Savage Flames - Page 8

As Wolf Dancer hurried onward with Joshua, he heard a rustling of the thick vegetation at his right side and soon saw the sentry who was posted there step quickly into view. The sentry, Blue Sky, stopped abruptly when he saw Wolf Dancer coming toward him with a black man hanging limply in his muscular arms.

“This man has half an arrow embedded deep in his left shoulder,” Wolf Dancer said, his voice drawn and tight. “I found him in a canoe, unconscious, floating in the river. I must get him to Shining Soul. Our shaman should be able to save his life.”

“Who do you think is responsible?” Blue Sky asked, keeping up with Wolf Dancer as he made his way to their village. “Do you think he was trying to escape from the plantation where he was a slave and was shot?”

Wolf Dancer gave Blue Sky a quick glance. “This man was not shot while trying to escape,” he said. “And the white men I have seen carry firearms, not bows and quivers of arrows.”

“Then who?” Blue Sky persisted as the huts came into view through the thick foliage.

“It was an arrow of Seminole design, but there is no one among our Seminole people who would have cause to shoot this man,” Wolf Dancer said. “And, anyhow, I know who did it. It was a whiteman trying to make it look as though a Seminole were responsible.”

“A slave owner?” Blue Sky prodded. “Was it a slave owner who attempted to kill his own slave?”

“Yes, and we must make certain that the wounded man defies the one who attempted to kill him, by living,” Wolf Dancer said. “Run on ahead, Blue Sky. Alert Shining Soul that I am bringing a wounded man to him. He must have his medicines ready.”

Blue Sky nodded, then ran quickly ahead of Wolf Dancer and was soon out of sight.

Wolf Dancer only hoped that he had found Joshua in time, and that he would live. He was also worried that the beautiful, golden-haired woman might be in as much danger as this black man and her husband had obviously been!

Although she, a white woman, should be nothing to Wolf Dancer, he could not help caring about her welfare. She was so petite and vulnerable, he couldn’t keep himself from being concerned about her.

When he finally reached the village, Wolf Dancer rushed into his shaman’s personal lodge without even announcing himself. It was the custom of his people to announce themselves outside someone’s personal lodge, never entering without permission. Privacy was cherished and honored by all who lived in his village.

But today things were different.

There was a need for haste. The injured man had already lost a lot of blood.

Shining Soul, a wrinkled, shrunken old man withkindly eyes, was dressed in a long robe with designs of the sky people on it, such as the rainbow, moon, sun, and stars. He had already prepared a pallet of furs for his patient.

Shining Soul even now gestured with a bony, long-fingered hand toward it.

“Place him there,” he said, closely studying Joshua’s face. He had never before been so close to a black man.

After Joshua was stretched out on the furs, Shining Soul knelt beside him. “Blue Sky did not tell me where you found this man, nor why he was shot with an arrow,” Shining Soul said. He tore Joshua’s shirt away from the wound, giving him a clear view of the injury.

Wolf Dancer went and knelt on the opposite side of the pelts from Shining Soul as the shaman gently pressed his fingers all around the puckered skin where the rest of the arrow was still lodged.

Wolf Dancer quickly told Shining Soul what he knew as the shaman skillfully opened the wound. With delicate fingers he removed the other half of the arrow from Joshua’s body, then quickly put a compress on the wound, which was again bleeding. “I believe that poison was placed on the tip of the arrowhead before it was shot into the man,” Shining Soul said as he stopped the bleeding and began applying various herbs to the wound. “That is why the black man sleeps so soundly. But I have applied medicine that will keep the poison from killing him. Under my care, he will be well soon.”

“Thank you,” Wolf Dancer said, sighing withrelief. “This is a kind man. He did not deserve the treatment he was given by the white man. We will make certain he never hurts this man again. I am going to ask Joshua, which is the wounded man’s name, to stay among us in our sanctuary. It will become his, too, if he agrees.”

“What of his family?” Shining Soul asked as he softly applied a white doeskin cloth to the wound.

“I know not of his family,” Wolf Dancer said, standing to leave. “When Joshua is ready, he will tell us.”

Wolf Dancer patted Shining Soul softly on his shoulder, then left the shaman’s lodge.

Wolf Dancer found most of his people outside, waiting to hear about the black man that had been brought among them.

Never holding anything back from his people, Wolf Dancer took his time explaining to them about what had happened, and that Joshua would possibly be staying to make his home among them.

Wolf Dancer trusted in his shaman so much that he was certain the man with black skin would not die. As he had so many times before, Shining Soul had worked his magic on the black man’s wound.

When everyone’s concerns had been alleviated, and his people had dispersed, Wolf Dancer went to his own home.

His personal lodge was different from all others of his village. Although it was built of many of the same materials, like palmetto thatch and cypress logs, his house was two stories high. On the upper floor was akind of porch that was open to the air and looked out over the village.

The balcony was a breezy, cool spot where he could watch the activity of his people.

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