said calmly.
He was right.
If those Native Americans meant to attack, they would not simply be standing there watching.
In other words, if they wanted to strike, they would never have let themselves be seen beforehand.
They finished packing up, but the others had already gone far ahead.
Arthur gave the poor draft horse two hard lashes.
They had to hurry and catch up.
“Poor devils.
We did terrible things to them,” Hosea said, still uneasy.
In those years of war between the Americans and the Indians, the Americans had used every method imaginable.
Even hearing about those horrifying acts now was enough to make one’s skin crawl.
“The place we’re heading is called The Heartlands.
The land there is good for both planting and grazing.
It all belonged to them once, but now they’ve lost everything.
It was taken from them clean,” Hosea continued.
“Most of them were either killed or driven onto reservations.
Places where even birds won’t shit, where not even grass grows.”
Charles said nothing, but Arthur, still careless as ever, asked, “What about your tribe, Charles?”
Charles thought for a moment, then slowly said, “I’m not even sure I had a tribe.
I don’t remember much.
My father was a person of color.
He said he once lived with our people for a while, along with several free Black men like him.”
“But…
later, their land was taken, and after that we started wandering.
I was still young then, so I spent my whole life hiding and running.
A few years later, my mother was taken by some soldiers, and my father fell into drink.
By the time I was about thirteen, I was on my own.”
Stephen gave the Black man a deep look.
He was of mixed Black and Native American blood.
A hundred years later, that kind of identity might have served as his protection.
But in this era, it was an outright curse.
“We found Arthur when he was about that age too.
Back then, he feared nothing and learned everything fast,” Hosea said with a trace of pride, the way every old man boasted about his own child.
“I clearly didn’t learn as fast as Mr.
Marston,” Arthur said sarcastically.
Charles asked in surprise, “Do you have some problem with Marston?
Why are you always targeting him?”
Stephen was curious too.
He had long felt that something between Arthur and John was not quite right.
“I get the feeling your relationship isn’t good, but it’s different from the way you all hate Micah Bell.
It feels strange.”
Arthur said helplessly, “That’s a long story.
Why don’t we let Hosea tell it?”
Once the box of old memories was opened, the old man could not stop himself.
The three of them listened as Hosea rambled on about the past, including the grievances between Arthur and John.
Seeing that they were almost at their destination, Hosea pointed northwest and said, “Over there is the livestock town I mentioned, Valentine.
Cowboys, fugitives, pretty girls.
In short, the kind of place made for people like us.”
“I’ve been there too,” Stephen said.
“I was tracking a fugitive at the time.
The roads covered in cow shit and horse manure left a deep impression on me.
Anyway, in that damned place, if you can avoid walking, don’t walk.
It’s disgusting.”
After hearing Stephen and Hosea talk about it, Arthur and Charles became even more curious about that mysterious town.
They could hardly wait to go and take a look.
They traveled a little farther, and the forest around them gradually grew thicker.
Javier Escuella was waiting for them up ahead.
“Hey, guys, over here.
Slow down and let me jump on.” Javier Escuella stood at the edge of the woods not far away, waving at them.
“Just follow the wagon tracks.”
Javier Escuella climbed onto the wagon and said to everyone, “This is a real nice place.
I think you’re all going to like it.”
….
Chapter 17: An Unreal World
After the wagons passed through a dense little grove, the view suddenly opened up before them.
It was a broad hilltop, lush and green all around.
A bright shaft of sunlight fell over the clearing in the middle, making the place look like a hidden paradise.
The women were already setting up the new camp, and the men who had arrived first had started chopping firewood and building fires.
Mr.
Pearson was fussing over his big pot again, apparently preparing a hearty dinner for everyone.
The tents where everyone would sleep had already been pitched, and the rest of their belongings were gradually being laid out.
It was starting to look something like a proper camp.
It was still out in the open, but no matter how you looked at it, it was much better than being up in the snowy mountains.
“You were right, Hosea.
This is a good place.” Dutch looked very happy.
When he saw them arrive, he smiled at Hosea and said, “We survived.
Now it’s time for us to prosper.”
“Arthur and I were supposed to prosper back in Blackwater.” Hosea, who had just stepped down from the wagon, could not help throwing cold water on Dutch’s enthusiasm.
“We had a big plan…
but then Micah Bell got you interested in that boat, and here we are.”
Dutch looked at his old friend, then walked toward the cliff’s edge with some impatience.
“We’ve all made mistakes over the years, Hosea.
Everyone makes mistakes.
But I kept everyone together…”
“I’m just worried.” Hosea followed closely behind him, his voice trembling slightly.
