Blue Thunder

by Spangaloo Publishing

  Weeping Bird giggled.

  “My nephew is wise, listen to him, Moon Glow. And finish blanket,” she added with a stern voice, unable to hide her smile.

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  Weeping Bird managed another giggle.

  “It is getting late, we must prepare supper. I wonder what is keeping Star Gazer,” she muttered her thoughts out loud when she remembered that she had sent her younger nephew out earlier looking for porcupine needles. Not liking the look in Weeping Bird eyes when she mentioned Star Gazer, she looked at the young maiden’s eyes who mirrored what she believed was the same worried expression she had.

  “What’s the matter?” Moon Glow asked, studying her handy-work with a deep frown.

  Weeping Bird told the white woman that Star Gazer was gone from camp too long, she shrugged; her face screwed into a frustrated pout, more concerned about her crooked stitches. “He’ll be back soon. You know how he loves to daydream.” She tossed the blanket into the basket with a sigh.

  Laughing Tree was also concerned.

  Star Gazer was so engrossed in thought that he didn’t hear the giant grizzly bear hiding in the thickets. His senses were sharp but he let his mind wander, making the greatest mistake an Indian or anyone who treasured his skin, could make.

  Then it was there. The hot breath on his neck, bringing him fully aware of the danger he was in. Instinctively, he rolled off the boulder from where he was sitting and onto his knees. In that quick motion, he stood to face the danger only inches away. The giant bear stood on his hind legs with his head raised, sniffing his fear and growling fiercely, showing off his large brown teeth. The animal’s eyes were darker than any starless night Star Gazer had ever seen and there was no compassion in the depths of its black orbs.

  The beast swung his mighty paw, slicing the air with claws like a white man’s sickle. Star Gazer envisioned his body shredded like the fringe of a squaw’s dress. The beast’s eyes were hungry for a kill. He took a few steps backwards; his heart palpitated against his chest so hard he feared it would burst. His lungs ached and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat but he couldn’t produce the saliva to dislodge it and stop it from choking out his breath.

  Today I will die, he feared. But it wasn’t a good day to die. No, not yet.

  Baring his wicked teeth, the bear backhanded Star Gazer with his huge paw and he flew

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  through the air, landing in a scratchy bush, bruised and dazed. The creature was toying with him. Momentarily stunned, he watched the bear growl at the sky in triumph. The grizzly then landed on all fours and sniffed the air, giving him the moment he needed to roll from the bush to scale the nearest tree. Once again the bear stood on two legs, furious that he had to give chase.

  Star Gazer grabbed for the lowest limb but the bear wouldn’t be outsmarted and clawed at

  his leg, leaving deep gashes, like ruts over soft ground. Blood spurted out with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He screamed as he tried to lift the injured leg out of reach; he was losing blood fast. In no time he would pass out and fall into the waiting jaws of this killer. Again he cried out, hoping someone would hear his terror. But his chances were slim; he was too far from the camp. The bear swung again, missing him by inches but he knew that this made the creature grow angrier.

  He was losing his grip on the branch as his consciousness began to ebb away. In his foggy mind he thought he heard a shot and the bear howled in pain. The angry animal turned on his assailant; a young man, no older than himself, stood close by with a smoking gun in his shaking hands. The grizzly, only slightly wounded saw an easier target giving him a moment of reprieve. He prayed for the youth who stood frozen, but managed to pull the trigger again. Another shot ran out and this time he saw through his blurred vision that the bear fell to all fours, and then sank on his haunches, grunting and snorting.

  Blake January knew he had to shoot again and this time the bullet must kill. His heart nearly stopped when the wounded bear pulled himself up on all fours once more. Frightened, he raised the gun and simultaneously squeezed both eyes shut and the trigger. The gun just clicked. Damn, he had forgotten to reload it; he went weak and the air rushed from his lungs. He didn’t dare open his eyes; he knew what he was facing; a wounded animal was dangerous to reckon with. He cursed his stupidity, knowing he might die because of it. Smelling the animal’s rancid breath on his face, he prayed, “God make it quick.”

