The Mystery of the Moonlight Murder (8 page)

John had never thought about having an animal association. He liked the idea—and liked the eagle, with its strength and powerful vision. There were many bald eagles in the forests of northern Saskatchewan, but they were rarer near the wheat fields. He also liked buffalo, although in real life they were almost gone now after years of over-hunting. The spotted horses he dreamt about must symbolize that he had always liked horses.

“Do you have an animal, Summer?” John asked, curious. “Yes. Right here,” she said, smiling at Prairie Dancer. “Of course!” said John. It only made sense for Summer. “How come I don't have an animal?” asked Elmer, interrupting the flow.

“You do. You have Lily,” teased John, naming the family's cow. Elmer shoved him good-naturedly.

Summer explained. “For me, I always loved horses and I

grew up with her,” she said, stroking Prairie Dancer's long nose. “She is a part of me. Even when I was only small, like this,” she said, holding her hand off the ground until it was about the height of a two year old, “I wanted to be near the horses.”

“They let you be near horses when you were that small?” Elmer asked in disbelief.

Summer's face lit up with the happy memories. “It was safe. The horse is my totem, remember? Everyone could tell. That's why my father got Prairie Dancer for me when I three. Getting her is my first memory,” she said, patting the majestic horse's neck.

“I don't remember everything, but my father told me he said, ‘Bless this horse and bless my daughter, Summer Storm, who will one day ride like the wind.'”

“You already do that,” said Elmer. “That's for sure!” A clattering sound made everyone turn at the same time. As the three peered down the length of rough trail, they could make out the distinct shape of a carriage and horses, wobbling its way toward them.

John stared. “Is that who I think it is?” he asked.

***

At the Schneider homestead, Mary brought the coffee cup to her lips and tried to read all of the emotions that played about

Gertrude Schneider's face. She had been through so much, beginning with losing her husband only three days ago. Now, a third of her crop was burned to the ground. If the Lord had a plan for this poor woman, thought Mary, she prayed it would soon be revealed.

“I want you to know that when the threshers come in a few weeks, we'll make sure your crop gets done. You're going to make it,” said Mary soothingly.

Gertrude's eyes were dull but she nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Mary. Your family is always so kind,” she replied with her heavy German accent. “But I don't care about the crop any more.”

Mary tried to understand what she was hearing. “You'll need your crop, Gertrude. This is how you're going to survive. Everyone's going to pitch in and help, you'll see. I'll have lots of canned goods by then and I know…”

Gertrude began shaking her head even before Mary had finished speaking.

“I will not stay here,” she said, looking around her small house. “I have a sister in Bavaria,” she said quietly, almost without emotion. She slowly raised her own coffee to her lips and slurped loudly.

“Bavaria? You mean Germany?” asked Mary astonished. “Gertrude, you have all this land. Hans would have wanted you to stay and…”

“Hans!” shouted Gertrude, setting her coffee down too hard as hot liquid splashed out on the table and on her hand. Her eyes instantly brimmed with tears. “Hans is not here to tell me what to do. Hans is not here to see me go!” She rubbed the warm liquid from her hand, her eyes locked with Mary's. Mary remained quiet.

“I'm too old, Mary. Too old and alone,” Gertrude finished. Mary stood up slowly and reached for a cloth hanging in Gertrude's kitchen area, calmly wiping up the spilled coffee. The older woman just stared out the small window at the promise of more sun. Then she spoke softly.

“I've already made arrangements to sell the farm. I have enough money to take a train from here, to get to a ship in Montreal. They will send me the farm money later. I don't care.”

Mary wasn't sure if she dared to offer advice, but she was going to try.

“Gertrude, it's been such a short time. Are you sure you feel you've made the right decision?”

The widow nodded. “I made up my mind on the night he died. I will leave this place. Nothing will change that.”

***

Earl T. Wright brought his brilliant canary yellow wagon to a halt in front of John, Elmer, and Summer and peered down at

them, tipping his black hat and smiling.

“Well, hello there,” he said in his trademark drawl. “It sure is good to see you after this mess,” he said, glancing at the blackened fields. “How is everyone? How badly were you hit by the fire?”

“We were lucky, Mr. Wright. It barely touched us, thanks to Father and Uncle Ed plowing furrows in time. Except, Uncle Ed burnt his arm some and Mrs. Schneider lost more than a third of her crop,” said John dejectedly.

“Well now, that's good news for your family as far as your crop goes. I'm sorry to hear about your uncle's arm. I should stop in and see if he needs a good old fashioned Rawleigh's Man remedy. But what a shame Gertrude was hit so hard. And so soon after her husband's death. Too many fine folks were hit hard from what I've seen.”

Elmer had moved a bit closer to the wagon. “What's that, Mr. Wright?” he asked, pointing to a collection of items half covered by a sheet. Now all three looked at the space behind Earl and saw a collection of tools, a basket filled with something they couldn't see and a few books.

“Oh, that's nothing,” said Earl, quickly covering it completely with the sheet. “Just some blankets I like to keep. I do so much travelling so they're nice to have. Sometimes I have to sleep in the carriage you know.”

