by J. R. WRIGHT
“Brave Fox not father anymore! Woman mine! We go live with other tribe on far side of Paha Sapa.”
“What Indians are they?” Luke asked, anxious for an answer. He knew of no other tribes nearby. At least, none until reaching the Powder River country, a good ways to the west.
Bright Moon screamed again, and Luke saw from the corner of his eye that she had gotten loose and was charging toward him. This prompted Chaska to charge him as well, with knife raised high. Bright Moon was the closest, so he attended to her first with a swift kick to the midsection. It was an action that sent her reeling, eventually sprawling on the ground and balling up in pain. Chaska was near on him when he turned about, ducked, and drove the rifle butt into his ribcage. This sent him to the ground as well, also balled up in pain.
The knife ended up on the ground at Luke’s feet. It had blood on it. That was the first Luke knew an injury may have occurred. He holstered the knife, then felt for blood in the only place there was a sensation, just over the right shoulder. Feeling a gaping hole in his buckskins, his fingers brought back blood.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, then saw Chaska up on his hands and knees, attempting to regain his feet. In anger, he went to him with a kick to the head that clearly knocked him out cold.
Seeing that, Bright Moon came charging at him once again and leaped on his back. With little effort, he threw her off, dragged her back to the tree kicking and screaming, and retied her.
“Chaska, great spirit like white buffalo, Taloma say,” Bright Moon said, when she tired of screaming and spitting at him.
Concerned about the cut on his back, Luke pulled the buckskin shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. Fingering the wound again, he found it still bleeding, but not gaping, which meant it was fairly shallow. He thought of going to the stream to wash it, but thought better of that once he felt that the raspiness of scabbing had begun. Best leave it alone, he decided. A little bleeding for now would serve to cleanse the wound. He would, however, leave the shirt off until the bleeding stopped.
It was dusk once the unconscious boy was securely tied to a tree, facing the girl. Then, after unburdening and hobbling the horses, Luke slipped away into the darkness to get some much needed rest.
Several times during the night, he changed locations, each time checking on his captives. And each time he noticed Bright Moon’s eyes on him. Doesn’t she ever sleep, he wondered? That was answered when she asked, “Do Chaska breath? Bright Moon not sleep till know Chaska live.”
Even though he knew Chaska was fine, to appease her he went to check. Leaning in close, he reported, “Chaska breathes. He’ll be fine in the morning.”
“Morning,” she repeated and finally closed her eyes.
It was crows that woke him in the morning, with their caws. They were setting in on the fish guts from the afternoon before and getting extremely close to the smoked fish over the smoldering fire.
Chaska had come around, to the delight of Bright Moon, and was trying desperately to free himself until he noticed Luke approaching. He had a good sized goose egg on the side of his head that showed some blood. It was nothing that wouldn’t heal.
Luke noticed the beginnings of a youthful beard starting on the boy’s face as he knelt to cut away the thong he had loosely tied around his neck as a secondary precaution against escape. ‘Albino Buffalo! Great Spirit! Bull!’ Luke thought. Chaska was white. All white. There was no doubt in his mind about that. But where did he come from? Whose son was he, really?
What a predicament he was in, Luke realized. He had a girl to take to civilization who didn’t want to go. He also had the so-called son of a powerful chief to contend with. If he let the boy go, no doubt he would haunt him the entire journey and possibly kill him to get the girl back. If he took him along, he’d have the entire Lakhota tribe down on him before he reached the Cheyenne River.
For the purpose of eating breakfast, Luke tied one of Chaska’s arms to another tree, leaving the strap just long enough so he could feed himself with his fingertips, but not long enough to be able to free himself with either his hands or his teeth. The girl fed herself with tied hands, as before. Breakfast was more of the fish.
The idea came to Luke while watching Chaska eat. He could leave him tied in this way, but close enough to the stream so he could also drink by lying on his stomach. He would leave the remaining half dozen smoked fish.
Surely others at the village had discovered him missing and would come looking for him, if they hadn’t already. In the meantime, there would be plenty of food to last for several days, and water indefinitely.