“I’m worried I won’t live to see that day, Dutch.
Before that happens, I want everyone safe.”
“But now we’re trapped.
Trapped in this eastern region, penniless, and still far away from the untouched land out West that we dream of.”
Perhaps his earlier conversation with Stephen had frightened him, or perhaps old age simply made a man sentimental and anxious.
Hosea’s words were full of pessimism about the future.
“I understand.
But we’re safe.
We can make some money here, then set out again…” Dutch was growing more and more impatient, explaining his grand plan to Hosea one sentence at a time.
Arthur, who stood beside them, seemed to agree with Dutch’s plan.
He listened seriously and kept nodding.
Stephen, however, did not quite buy it.
He felt some things were not as simple as Dutch made them sound.
That untouched land out West they dreamed of might not exist at all.
Dutch seemed to have gotten addicted to giving speeches.
He brought the three of them to the cliff’s edge, spread his arms toward the sky, and spoke with passion surging in his voice.
“Can you look around you?
This world has its comforts.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, put down your tools for a moment.” Dutch turned and called to the busy camp, waving for everyone to gather.
Dutch was about to begin another speech, but Stephen had little interest in listening.
He sat alone at the edge of the cliff, looking toward the distant town.
The setting sun shone through the thin mist in the air and fell across the earth, turning everything gold.
The river in the distance glittered with shimmering golden light.
Faced with such a beautiful view, Stephen could not help lighting a cigarette.
The thin blue smoke rose and mingled with the white mist, making the place seem almost like a fairyland.
Looking through the haze at Horseshoe Overlook, Stephen suddenly felt as though the whole scene was an old yellowed photograph.
A little blurry, and somehow not quite real.
Stephen suddenly wanted to capture everything here, either in a photograph or in a drawing, just to keep it as a memory.
That settled it.
Once he had the chance, he would find somewhere to buy a camera.
He just did not know whether a small place like Valentine would have one for sale.
There were naturally cameras in this era, though they were still primitive and the pictures came out in black and white.
Still, that was better than nothing.
They were just expensive.
He did not know whether his wallet could handle it.
A burst of laughter came from the people behind him.
They seemed to have said something amusing, making Stephen turn back to look.
Dutch had already finished his speech, and everyone had scattered to get back to their own work.
Stephen looked at the gang, chaotic but orderly in its own way, and could not help feeling a faint trace of envy.
For the past two years, he had always been alone.
He wondered when he might have companions like this, good people to wander the world with.
Just as Stephen’s thoughts were drifting and he was sinking into melancholy, Mrs.
Grimshaw walked over and pulled him back to reality.
“Mr.
Stephen, we’ve prepared a place for you.
You can put your belongings there.
That is, if you’re willing to squeeze into a place like this with the rest of us.”
Mrs.
Grimshaw pointed to a row of tents nearby.
“Right there, beside Javier Escuella.”
Stephen glanced in the direction Mrs.
Grimshaw pointed.
It really was a good spot.
“Thank you, generous lady.
Please keep it for me.
I’ll need it.
But I have to make a trip to Valentine first.” Stephen took out a bill and handed it over as a tip.
“You know, I’m still an outstanding bounty hunter.
I need to see if there are any heinous criminals in Valentine who need to be brought to justice, or perhaps some suffering citizens waiting to be rescued,” Stephen said rather playfully.
Stephen planned to go to Valentine in a little while.
Aside from checking whether there were any bounties he could take, he also intended to find a place to sell all the jewelry Dutch had given him earlier.
Most of those things were worthless trinkets, but still, small change was still money.
If he wanted to buy a camera, he would have to work for it.
“Oh, if only all the men in the gang were as diligent as you, especially men like Uncle and the Reverend.
That would save me so much trouble,” Mrs.
Grimshaw sighed.
She took the bill and smiled broadly.
“If you don’t mind, you can leave your belongings with me.
I’ll put everything in order for you.”
“Oh, of course I don’t mind.
Thank you very much, ma’am.” Since someone was willing to help, Stephen naturally had no objection.
He quickly got to his feet, walked over to where his horse was tied, unloaded the various bags and bundles from its back, and handed them to Mrs.
Grimshaw, thanking her sincerely.
“By the way, please take good care of Sadie.
You know, Mr.
Jake is dead, and I still need to go out and hunt down those bastards from the O’Driscoll Gang.” Stephen looked toward Sadie in the distance and spoke to Mrs.
Grimshaw with concern.
Mrs.
Grimshaw looked at Sadie as well and let out a deep sigh.
“Don’t worry.
I’ll take good care of her.”