Crawling to the top of one of the wagons, Swift Hawk could see Kit Russell near the center of the commotion. So, too, could Swift Hawk discern Mr. Hudson, who was also there, though his children and mother stood toward the back of the crowd.
The curious yet frightening thing was that the crowd was centered around Angelia and Julian’s wagon.
Stealthily, Swift Hawk made his way back to the ground and sped toward the scene, trying his best to look beyond the few brightly colored sunbonnets and more numerous bobbing black hats. Still no one had noticed him. It gave him some advantage.
As he strode forward, he attempted to hear beyond the hum and barking of many uplifted voices. But it was no good. Though words were being shouted, Swift Hawk could not discern what was being said. He would have to go in closer.
Without warning, Red Fox was in front of him, and Swift Hawk knew a very happy moment. Without wasting time, Red Fox said, “It is your white friend. He is in trouble.”
“My white friend? Julian?” asked Swift Hawk.
Red Fox nodded.
“What is happening here?”
“There is a man who came here,” said Red Fox. “I call him Black Hat, for he wears a black hat, black boots and grows black hair above his upper lip.”
Swift Hawk frowned. Black hat, black boots, black mustache?
But Red Fox was continuing. “Black Hat has wounded our friend and has tied his hands. He is attempting to take him away from here. But the people who travel with this train are protesting this.”
And they were. Even now Swift Hawk could hear the raisedvoices of Kit Russell and Mr. Hudson.
“Do you know who this man is and where he is from?”
“I do not,” said Red Fox. “But he is a white man I have not seen with the train before today. He wears also a red shirt and buckskin breeches, like many mountain men that we have seen.”
Swift Hawk became deadly still. This was it.
It was the man from his vision. Swift Hawk knew it without even looking; he could feel it.
So this was the danger he had sensed. Here before him, at last, was Swift Hawk’s destiny. Here was his duty.
Show kindness, show mercy to the enemy. Give help.These were his guiding principles. But could he do this if the man was manhandling Julian?
He had no choice. But…
Swift Hawk needed more information. He would have to advance closer to the center of the argument to see if this man, Black Hat, were indeed the one from his vision. And if he was…
“My friend,” said Red Fox, “is something wrong?”
Swift Hawk nodded. “There may be a great deal wrong or a good deal that is right. But I am uncertain, and I cannot explain it now. Come, let us make our way through this crowd. I would see this thing for myself.”
“The man’s lying!”
Above the shouts, as well as the hum of the crowd, Julian’s voice could easily be heard. Sitting atop his mount, Julian was holding on to his shoulder. Blood dripped there.
“Wait! I can prove it,” came another voice, equally as loud. “If’n ye’ll let me show ye the writ. Got me here a writ a some kind or ’nother ’n’ a wanted poster from the good ole state o’ Mississippi. Somewhere, here in my pocket. This here man’s a murderer. Killed hisself a man. Got a woman pregnant, then left. It’s my job ta take him back fer a trial, but in my mind, he oughta be hung.”
It was the man from his vision.Swift Hawk immediately recognized him.
“He’s lying,” Julian cried out again. “I have committed no crime!”
Kit Russell stepped forward, and taking hold of the writ, scanned it. Glancing up at Julian, he could be heard to say, “Sorry, son. But the man’s within his authority. You’ll have to do as he says. It’s the law.”
Julian looked spooked. But all he uttered was, “He’ll hang me.”
Kit Russell shook his head. “It’s out of my hands.”