He needed to move fast now that he had made up his mind. At best, he would have an eight hour head start, once he had readied the horses and loaded the girl. Which he knew would be a chore now that Chaska was here. Understandably, she would not want to leave him again.
After relocating Chaska near the stream and placing the fish within reach, he mounted the chestnut, gathered the lead rope of the bay, and reined over to leave. Bright Moon, who screamed all the while he loaded and tied her, had settled into a sobbing state once again.
“I will follow you, white man! I will kill you!” Chaska shouted. “I will cut out your heart and liver and feed them to the crows!”
Chaska was still shouting threats as Luke rounded the bend and brought the horses to a trot.
Not being able to see him any longer, Bright Moon let fly with another love cry: “Aaaaaaaaa Hhhhhhhhhhh Eeeeeeeeeee!” It was ear-piercing in its volume. Shortly thereafter Chaska answered, but with a more miserable batch of mournful sounds.
With a heavy heart, Luke continued. He knew what it was like to lose someone you have feelings for. And it was painful even to this day, a decade and a half later. But something told him these two would find each other again, some way, somehow, even though there was no hope that would ever happen between him and Breanne. That is, unless there was an afterlife, which he gave little credence to.
CHAPTER TEN
It was around noon on the second day after leaving Chaska that the horses suddenly became fidgety. Luke scoured their surroundings and saw nothing, but never doubted someone or something was near. Maybe it was a wandering bear or wolf that had spooked them. Nevertheless, as a precaution, he chose to leave the trail and travel to the ridge top. That offered a better view of what lay around them.
Luke heard the waterfall for over an hour before arriving directly across the valley from it. It was even more impressive from this high place than it had appeared from below on the trip in. From here he could see the entire fall, from its source to the final crash to huge rocks a hundred feet or more below.
Bright Moon saw him first and acknowledged his presence by releasing one of the most blood-curdling screams Luke had ever heard.
He was standing beside the fall, a quarter of the way down from the top, almost as if he was suspended in midair. His yellow hair glistened in the sunlight. It was Chaska. And as soon as his eyes located them, he returned her call with equal force. The sound of it echoed throughout the valley, just as hers had.
As quickly as Chaska had appeared, he disappeared behind the fall and then reappeared again. This time, he was carrying a bow and arrows. He made his way along the ledge behind the falls, on across to the hillside, and then vanished into the trees.
How in hell had he gotten free so soon? Luke quickly removed Bright Moon from the pack horse and tied her to a tree. He then moved the horses a short distance away and tied them to separate trees. Afterward, he moved back to Bright Moon and gagged her with his neckerchief before taking both rifles and climbing higher on the hillside.
He located a proper breastwork, a fallen tree about fifty yards from the girl, and crouched behind it. He waited for what seemed an eternity. Nothing moved, no sounds were heard, until the bay horse began pawing at the ground, clanking her shoe on a rock as she did so. Luke tried to gather a sign from this, but found the horse only looking at him. The intelligence of the horse and his o
wn instincts caused him to do what he did then. He leaped with all the quickness he could muster for the other side of the log. It was just in time to be missed by an arrow that stuck firmly where he had been.
Luke readied a rifle, but found he didn’t have a target. Chaska was nowhere to be seen. Looking around for better cover, he located a huge rock further down the hill and made a dash for it, dodging as he went. An arrow passed by him as he ran, narrowly missing his head.
Another arrow, which Luke saw coming, nicked a tree to his front and ricocheted off the rock. This time he saw where Chaska was hiding and fired a round in his direction. In haste, he gathered the other Hawken just in time to see Chaska duck from one tree to another. Again, he fired.
Now, with both rifles empty, he hurried to load the one in his hand. He needed it for protection, even though he had no intentions of actually shooting Chaska. He knew the consequences if he should be killed. There would be no chance of ever being on peaceful terms with his village again. And the news would spread to other villages of the Sioux, causing bad relations all around, if not an all-out Indian uprising.
