were gone. A breeze came and the river cane swayed all around. He heard water frogs in the distance and could smell the river. It felt good to be alone and so he lingered still. The sun was over the trees when at last he shouldered his saddlebags and took up the longrifle. He followed after the four stallions in the running walk of an Ota huntsman, hurrying to overtake the redsticks before they turned and came to find him.
HUNGRY CROW TOOK the redsticks even farther north through the canebrake, and then late in the day Kau saw where the riders had angled to the west. He discovered them waiting for him near the bank of the broad Conecuh. The sun was beginning to set.
“Do not make us stop for you again,” said Hungry Crow.
Kau kept quiet and prepared for the crossing. He wrapped his blanket around his longrifle, then passed the bundle up to Little
Horn with his saddlebags. The horses began to swim the warm river, and Kau splashed after them. He worked his hands around the coarse tail of Little Horn’s stallion and was towed past Blood Girl. She laughed in the failing light, and they were halfway across the river when Kau saw orange muzzle-flash appear on the hillside that rose up beyond the canebrake in front of them. There was a great sucking sound as Blood Girl fell backward from her horse into the river, and Kau reached for her but she sank and was gone.
Little Horn gave a warning and the remaining redsticks lay flat against the strained necks of their hard-swimming stallions. Kau tightened his grip on the horsetail, letting himself be pulled, and once they had reached the shore Hungry Crow led them all into the cover of the cane. Kau saw Morning Star begin slapping at the crown of his shaved head, and the prophet’s horse had ropes of drool hanging from its open mouth.
As the winded horses settled Kau looked out over the river. He saw Blood Girl’s stallion on the opposite bank. Twice the red horse started to swim the Conecuh and join them—but each time the stallion turned back until finally it quit altogether. The riderless horse melted into the forest, and Kau supposed that perhaps one day it would shake its Indian bridle, wander game trails and learn to forage, live a free and mustang life.
THEY WALKED THE three horses downstream through the canebrake, away from the shooter on the hill. It was night now, and the redsticks agreed that any further attack would come in the morning
or not at all. They dried their rifles, then each took a turn keeping watch while the others slept.
KAU HAD THE last guard, and at dawn he heard the screams of wood ducks leaving cypress roosts for hidden backwaters and sloughs. These were local birds, ducks somehow born without the instinct to migrate north in the spring. They darted across the chalk sky in twisting, drake-hen pairs.
He woke the others and they readied themselves. It began to rain, light at first but then much heavier. No sunrise raid came and the redsticks relaxed some. Hungry Crow tried asking Morning Star who was hunting them, but without Blood Girl the prophet was now silent and useless. Hungry Crow asked again but Morning Star turned away, walking off in the rain with his sick horse.
KAU VOLUNTEERED TO scout for the shooter. None of the redsticks objected and so he went off alone down a trail that ran along the edge of the canebrake. Here a hill of iron hardwoods rose up from the lowlands. He sat in the rain and watched. Soon three jake turkeys came working across the wet hillside, scratching for rising worms, and Kau waited until the last of them had vanished over the crest of the hill. The turkeys never spooked, and this satisfied him that the shooter was gone.
He left the muddy trail and began to cut for sign. Midway up the hill he found a plug of spent spit tobacco. He took it into his hands and watched the brown leaves break apart in the rain. The wind picked up and rainwater creeks formed in the furrows of the
hill. Suddenly there was
HUNGRY CROW TOOK the redsticks even farther north through the canebrake, and then late in the day Kau saw where the riders had angled to the west. He discovered them waiting for him near the bank of the broad Conecuh. The sun was beginning to set.
“Do not make us stop for you again,” said Hungry Crow.
Kau kept quiet and prepared for the crossing. He wrapped his blanket around his longrifle, then passed the bundle up to Little
Horn with his saddlebags. The horses began to swim the warm river, and Kau splashed after them. He worked his hands around the coarse tail of Little Horn’s stallion and was towed past Blood Girl. She laughed in the failing light, and they were halfway across the river when Kau saw orange muzzle-flash appear on the hillside that rose up beyond the canebrake in front of them. There was a great sucking sound as Blood Girl fell backward from her horse into the river, and Kau reached for her but she sank and was gone.
Little Horn gave a warning and the remaining redsticks lay flat against the strained necks of their hard-swimming stallions. Kau tightened his grip on the horsetail, letting himself be pulled, and once they had reached the shore Hungry Crow led them all into the cover of the cane. Kau saw Morning Star begin slapping at the crown of his shaved head, and the prophet’s horse had ropes of drool hanging from its open mouth.
As the winded horses settled Kau looked out over the river. He saw Blood Girl’s stallion on the opposite bank. Twice the red horse started to swim the Conecuh and join them—but each time the stallion turned back until finally it quit altogether. The riderless horse melted into the forest, and Kau supposed that perhaps one day it would shake its Indian bridle, wander game trails and learn to forage, live a free and mustang life.
THEY WALKED THE three horses downstream through the canebrake, away from the shooter on the hill. It was night now, and the redsticks agreed that any further attack would come in the morning
or not at all. They dried their rifles, then each took a turn keeping watch while the others slept.
KAU HAD THE last guard, and at dawn he heard the screams of wood ducks leaving cypress roosts for hidden backwaters and sloughs. These were local birds, ducks somehow born without the instinct to migrate north in the spring. They darted across the chalk sky in twisting, drake-hen pairs.
He woke the others and they readied themselves. It began to rain, light at first but then much heavier. No sunrise raid came and the redsticks relaxed some. Hungry Crow tried asking Morning Star who was hunting them, but without Blood Girl the prophet was now silent and useless. Hungry Crow asked again but Morning Star turned away, walking off in the rain with his sick horse.
KAU VOLUNTEERED TO scout for the shooter. None of the redsticks objected and so he went off alone down a trail that ran along the edge of the canebrake. Here a hill of iron hardwoods rose up from the lowlands. He sat in the rain and watched. Soon three jake turkeys came working across the wet hillside, scratching for rising worms, and Kau waited until the last of them had vanished over the crest of the hill. The turkeys never spooked, and this satisfied him that the shooter was gone.
He left the muddy trail and began to cut for sign. Midway up the hill he found a plug of spent spit tobacco. He took it into his hands and watched the brown leaves break apart in the rain. The wind picked up and rainwater creeks formed in the furrows of the
hill. Suddenly there was
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