Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
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.
Strapped over one shoulder hung his rifle, and upon his back, a quiver full of arrows and his bow were in place.
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 image Red Hawk beheld 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.
But leaving the scene of what could have been a battle did not 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 another time. 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.