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Authors: Susan Edwards

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BOOK: White Wind
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Chapter Thirty-Two

Wild-Flower faced east in the early morn, ready to greet
Wiyohiyanpa,
the Spirit of the East which presided over the new day. She hugged her knees close, waiting for the warmth of the new sun to warm her, as she balanced on a large boulder jutting out from the rocky hillside.

Rising before the light of day after a restless night of tossing and turning on the hard rocky floor of the small cave, Wild-Flower had already packed her belongings and lashed them to her horse.

Eating her morning meal of wild plums and fresh berries, she relaxed as she enjoyed the quietness surrounding her. Her horse, hobbled nearby and shielded by a small stand of pine trees and brush, munched the tall grass, its green now turning to brown. Letting her eyes wander, gazing upon the beauty of the hillside, Wild-Flower knew there was no point in going to the village until evening to see if Red Fox had returned.

So lost in thought and daydreams of her love was she that it took a long moment to realize that the ground beneath her was actually vibrating. Wild-Flower quickly leaped from her high perch to flatten and conceal herself on the ground just as the sound of thundering hooves grew near.

With bated breath, she heard Flying Dove, hobbled out of sight, snorting nervously. Wild-Flower risked a peek through the thin barrier of tall brittle grass that grew among the various-sized boulders dotting the hillside. She bit her lower lip as there was no time for her to reach Flying Dove’s side to calm the restless mare. Wild-Flower could only hope the approaching rider would not hear her horse and come to investigate.

Staying as low as possible, she watched horse and rider burst through the trees on her right and continue past her hiding place without breaking stride. Wild-Flower sighed with relief. Flying Dove had not given their presence away.

Her relief was short-lived, however, as she stared after the retreating horse carrying two riders. One was an odd-looking trapper, the other a woman slung across the lap of the white man, her long braids dangling, whipping against the horse.

Wild-Flower’s mouth flew open, and she resisted the urge to jump to her feet. Her hands smothered her cry of horror. “Sarah?” she whispered softly, shaking her head in denial. But she knew that yellow hair could only belong to Golden Eagle’s captive. “I have to do something,” Wild-Flower told herself. “But what?”

She rose from her hiding place and paced, stopping to stare at the point where Sarah’s captor had rounded a bend. She had deliberately stayed far enough from Golden Eagle’s village to avoid possible discovery, and now found she was too far from them to fetch help. She quickly calculated she’d lose precious time trying to alert Golden Eagle’s people. If they were delayed, there was the chance the white man would elude them if he knew these hills, or worse, harm Sarah before help could catch up.

In the space of seconds, Wild-Flower had made her decision. She ran to her horse, put her food and water in her pouch and removed the rawhide hobbles. With a flying leap, she sat astride her wide back. Ears perked, the horse flew onward, needing little direction from her young mistress. Trained well, she knew what was expected of her.

Wild-Flower’s mind raced as well. She knew what she had to do. Tearing the rawhide thong from around her neck, she tossed it over her shoulder to land in the swirling dust kicked up by her mount’s flying hooves as she raced after her friend in need, careful to keep her distance.

Wild-Flower sent a prayer of thanks for the unorthodox training her father and brother had bestowed upon her. She prayed she would remember all she’d been taught and that someone would miss Sarah soon and come after her. She wished she’d been able to smuggle out her bow and quiver of arrows. But her family would have noticed those missing immediately.

Making sure she left an obvious trail so Golden Eagle and his people would not have to spend precious time searching, she pulled bright colorful pony beads from her dress front and let them fall.

 

Chief Hawk Eyes reclined against his willow backrest, leisurely consuming his morning meal. The daily chores would not be done today. Instead the day would be given over to preparing for a feast and night of celebration. He looked to his right. Upon arising, he’d unrolled his feather bonnets and hung them from a pole to fluff. The feathers fluttered and lifted as the breeze touched them. He studied them. Both were made with the feathers from the golden eagle.

One was a short and simple headdress made with thirty-two feathers from the eagle’s tail placed in a circle around a hide skullcap base. The other was a more elaborate bonnet with two long tails of eagle feathers that stopped short of the ground. Tonight he would wear the one with two tails.

