Sagebrush Read online

  “How will I know when ten days have passed?” Evening Star asked. “We do not mark the passing of days.”

  Michael drew a line in the sand and said, “Make a mark on the ground inside of your lodge each morning when the sun comes up. When the marks are the same as the fingers on both your hands, ten days will have passed. That is when I will meet you.”

  “I will bring my girlfriend with me, so I won’t have to travel alone.”

  “That is good. Come prepared to spend the night, so you and your friend won’t have to travel back in the dark.”

  White Bird was pleased to see them return. It was getting late, and she was getting worried. When she saw them returning with a full-grown turkey fully dressed, she hoped her daughter would get this young man as her mate. He would make a good provider. He is strong, and his strength would enable him to protect their lodge and defend their village from the marauding Comanche.

  After the evening meal, Michael bade them goodbye. They watched him walk into the forest just as the moon was rising.

  Evening Star wondered if she would ever see him again.

  The woods held no fear for Michael. He had given the chief his spear, so he cut a long pole and sharpened the end to use as a lance. If he needed to, he could climb a tree to avoid ground predators, or he could fend off a mountain lion with his sharp lance. As he walked through the dark woods, his mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.

  I made a vow to kill the men who killed my parents. When that is done, I have to fulfill Father’s obligation to Señor Diego and try to save the land for his granddaughter. To get to Santa Fe, I will follow the river my parents were planning to follow. I have no idea how far it is, or what dangers I might encounter, but I must try.

  * * *

  He got to his cave just as the early morning light was cascading across the pale-blue dome of a world that had changed forever. Evening Star had come into his life, and his life would never again be the same. There were others to think of now, and he had to consider their needs. What happened to him now mattered to someone other than himself. He felt responsible for the welfare of Evening Star and her mother, and they would forever be a part of his life. He went into his cave, fixed something to eat, and then lay down for a good sleep. Tomorrow, he would begin fashioning a knife for Evening Star. He had to get it done, and get it to her before he could go to find the Indians who killed his parents. At least, he knew a little more about the evil men he was hunting, and he had a better understanding of how they lived.

  He made the knife by using a spring that he took off the seat of the wagon. He fashioned a crude bellows from hides, then built a fire, using the hardest wood he could find. The fire had to be very hot. He increased the heat by using the bellows to blow air into it. Then he placed the spring into the fire and heated it superhot to take the spring out of the steel. He straightened it by using a hammer, and then tempered the steel so it could be sharpened. This is another thing he learned while working with his father in his shipbuilding business.

  Michael had to make another spear to replace the one he gave to the chief. This time, he made the blade a little longer to give it more cutting surface and then filed it to form a finely-honed blade. This spear was much better than his previous one.

  He wanted Evening Star's knife to have just the right weight so she could swing it with enough force to cut through a piece of wood. He made the knife strong enough to cut through wood but light enough for skinning animals and preparing their meat for food. When it was completed, it was twenty inches long and very sharp . . . it was a fine weapon, as well as an effective tool.

  With this knife—if she can prevent the chief from stealing it—she can gather all the food she and her mother will need.

  Michael wanted to make sure Evening Star would be well fed and able to care for herself until he returned.

  Some nights he could think of nothing but Evening Star. On the day they were to meet, he got to the bend of the river early. He didn’t want to take a chance of missing her.

  When Evening Star arrived, she and her girlfriend, Little Calf, had a young man with them. The young man’s name was Gray Elk. Gray Elk was nervous. He had heard of the wonders Michael could do with his ax and knife and was a little afraid of him. Gray Elk was likable, and it was obvious that he and Little Calf were in love.

  Michael couldn’t take his eyes off Evening Star. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. After the excitement of their meeting was over, he gave her the knife. She held it and looked at it with wonder. To her, it was a gift beyond words, but she had to express her appreciation somehow. With this tool, she would be the envy of the entire village. Michael took Gray Elk aside and told him that he would return to the village one day, and he wanted to see the knife still in the possession of Evening Star. No one must take it from her. He knew Gray Elk would spread that message, and he hoped it would prevent someone from taking the knife from Evening Star.

  Michael demonstrated the use of the knife. He threw it and stuck it into the trunk of a small tree. Then he removed the knife and, in a few strokes, chopped the tree down. After cautioning her about the danger of cutting herself, he gave the knife to Evening Star and showed her how to make a hooking pole to catch birds and another pole for threshing nuts. He cut another branch and showed her how to sharpen the end to fashion a spear. He had made a scabbard so she could carry the knife around her waist. She was pleased with the gift, but she was more interested in the giver.

  When they were returning to the village, Evening Star asked Gray Elk and Little Calf to walk on ahead. She wanted to be alone with Michael. She knew they had only a little time, and she wanted to treasure every moment. If she were to be given in marriage to a man she didn’t love, she wanted this moment with the man she did love.

  After her friends had gone on ahead, Michael asked Evening Star to spend the night with him. He wanted to show her his lodge and train her to use the knife. Evening Star ran ahead, caught her friends and asked them to continue on to the village without her.

  “Tell Mother not to worry,” she said. “I will be home tomorrow.”

