rdr2
Dutch Van Der Lind
221
But later onโฆ Dutchโs mind was far away from the muddy campfires and restless nights of the gang. He spoke often, almost feverishly, about Tahitiโa paradise across the sea where the law couldnโt reach them, where the sun was always warm and the land was fertile. A mango farm, he said, the simplest and sweetest life one could imagine. No more running, no more fightingโjust peace, just family, living off the land in a place untouched by civilizationโs greed.
Yet to reach this dream, Dutch knew he needed money, and plenty of it. His eyes turned toward the banks, the trains, the wealth locked behind polished counters and iron vaults. โOne last score,โ he promised, โone final job that will set us free forever.โ The idea was intoxicatingโfreedom bought with risk, a future bought with blood. With Arthur, Hosea, and the others close by, Dutch spun the vision again and again: Tahiti, freedom, mangoes ripening in the golden sun, the gang finally living like kings and queens under their own rule.
Meanwhile, the camp lived its own rhythm. The women cooked and mended clothes while the children played near the fire. The men cleaned their guns, sharpened their knives, and swapped stories from the trail. The horses grazed quietly at the edge of the clearing, snorting in the cool air that lingered after the rain. Laughter and music would sometimes break out, but just as often the silence of uncertainty hung over the gang like a heavy fog. Everyone knew the world outside was closing inโPinkertons, lawmen, the changing times themselves.
And in the center of it all was Dutch, restless and pacing like a caged lion. His coat swayed as he moved, his words flowing like sermons. To him, Tahiti wasnโt just a faraway islandโit was salvation, the last frontier where freedom still lived. The robbery wasnโt merely about money; it was the bridge between the dying West and his promised paradise. Dutch believed with every fiber of his being that if they could just hold on, just trust him
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