Authors: Constance O'Banyon
When Farley was out of sight of the Blackfoot village, he pulled up his horse and dismounted. He then tied his mount and pack horse to a tree. He hadn’t survived among the Blackfoot for so many years without being crafty and cunning. He couldn’t just ride away and leave the James girl. He decided he would hide out in the vicinity, hoping for a chance to catch Joanna alone.
Farley knew if he was discovered it would mean his life, but he had to try and get that pretty little lady away from Windhawk.
Windhawk called his warriors together. They watched him expectantly, wondering what was on his mind.
“I have been told by the white man that Jo-anna’s little brother is a captive of Running Elk. I will go to the Piegan village and see if I can take him. I know that the Piegan is our brother, and we do not wish to go against a brother. That is why I will not ask any of you to go with me.”
“I will go with you, my chief,” Gray Fox spoke up. Soon many of the others also volunteered to go.
Windhawk held his hand up for silence. “I do not know if there will be bloodshed. I have known for a long time that Running Elk and I would one day meet on the field of battle. Perhaps that time has now come. I do not think he will easily give up Joanna’s little brother.”
They all agreed that they would accompany Windhawk. Not one among them liked the chief of the Piegans. It was well known that many of Running Elk’s own warriors did not think well of him.
“Do you tell Joanna that her brother still lives?” Gray Fox asked.
“No, let no one speak to her of this, for if I cannot free him, it will be as if she lost him a second time.”
“When do we leave?” one of the warriors asked.
“We leave as soon as you tell your families where we are going. Tell no one that we go to bring Joanna’s brother home,” Windhawk cautioned.
Joanna stared into space. She was hurt and resentful of the way Windhawk had treated her. When he had come into his mother’s tipi to explain to Joanna that he was going away for a few days, she had turned her back to him, not wanting to speak to him.
She now lay in the big empty lodge, feeling heartsick. Windhawk had been so overbearing, without considering her feelings at all. She wished that she had at least voiced her reasons for being angry with him before he rode away.
Joanna heard a scratching sound against the back of the tipi near where she was lying. She sat up, thinking it might be a wild animal. Easing herself off the buffalo robe she inched her way over to the lodgepole where one of Windhawk’s weapons hung. Grabbing a knife, she held her breath as the back of the tipi was split open. Joanna now knew it wasn’t a wild animal, and it couldn’t be a friend for he would come in the front way.
Staring down in complete bewilderment, she saw Farley crawl through the opening. He raised his finger to his lips to silence her.
“Ifen you want to be free, you best hurry up and come with me now,” he whispered.
Joanna was undecided. Hadn’t she wanted to escape? This might be her one and only chance to get away! Why did she hesitate? She thought of Windhawk; what would he do when he returned and found her gone? No, she must not think of him or she would weaken.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Farley,” she said, quickly making up her mind.
“Let’s us go out the way I came in,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her toward the slit he had cut in the back of the lodge.
The night was dark as Joanna and Farley made their way cautiously out of the Blackfoot village. Several of the dogs barked, but fortunately no one came out to investigate. Joanna held her breath, fearing at any moment she and Farley would be discovered.
As they reached the river, Farley led her downstream where he had hidden the horses.
When Joanna rode away into the night, she had to fight the impulse to turn around and go back. Her heart was heavy, but she knew she must not weaken. Hadn’t she always known in her heart that she and Windhawk would have only a short time together? Her worse regret was that she had been unable to tell him she was leaving. But had she done so, he would never have allowed her to go. She had taken the only recourse open to her by leaving with Farley. There could never have been a good-bye between them.
Hot tears scalded her eyes as they left the Blackfoot village behind.
Joanna and Farley rode hard and fast, long into the night. There was no joy in Joanna’s heart that she was now free. She knew when Windhawk discovered she was missing, he would come after her. She knew they would have to put a great distance
between them and the Blackfoot village before he returned and discovered she had escaped. She hoped he would be away from the village for a few more days. That would give her and Farley a good head start.
