Wild Thunder (17 page)

I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats on high,
O'er vales and hills.

—W
ILLIAM
W
ORDSWORTH

 

 

 

Like a firefly, the moon broke through the trees. Strong Wolf rode through the night with his warriors. They all wore war shirts made from a soft piece of buckskin with buffalo hair fringe on the sleeves and across the front. Red, blue, yellow, and white quills were sewn on them, each color of quills radiating from the other.

When Jeremiah Bryant's ranch came into sight, Strong Wolf lifted his rifle into the air as a silent command for his men to stop.

Proud Heart sidled his horse closer to Strong Wolf as he stared at the corral at the far back of the ranch grounds. He watched several horses scamper about, whinnying. “Are the horses that carried the men today on their attack against us in that fence?” he whispered.

“Of that I am sure,” Strong Wolf whispered back harshly. “I have told everyone what to do. Now, let us see that it is done!”

He looked over his shoulder as several of his men lit torches. He nodded at others whose duties were to set the horses free, then he settled into his saddle and watched it all happen with Proud Heart and White Beaver leading the silent attack.

The horses were set free and scattered in all directions. The fences were knocked down and dragged away.

And then came the most triumphant moment of all, when the white men ran out of the bunkhouse, stumbling as they jerked on their breeches, shouting and cursing.

When Strong Wolf was certain that no more men were left in the bunkhouse, he gave a nod to his warriors who waited with their torches.

They smiled and nodded back at him, then rode off in a hard gallop toward the bunkhouse, the white men scattering and falling to the ground in the flurry of hoofbeats.

“It is as I suspected,” Strong Wolf whispered to himself. “In the white men's haste to leave their quarters, they brought no weapons. The surprise visit by our warriors made them careless. As planned, it won't be necessary to kill any of them. We have taken away their mode of transportation. We are now burning their lodges.”

He gazed over at the ranch house, and his smile faded when he saw Jeremiah Bryant step from his house with his wife close at his side. Jeremiah wore eyeglasses, and the fire reflected in their lenses.

“And now the debt is paid,” Strong Wolf said beneath his breath.

He then turned his eyes to his men and shouted for them to leave. His plans had been carried out without anyone being harmed. It was time to return home to the peaceful side of life again.

As they rode off, Strong Wolf looked one last time over his shoulder. He smiled victoriously as he watched the ranch hands scrambling around with their buckets of water, splashing them on the bunkhouse that was a blazing inferno.

Then he turned his eyes straight ahead again and rode tall and proud in his saddle. Yet he hoped that tonight would not have to be repeated. He hoped that the message would be loud and clear to those who chose to kill the Potawatomis, that the Potawatomis would not slink away and let it be done to them like cowardly puppies whose tails hang limply between their hind legs.

They headed back toward their village, then Strong Wolf saw something in the distance that made his heart skip a beat. He looked toward the heavens at the reflection of fire in the sky, making the black inky sky of night turn to crimson.

“Do you see it?” Proud Heart shouted over at Strong Wolf. “Fire! And not set by us! It is far from the one we have just left behind.”

“Let us go and see what is the cause!” Strong Wolf said, making a wide turn in the road, his men following.

Strong Wolf bent low over his horse as he followed the fire tracks in the sky, then when he drew close enough to see whose cabin was on fire, his heart sank and he felt ill inside.

“Claude Odum's!” White Beaver shouted, gazing over at Strong Heart. “Someone has set Claude Odum's cabin on fire!”

Not hearing anything, only feeling remorse, Strong Wolf broke away from the others and sent his powerful steed into a much harder gallop. His eyes never left the fiery inferno, knowing that if Claude Odum was inside the cabin, surely he could no longer be alive.

There was a small hope inside Strong Wolf's heart when, as he got closer, he saw that the back side of the cabin, where the huge stone fireplace reached halfway across the wall, was not yet in flames. If Claude had crawled to that part of the room, just possibly he would be alive. And surely he would have tried to get there, for a door was there, an escape to freedom.

Strong Wolf wheeled his horse to a shimmying stop and dismounted, then ran toward the cabin.

