“There is only one more person in our party,” Mia said, her spine stiffening at the thought of Tiny Brown cowering inside the cabin, afraid to show his face. “His name is Tiny Brown. He is my father’s assistant, who helped man our scow…a scow we no longer have. As I have already told you, it…it…was stolen in the night. We have been left stranded here.”
Something about the white woman, her innocence, her ability to speak with him, an Indian, so easily—even though most white women were terrified of men with red skin—made Wolf Hawk believe that she was not lying.
But he did not want her to know that he trusted her. Perhaps she was able to lie while looking someone square in the eye. He would practice restraint; he would not allow her, yet, to know that he trusted her.
Trust had to be gained.
A search of the cabins would prove whether or not she deserved to be trusted.
“You say that your party numbers only three?” Wolf Hawk said stiffly. “My warriors will search all of the buildings and see if you lie, or tell truths.”
He looked over his shoulder at his warriors. “I will stay with the woman and her father while you search,” he said stiffly. “Go to each cabin. Make a thorough search. Soon we shall know if this woman tells the truth, or is skilled at lying.”
“I have told you, there are only the three of us,” Mia said, worrying about her father. He was standing perfectly still, and was strangely quiet.
She could feel his weakness as he clung to her. And she could hear his shallow breathing. It sounded the way he breathed when he was about to have one of his attacks!
“Please believe me,” Mia begged. “My father…”
Wolf Hawk saw how desperate she seemed to be, and wondered whether she was truly worried about her father, or afraid his warriors would find others hiding in the fort.
“Search carefully,” he shouted at the warriors who were already going in and out of the other cabins.
The woman truly did seem concerned about her father, and Wolf Hawk thought that surely she wasn’t pretending.
“The search will be quick,” he hurriedly advised. “If you tell truths, then we will leave you to yourselves.”
Mia didn’t know how she felt about being left alone without a way to leave this place, yet she realized that it was foolish to consider this Indian someone who would concern himself about white people and their troubles.
It was surely crazy to think of asking this Indian for help. She knew that most Indians despised the ground that white people walked on.
“May I take my father inside so that he can return to his pallet on the floor?” Mia asked softly, pleading with her green eyes for understanding.
Wolf Hawk was just about to tell her that she could return her father to a more comfortable place, but was stopped when one of his warriors came running toward him, an armload of pelts held before him.
“These pelts were surely hidden here by the trappers!” Blue Sky exclaimed as he stopped directly in front of Wolf Hawk.
Wolf Hawk’s eyes went wide with surprise as he reached out and ran a hand over the plush softness of the pelts.
“There are many,” Blue Sky said, looking over his shoulder as other warriors came carrying more and more pelts. “We found them hidden beneath a trap door in yonder cabin.”
Seeing that the woman had not been truthful, and surprised that she was such a skillful liar, Wolf Hawk stepped around the warriors and stopped directly in front of Mia.
“You lie,” he growled out. He nodded at another warrior. “Go inside. Find those who are surely hiding in there. Bring them out to me. Surely there are two, not one, as the woman indicated.”
“There is only one man in there and he has nothing to do with trapping,” Mia cried as two warriors brushed past her and her father and went inside the cabin. “He…helped…my father on our scow.”
“You lie so easily,” Wolf Hawk said stiffly. “Did you know that not only animals have died in your dreadful traps, but also two young braves who got trapped in those jaws of death!”
“Died…oh, no, please don’t think I…we…had anything to do with such as that,” Mia cried. “We knew nothing of these pelts. When we arrived, to rest for the night away from the river, we chose this cabin without looking at any others. We knew not of any pelts being hidden there. We know nothing about trappers. When we arrived here, we looked only in this cabin. All we wanted was a place to rest. My father…he…isn’t a well man.”
Wolf Hawk glanced over at the woman’s father again, seeing that he seemed to be getting worse by the minute. His shoulders were slumped and his breathing had become painfully shallow.
He wanted to believe this woman and offer to help her father, but how could he now trust anything she said?
How could he have any feelings for this elderly man when two of his own people, young braves who had had a lifetime ahead of them, were dead, and surely because of these white people!
Suddenly the warriors who had been sent inside the cabin came out, forcing Tiny ahead of them with hard shoves.
“There was only this one man in the cabin. We have found no others in the fort,” Blue Sky reported.
“And he is who I said he was,” Mia tried to explain. “He is only with me and my father because he helped row our scow.”
Tiny said nothing, only cowered in the Indian’s grip, his eyes pleading silently with her to make the Indians understand who he was…most definitely not a trapper!
“You still lie to me after we found proof of your dishonesty?” Wolf Hawk growled out. “Tell the whole truth now, white woman. If this tiny man is who you say he is, then where are the others? I know that there were two more because I found two horses abandoned in the forest. Surely the men came back here and are hiding even now as we speak. Are there other trapdoors where they might be hiding?”
