It was as an afterthought that Red Hawk bent down and washed the blood off his face. Tenderly, he felt his head with the tips of his fingers, satisfying himself that it was merely a flesh wound. It would hold.
Taking his pony’s reins in hand, he leapt upon her back. He checked his gear. His shield, with his medicine pouch, was tied to his blanket, which he used as a saddle. His lance hung by his side, ready to grip. Over his shoulder was his bow, and upon his back, a quiver full of arrows.
He was ready.
Glancing back only once at Effie, he urged his pony into a run, putting as much distance between himself and the wagon train as possible. His spirits soared as he burst out over the prairie, for at last he could place a cause to the mysterious happenings.
In truth, he felt grounded. Here was something solid for him to hold on to, something tangible to fight. Indeed, he looked forward to the battle ahead of him, had been boldly hoping for such a moment since before he could remember.
As he rushed his pony across the short, lush prairie grass, he relished the feeling of being one with Mother Earth. The wind raced across his face, seeming to speak to him, and he inhaled the life-giving force of pure air.
Clouds, which had touched down to earth, rolled toward him. Off in the distance, lightning struck the ground as the storm, much like a cyclone, sped toward him. His pony danced uneasily beneath him, but Red Hawk soothed her and gave her full berth. For this battle, he was prepared.
“Come and do your worst!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, as his pony reared. “Meet me, man to man!”
From a lone tree to his left, an enormous bird suddenly burst into flame, its ashes falling to the ground. An instant later, another bird came into view, this one larger than a monster, half black, half blue, and as it flapped its wings, thunder spread all about it.
It was the Thunderbird, and with its breath, it roused the clouds, causing them to spin toward him. With its eyes, it spat lightning. The earth, being its target, burst into fire. But as quickly as it had come, the bird now disappeared into the rolling clouds of thunder.
“Are you afraid?” shouted Red Hawk. “Afraid to do battle with one who hates you?”
Perhaps he had spoken too soon. Clouds had settled upon the earth, and from out of their dust stepped a man, half black, half blue, with long, black-blue hair and lightning stripes branded over his face and torso. Thunder rolled across his chest as though it were part of his breathing. From his fingertips shot strikes of lightning.
He was the Thunder Being.
Red Hawk’s pony rose onto her hind legs. Still, Red Hawk held her in check. In preparation for battle, he drew his bow and lifted his lance, but then, unexpectedly from those same clouds, came a voice.
But it wasn’t the Thunderer’s call. It was a voice from Red Hawk’s past:
“Remember, Poor Orphan, that you are your band’s champion. You are not on an errand of revenge. Show your enemies mercy, give aid, but most importantly, do not engage in battle with the Thunderer even if you are able.”
The Thunderer laughed. “I will do battle with you, if you choose, Poor Orphan. Come.” With his hand, he urged Red Hawk forward.
“Haiya!” shouted Red Hawk, dismounting and striding forward. “You who have ruined my life, I will battle with you.”
“Do not engage in battle with the Thunderer, even if you are able.” So came the voice from the clouds one more time.
“Haiya! Saa!” Were his hands to be so tied? Was Red Hawk expected to do nothing, when at last his chance was at hand, when at last the Thunderer stood before him?
“Haiya!” Red Hawk uttered the word, as though it were a curse.
It took every bit of his strength, his cunning, his integrity to do as he knew he had to, for he had given his promise. At length, though every bit of his being rebelled, he turned his back on the Thunder Being.
Grabbing hold of his pony’s reins, Red Hawk jumped up on her back. Lifting his spear high into the air, he said, “As soon as I have freed my people, I will do battle with you. But, alas, that time is not now.”
The Thunderer laughed again, the clouds boomed, lightning struck the ground. Looking back, the last thing Red Hawk saw was the Thunder Being becoming a bird, which set off across the prairie. Black clouds rolled with him and lightning flashed, setting off fires over the prairie. But Red Hawk didn’t turn back.
It didn’t keep frustration from tearing at him. How could this be? At last, he was justified in doing battle with his nemesis; at last, the evil villain was within reach, had acknowledged Red Hawk by trying to kill him.
Or had the Thunderer tried to kill him?
The thought was disturbing. For indeed, if the Thunder Being had truly wished to end Red Hawk’s life, there would be little he, Red Hawk, could do. Aa, to be certain, he would go down fighting, but make no mistake, he would go down.
“Ha!” Red Hawk cried out in futility, raising his shield high into the air, as if in challenge. “I have had to walk away this time, but there will be a next. This I promise you.”
Even as the words left him, Red Hawk knew he could not do it until his people were freed, if that were to ever happen.
Trying to calm himself, Red Hawk allowed his pony to slow to a trot. If not battle, then what was he to do? To do nothing was wrong, for he could not allow the Thunderer to terrorize Effie and the others.