Proud Heart ran after him, shouting. “No!” he cried. “Strong Wolf! No! Do not try it! Do not go inside that cabin!”

His ears deaf to everything, except the pounding of his heart in his eagerness to try and save Claude Odum, the gentle man that he was, Strong Wolf ran to the well behind the house.

He dropped the bucket that was attached to a rope down into the water, gathered water into the bucket, then cranked the bucket back up and grabbed it. So that his whole body would be soaked before entering the fiery inferno, he poured the water over his head.

He then grabbed a blanket from his horse and soaked it in the water, then placed it around his head and ran toward the cabin door.

Proud Heart came to him and tried to grab him by the arm, but Strong Wolf yanked it away. “Your people!” Proud Heart cried. “Think of your people! Should you die . . . !”

Strong Wolf heard those words, yet paid no heed. A friend
of
his people might be dying among flames! He had to save him!

When Strong Wolf yanked the door open, a great burst of smoke and flames reached out for him, giving him a taste of what it was like inside the cabin.

But not to be dissuaded, his heart thundering, he took a wary step inside, then stumbled over something.

The flames bright, the heat intense, Strong Wolf looked downward. His gut twisted when he saw Claude Odum stretched out on the floor, his clothes burned off his body, his skin scorched black.

Strong Wolf felt the strong urge to retch as the stench of burned flesh wafted up into his nose. He shook from head to toe in hard shudders, then composed himself enough to reach down and place his hands on the burned flesh of Claude's arms and dragged him outside, away from the fire.

Proud Heart and White Beaver went to Strong Wolf. They gasped, paled, then turned their eyes from the sight.

“Who could have done this?” Strong Wolf said, his teeth clenched, his face still hot from the flames.

“Someone who does not want us to have such a friend in the Kansas Territory,” Proud Heart said, his voice hollow.

“And he
was
such a friend,” Strong Wolf said, bending to kneel beside Claude. He took the blanket from around his shoulders and lay it over Claude, then turned toward the sound of approaching horsemen.

“Someone else has seen the flames in the sky tonight,” White Beaver said, his voice wary. “We should have been home safe by now, then questions would not be asked so quickly of us.”

“Let them be asked,” Strong Wolf said, moving to his feet. He wiped some of the soot away from his eyes, then stood with his arms folded across his chest when Colonel Deshong and several of his men came to a halt on their horses a few feet away.

Strong Wolf didn't take his eyes off the colonel as Patrick came toward him, dressed in full uniform. Patrick rested a hand on a saber at his right side, his eyes on the fire, then on Strong Wolf.

Strong Wolf watched as the soldiers surrounded the Potawatomis warriors, who were still on their horses clustered together.

“This time I don't have any choice but to arrest you, Strong Wolf,” Patrick said, going to bend to a knee to take a look at Claude. He choked back the urge to retch, then moved to his feet and stood before Strong Wolf. “Two fires were set tonight, and after you were attacked today while on the hunt? It looks too suspicious to ignore, Strong Wolf.”

Patrick nodded toward one of his men. “Tie his hands behind him,” he ordered. “Let the others go. We can't arrest the entire Potawatomis nation. Strong Wolf is enough. He speaks and acts for all of his people.”

Strong Wolf winced as tight-binding rawhide ropes were used to tie his wrists together behind him. He said nothing, for he would not humiliate himself tonight before his warriors, or the soldiers who were hell-bent on arresting him for something.

It was hard for Strong Wolf to understand why the colonel would think that he would kill Claude. Patrick knew that he and Claude had been the best of friends, whose hearts were linked together in camaraderie!

But Strong Wolf had to think that the arrest was made to keep face for the colonel. Someone had to be incarcerated for the crimes tonight. It might as well be an Indian!

“Strong Wolf, you will face a judge tomorrow.” Patrick stared at Strong Wolf. “Now go peacefully to the guardhouse. Your fate is no longer in my hands.”

His chin lifted, Strong Wolf went to his horse. With his hands tied behind him, he could not get into his saddle. Proud Heart came to him and helped him.

