Wild Thunder (18 page)

He was yanked away and shoved to a cell inside the guardhouse. His ropes were cut. Then he was left alone, where only thin streamers of moonlight came through the bars of the window on the outside wall.

Strong Wolf looked around him. He who loved the open spaces was nauseated by the foul odor of the dingy cell. He stared down at a tattered mattress that lay on the rough board floor.

His gaze shifted elsewhere, his insides tightening as he watched venturesome mice creep out upon the floor and scamper around.

Strong Wolf went to the window and gripped the iron bars. He peered outside, his heart aching to be free again to ride with Hannah, to lead her to a secret hiding place where they could make love.

He ached to be with his people, to teach, to
help,
to
lead
.

His thoughts went to Hannah again. “Will I ever again touch her soft skin?” he cried to the heavens.

Be strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift!

—M
ALTBIE
D
AVENPORT
B
ABCOCK

 

 

 

Anxious to get to Strong Wolf's village, to discuss plans of marriage with him, Hannah rushed through her morning chores of getting Chuck ready for the long day ahead of him.

She had just stepped into the parlor, to retrieve his cane that he had left there the night before, when she heard Tiny laughing about something outside, just beneath the open window as he talked with some of the cowhands.

When Strong Wolf's name came up in the conversation, and Tiny laughed sarcastically, Hannah inched over to the window. She slowly drew the thin curtain aside and listened more closely, glad that she had opened the window earlier.

“They've got him this time,” Tiny said as he untied his horse's reins from around a hitching rail. “I hope he rots in that damn guardhouse.”

Hannah gasped and paled. She moved directly in front of the window. “What is that you are saying about Strong Wolf?” she asked, leaning out so that he could see her.

Tiny turned sharp, angry eyes at Hannah. “Your Injun friend?” he snarled. “Seems your wedding might be called off due to his pending death!” He laughed boisterously when he saw the look of alarm in Hannah's eyes. “Yup. He's gone and got himself in a peck of trouble, and I had nothing to do with it, either. So's don't go rantin' and ravin' at me, accusin' me of one thing or another.”

“He's . . . in . . . jail . . . ?” Hannah responded, her insides turning to cold shivers of pain. “Why? What happened?”

“Now, just look at this,” Tiny said, laughing as he looked over his shoulder at the men who were gathering around, listening. “She's got time for Tiny
now
. Just look at her. The mention of Strong Wolf being behind bars has tamed our little miss just a mite, wouldn't you all say?”

No one said anything, or laughed along with Tiny. They looked guardedly up at Hannah.

“You little twerp,” she hissed. “I should've known better than to ask you anything.”

“Honey, what's the matter?” Chuck asked as he felt his way into the room without his cane. “What's all the commotion about? Who are you talking to?”

Hannah turned with a start. She stepped away from the window, the curtain fluttering down behind her. “Chuck,” she said, her heart pounding in her fear of what might have happened to Strong Wolf. “Tiny said that Strong Wolf has been taken to the guardhouse at Fort Leavenworth. Do you know anything about it? Have you heard anything at all?”

“No, nothing,” Chuck answered, glad to have the cane when she brought it to him. “I'll get Tiny in here and get the answers out of him, since he seems to know so much about it.”

“No, I don't want to talk to that terrible man,” Hannah rebutted, her voice trembling. “I'll go to the fort.” She shook her head as she held her temples between her hands. “No. I'll go to the Potawatomis village. I'll find out from them what happened. Something has to be done. Perhaps it already has been. Surely Proud Heart wouldn't allow his friend to stay in jail. What could Strong Wolf have done to cause such animosity on the part of Colonel Deshong? He's Strong Wolf's friend.”

She swung away from Chuck and walked determinedly toward the door.

“No, Hannah,” Chuck pleaded, turning as he saw her pass him, her movements only lights and shadows to him. “Don't get involved. Stay home. I'll send someone to the fort to get answers for you.”

Hannah was dressed in a riding skirt and blouse, the sleeves rolled up past her elbow. Her delicate cheekbones bloomed with color as she anxiously rolled the sleeves down and buttoned them at her wrists. “No, Chuck.” she said, now nervously combing her fingers through her hair. “I've got to get the answers for myself. I've got to do something about it!”

“Hannah, for Christ's sake, you are only one woman against a whole fort of men,” Chuck scolded, going to the door with her as she swung it open. He listened to the sound of her boots as she took determined steps across the porch.

“I love him, Chuck,” Hannah said over her shoulder as she rushed down the steps. She eyed the horses tied to the hitching rail. Without further thought, she yanked the reins of one of the horses from the rail, then swung herself into the saddle.

