The dinner bell rang and we all dressed and went to eat. It was good to be able to catch my breath for a while. After dinner, I was planning to go back to the baths, but one of my letter writing customers had a letter he wanted me to read. He pulled it out of his jacket. The letter had a black border so I knew it was bad news. Amos was a poor man from somewhere in Tennessee. The letter was on good stationary and had the return address for Mrs. Aden Markham, from Memphis.
"That's my sister," Amos said. "She married a rich man." I think he knew what was in the letter and was afraid. I opened the envelope. His mother had died. I think he expected that, but was hoping it wasn't true. Mrs. Markham's letter was nice. His mother had died peacefully in her sleep after a slow decline. The letter had one odd paragraph. "Momma wants your forgiveness for treating you so badly. She asked that you forgive her for her unkindness, and hopes your life will be happy whatever road you take."
Somehow, I knew it referred to Amos' taste for men. He wanted to send his sister a letter, so I spent the next hour working with him writing it. He mentioned he was learning how to read and hoped he would be able to write her in his own hand soon. I felt good about that.
The Bishop dropped by. He had an arrangement with the Postmaster. He told the Bishop of any suspicious letters. Not everyone could afford mourning stationary, but the postmaster had a nose for that kind of a letter. The letter had arrived a week earlier.
The Bishop was good in these situations and reassured Amos with his prayers. Willy arrived as the bishop left. He lost his mother during the war and didn't find out about it for a year. He was sympathetic. We talked for an hour. I was right. Amos' father kicked him out of the house when he was 14. He caught Amos playing with a man. Amos's father was an abusive man under the best circumstances. Amos' mother wasn't able to protect him.
Amos said his mother was a small woman, and his Father was a bruiser. His Mother couldn't have helped. His sister had rescued her mother when she married. Mr. Markham was a strong and powerful man.
Willy told Amos he had dropped by to fuck me for a while. He was getting ready to say he would postpone that pleasure for another time, but Amos broke in.
"Mr. Greenmont, you can really take that monster?" he asked.
"I can."
"Is it good? It looks like it's too big to enjoy," Amos added. "I like them big, but I'm no fool."
"Maybe I'm a fool," I said.
"If you don't believe it, I can show you," Willy said. "It fits like a glove."
"You'd let me watch?"
"We've got nothing to be ashamed of," Willy replied. A few minutes later, we were all naked and I was on my back. Willy offered to let Amos "take a poke." Amos was willing, so my legs were on Amos' shoulders. Willy has sucked and licked Amos' cock so spit was the lubricant. Like most of the miners, Amos was muscular and solid. His cock appeared to be average.
He was careful, but forceful. His cock was a blunt instrument, but unexpectedly pleasurable. He was thicker that I had guessed and was a caresser, not a rammer.
"If you want to shoot, be my guest," Willy said. "Some man seed up planted deep in the chute is good for me and Ovid too."
"Is that okay with you, Mr. Greenmont?" Amos asked. "I haven't done nothing for over a week. It might be messy."
"In this situation, messier may be better," I said. Amos continued his slow and easy pace, gently rubbing his cock against my increasingly tender prostate.
"If you could squeeze a bit it would be nice," Amos said. "I'm close and that might do it." I did as he asked. Amos whole body twitched with each ejaculation. It was almost as if he had a small seizure with each volley of semen.
He slowly pulled out. Willy was ready. "It is messy," Willy said. "Some is drooling from your ass." Normally Willie enters slowly. He gets his knob in first and then eases the shaft in inch by inch. This time Willie shoved it in with a single quick movement. He winded me. Amos was impressed.
After the grand entrance, Willy adopted Amos's slow and easy technique to great effect. Amos watched and was like a six year old at the circus. He loved it all. When I woke the next morning, Willy was gone, but Amos remained and was in my ass.
The cold spell abated some and I went to write letters. I was well accepted as a safe man who would keep all letters confidential. I also had some informal classes to teach reading.