What he hoped for was that Chaska would run out of arrows. Once defenseless to this extent, his plan was to load the girl and simply ride away, using the rifles to dissuade the boy from trying to jump him. After that, it would be only a matter of time until Chaska tired and fell behind. No way would he follow him all the way to the Fort. Or would he? No doubt he was determined, or he wouldn’t be here.
What Luke hadn’t considered was an all or nothing frontal attack. Chaska showed himself, as if he was about to launch an arrow, then ducked back behind the tree, drawing fire from Luke. The time it would take Luke to reload was much too long for what Chaska had in mind. Bow in hand, intended to be used as a club, he reached Luke with a flying leap, to be on top of the rock Luke was behind.
Under the circumstances, Luke was forced to use the rifle as a club as well. His swing caught Chaska in midair, knocking the wind out of him. But the worst of the damage was done when his knee crashed into the rock in the process. The pain was so intense that it brought a loud cry from Chaska that echoed through the valley.
Luke stepped back to reload one of the rifles in case Chaska decided to continue this skirmish, smashed knee cap, cracked rib, and all. He was relieved when he didn’t. Chaska just lay there on the ground, curled in pain.
“Now what in hell am I to do with you?” Luke said in anger, wondering when this shit would end. Surely, the village Indians were looking for him, if in fact they weren’t out there now somewhere, watching him.
“Leave Bright Moon and go,” Chaska said, holding the knee.
“Well, that’s just not going to happen! I promised your father I would take her away, and that, by god, is what I intend to do. Now, are you going to be able to walk on that leg?”
“Leg no good. Need time to heal. Have cave.”
“Where?”
“Behind fall.”
Luke suspected that, even though it wasn’t visible from here, and looked to the horses for a way to get him there. That’s when he saw Bright Moon at the tree nearby putting up a fuss, pulling at the rawhide straps and chewing on the gag. He went to her then and began cutting her loose. Luke knew she wouldn’t run away, now that Chaska was unable to follow. Once free, she raced to him and fell by his side.
Storm clouds were building in the west, and Luke knew by how fast they moved, it wouldn’t be long before it began to rain. He had a canvas as part of his bedroll, but that wouldn’t be enough for the three of them. Already it was getting colder. Since it was still April, this front could turn to snow before it passed over completely, he knew.
Collecting the horses, he hurried to where they were. Chaska was now on his feet, with Bright Moon’s shoulder for help. Then, with her help again, he got aboard the chestnut, while Luke held the skittish horse in place.
With Chaska’s guidance, Luke led both horses down the hill, across the valley, and up the steep incline on the other side. Bright Moon followed behind, and when they reached a point where the horses could go no farther, Luke noticed she had a full armload of firewood. Someone had trained her well, he thought.
Luke tied the horses, then helped Chaska down. Taking the Hawken, he helped him the last few hundred feet around the hill, across the narrow ledge behind the fall, and into the cave.
The cave, even though narrow at the opening, was quite large. It was easily twenty feet at its widest point and at least eighty feet deep, with a ceiling that rose to twenty feet at the center. The boulders that formed it were huge. Luke wondered what had caused it to be here. Some time or another, he figured, the rocks of this mountain had shifted, creating this cavity. Whatever the reason for it being here, he was grateful it was, with the storm coming in.
After a quick check inside for hidden weapons, Luke went out to further attend the horses. His plan was to hobble them tightly so they couldn’t venture far, but would still be able to forage and seek protection in the lower areas from the impending storm.
Before he could do this, however, he came face to face with a herd of antelope making their way to the top of the ridge. One quick shot brought down the closest at hand. It was an old buck, not the best eating of the group, but he was glad to have it. His ignored hunger over the past hours now resurfaced, and he became anxious.
He gutted the antelope, then unburdened and hobbled the horses, before returning to the cave with it and his personal belongs. He purposely had not reloaded the Hawken, to bar against any quick surprises. He did, however, place a new brass cap on the nipple to make it appear loaded.