“Hey!” Tiny shouted, coming from around the side of the house. “Get off my horse. Damn it, Hannah, get . . . off . . . my horse!”

“Just shut up,” Hannah railed, then wheeled the horse around and rode off.

“Hannah! Don't go!” Chuck shouted after her. “You're going to get in trouble! Come back here, Hannah.” His voice weakened. “Oh, Lord, Hannah, what am I going to do with you?”

“She's got too much spunk for her own good,” Tiny growled, placing his fists on his hips. “Damn her all to hell. Why'd she have to take
my
horse, anyhow?”

“Tiny, if you'd have kept your mouth shut about Strong Wolf this morning, she'd not have taken off half-cocked,” Chuck grumbled. Then he took a shaky step closer to the edge of the porch. “Tiny, tell me what happened. Why is Strong Wolf incarcerated? He and Colonel Deshong are supposed to be the best of friends.”

“Seems Strong Wolf went on a burnin' and killin' spree last night, Chuck,” Tiny said, taking pleasure in saying it.

“God, who'd he
kill
?” Chuck stammered. “What did he
burn
?”

“First he set fire to Jeremiah Bryant's bunkhouse,” Tiny replied, slipping his thin hands into the front pockets of his breeches. “Then Claude Odum's place was burned. Claude died in the flames.”

“No,” Chuck said, paling. “Claude Odum was one of the finest men around.” He paused, then said slowly and softly. “And he was Strong Wolf's friend.” He firmed his jaw.

“Anyone who knows Strong Wolf at all, knows he wouldn't be responsible for Claude Odum's death. Someone else must have set the fire that killed him.”

“Maybe so,” Tiny admitted, shrugging. “But as for Jeremiah's place, it's out and out vengeance. Some of Jeremiah's cowhands killed one of Strong Wolf's warriors yesterday. Strong Wolf is guilty as hell of having burned the bunkhouse.” He paused, then said, “And not only that. He also chased all of Jeremiah's horses from the corral.”

“This doesn't sound at all like Strong Wolf,” Chuck said, leaning his full weight on the cane. “He's a peace-loving man.”

“And so he likes for everyone to believe,” Tiny mocked.

He went up the stairs and placed a gentle hand to Chuck's arm. “Come inside, Chuck,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he stared over at him. “Let's go over some of the figures in the ledger. I'm having some trouble balancing the pages.”

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Chuck agreed, nodding.

Chuck followed Tiny into the house, then took one last look over his shoulder as he tried to see Hannah in the distance.

How you 'mid other forms I seek—
Oh, love more real than though
such dreams
were
true.
If you but knew!

—A
NONYMOUS
, 19
TH
C
ENTURY

 

 

 

Hannah slapped the reins and nudged the horse's flanks with her booted heels. She just couldn't go fast enough. She needed answers now! Surely Tiny had made it all up. If not, surely someone would have let her know what had happened to Strong Wolf?

Especially Proud Heart. He knew how much she loved Strong Wolf. He knew they were making plans of marriage! It just wasn't fair that she would have been left out of something like this.

She reached her eyes to the blue heavens. “Oh, Lord, please let this all be some sort of ugly joke made up inside of Tiny's twisted brain,” she whispered. “Please let me find Strong Wolf at his lodge. Please, oh, please, let him be all right!”

When she came to a fork in the road, one that would take her to the fort, the other that led to Strong Wolf's village, she drew in a tight rein. “Oh, what should I do?” she cried, looking down one avenue and then the other.

Still feeling it was best to go to the village first, Hannah made the turn in the road that would take her there.

Again she pushed the horse to its limits in speed. The wind blew through Hannah's hair, tangling it. The sun beat down onto her face, burning it.

She rode hard until finally she saw the village a short distance away. She sank her heels into the horse's flanks and her knees into its sides, sending it again into a hard gallop.

Breathless, Hannah entered the village. She patted the horse's neck, finding it lathered with sweat. “Sorry, boy,” she whispered. “I don't make it a habit of pushing a horse so hard.”

As she rode farther into the village, she became aware of people standing outside in clusters, wailing, as though they were mourning someone's death.

“No,” she whispered to herself, dying inside at what it could mean. What if Strong Wolf
had
been imprisoned? What if he had not been given a trial and had been hung at sunup?

This thought made her head reel, then she caught sight of Proud Heart and several warriors getting their horses from the corral.

She smacked Tiny's Horse on the rump and rode in a hard gallop to the corral.

When she got there, she drew a tight rein beside Proud Heart, who was just ready to mount his steed.

“What's happened?” she cried, near to tears from frustration.

“Have you heard about Strong Wolf?” Proud Heart asked, swinging himself into his saddle.

“I heard that he had been arrested.” Hannah said, imploring him with questioning eyes. “Was he?”