“What are we to do?” he whispered to Strong Wolf.

“Think, then act,” Strong Wolf whispered back. “But do not chance losing any of our men, or people. There are peaceful ways to settle this. Think about it. You will know the right answers.”

Proud Heart nodded, then stepped aside as the colonel came and stared up at Strong Wolf, then at Proud Heart.

“Proud Heart, take your men back to your village and heed my warning well when I say do not come to the fort with the notion of attacking,” Patrick said, his voice filled with warning. “One shot fired against us will mean the death of Strong Wolf.”

Proud Heart glared at the colonel for a moment, gave Strong Wolf an uneasy stare, then stamped away and swung himself into his saddle.

Patrick appointed those who would ride with Strong Wolf. Others would stay behind and gather up Claude's remains, then take him to the fort for proper burial.

He mounted his horse and rode off, soon catching up with Strong Wolf, and rode beside him.

Strong Wolf could occasionally feel the colonel's eyes on him, but he ignored him. He stared straight ahead, knowing that he had done no wrong, except to avenge that which had happened to his people.

As for Claude Odum, Strong Wolf's heart ached. Then he scowled and thought of those who could be so heartless as to kill such an innocent, warmhearted man.

He wanted to blame one man. Tiny Sharp. But he didn't think that even he was this ruthless.

No, he doubted he would ever know who killed Claude, or why. Perhaps the fire had started by accident.

He wished to believe that. It was easier to live with.

Then his thoughts shifted to Hannah. What would she say when she discovered that he had been incarcerated? What would she do?

He only hoped that she would not become too hasty in her decisions. She did have an explosive, stubborn nature.

He knew he would not be kept in the guardhouse long, not with so many people out there to speak up in his behalf. Even the colonel should give this a second thought. Patrick knew that Strong Wolf was a man of peace. How could he ever think that he would do anything to harm Claude Odum?

Patrick surely knew that he didn't, yet had to play the role of a leader by arresting someone!

And too often it made a white leader look bigger in the eyes of the commumty of white people if an Indian was arrested.

If Strong Wolf discovered that was Patrick's only reason for incarcerating him, Patrick would then have an enemy for life, and not only Strong Wolf, but the whole tribe of Potawatomis!

The fort came into view beneath the bright splash of moonlight. The wide gates were open. Strong Wolf was taken between them and on to the guardhouse.

When his horse was stopped before the guardhouse, a soldier came and yanked Strong Wolf from the saddle, making him stumble and fall.

Disgraced, Strong Wolf glared up at Colonel Deshong as he came and stood over him.

Gently, Patrick reached a hand to Strong Wolf's shoulder and helped him up from the ground. “Strong Wolf, I don't like this at all,” he mumbled. “But my hands are tied. You know that it looked bad as hell for you to get caught beside the burning cabin while another fire was set not all that far from Claude's. Being out with your warriors, wearing war shirts, you look damn responsible. I had no choice but to arrest you.”

“You forget words of camaraderie so easily?” Strong Wolf said as he was led toward the door of the guardhouse. “Where is your trust in this Potawatomis warrior? Where is your understanding?”

Patrick stopped and turned Strong Wolf to face him. “Strong Wolf, can you stand there and honestly say that you did not set fire to Jeremiah Bryant's bunkhouse? That you did not chase his horses out of the corral?” he accused. “I heard about the men attacking you and your warriors while you were on the hunt getting more meat for my men. I know that one of your warriors was killed. Can you say you did not avenge his death tonight? Can you?”

“I have my vengeance, yes,” Strong Wolf answered. “We burned the bunkhouse tonight. We set the horses free. But I did not burn Claude Odum's lodge. I did not kill him. He . . . was . . . my friend.”

Colonel Deshong's eyes wavered into Strong Wolf's, then he nodded at the soldiers. “Take him away,” he commanded.

Strong Wolf spat at Colonel Deshong's feet. “I will spit on the steaks you have made out of the deer I brought you if I get the chance!” he snarled between clenched teeth. “Your men will starve before my people hunt for them again!”