  She ran back to Michael, happier than she had ever been. Michael took her hand and, while walking to his cave, he told her that she must never tell anyone of what he was going to show her. They might need the secret to save their lives. She made a solemn vow to never reveal what he would show her. He instructed her on how to enter and depart the cave without leaving footprints, and he explained that they must never leave a trace of having been there.

  Evening Star said, “The chief has had warriors searching for your lodge ever since you left. They couldn’t find it, and now I know why.”

  His cave fascinated her. It had everything that was needed for a comfortable lodge. She had never seen many of the things Michael had, such as an iron kettle or an iron pan. The crockery jars, the knives, forks, and spoons amazed her. He had so many things she had never seen or even knew existed. She was breathless. She imagined herself keeping this lodge for Michael as her husband. She would be proud to be his squaw.

  Michael told her to keep the knife dry, oil it often, and always keep it sharp and ready.

  He fried a rabbit and seasoned it with salt and served it with honey-sweetened fruit and nuts on a plate with a knife, fork, and spoon. She had never eaten fried food, nor had she ever tasted food seasoned with salt. Everything was so new to her that she was overwhelmed.

  After the meal, they sat on the rock ledge and watched the animals playing in the meadow until the sun set in a golden display of colors. The sky was an arch of iridescent blue with streams of pink, red, and gold. It was a scene of such beauty that only the power that created the universe could have arranged it. They listened to the night birds and watched the wind swaying the branches of the giant trees. They were in heaven as they sat holding one another.

  When darkness came, they went into the cave and bathed together in the waterfall. She was so beautiful that he was embarrassed by how
his body responded. They lay down on a soft bed of skins. Their appetite for one another was insatiable, and their lovemaking lasted long into the night. At last, in a wonderful feeling of exhaustion, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  They awoke, still in the embrace and made love again, and then bathed in the waterfall. They had a wonderful breakfast of broiled meat and caramel nuts, and drank cold water from the stream right by their breakfast table. After breakfast, Michael lit a torch and showed her the back of the cave. He told her that if she ever needed to hide, she could use the cave, but he cautioned her again to never tell anyone about what he had shown her. She reassured him that she would never divulge their secret.

  With a heavy heart, he told her he had to take her back to her village. She grabbed him and held him tight while she told him of her fear that he might not prevail against four seasoned fighting men. He assured her that he would use extreme caution, repeating that he had been preparing for six years, and he didn’t think he would fail.

  * * *

  It took all day to reach her village. When they arrived, they went directly to White Bird. She took one look and knew they were in love. In her heart she was glad. She embraced her daughter and held out her hand to Michael. He took her hand and looked into her eyes, and he knew he was seeing a mother’s love.

  Gray Elk and Little Calf came to the lodge. They, too, were worried until they saw the glowing faces of their friends, and then they were happy.

  Michael told them he must go. He took Evening Star in his arms once more and grasped the hands of the other three . . . . Indians almost never cry, but before he walked away, Evening Star clung to him, tears running down her cheeks. The parting was too painful. He turned and walked into the tree-covered valley again. The fading light confirmed the end of an event he would never forget.

  He was troubled. He had no way of knowing when he would see Evening Star again. If he survived his mission to slay the men who killed his mother and father, he would be going to Santa Fe.

  Destroying the four evil men would also avenge the deaths of Evening Star’s father and brother, and help to end the threat to her tribe. Michael vowed he would return some day. He said a silent prayer and asked God to keep Evening Star well and then hurried to his cave.

  After Michael left, Evening Star showed White Bird the knife. She was expecting her mother to be pleased, but instead, she gasped.

  “Surely you know the chief will never allow you to keep that weapon. Women are not allowed to carry weapons. Hide it! Don’t tell anyone you have it!”

  “Gray Elk and Little Calf already know. They saw it before they returned to the village. They were there when Michael gave it to me.”

  White Bird said, “Maybe they haven’t told anyone.”

  Evening Star asked, “Have you told anyone about the knife?”

  “Yes, I told some of the girls,” Little Calf said. “They wanted to know why you didn’t return with me and Gray Elk.”

  “I told some of my friends about the remarkable things Michael could do with the knife,” Gray Elk added.

  “This will bring trouble.” White Bird wrung her hands. “We must decide what to do. I know! You can give the knife to the chief!”

  “I can’t!” Evening Star replied. “This is a gift to me from Michael.”

  Gray Elk and Little Calf realized the seriousness of the situation and were also expressing concern. They heard a commotion outside and said, “The chief is coming!”

  The chief entered the lodge and demanded, “Let me see that knife!”

  Evening Star reluctantly handed him the knife. He examined it and demanded, “Give it to me! This weapon has strong medicine!”

  Evening Star tried to explain. “This is not a weapon; it’s a tool for gathering food.”

  “There is no stronger weapon in all the villages,” the angry chief replied. “A warrior could sever an enemy’s head in one stroke with this knife.”

  “It is not meant to be a weapon,” cried Evening Star. “It’s mine!” she said, holding the knife to her bosom.

