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Wolf Hawk saw what had happened.
He watched the young woman trying so hard to dig through the hardened ground, but saw how little she succeeded. He knew that she must bury her father in order to mourn him properly. Wolf Hawk was a man of religion and understood how one must care for the dead. He could not allow her to suffer any longer.
He left his warriors and hurried inside the cabin to confront Tiny. “You are not a man, but instead a woman,” he said, his jaw tight. “A man would not make a woman do his work. Get out there. Dig. Prove that you are a man.”
Tiny could not help being afraid of the young chief, but there was nothing on this earth that would make him do the work he had said Mia must do.
It was true that her father was nothing to him. Why must he behave as though he cared by helping dig the grave? Tiny squared his shoulders and glared right back into Wolf Hawk’s midnight-dark eyes.
“You do not do as you are told?” Wolf Hawk said, leaning his face down into Tiny’s. “Must I force you? Do you wish to be humiliated more than you are already are? Shall I march you bodily out there to dig that grave?”
Tiny’s will bent a little under the wrath of the chief’s words, but he just would not let this red m
an coerce him.
And he needed time alone. He needed this time to make his escape through a back window. He was absolutely not going to be taken to the Indian village and possibly tortured for answers he did not have about those trappers.
He preferred to be stubborn now in the hope of finding a way to escape. He had heard the chief order his warriors to the front of the fort. This might be the opportunity he needed.
“I heard the woman call you a coward,” Wolf Hawk spat out. “You are worse than that. You are a nobody.”
Wolf Hawk walked away while Tiny glared at his back. As soon as he was alone, Tiny hurried to the back of the cabin, crawled through the window, then made a mad dash toward the fort’s rear walls. He was relieved to see that there was enough space between some of the boards to escape through.
He would find some place to hide until the Indians departed; then he would watch the river for someone to rescue him.
Breathing hard, he ran and ran, all the while glancing time and again over his shoulder, relieved when no one gave chase. He made his way into the thickest part of the trees, searching for a place to hide.
While Tiny was making his escape, Wolf Hawk was speaking to Mia.
“Come with me where the earth is softer,” Wolf Hawk said, gently taking the shovel from her.
Mia was stunned by his kindness, yet as she walked with him from the fort, she could not help feeling uncomfortable at his nearness.
He was a savage.
Her mother had been killed by a savage’s arrow.
Who was to say that this very Indian had not shot the arrow? Or perhaps one of his warriors had taken it upon himself to kill a white person as vengeance for the lives of the many red people whose lives had been taken by soldiers.
The more she thought of this possibility, the more she did not want this Indian to dig her father’s grave. It seemed sacrilegious, somehow.
Although she knew it would be almost impossible for her to dig a grave out of the hard, bonedry ground, she just could not let this man do it. She told herself he was nothing but a savage, even though she had been taken by his handsomeness and his recent kindness.
“You don’t need to dig my father’s grave,” Mia said, stepping up to Wolf Hawk. She reached a hand out toward him. “Give me the shovel. I need no man’s help, especially not the very Indian who is responsible for my father’s deadly heart attack.”
Wolf Hawk was stung by her words, yet struck by her courage. It could not be easy for her to come up to him and face him with such bitter words. She knew that he was a powerful chief in command of many warriors, yet she, tiny thing that she was, did not hesitate to stand up to him.
He understood that it was necessary for her to dig the grave herself, to honor her father. He was a man who admired courage in a woman, and especially a woman who had such respect and love for her father.
He handed the shovel to Mia. “I urge you to make the grave here, beneath these trees,” Wolf Hawk said.” It is a better place for your father’s eternal rest.”
Again stunned by his kindness, Mia stared at him for a moment. She realized that this was, indeed, the perfect place for her father’s eternal rest. Wolf Hawk had led her to a shady grove of maples and elms.
Although the earth there was not as hard as inside the fort’s walls, it was still difficult to dig into. But she would not break down and hand the shovel to Wolf Hawk. She was stubborn in that way…a trait her mother had deplored in Mia!
She did not look at him again as she struggled to dig the grave. Sweat dripped from her brow and wetted her dress. Her long auburn hair clung to her cheeks and brow.
She sighed heavily with relief when she felt the grave was deep enough to hold her father’s body. Her arms and back ached from the hard work.
