sure to pay me back, otherwise you might just go the way of the Red Bear.’ Joel laughed, but John knew he wasn’t joking.
7
Chief Eskadi’s shoulders shook as the cart trundled and rocked along on the dry stoney ground, pulled along by the two horses. The body of Red Bear lay in the rear of the cart, the moon lighting up his still face, his eyes were closed and the body wrapped in a fresh, clean bison hide. Eskadi’s wife and daughter were sat huddled beside the chief as he drove, both with tears in their eyes mourning the loss of their son and brother. Eskadi’s demeanour was much different. His face was stern, focused, his teeth gritted, his jaw muscles clenched.
The man had taken his only son, his heir and the future chief of the settlement and now a new one would have to be chosen but there were none as good as his son had been and he would have only gotten better, smarter, stronger.
The man with the devils eyes had taken his son by surprise and killed him before he had even realised what was happening, before any of them knew what was happening. Nobody ever thought a white man would dare come into their place, on their land and take one of them down. Many men had come in the past, trying to make terms but this one had been different, he was reckless, fearless.
Soon, Eskadi thought, that look the white devil had in his eyes would be replaced by a different look altogether. By crossing Eskadi, the man had opened a door that could not be closed.
Eskadi had not had to think long about how he was going to handle the situation. From the moment his sons life-force had faded, the chief knew there was only one answer. Everyone had told him he was crazy to do it and they spoke of the legend surrounding the ground, but new legends needed to be forged and forge one he would.
The ground where he was taking his sons body was well known and feared amongst all of his kind. Growing up, Eskadi’s father had told him of the spoiled ground and the legend attached.
The story of what had happened was enough to keep any Apache from wanting to use the land. No one had wanted to be responsible for the horror and destruction using the rotten ground may cause and so it had remained, untouched for over a hundred years.
Finally, the Apaches arrived at their destination. Once the cart had come to stop, Chief Eskadi climbed down from his seat and walked around to the rear of the wooden cart. Following them had been a procession of soldiers wearing full face paint and headwear. They had stopped when Eskadi had and now the two men at the front of the procession ,one of whom was Zata, dismounted their horses to help Eskadi carry his sons body.
Zata spoke in the native tongue to the chief ‘Are you sure about this? They say the devil lies here, just waiting to take a human form.’
The chief did not look at the interpreter when he spoke. ‘It is the devil I wish to bring, I want the white men to pay. Killing them with the knife or arrow, taking their scalp, it’s not enough. The time has come to unleash evil upon those people.’
The interpreter regarded the man for a moment , ‘Your will is the will of the people. If however, you decide this is not the way you wish to go, then I will be happy to ride to their camp and kill the man responsible.’
Now the chief was looking at the interpreter. He placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know you would do that for me Zata, but this man is different, I saw it in his eyes. He has no soul and I cannot risk losing another to him. We will bury my son and he will seek his own revenge.’
At this, the interpreter nodded and then signalled to two of the other men to begin digging, they looked nervous, scared even, but they dug, for their chief they
7
Chief Eskadi’s shoulders shook as the cart trundled and rocked along on the dry stoney ground, pulled along by the two horses. The body of Red Bear lay in the rear of the cart, the moon lighting up his still face, his eyes were closed and the body wrapped in a fresh, clean bison hide. Eskadi’s wife and daughter were sat huddled beside the chief as he drove, both with tears in their eyes mourning the loss of their son and brother. Eskadi’s demeanour was much different. His face was stern, focused, his teeth gritted, his jaw muscles clenched.
The man had taken his only son, his heir and the future chief of the settlement and now a new one would have to be chosen but there were none as good as his son had been and he would have only gotten better, smarter, stronger.
The man with the devils eyes had taken his son by surprise and killed him before he had even realised what was happening, before any of them knew what was happening. Nobody ever thought a white man would dare come into their place, on their land and take one of them down. Many men had come in the past, trying to make terms but this one had been different, he was reckless, fearless.
Soon, Eskadi thought, that look the white devil had in his eyes would be replaced by a different look altogether. By crossing Eskadi, the man had opened a door that could not be closed.
Eskadi had not had to think long about how he was going to handle the situation. From the moment his sons life-force had faded, the chief knew there was only one answer. Everyone had told him he was crazy to do it and they spoke of the legend surrounding the ground, but new legends needed to be forged and forge one he would.
The ground where he was taking his sons body was well known and feared amongst all of his kind. Growing up, Eskadi’s father had told him of the spoiled ground and the legend attached.
The story of what had happened was enough to keep any Apache from wanting to use the land. No one had wanted to be responsible for the horror and destruction using the rotten ground may cause and so it had remained, untouched for over a hundred years.
Finally, the Apaches arrived at their destination. Once the cart had come to stop, Chief Eskadi climbed down from his seat and walked around to the rear of the wooden cart. Following them had been a procession of soldiers wearing full face paint and headwear. They had stopped when Eskadi had and now the two men at the front of the procession ,one of whom was Zata, dismounted their horses to help Eskadi carry his sons body.
Zata spoke in the native tongue to the chief ‘Are you sure about this? They say the devil lies here, just waiting to take a human form.’
The chief did not look at the interpreter when he spoke. ‘It is the devil I wish to bring, I want the white men to pay. Killing them with the knife or arrow, taking their scalp, it’s not enough. The time has come to unleash evil upon those people.’
The interpreter regarded the man for a moment , ‘Your will is the will of the people. If however, you decide this is not the way you wish to go, then I will be happy to ride to their camp and kill the man responsible.’
Now the chief was looking at the interpreter. He placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know you would do that for me Zata, but this man is different, I saw it in his eyes. He has no soul and I cannot risk losing another to him. We will bury my son and he will seek his own revenge.’
At this, the interpreter nodded and then signalled to two of the other men to begin digging, they looked nervous, scared even, but they dug, for their chief they
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