Finishing the last of his meal, he rose and from another pole at the back of the tipi removed his shield and coup stick, a long willow stick with several eagle feathers attached that he used in raids to touch the enemy and count coup. Hawk Eyes closed his eyes, his heart pulsing to the beat of the drums that would soon fill the air. His body quivered in anticipation of the feasting and dancing that would go on all night.

He also anticipated listening to his warriors count coup. The two warriors who had killed the buffalo with such accuracy would regale all with their brave deeds over the roaring fire. Their arrows, dug from the bodies by the women, would be presented for all to see. It was all part of sending thanks to
Wakan Tanka
and
Tatanka,
the Spirit of the Buffalo, for guiding their hunters and allowing them to take the beasts necessary to their survival.

A soft voice intruded on his musing. Calling out his permission to enter, Hawk Eyes returned to his seat as Bright Blossom stepped hesitantly inside the chief’s tipi.

Bowing her head in respect, Bright Blossom turned and addressed Seeing Eyes. “Is Sarah not feeling well today? She was to come to my tipi early to help with the preparations for our feast tonight.”

Seeing Eyes raised her brow and looked over at her husband. “We have not seen Sarah this day, Bright Blossom. Perhaps she is still sleeping.”

Bright Blossom shook her head in confusion. “I went to her tipi, but there is no answer to my call. I had thought perhaps she was here.”

Hawk Eyes rose, his gut tightening, instinctively sensing something was wrong. He knew from experience that if Sarah had promised her help, she would have been there.

Nodding for his wife and Bright Blossom to follow, Hawk Eyes strode the short distance to his son’s tipi. He didn’t bother waiting for the women as he entered without calling out.

Seeing Eyes entered behind him and slowly looked around. Suddenly, her eyes grew round. Putting a hand to her head, Seeing Eyes fell to the ground, hands covering her eyes, as if to block out a fearful image.

Hawk Eyes stepped out of the tipi and barked orders for the village and surrounding areas to be searched. He turned, realizing Seeing Eyes must still be inside. Swiftly, he reentered and knelt beside his distraught wife. “Come, love, you must help us search.” He took hold of her hands, which had turned icy, and pulled them from her face. He sucked in his breath at the stark fear that stared back at him.

Clutching his strong brawny arm in a panicked grip, the older woman shook her head, her voice hoarse with fear. Tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks. “She is gone. Evil has come for her.” Her head slumped forward as she moaned and started wailing. Hawk Eyes lifted his wife, cradled her close and carried her back to his tipi.

 

Riding into his village just minutes later, Golden Eagle was so eager to seek out Sarah that the unusual behavior of his people did not make any impression. It seemed forever since he had held her, made love to her. As neither he nor Red Fox had slept much last night, they’d woken the others long before daybreak, eager to return. Riding hard when the sun showed her face, they’d made excellent time.

Golden Eagle and Red Fox pulled up short, finally noting the unnatural hustle in the village. Sliding down, Golden Eagle ran to meet his father. The chief’s grave expression sent shivers of fear down his spine.

Motioning his son and Red Fox to enter the tipi, Hawk Eyes followed and wasted no time. Walking toward Golden Eagle, he laid shaking hands upon his sun-warmed shoulders and broke the terrible news.

“Sarah is gone, my son. She has not been seen since last night.”

A loud buzzing filled Golden Eagle’s ears, drowning out all sound. He shook his head, positive he’d not heard right. But one glance at this father’s drawn features left him reeling with shock at the news. He fell to his knees, shaking his head in disbelief. To his right, he saw his mother’s pale, tear-streaked face. “No! That can’t be!” he cried out.

Swallowing hard, he looked at his father. “Are you sure she hasn’t gone to the stream? What about Bright Blossom’s tipi? She must be here somewhere.” Golden Eagle’s stomach lurched at the negative shake of his father’s head to each desperately asked question.

Quickly, Hawk Eyes told his son of his mother’s haunting vision of an evil source that would surround and try to choke out the goodness that was Sarah.

“Her guardian,” Golden Eagle shouted. “He’s the one responsible for this. I must find her. I leave immediately.”

“No, my son. You will not go alone. But first, we must find signs of her and who took her.”

Fanning out from the entrance to the village, silent and grim-faced warriors searched the area for signs of a member of their tribe all had come to like and respect. They found the warrior who had been knocked unconscious, but he could not tell them anything.

So intent was their search, the warriors did not notice the approach of a large group of riders until they were nearly upon the village.