  The chief couldn’t force her to give him the knife without losing face, and he couldn’t just take it from her. Other members of the tribe would criticize him. He turned and strode angrily from the lodge. He had to have that knife, and he would find a way to get it. She was his to give in marriage; therefore, when she married, her husband would own all her property. He would give her to the man who would give him the knife in trade.

  White Bird knew this was not the end of the disagreement, and she was worried. She didn’t know what the chief would do, but she knew he would do whatever it took to gain possession of the knife.

  “Evening Star,” White Bird said, “the chief must never find out that you made love to Michael. It would reduce the price men would be willing to pay for you, even with your great beauty.”

  Evening Star knew that she must take a husband soon; she was three summers past her first time of the moon. It was the duty of every woman to marry and bring warriors into the village. Their tribe was getting smaller and to keep the tribe strong they needed all the man-children the women could provide.

  When Evening Star told her mother of the mission Michael was on, White Bird’s despair was enormous.

  White Bird said, “There’s no hope that one man, regardless of how strong, could kill the four most seasoned warriors of the Comanche tribe. The Arapaho know these men well. ‘Scarface’ is the man who killed your father and your brother, and they were both great warriors. The man Michael called ‘Limpy’ is the man who held your father’s arm when Scarface plunged a knife into him. His limp is the result of a wound your father inflicted on him. ‘Three Fingers’ is the man who helped Scarface kill your brother. Then the one he called ‘Evil Face’ is the one we call ‘Black Cloud.’ Black Cloud is a mean and heartless killer. Michael won’t have a chance against these terrible men. Forget Michael,” White Bird cried, “and take your pick of the men bidding for your hand. That will settle the problem about the knife.”

  Evening Star explained, “Michael has great skills with his special weapons, and I believe he will prevail. I love Michael, and I am going to wait for him.”

  “Then he’d better hurry back to claim you. The chief won’t wait much longer.”

  Evening Star spent a restless night. Conflicting emotions flowed through her head. She thought of the wonderful night she had spent with Michael. She was worried about him going against such overwhelming odds. She thought about the knife and knew her mother was right about the chief forcing her to accept a husband. It was the chief’s right to give her in marriage to any man he chose, and she must do as the chief commanded. That had been the way of their people for as long as anyone could remember. It was a good way; it had kept the tribe strong. It was a woman’s duty to bear children and to keep her husband’s lodge, but the man she wanted was not the man the chief would choose for her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Search for His Enemies

  Michael spent the evening preparing for his journey. He used a length of fishing line to mark the path back through the tunnel to the opening at the top. He picked fresh sagebrush and wedged it into the opening and tied it to a rock inside of the cave, making sure it wouldn’t blow away and reveal his home.

  He wore the hide of the lion. His long, sand-colored hair and full-flowing beard made him look like a lion. It would be easy to remain obscure in the daylight, and almost impossible to see him at night. He would use the same methods of concealment the lions used when they lay in wait to pounce upon their prey. Michael’s feet were covered with double layers of buffalo hide—the inner layer had hair on the inside to protect his feet; and hair on the outside to give him better traction and help to conceal his tracks. He carried an extra pair of moccasins tied to his waist. Should he leave a track, only the most trained tracker would recognize the track as one left by a human.

  He carried his ax slung under his left arm and carried his father’s knife at his waist.
With his father’s knife, he would settle the score by taking the life of the man who had killed him. He would use the ax to kill the man who had killed his mother with an ax. A deep anger welled in his heart when he remembered how his mother and father had been wantonly slain.

  He carried a canteen of water, and enough smoke-dried meat to last for days.

  * * *

  He left his cave while it was still dark and walked to the place where he had seen the Indians plundering the last wagon, and then continued southbound, in the direction they had gone. For hours, he traveled south across rolling grassland. He crossed creeks and gullies lined with trees and continued steadily southbound until, just as night was coming, he came to a river. The river was shallow. The water was only about thirty feet across, but it had a wide bed of fine, yellow sand.

  Crossing that sand without leaving tracks would require all the skill he had. He decided to sleep hidden in the trees and cross the stream in the daylight.

  He was hungry, but he didn’t dare use his reserve, so he gathered berries and nuts. He couldn’t build a fire because Indians could smell fire for miles. He wrapped himself in his buffalo robe and went to sleep in a thicket beside the stream. The night was dark, and he heard animals all around him. He knew that the smell of the lion’s skin would keep predators away, so he slept soundly.

  The sun breaking the horizon reflected light off the clouds bathing everything in gold. He followed the river for several miles looking for a place to cross.

  By the river, he found a collection of bones that he couldn’t recognize. He knew the bones of every kind of animal he had ever seen, but these bones were different. They were human bones, too small to be the bones of a man, yet they were mature, so they had to be the bones of a woman.

  He had hunted for his mother, but he hadn’t found her. There was a good chance that she had been dragged to this spot, and this was where she died. How she had died he dared not think. He wasn’t sure that these were his mother’s remains, but he had a strange feeling that they were. He carried the bones to a lovely spot near a giant oak tree and buried them. Then he planted sunflowers; their golden color matched his mother’s hair. He sat remembering his mother and how much he had lost when the Indians took her from him. His resolve became even deeper, and he was more committed to settling with the evil men who had done this great wrong.