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Having now entered the forest that he had observed from on high, High Hawk and Three Bears rode onward for a little while, with only the continued sound of the loon disturbing the silence.
When High Hawk and Three Bears got the scent of smoke, they gave each other looks and nods, then stopped and dismounted.
“We should leave our horses tethered here and go the rest of the way on foot,” High Hawk said, already securing his reins to the low limb of a huge oak tree. “Three Bears, follow a short distance behind me, and stay hidden. When we arrive at the cleared piece of land, stop and keep an eye out for anyone who might come upon us. Also, if you see my life threatened, act quickly. You are a crack shot with your rifle. Shoot to disarm the one who threatens me. Kill only if it becomes absolutely necessary.”
Three Bears nodded. “Go with care, my friend,” he said, gripping his rifle.
High Hawk nodded, then, clutching his own rifle, he ran on ahead of Three Bears.
Noiselessly High Hawk’s moccasined feet fell like the velvet paws of a cat on the thick covering of fallen, browned and rotted leaves, his glittering black eyes scanning every object that appeared within their view as he searched for anything that might be a threat to his and Three Bears’s safety.
Nothing escaped his piercing glance, and before long, he could see the cabin and corral through a break in the trees ahead of him.
The person he had seen outside the cabin seemed to have gone back inside.
Lamplight glowed through the window that faced toward High Hawk. He came to a stop to observe the cabin before deciding what to do.
Being of a curious nature, he could not just turn around and return to the others.
He did not plan to accost those who lived in this cabin, but he had to at least see who made their home so far from others.
The moon again revealed to him the small corral near the cabin. In it stood one of the most beautiful horses he had ever seen.
The moonlight was bright enough for High Hawk to see that the horse was a magnificently muscled chestnut stallion, its eyes bright and alert. It seemed to sense someone was near.
Its right hoof pawed nervously at the earth beneath it. It shook its thick mane, then softly whinnied.
Seeing such a beautiful horse sent shivers of excitement down High Hawk’s spine. How could he see such an animal as this and ignore it?
He could picture himself on this horse, riding into the wind, fast and free. Never had he been as intrigued by a horse as he was now.
And it was obvious to him that whoever owned this steed cared a lot for it. The stallion was impeccably groomed, its coat shiny and sleek, its mane brushed so that surely there was not even one small knot in it.
Longing to stroke his hands down the horse’s withers, and forgetting everything but the thrill of doing so, High Hawk stepped out into the clearing and slipped past one of the cabin windows. He started toward the corral, but his throat constricted when the click of a rifle being readied for firing caused him to stop in mid-step.
Joylynn stood there, her insides trembling, yet her aim accurate as she leveled the rifle directly at the red man’s gut.
She had seen a shadow pass across the window a moment ago.
She had crept to the window and peered from it, fear gripping her when she saw that she was no longer alone. An Indian stood just outside, a rifle in his right hand.
Praying that there was only one Indian, she had grabbed her rifle and stepped outside.
“Throw down your rifle or I will shoot you dead,” Joylynn said, fighting to keep her voice steady.
The loon’s cry from somewhere close by continued as High Hawk’s breathing came rapidly and shallowly. He gazed back at the woman, and then at the rifle.
She seemed to know enough about firearms to shoot him, especially since she had been courageous enough to come outside her home with the rifle and face him, a red man, straight on.
It was humiliating for him, a man who would be chief, to have been stopped by a woman, when usually he was so careful. No man had ever cornered him in such a way.
He thought quickly about the situation.
Since there was only one horse, surely she was alone.
But would her husband arrive soon? If so, he would not hesitate to shoot High Hawk at first sight.
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