Tag huddled in the corner of Running Elk’s lodge. The sores on his back where the chief had beaten him had healed, but the hatred in his heart festered. He gazed across at Amanda, who was now only a shadow of her former self. She had lost weight and was little more than a walking skeleton. Her eyes were always downcast, and any time Running Elk approached her, she would cringe.
Tag stared at Running Elk with hatred in his eyes. He had learned enough about the Blackfoot by now to know that not all of them were like Running Elk. Sometimes Tag would see pity in the eyes of the women when they looked at him. Running Elk would be a scourge on any race he belonged to, just as Uncle Howard was, he thought bitterly.
Tag detected the sound of several horses being ridden into camp. He watched as Running Elk walked out of the tipi to see who the riders were. Tag heard Running Elk speaking to someone, and he hoped he would be gone long enough for him to sneak over to Amanda. The two of them had never been left alone before. Usually Running Elk’s wives were present when he left the tipi.
He made his way cautiously across the lodge, keeping a wary eye on the opening in case Running Elk should suddenly return. Amanda’s eyes went furtively to the doorway, fearful that she and Tag would be punished should they be seen talking to one another.
“Are you all right, Amanda?” he asked, taking her thin hand in his.
Her eyes were sorrowful. “I will never be all right again, Tag. I wish I could just die and get it over with.”
“Don’t say that, Amanda! Some way you and I are going to find a way to escape. I don’t know how just yet, but I’m waiting for the right moment.”
Amanda smiled sadly. “I don’t know what I would have done had you not been here; you give me cause to hope.”
The tipi flap was thrown aside and Running Elk entered. His dark eyes bored into Tag. In three strides, Running Elk was across the room and grabbed Tag by the scruff of the neck, dangling him in the air.
Tag closed his eyes waiting for the blow to fall, but it never came. He opened his eyes and saw Windhawk!
Windhawk had grabbed Running Elk’s arm, and the two men were staring into each other’s eyes.
“You dare come into my lodge and stay my hand!” Running Elk hissed.
Windhawk’s eyes traveled to Tag, and he frowned when he saw how thin Joanna’s brother was. “I have come for the boy,” he said in a deep voice.
Running Elk released his hold on Tag and faced Windhawk defiantly. Others had crowded into the chief’s tipi to see what was taking place.
“I have come for the boy,” Windhawk said again. “I am willing to pay for him, but if we cannot agree on a price, I shall take him anyway.”
Running Elk remembered only too well the other time Windhawk had forced him to back down in front of his warriors. Today would be different. Windhawk had come to his village with only a handful of warriors.
Running Elk was aware that many of his braves had become dissatisfied with his leadership lately. Perhaps if he were to slay the legendary Windhawk he would impress them with his power.
His eyes moved to the tall, powerful chief of the Bloods. No one had ever called Running Elk a coward; however, he knew there was no way he could ever beat Windhawk in a fair fight.
“You cannot come into a man’s lodge and say to him: ‘Give me what I want,’” Running Elk said.
Windhawk nodded in agreement. “This is true. I came prepared to give you twelve of my best horses for the boy.”
Running Elk’s eyes gleamed with greed. Twelve horses was a great price to pay for the scrawny boy, he thought. “I have become very attached to the boy and would not want to give him up.”
Windhawk looked at the scars on Tag’s back, and he knew that Running Elk merely wanted to haggle over the price; he could not care for the boy since he had beat him so severely. “Set your price for the boy, and I will meet it,” he said in an angered voice.
Running Elk looked at Windhawk suspiciously. “What is this white boy to you, that you would offer to purchase him at such a high price?”
“That is not your concern.”
Tag understood enough of the Blackfoot language by now to know that Windhawk was bargaining for him. He glanced at the tall chief of the Bloods and could read compassion in the eyes that looked back at him. He didn’t know why Windhawk had come to save him, but he hoped and prayed that he would succeed.
“Let us smoke the peace pipe and decide what is to be done with the boy,” Running Elk said, smiling.
Windhawk nodded and sat down cross-legged while Running Elk removed his medicine pipe from the leather pouch where he kept it. Windhawk motioned for his braves to wait outside, but two of Running Elk’s warriors remained behind.
