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“Where could they have gone?” he whispered to himself, angry at this turn of events.
He hated to think that those men might never be found and made to pay for their crimes. But they seemed to have sprouted wings, as Wolf Hawk did in his hawk form, for how else could white men just disappear into thin air?
He gazed at the darkness that now lay thick around him. The moon became visible as clouds slid away from it.
Darkness had fallen so quickly, it seemed as though a dark cloak now clung to Wolf Hawk.
He hated the fact that he would have to return home and tell the mother of the fallen youths that their murderer had gotten away and would surely never be found.
That meant vengeance might never be achieved for Eagle Bear and Little Bull!
Disgruntled, Wolf Hawk mounted his steed and rode back in the direction of his home.
He knew where he must go. Back to Shadow Island, to seek advice from Talking Bird, who held wisdom concerning all things.
Wolf Hawk just couldn’t believe that he would never find the trappers. He must! He could not give up.
Surely the trappers would return to hunt again. The rich furs that could be had in this forest were too tempting to ignore.
Ho, they would surely feel that it was safe again later and would make the mistake of returning to the land where they had spilled Winnebago blood.
Chapter Eight
I am coming, I come,
By meadow and stile and wood.
Oh, lighten into my eyes and heart,
Into my heart and my blood!
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The moon lit a huge hawk as it soared over the Rush River, soon disappearing among the wolf willows on Shadow Island.
The transformation was quick, and Wolf Hawk then sprinted, on foot, to Talking Bird’s lodge. He stopped just outside the entrance flap to again think through the events of the day and his role in them.
This was the first time he felt a weakness in himself, for two young braves had died needlessly under his leadership. Wolf Hawk felt as though he should have been able to avoid such tragedy if he had listened more closely to the warnings of his intuition.
He looked heavenward and spread his arms up and out toward the dark sky. “Earthmaker above, how did this happen under my leadership?” he whispered, believing that his sorrowful, troubled words, would reach the stars.
Then he lowered his arms to his sides, turned and faced the closed flap, and softly spoke Talking Bird’s name.
“Come,” Talking Bird said, his words reaching through the buckskin fabric of the flap.
Wolf Hawk held the flap aside and stepped inside, where his grandfather was again sitting beside his lodge fire, a blanket wrapped around his bent old shoulders.
Talking Bird looked up at Wolf Hawk. “I heard the wings of the hawk above my lodge as you came through the wolf willows,” he said. “I knew that you would soon be here. It is late, my grandson. What brings you to your grandfather with such concern in your eyes?”
He gestured with a hand toward Wolf Hawk. “Come and sit beside me,” he said thickly. “Tell your grandfather everything as you have done since you were a child. It is my plea sure to listen and offer you comfort.”
Wolf Hawk sat down beside Talking Bird. “Grandfather, when I was here before, talking things over with you, do you recall my telling you about an uneasiness that I was feeling?” he began, looking into the dark depths of his grandfather’s eyes.
“Ho, I recall your concerns,” Talking Bird said, nodding. “I thought I gave you comfort with my words. Tell me why you are still so troubled. Why do you come again so soon?”
“I come to tell you that I have wronged my people, especially the mother of two fallen sons,” Wolf Hawk said, slowly moving his eyes to the fire. His memories of seeing those two young braves caught in the traps were almost too hard to bear.
“Tell me more,” Talking Bird said. He reached from beneath his blanket and placed a comforting hand on his grandson’s bare knee. “Talk and your pain shall be lifted from your heart. I will take the pain into my own if it will help dispell the guilt that I hear heavy in your words. You speak of two fallen sons. How were they downed? By whom?”
