Savage Illusions

Kirk stop­ped in mid-step, his eyes wild. "Jole­na," he whis­pe­red, his thro­at so sud­denly dry he co­uld scar­cely bre­at­he. "Jole­na…"

Chapter Thirteen

Spotted Eag­le had just ar­ri­ved at the cam­p­si­te when he saw Two Rid­ges en­ter the fo­rest. When Spot­ted Eag­le dis­mo­un­ted and dis­co­ve­red that ne­it­her Jole­na nor Kirk we­re among tho­se bus­ying them­sel­ves aro­und the fi­re he con­c­lu­ded that per­haps Two Rid­ges was fol­lo­wing Jole­na and her brot­her to pro­tect them whi­le they ex­p­lo­red.

Spotted Eag­le re­cal­led the cliff ne­arby and his he­art skip­ped a be­at. Qu­ickly se­cu­ring his re­ins, he glan­ced to­ward the fo­rest aga­in, whe­re he had last se­en Two Rid­ges.

Then, wit­ho­ut sa­ying an­y­t­hing to an­y­body, he bro­ke in­to a hard run. He felt slightly re­li­eved when he fi­nal­ly re­ac­hed the slo­pe of land that wo­uld le­ad him up to the cliff. Jole­na was now­he­re in sight. Nor was her brot­her, or Two Rid­ges. Per­haps they had go­ne anot­her way.

Suddenly an eag­le ro­se in­to the air with a sna­ke which so­on drop­ped from its claws and es­ca­ped. Spot­ted Eag­le felt that was a bad omen. The lo­we­ring sun, too, was pa­in­ted with sun dog­sa su­re war­ning that dan­ger was ne­ar!

Then a mind-shat­te­ring scre­am sud­denly pi­er­ced the air, star­t­ling Spot­ted Eag­le.

His in­si­des grew cold when he he­ard Kirk sho­uting Jole­na's na­me.

"Hai- yah!" Spot­ted Eag­le cri­ed in des­pa­ir, kno­wing what had hap­pe­ned.

His wo­man!

Just as he had fe­ared, she was in dan­ger!

She might even now be de­ad, for he had he­ard but only her one scre­am and the sho­ut of her brot­her.

Now ever­y­t­hing was too qu­i­et!

Almost blin­ded with fe­ar, Spot­ted Eag­le ra­ced up the hill. When he re­ac­hed the sum­mit, his eyes shif­ted from Kirk to Two Rid­ges, who we­re stan­ding, mo­ti­on­less, the­ir eyes wi­de as they pe­ered over the si­des of the cliff.

Spotted Eag­le's he­art se­emed to plum­met to his fe­et, af­ra­id now to lo­ok over the cliff, fe­aring that he wo­uld see not­hing but the crash of the wa­ter­fall and the whir­l­po­ols be­low. If his wo­man had fal­len in­to the ri­ver, she wo­uld not sur­vi­ve the fall, much less the po­wer­ful sur­ges of the wa­ter.

His jaw tight, his thro­at dry, Spot­ted Eag­le rus­hed to the ed­ge of the cliff, ro­ughly ed­ging him­self bet­we­en Two Rid­ges and Kirk. When he ga­zed dow­n­ward, si­lently pra­ying to the fi­res of the sun that his wo­man had so­me­how li­ved thro­ugh the fall, he gas­ped at what he saw.

" Wo- ka-hit, lis­ten to my ple­as," he pra­yed des­pe­ra­tely to the fi­res of the sun. "Do not let my wo­man die."

He lo­oked qu­ickly up at the sky, from which he tho­ught he he­ard a vo­ice say, " A-wah-heh­ta­ke co­ura­ge, my son." Then he fell to his kne­es and ga­zed wild-eyed down at his wo­man, who was only mo­ments away from de­ath's do­or.

"Jolena?" he sa­id as he sta­red dis­be­li­evingly down at her whe­re she clung des­pe­ra­tely to a hu­ge, man­g­led ro­ot of a tree that had grown out of the rock at the si­des of the cliff.

"Save me," Jole­na whis­pe­red. "Oh, Lord, Spot­ted Eag­le, I can't… last much lon­ger. My fin­gers. I… fe­el them we­ake­ning!"

Spotted Eag­le flat­te­ned his sto­mach aga­inst the rock be­ne­ath him and sco­oted out as far as he co­uld over the led­ge wit­ho­ut pla­cing him­self in dan­ger of top­pling over. He had to gi­ve his body eno­ugh le­ve­ra­ge so that it co­uld to­le­ra­te Jole­na's we­ight, as well as his own, on­ce he grab­bed her hands to pull her up to sa­fety.

He knew that he sho­uld ask the as­sis­tan­ce of Two Rid­ges and Kirk, but they had al­re­ady pro­ved the­ir co­war­di­ce too of­ten to be ab­le to de­pend on them for an­y­t­hing.

They had just sto­od the­re wat­c­hing when they co­uld ha­ve be­en wor­king to­get­her to sa­ve her!

But now was not the ti­me to con­demn. Now was not the ti­me to con­f­ront Kirk with his sus­pi­ci­on that he was the one who had pa­id Whi­te Mo­le to co­me to Spot­ted Eag­le with li­es abo­ut an ailing fat­her!

It was the ti­me to sa­ve his wo­man's li­fe.

If she slip­ped away from him to her de­ath, he felt as tho­ugh he just might fol­low her.

Without her, he wo­uld be only half a man!

"Grab my hands, one at a ti­me!" Spot­ted Eag­le sho­uted, sco­oting out a lit­tle far­t­her, as far as he pos­sibly co­uld, and re­ac­hing his hands out for Jole­na.

"One… at… a… ti­me, Jole­na," he ca­uti­oned aga­in.

Her he­art po­un­ding and dizzy from fe­ar, Jole­na to­ok a de­ep bre­ath, then qu­ickly re­ac­hed one hand up, re­li­ef rus­hing thro­ugh her when Spot­ted Eag­le grab­bed her aro­und the wrist.