The Floating Outfit 47 Read online

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  Mark Counter, blond giant of Ole Devil Hardin’s floating outfit, was famous throughout the West for his strength, his skill as a cowhand, his prowess with the ladies, and an ability second only to Dusty Fog when it came to a lightning-fast draw.

  But Mark had kin who were almost as famous as he was.

  Here, in one volume, is the story of Mark Counter’s famous kin—James Allenvale Gunn, better known as Bunduki, Chief Game Warden of an African Wildlife Reservation—Brad Counter, Deputy Sheriff in Rockabye County—Sergeant Ranse Smith, member of the elite but little-publicized Company Z of the Texas Rangers—and Jessica and Trudeau Front de Boeuf, two of the most likeable rogues who ever trod the Old West.

  THE FLOATING OUTFIT 47:

  MARK COUNTER’S KIN

  By J. T. Edson

  First published by Transworld Publishers in 1990

  Copyright © 1990, 2020 by J. T. Edson

  First Digital Edition: May 2020

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges

  Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.

  Publisher’s Note:

  As with other books in this series, the author uses characters’ native dialect to bring that person to life. Whether they speak French, Irish, American English or English itself, he uses vernacular language to impart this.

  Therefore when Scottish characters use words such as “richt” instead of “right”; “laird” for “lord”; “oopstairs” for “upstairs”; “haim” for “home”; “ain” for “own”; “gude sores” for “good sirs” and “wha” for who” plus many other phrases, please bear in mind that these are not spelling/OCR mistakes.

  Author’s Note

  When supplying us with the information from which we produce our books, one of the strictest rules imposed upon us by the present day members of what we call the ‘Hardin, Fog and Blaze’ clan and the ‘Counter’ family is that we never under any circumstances disclose their true identities, nor their present locations. Therefore, we are instructed to always employ sufficient inconsistencies to ensure neither can happen.

  We would like to point out that the names of people who appear in this volume are those supplied by our informants in Texas and any resemblance with those of other persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  We realize that, in our present ‘permissive’ society, we could use the actual profanities employed by various people in the narrative. However, we do not concede a spurious desire to create ‘realism’ is any excuse to do so.

  As we refuse to pander to the current ‘trendy’ usage of the metric system, except when referring to the caliber of certain firearms traditionally measured in millimeters—i.e. Walther P-38, 9mm—we will continue to employ miles, yards, feet, inches, stones, pounds and ounces, when quoting distances or weights.

  J. T. Edson

  Part One – A Good Time Was Had by All

  Featuring

  James Allenvale ‘Bunduki’ Gunn

  Although Ambagazali could not compete with Kenya in size, it was considered to be beaten only by that country in the volume of tourists who came to help support its healthy economy, and the number of attractions offered for their entertainment. Certainly nobody who visited the capital city of Ambaga could deny the Black Rhino Hotel was equal to the best anywhere else in Africa and its Big Five Room rated high amongst the most luxurious restaurants in the continent. The cuisine was excellent, whether ‘local’ dishes, or the finest type of banqueting from Europe and the United States. Therefore, despite the high prices charged and the fact that there was only a single sitting for dinner each night, business was invariably good and the chances of obtaining a table without having a reservation were practically nil.

  As usual, on that particular evening, the Big Five Room was full. What was more, in addition to the normal variety of clientele, a group of very important people were present in a party hosted by Prince Simba Nyeuse, the well liked and respected ruler of Ambagazali. King Latu Kham and Queen Mei Kwei-Ho of Camchakton in South-East Asia were his guests of honor. 1 Others at the table included Cyrus D. Hollinger, a film producer from Hollywood whose stated intention was to ‘bring back “message “-free action-escapism adventure movies to the cinema, along with the audiences who used to pay to see them’. He was accompanied by the stars of the movie ‘LORNA, RULER OF THE JUNGLE’, which he had just completed shooting on location in the country, Donna Lindstrom, Maria Thorton—respectively the beautiful heroine and equally glamorous villainess—and the handsome, muscular hero, David Blackett. Also at the table were Colonel Sandru Katamundoni, head of Ambagazali’s Bureau of Internal affairs and the King’s Chief Of State Security, Colonel Lom Tak.

  Towards the end of the meal, before the thick locally made carpet could be removed from the open area in the center of the room to allow dancing to commence, attention was drawn away from the V.I.P.’s table and its illustrious occupants.

  ‘What a magnificent couple,’ a female diner gasped, her accent that of a Texan and her attire suggestive of great wealth.

  A similar sentiment was being uttered at several tables around the room!

  Nor could anybody suggest the description was inaccurate!

  The man and woman who entered had looks and physiques unequalled even by the trio of film stars!

  Six foot three in height and in his early twenties, the man had shortish wavy golden blond hair and almost classically handsome tanned features. Like the majority of customers, he was dressed formally. The white tuxedo he wore set off a physical development which would not have been judged out of place if he had entered for a ‘Mr. Universe’ competition. The great spread of his shoulders trimmed to a narrow waist set upon long and powerful legs. However, for all his great size, he showed no sign of being slow or clumsy in his movements. Rather he carried himself with an easy grace which was indicative of a potential for speed when required as well as Herculean strength.