“Oh, what can I say now to make you believe me?” Mia said, tears filling her eyes. “We were traveling on our scow down the Rush River on our way back home, to St. Louis. We stopped for the night. While we were sleeping, someone stole our scow. Surely it was those men you are speaking about.”
“That could not be so,” Wolf Hawk objected. “Trappers would not leave behind a prime catch like these pelts that we found.” He took one step closer to Mia and her father. “It is time to stop this game you are playing…”
At that moment Mia’s father gasped, grabbed at his chest, then fell to her feet.
“Papa!” she cried as she dropped to her knees beside him.
She checked his pulse and could feel none. He was dead!
He had suffered a massive heart attack this time. And there was only one person to blame: that vicious, heartless Indian chief who wouldn’t listen to reason!
She glared up at him through her tears. “You caused this,” she cried. “You frightened my father to death! Do you hear me? He is dead! His heart has failed him!”
Wolf Hawk was stunned by what had just happened.
The white man had died right before his eyes, and it did seem that fright had killed him.
Yet Wolf Hawk refused to feel guilt over the death of someone who was a part of the scheme that had led to two of his young braves’ deaths.
If this woman had told him the truth from the beginning, perhaps her father would still be alive.
“Please leave,” Mia said, sobbing. “Don’t you see that you have done enough here? I have lost my father. What more could you want from me? I have nothing, nothing now. My mother is already dead, shot down by an Indian’s deadly arrow. And now my father? Oh, please leave. Please, please leave. The men you are searching for are surely long gone…on my family’s scow. I have told you more than once that it was stolen during the night. When you find the scow, you will surely find your trappers.”
“And you think I should believe that?” Wolf Hawk said stiffly. He nodded toward her father. “I will give you time with your father, but then you and the tiny man must come with me and my warriors to my village. That will dr
aw the other two men there to rescue you. It will be their second mistake, for I will not allow myself to be fooled by a mere woman.”
He looked her slowly up and down, then gazed into her eyes. “What man could leave not only the pelts behind, but also you?” he said thickly. “You are beautiful, and though you are so small, you have the spirit of a wolf.
“We will take not only you to the village, but also the pelts. That will be enough to eventually lure them there. When they do come, they will get far more than they expect.”
Mia saw the uselessness in begging him any more. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the terrible picture of her father lying there, dead, then looked at him again.
“Papa, oh, Papa, what am I to do?” she whispered.
Chapter Twelve
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d.
—William Shakespeare
Mia was so distraught over her father’s death, she found it hard to go on. She was thankful that at least the young chief was allowing her to bury her father before she was taken to his village as a captive.
Mia had no idea what lay ahead of her. She knew nothing of any Indian tribe’s habits, except for what she had read of terrible atrocities they had committed against white people out West.
She had also read accounts of the cavalry slaughtering huge numbers of Indians at a time, men, women, and children, alike. Part of her did not blame them for fighting back in any way that they could.
As she knelt beside her father for a moment longer, she cast a smoldering glance over her shoulder at Wolf Hawk. He was standing several feet away from her, watching her along with his warriors.
“Please?” she suddenly blurted out. “Can’t you go and stand somewhere else as I say a prayer over my father? Can you not be decent enough to let me be, as I…I…bury my father? You are responsible for his death by frightening him into a heart attack. At least give him the respect that is due him, for he did not have a mean bone in his body. He never would have done anything to harm you or your people. He was a gentle, loving man.”
She wiped tears from her eyes as she gazed directly into the young chief’s eyes. “You have lost someone dear to you,” she said, her voice softer. “The two young braves. Did you not have a time of mourning for them? Please allow me the privacy to mourn the one I love…and have lost.”
Wolf Hawk listened with his heart. There was so much about this fragile woman that made him believe that she spoke the truth when she said she had had nothing to do with the traps that had killed the two braves.
Yet the evidence of the pelts was against her. He could not give up the chance that the trappers would come to claim her once she was taken captive to his village.
No, he would not allow the sweetness of her voice, nor the pleading look in her lovely green eyes, to sway him from what he must do. Nonetheless, he did understand that she needed moments alone with her father. It was the only decent thing to do; to give her those moments.
He said nothing, but nodded to his warriors and stepped away her. He led them to the entrance of the fort, where the gate stood open, and waited there. From this position, he could still see her kneeling over the body of her father just outside the cabin.
He could also keep an eye on the tiny man who stood somewhat away from the woman and her father. He saw no respect whatsoever in the man’s eyes, nor sadness. All that Wolf Hawk could identify was annoyance when the tiny, whiskered man gazed down at the woman whose name was Mia.
Wolf Hawk’s instincts told him that this tiny person was not a man of good heart. He was the one that Wolf Hawk would question at length once they returned to their village.
He would leave Mia alone to mourn her father while he took this man, called rightfully enough by the name Tiny, and question him until he finally told the truth.
“Thank you,” Mia murmured to Wolf Hawk. “I…won’t…be long.”
Wolf Hawk nodded, then turned to his warriors. “Blue Sky, go and direct the others to return to the entrance of the fort. We must prepare several travois to transport the pelts we found here back to our village. Tell them to hurry, for we shall all be leaving soon for our village.”