Tag saw Running Elk nod to his braves, and he knew instinctively that the Piegan chief was signaling to them. Tag glanced quickly at Windhawk to see if he knew of the impending danger, but he seemed totally unaware that Running Elk was up to something.
The boy saw Running Elk’s hunting spear leaning against the lodgepole. He backed up cautiously until the weapon was within his reach.
Windhawk took the peace pipe Running Elk handed him and took a long drag. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the two Piegan warriors around behind him. He knew in
a flash that the chief was up to treachery. He started to stand up, but in that instant Running Elk made a dive for him while his two braves grabbed Windhawk from behind.
Windhawk’s muscles were straining from the effort he was making to free himself. Tag saw that Windhawk wouldn’t stand a chance against the three Indians, and he knew he had to help his friend, so he reached for the spear.
Running Elk gave Windhawk a satisfied smile. “At last I have you where I want you, Windhawk. Your people say that you are not mortal like the rest of us. Let us see if you will bleed when my knife pierces your heart.”
Windhawk struggled and almost gained his freedom, but one of the braves grabbed a leather strap and wound it around his neck. Windhawk fell back, turning red in the face. He tried to free himself, but each move he made, the man tightened the strap to cut off his breathing.
Windhawk watched as Running Elk drew his knife, feeling as helpless as a baby. “Today is the day you will walk with the spirits, Windhawk,” Running Elk said with a malignant grin. “If you are one of them, the spirits will welcome you.”
The hand that held the knife moved forward, and Windhawk heard a soft thud. He saw the look of surprise on Running Elk’s face as he fell forward with his own spear protruding from his back.
After Tag had thrown the spear, he raced across the room and threw his slight body against one of the other Indians.
The two Piegans had been staring at their dead chief, and that gave Windhawk time to free himself. He drew his knife and plunged it into the heart of one of the braves. He then pulled Tag off the other man and plunged his knife into him as well.
Grabbing Tag by the arm, Windhawk picked him up and carried him out of the tipi. By now many of the Indians had gathered in front of the chief’s lodge, wondering what had taken place inside.
Windhawk held up his hand to gain their attention. “People of the Piegans, your chief is dead along with two of your
braves. If there is any among you that will challenge me, let him step forward now.”
A hush moved over the crowd as the Piegans digested Windhawk’s words. They looked at each other for direction. One man stepped out of the crowd and began to speak. “I am Yellow Wing, and I will not challenge my brother until I know why this thing was done.”
“I was set upon by two of your braves while your chief offered me the pipe of peace.”
There were loud murmurings among the crowd, and Yellow Wing spoke again. “Running Elk has brought dishonor to his people by offering the peace pipe under false pretenses. The Bloods are our brothers; we will not challenge their chief.”
“I think it would be wise for you to hold a council meeting to select a new chief,” Windhawk said. “I would caution that you look deeper into the heart of the man you choose to lead you. Running Elk was not worthy of the mighty Piegans.”
“That is so,” Yellow Wing spoke up and was soon joined by a chorus of voices that agreed.
Windhawk looked down at Tag and drew him to his side. “I am taking this boy with me. Are there any who would challenge me for him?”
There was silence. No one dared challenge the mighty chief of the Bloods, for had he not just slain three men?
Tag pulled at Windhawk’s sleeve. “I can’t go with you if you don’t take Amanda. I won’t leave without her.”
“Who is this person you speak of?” Windhawk asked.
Tag dashed into the tipi. He found Amanda huddled against the wall staring at the three dead men. “Come on, Amanda! We are saved! Windhawk is taking us away with him.”
Amanda stared blankly at Tag. He took her hand and led her out of the tipi. “This is Amanda,” he told Windhawk, placing a protective arm about her waist.
Windhawk nodded. Gray Fox led the horses forward, and Windhawk placed Amanda and Tag on one of them. As they rode away from the Piegan village, Tag felt his heart lighten. Today he had taken a man’s life, and he wasn’t sorry. He had
fulfilled a promise he had made to his dead sister. Tag had no notion where they were going, or even why Windhawk had rescued him and Amanda, but it didn’t matter. He looked over at Windhawk and received an encouraging smile. Tag laughed out loud as he rode beside the man he admired most in the world.