The warrior who appeared to be hurt caught sight of her and yelled to the other one.
Waving her rifle, Evelyn yelled at the top of her lungs, “Friend! I’m a friend!” She did the same in Shoshone and in Crow.
The pair were flying. If they understood her, they gave no indication.
Evelyn knew she should stop, but she kept going. Call it stubbornness. Call it curiosity. She wanted to talk to them, by sign language if no other way. She was aware of Dega thundering behind her and the rest of the family strung out after him.
The warrior who was bent over his horse seemed to be clinging on for dear life. The other warrior swiveled at the hips and raised both arms as if in supplication.
Puzzled, Evelyn waved. She realized the second warrior was holding something.
“Stop!” Dega frantically yelled.
Evelyn never had liked being told what to do.
“You must stop!”
A sharp retort was on the tip of Evelyn’s tongue, but it died as it hit her exactly was the second warrior was doing. She glanced skyward and her skin crawled at the sight of a glittering shaft arcing out of the sky toward her.
“Evelyn!” Dega cried.
Evelyn had heartbeats in which to react. With a silent prayer she wrenched on the reins.
Chapter Five
Plenty Elk swiftly notched another arrow to his bowstring, but the young white woman drew rein when his arrow imbedded itself in the dirt near her horse. Those with her also stopped. He felt safe in lowering his bow and shoving the arrow back into his quiver.
He couldn’t believe it when he first saw them. Indians all in green! And a white woman! This was a day of unexpected events. First the scalp hunters; now these others.
Plenty Elk did not know what the woman’s intent was in giving chase. She might have been friendly, but she was well armed and he was not taking chances, not with his friend wounded. “Can you keep riding?”
“Yes.” Wolf’s Tooth gritted his teeth against the pain and tried not to think of all the blood he’d lost. He had been dizzy for a while, but the bout had passed. Now he was weak but not so weak that he couldn’t ride. “Who were those people?”
“Strangers.” Plenty Elk shouted to be heard above the pounding of hooves. “One of them was white.”
“Maybe they are with the scalp men.”
Plenty Elk doubted it. The scalp men would take the hair of any Indians they came across, including those in green.
“Is there sign of them?”
Plenty Elk scoured the prairie to the north. “No.” It puzzled him. He’d expected the scalp hunters to give determined chase.
The pair galloped on until their horses were lathered with sweat. A ribbon of cottonwoods along a narrow stream offered shade from the heat and water to clean Wolf’s Tooth’s wound. Plenty Elk cut a strip of buckskin from his friend’s shirt to bandage it.
“There. Do not use the arm much and in a moon you will be almost healed. The bullet went all the way through. You were fortunate.”
Wolf’s Tooth placed his good hand on his hurt shoulder and grunted. “I do not feel fortunate.”
Plenty Elk stepped to the stream. Kneeling, he washed his hands clean of the blood. “We must warn our people about the scalp men. We must warn our friends, the Cheyenne.”
“We must kill them.”
“When Tall Bull hears that his son is dead, he will raise a war party. He loved Short Bull very much.”
“I want to go with them. I want to see the scalp men die with my own eyes,” Wolf’s Tooth declared.
“You cannot fight with one arm.”
“I can use a knife. I can swing a tomahawk.”
Plenty Elk wiped his hands dry on the grass. He went to his horse, opened a parfleche, and brought over a bundle wrapped in badger fur. Opening it, he held out a piece of pemmican. “Eat. You must keep your strength up. It is a long ride to our village.”
“We should start back.”
Plenty Elk selected another piece and bit off the end. Chewing, he said, “There is no hurry. There is no sign of the scalp men, and you need to build up your strength.”
“I can ride.”
Bobbing his head at their horses, Plenty Elk said, “They need rest, too.” Both animals were hanging their heads in exhaustion.
Wolf’s Tooth put his hand to his brow and closed his eyes. “I still can hardly believe it. Short Bull and Right Hand, gone. They were our best friends. We played together when we were small.”
Plenty Elk couldn’t believe it, either. It had happened so fast. “We were fools to track those men. I tried to talk Short Bull out of it. You heard me argue with him.”
“He never listened to any words but his own.”
“Right Hand did not want to do it, either. He only went along because the rest of us did.”
“His woman will wail and cut herself.”
“And her, heavy with child,” Plenty Elk said glumly.
“She can go live with her parents. Or she can come to my lodge. I have always liked her.”
“You would raise the child as your own?”
“Right Hand was my friend.”
Plenty Elk stood. “I will take a look around.” He walked through the cottonwoods to the edge of the grass. To the north, nothing. To the west, nothing. He checked the south, too, with the same result.
“Well?” Wolf’s Tooth prompted upon his return.
“We are safe.”
“You do not sound certain.”
Plenty Elk squatted. He picked up a stick and poked at the dirt. “It was too easy.”
“What was?”
“The scalp hunters should have come after us. They didn’t. It worries me.”
Wolf’s Tooth leaned on his good arm and studied Plenty Elk. “You have always worried too much. When there is nothing to worry about, you worry about that.”
“You do not worry enough.”
“Did you see horses?”
“I told you. No one is after us.”
“No. Not now. When the scalp men tried to kill us. Did you see their horses anywhere?”
“I saw only the scalp men.”
“There is your answer. They had to run to their horses. We had too much of a start and they could not catch us.”
Plenty Elk would like to think it was that simple. “It would be easy for them to track us.”
Wolf’s Tooth forgot himself, and shrugged. Wincing, he said, “Tracking takes time.”
“It is daylight. Our tracks are fresh.”
“You forget. They were white men. Few whites are good trackers.”
“One of them had black skin,” Plenty Elk reminded him. “And I have heard there are whites who can track as good as anyone.”
“Worry they are tracking us if you want to.” Wolf’s Tooth eased onto his back and placed his arm over his eyes. “While you worry, I will rest. Wake me when the horses have recovered enough to head for our village.”