Glancing up into the sky, he let out another groan, opened his arms wide and shouted, “Omaopaat!”
An idea came to him. Perhaps the awareness was a gift from the Creator. Mayhap the realization occurred because, in his frustration, he could suddenly think clearly. Whatever was the cause, he knew what he must do.
When in doubt, cleanse yourself in the right way, and seek out your spirit protector.
So had spoken his old, wise grandfather.
In this moment, Red Hawk needed guidance. He would have to seek out and find the sea dog again.
To this end, he rushed off across the prairie.
“Indians. You can’t trust them,” complained John Owens.
“The man is obviously irresponsible, leaving us alone when he was hired to guide us,” added Fieldman. “But he’s not to blame, I dare say. Can’t help what’s in his blood.” The man raised his nose in the air.
“That’s unfair,” Henry spoke up. “We all felt the brunt of the attack—Red Hawk most of all. He was injured, and yet he went off to fight the enemy alone, saving us.”
“A likely story.” Owens snickered. “He has left us on the prairie to rot.”
“He has not,” said Effie.
“Father, really! That was unnecessary,” admonished Lesley.
“Be thankful he didn’t require you to go with him, Mr. Owens.” Carl’s tone was more than a little antagonistic. “But I swear if you keep this up, we might leave you here—to rot.”
Piqued, Owens blew out a breath. Yet the threat seemed to quiet him, at least temporarily.
“Well, good, I’m glad that’s settled,” Effie continued. “Now, we will wait here for him to return, as I assure you he will. There is plenty of water, we have enough food, and we are in the friendly country of the Crow. We can afford to wait…at least for a few days.”
“I don’t like it,” Owens stated with a sneer.
“Father! Hush!”
“You’re in the minority here,” Carl reminded him.
“We will wait for Red Hawk here,” said Effie in a voice that allowed no debate. “And unless you and Fieldman would like to lead us out of here and defend us on the trail as well, I suggest you both keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Hear, hear!” came the hearty response of Carl, followed by similar approval from Henry.
Owens and Fieldman, however, were not to be persuaded. With a round of disgruntled mumbling, Owens turned away, followed by Fieldman.
“Well done, Miss Rutledge.” Carl was smiling.
“Yes,” Henry joined in. “Couldn’t have expressed it better myself. Though he is my father-in-law, I heartily disagree with him, don’t you, Lesley?”
Lesley nodded.
While Madeline placed a sympathetic hand on Effie’s arm, Lesley voiced, “Please excuse me, Effie. I need to talk to Father.”
“Yes. That would be good.” Effie heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you for your defense. It is much appreciated. But now, if you would excuse me, I am so behind in my work…”
“Of course,” agreed Madeline, while the two men nodded.
Effie smiled her thanks at them all, stepped toward her tent, and after pulling back its flap, she settled onto her blanket cross-legged. With another deep breath, she picked up her journal and pen, and without hesitation, began to scribble down notes.
The lake before him was a deep blue, surrounded by stands of willows, cottonwoods and balsam. It was a beautiful spot, a beautiful water.
It was also a treacherous loch, and legend had it that it was haunted by water creatures that could lure a man to his death.
Many an Indian soul had been lost to this body of water, and to this very day, no Blackfeet warrior dared enter into its realm without penalty.
But Red Hawk was desperate. If any body of water might house the sea dog, this would be the one.
Having purified himself in the sacred smoke of sweet grass and sage, he stood at the edge of the lake. Perhaps he would find the sea dog here in this pool, perhaps not. There was a good chance he might lose his life.
All he knew was that he had to try.
Summoning his courage, for fear of the unknown held sway over him, he prepared to take the plunge into the water. But first Red Hawk lifted his voice to the heavens, offering a prayer to the Above Ones:
“Haiya, haiya, thank you, A’pistotooki, for guiding me this day.
Haiya, haiya, thank you for allowing me to understand that the Thunderer now follows me.
Haiya, haiya, I would ask for your help again, A’pistotooki, for the Thunderer is a worthy opponent.
Haiya, haiya. A’pistotooki, I know you cannot take sides.
Haiya, haiya, but, Creator, I must find my spirit protector though I am far from my home.
Haiya, haiya, A’pistotooki, I seek your guidance that I might find the sea dog.
Haiya, haiya, I am following my vision that I might help my people, and I have discovered that the one I love also needs help. She is the one you know as the water being, Effie.
Haiya, haiya, know, A’pistotooki, that I think both can be done without one harming the other.
Haiya, haiya, Creator A’pistotooki, have pity on me.
My needs are simple. Help me to help my people and the water being.
Haiya, haiya, haiya, my prayer is done.”
With this said, Red Hawk swallowed hard and plunged into the water. Nothing immediately happened. Heartened by this, he swam from one end of the lake to the other. Though he searched on and on, he found nothing but fish, and certainly not large fish.
