Running Elk

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Running Elk Page 5

by Elizabeth Anne Porter


  Morning Star shadowed her husband’s movements but stayed silent as he gathered the packed supplies.

  When he turned to face her, she looked at his chest where his necklace should have been. A look of worry crossed her face. “Where is your necklace, husband?”

  He attempted to smile a calming grin. “I lost it earlier today, but do not fear. I am sure it is not a bad omen.”

  “I will keep you in my prayers,” she said, casting her eyes downward.

  Running Elk knew tears were forming in her eyes. And that knowledge angered him. It seemed there was nothing he could do that didn’t cause her anguish.

  “I will return, woman,” he said as gently as he could manage.

  He kissed her on the cheek quickly.

  When Morning Star opened her eyes, he was gone.

  ***

  On his way toward the gathering hunting party, Running Elk scanned the area for Gray Eagle. He wanted to restress the importance of the young man’s task but in a way that did not undermine his nephew’s confidence.

  A smile crossed Running Elk’s face when he saw Gray Eagle approaching. The young man was already mounted up and ready to depart.

  “Uncle, I am leaving now. Father has spoken to me, and I know how important the woman is to you. I will protect her with my life.”

  Running Elk nodded. He had no doubt Gray Eagle was telling the truth, but prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Then she is in good hands. I will see you soon.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gray Eagle had no trouble locating the whites. The wagons making their way across the prairie made enough noise to alert anyone close by that they were there. From the clanging of bells to the loudness of their voices, everything about them told Gray Eagle that the whites were not as concerned with being attacked as they should have been. He kept his distance as the wagons trudged their way through the buffalo grass.

  Gray Eagle was sure he had located the right group because his father had described them down to the smallest detail. After settling his horse into a slow pace, he began to wonder why he hadn’t seen the woman his uncle and father had tasked him with protecting. The young warrior disliked the dark-haired man from the second he laid eyes on him. Kicking Bird had stressed the dark, loud one was the most dangerous of the bunch, but Gray Eagle found he hadn’t needed his father to tell him that. He felt the anger and fear emanating from the man, even at a distance. Gray Eagle found his emotions confusing. The fear, he understood. Kicking Bird had told him of the man’s actions when his father had been forced to fire the gun. But his anger was a curious thing. Unless the man was angry he had acted so cowardly.

  He considered watering his horse, knowing a pond was close by, but quickly decided staying with the group, until he saw the woman his uncle called Two Fires, was his best course of action. As soon as he was sure she was well, he would ride ahead and find a good place to camp for the night.

  Her appearance took longer than he hoped. It was noontime before the two wagons stopped for a meal. As soon as they stopped, Gray Eagle dismounted and crouched down while the settlers moved about, ignorant to his presence.

  When the yellow-haired woman walked from the back of one of the wagons, she seemed to sense he was near. Immediately, he felt a kinship with the white woman. He quickly decided his uncle was a lucky man; the woman was a striking beauty. He even allowed himself a moment to be envious of Running Elk. Gray Eagle had never encountered a white person who was so relaxed on the open prairie. Most he’d seen were on guard and nervous; much like the dark-haired man. Even though he had been told to stay hidden, he knew he would break his word. Just not until he had found a place to make a camp and the white man’s wagon had stopped moving for the night.

  He watched with fascination as the women in the group started a small fire and began carrying black metal pots and pans to the flame. From the looks of it, the cooking vessels were heavy and cumbersome. The next thing he saw was a clumpy, reddish liquid fall from a tin to the waiting pan. He had never seen any food source placed in a silver container before. His lunch would consist of dried berries and pemmican. The difference in their diets was something he would ask his mother about when he returned. The white man’s food was strange, but it did smell interesting.

  It was almost dusk when the settlers set up camp. Gray Eagle knew his campsite was close enough to hear if there was trouble. That was a real possibility since the fire they built was easily visible for miles. It was not smart to let a flame grow to such size. He decided to try to explain that fact to the woman when he introduced himself. If she hadn’t run at the sight of his fierce-looking uncle, the young warrior was sure she wouldn’t be scared of him.

  While he spied on the settlers, he took the time to look at some of their belongings. Wooden pieces were tied to the back of the wagons. The men had pulled a heavy rectangular piece from the wagon when they set up camp. Although he thought some of the furnishing was interesting, he didn’t understand why it was needed. His people had little in material goods. Blankets for warmth, clothing for special occasions, cooking vessels that weren’t so heavy they weighed your arms down. Everything they owned was a gift from Mother Earth, except for the guns. The guns were needed even more with each passing day.

  It wasn’t long before he saw the dark-haired man give the yellow-haired woman a rifle before kissing her on the cheek and walking to the back of a wagon. He quickly realized the group was seeking sleep for the night. Soon, the woman called Two Fires would be alone and then he would put his plan into action.

  The woman waited for a few minutes and then stood. After looking around, she began walking away from the camp. She took three steps before turning back to retrieve the forgotten rifle before continuing walking into the night.

  Once she was some distance from the fire, the woman leaned back and looked to the heavens. It was embarrassingly simple for Gray Eagle to sneak up on her. He stealthily placed one hand on her shoulder and the other gently over her mouth before turning her to face him.