I began to hear rumors of Indian troubles. In the army, I was somewhat of a specialist in rumors. Rumors get started on the slightest suggestion of a problem, but they can spread like wildfire. As a lower ranking officer during the war, I heard more rumors than the Majors. Men heard things but were too embarrassed or uneasy to discuss them with a Colonel or a Major.
I heard everything. I discovered the rumor was the fastest form of communication before the telegraph. While most rumors were false, exaggerations or misunderstandings, a few were early warnings of a major problem.
There was no love lost between the Indians and the residents of Hardwood. Mr. Beauchamp had an understanding with the local Indians. He got along with the Chinese, Blacks and the Indians as a matter of policy. He had no particular interest in the Indian hunting areas, and they had no interest in mining. When he founded Hardwood, there was a bad winter and the Indians were starving. He provided food, and got some good will. There were touchy areas regarding sacred areas and burial sites, but he was understanding.
There were some shootings between the miners and the Indians, but Mr. Beauchamp insisted on proper Indian style burials. That seemed to impress the tribal leaders. He was very firm about unprovoked attacks on individual Indians. He thought they were cowardly, and his opinion eventually prevailed. He felt the same way about the Chinese, Blacks and the few Jews in the town.
The rumor said unaffiliated braves formed a large marauding band intent on driving whites from the territory. The major tribes were all under federal control, but individuals remained at large. Mr. Beauchamp visited the nearest Indian settlement and met with their leaders. They too had heard the stories, but said they heard the men were renegades and bandits, willing to steal from anyone who fell into their clutches.
The Indian was made up of old men, women and children, who weren't strong enough to trek south for the winter. They were defenseless. Beauchamp provided food for them in the late winter when the food ran out.
Hardwood was not on a telegraph line yet, so Beau sent Slim to nearest telegraph to check with the Army. Three days later Slim returned with the news. The Indian's were correct. It was a renegade bandit band. They were raiding in the winter when the army was essentially confined to their winter quarters.
They raided isolated homesteads, Indian camps and few small settlements. Real information was scarce, but the sense was they were making a loop from Canada, deep into the Dakotas and then returning to Canada through Montana. Hardwood was on a natural trail to the north.
Hardwood was a town, not a fort. The Chinese area and the miner's settlements were scattered little houses and cabins. There were scattered clusters of three or four cabins miles from Hardwood. We had 250 residents, of whom perhaps 150 were former soldiers, either Confederate of federal. The renegades were said to number 125-150.
We had the advantage, but a surprise attack would be bad, and any attack could cause damage and death. We had one major disadvantage. We were a mining town filled with silver.
Beau called together the town's leaders for a conference. O'Brien, Titus and Mr. Wong, his bodyguards all had military experience. O'Brien with the British in India during the Great Mutiny, Titus fighting Indians with Sheridan, and Mr. Wong had been a part of the Imperial guard. One group wanted to go out and get them before they got us. While that made sense in some respects, but sending out a war party might leave Hardwood lightly defended. An old Union man, Caleb Winslow wanted to fortify a part of the camp. He worked in the engineers and knew the value of a fort.
From a fortified place, you could send out a war party and not leave Hardwood undefended. That made sense to O'Brian. We created the Hardwood Constabulary to organize the men to protect the mines and Hardwood itself. Slim became the head of the Scouts. They were to search out the renegades. They were to give us advance warning, or, if the fortification of Hardwood was completed, get us ready to counter attack. We also set up a watch. A number of men had watchdogs so we incorporated them in the watch.
Our raiders were all mounted, so they could move quickly, but it was winter. Snow slowed them down. Caleb Winslow struck me as a buffoon. He was loud, opinionated and pompous. Much to my surprise, he also turned out to be competent. He liked fortification and had an eye for defensibility. He chose Mr. Beauregard house, the guesthouses, baths and bunkhouses as his citadel. They formed three sides of a square. The buildings were two stories high and had several cupolas that could served as watch towers. He built heavy wooden shutters for the windows with slits for rifles. The second floor windows would give us a better view of the enemy.
