Savage Dawn

Chapter One

Utah, 1850

A soft wind fluttered the closed entrance flap of the tepee as Chief Eagle Wolf sat beside his lodge fire on a warm autumn day. He had just made a terrible decision, one that he must now carry out to ensure the safety of his Navaho people.

Already, his Owl Clan had lost too many of its members. Only a few winters ago, his mother and father had been killed in a skirmish with the U.S. Cavalry. They had died as the Navaho fled the bluecoats who were trying to force them onto a reservation.

Many of their friends had died that day, as well, killed by the soldiers who brought death and destruction to Chief Eagle Wolf’s beloved people.

What had remained of their Owl Clan had followed Eagle Wolf to this mountain stronghold, where they had found a safe haven in a deep, hidden canyon. From that time on, Eagle Wolf had taken leadership of his people, as his father had led them before his untimely death.

Eagle Wolf’s midnight-dark eyes filled with deep sadness as he stared into the dancing flames of the fire, remembering all that had happened to his people because of the white eyes. So much of it was hogay-gahn, bad.

When Eagle Wolf and his people had finally reached safety on this mountain, and had established their homes there, many of the Owl Clan had died from a disease white men had carried to Navaho land, an illness known to everyone as…smallpox.

Eagle Wolf had buried his wife, as well as many of his friends. And today he had discovered the same ugly spots on his own body.

To keep from exposing his people further to the disease that he now carried, Eagle Wolf had decided to flee the village. He would go off by himself, someplace where he could either die from the disease, or recover and then return to his people to resume his role as their chief.

His people had approved of his decision to temporarily turn the duties of chief over to his brother Spirit Wolf, who had seen five winters fewer than his own twenty-five. His brother understood that if Eagle Wolf came out of this situation alive, he would once more take on the title of chief.

Realizing that he had taken enough time pondering what had been, what was, and what might be, Eagle Wolf stood up and faced the closed entrance flap. Just beyond it, his brother stood awaiting Eagle Wolf’s moment of departure.

Dressed in only a breechclout and moccasins, Eagle Wolf spoke through the buckskin covering of the entrance flap.

“My brother, it is time now for me to leave,” he said sadly. His sculpted, copper face showed only a few of the dreaded spots, yet there were enough to make him realize that soon his whole body might be covered with the pox.

His muscled shoulders tightened as he bent low and picked up a leather sheath, in which lay his sharp knife. He attached this at the right side of his waist.

Then he gazed at his quiver of arrows, remembering the hours he had spent making them. His eyes turned to his large bow, and he was filled with remembrances of sitting beside his lodge fire with his father while Eagle Wolf carved designs of forest animals into the wood.

Those were precious, revered memories that would stay with him even into his old age, if the Great Spirit granted him the blessing of long life.

But for now, it seemed doubtful that he would survive this terrible disease. He had prayed to the Great Spirit that he would live and still have the capacity to lead his people and keep them safe from white eyes and anyone else who might prove to be their enemy.

“My brother, I will slit my lodge covering down the back and leave that way so that I will not come near you. I do not wish to expose you to this illness that faces our people like a coiled snake, ready to strike first one and then another,” Eagle Wolf said thickly. “I will set fire to my lodge and burn it along with everything within it. No one must come in contact with my possessions, which may carry the disease on them. All that I will take from my lodge is a parfleche bag of supplies, my trusted bow and arrows, my rifle, and my knife. I will go far enough away so that none of our people will be exposed to this disease.”

“My brother, I will watch over our people in your absence,

” Spirit Wolf replied solemnly. “I will pray for you. So will all of our people. Surely our prayers will bring you back to us, well and ready to be a part of our lives once again. Then we will be ka-bike-hozhoni-bi—happy evermore.”

“What is planned in the beginning, even before we have taken our first breaths of life, will be,” Eagle Wolf said, removing his knife from its sheath and slowly running its sharp edge down the buckskin fabric of his lodge. “If it is in the Great Spirit’s plan that I will return to our people, so shall I return. If not, and I should die, I will go to meet those who have departed before me. I trust you, my brother, to make sure our people thrive in my absence. Most of all, keep them safe from any white eyes who might venture up our mountain.”

“I shall do all that is expected of me,” Spirit Wolf called, for he knew now that Eagle Wolf was no longer in his tepee, but instead at the back. He could smell the smoke as his brother set fire to the buckskin covering. “My brother, be safe. Be well!”

“Spirit Wolf, my body is only a shell,” Eagle Wolf replied as he stepped away from the burning lodge, his bow slung over his left shoulder, his knife secured again in its sheath. His rifle was in its gun boot at the side of his white stallion, which he had tied behind his lodge. “Should I die, my spirit will survive and live on.”

All went quiet, except for the popping and crackling of the fire as everything inside the tepee was consumed by flames.

He was filled with a keen sadness that all his belongings except for what he carried in his parfleche bag were going up in flames. Most of all, he hated to lose those things that had belonged to his dear wife, Precious Stone.

Feeling the heat of the flames on his face, Eagle Wolf watched for a moment longer, then turned and ran to his horse.

No, he had not enjoyed seeing the tepee and its contents going up in flames, but he knew that if he survived, he would return and build another one just as strong and large. He would then begin to accumulate personal belongings and wealth all over again.

The stench of his burning lodge followed him as Eagle Wolf mounted his white stallion and rode away from the canyon where he had brought his people to safety.

His eyes were bloodshot and aching. The spots on his face itched, especially now that the smoke had irritated them.

He felt suddenly sick to his stomach and he knew by touching his fiery brow that he had a raging temperature.

But he could not stop to rest until he was far enough away from his people so that they would be safe from the disease he carried in his body.

He must make his way far down the mountain pass, as far from his people as he could get. And once he found a safe place to stop, he must center his thoughts on getting well. He knew that his people needed and depended on him. His brother was a strong warrior and loved by their Owl Clan, too, but it was Eagle Wolf who had been taught the skills of leadership by his chieftain father.

Eagle Wolf’s father had begun teaching him as soon as Eagle Wolf could retain the lessons in his mind and heart.

He vividly remembered the many hours he had spent with his father, listening with pride and love to the words of the wise Navaho chief. Eagle Wolf was taught in the same way his father was counseled by his own chieftain father.

Missing his father so much, Eagle Wolf was even more determined to get well and resume his role as chief; his father would not want it to be any other way.

Eagle Wolf was a man who did not cry easily, but at this moment he could feel the heat of tears in his eyes as he remembered his father.