John, Elmer, and Summer just nodded but no one said any-

thing. Earl cleared his throat.

“Well now, I best be off. You three take care, hear?” And with that, the canary yellow wagon carrying the Rawleigh's Man departed down the uneven trail.

Chapter 9
Chief Five Hawks

Summer Storm was a born rider. It was hard to tell where she ended and Prairie Dancer began, John thought to himself, as she entertained the boys with trick riding during the five-mile ride to her reservation the next morning.

Although they were trying to have fun along the way to the Cree reservation, the truth of their mission was more serious. Ed's burn from the prairie fire seemed deeper than they first thought and Mary was worried her home plaster remedy was not working. Summer had volunteered to pick up an ointment her grandparents had on the reservation. It was something that had been passed down for generations by the Cree and Summer felt that it was a way she could make another contribution to the Diefenbakers for letting her stay.

As she resumed her trick riding, she lay on her back, sideways, while her Pinto kept on trotting. The boys laughed and trotted along more calmly beside them as she then stood on the horse's back, perfectly balanced, while Prairie Dancer stayed

the course. Its lithe body was in tune with Summer's subtle movements. Only once, when the horse had to turn slightly to avoid a protruding bush in the otherwise flat field, did Summer falter, but as she fell she grabbed her horse's neck. The strong Pinto held fast while it ran until Summer pulled herself around, only this time not as gracefully. She was laughing so hard at her own mishap that the boys realized it was alright to join in.

John and Elmer had asked their parents for permission to go for the trip to the reservation, too. It would give them a chance to get out with Skipper, Blue, and Prairie Dancer for a good long ride. Yesterday's ride of only a few farms' distance was depressing, since the youths witnessed the fire damage to their neighbours' properties.

Today's ride was more enjoyable.

“We're getting close,” said John, pointing into the distance. John then turned his thoughts inward. Elmer knew his brother was thinking because he got very quiet and his forehead became furrowed. It was like he forgot he was with other people, even though Elmer and Summer were talking. Elmer was used to this although, as the younger brother, he felt like it was his solemn duty to try and find out what was going on inside his brother's head—usually before his brother was ready.

“John, what are you thinking about?” Elmer asked, after some minutes had passed.

John paused before he spoke. “Just what we were talking

about yesterday evening, you know, seeing Mr. Wright.”

“Yes, that was strange,” Elmer said, recalling his own memory. “What do you think all of that stuff was inside Mr. Wright's wagon?”

“Well, we saw a basket with something in it, some tools and some books. There was nothing that looked really suspicious,” John answered.

“Then why did he hide those things?” asked Summer. John nodded. “That's just it. Why would he lie about it just being blankets, when we clearly saw other things underneath? I still don't understand what he was concealing. What was he really worried about?”

The others fell silent, lost in their own thoughts of the strange encounter with Earl T. Wright. Prairie Dancer seemed to know she was closer to home, as she was making gentle noises while she walked. Skipper and Blue were just happy to be on an adventure, especially through an area that had been untouched by the destructive hand of the prairie fire.

“Aren't we close to the river?” John asked, referring to the mighty North Saskatchewan.

Summer nodded. “It's near here. There's a place where the river bends near the forest,” she replied, pointing, “where I have been swimming before.”

“Let's go swimming!” said Elmer enthusiastically. “I mean, after we get the ointment.”

“Can we do that?” asked Summer, who seemed keen. John instantly felt uneasy about the idea for a number of reasons. Father and Mother had told them before not to swim in the North Saskatchewan River because it had a strong current and the boys weren't very good swimmers. On the other hand, John reasoned, they were with Summer and he knew she was an experienced swimmer. John didn't want to feel like the one who was about to spoil all the fun.

“What about the current?” John asked, trying to maintain some sense of responsibility.

“It's fine where I swim,” said Summer. “As long as you don't go far into the middle, you'll be alright,” she said convincingly. John considered for another minute. “Fine with me, but we won't be able to stay long.”

“Yes!” whooped Elmer, happy that his older brother wasn't going to rain down on all the fun.

“Our clothes should dry on the way back easily enough, with all this sun,” John continued. “But you know if we get caught we won't be able to go to Langham tomorrow to help sell Mother's butter.”

Elmer had almost forgotten about the trip. “We won't stay long,” he said reassuringly.

“But first let's get the ointment,” John reminded them. With the reservation now in view, John looked at the simple collection of small, plain wooden homes that had replaced the

famed Cree tepees of old. John had once seen two tepees with his father when they were travelling for supplies, but it wasn't common anymore. Two hunters had set them up for a temporary camp and John was invited inside to see what they were like. It was an experience he never forgot.

Closer to their destination, John and Elmer fell back in formation to let Summer lead the way to her grandparents' house. People in the village who were working outside peered up with curiosity as the unlikely trio entered the village. Small children ran toward them, waving and laughing to Summer and the boys. She was delighted to see the little ones and spoke to them in both Cree and English, introducing John and Elmer who were still on horseback behind her. She called them
nitoótém
, which the boys learned meant ‘my friend' in Cree. John responded by nodding and smiling, while Elmer waved enthusiastically. In fact, Elmer did it for so long that John was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“Elmer, stop waving so much. It's embarrassing,” said John in a low voice.