  The woman jumped from fright but didn’t appear to be on the verge of screaming. So, he moved the hand stopping her from speaking. But not until he quickly shushed her, just in case he was reading the situation wrong.

  The woman remained silent as she turned to get a better look at him. She was a remarkable-looking woman. Her face was quite appealing, but her eyes were breathtaking. The young warrior once again found himself envying his uncle.

  “Running Elk sent me to watch over you. I will be your shadow until you get to where you plan to settle.”

  “Is he well?” she asked, holding tightly to a familiar necklace in her dainty hands.

  Seeing his uncle’s good luck stone in the white woman’s hands surprised him. “Did my uncle gift that to you?”

  She smiled and held the necklace tighter. “He did. The very first time we met. It gives me comfort. I’m sorry. I am being terribly rude. My name is Alexandria. What do they call you?

  Gray Eagle had to stop himself from smiling. The woman was indeed a strange one. “My name is Gray Eagle. I am son of Kicking Bird, and Running Elk is my uncle. The bauble you hold so tightly is the only thing my uncle has that belonged to his father.”

  The statement seemed to touch the woman deeply. “He did tell me it protected him but insisted that I needed protection more than him.”

  “I am certain he will be fine without it,” Gray Eagle assured her, trying to sound more convinced than he was.

  The woman smiled and sat on the grass.

  Gray Eagle kept an eye on the wagons. “You must know that my presence is to be kept between you and me. They cannot know. If you like, I will continue to visit you when it is safe. But for now, I must go.”

  “I won’t tell them. Gray Eagle.” She spoke as he turned to leave.

  He turned to look at her.

  “Do all Indians speak our language?”

  He smiled. “No, only a few in our village. Mainly my blood relations,” he exp
lained as he picked up his bow and arrows.

  “How did you learn?” she asked quickly. Gray Eagle was getting the feeling the woman would talk to him all night if he allowed it.

  “My mother, Sparrow, is white. No, she no longer holds to the white man’s way.” He corrected himself. “She was white; now she is Comanche.”

  The pride was thick in the young warrior’s voice when he spoke of his mother. In his mind, she was a strong, brilliant woman, and he would not have chosen another mother if he had the chance.

  Chapter Nine

  Kicking Bird was usually single-minded. The hunt would normally be the only thing occupying his thoughts. Yet his brother’s white woman was weighing heavy on his mind. He honestly hoped the problem would simply go away. He would have been overly pleased if the white people completely disappeared, but he knew neither one of those things was going to happen.

  When his little brother met the assembled group, Kicking Bird looked to the heavens and asked the gods to give him patience. But even after praying, he knew he was going to hear about the woman the whole trip.

  As soon as the ten top hunters were gathered and ready to leave, White Wolf walked to the center of the group. He looked at the men and said a prayer for a successful hunt.

  Once he was finished, he looked towards Running Elk. “Brother, I wish you much success on the hunt.”

  Running Elk nodded and looked the shaman in the eyes. Kicking Bird could see the anger simmering in his youngest brother.

  “I have spent a great deal of time in prayer over the last day. And believe me, I will continue to commune with the gods while you are absent. I do not want us to be enemies.”

  “I appreciate your words,” Running Elk replied. “But words are not actions. As angry as you make me, we could never be enemies. We are brothers. If you can keep an open mind about Two Fires, I am sure you will find a way to allow our union to happen. We will see each other soon.” He mounted his pinto and turned in the direction of the open prairie.

  ***

  Running Elk tried to concentrate on the hunt, but Two Fires was eternally in his thoughts. For the first time in his life, he felt disconnected from his people. He rode behind the group and tried to think of a way that he and Two Fires could be together. Even though he had never wanted anything more, there seemed to be no easy way to accomplish his dream. The other worry that plagued his thoughts was her traveling through Kiowa country. He could only pray Gray Eagle was watching closely.

  At night, when the others would sit around a small fire and tell stories, he would lie on his blanket and remember how good it felt when she was in his arms.

  Kicking Bird left him to his thoughts for the first six days of the hunt, but when he saw his brother riding his way, Running Elk knew his peace had come to an end. His brother’s expression meant they were going to talk, whether Running Elk wanted to or not.

  “I feel today we will find a sign of the buffalo,” Kicking Bird said as he rode by Running Elk’s side.

  His brother’s opening statement wasn’t what Running Elk expected, but it was at least a topic that couldn’t possibly end in angry words. “That would be good.”

  “It would help if your mind was on the hunt,” his brother added. “A buffalo could have walked in front of you, and I don’t think you would have noticed.”

  Running Elk fought the urge to prod his horse to run. Instead, he rolled his eyes and looked at his brother. It would seem he had been wrong about assuming they wouldn’t argue. Since Kicking Bird had brought up the subject, Running Elk decided to share what had been bothering him the most. “I am worried that the Kiowa might stumble over Two Fires’ wagon. The thought has been weighing heavily on my heart since we left. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered how real the threat was before. If they do find the settlers, they will not just tie them up like you did. They will simply kill the men and take the women.”