His mood sank, and he began to think he would have to search for the sea dog in the north country, which did his cause of defending Effie little good. For, with his hands tied morally against battle with the Thunder Being, what use was he to anybody?
Disappointed, Red Hawk surfaced, noting that the sun had long since left the sky. Day was turning to evening. Shadows were already shooting across the water.
Setting his feet on the muddy bottom, Red Hawk walked to shore. So many shadows were there that he could not tell the real thing from a reflection. He saw it, there in the water, but turned his back on it.
“Otahkohsoa’ tsis!”
Red Hawk spun around. Something had called his name.
Then he saw it. It was black, long and slimy.
A sea dog. Surely, not the same sea dog he had once confronted in a time long past. Indeed, this looked to be more snake than fish.
And then, from the water, again came the call, “Otahkohsoa’ tsis!”
“I am coming,” Red Hawk called out, and wading into the deeper water, he submerged himself. It required no small degree of stamina to confront the large, snakelike creature. Still, he swam toward it until at last he came right up to it.
The sea dog opened his mouth to show two sets of fangs. Terror filled Red Hawk’s soul, but he remained steadfast, and he said, in thought, “I am here.”
“Otahkohsoa’ tsis,” began the creature, “behold, I have taken pity on you. I have watched you all this day through, swimming about in my lake, searching for guidance. Only one who is brave and true dare enter my lake, and for this, your bravery, I will bestow upon you my power of cunning and prodigious thought. The Thunderer is great, for he is a god, and he is angry at you, at all your people. Know, Otahkohsoa’ tsis, that your time to act for your people is near. You will be given two chances, one to end the curse for your people and one to render the anger of the Thunderer less. If you are lucky, you will accomplish both. Now listen, for here is what you must do…”
Effie’s two wagons were easy enough to find. At present the group was camped on an open meadow. To the north and south of the place were jutting mountains, while to the east and west were hills of a much tamer nature.
They had pitched camp next to a stream, one that housed a few cottonwood trees, as well as a willow or two and several bushes. One of the wagons was parked beneath an enormous willow, all but hiding it from view. Red Hawk crept up to that wagon first.
It was empty.
Unwilling to announce his arrival to one and all—for Red Hawk hoped to catch Effie alone—he slipped up next to the other wagon, which, though much more exposed to view, was empty as well. However, clothes, pots, pans, even the water and food supplies had been dumped and were strewn where they lay. What had happened here?
In the center of the camp, voices were raised, and leaping as noiselessly as possible into the interior of the wagon, Red Hawk paused to listen.
“I think this evidence clearly points to the fact that your Indian scout is trying to steal the artifacts from you.”
Red Hawk could see John Owens and Fieldman standing before Effie. In Owens’s hand, and dangling from it, was an Indian-made choker of blue and white beads. It looked familiar.
Belatedly, Red Hawk reached up to feel around his neck. Sure enough, his choker of glass beads and leather was gone. He hadn’t noticed.
Meanwhile, Carl advanced toward Owens and, picking up the choker, examined it carefully. “It is Red Hawk’s,” he said, as though confirming Red Hawk’s guilt.
Madeline had followed her husband and reached out to touch the necklace. “There could be some other explanation.”
“Perhaps.” Carl frowned at his wife. “But what other accounting could there be for such a drastic action?”
Carl’s statement seemed innocent, and when Madeline’s face filled with color, it looked to Red Hawk to be out of place for the situation. But her reaction was soon explained when Lesley said, “Carl, your wife is not at fault here. I’m sorry, but I heard the two of you arguing a little while earlier, and I think I should tell you that Madeline was with me when this happened. While you were out hunting, we were swimming. Now, Father, where did you say you found this?”
“In the most incriminating place possible,” replied Owens. “Beside Miss Effie’s wagon.”
“Well, that’s all I need to know,” said Lesley. “I for one agree with Father. It seems our guide has betrayed us.” With hands on hips, Lesley turned to Effie. “What are you going to do about this?”
“Nothing at the moment,” replied Effie, “since he’s not here.”
Red Hawk watched Effie’s face intently as she stepped toward them and reached out to finger the choker. She paused before she said, “Mr. Owens, Lesley, Carl, thank you for bringing this to my attention, but really I think it’s nonsense. We all saw Red Hawk leave. He’s probably miles from here right now.”
“How do we know that with any degree of certainty?” asked Owens threateningly. “We only saw him leave. What if he doubled back, only to search through your things? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, you can’t trust these Indians.”
“I agree,” Lesley uttered, her stance challenging. “In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if you are qualified enough to be in charge of this expedition, Effie.”
“That was unnecessary.” It was Madeline speaking.
Carl nodded. “Miss Rutledge has done fine so far. It’s not her fault that several mishaps have—”
“Well, if there’s any more,” Lesley threatened, “I’m going to throw my lot in with Father. I’m beginning to believe he is the only one who can find the missing artifacts.”