He built a substantial palisade across the open side of the square. Another palisade connected the main square with Mr. Beauchamp's house. We had pumps for the mines and put these in the courtyard by the bath building so we could pump water to where it was needed if there were fires. We had an unlimited supply of water if we needed it.
Some of the men complained that was too much work for what was only a possible raid. One of Slim's scouts came back with news a massacre at a homestead. Everyone was killed, scalped and then mutilated and the buildings burned. Another scout returned with the same story about a small Indian encampment. These were thirty miles south of Hardwood. The raiding party had only been of 10 to 15 men. These were the vanguard of the main group.
The griping stopped and I was amazed at how 300 men could make substantial a fortificatio if they set their mind to it. Two problems arose. The Chinatown camp was entirely undefended as was the main Indian camp. Mr. Wong and Mr. Dee suggested the Chinese man the pumps for the fire brigade. That made sense.
We had some modern repeating rifles, but there were many flintlock guns in use. Several Chinese men proved to be excellent reloading the older weapons. They loaded a second gun as the first was shot, greatly increasing the rate of fire.
Mines One and Four were easily defended, but the men in Mines Two and Three would either go to the fortified mines, or come to Hardwood. Several Indians joined Slim's Scouts. They caught sight of the main raiding party two days later. The party was heading directly toward Hardwood.
There were forty Indians, mostly women and children in there winter camp. Mr. Beauchamp said if worse came to worse he would put them in the basement of his house. The Indians moved to Chinatown when the Chinese came to Deadwood. If the danger materialized, they were just a mile away. It may sound strange, but the baths operated throughout. The men were excited, frightened and keyed-up. The baths and a full release of sperm was nothing if not relaxing. Doc Watson said orgasms are the best sleeping draught.
Amid all this confusion, we had a visitor, Aden Markham II, Amos' nineteen-year-old nephew. His mother sent him west to stay with his Uncle for a while. Why anyone would do that mid-winter was well beyond me. Amos' digs in the mining camp weren't suited for company so Amos asked if Aden could stay with me.
Aden was also lucky. He had run into Badger and One Feather, two of Slim's scout on his way here. Badger and Amos were mates, and they got the young man to Hardwood safely. I guessed there was a twenty to one he would run into our scouts rather than the Raiders. Aden talked non-stop, had no common sense and seemed to think we were all a scene from a Wild West show. I had dinner with Amos and Aden and introduced Aden to Beauchamp. Beauchamp was busy, but not too busy to miss giving the handsome young man a long look.
My military skills are clerical and organizational. That is why Colonel Meredith liked me. I kept track of who was where and when. I took a large map of the area and had markers for our men and scouts, and other markers for the Raiders. Beauchamp had the entire area surveyed as part of the mining operation. The surveyors were former federal men who had done the same for the War Department. They were superbly detailed. I knew how much and where the men and ammunition was.
I updated the locations of the markers on the map before going to bed. In the bedroom, I found out why Aden came to visit. He and Amos shared the same taste for men. He was caught with a man and his mother sent him off. I stripped for bed; he watched and then stripped. I was nude and looked at him. Aden was naked and erect.
"Mr. Greenmont, I've never seen a grown man naked before," he whispered.
"Well you will see a lot here," I replied. "This is an all male camp and there is no need for modesty."
"Really?"
"The baths next door are all naked," I said. "No one minds that at all."
"Can we go there?" he asked. "I'd like that."
"It's all old geezers and miners," I said.
"Please?"
I agreed to take him. He wanted to wait until he lost his erection, but told him the erection wouldn't be a problem. He didn't want me to tell Amos. I said Amos was probably there already. Aden loved the baths. Amos was there and both were relieved to find they shared the same tastes. Amos introduced Aden to his friends and all was well. Aden mostly fondled men and let them suck him. He had a hair trigger, but his balls refilled quickly. I think ten or twelve men got a taste of his cream.
After an hour, we got back to bed. "That was the best night I have ever had!" Aden exclaimed. "That was fun. I had no idea it could be like that," he said. "I'm new to this."
