Savage Arrow

“What do you want with me?” Reginald cried, beginning to wheeze almost uncontrollably. “Get out of here, you . . . you savages. You are on private property.”

“Property paid for by the silver that came from my people’s sacred cave. I believe that makes it our land, not yours,” Thunder Horse said, holding his bow and arrow steady, the arrow aimed for Reginald’s belly. “Get a rope from your stable. Bring it out to me.”

“Why?” Reginald asked, pale as a ghost as he stared slowly around at the many arrows aimed at him.

He gazed into Thunder Horse’s eyes again. “What did I do?” he gulped out.

“You know the answer without my saying it,” Thunder Horse replied, then nodded at Reginald. “You get the rope. Now!”

“What are you going to do with it?” Reginald asked, again wheezing hard. “Are you . . . going . . . to hang me?”

“No, nothing like that,” Thunder Horse said, smiling slowly at Reginald. “I have something better in mind.”

“You . . . do?” Reginald gulped out. “Oh, Lord. What?”

“Get . . . the . . . rope,” Thunder Horse said, his patience growing thin. “Now, wasichu.”

“What did you call me?” Reginald said, taking slow steps backward into the stable.

“White man,” Thunder Horse said, again smiling slowly. He dismounted. “Wasichu, bring me the rope.”

Reginald began sobbing. “I don’t want to,” he cried. “Please don’t make me.”

Thunder Horse nodded toward one of his warriors. “Get the rope for me,” he said.

He looked back at Reginald as the warrior went inside the stable and came out with a rope.

“Tie it around this man’s neck,” Thunder Horse ordered.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to hang me,” Reginald cried, his eyes wide behind his thick-lensed glasses.

“I am not going to hang you,” Thunder Horse said flatly.

Thunder Horse waited for the rope to be secured around Reginald’s neck, then took it when the warrior brought it to him. Thunder Horse slung his bow over his right shoulder and placed his arrow back inside his quiver. Then he took the end of the rope and tied it to the back part of his saddle, leaving a good length of it stretched out between Reginald and the horse.

Reginald was clawing at the rope as Thunder Horse mounted his steed. “It’s choking me,” he cried. “Please remove it.”

“Soon,” Thunder Horse said, slapping his reins against his steed and riding away from Reginald’s stable with his warriors following behind, leaving a space where Reginald was forced to walk.

“Where are you taking me and why?” Reginald screamed, still trying to pull the rope from around his neck, but not succeeding.

“You will soon see,” Thunder Horse said, moving slightly faster, so Reginald was forced to run behind him.

They rode onward and onward until the cave came into view where the two warriors still stood vigil. Jessie was standing and looking toward the sound of horses approaching.

“The cave!” Reginald cried. “Oh, Lord, please don’t take me to that cave!”

Thunder Horse only smiled slyly over his shoulder at Reginald, then rode onward until they finally stopped directly in front of the cave’s entrance.

Jessie’s eyes were wide when she saw Reginald tied behind the horse, with blood seeping from a raw wound on his neck where the tight rope had rubbed while Reginald was forced to run behind Thunder Horse’s steed.

When he saw her there, he gaped at her, then frowned. “You’ve turned into a savage squaw! How could you let savages do this to your very own blood kin?” he growled, crying out when Thunder Horse yanked hard on the rope to shut him up.

Thunder Horse dismounted, then went and stood beside Reginald. “You have been brought here for one final act of vengeance, and then you will never see me again,” he said sternly.

“Thank the Lord,” Reginald said as Thunder Horse untied the rope and yanked it away from Reginald.

Reginald wiped his sore neck. Then Thunder Horse’s words sank in.