Blue Sky nodded and hurried to do his chief’s bidding.
Wolf Hawk turned again and watched the woman as she stood up and went to the small man. He bent his ear in their direction, to hear what they were saying, for he did not want anything to get past him. He had given this woman his permission to bury her father. Nothing more.
He saw the tiny man go into the cabin and return with a rusty shovel in his hands. He could hear the woman pleading with the little man to please dig the grave for her.
“Mia, I’ll dig this damn grave for you, but hear me well when I tell you that I am sneaking away from this place at my first opportunity,” Tiny said just loudly enough for Mia to hear.
She watched as he began to dig the dirt out of the ground, seemingly only an inch at a time. Again she was reminded of what a useless man he was and regretted the moment her father had hired him. She had wondered sometimes if he was running from the law, for he seemed the shiftless sort who might have done something that warranted jail time.
“Did you hear me, Mia?” Tiny demanded, pausing to rest for a moment on the shovel. “I’m sneaking away when I see the chance. You can stay and face the music, yourself. I’m not paying for the wrongful acts of others and I don’t give a damn what happens to you. I was paid to steer the scow to St. Louis, nothin’ more. It’s not my fault that all your plans have gone awry.”
Mia stiffened as he talked. Tiny was now leaning lazily against the shovel instead of digging.
She was afraid the young chief might come at any moment and order them away before the grave was dug and her father laid to rest in it.
“You lazy coward,” she hissed out. “I don’t care what you do after you get that grave dug. You are a useless, horrible human being.”
“Oh?” Tiny said, lifting his eyebrows. He threw the shovel at her. “If you’re going to call me useless, why should I waste my time digging a grave? You do it yourself. Your father was nothing to me. Do you hear? Nothing.”
Mia gasped at his words. She knew the ground was hard and doubted that she could finish digging a grave large enough for her father.
But seeing that Tiny meant what he was saying, and that he had gone back inside the cabin, leaving her alone to complete the chore, she began crying. She tried to dig the grave, but found it impossible.
She knew that she must, though, so she continued to chop at the earth, only dislodging tiny bits of dirt.
Wolf Hawk saw what had happened.
He watched the young woman trying so hard to dig through the hardened ground, but saw how little she succeeded. He knew that she must bury her father in order to mourn him properly. Wolf Hawk was a man of religion and understood how one must care for the dead. He could not allow her to suffer any longer.
He left his warriors and hurried inside the cabin to confront Tiny. “You are not a man, but instead a woman,” he said, his jaw tight. “A man would not make a woman do his work. Get out there. Dig. Prove that you are a man.”
Tiny could not help being afraid of the young chief, but there was nothing on this earth that would make him do the work he had said Mia must do.
It was true that her father was nothing to him. Why must he behave as though he cared by helping dig the grave? Tiny squared his shoulders and glared right back into Wolf Hawk’s midnight-dark eyes.
“You do not do as you are told?” Wolf Hawk said, leaning his face down into Tiny’s. “Must I force you? Do you wish to be humiliated more than you are already are? Shall I march you bodily out there to dig that grave?”
Tiny’s will bent a little under the wrath of the chief’s words, but he just would not let this red m
an coerce him.
And he needed time alone. He needed this time to make his escape through a back window. He was absolutely not going to be taken to the Indian village and possibly tortured for answers he did not have about those trappers.
He preferred to be stubborn now in the hope of finding a way to escape. He had heard the chief order his warriors to the front of the fort. This might be the opportunity he needed.
“I heard the woman call you a coward,” Wolf Hawk spat out. “You are worse than that. You are a nobody.”
Wolf Hawk walked away while Tiny glared at his back. As soon as he was alone, Tiny hurried to the back of the cabin, crawled through the window, then made a mad dash toward the fort’s rear walls. He was relieved to see that there was enough space between some of the boards to escape through.
He would find some place to hide until the Indians departed; then he would watch the river for someone to rescue him.
Breathing hard, he ran and ran, all the while glancing time and again over his shoulder, relieved when no one gave chase. He made his way into the thickest part of the trees, searching for a place to hide.
While Tiny was making his escape, Wolf Hawk was speaking to Mia.
“Come with me where the earth is softer,” Wolf Hawk said, gently taking the shovel from her.
Mia was stunned by his kindness, yet as she walked with him from the fort, she could not help feeling uncomfortable at his nearness.
He was a savage.
Her mother had been killed by a savage’s arrow.
Who was to say that this very Indian had not shot the arrow? Or perhaps one of his warriors had taken it upon himself to kill a white person as vengeance for the lives of the many red people whose lives had been taken by soldiers.
The more she thought of this possibility, the more she did not want this Indian to dig her father’s grave. It seemed sacrilegious, somehow.
Although she knew it would be almost impossible for her to dig a grave out of the hard, bonedry ground, she just could not let this man do it. She told herself he was nothing but a savage, even though she had been taken by his handsomeness and his recent kindness.
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