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Doc Barber stopped at Sidhean Annie one afternoon and brought news from the Navajo camp. Short Feathers, the father of Blue Deer, was displeased that Daniel had made his son an artificial leg. The boy had been ecstatic when Daniel and the doctor had first presented it; the leather cuff fit over his thigh and a series of criss-crossed leather bands buckled around his leg and waist. Tommy had crafted a jointed foot, and between the boy’s long pants and his new knee-high moccasins, the wooden leg was never seen. Blue Deer walked with a slight sideways limp, and treated the prosthesis with devotion.
But Short Feathers had forbidden the boy to wear it, and his son was again being tormented by his peers, while the old ones were once more ignoring his gifts. Theo told them the boy was heartbroken and had taken to sitting silently in his hogan, which displeased his father even further.
Leaving Annie at the dairy farm one morning, Daniel asked Tommy to accompany him to the Navajo camp. They visited with the elder Running Wolf, whom Daniel had counted among his friends for years. Though he was no chief, his people had followed him without question, but now Running Wolf was losing his influence over the tribe.
When the old chief had died, his son had ascended to power in his place. But the young warrior hadn’t lived long, dying the following spring of the measles. He had no heirs. Though his people wanted Running Wolf as their chief, he wouldn’t accept the position, stating he wasn’t wise enough to lead them. Since then, the men would meet occasionally for the ostensible purpose of choosing a new leader, but it was never finalized. The tribe was happy following Running Wolf, who respected their traditions and made no decisions without consulting them. The older people were secure in his care; the children were safe from the missionary schools and were continuing to learn the traditions of their people.
It was the youth who were unhappy, those who’d been segregated from their tribe at the missionary schools. They’d found no place in the white man’s world, found that their place in their own world had been irretrievably denied them, and the reappearance of Yellow Knife was turning some of them against the wisdom of their elders.
The woodsman listened carefully to Running Wolf’s words. They spoke a patois of English, Navajo and Spanish, each man understanding more of the other’s language than he could speak, with Tommy interpreting where needed.
Yellow Knife had come back with six more warriors. The tribe hadn’t turned them away, for the way of the Navajo was to welcome all. Here the elder gestured at Daniel. The same, he said haltingly, as the way of the Donovan. The woodsman accepted the compliment with a nod.
But the young people had been restless and the hatred Yellow Knife bore for the white man had infected them. Running Wolf could no longer control them. Their parents had lost contact with the children through the long years of missionary school, and the bonds of mutual respect hadn’t been forged. Criticism was met with rage and accusations of cowardice. The harmony of life had been disrupted, and Running Wolf tried to express his regret. But the elder’s parting words were not lost on him.
“Go no more alone. Go careful. No more alone.”
The message sent a chill down the woodsman’s spine. He offered the older man his hand, then turned and picked up his rifle as a warrior came into the camp. He was younger and slightly taller than the woodsman, his face set in a sneer. His bare chest was broad and muscular, his arms corded with veins. His hips were narrow, his legs as heavily muscled as his arms. His skin had an unmistakable tint of yellow, indicating a white ancestor somewhere in his past. Daniel wondered if it accounted, at least in part, for his hatred of whites.
The warrior came close, stood in front of Tommy, and spat out some words Daniel didn’t understand. But Tommy waved a dismissive hand at Yellow Knife, flicking him off as he would a fly. Having forty pounds of muscle on the interloper, and no lack of confidence in his own skill as a fighter, Tommy was obviously not in any awe of Yellow Knife.
But he’d still be a formidable opponent, Daniel thought, then wondered at it; they had no quarrel, yet it was plain the Navajo was antagonistic to him as well as to Tommy.
Rifle in hand, Daniel nodded once again to Running Wolf, then turned and slipped into the forest. He looked back once to see perplexity on the face of the young warrior and smiled to himself. It had been a long time before the tribe had accepted his accomplishments as a hunter and tracker. White men, they were sure, were no more at home in the woods than mule deer would be in the town. Evidently Yellow Knife shared this prejudice. Someday it might stand me in good stead.
Again he wondered at the thought, turning it over and over in his mind. A nagging suspicion couldn’t be eradicated. I’m getting like Annie—I’m trying to read the future. But she’s the one with the gift, not me. And it will only frighten her if she senses this fear in me. So he beat his uneasiness down, but slipped cautiously through the woods until he was on Donovan land again.