"Well you can jump in with both feet here," I replied. "Most of the men here are open minded."
"I didn't know men would do that. I thought there was just me and my pal, Joseph," Aden added. "Even he wouldn't take my cream. It was wonderful."
"Have you ever tasted it?"
He looked at me slightly sheepishly. "I tasted my own," he replied. "I've only sucked a few times. Joseph likes it and he does me."
"Well you may have to widen your repertoire here," I said. "You're young and good looking and that will get you far, but you need to give back some. Sex isn't always 50/50, but if it's 80/20 you might have a hard time keeping playmates."
"You think so?"
"I know so," I replied.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Mother sent me here because she said Amos could help me," Aden said. "He's such an old man. I don't think I could talk with him about this. Could you tell me what's the right way to do things?" While he talked, he stared at my cock. "I think I'd like to suck your cock."
I didn't do anything and Aden seemed to take that as permission. I wasn't erect, but I had been excited in the baths. Aden took my cock into his mouth. Much to my surprise, he worked his tongue into my foreskin. He didn't seem to mind the sex juices stored there. Aden worked his tongue into the deeper recesses. As I became erect and the skin pulled back, he transferred his affection to the flared edge of my cock head and the piss slit.
"Am I doing it right?" he asked.
"Yes you are. Some men like to work the knob, other like to swallow the whole thing."
"Which do you like?" He asked.
"I like it all. What do you like? How does Joseph do it?" I asked.
"He likes to swallow the whole thing. He's never tasted my cream, but I squirted some way down his throat once. He didn't know I did it. That was good for me. What is the cream? At first I thought I was some sort of thick piss, but that can't be."
"It's semen and sperm. It's what makes babies," I explained. "It comes from your balls, not you bladder. I take it you family is straight laced?"
"It is."
I laughed. "I'm a preacher's son. I knew nothing until college, but I confess I learned more about sex in Mr. Lincoln's army than from any academic study. As one of my Professor's in Philadelphia once said, sex seems to be learned more by experience than academic study." Aden returned to his sucking duty.
I got close and warned him. He glanced at me and decided to be brave. A few seconds later, he had a mouth full of my semen. He stood. Aden's cock was hard so I licked it. He rewarded me with a full load. He was a marvel as a sperm producer. I stood and saw my load was still in his mouth. He hadn't swallowed you. We kissed and mixed our loads.
When I woke, Aden was in a talkative mood. "Were the men in the back of the bath fucking?" he asked.
"They were."
"Do you fuck?"
"I do. I give and I take."
"What's it like?"
"It's better to do it that to describe," I said. "Some men like it; some don't. It's more personal than sucking."
"Do you like it? I can't see how a cock can fit in an ass."
"Take my word for it. You would be surprised at what will fit where. Sometimes a big one is a perfect fit and a smaller one hits the wrong spot," I said. "I tend to like them big, but your Uncle Amos is an average man but really does a job in your ass."
"You have taken his cock?" Aden asked. "He isn't a handsome man."
"He's a good man," I replied.
Someone knocked at my door. "The scouts just came back. Mr. Beauchamp needs you." Titus called out. Aden and I dressed quickly and raced to the map room. One scout reported a party of raiders checking out Chinatown. It was undefended, and now inhabited by Indian women and children. Slim was the other scout; he had seen the main group.
Slim thought the group was larger than earlier reports. There were as many as 300 men. One Feather infiltrated the hoard. The lure of sliver had brought more men into the band. It originally had been made up of renegade Indians; it was more of a bandit gang now.
One Feather thought a man named Jack Dawson was in command. The name meant nothing to me, but was known to the other men. He had been a free-lance Confederate raider during the war. He had betrayed his men at the end of the war. In exchange for his own freedom, he led them into a trap. He alone escaped. Several of the men went to the gallows.
They may well have gone to the gallows eventually anyway, but Jack Dawson was as despised by the former Confederates as much as Union men. Dawson was unscrupulous, vicious and greedy. He also had a taste for killing women. Mr. Beauchamp sent One Feather and an armed group of miners to get the Indian women to the main camp before dawn.
