Eagle People (4 page)

He pulled the scalps from his reins and threw them to the grasses, “Damned animals! That's what the Eagle People are. We, the Wolf People, are more civilized and refined than this. I will not be intimidated by three scalps!”  he said aloud.  

Among the Wolf People only the elite were educated and trained. They were expected, due to their royal bloodlines, to behave as cultured men and women. The common warriors and people were kept ignorant and unknowing, because they were easier to control. Educated people asked questions and caused problems with leaders, and that was eliminated by the class system within the Wolf clan.  Calvin was a member of the warrior elite, but only because his common blood mother had married a powerful chief. Regardless of his position, he knew Asa called the shots and he'd better return with information or he'd end up burning to death on some fire pole.

He suddenly noticed a bright flash of light, instantly followed by a loud crack of thunder. The clouds he'd seen earlier off to the west were now moving quickly overhead and bringing a rain storm.
I have acted like a coward through all of this. I ran, when I should have stood and faced my enemies. I can't return to Asa, not until I have the information he requested. I have no food, few weapons, no shelter or blankets to keep me warm. I must return to camp again and see if the attackers left anything behind,
he thought.

A soft rain began to fall as he pulled his horse around and made his way back to his camp. He was sure his attackers were long gone, so he expected all weapons and gear to be gone too. He had only his bow, arrows, horse and a knife. He could survive without other gear, but it would be more uncomfortable.

When he neared the camp, rain was still falling slowly, so he once again circled the camp. Finding the woods empty, he walked to where the fire had burned, saw his blanket and some meats in glass jars filled with brine under a bush, so he placed them in the center of camp. He found no weapons, but he did find three bloody blankets, two old coats, enough food for a week, and two canteens. The horses were gone.

It must have been semi-dark when one or two men searched the camp, or this would have been taken too. Thank God, this was overlooked, because it is enough to allow me to continue my mission.
 He took the supplies and gear he'd found and walked to his horse, cursing the mud as he moved.

Suddenly, he smiled.
This mud will make it easy for me to track these men,
he thought as he neared his horse. A few minutes later, his gear secured, he mounted and moved back onto the trail.  He'd try to stay a few hours behind the Eagle men.
They must feel confident knowing they've killed all but one of the men following them, and I know they saw me fleeing with my horse. It's not likely they will suspect me of trailing them. They'll think I ran back to my village.

He saw no tracks until he'd covered about a mile, when the tracks suddenly appeared in the mud. The group was moving north by west, so he relaxed in the saddle, but by no means did he stop scanning the countryside for danger. The Eagle People were known to be ruthless and cunning as an enemy, and he knew from his recent experiences they checked their back trail often.
It was likely the smell of our food and smoke that allowed them to find our camp,
he thought.
From now on, I'll not sleep where I cook and my overnight spot will not have a fire. I must be smarter than them, if I expect to return to Asa. Asa will be another battle, but one I must face. I suspect if I return with what he needs, I'll be spared death.
A shiver went down his spine at the thought of facing the war chief.

The rain continued all day and near dusk, he moved from the trail, tied his horse to a tree limb and then returned to hide his horses tracks leading into the trees. He pushed the sides of his tracks inward with his foot, to help fill the hoof prints, and then use a branch to 'sweep' the tracks. He knew that in a few minutes the falling rain would smooth the mud and no one would know he was near. He'd spend the night in the dark, with no fire and little moving, and catnap when he could. He'd done it before and could do it again.

His blankets were wool. The Wolf People raised sheep, both for food and wool, so he'd sleep warm, even if wet. All blankets and clothing were earth tones; the dyes used were from roots and berries. Clothing was a mixture of wool or skins, with wool worn during the wet and cold months, for warmth.
I need to eat now, before it gets dark, so I can still see,
he thought as he opened a jar, pulled out a piece of beef and ate it raw. Unlike pork or other meats, beef could be eaten raw without it making him sick. He knew pork would cause what the Wolf People called the worm disease, but previously, in days long past it was called trichinosis.

Beef was readily available to hunters because over the years, cattle had moved from fallen and broken fences to greener pastures and were now wild. Great herds moved together for protection, and in the fall the beasts were killed in large numbers, their meat dried. Once dried, the meat allowed them to survive the cold hungry months of winter.

All the animals that were once domesticated were now wild and could be found in the trees, on lakes and rivers, or on the plains. Chickens, cats, dogs, ducks, geese, and other animals were found, but not in the quantities of cows. The People ate all of them, but they preferred beef above all else.

Finishing his beef, he pulled out a cracker he'd found in his coat pocket earlier and nibbled on it.  They were hard, resembling hardtack that was once issued in the American army centuries ago, and they did not use yeast or salt. Most softened the crackers by first soaking them in meat broth or tea, which made them much easier to eat. On this night, he'd have no fire, thus no tea or broth, so he bit small chunks of cracker off and scanned the countryside out of habit. He was in no hurry and would stay awake until he grew tired, then he'd take a short nap.

It was just a few minutes later when he heard a voice, “Stop, I smell something.”

He grew tense, spat his cracker from his mouth, and made an arrow ready. The voice was close, sounding like it came from the trail, so it was likely the Eagle People checking their back trail.

“I smell nothing.” a second voice said from the light rain.

“It might be my imagination, but I smelled beef.”

A laugh sounded and then the second voice replied, “You're hungry, Lee, let us return. We have covered three miles and no one is behind us. I'm sure the man that escaped returned to his people.”

“I think you are right. Wait, I smell something again.”

