“Yet, becoming as a ghost, unable to be seen, is not?” he queried.
“I suppose it’s a matter of degree and what’s most imperative. So, can you make us invisible or not?”
“At another time, perhaps, but it would take too long and too much concentration just now, and my mind is becoming muddled with the pain dust. However, if we disguise the canoe well enough, it will serve the same purpose.”
“You mean cover it with brush or something?”
Silver Thorn nodded.
“And I suppose, given your delicate condition, that’s going to be my job.” Nikki shoved herself to her feet. “Okay, but once you’re well, you owe me big time, Thorn.”
With him directing her actions, she soon had the craft resembling a fallen log. “So far, so good,” she commented, eyeing her accomplishment with a critical eye. “So, what about us? What do we do? Stick our arms in the air and make like a couple of trees?” She struck a demonstrative stance.
He laughed outright, with no sign of discomfort. “No, my amusing wife. We leave this site and hide elsewhere, in the event your efforts are in vain. Come. Help me rise that we may be on our way.”
Evidently, though he no longer felt pain, his muscles were still weak. With her aid, he made it to his feet and teetered precariously for a moment before gaining his balance. After donning her backpack and handing him his bow to use as a cane, Nikki wedged herself beneath his arm, on his good side, to lend her support. “All right, let’s see how far we can get without breaking your wound open again. But I’m warning you, if you start bleeding heavily again, we’re going to stop and take our chances.”
“Yes, Nee ke yah,” he replied placidly, grinning at her. His words sounded just different enough from the pronunciation of her name to make her wary. “What did you call me?” she inquired suspiciously.
“I called you my mother,” he stated unrepentantly. “She, too, is small in stature, but possesses a domineering nature.”
Nikki offered a wry smile. “A woman after my own heart. I can’t wait to meet her. I’ll bet she could tell me some hair-raising tales about your childhood escapades.”
“Someday I will take you to visit with her,” Silver Thorn promised. “Presently, she and others of our tribe have gone to live with our brothers, the Cherokee, away from the madness of this war into which Tecumseh has drawn us.”
Nikki wasn’t about to add to his misery by informing him that his mother would not be safe there, either. If she were still living with the Cherokee in a few years, she would undoubtedly be among those marched forcibly along what had become known in the annals of American history as the Trail of Tears. Many, young and old alike, would fall along the way, dying of fatigue and starvation.
Later, when Silver Thorn recovered from his injury, Nikki would tell him, and maybe he could warn his mother and convince her to relocate elsewhere. Perhaps to Canada or somewhere out West. At present, he had enough to worry about.
As they stumbled along, Nikki dragged the branch behind them, but she doubted she was erasing all evidence of their route. Just when she thought surely it would be safe to stop, that it was doubtful they were being pursued after all, she heard the distinctive howl of a hunting hound. Her eyes widened, meeting Silver Thorn’s.
He voiced her thoughts. “Dogs. They have brought dogs to track us. Had I suspected they would do so, we would have stayed on the river, where they could not follow our scent.”
“If we’d done that, you’d be dead by now for lack of attention to your wound,” she pointed out. “You’d have bled dry trying to paddle that canoe, and I couldn’t have managed it on my own, so don’t blame yourself. Personally, I’d rather have you alive; but if we want to stay that way, we’d better come up with another plan real fast.”
As a team, they scanned the immediate area, noting no handy place to hide. Then, Silver Thorn glanced upward. “I will go on and draw them away from you. This tree will provide sufficient concealment if you climb high enough into the branches. I do not believe they will think to look there. Even should the dogs pause, they will catch my scent and follow it.”
Nikki shook her head, negating his proposal. “Nothing doing. Whither thou goest, and all that. If I can hide there, so can you. Most people never see what’s right in front of them, let alone bother to look up, so we should both be safe as long as we’re quiet.”
“You forget the dogs and their keen noses, Neeake. They will stop and point out our shelter to the soldiers.”