  Swish! A cool breeze kissed his face. No pain?

  Thud! Swish! Thud! His mind went numb but still no pain.

  Sweating profusely, he was afraid to open his eyelids. It took a second for the voices to register but when he realized he wasn’t alone, he bravely opened them. Two older Indians were

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  standing by the dead animal; many arrows protruded from its furry body. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. Or maybe it wasn’t so lucky that he was discovered by the Indians.

  Nervously, Blake watched two redskins pick up the injured young brave, who had fallen to the ground. A third Indian came from behind and pulled a knife from its sheath, motioning him to follow. He was still quite shaken and not sure whether to be grateful or not. Right now he decided to be thankful; he’d worry about his hide when his heart went back to its natural rhythm. As he walked beside the brave with the knife, he noticed the Indian was a tall woman.

  The wounded red man’s leg was bleeding profusely. He was unconscious, and placed over a horse while the older Indians rode double. Blake doubled with the maiden and was escorted to a strange structure and left to ponder over his future.

  Earlier, Laughing Tree had sent Weeping Bird, Silver horse, and Black Wolf into the woods to look for Star Gazer. Melissa and Laughing Tree sat consumed with fear; it had been too long since the three went searching. When a shot rang out, both jumped and Licks Too Much leaped up barking.

  “Take dog, stay in wickiup,” Laughing Tree ordered and put her hand gently on her shoulder. Melissa nodded, understanding her command. “You stay, I will see. Take knife,” she threw her weapon at her feet. She was frightened and looked at the weapon as if it would jump

  into her lap. “Do not come out until I return. If it is raid by white dogs run into woods.” Laughing Tree was gone, leaving her staring at the shiny object lying at her feet. She waited for what seemed an eternity and feared for the life of her unborn child. Would the white men kill her thinking she was a squaw? They would have to be blind not to see she was white. It was quiet and she wondered if she should take a peek outside but decided against it and huddled in the corner of the dwelling waiting for Laughing Tree to return. She sat lathered in sweat, her imagination running rampant. The dog lay by her feet whimpering. Finally, Laughing Tree returned. “Come quick, Moon Glow! We need you!” She was roughly pulled to her feet. “Bring needle and sinew.” The excited woman pointed to her basket. Melissa immediately understood and nodded. “What, what happened?” She swallowed fear, her tongue tasting like a copper coin and her question went unanswered.

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  Confused and shaken, Melissa was practically dragged by Laughing Tree into Dasodaha’s dwelling. At first she saw the medicine man dancing and chanting like he did for Blue Thunder. Their eyes met chillingly and she saw hatred erupt from the old Indian. He never forgave her interference with Blue Thunder’s healing. Still wondering what happened, Laughing Tree pushed her past the medicine man into the middle of the huge hut. It was then Melissa saw Star Gazer covered with blood. Her hand flew to her mouth as she held down the bile that quickly rose. Immediately, she knew what they wanted of her. But could she do it?

  She knelt by his side, seeing his right leg practically shredded to the bone. He had lost so much blood that even if she stitched him, his chances were slight. But there was no other option

  but to try. She loved Star Gazer as if he were her own brother. Her eyes scanned the dwelling for something to use as a tourniquet, to staunch the bleeding. She noticed the rawhide belt around Laughing Tree’s waist. Without
explaining, Melissa grabbed the belt and quickly untied it and tied the rawhide to Star Gazer’s upper thigh, above the wound.

  “Hold tight until I tell you to loosen,” she ordered Laughing Tree who turned pale. She then took the woman’s trembling hands and placed them over the knot. Thankfully Laughing Tree understood and nodded with tears spilling from her eyes as Weeping Bird entered the wickiup. Melissa ordered the young maiden to bring a bowl of water and cloth and the girl returned quickly with them.

  She cleaned his leg as well as possible and the bleeding was slowed with the tourniquet. It took a long time to stitch the leg and her hands slipped on his blood and her sweat. By the time she finished, her fingers were so pricked and sore; she didn’t know who’s blood was who’s. Breathing shallowly, Star Gazer was now in God’s hands.