  About the same age and measuring five foot eight, the woman seemed an ideal mate for her companion. Curly and cut short, her tawny hair framed exceptionally beautiful features whose lines denoted breeding, strength of will and intelligence beyond the norm. To add to the suggestion of wild, almost primitive, freedom which she exuded, clearly powerful, yet not unfeminine, muscles played under smooth skin just as bronzed by the elements as that of her companion. Unadorned by jewelry of any kind, but enhanced by the rich golden tan, the plain halter necked and sleeveless white satin evening dress she wore established that she possessed the kind of figure many a ‘sex symbol’ movie actress sought to attain. The contour-hugging fit of the garment, its skirt slit high enough along each side to give tantalizing glimpses of her shapely legs in black stockings and high heeled red mules, proved beyond any doubt that her most curvaceous form was not produced by any kind of artificial aids.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked the husband of the woman from Texas, whose fortune was derived from the oil business in that State. ‘The feller puts me in mind of Big Andy Counter, or his cousin from Amarillo, Ranse Smith.’

  ‘He’s more like young Bradford Counter, the one who’s gone to being a deputy sheriff down to Rockabye County,’ the woman declared. ‘They’re
’like enough to be twins.’

  ‘His name’s James Allenvale Gunn,’ replied the local businessman who was guest of the Texans. ‘They call him, “Bunduki”—!’

  ‘“Bunduki!”’ the woman interrupted. ‘But that’s the Swahili word for a gun, isn’t i—Oh sure, now I get it. His surname’s “Gunn”—!’

  ‘You’ve got it all right, momma,’ the Texan admitted dryly, although his attention was not directed at the young man under discussion.

  ‘Who is he, Joe?’ the woman asked, eyeing the blond giant with open admiration.

  ‘He’s the adopted son of Lord Greystoke—!’ the businessman began.

  ‘You mean Tarz—?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Since all those movies supposedly about him were made, especially the most recent, he prefers that people call him Lord Greystoke,’ the businessman interrupted. As he went on with his explanation he nodded from the young man to the V.I.P.’s table. ‘Anyway, Bunduki’s the Chief Warden of the Ambagazali National Wildlife Reserve and a good friend of the Prince.’

  ‘How about the girl?’ inquired the husband and received a coldly disapproving glare from his wife.

  ‘She’s his cousin, Dawn Drummond-Clayton,’ the businessman supplied. ‘Runs the Physical Culture Class at the Ambaga University and is training our team for the next Olympic Games.’

  While the conversation was taking place, the couple were crossing the floor towards the V.I.P.’s table. However, before they arrived, two big and bulky men with the currently fashionable ‘designer’ stubble on their faces rose and, leaving behind a young blonde woman almost matching Dawn in looks, height and form, they slouched forward until confronting the handsome young couple.

  ‘All right, man,’ said the taller and heavier of the pair, his deep voice having the somewhat guttural accent of those who would have been called ‘white settlers’ in earlier decades. ‘What’s the idea of not giving Willie and me the shooting licenses we asked for?’

  ‘Yes, man,’ the second man supported. The words came out as, ‘Yis, men’ and his tone was indicative of similar origins. Jerking his thumb towards the beautiful and shapely young woman at their table, he went on, ‘Minna, Carl and me want to knock down a couple of bloody leopards that’s been living off our watu’s goats.’

  ‘The last time it was elephants that were damaging the maise shambas,’ Bunduki replied, knowing the Swahili word ‘watu’ was being used in this case to mean the workers on a farm rather than people in general. ‘And before that, you said a pride of lions were taking your cattle. This time, I want proof before I turn you loose to start shooting.’

  All the locals in the room and some of the visitors understood what the conversation was about!

  To preserve the wildlife of the country, but also to avoid friction with farmers and others who suffered from depredations by animals, Prince Simba Nyeuse, with the help of Bunduki, had established rules which were both fair and generally effective. Except in clearly defined areas and under very strict supervision, no hunting of any kind was permitted throughout Ambazali. However, it was accepted from the beginning that the rights of the human population must be protected. Therefore, in addition to the Game Department taking punitive action where necessary, a farmer was allowed to shoot any animal which was killing his stock or endangering his workers.

  To prevent abuses of the ruling, those creatures which provided the most valuable saleable commodities—the skins of leopards and lions, elephants’ tusks and the horns of rhinoceros, for example—were designated ‘royal game’. While a permit to shoot would be issued, providing there was proof of guilt, the entire carcass of the animal was classified as property of the State. That did not mean it was wasted. Rather it was used to help fund the Game Department and alleviate whatever financial loss had been incurred by the complainant. After it was valued for sale, the price of the damage it had inflicted was given to the injured party and the Department received the remainder. Naturally, human nature being what it is, although there was not as much money to be made as would come from a private sale, there had always been, and would always be, those who tried to circumvent the ruling for their own profit.

  ‘Are you calling us liars, man?’ Carl challenged, looking menacing.