“If we’re lucky, they’ll be miles ahead of their masters. Maybe we can chase them off before the men catch up.” Nikki grabbed his arm and tugged at it. “Come on, Thorn. Move it. The time for hesitation has passed. Either you climb up there with me or we both make a run for it, and I can’t see either of us eluding capture that way.”
“I doubt I have the strength,” he argued. “But you do.”
“Damn straight!” she countered stubbornly. “If I have to, I’ll haul you up there by the nape of your neck, inch by blasted inch; but one way or another your butt is going up that blasted tree!”
It must have been adrenaline that endowed them the extra surge they needed. Nikki could account for no other explanation. Somehow, pulling and tugging and boosting one another, she and Silver Thorn hoisted themselves into the tree, climbing high into the thick screen of leaves—and not a moment too soon. Below them, so far that it made Nikki dizzy to watch, a trio of hounds bounded from the brush.
Noses to the ground, the dogs scurried to and fro and ran circles around the base of the tree. Then, of one accord, they began to leap up and down on the trunk, pushing and shoving and baying at the top of their lungs—their insistent howling a signal that they’d trapped their quarry.
Nikki’s nerves, already frayed, went haywire. She clung to the narrow limb, trembling so hard that the leaves surrounding her shook and rattled. It was fortunate that Silver Thorn was perched on a separate branch, which she had not set quivering, or he would never have succeeded in stringing his bow. However, just as he took aim at the dogs and was about to release the arrow, four armed soldiers burst onto the scene.
Without brushing so much as a leaf, Silver Thorn melted back amid the foliage. Mutely, he motioned for Nikki to be still. Though she tried, tiny whimpers echoed in her throat. She could only hope they could not be heard from below.
“Whatcha got, boy?” one soldier called to his hound. “Did ya tree somethin’, fella?”
“By gum, I think they have,” a second man said.
“Yeah, more’n likely a ’coon,” the third fellow contributed. “That dog o’ your’n is ’bout worthless as tits on a boar hog, Luke.”
“He’s a sight smarter than yours,” Luke countered. “Least mine don’t chase his own tail the day long.”
“Pipe down, you two,” the fourth soldier ordered. “I thought I heard something rustling around up there.” He peered upward, squinting against the sun.
His friends did likewise. “Danged if I see anything,” one said.
Lady Luck chose that moment to awaken from her nap. Chattering angrily, a fat fox squirrel leapt onto a lower branch, noisily berating them all for intruding on his territory.
“See?” the dissenter scoffed. “Told ya it weren’t nothin’ to get all het up about. Nothin’ but a bushy-tailed varmint.”
“Looks like supper to me,” Luke claimed, raising his rifle to his shoulder. “Bet I kin get ’im with one shot.”
Some distance above, Nikki stifled a scream. Fortunately, the squirrel was still chattering loudly enough to cover the small sound which emerged. From her vantage point, it looked as if the soldier were aiming straight at her, and it amazed her that he could fail to see her. Then again, with her dark dress and hair, she blended in with the bark, which could now prove a calamity instead of a blessing.
Luke had the hammer back and his finger on the trigger when, out of nowhere, a large, furry beast came streaking past the hunting party. It dashed between Luke’s legs, k
nocking him off balance, and bolted into another clump of bushes. The dogs, their attention diverted from their original prey, gave chase.
Luke tumbled to the ground, his gun flying from his hands and landing several feet away. The weapon hit hard, discharging its load on impact.
“Shee-it!” Luke’s buddy exclaimed. “Did you see that? That were a blamed wildcat, or my name ain’t Tom Clancy. Fergit that scrawny squirrel. We got better game now, lads.”
“Tom, quit yammerin’ on. We got bigger trouble. Luke’s been shot.”
“Shot?” Tom echoed stupidly. “He shot hisself?”
Several yards overhead, Nikki was nearly faint with relief. Until hearing that Luke had been shot, she hadn’t been sure she or Silver Thorn hadn’t been. Pumped full of painkiller, Thorn probably wouldn’t have felt it. For herself, she’d heard tales of people getting wounded and being too much in shock to register the pain immediately. She was overjoyed to discover that this was not the case. Moreover, she was stunned to realize that she felt not an ounce of sympathy for poor Luke, now bleeding like a stuck pig.
