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"Ay-uh," Red Raven said, his eyes wavering. "Now our plans to search for Trapper Dan together cannot be. You will be gone, my friend."
Shane tensed, having for the moment forgotten the plans of friends. They had spoken often on the journey from Canada about how they would join forces and find the evil trapper. Now even that was being denied Shane because of Gray Falcon's command. Shane and Red Raven were being forced apart, their camaraderie a thing of the past.
From the moment he said farewell to his best friend, Shane would be forced to eat, sleep, and hunt alone. Though he would be shown where his true family resided, that did not mean that he would want to share the intimacies of his life with them as he had with Red Raven. The ultimate that could be shared between friends would be an enemy found and dealt with properly, and now this would never be.
Shane would have to search for Trapper Dan alone. But first he could not help but be curious about his true family and where they resided. He would accompany Red Raven and Flying Wing there, but he would choose for himself just when he would go and meet his brother and father face-to-face. Knowing that Trapper Dan was somewhere near lay too heavily on his heart to make plans to establish a whole new life for himself at this moment. His mother's death must be avenged, and soon!
"Yes, all of our plans must be forgotten," Shane finally said, resting a hand heavily on his friend's shoulder.
"Let us make the miles stretch out before us slowly, my friend," Red Raven said solemnly. "While we can, we shall cling to this world that we have shared for many moons."
"Yes, we shall travel slowly," Shane said, nodding. He lowered his hand from Red Raven's shoulder and looked down at Cedar Maid. Seeing her remorseful tears, he drew her into his arms and gave her a soft kiss on the brow, then turned away from her. He gathered together his buckskin bags which held his belongings. Reaching inside one of them, he made sure that the old chief's deck of cards was still there. How many times had they sat before a fire in the chief's great lodge, playing poker, smoking pipes, and drinking whiskey? The old chief had liked nothing better than his smoke, cards, and whiskey after having been introduced to them by a trapper who had come and spent many sleeps with them in the village. Shane had learned to enjoy these pastimes too and had accepted the old chief's cards as a remembrance as he had lain on his death bed.
Shane would guard the cards with his life. They were all that remained of the chief's devotion and friendship.
He slipped a fringed buckskin shirt over his
head and eyed the carved bow that he was so proud of having made himself. He set his jaw firmly, choosing not to take his bow, reminding himself of his vow to make a clean break with the Indians now that he was being banished from the tribe.
With an angry determination, he slipped his long Kentucky rifle into a leather gun boot at the side of his horse and sheathed a knife at his waist. He secured his bundles of belongings on his horse, then mounted.
Shane gave Cedar Maid a lingering stare. "Cedar Maid, I have to go now," he said thickly, vowing to himself that those were the last Chippewa words that he would ever speak. "Be happy."
He could not stand the despair in Cedar Maid's eyes any longer. He wheeled his horse around and rode away, feeling the same emptiness that he had felt the day his mother died. He already missed Cedar Maid almost as unbearably and he had not been gone from her for more than two heartbeats!
As Shane rode between the old brave and his best friend, he forced his thoughts from Cedar Maid. He was going to be starting a new life again. The first time he had been forced into such a change, he had wondered if he could learn to adjust to life among the Indians. Now, ironically, he was wondering if he could adjust to the white man's way of life. Could they adjust to him? He knew that prejudices existed and that if anyone realized that he had been raised among Indians, he might be looked down upon, as still a part of them.
He feared many a battle ahead, but surely most would be within his heart and mind!
His horse was a large, clean-limbed, very swift white stallion. He rode at a trot, occasionally broken by a short lope. Less than one sleep away, if he wished, he could be talking with his true father again. And what of his brother?
He frowned as he tried to recall his brother's name.
Josh?
Was it Josh?
Did his brother remember him? Or had he given up long ago on ever seeing Shane again?
Shane could not help but wonder how his brother would react when he discovered that his twin was still alive. Would he be pleased?
Or would he resent a brother who was in a true sense no brother at all?
Too many years divided them.
Perhaps it was best not to return at all!
Downcast, torn with indecision over what he should do, Shane rode onward.
Chapter Three
Shane dismounted in a grove of cottonwoods and willows and led the white stallion to the Rum River, which crept narrowly through the pine forest. Cascading water gurgled in little rills and spills through natural rock gates where minnows flashed in the red glow of the setting sun.
While his horse drank greedily, Shane sank to one knee, cupped his hands together, and lowered them into the river. H
e lifted his hands to his mouth and drank the water in slow gulps, feeling rather than seeing Red Raven come to stand beside him.
The time of parting was near. The farewell would be hard. At the age of eight winters, Red Raven and Shane had opened wounds on their arms with sharp knives to mingle their blood. In
