Wild Thunder

Proud Heart sidled his horse closer to Strong Wolf as he stared at the corral at the far back of the ranch grounds. He watched several horses scamper about, whinnying. “Are the horses that carried the men today on their attack against us in that fence?” he whispered.

“Of that I am sure,” Strong Wolf whispered back harshly. “I have told everyone what to do. Now, let us see that it is done!”

He looked over his shoulder as several of his men lit torches. He nodded at others whose duties were to set the horses free, then he settled into his saddle and watched it all happen with Proud Heart and White Beaver leading the silent attack.

The horses were set free and scattered in all directions. The fences were knocked down and dragged away.

And then came the most triumphant moment of all, when the white men ran out of the bunkhouse, stumbling as they jerked on their breeches, shouting and cursing.

When Strong Wolf was certain that no more men were left in the bunkhouse, he gave a nod to his warriors who waited with their torches.

They smiled and nodded back at him, then rode off in a hard gallop toward the bunkhouse, the white men scattering and falling to the ground in the flurry of hoofbeats.

“It is as I suspected,” Strong Wolf whispered to himself. “In the white men’s haste to leave their quarters, they brought no weapons. The surprise visit by our warriors made them careless. As planned, it won’t be necessary to kill any of them. We have taken away their mode of transportation. We are now burning their lodges.”

He gazed over at the ranch house, and his smile faded when he saw Jeremiah Bryant step from his house with his wife close at his side. Jeremiah wore eyeglasses, and the fire reflected in their lenses.

“And now the debt is paid,” Strong Wolf said beneath his breath.

He then turned his eyes to his men and shouted for them to leave. His plans had been carried out without anyone being harmed. It was time to return home to the peaceful side of life again.

As they rode off, Strong Wolf looked one last time over his shoulder. He smiled victoriously as he watched the ranch hands scrambling around with their buckets of water, splashing them on the bunkhouse that was a blazing inferno.

Then he turned his eyes straight ahead again and rode tall and proud in his saddle. Yet he hoped that tonight would not have to be repeated. He hoped that the message would be loud and clear to those who chose to kill the Potawatomis, that the Potawatomis would not slink away and let it be done to them like cowardly puppies whose tails hang limply between their hind legs.

They headed back toward their village, then Strong Wolf saw something in the distance that made his heart skip a beat. He looked toward the heavens at the reflection of fire in the sky, making the black inky sky of night turn to crimson.

“Do you see it?” Proud Heart shouted over at Strong Wolf. “Fire! And not set by us! It is far from the one we have just left behind.”

“Let us go and see what is the cause!” Strong Wolf said, making a wide turn in the road, his men following.

Strong Wolf bent low over his horse as he followed the fire tracks in the sky, then when he drew close enough to see whose cabin was on fire, his heart sank and he felt ill inside.

“Claude Odum’s!” White Beaver shouted, gazing over at Strong Heart. “Someone has set Claude Odum’s cabin on fire!”

Not hearing anything, only feeling remorse, Strong Wolf broke away from the others and sent his powerful steed into a much harder gallop. His eyes never left the fiery inferno, knowing that if Claude Odum was inside the cabin, surely he could no longer be alive.

There was a small hope inside Strong Wolf’s heart when, as he got closer, he saw that the back side of the cabin, where the huge stone fireplace reached halfway across the wall, was not yet in flames. If Claude had crawled to that part of the room, just possibly he would be alive. And surely he would have tried to get there, for a door was there, an escape to freedom.

Strong Wolf wheeled his horse to a shimmying stop and dismounted, then ran toward the cabin.

Proud Heart ran after him, shouting. “No!” he cried. “Strong Wolf! No! Do not try it! Do not go inside that cabin!”

His ears deaf to everything, except the pounding of his heart in his eagerness to try and save Claude Odum, the gentle man that he was, Strong Wolf ran to the well behind the house.

He dropped the bucket that was attached to a rope down into the water, gathered water into the bucket, then cranked the bucket back up and grabbed it. So that his whole body would be soaked before entering the fiery inferno, he poured the water over his head.

He then grabbed a blanket from his horse and soaked it in the water, then placed it around his head and ran toward the cabin door.

Proud Heart came to him and tried to grab him by the arm, but Strong Wolf yanked it away. “Your people!” Proud Heart cried. “Think of your people! Should you die . . . !”

Strong Wolf heard those words, yet paid no heed. A friend of his people might be dying among flames! He had to save him!

When Strong Wolf yanked the door open, a great burst of smoke and flames reached out for him, giving him a taste of what it was like inside the cabin.

But not to be dissuaded, his heart thundering, he took a wary step inside, then stumbled over something.

The flames bright, the heat intense, Strong Wolf looked downward. His gut twisted when he saw Claude Odum stretched out on the floor, his clothes burned off his body, his skin scorched black.