  “That is a possibility, but Gray Eagle will watch over her. Have a little faith in your nephew. My son is growing into a fine warrior.”

  “It is not Gray Eagle’s ability I doubt. I need to know she is safe.”

  Kicking Bird made a grunting sound, denoting his unhappiness with his brother’s statement. “We may get lucky and find the buffalo today. If we do, the rest of the camp will follow once Otter has informed them where we are,” he reminded him. “So, pray that this will be over in short time.”

  “A short time feels like an eternity.”

  Kicking Bird rode away, leaving Running Elk to return to his unsettling thoughts.

  Running Elk was preparing to lay his sleeping hide out when Kicking Bird returned. “Brother, come walk with me for a bit.”

  “What is there to speak about?” Running Elk asked as he turned to his brother.

  “We are family. There is always something to talk about. Let’s talk about hunting when we were young,” Kicking Bird suggested. “Do you remember the excitement? Everything was different then. I miss those times,” he said, allowing sadness to enter his voice.

  Running Elk heard a noise and quickly put his arm out to stop Kicking Bird from taking another step. He stretched out on the ground and crawled to the edge of the hill. In the valley below was a small herd of buffalo. They were lazily eating grass and enjoying the coolness of the evening. Kicking Bird, who had crawled beside his brother, began silently backing away before Running Elk.

  Running Elk was experiencing mixed emotions. He was overjoyed they had found the animal but saddened by the size of the herd. The hunter knew the reason; the white man was killing off their main food source for fun.

  After quickly counting the number, he realized he had never seen a group so small. When he was young, his father would tell him that the buffalo would be great in number until the end of times. For the first time since he lost his father, he was glad the man wasn’t alive to witness the annihilation, not only of the animal, but maybe even his people.

  Kicking Bird sent Otter back to alert the tribe, and Running Elk was left to watch the herd.

  “Brother, the camp should be here in two or three days,” Kicking Bird informed him.

  “I am going to ride ahead. I need to clear my mind. But do not worry; I will keep an eye on the buffalo,” Running Elk said, moving away from his brother.

  He was in no mood to talk. The dreams that had awoken him in the night were impossible to shake. He had seen Two Fires being taken and watched helplessly as his nephew was killed trying to stop the abduction. He had never been given a vision before and prayed the night terror wasn’t his first.

  While Running Elk was watching the herd, he fought with what his next course of action should be. There were plenty of men present, and with the smallness of the herd, he wasn’t needed. It was the first time he’d ever considered not being a part of a buffalo hunt. But his choice was a surprisingly easy one.

  He reined his horse in the direction of the hunters’ camp and decided to share his dream with his brother before telling him he was leaving. Kicking Bird wasn’t difficult to find. He was sitting around the campfire with two other hunters, sharpening his arrows.

  After dismounting from his horse, he walked behind Kicking Bird and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Walk with me, brother.”

  Kicking Bird stood and followed his brother. As soon as Running Elk was sure they were out of earshot, he told his big brother about his dream. Kicking Bird stayed silent during the retelling.

  “You saw my son’s death?” Kicking Bird asked, interrupting the story.

  Running Elk could see the news, whether it was true or not, had taken a piece of his brother’s soul. “I did not. It was just a feeling,” he lied to his brother. “I am not gifted with sight. But you have to understand the need to assure myself everything is all right.”

  “Did you see who did it?” Kicking Bird asked in a tone that led Running Elk to believe his brother wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  Running Elk was glad Kicking Bird had calmed down. He
had never lied to his brother before, but it had seemed to help. He waited until his brother lit his pipe before answering.

  “They were Kiowa. I couldn’t see the markings on their faces quite clearly, as badly as I wanted to see the one that took Two Fires. If I had been able to see him, it would be a face I would never forget. But I am sure the dream was merely a manifestation of my concern.”

  “I suppose my next question should be … do you honestly believe the dream was not a vision?”

  Running Elk took a deep breath. “I have given it much thought, brother. It may be a sign that I am needed there for some reason. Most probably it is an overactive imagination. Whatever it was, I feel that I am not vital to this hunt. You know as well as I do that the men here can handle this without me. I am sorry if you don’t understand, but I must leave. I will not be able to rest until I know the truth. If all is well, I will find the camp before I make a decision on what to do next.”

  “When will you return?”

  Running Elk knew Kicking Bird didn’t want him to go. Maybe it was fear that he had lost his eldest son; maybe it was worry that Running Elk would make good on his threats. But whatever his brother was feeling, he was still leaving.

  He began walking towards his waiting horse before looking back at his brother. Kicking Bird was standing beside his horse, watching Running Elk as he rode away. The alarm that was etched into Kicking Bird’s face was all caused by him. Running Elk prayed that if the dream had been a vision, he would be able to get to the wagon train in time to stop it from happening.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexandria opened her eyes slowly and was readying herself to stretch before climbing from the wagon when she heard the strangest whooshing sounds followed by screams and moaning coming from one of the men. Before thinking her actions through, she cautiously slid back the loose material blocking the exit and peered out.

 

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