Savage Abandon
He leapt from his horse. He bent low over the animal, then grabbed his knife from its sheath.
Again, he looked directly into the animal’s eyes. “My friend, I will end your suffering,” he said, then did what he had to do, although thrusting the knife into the beautiful animal made him heartsick.
Ho, yes, he had taken the lives of many animals during the hunt. But he had never left any behind to suffer. His aim had always been accurate.
He turned and gazed up at his warriors, who were still on their horses, gazing down at him.
“Search diligently, my warriors, for any more animals that might be suffering like this one,” he said thickly. “Do as you must if you find any. Then gather up all the dead animals and bag them; also gather up all the traps you find. Make a travois to transport the traps. Take them to our village. Leave them near my lodge. I will destroy them so no one can ever use them again.”
They traveled onward, searching for more traps, but found none.
They did come upon something else, however…two abandoned horses.
“Two horses mean there are two men,” Wolf Hawk said, dismounting.
The horses were tethered beside a small stream where they could drink and where there was tall, fresh green grass for them to eat.
It was strange to Wolf Hawk that the trappers who owned these beautiful steeds could treat them so well but never stop to think about the suffering they brought other animals.
He stroked the brown mare first, and then the strawberry roan, as he looked from one horse to the other.
There were saddlebags on each.
He looked into one of them and saw clothing, some provisions, and a flask that had water in it.
It was obvious that these two horses had been left behind while those who owned them had fled the area on foot, no doubt after the discovery of the two dead braves.
He could envision the evil ones’ fear, even taste it, upon finding that they had caught more than animals in their traps. They had killed two boys and they knew that those boys had homes, and families who would seek to avenge their deaths.
“These horses belonged to the trappers,” Wolf Hawk said, stroking a thick mane. “But what puzzles me is why they would leave them behind? Where will they go without them?”
“Perhaps they will return for them,” one of his warriors said, edging closer to the strawberry roan.
He reached out and stroked its withers. “This is a fine steed,” he said. “It is muscular. It is beautiful. It is well fed and healthy. How could anyone abandon it?”
“Fear causes many misjudgments,” Wolf Hawk said. “The white men are running from their misdeeds. They must realize that the wrath of the Winnebago people will come down hard on them if they are found.”
“But why not flee on their horses?” another warrior asked. “Would not it be faster?”
“When you are filled with fear like these men must be feeling, logic is not a pure thing inside the heart and mind,” Wolf Hawk said bluntly. “They must have run instinctively upon their discovery. They are probably still running. Perhaps they were afraid to take the time to return for their horses. That is all I can make of their decision to abandon them.”
“It may be they will still return for them,” another warrior said.
“They forgot not only their horses in their haste to escape what they had done,” Wolf Hawk said as he stepped away from the animals. “They forgot that our people are fine trackers. I am one of the best. My warriors, all of you return home with the pelts and traps and these two horses, which are now ours. I shall search for the tracks of these two men. If I find their tracks, I will follow and discover where they have gone.”
He grabbed his horse’s reins and quickly mounted. “My warriors, when you arrive home with the traps and the pelts, leave the traps just outside my lodge,” he commanded. “Remove the pelts from the animals that have been found in the traps and give both the meat and the pelts to the mother of the two fallen youths.”
Each warrior gave a nod, then continued collecting the pelts, while others made a travois for the traps. When this was all done, the warriors all turned their steeds in the direction of their homes and
rode away.
Wolf Hawk rode back where he and his warriors had found the dead boys, and when he arrived there he leapt from his steed.
He held the reins as he looked for the tracks that had been made by the trappers, and when he found those leading away from the traps, he led his horse behind him as he walked slowly alongside the tracks. To his disappointment, they soon led him to the river. There they stopped. But he saw no white men anywhere.
He fell to a knee beside the river, examining the tracks more closely.
He was confused as to how the trail could go as far as the river and then disappear, for the men had arrived in Indian country on horses, not boats.