Star Gazer grabbed for the lowest limb but
the bear wouldn’t be outsmarted and clawed at
his leg, leaving deep gashes, like ruts over
soft ground. Blood spurted out with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He
screamed as he tried to lift the injured leg out of reach; he was
losing blood fast. In no time he would pass out and fall into the
waiting jaws of this killer. Again he cried out, hoping someone
would hear his terror. But his chances were slim; he was too far
from the camp. The bear swung again, missing him by inches but he
knew that this made the creature grow angrier.
He was losing his grip on the branch as his
consciousness began to ebb away. In his foggy mind he thought he
heard a shot and the bear howled in pain. The angry animal turned
on his assailant; a young man, no older than himself, stood close
by with a smoking gun in his shaking hands. The grizzly, only
slightly wounded saw an easier target giving him a moment of
reprieve. He prayed for the youth who stood frozen, but managed to
pull the trigger again. Another shot ran out and this time he saw
through his blurred vision that the bear fell to all fours, and
then sank on his haunches, grunting and snorting.
Blake January knew he had
to shoot again and this time the bullet must kill. His heart nearly
stopped when the wounded bear pulled himself up on all fours once
more. Frightened, he raised the gun and simultaneously squeezed
both eyes shut and the trigger. The gun just clicked.
Damn,
he had forgotten
to reload it; he went weak and the air rushed from his lungs. He
didn’t dare open his eyes; he knew what he was facing; a wounded
animal was dangerous to reckon with. He cursed his stupidity,
knowing he might die because of it. Smelling the animal’s rancid
breath on his face, he prayed, “God make it quick.”
Swish! A cool breeze kissed his face. No
pain?
Thud! Swish! Thud! His mind went numb but
still no pain.
Sweating profusely, he was afraid to open
his eyelids. It took a second for the voices to register but when
he realized he wasn’t alone, he bravely opened them. Two older
Indians were
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standing by the dead animal; many arrows
protruded from its furry body. He couldn’t believe his good
fortune. Or maybe it wasn’t so lucky that he was discovered by the
Indians.
Nervously, Blake watched two redskins pick
up the injured young brave, who had fallen to the ground. A third
Indian came from behind and pulled a knife from its sheath,
motioning him to follow. He was still quite shaken and not sure
whether to be grateful or not. Right now he decided to be thankful;
he’d worry about his hide when his heart went back to its natural
rhythm. As he walked beside the brave with the knife, he noticed
the Indian was a tall woman.
The wounded red man’s leg was bleeding
profusely. He was unconscious, and placed over a horse while the
older Indians rode double. Blake doubled with the maiden and was
escorted to a strange structure and left to ponder over his
future.
Earlier, Laughing Tree had sent Weeping
Bird, Silver horse, and Black Wolf into the woods to look for Star
Gazer. Melissa and Laughing Tree sat consumed with fear; it had
been too long since the three went searching. When a shot rang out,
both jumped and Licks Too Much leaped up barking.
“Take dog, stay in wickiup,” Laughing Tree
ordered and put her hand gently on her shoulder. Melissa nodded,
understanding her command. “You stay, I will see. Take knife,” she
threw her weapon at her feet. She was frightened and looked at the
weapon as if it would jump
into her lap. “Do not come out until I
return. If it is raid by white dogs run into woods.” Laughing Tree
was gone, leaving her staring at the shiny object lying at her
feet. She waited for what seemed an eternity and feared for the
life of her unborn child. Would the white men kill her thinking she
was a squaw? They would have to be blind not to see she was white.
It was quiet and she wondered if she should take a peek outside but
decided against it and huddled in the corner of the dwelling
waiting for Laughing Tree to return. She sat lathered in sweat, her
imagination running rampant. The dog lay by her feet whimpering.
Finally, Laughing Tree returned. “Come quick, Moon Glow! We need
you!” She was roughly pulled to her feet. “Bring needle and sinew.”
The excited woman pointed to her basket. Melissa immediately
understood and nodded. “What, what happened?” She swallowed fear,
her tongue tasting like a copper coin and her question went
unanswered.