  ‘Have it any way you like,’ the blond giant answered calmly. ‘But come to my office in the morning and we’ll talk about it there.’

  With that, Bunduki stepped forward and, surprisingly in view of their threatening demeanor, the pair moved apart as if to let him pass. However, as he was doing so, Willie caught him by the shoulder and jerked him around to send a blow to his jaw which drove him into Carl’s open and waiting arms. Encircled by them, he was held by the shorter man so the larger could step forward and drive another punch, this time into his stomach.

  Startled exclamations arose from all around the room. However, even as the maitre d’ hotel was about to signal for the burly members of the staff who served as bouncers on the rare occasions such duties were required, his attention was attracted by a gesture from Prince Simba Nyeuse. Reading the meaning of the prohibitive wave which was given correctly and noticing Colonel Katamundoni was restraining the Oriental officer at his side, the maitre d’ concluded there was no need for preventive measures to be taken. Although puzzled by his ruler’s attitude, he waved back the men who had started to move towards the open space and awaited developments with interest. What was more, following the example of the royal party, the other customers remained in their seats and watched what was happening.

  Before Willie could continue the attack, Dawn Drummond-Clayton set about rendering assistance to her cousin. Emerging from the slit in the skirt, her right leg delivered a powerful kick to his assailant’s rump. Letting out a profane exclamation, the burly man turned and, placing the palm of his right hand against her face, he gave a shove which sent her reeling until brought to a halt by reaching the table he and Carl had vacated. Judging by appearances, she was neither incapacitated nor frightened by what had happened. Giving a hiss of anger, she started to push herself forward. However, rising and overturning her chair, Minna intervened. The grab she made hooked her fingers into the low-cut back of Dawn’s gown and, as she gave a pull, there was a ripping sound as the material burst open.

  Granted a momentary respite by his cousin’s intervention, Bunduki made the most of it. As Willie turned his way, he braced himself against Carl and swung his feet from the floor. The thrust he delivered with them to the barrel-like chest sent the larger of the men away as effectively as the tawny haired girl was removed. Bringing down his feet, he stamped the left upon the toes of his second assailant which, eliciting a yelp of pain and caused the grip upon his arms to be relaxed. Throwing his own apart with a surging heave which displayed his magnificent muscular development to its best advantage, he escaped from the hold and pivoted to crash home a right cross which slammed its recipient backwards a couple of steps.

  Realizing what had happened, but apparently oblivious of her far from over-sized black lace bra, briefs and scarlet suspender belt being brought into view, Dawn forget about going back to aid her cousin. Instead, she spun around and lashed a slap which rocked Minna’s head sideways. Then, plunging her fingers into the extreme décolleté of a black satin evening dress as revealing as her own, she repaid the damage by giving a wrench which split it asunder down the front. Instead of showing embarrassment over having her no more substantial blood red undergarments displayed, the blonde retaliated with just as hard a backhand blow. Although the impact rocked Dawn on her heels, a moment later their fingers were buried into one another’s hair and, losing their mules—which were ill adapted for such strenuous activity—they went in a twisting stagger towards the center of the open space.

  Retaining his footing and lowering his head, Willie rushed forward like a bull buffalo launching a charge. Proving that the suggestion of agility he exuded was correct, Bunduki stepped aside at the last moment. As he blundered by, Willie received another kick to his butt. Th
is time, it proved more efficacious and he was propelled onwards until reaching the wall. However, Carl had been allowed a respite and swung the blond giant around to send a punch into his chest which drove him backwards. Following up the attack, the smaller of the pair was less successful with the kick he launched. Catching the rising ankle in both hands, Bunduki subjected it to a twisting heave which caused Carl to flip over and alight with a thud on the floor.

  Changing tactics when clear of the tables, Dawn released Minna’s hair and caught her by the right arm to pivot and subject her to a shoulder throw with speed and precision. Breaking her fall with an indication of skill as she came down, the blonde brought up her feet. Bending over with the intention of continuing the attack, Dawn had them rammed against her body and she was pitched forward in a somersault to descend supine on the thick carpet. However, she too arrived in a fashion which proved she was just as competent at avoiding the worst effects of such treatment. Instead of tackling the tawny haired girl immediately, Minna rolled across the floor to grab Bunduki by the right leg and sink her teeth into his calf. Her attempt to hang on to the limb for long enough to let her companions capitalize upon the distraction was ended by Dawn diving after her. Grabbed by the back hair, she was compelled to release her hold and was hauled away until able to twist around and catch her assailant by the flapping, skirt of the badly torn white dress.

  Although the relief produced by his cousin was welcome, Bunduki was far from being out of danger. Rebounding from the wall as if he was a rubber ball, Willie was returning swiftly to the fray. What was more, proving that he had escaped the worst effects of the throw, Carl was starting to get up. The blond giant’s white jacket had burst along the back seam under the strain caused by his struggles and he shrugged himself clear of it before the larger attacker reached him. Ducking beneath a looping right swing which was hurled his way, he slammed his fist into Willie’s midriff. However, he was prevented from following up the blow by seeing Carl plunging towards him.