Swift Horse

“There has been a scuffle here,” Swift Horse said, seeing the large prints made by the moccasins that had been given to Abraham, and then saw prints made by someone other than the young brave. He could tell that Abraham had struggled with the one who came up on him while he was fishing, but had lost the struggle. His footprints led away with whoever had forced him to go with him.

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He started to follow the tracks, which included those of a horse, but stopped when he saw Sharp Nose riding toward him, barely able to sit in his saddle. He was slumped over, and slid slowly from side to side, his head hanging.

“Sharp Nose!” Swift Horse gasped out, then ran to him just as his friend fell from the horse.

The warrior fell onto his side on the ground, his eyes wild as Swift Horse stood over him staring at the arrow lodged in the right side of his back, blood streaming from it.

“It . . . was . . . One Eye . . . .” Sharp Nose gasped out as Swift Horse knelt beside him, stunned that Sharp Nose was even still alive.

“One . . . Eye . . . thought I was dead,” Sharp Nose managed to say in a whisper. He looked past his chief and saw his son, Four Leaves, running toward them, panic in his eyes to see his father downed in such a way.

Sharp Nose looked quickly at his chief again. “I watched as One Eye got the trunk and threw it from the cave, down into the water below the falls.” He reached a hand out for Swift Horse and grabbed him by a wrist. “A short while later, as I was coming this way, I . . . was . . . close enough to see One Eye leading Abraham . . . through the forest,” he said, his voice getting so low, Swift Horse could scarcely hear him now.

“He . . . they . . . did not see me.”

Swift Horse was grateful to realize that Marsha had ridden away, surely to get Bright Moon, in hopes of saving this proud warrior. Four Leaves knelt now beside his father, tears streaming from his eyes.

“You said that you saw him with Abraham?” Swift Horse asked, bringing Sharp Nose’s eyes back to him.

“One . . . Eye . . . was leading him into the forest at knifepoint, trailing his horse behind him,” Sharp Nose said, then closed his eyes and said nothing more.

“Ahte, Father!” Four Leaves cried, then looked pleadingly at Swift Horse. “Do . . . something. . . .”

Distress filled Swift Horse at thinking that he might lose a valiant warrior at the hands of so evil a man as One Eye.

“Sharp Nose, do not die,” Swift Horse said, his voice breaking. “Bright Moon will soon be here.” Just as he said that, Bright Moon came running toward them, his parfleche medicine bag in his right hand, his long gray hair trailing behind him.

“Is he in time?” Marsha asked as she ran up beside Swift Horse. She blanched when she saw the stillness of Sharp Nose and the fear in his son’s eyes. “No! Please don’t let him be dead.”

“He is barely breathing, but he had enough breath to tell me everything he saw. Abraham has been taken away by One Eye,” Swift Horse said, rising and making room for Bright Moon, who was quickly on his haunches beside Sharp Nose.

Marsha gasped and looked away as Bright Moon broke the arrow shaft in half and tossed it aside, the rest still lodged in the warrior’s back.

“He still lives,” Bright Moon said, then began his ritual of chanting as he applied medicines around the wound. “I need to take him home. I cannot do all that needs to be done here, away from the fire. I must heat instruments to remove the rest of the arrow.”

Instantly several warriors ran up, ready to assist. They picked Sharp Nose up and began carrying him toward the village, Bright Moon and Four Leaves walking with them.

Marsha and Swift Horse were alone now, gazing into the dark shadows of the forest where they knew Abraham had been taken.

“If he kills Abraham . . .” Swift Horse said from between clenched teeth, his hands tight fists at his sides. “If he does, the death will be on my hands, not One Eye’s, because I should have believed earlier that One Eye was the one guilty of the crimes you accused him of.”

He turned and gazed at his warriors as they took Sharp Nose on into the village. “His death, too,” he said, his voice breaking.

Marsha took him by a hand. “Do not do this to yourself,” she urged. “You wanted to believe in someone, and not just someone—a friend. I understand how you wouldn’t want to believe that he could do these things. He has been a friend for so long.”

“How could I have not seen the signs?” Swift Horse said, gazing down at Marsha.

“Because you did not want to,” she said, reaching a comforting hand to his cheek. “But now you must think of Abraham. His life is in danger.”

Edward James came running toward them, his eyes filled with fear. He waved frantically at them with both of his hands.

“What now?” Marsha said, seeing the fear in her brother’s eyes.

“It’s Soft Wind!” Edward James said, stopping when he reached them, breathless. “She left a short while ago with some other women to gather roots. It was such a beautiful morning, she was so eager to go. When I heard about Sharp Nose, and Abraham . . . I could not help but be concerned about the welfare of my wife and those women who are with her.”

A sharp panic entered Swift Horse’s heart. He turned and stared again into the forest, and then at Edward James. “How long have they been gone?” he asked.