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“But…our…horses.”
“You’ve got to accept that we’ve lost ’em somewheres in this damnable forest,” Clint said sourly. “We’ve lost our way. I ain’t even sure we can find the river quick enough so that the Injuns won’t find us and hang us.”
With only their rifles in their hands, they started running from the gory scene. Then Jeb stopped and turned to look again at the dead braves.
“Whatcha think you’re doin’?” Clint growled out. “Come on. We don’t have time to mess around.”
Jeb ignored him.
He ran back to the fallen braves.
He knelt, reached out and yanked an amulet necklace from around one of their necks.
He chuckled as he placed the fancy, beaded thong around his own neck.
“Put it back,” Clint said as he came up and slapped Jeb across the back of his head. “Take it off. Throw the thing away if you ain’t going to put it back around the Injun’s neck again. It can only bring us trouble…bad luck.”
Jeb turned and glared at Clint. “Don’tcha ever hit me again, or you’ll not live to regret it,” he snarled.
“Your threats don’t frighten me, Jeb. Now do as I say. Put that amulet back on that Injun, or throw it away,” Clint demanded, his eyes glaring angrily into Jeb’s.
“Stupid, I’m keepin’ it,” Jeb said, putting a hand protectively over the amulet to keep Clint from grabbing it from him. “Don’tcha know, amulets are worn for good luck.”
“Stupid, did you see the good luck it brought the savage that wore it today?” Clint asked, laughing sarcastically. “He’s dead, Jeb. Damn dead.”
Jeb ignored Clint.
He started running again, and Clint soon caught up with him.
They ran and ran, until they were both too breathless to take another step, and then they saw the river up ahead through a break in the trees.
“See?” Jeb said, smiling at Clint. “The amulet’s already brought us good luck. We found the river.”
“Yep, but we lost two horses and maybe a stack of pelts, too, and I call that bad luck, Jeb,” Clint said breathlessly. All the same, he was relieved to see the shine of water up ahead.
They would go and hide by the river until night fell; then they would travel alongside the river until they found a moored boat that had tied up for the night, so that its occupants could get some sleep on shore.
When the travelers awakened the next morning, their boat would be gone and so would Jeb and Clint. They would be out of range of the Indians’ hatred and need for vengeance!
They looked over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t being followed, then loped onward until they found a thick stand of bushes where they could hide.
Chapter Four
Futile the winds
To a heart in port—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart!
—Emily Dickinson
Another day closer to St. Louis, Mia was just about to go rest in the shed when she saw her father grab at his chest and grow pale.
As he gasped, he dropped the oar on the deck and his pipe fell from his mouth and bounced into the water, sinking slowly into the dark abyss.
Her heart pounding with fear for her father, Mia rushed to his side and began helping him down on the deck of the scow.
