Nate studied her. “Is that why you’re here? For Tyne and her sister and brothers?”
“And for Sully. He’s Peter’s brother, but he was as close Tome as if he were my own.” Agatha paused. “Sully always treated me nice. He was quite the backwoodsman, that one. Could live off the land if he had to. He knew all the wild creatures and their habits, and which plants were safe for people to eat.
He told me once that he learned from watching the animals. If a plant was safe for an animal, it was safe for us. Smart of him, don’t you think?”
Nate knew better, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Sully brought me venison from time to time, and we would sit and have wonderfully long talks.” Her lips pinched together. “It worries me that we haven’t heard from him.”
“Peter and Erleen should have come by themselves and left the children home with you.”
“We’re a family. My boys aside, when one of us is in trouble, we do what we can.”
“This isn’t the East.”
“Meaning we don’t know what we have let ourselves in for? But we’ve managed to get this far without mishap.”
“Have you forgotten the Blackfeet? That could have ended badly.” Nate sighed. “It is not the same here as back there. The animals are different. The plants are different. Life is different. Thing are not as tame. They call this the wilderness for a reason. It is wild and dangerous. And unless a person knows exactly what they are doing, their bones will be picked clean by buzzards.”
“My goodness. And I thought I had become a bit of a cynic.”
“I am telling you how it is.” Nate leaned over and touched her arm. “Be extra careful from now on. Keep watch over the children at all times. Once we are over the divide we are in unexplored country. We could run into anything. Anything at all.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Good.”
“Besides, I thought you said you have been here before. That hardly makes it unexplored.”
“I was through this area once, yes, years ago. A few other whites might have passed through, too. But it’s never been fully explored. It’s as wild as wild can be, and it can bury you.”
Aunt Aggie coughed and then smiled. “I am beginning to understand why Mr. Ryker speaks so highly of you. Your woman—what did you say her name was again, Winona?—is very fortunate to have you for her man.”
The far end of the pass drew near. The others were waiting. Erleen was saying something to Ryker and Ryker didn’t look happy.
“You said Winona is a Shoshone, correct?”
Nate nodded.
“Why did you marry her? Her being an Indian, and all.”
“I never expected a question like that from you.”
“No. Please. Don’t misconstrue. I don’t hate the red race just because they are red, like so many of our kind do.”
“I married Winona because I love her. Because I care for her with all my heart and all my soul. She is the zest in my veins and the spring in my step. You could say she is the very reason I breathe.”
“Oh my. That was practically poetical. I bet you have a work or two by Byron in that library of yours.”
Nate grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
The pass widened, and they were out of it. Below spread a spectacular panorama of peaks and valleys. Mountains so high, they plunged many of the valleys in near perpetual shadow. Mile after wild mile of country left largely untouched by the hand of man since the dawn of creation. The vast unknown, literal and true. Gazing out over it gave Nate King a rare ripple of goose bumps. He couldn’t say why but he felt a sudden unease.
“Your precious Sully couldn’t have picked a more godforsaken spot,” Ryker said to Peter and Erleen.
“He wanted somewhere where there was plenty of game,” Erleen said.
“His own Garden of Eden, as he liked to call it,” Peter added.
Ryker shifted in the saddle toward Nate. “Well, Blackfoot lover? You have been here and I haven’t. Which way? West? Southwest? Northwest? Where is that sandstone cliff Sully mentioned?”
“Southwest,” Nate said after some hesitation.
“Oh, hell. You don’t remember it all that well, do you? We could end up searching for a month of damn Sundays and not find the jackass.”
Erleen bristled. “Mr. Ryker! I will ask you for the final time to curb that cursing of yours. Must I constantly remind you there are children present?”
Ryker gestured at the spectacular sweep of majesty and mystery below the divide. “Lady, do you see that down there? Do you have any idea what we are in for? Because I promise you that before this is done, my cussing will be the least of your worries.”
Nate didn’t say anything. Ryker was right. It could be none of them would get out of there alive.
Horror
One lock was not enough.
Black Elk thought it would be. But after he held the wonderful yellow curls in his hand and felt how soft the hair was and marveled at how the sunlight turned the yellow to gold, he wasn’t content. He wanted more than one lock. He wanted the whole head, and the girl that went with the head.
The others listened to his appeal, but Black Elk could tell Mad Wolf was the only other one as eager to continue tracking the girl. Mad Wolf was always eager to kill whites. Mad Wolf was always eager to kill anything.
“I say we let them go,” Small Otter declared. “They gave you the hair you asked for. To kill them now would be bad medicine.”
“You see bad medicine in everything,” Black Elk said. “If a cloud passes in front of the sun, to you that is bad medicine.”
Mad Wolf and Double Walker smiled.
“And we will not make war on the women,” Black Elk went on. “We will not kill Golden Hair or the old one or the other two. Only the men, so we can take their guns and horses.”
Double Walker said, “And so you can take Golden Hair, as you call her, back to our village. What will Sparrowhawk and your other wives say? You have not asked them if they want to raise this white girl as their own.”
Black Elk grunted. He had four wives. Among the Blackfeet only a poor man had one wife. Warriors rich in horses and possessions had as many wives as they could support. The leader of their band had five. “They are my women. They will do as I say.”
Mad Wolf grinned and said to Double Walker, “He does not want Golden Hair for a daughter. He wants her for a fifth wife.”
“She looks young,” Double Walker said.
“I can wait a few winters.” Black Elk could wait for as long as need be to make her his wife. No one in his band, no one in the entire tribe, had a wife like her. Several warriors had white women in their lodges but none with hair so yellow. Hers was like the sun. She must be a favorite of the sun god, he thought. She would bring good medicine to his lodge and his people. And at night, under the blankets, he could run his fingers through her hair and—he grew warm at the imagining.
Small Otter was speaking. “There is another matter. This Grizzly Killer. His is a name we all have heard. He is white but he is Shoshone. It is said he has killed more of the silver tip bears than any man, white or red. It is said he has counted many coup.”
“Are you afraid?” Mad Wolf sneered.
For a moment Small Otter appeared ready to strike him. Instead he said, “If you truly think I am, we will set all our weapons aside except our knives and you can test my courage.”
It was Black Elk’s turn to grin. With a bow and arrow they were all about equal in skill. Mad Wolf was best with a lance. Double Walker, so big and so strong, was formidable with a war club. But with a knife Small Otter had no peer.
“Do not take me so seriously,” Mad Wolf said. “As for Grizzly Killer, yes, he has counted many coup. They say he has killed Sioux. He has killed our brothers, the Bloods and the Piegans. He has killed Black-feet. He is a great warrior.” His face lit with the passion that inspired him more than any other. “Think of our fame if we kill him.”