“C’mon! We got to get him back to the fort,” one of the men said.
“What about those Injuns?” Tom wanted to know.
“Jesus, Tom! What you got for brains, boy?” another man exploded. “Yer ma must’ve hatched you on a stump! Forget the Injuns. Most likely, they’re halfway to Canada by now, and Luke here needs a doc right fast!”
Within minutes, they were gone, thrashing through the brush, carrying their fallen comrade with them.
“We should wait to make certain there are no more soldiers coming before we leave our safe refuge,” Silver Thorn suggested quietly.
“That . . . that’s fine with m . . . me,” Nikki stammered. “I couldn’t move now if my life depended on it. My legs have turned to Jell-o, and my arms seem to be glued to this limb. You may just have to leave me here to rot.”
“What goes up, must go down,” he misquoted.
“Don’t bet on it. Unless I just let go and drop like a stone, which may be my only recourse.”
“You mis-value your own courage, woman.”
“It took full-fledged panic to get me this far off the ground. I’ve climbed my share of trees in my younger years, but never this high up. It may take a bomb to get me down again.”
He delivered the necessary missile effortlessly as he said, “I will require your assistance to make the descent myself. My wound is bleeding anew.”
That’s all it took—an admission from this strong, caring man that he needed her help, and the knowledge that without it he could die. Nikki sighed, long and deep, knowing that no matter how shaky and scared she was, no matter what it took to accomplish it, she would somehow get them both safely on the ground again.
She inched toward him, muttering, “I’ll bet Jane never had this problem with Tarzan.”
Chapter Ten
They were back on the river, headed northeast. Nikki had bound Silver Thorn’s wound with fresh dressings. At his further instruction, she had first sprinkled another chalky substance from his medicine bag on it and packed it with moss. All this seemed rather primitive to her, but she’d seen the miraculous effects of the painkiller he’d taken earlier and had to trust that these archaic remedies would work just as well.
She was concerned, however, that the added exertion of paddling the canoe was aggravating his wound and sapping his energies. Even with Nikki manning the second oar, she could see the strain taking its toll on him, but nothing she said would deter him. He was determined to get them further into Indian territory. Already they had put many miles between themselves and Ft. Loramie. No other forts now lay between them and Chief Black Hoof’s village.
It was late afternoon when they reached the end of the river. Or perhaps its source; Nikki was not sure which. Either way, the result was the same. The river had ended; and according to Silver Thorn, they would now have to portage across the marshy expanse for a few miles before encountering the Auglaize River and continuing on to Wapakoneta.
Traversing dry land would have been one thing; trudging through this bog was another, requiring much more energy. “We’ll never make it,” she told him. “Even if I could carry the canoe, you’re much too weak to walk that distance in this mire. We’ll have to camp here and continue on in the morning when you’ve rested.”
“No. We must go on,” he insisted.
“Damn it, Thorn!” she shouted. “Don’t be so frigging stubborn! Even with that magic powder of yours, you’re not Superman!”
He ignored her and bent to lift the canoe onto his shoulders. The weight of it sent him crashing to his knees. The craft fell to one side, but Silver Thorn remained as he was, head bent, shoulders stooped, his breath coming in labored gasps.
Disregarding the muck, Nikki knelt before him. As his eyes met hers, she noted their glassy appearance. His copper skin, even more flushed now, was taut and dry. Despite the heat of the day, not a drop of perspiration dotted his flesh.
Reaching out her hand, she tested the temperature of his forehead. “Great Scott! You’re burning up! Why didn’t you say something earlier? I’ve got a bottle of aspirin in my purse. It’s a modern medication to reduce pain and fever, though I doubt it will do much for the infection, which is more than likely the underlying cause.”
“That is why we must hasten to reach Black Hoof’s village,” he reiterated. “There, you will be safe and I can obtain proper care. Should the fever render me unaware, my people will watch over you until I am well again.”