“Yes, and we are making plans to release him,” Proud Heart informed. “Tonight. When the moon is low in the sky. We will go and take Strong Wolf from the fort. We are leaving now to study the fort walls, to make plans on how we will enter.”

Hannah's heart skipped a beat. “You are planning to go at night and get him from the fort?” she faltered, her voice hoarse in her fears.

“Yes, that is the only way,” Proud Heart said, nodding.

“No!” she screamed. “That is not the answer! Strong Wolf will then be classified a ‘renegade'—a fugitive. We must all come together as one heartbeat and go speak in the defense of Strong Wolf, the proud Potawatomis leader!”

She then leaned forward, her voice lower in pitch as she prodded Proud Heart for answers. “Tell me what happened,” she demanded. “Everything.”

Proud Heart proceeded to tell her about the fire they set, and then about finding Claude Odum dead at his house.

She lowered her eyes at the thought of how Claude had died. Feeling ill at her stomach, she swallowed hard.

Then she turned angry eyes up at Proud Heart. “How could Colonel Deshong have, for one minute, thought that Strong Wolf would kill his friend?” she remarked, her voice shaking. “It doesn't make any sense. We must do something to stop this lunacy.”

She thought for a while, then leaned closer to Proud Heart. “Send for the two braves who have been recently attacked and beaten by white men,” she said flatly.

“And why would I do that?” Proud Heart questioned, getting annoyed by her persistence.

“White men caused their bruises and contusions,” Hannah said matter-of-factly. “They must go to the fort with us and show their wounds to the colonel.”

“One of our warriors is dead because of white men,” Proud Heart retorted sarcastically. “Do we take him and show him also to the white men at the fort? You see, they
have
already seen them. It meant nothing to them.”

He folded his arms angrily over his bare chest. “I do not wish to do as you asked,” he said stiffly.

Hannah reached over and placed a gentle hand onto his arm. “Please,” she begged. “But not for me, Proud Heart. For Strong Wolf. We must try everything to prove that what he did last night by burning the bunkhouse and letting the horses free was justified because of what was done recently to his people. He is a proud man. He could not just stand by and take it. He had to show some force, to prove that white men can't just keep on taking from Strong Wolf and his people while he stands by like a coward and allows it.”

Proud Heart still said nothing.

“Proud Heart, give my idea a chance,” Hannah said softly. “It's much better than going at night to try and get Strong Wolf from the guardhouse. You know that many lives might be taken on both sides. My way, a peaceful approach at trying to prove Strong Wolf's innocence, might work. Please . . . give . . . it a try?”

Proud Heart thought hard for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, we will give it a try, and then if it does not work, tonight we take him by force,” he stated.

“Thank you,” Hannah said, beaming.

She sat quiet in the saddle as the two braves were sent for. When they came to the corral, looking puzzled, she smiled down at them.

“Take off your shirts,” she ordered softly. “You must show your scars, bruises, and contusions to the general at Fort Leavenworth.”

The braves turned questioning eyes at Proud Heart.

He nodded, giving his consent.

Once their shirts were removed and they were on a horse, Hannah thought of something else.

“Proud Heart, get the fallen warrior's bow,” she commanded, flinching when he gave her an angry stare. “Proud Heart, we must take that bow to the colonel and tell him that it belongs to the dead warrior, and tell him that his bow or any other Potawatomis' bows will never be used for hunting again for the men at the fort.”

Proud Heart saw the logic in the suggestion. He sent a warrior after the bow.

“Something more, Proud Heart.” Hannah added quickly. “Are there any gifts that Claude Odum gave to Strong Wolf that you can show the colonel, as solid proof of Strong Wolf and the agent's undying loyalty to one another? To prove once and for all that Strong Wolf could never kill him?”

Proud Heart's eyes widened. “Yes, there are such gifts,” he said revealed bitterly. “A beautiful pipe and shell beads of wampumpeag, or wampum, have been exchanged as signs of good faith and friendship between Strong Wolf and the agent.”

“Please get them so that we can take them to the fort and show them to the colonel,” she said, seeing him stiffening at the suggestion. “Please, Proud Heart. Do this one last thing. I won't ask anything else of you, except to go with me and stand at my side as I argue for Strong Wolf's release.”

After these were secured in a buckskin bag, and the bow was there, ready to be taken to the fort, Hannah smiled a silent thank you to Proud Heart, and then to the rest of the warriors. She was in awe of how they trusted her.

Yet why would they not? she thought to herself. She had been chosen by their leader to soon join them in the capacity of ‘wife'!

Sitting proudly tall in the saddle, Hannah left the Potawatomis village with a soft prayer in her heart that the colonel would listen and believe!