Talking Bird most certainly had the power to do this. He could do all sorts of magical things that no one would ever believe.
But Wolf Hawk knew. And he understood, for Wolf Hawk was a part of the old Shaman’s magic.
Wolf Hawk decided to play a mind game with these two men before taking his final vengeance against them.
He acted as though he had no idea who they were.
“Why are you on this island?” Wolf Hawk asked, his eyes moving from one to the other.
It gave him much plea sure to see their fear. He wanted to laugh out loud at them, but if he did, they would know that they were definitely in the presence of their enemy.
Clint stood beside Jeb now. They exchanged nervous, troubled glances.
“We were on our way to St. Louis,” Clint said, his voice thin with fear, for something told him that this Indian was toying with him and Jeb. But he continued with his lie, fabricating it as he went along. He just hoped that he sounded convincing.
“Our…wives…went ahead of us,” he said. “They are waiting even now for us.”
Astute as he was, Wolf Hawk could always tell when someone was lying. As the man talked, his eyes had not rested, jerking from side to side. And both men were shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.
Ho, the man was lying and Wolf Hawk now knew for certain that these men had returned for the pelts that had been left hidden at the fort.
To pull these men more deeply into the game that Wolf Hawk was playing with them, he suddenly handed the rifle back to the man he had taken it from. It was safe to do this, for he knew that he was no longer alone with the men.
He felt the presence of Talking Bird behind him, hidden from the view of the two men. Talking Bird would not allow them to get the better of Wolf Hawk.
He saw the amazement in the man’s eyes as he took the rifle back from Wolf Hawk. Clint’s hand trembled as he took possession of the rifle, for he felt that something was very wrong. No Indian would trust a white man enough to hand him back the means to kill him.
Unless…
“The earthquake is over,” Wolf Hawk said, looking slowly from one man to the other. “The waters are calm. Go now. Go in peace.”
Clint and Jeb exchanged wary glances, not knowing what to believe.
“Are you serious?” Jeb asked, while Clint gave him a burning glance for asking such a foolish question.
“You can go,” Wolf Hawk repeated.
Clint gripped his rifle hard. “Thank you,” he said thickly.
He turned quickly, and with Jeb running beside him, they hurried to the boat. In a matter of minutes they had it out in the water and were quickly paddling back toward the fort.
Wolf Hawk smiled cunningly and allowed them time enough to get to the fort. Then he would prove to them how wrong they were to put trust in someone who despised the very ground they walked on.
He remembered the amulet hanging around the one man’s neck. He did not want to even think about the moment the man had taken it from Little Bull. It had been a sacrilegious thing to do, and that man would be the first to pay for his crime.
“White men, enjoy your last moments of life,” Wolf Hawk whispered to himself.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I’ll tell you how the sun rose—
A ribbon at a time.
—Dickinson
Wolf Hawk turned and smiled at Talking Bird. He hurried to him and gently embraced him, then stepped away.
“It is good to see that you came through the earthquakes so well,” Wolf Hawk said. He walked now beside his grandfather as they headed back to the old Shaman’s tepee. “Of course I knew that you would.”