She could not refute his reasoning. In view of his rapidly worsening condition, getting him aid was more imperative by the moment. “Okay, if you can manage to place one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face, I’ll manhandle the canoe somehow. It’s too big for me to carry, but I suppose I can drag it along without damaging it too much. God knows, the ground is soft enough that it shouldn’t hurt it.”
Stubborn didn’t begin to describe this man of hers. He insisted on pulling his own weight—and the front end of the canoe. As much as Nikki hated to admit it, even to herself, she could not have managed it on her own. It was a supreme effort simply to trudge through the swampy sludge. Though she’d removed her Nikes and looped the tied laces around her neck, the mud sucked at her bare feet, making every step twice as hard as the last.
Only once did Silver Thorn expend the energy to speak, and only to issue a dire warning. “Watch for snakes, Neeake.”
That short statement sent shivers rippling up her backbone. He would tell her this after she’d removed her shoes! “What kind of snakes?”
“Water moccasins and rattlesnakes. The others are harmless.”
Nikki was fairly certain she could recognize a rattler if she spotted one, and maybe a water moccasin, but she had to ask, “What do I do if I see one?”
“Stop and stand perfectly still until it has passed. If you do not move or make enough noise to vibrate the ground, it will disregard you and go on its way.”
“Right,” she replied on a gulp. “No problem. If I do see one, I’ll probably faint anyway, so you won’t have to worry about me screaming or dashing around like a nitwit.”
It was slow going, and what amounted to approximately three miles took them three hours to negotiate, but at long last the Auglaize River was in sight. By now, Silver Thorn was barely coherent, and Nikki figured it would fall primarily to her to navigate the craft to the village. But first she had to know which direction led there.
She was about to ask Silver Thorn what course to take when another canoe, bearing two Indians, sailed into view. They steered directly toward her and Silver Thorn. Her heart in her throat, Nikki could scarcely squeak out, “Thorn. Tell me you know these two Indians bearing down on us and that they’re friendly.”
Her message got through his muddled brain, for Silver Thorn raised his head and peered at the men approaching them. “Fear not. They are friends, from Black Hoof’s band.”
As they drew c
loser, Nikki saw a large lump of furs resting in the center of the canoe between the two men. Apparently, they had been trapping animals for their pelts. Then the furry hump moved, raised its head to display two huge tufted ears, and leveled a golden gaze in her direction. “Thorn! That’s the lynx, isn’t it? The same one you claimed was your pet.”
“Macate,” he confirmed, rasping out the lone word.
“But . . . how? How did it get here? All the way from the caves?” Nikki was utterly flabbergasted. Then another astounding thought came to her. “It was him at the tree, wasn’t it? He tripped that soldier and saved our lives.”
Silver Thorn grunted what she assumed was an assent.
“Holy Neds! This is getting weirder and weirder!”
The men beached their craft and hurried forward. A quick interchange, conducted entirely in Shawnee, ensued. Then one of the men hoisted Silver Thorn’s canoe on his shoulders and carried it the rest of the way to the river. The second fellow, bracing Silver Thorn against him, shepherded Nikki along behind.
Just before he passed out, Silver Thorn murmured, “I have told them you are my wife. They will not harm you. Behave yourself, Neeake.”
As if she had any other choice! Upon reaching Wapakoneta, Silver Thorn was hustled into a wigewa, followed immediately by several men and women whom Nikki could only hope were the Shawnee equivalent of surgeons and nurses. Though she tried to impress upon them that she was Silver Thorn’s wife, and therefore should be allowed to remain at his side, they turned deaf ears to her pleas. She was left to sit outside the entrance to the wigewa until finally a woman approached her and gestured for Nikki to accompany her.
To Nikki’s surprise and delight, the woman spoke broken but understandable English. When Nikki repeated her wish to stay with Silver Thorn, the woman told her, “I have much sympathy for your desire to be with your husband, but you must allow the medicine men to tend to him. Your man is very sick, and it will take all their skills to make him well. Later, when he is mending, you may sit with him and care for him, but for now you must not be in the way.”
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