Read Online Follow the Wind by Don Coldsmith - Free Book Online

consciousness. These were the leather-tent people of Sanchez’s stories.
    Another thought occurred to the young lieutenant as the
party started down the rocky hillside. He waited until they reached easier terrain in the meadow, then caught the attention of one of the savages who was riding near him. He indicated a wish to converse in the sign talk and the other nodded.
    â€œHow are your people called?” gestured Cabeza, by way of conversation.
    The warrior reached down and lifted the heavy war club dangling below his waist. He cheerfully held it out for the inspection of the other.
    â€œOur enemies call us the Head Splitters.”

12
    That night, under cover of darkness, in an area a few days’ travel away, three men and a woman gathered in the dense timber along a stream. It was hardly more than a long bow shot from their village.
    Most of the People slept, but for these, the meeting must be of utmost importance.
    â€œWhere are they now?” asked Coyote.
    The messenger was stripping the saddle pad and rawhide war bridle from his tired horse. He turned the animal loose and gave a parting slap on its flank, the hair stiff from drying sweat. They had covered much distance this day. He stepped over to squat on the ground and the others did likewise.
    â€œThey met the Head Splitters today. They stay tonight with them on Walnut Creek, maybe two sleeps from here.”
    The others nodded.
    â€œWhich way do they go?” asked Big Footed Woman.
    â€œNorth. They should not find us at all.”
    Again, they all nodded with satisfaction.
    â€œIt was good, White Buffalo, that we moved as we did.”

    The medicine man accepted the compliment in silence, no less pleased. It had been his suggestion, when the rumor of a party of Hair-faces on the plains had first been heard.
    The People had become affluent and successful under the leadership of a young outsider. He had, in the few short seasons with them, helped to change their way of living. He brought the horse and, with the improved methods of hunting buffalo, the People prospered. The children were fat and the women were happy. There were jokes that the Moon of Hunger, in late winter, needed a new name, for there was now food in plenty.
    In addition, the People had, for the first time, successfully defended themselves in battle against the traditional enemies, the Head Splitters. This success had increased their pride as well as their prestige.
    And then, the leader of the Southern band of the People had been killed in battle. The young warriors had rallied around their young leader, the hair-faced outsider who had instructed them in the skills of the horse and lance. He had married into the tribe and it was with pride that the People claimed Heads Off as one of their own and chief of the Southern band, now called the Elk-dog band.
    It was still a source of amusement, the way their chief had received his name. The scouts of the People had found him, injured and lost, on the prairie. As the stranger sat up and removed his helmet, it had appeared to the onlookers, unfamiliar with that sort of headgear, that he had removed his head. It was Coyote, little dreaming that the stranger would be his son-in-law, who had dubbed him Heads Off.
    Now, a few years later, all the advances of the People were threatened. According to rumors spread from one tribe to another, a column of the hair-faced ones was marching again from the south. Their purpose was unknown.
    Fortunately, the scout who first heard of the matter from the Growers had become uneasy about the story. He had reported to Coyote, rather than to his chief.
    â€œWhat does this mean, uncle?” The young man used the term of respect for any adult male of the People.
    â€œI do not know, Standing Bird, but we must be very careful.
Come, we will talk to White Buffalo.” Surely, the medicine man would have words of wisdom.
    They found the old man relaxing on his willow back rest in front of his