Wild Thunder

Frank edged his horse closer to Strong Wolf’s. “Yeah, even Injuns are fair game on the hunt, wouldn’t you say?” he said, chuckling.

Suddenly Strong Wolf’s bow was grabbed away from him and tossed to the ground, his arrow falling limply away from the string.

White Beaver, one of Strong Wolf’s most valiant braves, was knocked from his horse with the butt end of a rifle.

Strong Wolf watched helplessly as one of the white men placed a rope around one of Strong Wolf’s other braves, and dragged him from his steed.

Hate swelled inside Strong Wolf’s heart when the warrior was dragged behind a horse, gagging and grabbing at the rope around his throat, until he finally quit struggling and lay dead when the man finally stopped.

While the men became caught up in their fits of laughter, that gave Strong Wolf and his warriors the chance to finally defend themselves.

Strong Wolf leaned quickly over and grabbed his bow up from the ground, notched an arrow, and sent it through the heart of the man who went by the name of Frank.

Proud Heart and the others drew their rifles from their gun boots and killed two more assailants before the others got away in a frenzy on their horses.

Strong Wolf watched until the men were out of sight, then slid from his saddle.

He dropped his bow to the ground and ran to the warrior who lay in a heap, rope burns around his neck. He knelt down beside him and lay his head on his lap, tears of regret flooding his eyes.

“Son of Sky,” Strong Wolf said, caressing the dead man’s cheek. “You died so needlessly!”

Dazed, White Beaver moved to his feet. Proud Heart held onto him by an arm as they both went to Strong Wolf and stared down at their fallen brother.

Then Proud Heart looked at the dead white men, then into the distance, where the other white men had fled to safety.

“Strong Wolf, the white men are settlers who are not familiar with how things should be in the Kansas Territory?” he questioned, his voice hollow of feeling.

“No, that is not so,” Strong Wolf said, glaring at Proud Heart.

“You know them?” Proud Heart said, kneeling beside Strong Wolf, also gently touching the face of the beloved departed.

“We know them,” Strong Wolf mumbled. “Did you not see the brand on the rumps of the horses? As they rode away, I saw the brand! It is one familiar to us!”

“I did not take time to look,” Proud Heart said softly.

“I made the time,” Strong Wolf said bitterly. “As they rode away, the cowards they became under the fire of our weapons, I recognized the brand that is used by a rancher that sits not all that far from Chuck Kody’s ranch.”

“His name is?”

“Bryant. Jeremiah Bryant,” White Beaver said as he glared down at Son of Sky.

Proud Heart gasped. “I am familiar with the man,” he said, looking at White Beaver and then at Strong Wolf. “I have seen him while at the trading post.”

“And did he show resentment while you were near him?” Strong Wolf said, his eyes points of fire.

“Yes, I do remember feeling the coldness that came from him when we stood perhaps too close together while making trade,” Proud Heart said, nodding.

“I have also felt his resentment,” White Beaver added as he rubbed a contusion that was growing purple on his chest, where the rifle had struck him.

“He is our man,” Strong Wolf said, looking in the direction of Jeremiah Bryant’s ranch. “He is responsible for the death of our warrior.”

“But, Strong Wolf, he was not among those who did this,” Proud Heart said, eyes narrowing in thought.

“He whose men kill, condones the killing, not perhaps by giving the order to kill, but by having men under his employ who have the heart of killers,” Strong Wolf said bitterly. “He is no less guilty than if he himself had tied the rope around Son of Sky’s neck.”

“And what do we do about this atrocity against our people today?” White Beaver said, knowing Strong Wolf’s strong feelings for peace.

“Yes, what is your plan, Strong Wolf?” Proud Heart said, his eyes questioning Strong Wolf.