But he had taken an awful chance by killing the deer and exposing the fact that he now had weapons. Hannah had tried to talk him out of doing it, telling him that she had seen captives killed for doing just what Jamie planned. But Jamie could not be dissuaded. He was determined to better his status with the tribe. The more freedom he could have, the better his chances would be for escape.
Just as soon as he knew exactly where he was, that is.
Jamie had thought of hiding clothes out in the woods, but he was growing so fast that when the time came the clothes would not fit him. He gave up that idea.
As sleep took him, he thought, one step closer. One step closer.
Jamie’s life changed drastically from that day on. He was permitted now to play games with the other boys and he quickly made friends with most of the boys his own age. And by listening to them talk, discovered that he was south of the Ohio River. South? If that was so, he was several hundred miles from where he’d been born.
But the faces of those in the village near his cabin had faded in his mind. He couldn’t even really remember what his best friend, Robert, looked like. He wondered if the Shawnee raiding party that night had killed Robert and his family, too? And how many others?
Jamie made up his mind. He would not attempt to return to the area where he used to live. What would be the point? He had no family left. He would listen to the older people of the tribe talk, and more importantly, warriors who had returned from recent raids, and try to find out where the nearest town was. He would listen carefully, and memorize any landmarks they might mention. He had to know for certain how to get to the Ohio River. For once there, he could make it to freedom. He just knew he could.
His days were busy ones now, for Tall Bull began his instructions on the art of being a Shawnee warrior. Jamie was very young for this harsh and uncompromising study, but Tall Bull puffed with pride when he was with the boy. How many men could say they had a son who, no more than a child, could kill a deer that weighed double the boy’s weight and drag it home? How many men could boast that their son had faced down wolves, and won? And Tall Bull also kept picking away at any scab that grew over the wound on Jamie’s chest so that a scar would remain forever.
“People will always want to see the scar where you battled wolves and won,” he told Jamie. “It is something to be proud of.”
Jamie had stopped trying to tell Tall Bull that he had received the slight wound quite by accident. The black wolf had been afraid of him and had lost its balance and fell over on his back. Kicking out with its legs, one paw had struck Jamie, ripping his shirt and scratching his flesh.
Jamie had yelled in pain and the wolves had become frightened and ran back about fifty yards. It was no major thing to Jamie. Actually, he’d felt sorry for the hungry animals, for it had been a hard winter. But he sure wasn’t going to argue with Tall Bull about it.
Jamie took to the bow as if he had been born to it. Tall Bull made him a much better bow than the one Jamie had made, and before the summer was over, he was the best shot in the Shawnee town, for his age group, and even better than some of the men, which did not set well at all with those warriors. Jamie could read the looks on their faces, but none vocalized their unhappiness. To do so would incur the wrath of Tall Bull, and none among them wanted that.
By the time Jamie was ten, he was very tall for his age and very strong. He could run and jump and wrestle with the best of the boys. As a hunter, he had no equal among his age group and even those several years older. He brought back to the lodge more than his share of game.
The hatred that Little Wolf felt for him had deepened, but only Little Wolf, his band of friends, and Jamie knew that. Inside the lodge, it was all brotherly love and good feelings. Deer Woman suspected that all was not wonderful, but she maintained her silence concerning her suspicions. Tall Bull did not have a clue. He knew only that he had two fine sons and he was proud of both of them.
By the time Jamie was eleven, he looked and behaved as a boy much older than his years. Even Little Wolf, who was about nineteen — no one knew for sure — was more than a little wary of the boy called Man Who Is Not Afraid. He and Bad Leg talked often, and secretly, of how best to get rid of Jamie, but so far it was all talk and no action.
Jamie and Hannah were doing some secret talking, too. A particularly cruel and quite ugly Shawnee had taken Hannah as his wife, and she was miserable.
“It’s time, Hannah,” Jamie told her as she worked one afternoon.
She paused only for a second, and then resumed her berry picking.
“You have a plan?”
“Yes. But it’s a dangerous one. We might be putting ourselves in more peril.”
“I have to get away from Big Head. I think he might kill me soon.”
“Meet me in the woods at noon tomorrow. By the blow-down. I have food and robes hidden there. Also a pistol I stole from the possessions of Sour Belly before they buried him. We’re escaping, Hannah. We’re going to be free.”
She cut her eyes to this boy — really just a child. But Jamie had left his childhood far behind him. He was serious, seldom smiling. Much more man than boy. And she felt sorry about that. For Jamie, the joys of being a child had been ripped cruelly from him, leaving a deep scar that nothing would ever erase.
“Jamie, you know what will happen to us if we are found.”
“We will be tortured to death. I know. I’ve seen it. We both have.”
“I’ll meet you in the blow-down at noon tomorrow. I would prefer death over my life as it is now.”
The boy called Man Who Is Not Afraid met her eyes for a moment. “I will not let them take you alive, Hannah. That is why I stole the pistol. I will kill you first.”
“I hope you mean that, Jamie.”
“I do.”
* * *
“I will bring back a buck for you, Mother,” Jamie told Deer Woman the next morning. “One that you can make me a fine shirt and leggings from.”
She looked at him and smiled.
“I shall go with you,” Little Wolf said.
“I need you here,” Deer Woman said quickly.
“Why?” Tall Bull demanded.
“To fix the panels on the smoke holes.” She pointed upward toward the ceiling.
Tall Bull grunted. “You were to have repaired them last week, Little Wolf. I am becoming weary of your laziness. Stay here at the lodge and do what your mother asks you to do. I must go to a council meeting. Good hunting, son,” he said to Jamie with a smile.
Little Wolf left moments after his father, grumbling and complaining.
Jamie picked up his bow, quiver of arrows, and secured his knife.
“Man Who Is Not Afraid?” Deer Woman said.
Jamie turned. He was now as tall as Deer Woman.
She put a hand to his face and touched him gently, then ruffled his dyed brown hair. “I knew this day would come. You are not Shawnee and never will be. Head south toward the tall mountains, to the Cherokees. They will see that you and Quiet Woman get back to your people. Do not reply to my words. Just go, my son. But go with this knowledge; someday Tall Bull and Little Wolf will find you. That will be the day when you must decide whether you live or die. And whether you will, or can, kill your father and brother. Goodbye, son.”