“I smell it, too. It is coming from the east.”

Then, all talking ceased.

A knot formed in Calvin's stomach, because he knew they were coming for him. He wasn't scared of any man in an open battle, but at night, when he couldn't see, he grew frightened.
From what direction would they come? I heard two voices, but that doesn't mean only two men at looking for me,
he thought.

From behind him he heard a noise and when he glanced in that direction, a murky silhouette was running for him, a long knife in his right hand. Pulling back his bowstring, Calvin released it, heard his target scream and then watched as the man fell kicking and jerking.  

Another sound was heard in front of him. He turned but was too late, and he collided with a warrior. They struck the ground, where Calvin grabbed the man's right hand, which held a war ax, and around and around they rolled in the mud. Finally, he managed to buck the man from him, so he stood, pulled his knife and prepared for battle.

There must have only been two, or I'd be either dead or a captive by now,
he thought, and then concentrated on the warrior of the Eagle People in front of him. The warrior swung his war ax, and Calvin knew he had to avoid the big edged tool or he'd start losing body parts. Unlike a knife, an ax caused major damage when it struck home.

The Wolf warrior ducked under the blade and came up inside the swing. His knife blade struck two times and the man with the ax grunted as blood began to flow down his right arm. He dropped the heavy ax and pulled his skinning knife. The knife design was similar to an old Bowie knife, and razor sharp.

“You will die now, Eagle warrior!” Calvin said, his tone venomous.

“I think it is you who will die, Wolf warrior, and not I.”

Calvin made a wild leap and felt his knife enter the warrior's thigh, which brought a loud scream, and then the Wolf warrior felt a blade knife enter his side. He fell to the dirt, unable to lift his right arm and his knife landed in the mud, near his foot. He screamed in pain and his world slowly faded from gray to black. Calvin knew no more.

Chapter 3

AMON STOOD OVER THE FALLEN
form in the mud and knew he should simply cut the unconscious man's throat, but then had second thoughts.
He may know something about the guns, and we need what he knows. I will return him to Mongoose and let her do with him as she wishes,
he thought as he placed a hand on his bleeding thigh.  
I need to dress my wound and his, or we'll both bleed to death before we get back,
he thought, as blood seeped between his fingers.

After wrapping his injury, he went to Lee and found the man dead. The arrow had struck him in the center of the chest and in the lungs. He then returned to Calvin and bound his injury well, and tied his hands behind his back. Amon then took a horse and placed Lee belly down on the animal and secured him in place. Less than thirty minutes later, he had Calvin tied to his horse and was moving back up the trail.

His thigh ached, but he had nothing for the pain, so he clinched his teeth and continued riding.  His biggest concern wasn't pain, but infection. The Eagle People had alcohol and marihuana for pain, and once back in camp he'd have a few drinks. Alcohol they'd learned how to make from the books taken from the library, as well as information about using weed for medical purposes. Marihuana grew wild in Missouri, so they'd transplanted some at the village and it'd grown well. In the field, alcohol was the normal painkiller, because not many of The People smoked.

When he entered camp, the others approached from where they'd been hiding and Thomas asked, “Lee's dead, huh?”

“Arrow in the lungs. We did happen to find a warrior of the Wolf Clan, so I brought him back for Mongoose to talk with about the guns. The guns are the only reason he's still alive.”

“How badly are you hit?” Wilson asked as he neared.

“Bad enough. If you'll all see to Lee and the captive, I'm going to treat my injury.”

Wilson laughed and said, “I think not. Let me handle the doctoring and you do the pain, okay?”

Amon dismounted and almost fell on his ass because his leg collapsed, and if not for his horse, he'd have landed in the mud. “Pain's getting sharp now and I need a drink, or I'm going to pass out.”

“Help me get him to the fire” Wilson said, looking at Baker.

Each took a side and slipped his arms over their necks. They then walked him to the shelter and placed him on a blanket. Wilson placed a pot of water on to boil, pulled a quart jar of alcohol out and then poured a tin cup full for Amon.

“Drink this, and I'll give you another in a few minutes. First, I want to see how deep your wound is and consider my options. Your right arm is losing blood too; did you know that?”

“I remember, but the arm doesn't hurt like the leg.” Amon said, and then knocked the rest of his drink back.

“You keep drinking like that, and the lights will go out pretty quick. That's some strong shit you're throwing back like water.”

“I hurt, so passing out would be a blessing in many ways.”

“Looks like the blade went into the leg about three inches. I'll sew you together here, but the shaman might cauterize you later.”

Amon nodded, gave an alcohol induced grin, and said, “Give me another drink. I can't believe how bad that leg hurts.”

Shaking his head, Wilson replied, “This injury will hurt even more come morning. The leg will stiffen and you'll have a fever too.” He handed Amon another cup of whiskey.

“No matter; we have to return and tell Mongoose what we discovered at the village. If need be, tie me to my horse.”

Nodding, Wilson replied, “It will be done. Now, relax as much as you can, while I sew your injury closed. I will sew the two arm injuries as well.”

The thread used was old and most was gather up by unraveling cotton material from clothing made years ago or even ancient thin nylon fishing line or ropes. More than once, horse hair from the tail or mane was used.  Any thin, but strong, material could be used, as long as it would go through the eye of a needle.

When he sewed Amon up, Wilson admired the mans grit, because he knew the job hurt and all he heard from the man was an occasional moan or gasp.  A half an hour later, the job done, he poured another cup of the strong home brew and said, “Drink this and get some rest. The prisoner will be cared for by us. We'll leave an hour before first light.”