Bright Moon had the beginnings of a fire when he returned to the cave with the antelope and other things. Her eyes lit up when she saw it.
“I will skin it,” she held out a hand, expecting him to hand over the knife.
“No thanks. Just tend the fire.” He waved her back, not about to let her have the knife, in light of her past actions.
Since there was no way of setting up a spit in the rock cave, fist sized pieces of the lean meat were sprinkled with salt, speared on green sticks, and seared in the flames until crispy on the outside. When Bright Moon had a quantity cooked, she took it to the grass and hide pallet where she and Chaska ate quietly together.
As was expected, it began to rain. Lightning could be seen on the other side of the fall, and thunder echoed loudly throughout the cave.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Darkness came early as the rain increased to a downpour. And as it did, the roar of the fall got progressively worse with the increased water flow. The fall itself had broadened so that now it covered the entire mouth of the cave and was splashing in. It was getting close to extinguishing the fire when Luke got up from where he sat on his bedroll and dragged what remained of it further inside. After rebuilding it with some extra wood, he moved his bedroll somewhat closer to where Chaska and the girl were, but still a good twenty feet away.
It was then Luke noticed the intense look of fear on Bright Moon’s face. She was crouching behind the sleeping Chaska as if a wolf had her cornered and was about to pounce. He glanced at the blazing fire and then at the fall, before returning his attention to her.
“Is it the fall that frightens you?”
She did not answer, but crouched even lower, not taking her cobalt eyes off it.
“Nothing to worry about. It’s just the rain that causes it to roar so loud. We’re safe here,” he said softly to reassure her, then took a mackinaw from his bedroll to cover her.
She stood as he approached, snatched the blanket from his hand, and used it to cover the two of them as she lay down to the near side of Chaska. Her eyes, however, peaking from beneath the blanket, never left the fall, Luke noticed as he climbed into his bedroll.
Morning brought no change in the weather, and only a few small sticks of firewood remained. It was cold in the cave, and more would be needed for cooking, he realized. Even wet wood would eventually dry out and burn, if added to a bla
zing fire. With that in mind, he covered himself with the canvas from his bedroll and inched past the fall, purposely leaving the Hawken behind. It was time he found out if he could trust them. Better yet, after all he’d done to prove himself, didn’t these two have trust in him? It was time he found out.
He returned to the cave a short time later, pockets filled with pine cones, which would dry quickly and burn hot, and a double arm load of dead branches.
The Hawken was gone from where he had left it, and Bright Moon sat in the shadows behind Chaska with it fully trained on him.
He dropped the firewood to the floor, dug into his pockets, and began scattering the pinecones over the fire, purposely ignoring her. They sizzled as they hit, but soon burned brightly. He then added the remaining dry wood and four potato sized river rocks, before adding a few pieces of the wet wood. The cave was aglow with light when he turned to her again.
“Do you even know how to shoot that thing?” he asked.
The click as she cocked the hammer was the only answer he received.
“I want to be your friend,” he said as he sat by the carcass of the antelope and began carving the remaining meat into chunks. “How’s Chaska?”
“Man sleeps. Need much rest,” she said to his surprise.
“Well then, you’d better wake him up. He’ll need to hold that rifle while you cook his breakfast,” he said calmly as he speared a chunk of meat and put it in the fire.
“White man cook for Chaska!” she ordered.
“White man cook for white man, not Chaska or Bright Moon. If you want to eat, you’d best get over here and cook it yourself.”
“White man cook!” she ordered again, this time raising the rifle to her shoulder.
“If you keep that up, I’m leaving and taking the rest of this goat with me. Then what will you do?”
When the meat he had in the fire was charred, Luke turned the stick to his mouth, blew on it, and began to eat. A small piece was left when he had his fill, so he pulled it from the stick and tossed it to her. Her eyes followed it through the air until it reached her hand. She looked at it hungrily for a moment, then nudged Chaska. “Eat,” she said and put it in his mouth. With pleasure she watched him consume it, then cast begging eyes back to Luke.