Elmer frowned at his older brother. “Who made you the chief? I'm just being friendly.” John groaned.

Along the way Summer pointed out various things on the reservation, like the building where she went to school and where Chief Five Hawks lived. John saw a magnificent looking

sorrel-coloured bronco tied in front of Chief Five Hawk's place. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen it. When they neared Summer's house, John could see the expression on her face change, as she probably pictured her father inside, safe and free, instead of locked up in a jail cell.

Soon Summer slowed her horse and jumped off, a few feet away from her house where she lived with her father and grandparents. A small wooden rail served as a tether for all three horses.

“Maybe you should wait here. My grandparents are still sick,” she reminded them. “I will just visit them for a few minutes and ask for the ointment. I will be right back.”

The boys nodded, content to let their gazes fall across the village. Soon, a number of the Cree children caught up, and two of them chatted in a combined English and Cree while others stood by silently in their shyness.

The boys replied when they understood what was being said but soon concerned parents called their children back to their own homes. This freed John and Elmer to look around and take in their surroundings.

“Elmer, where have I seen that horse before? Doesn't it look familiar?” asked John, pointing to the distinctive horse in front of the chief's home.

Elmer stared inquisitively at the horse and then hesitantly stepped closer, as if to be sure of something about it. Then he

spun around and looked right at John. “John, that's Mr. Dumont's horse!”

***

Inside his home, Chief Five Hawks continued to study the young Métis man in front of him. The tall, dark haired stranger had sought a meeting with the chief a few days ago, introducing himself as the nephew of the great Gabriel Dumont. The chief had members of his council send him away while he considered the request. He never had the opportunity to meet Gabriel Dumont and yet, of course, his reputation as a remarkable warrior was legendary.

He knew that Gabriel Dumont had fought with all Native peoples, Indian and Métis alike, and that they shared many of the same concerns. The decline of the buffalo herds, the rapid spread of the European white people across the prairies, occupying land that once seemed unlimited—all this and more affected the original prairie dwellers.

At first, the Cree and other Indian tribes had welcomed the newcomers with open arms. But when their numbers grew and they began to populate the entire West, the buffalo disappeared from over-hunting. Then the white people came with their treaties and agreements, just when the Indian was hungry, the chief reflected. Chief Five Hawks was only a young man when

the words of the white speaker were spoken aloud on that warm prairie day. But he remembered the hope he felt when he heard the message from the person they called the Queen, a distant ruler. He could still hear the man's voice, speaking on her behalf:

“The Queen Mother says, ‘I hear that the natives are hungry at times. My arms are long; I shall uplift every one of my children. You will never again suffer for want of food. I shall distribute annually among all the natives a given sum of money… for as long as the sun will shine and the rivers flow. I have not come to buy your game nor the fishes in the lakes and streams; these are yours always. Three things only do I want, namely, the land which I will cultivate, also the timber, and the grass.'

“The Queen Mother says, ‘I shall give to each head man a horse and carriage. I shall provide wise men and women to teach my children how to till the sod, and teach you the white man's way of making a living. I want all my people…to strive and get along with one another. I shall provide you with a strong-armed man. He of the Red Coat will protect you, fight for you and settle your difficulties. You will regard him as your brother.'”

Chief Five Hawks considered the trail of broken promises from the past. And what had he accomplished for his people of the Long River Band? What will be his legacy? What will he be remembered for? He managed business the best he could,

but poverty was persistent. It seemed as if his legacy as chief would be marked only by indifference from a distant government. It seemed as if time had marched on and forgotten the Cree. He knew their allies, the Assiniboine, felt the same way. Chief Fallen Branch would surely be interested in what this young man had to say.

Then his thoughts turned to River's Voice, one of his own band members, now in jail on a murder charge that was surely not believable—another example of the white man's arrogance. Yet, here was the nephew of Gabriel Dumont before him, with the spark of youth still lit and the energy to change things. Was it possible to do more for his people? He felt the stirrings of hope again, not an easy feeling to activate in an old chief.

“You know your presence there would say a great deal,” André said, as they walked outside under the morning sun. He stuck his hand out to shake and Chief Five Hawks accepted it. “I will be there,” the chief replied evenly, gripping the younger Métis man's hand firmly.

John and Elmer, who were hidden behind a shed, watched André Dumont and Chief Five Hawks shake hands. “What did they say?” whispered Elmer.

“I don't know. I couldn't hear either,” John said wonderingly.

“But I wish I knew why he was here.”

***

With the ointment now in Summer's saddlebag, courtesy of her grandparents who were still feeling quite ill, the three travelers headed back to the Diefenbaker homestead. After getting briefed by John and Elmer, Summer didn't know what to make of André Dumont's visit either. But children were not permitted to know the plans or the ways of elders, or any adult either.

“We've got more important things to worry about anyway,” said John. It had been two days since John's visit to River's Voice and he was feeling a sense of urgency to find out the truth of the murder of Hans Schneider. John tried to review the evidence against Summer's father, which included the necklace of River's Voice found near the scene of the crime.