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Confused and shaken, Melissa was practically
dragged by Laughing Tree into Dasodaha’s dwelling. At first she saw
the medicine man dancing and chanting like he did for Blue Thunder.
Their eyes met chillingly and she saw hatred erupt from the old
Indian. He never forgave her interference with Blue Thunder’s
healing. Still wondering what happened, Laughing Tree pushed her
past the medicine man into the middle of the huge hut. It was then
Melissa saw Star Gazer covered with blood. Her hand flew to her
mouth as she held down the bile that quickly rose. Immediately, she
knew what they wanted of her. But could she do it?
She knelt by his side, seeing his right leg
practically shredded to the bone. He had lost so much blood that
even if she stitched him, his chances were slight. But there was no
other option
but to try. She loved Star Gazer as if he
were her own brother. Her eyes scanned the dwelling for something
to use as a tourniquet, to staunch the bleeding. She noticed the
rawhide belt around Laughing Tree’s waist. Without explaining,
Melissa grabbed the belt and quickly untied it and tied the rawhide
to Star Gazer’s upper thigh, above the wound.
“Hold tight until I tell you to loosen,” she
ordered Laughing Tree who turned pale. She then took the woman’s
trembling hands and placed them over the knot. Thankfully Laughing
Tree understood and nodded with tears spilling from her eyes as
Weeping Bird entered the wickiup. Melissa ordered the young maiden
to bring a bowl of water and cloth and the girl returned quickly
with them.
She cleaned his leg as well as possible and
the bleeding was slowed with the tourniquet. It took a long time to
stitch the leg and her hands slipped on his blood and her sweat. By
the time she finished, her fingers were so pricked and sore; she
didn’t know who’s blood was who’s. Breathing shallowly, Star Gazer
was now in God’s hands.
She watched Weeping Bird smear ointment and
placed moss over the injury before wrapping it. Although Melissa
was exhausted, she insisted on staying with the young brave. She
and Weeping Bird slept by his side until he awoke, thrashing
deliriously. He was running a high fever and she prayed that his
leg would not become gangrenous. But now she worried more about
torn stitches and he needed to be restrained but there was no bed
to tie him to.
She told Weeping Bird to fetch two braves
and some poles while she did her best to hold him down, but even
unconscious, he was very strong. The pain was making him wild. When
the
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Indians and Weeping Bird entered the
wickiup, they found her atop Star Gazer’s body. If the situation
wasn’t so serious she could’ve laughed at the expression on their
faces when they looked at the strange sight, then at each
other.
“Quick! Come place stakes on either side of
his arms and good leg.” Her Indian tongue wasn’t perfect and in her
excitement she mixed the two languages, but Weeping Bird instructed
the men to follow her orders. When it was done, he was tied to the
pegs. She and the maiden took turns in bathing Star Gazer’s body.
Laughing Tree and other women came throughout the night with water
from the pond to relieve them. She and Laughing Tree spent the next
two days tending his wound and trying to get fluid into him. He
became semiconscious for brief moments but it was so painful that
Melissa was glad when he lapsed into sleep again.
By the third day his fever abated but his
leg was still infected and oozed small amounts of puss. She had
fared pretty well, considering all that happed but when the
diseased area was burnt with a red hot knife by Weeping Bird, she
up-chucked from the smell of burning flesh.
Melissa asked Weeping Bird if she knew of
any brave still having white man’s fire water. The maiden wasted no
time in finding some trizwm instead. She had mixed feeling about
the poison and if Blue Thunder hadn’t touched it, she would have
never hurt him. But now this would help Star Gazer deal with the
pain. With the help of Weeping Bird, the intoxicating drink was
forced down the brave’s throat to keep him from thrashing about
again. On the fifth day the fever broke and there was no sign of
continued infection. He awoke for longer moments of time and she
fed him small amounts of food and more whiskey to help dull the
senses. By the end of the day, Star Gazer’s speech was slurred but
he didn’t seem to feel any discomfort. On the sixth day he rose
saying that he had a wicked hangover and insisted he would have
rather lived with the pain in his leg. Melissa gave him solid food
and when he fell asleep, so did she, but slept fitfully because of
the whooping outside.