  She watched Weeping Bird smear ointment and placed moss over the injury before wrapping it. Although Melissa was exhausted, she insisted on staying with the young brave. She and Weeping Bird slept by his side until he awoke, thrashing deliriously. He was running a high fever and she prayed that his leg would not become gangrenous. But now she worried more about torn stitches and he needed to be restrained but there was no bed to tie him to.

  She told Weeping Bird to fetch two braves and some poles while she did her best to hold him down, but even unconscious, he was very strong. The pain was making him wild. When the

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  Indians and Weeping Bird entered the wickiup, they found her atop Star Gazer’s body. If the situation wasn’t so serious she could’ve laughed at the expression on their faces when they looked at the strange sight, then at each other.

  “Quick! Come place stakes on either side of his arms and good leg.” Her Indian tongue wasn’t perfect and in her excitement she mixed the two languages, but Weeping Bird instructed the men to follow her orders. When it was done, he was tied to the pegs. She and the maiden took turns in bathing Star Gazer’s body. Laughing Tree and other women came throughout the night with water from the pond to relieve them. She and Laughing Tree spent the next two days tending his wound and trying to get fluid into him. He became semiconscious for brief moments but it was so painful that Melissa was glad when he lapsed into sleep again.

  By the third day his fever abated but his leg was still infected and oozed small amounts of puss. She had fared pretty well, considering all that happed but when the diseased area was burnt with a red hot knife by Weeping Bird, she up-chucked from the smell of burning flesh.

  Melissa asked Weeping Bird if she knew of any brave still having white man’s fire water. The maiden wasted no time in finding some trizwm instead. She had mixed feeling about the poison and if Blue Thunder hadn’t touched it, she would have never hurt him. But now this would help Star Gazer deal with the pain. With the help of Weeping Bird, the intoxicating drink was forced down the brave’s throat to keep him from thrashing about again. On the fifth day the fever broke and there was no sign of continued infection. He awoke for longer moments of time and she fed him small amounts of food and more whiskey to help dull the senses. By the end of the day, Star Gazer’s speech was slurred but he didn’t seem to feel any discomfort. On the sixth day he rose saying that he had a wicked hangover and insisted he would have rather lived with the pain in his leg. Melissa gave him solid food and when he fell asleep, so did she, but slept fitfully because of the whooping outside.

  Laughing Tree had explained that when one of the tribe fell sick several fires were built in the camp, and while the rest lay around on the ground with solemn visages, the young men, their faces covered with paint, seized firebrands. They ran around and about the lodges of the sick person to scare the evil spirits away. This constant interruption and shouting didn’t give her much peace or sleep, but then finally exhaustion over took her and she conked out.

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  TWENTY-SIX

  Jason St. Andrew had returned to the spot where he left his cousin, Blake January. He pulled his hat off and swiped an arm across his brow, then scratched his head feeling how his hair was matted. Damn, he needed a bath and he should have gotten one when he doubled back to the town he and Blake had passed three days ago. But he knew his cousin was alone and waiting for him. If their pack horse hadn’t run off during the night with their provisions, he wouldn’t have needed to return for more supplies. As it was, if the town wasn’t so small, consisting of a general store, restaurant, and a three room boarding house, he might have been able to purchase another horse. Even a mule, but he couldn’t so Jason carried what he could in his saddle bags.

  It had been a ghastly journey as it was. He and Blake were robbed on the train, and then narrowly escaped a small band of renegades before finding the wagon train in which his sisters were traveling. And then he had to learn of his younger sibling being attacked and raped, Mellissa abducted, and his dear servant murdered.

