Savage Tempest

“It is time to go,” High Hawk said, looking over his shoulder at his brother, who lay on a travois. In Sleeping Wolf’s eyes was a deep sorrow at leaving behind the only home he’d ever known.

High Hawk was swamped with guilt at the knowledge that he was, in part, responsible for this flight into the mountains. Yet he knew he was not truly to blame. He had avenged his father’s death. He could not have done anything less. Nor would any of his people. And he could not stand by while white soldiers plotted the deaths of his people.

Because they had aligned themselves with the white devil, they, too, had had to die.

The procession was long and quiet as the Pawnee began their long journey.

Joylynn had spotted her binoculars in one of High Hawk’s bags. Knowing that a close watch must be kept for pursuing soldiers, she had taken the binoculars and hung the leather strap around the pommel of the saddle on her horse.

She wanted to do everything in her power to help keep these people safe!

CHAPTER TWENTY

Still feeling useless and more dispirited than ever before in his life, Sleeping Wolf lay on the travois, glancing over and over again at the steep drop-off at his left side.

Today as the journey contined, once again the Pawnee were traveling along a narrow mountain pass. Everyone was quiet and alert, for one wrong slip of a horse’s hoof and someone’s life could be lost as he or she went tumbling down the mountain.

Sleeping Wolf knew that the warrior who rode the horse to which Sleeping Wolf’s travois was attached held his reins firm and steady. His eyes were kept straight ahead as he watched the trail for dangerous spots.

As always since the journey to their new home had begun, Sleeping Wolf was on a travois pulled by the very last horse in the procession. He had requested this position, saying he enjoyed the scenery better if he didn’t have to be between other travois and packhorses.

But he was not enjoying anything except the eagles that occasionally soared in wide circles above him. He felt more and more in the way, especially knowing that he was slowing his people down since he could not ride a horse.

The long days on the travois gave him too much time to think about the worthlessness of his life. There was nothing positive he could add to the lives of his people.

Instead, he needed someone to look after him all the time. His mother, upon whom most of the burden fell, had surely grown tired of her nuisance of a son, but worked hard to cover up those feelings by overprotecting him.

No, he could not hunt to supply meat for his mother’s cook pots. . . .

He suddenly saw a soaring gathering of bald eagles above him, their huge, widespread wings casting massive shadows onto him. One by one the mammoth birds came close, then circled back.

Suddenly he had a strong desire to join them!

They seemed to be beckoning him!

“I am coming,” he whispered as he watched them soar now below him, beside the mountain, instead of high in the sky.

They would sweep up close to the side of the mountain, then fly again further away from it. He could feel their eyes on him when they came closer.

He knew that they wanted him to be a part of their flight today!

His heart pounding, he gazed up at the warrior on his horse before Sleeping Wolf’s travois. He was ignoring the eagles, instead still carefully watching where he was traveling.

Ho, everyone was too intent on navigating this narrow pass to notice Sleeping Wolf. He gazed at the birds again as they soared above him, and then again swept down lower to fly alongside the mountain.

With a peaceful, serene smile on his face, feeling triumphant for the first time in his life, Sleeping Wolf threw off his blankets. At last, he was actually doing something that he wanted to do, and without the help of his mother, shaman or chieftain brother. As quietly as possible, he rolled gently off the travois and immediately found himself tumbling down a steep incline, then falling free, like the eagles he had been watching. They were flying and soaring above and then beside him, their eyes ever watching him.

He was an eagle . . . flying!

He could not walk without much effort, but he could fly effortlessly!

He smiled as he continued to fall, his long black hair blowing away from his shoulders, his face feeling the soft sweetness of the air, his heart filled with joy, for he was now free . . . free . . . free!

When he finally came to an outcropping of rock, he hit it with a hard thud, dying immediately with a smile on his lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Having finally cleared the dangerous path he and his people had been riding on, High Hawk sighed deeply. He was relieved that there had been no mishaps. Now there was more earth than rock on their right side, and they could travel more safely. High Hawk’s first thoughts were of his brother. He had not been able to check on him for some time because everyone had to ride in single file. High Hawk was at the head of the procession, Sleeping Wolf at the tail.