Laughing Tree had explained that when one of
the tribe fell sick several fires were built in the camp, and while
the rest lay around on the ground with solemn visages, the young
men, their faces covered with paint, seized firebrands. They ran
around and about the lodges of the sick person to scare the evil
spirits away. This constant interruption and shouting didn’t give
her much peace or sleep, but then finally exhaustion over took her
and she conked out.
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TWENTY-SIX
Jason St. Andrew had returned to the spot
where he left his cousin, Blake January. He pulled his hat off and
swiped an arm across his brow, then scratched his head feeling how
his hair was matted. Damn, he needed a bath and he should have
gotten one when he doubled back to the town he and Blake had passed
three days ago. But he knew his cousin was alone and waiting for
him. If their pack horse hadn’t run off during the night with their
provisions, he wouldn’t have needed to return for more supplies. As
it was, if the town wasn’t so small, consisting of a general store,
restaurant, and a three room boarding house, he might have been
able to purchase another horse. Even a mule, but he couldn’t so
Jason carried what he could in his saddle bags.
It had been a ghastly journey as it was. He
and Blake were robbed on the train, and then narrowly escaped a
small band of renegades before finding the wagon train in which his
sisters were traveling. And then he had to learn of his younger
sibling being attacked and raped, Mellissa abducted, and his dear
servant murdered.
He cursed. He had lost so much, including
the sight in his right eye when a ball creased his temple fighting
Johnny Rebs. He should consider himself lucky since he didn’t lose
the eyeball, only the vision. If no one was the wiser, his blind
eye wasn’t noticeable, only the scar that ran from his temple down
his cheek. But he did have a habit of bumping into things. When
he had witnessed his friends losing arms and
legs, some times both limbs, he thanked his lucky stars. He was
also lucky to have bumped into Blake in town after discovering the
empty house that was once his beloved home. Vacant slave shacks and
cotton rotting in the fields gave him one conclusion; the northern
soldiers had been there. Then discovering two freshly dug graves
with a crude maker that was engraved with the names, Darrell and
Mary, he sadly realized that his parents had been killed.
Now he was ready to fight for his sister
Melissa, but where the hell was Blake? The hairs on his neck rose.
Had his cousin been captured by the Apache’s while he was gone?
With a
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closer investigation, he discovered blood on
the ground; too much of it in different places to come from one
person. Well, he had no other option but to sneak closer to the
dwellings and spy. His only hope was that he wouldn’t find Blake
tied to a stake. Those heathens could be ruthless and Melissa
better be alive or he’d scalp a few redskins, for sure. Pulling
Scout by the bit, he walked his horse by his side. That black horse
cost him a pretty penny but his father had a savings in the local
bank, and the owner Mr. McNorris, being a good friend of the family
gave Jason no trouble turning over part of the money. After the
robbery, Jason wired for the remaining savings, this time hiding it
in his boot. He continued to wear his gray army coat as a badge of
honor for proudly defending his beloved south.
As he crawled closer to the camp, he saw
that only a few Indians were about but as he began to creep closer,
a commotion erupted, and what few Indians were around began to
gather in the middle of the village. He would bide his time.
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TWENTY-SEVEN
Blue Thunder and his people returned after
six days of hunting. They brought back litters of buffalo meat and
hides; the Indians used every part of the buffalo, including the
hooves which they made glue. He and the returning party were tired
but pleased. He headed for his wickiup anxious to see his wife.
Before he entered, he was approached by Weeping Bird who told him
what had happened in his absence. He quickly turned towards his
father’s dwelling.
Dasodaha stood by his lodge with Laughing
Tree by his side; together they quickly disappeared inside. Blue
Thunder entered as his father was bending over his injured brother.
After his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, he went to Star
Gazer and found him asleep. His father and aunt said they were
happy to see him home, and he nodded telling them that he’d speak
with them later about the hunt. There was nothing he could do for
his brother, knowing he was in good hands. He then he saw Melissa
sleeping in the shadows and he gently picked up his exhausted wife
and took her to his lodge. He placed her on their mat and gave her
a light kiss on her pale cheek, letting her sleep a long time.