  He cursed. He had lost so much, including the sight in his right eye when a ball creased his temple fighting Johnny Rebs. He should consider himself lucky since he didn’t lose the eyeball, only the vision. If no one was the wiser, his blind eye wasn’t noticeable, only the scar that ran from his temple down his cheek. But he did have a habit of bumping into things. When

  he had witnessed his friends losing arms and legs, some times both limbs, he thanked his lucky stars. He was also lucky to have bumped into Blake in town after discovering the empty house that was once his beloved home. Vacant slave shacks and cotton rotting in the fields gave him one conclusion; the northern soldiers had been there. Then discovering two freshly dug graves with a crude maker that was engraved with the names, Darrell and Mary, he sadly realized that his parents had been killed.

  Now he was ready to fight for his sister Melissa, but where the hell was Blake? The hairs on his neck rose. Had his cousin been captured by the Apache’s while he was gone? With a

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  closer investigation, he discovered blood on the ground; too much of it in different places to come from one person. Well, he had no other option but to sneak closer to the dwellings and spy. His only hope was that he wouldn’t find Blake tied to a stake. Those heathens could be ruthless and Melissa better be alive or he’d scalp a few redskins, for sure. Pulling Scout by the bit, he walked his horse by his side. That black horse cost him a pretty penny but his father had a savings in the local bank, and the owner Mr. McNorris, being a good friend of the family gave Jason no trouble turning over part of the money. After the robbery, Jason wired for the remaining savings, this time hiding it in his boot. He continued to wear his gray army coat as a badge of honor for proudly defending his beloved south.

  As he crawled closer to the camp, he saw that only a few Indians were about but as he began to creep closer, a commotion erupted, and what few Indians were around began to gather in the middle of the village. He would bide his time.

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  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Blue Thunder and his people returned after six days of hunting. They brought back litters of buffalo meat and hides; the Indians used every part of the buffalo, including the hooves which they made glue. He and the returning party were tired but pleased. He headed for his wickiup anxious to see his wife. Before he entered, he was approached by Weeping Bird who told him what had happened in his absence. He quickly turned towards his father’s dwelling.

  Dasodaha stood by his lodge with Laughing Tree by his side; together they quickly disappeared inside. Blue Thunder entered as his father was bending over his injured brother. After his eyes became accustomed to the dim light, he went to Star Gazer and found him asleep. His father and aunt said they were happy to see him home, and he nodded telling them that he’d speak with them later about the hunt. There was nothing he could do for his brother, knowing he was in good hands. He then he saw Melissa sleeping in the shadows and he gently picked up his exhausted wife and took her to his lodge. He placed her on their mat and gave her a light kiss on her pale cheek, letting her sleep a long time.

  Blake sat restlessly in the hut. The pesky buzzin
g of a bumblebee was the only sound in the hut besides his heavy breathing. He wondered if Jason had returned and what he’d do when

  discovering he was gone. It had been many days since that terrible experience in the woods and he was tired of waiting. No one came to question him but he was fed and treated well. An Indian came to take him to the pond to bathe and see to his needs. When he asked questions about the injured boy or the whereabouts of a particular white woman, they paid no attention to him. So he sat and waited.

  He noticed that the camp was quiet. He assumed most of the people were out hunting and there was no one but a handful of old Indians and a few women folks. The anxiety of not

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  knowing what to expect was driving him crazy. Blake was about to stick his head out for the hundredth time, but changed his mind knowing all he would see was an old Indian sitting on guard. Standing to stretch his legs and arms, he cracked his knuckles over his head. He did some shadow boxing to limber up. Damn! If someone didn’t come soon, he’d fight the old guard and go looking for his cousin. A commotion outside made him freeze the upper cut to his shadow. Many horses approached, disturbing the silence and he peeked out to see red men and women coming back to the village.

  “Maybe now someone would come,” he growled beneath his breath, patience was not one of his virtues. Hours later a tall Indian entered; the brave was big and muscular and very handsome. Was this red man the leader? Would he be tortured soon? Their eyes locked, and he knew the Indian had as many questions that needed answers as he did.

  He stood and asked, “Where is my cousin, Melissa? If you’ve harmed her....” concern roughened his voice, but he controlled his temper. If he didn’t get some answers soon, he’d speak his mind. He would keep his cousin Jason a secret, for now; see what was in store for him. He