Titus knew of Dawson and his tactics. He would normally attack an isolated small community or homestead. When the men of a neighboring town went off to rescue the homesteaders, he then would attack the defenseless larger town.
"I wonder if we might give Dawson a little surprise in Chinatown." Titus asked. "They send a small band for these diversionary raids. What if they were to find real men there, not a bunch of defenseless Chinamen?"
"Who would do this?" O'Brien asked.
"We have some good fighters," Mr. Wong said. "I think the Brawlers would be good for this task too. They don't take direction well, but they love to fight. They should be able to take care of small raiding party." The Brawlers were a group of independent miners who tended to lack the social graces. They weren't an organized group, since organization was foreign to them. They weren't bad men, but they weren't easy to live with either.
By dawn, the Indian women and children were in the cellar of Mr. Beauchamp's and Mr. Wong, six beefy Chinese men and twelve Brawlers were in residence in Chinatown. It was a dangerous task. If Dawson sent his main group to attack Chinatown first, they all would be dead. This didn't seem to bother the Brawlers at all.
I went to the cupola of Mr. Beauchamp's house to look over the landscape. In the summer, there would be a cloud of dust. In the snow, there was nothing. It was a warm spring-like day. It was very quiet and I heard a rumbling form the south. At nine, we heard gunfire form Chinatown. We rang a bell calling men to arms. A little later, we sent a few men with horses out in the direction of Chinatown. I assumed Dawson had men watching us and they could assume the diversion worked.
At 10:00, the main band appeared racing toward Hardwood and full speed from the south. This was the palisaded part of our impromptu fort. We held our fire until they were close and our first volley was devastating. Our fire was impressive and wiped out the vanguard of the attack. Portions of the band swept to the east and west of us and went into the unfortified parts of the town. This gave them some shelter from our fire. We were surrounded and cut off. This we expected.
They set several houses on fire, but soon realized each burned house meant a loss of protection from our expert shooters. We had both Union and Confederate sharpshooters in the camp and they had a rivalry as to which were the better shots. The second floor windows gave them excellent views.
We heard gunfire in the distance. The bandits attacked the mines. They were well fortified and supplied. A dozen men could have easily held off a hundred men. There was a signal shot each hour from the mines to indicate all was well.
We didn't hear from Chinatown, but we later discovered Mr. Wong and his Brawlers were having a wonderful time. After killing the first band, they easily dispatched each small search party sent off to find out what happened. Oddly, the Chinese and the Brawlers had common opinions about capital punishment as well as cruel and unusual punishment.
At the first sign of the attack Mr. Beauchamp sent scouts out to contact the Army and tell them an attack was imminent. By the afternoon, the bandits rallied for a second attack. They pulled back in all their raiding parties, making up for some of their losses of the morning. This attack was better organized than the first. They attacked on all four sides. In two, they took wagons and filled them with flammables.
On the north side, the road sloped toward Mr. Beauchamp's house. The fire wagon was gravity-propelled. It rolled down the hill at an increasingly fast speed. Crashing into the palisade, it set the timbers on fire. Our firemen, were able to keep it from spreading. We had some extra timbers and the miners were ready to do the repairs as soon as the fire was out. The raiders advanced behind the confusion of the fire, but the fire didn't affect the aim of the sharpshooters.
The second fire was more serious. Raiders propelled the wagon into the side of the west bunkhouse at considerable loss of men to themselves. They managed to ram the flaming wagon into the building. This was near the pumps, so we could get water on it, but that drained labor. They broke into the bunkhouse for a while, but were beaten back. We were in good shape as dusk arrived. Indian's don't fight in the dark.
We had an uneasy night. We had several dead, and a twenty wounded. The raiders had heavy losses, at least 75 were dead, and that didn't include whatever had happened in Chinatown. Doc Watson was working with the wounded. Our men were making repairs and getting ready for the next day's attacks.