Page 61 of Savage Courage


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Shoshana’s heart beat loudly within her breast as she listened. And then she heard it again, this time more clearly.

She and Storm exchanged quick glances. “Yes, I too heard it,” he said.

He dismounted, grabbed his rifle from the gunboot, and lifted her from the horse.

After tethering its reins to a low tree limb, they moved stealthily, hand in hand, toward the spot where they had heard the second cry for help.

“We must be wary of the panther,” Storm said, his rifle held tightly at his left side, while Shoshana was at his right.

“Yes, the panther,” Shoshana said. “Storm, I’m so afraid!”

“I am with you, so do not fear anything,” Storm reassured her. “I will protect you from all harm.”

“But the panther could be stalking us even now, above us, watching our every move,” Shoshana said.

She glanced up at the ledges of the mountain. She was relieved when she didn’t see anything but lovely flowers and green growth.

Suddenly they heard the cry again, and this time so close, they knew that it was a man . . . a man in much pain.

“Please . . . help . . . me,” Mountain Jack pleaded as his eyes met Storm’s.

Shoshana’s knees almost buckled beneath her when she saw Mountain Jack. Not out of fear because he was alive after all, but out of horror at just how badly injured he was. His hair and whiskers were filled with dried blood.

She gulped and turned her eyes away. One of his arms had obviously been chewed on, while his bare chest revealed many deep, bloody claw marks.

His clothes were half torn off him, and what was still there was stained with blood.

But the worst of his injuries was to his legs. Shoshana did not want to even think of the pain he must be enduring with so many teeth wounds in his leg.

She did not see how he could still be alive after losing so much blood. But surely men as vile as Mountain Jack, without heart or conscience, did not die all that easily.

Storm gaped openly at Mountain Jack, deep revulsion filling his senses at the sight of his enemy. The knowledge that this man took scalps from any red man he could manage to corner made Storm look past his terrible injuries and see the killer he was.

“Please . . . please . . . get me away from here,” Mountain Jack pleaded, tears streaming from his eyes. “The panther might return at any moment. It . . . it . . . is keeping me as though I am some sort of toy. It injured me enough to make it impossible for me to escape. Please, oh, please have mercy.”

Storm’s jaw tightened. He swung his rifle up and aimed it at Mountain Jack. “When did you ever show mercy to any of my people?” he growled out.

Shoshana scarcely breathed as she waited to see what Storm was going to do. She understood his need for vengeance.

She sought her own, for she would never forget sweet Major Klein, and how heartlessly the scalp hunter had taken his scalp. Nor would she ever forget how he had taken her hostage, chaining her up and threatening her life.

This man was pure evil.

“Please don’t kill me,” Mountain Jack begged, reaching a bloody hand out toward Storm. “I’m sorry for what I did. Chief Storm, you are a man of peace, a man of good heart. Look past your need of vengeance and show me mercy!”

Storm’s eyes narrowed. His finger found the trigger of his rifle.

Chapter Twenty-five

Out of your whole life,

give but a moment.

—Robert Browning

The report of the rifle caused Shoshana to flinch and close her eyes.

She trembled as she turned her back to what must be a terrible sight.

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