Hawk Eyes and Golden Eagle looked to each other in confusion as they stared at the approaching group of grim-faced warriors. Silently they went to meet their unexpected visitors. The search for Sarah came to a temporary halt.

Holding his hand in greeting, Chief Hawk Eyes greeted the stern-faced chief. “White Cloud, what brings you to the village of Hawk Eyes?”

Running Wolf edged his mount forward and replied for his father. “We come for Wild-Flower.”

Startled gasps were heard from curious onlookers. Stepping forward, Golden Eagle asked, “Why would Wild-Flower be here, Running Wolf? She has not been here since the last time Running Wolf and his warriors came to visit.”

“Not true, Golden Eagle. She hides here. We followed her trail to your village. She is here.” Running Wolf’s black eyes flashed.

Ignoring the angry young warrior in front of him, Golden Eagle addressed Running Wolf’s father. “Chief White Cloud. I have only returned a short while ago from a hunt. I have not seen nor heard from Wild-Flower.”

Unable to remain silent any longer, Red Fox stepped forward. “Why would Wild-Flower be here?”

White Cloud held a hand high to still the questions being thrown at him. “My daughter and I had an argument. Her trail leads to this area. I can only hope that Wild-Flower has come to the village of Golden Eagle. I ask you to tell me if she is here. I ask you to keep this father from further worry over his daughter.” Stepping from his mount and stretching wearily, White Cloud strode to his friend, worry lines etched across his weathered old face. “I bid you, Hawk Eyes, friend to this old chief, have you news of my daughter?”

Reaching out to grasp the upper arms of his one-time adversary, Hawk Eyes truthfully replied, “No, my friend. My son speaks the truth. None here has seen Wild-Flower.” He led White Cloud to his tipi. “This is a sad day, my friend. We also search for one missing from our village. The white girl has just been discovered missing.”

Golden Eagle, entering behind the two chiefs, expressed a thought. “Perhaps Sarah and Wild-Flower are together.” He turned to Chief White Cloud. “The two formed a friendship on your daughter’s last visit to us.”

“Ah, the white captive. I have heard you have one living in your tipi. Perhaps that is the reason for my daughter’s unhappiness. Perhaps your white captive is why Wild-Rower felt she had to run away?” White Cloud directed a hard angry glare at Golden Eagle. “Tell me about this white girl and her place in your tipi. My son tells me she is very beautiful.”

Unable to meet Chief White Cloud’s penetrating and accusing gaze, Golden Eagle stuck his head out of the tipi and motioned for the other warriors to keep searching.

Hawk Eyes took over. “Sit, Chief White Cloud.” He indicated the seat of honor. “We have important matters to discuss.”

Sitting as well, Golden Eagle received his father’s nod and gave a brief summary of the events that led to finding Sarah and his reasons for bring her to his home. Golden Eagle touched lightly upon how they met earlier, and how he had felt responsible for the
safety and well-being of the girl. He finished with praise about how well Sarah had adapted to their way of life and his wish to make Sarah his wife.

“So. The stories I have heard are true. And what of my daughter? She is to be put aside in favor of a white woman? What of our need to join the two tribes by marriage?” White Cloud’s nostrils flared angrily.

Meeting the angry chief’s proud gaze, Golden Eagle tried to explain. “Chief White Cloud, Wild-Flower and I have talked. It is her wish also to marry another. The one she has given her heart to comes from this village. He is brave and worthy of your daughter. Could the two tribes not be joined in this manner?”

Looking down his arrogant nose. White Cloud directed his displeasure at Hawk Eyes. “It was agreed upon that the eldest son of Chief Hawk Eyes would join with the eldest daughter of Chief White Cloud to right the wrongs of my father. If your son chooses a white woman over Wild-Flower, he will have made the same choice as my father when he chose a French captive over your mother,” White Cloud reminded the other chief. “Your people killed my father and mother for making such a choice. Wild-Flower’s honor would be destroyed. She would be shamed before all.”

Golden Eagle’s hopes sank. He tried to concentrate on his father’s reply, but noise from outside the tipi grew louder, causing those inside the tipi to raise their voices to be heard. The men in the tipi fell into an uneasy silence as each thought of his words before speaking them. The childish voices arguing outside grew loud enough to divert the men from their thoughts as they all looked toward the entrance.

BOOK: White Wind
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