Silence followed this rather intimidating disclosure.
At that moment Henry stepped into the gathering. Where had he been? “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Miss Effie’s Indian friend has tried to steal the artifacts,” stated Owens. “And where have you been?”
“Washing off the deer we killed in the stream,” replied Henry. “And I don’t believe you about Red Hawk. I could swear the man is trustworthy.”
“I, too, believe this to be so,” said Effie. But Red Hawk saw her frown.
“Miss Effie…” Owens’s voice held a note of threat, “…do not think we are deceived. I have seen you wear his feather in your hair, and I have witnessed that you have a particular attachment to the man. Therefore, I have my doubts that you might be able to look at this logically, as any real scientist would do. Someone went through your possessions tonight, while we were all away from the camp.”
“Yes, yes, but—”
“This is the third attack upon this group, Miss Effie,” Owens observed, “and as I understand it, the assaults started occurring around the time when you hired this man… Hawk, I believe is his name. Twice, I have been told there were items found that would implicate the Indian, and I for one believe—”
“But don’t you see?” interrupted Effie. “That’s just the problem. If it really were Red Hawk doing these things, he would never leave anything behind. He’s too well trained a scout.”
“Bah!”
“Oh, come now,” reasoned Effie. “Have you never noticed how meticulous Red Hawk is about everything? He observes even the tiniest of peculiarities, and he misses nothing. The weather conditions, not only of today, but of months previous, he knows them all in perfect detail so he can know how long ago tracks were made. He paints himself like the environment to avoid detection. He can tell from a single track if the trail is made by an enemy or a friend. Given that, I must ask you and your daughter to consider your words wisely. Do you really think someone so fastidious would be clumsy enough to leave such obviously personal items behind?”
“Miss Effie,” muttered Owens, his countenance contorted with the beginnings of rage. “The man is Indian, and as such, is inferior to us in every way. Do you really think a savage has the reasoning ability you grant him?”
“I do,” proclaimed Henry.
Carl frowned. “I have to admit that I agree with Effie on that as well.”
Effie shook her head gently, before smiling. “Yes, Mr. Owens. I would have to agree with Henry and Carl. I think Red Hawk has this sort of ability. Now, please, all of you, I need some time alone. I need to think about this. But most of all, I need to gather up my things.”
“I’ll help.” Madeline stepped up to Effie and placed an arm around her shoulders. “And you will too, won’t you, Carl?”
Carl nodded.
“Really, John,” said Madeline, “it’s bad enough that Effie has to find all her things without you adding to her problem. And, Lesley.” She frowned. “Whether you think Effie competent or not, I wish you would help us collect up her things.”
John? thought Red Hawk, raising his brow.
Lesley was frowning. “Yes, you’re right. Just because I think she has a soft spot for the Indian is no reason not to assist her. Of course I’ll help.”
The three women set off toward the prairie, where even now Red Hawk could see many of Effie’s things blowing in the wind.
Interesting. After slipping from the wagon, Red Hawk disappeared from the camp by means of shadows and the cover of the greenery. It took no genius to realize that someone on this wagon train—or someone following them—was attempting to steal the artifacts that Effie carried. It was interesting that he had been the scapegoat this time.
It did cause him to wonder exactly who was doing this. Was there more incentive behind these attacks than the mere confiscation of artifacts?
These questions, and a good many others, he could not answer. However, he did intend to find out where John Owens and Fieldman were going, for they had not headed in the direction of their tent.
He found them easily enough. But what were they doing? They were hunched over in the water with pans held tightly in their grip. This action looked familiar.
Ah, the gold seekers. Prospectors.
Why would Owens and his manservant be hunting for gold en route to an expedition? Such behavior was very strange indeed.
Shaking his head, Red Hawk turned to make his way back to the wagons. This time he would not bother to disguise his approach. He would be leaving camp soon anyway, as he would need to scout the trail ahead of them for the morrow.
“There he is!” Henry shouted, and Red Hawk lifted his right hand, palm open, the Plains Indian sign to show he held no weapons and that he came in peace.
“Red Hawk has returned.” It was Madeline speaking.
“Red Hawk?” asked Effie, and she dropped whatever things she had been holding as she set out toward him. “Red Hawk, you’re back!” she shouted with glee. “You have been gone so many days, and we were all afraid something horrible had happened to you.”
Red Hawk smiled, for he knew, with the exception of herself, Henry and possibly Carl, that this was not so.
She raced up to him and stopped. Haiya, how he wanted to open his arms wide and welcome her into them, but he held back, for others watched.
Instead, he grinned at her and said, for her ears alone, “I thank you for defending me, my wife. And now, let us talk about that marriage.”
He watched with amusement as she grimaced.