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Blue Thunder watched the men who had also stayed behind, waiting their turn as they politely allowed the women to board first.
Thus far he had not seen Earl Mingus among the men, yet he could see in the distance more men coming from the fort. Most of those men were uniformed soldiers, with only a few civilians among them.
These were the ones Blue Thunder kept his eyes on. Disappointment flooded his senses when he could not spot Earl among the men.
But still he and his warriors waited and watched, until suddenly a shrill whistling sound came from the boat. Everyone who had been waiting a turn was aboard, and the plank was now being hauled onto the ship.
Black smoke came from its huge smokestack, and the paddlewheels began turning, sending even more water pounding against the embankment.
The paddlewheels began turning more quickly, with water splashing from them, and the boat inched farther out toward the middle of the river. Soon it had made its way back downriver, becoming harder to see as it went farther and farther, until finally it could not be seen at all.
“The evil man did not board the riverboat,” Proud Horse said as he sidled his horse closer to Blue Thunder’s. He glanced at the fort, then into Blue Thunder’s eyes. “What do we do now? Where should we look for him?”
“My friend, you are trusted by the soldiers stationed at the fort, so I suggest that you go and very carefully question them about this man,” Blue Thunder said tightly. “Of course they will want to know why you ask, so you can say that he had stolen a valuable horse from your corral. They will ask you how you knew it was he who did this, and you will tell them you saw the man on your horse when you were in the fort the other day. Tell them you did not question him that day because you had to make certain the animal was yours. Say that you returned home and saw that the steed was gone, and that you now hold him accountable for the theft.”
“That sounds like a good enough story to be true,” Proud Horse said. “These white men look down at us, but they secretly envy our freedom. We are not held to the same rules as they. If they disobey, I have heard that they are thrown in a terrible place, where rats gnaw at their bare feet. Someti
mes they are even shot. It is not the way we do things at our village. Rarely do any of our warriors complain about life as we live it.”
“There is one warrior who tests my patience more than others, yet he still makes certain that he does nothing to cause his banishment from the tribe,” Blue Thunder said, thinking of Black Wing and the spiteful, challenging look in his dark eyes when he openly disagreed with his chief.
“I know which warrior you are referring to,” Proud Horse said, frowning. “But Black Wing has done nothing yet to cause him to be banished from our people.”
“He will never go that far, for he has a wife and children to consider,” Blue Thunder said, staring unblinkling at the fort. He reached over and placed a gentle hand on Proud Horse’s shoulder. “You are dependable in all ways, my warrior, so go and see what answers you can get from the white-eyed pony soldiers about Earl Mingus.”
“It is the same as done,” Proud Horse said, reaching up and clasping his hand on Blue Thunder’s shoulder.
Then Proud Horse wheeled his horse around and rode in the direction of the fort.
Impatient that he would have to wait for answers, Blue Thunder sighed heavily.
He dismounted, as did his warriors, then tethered his horse to a tree and walked away from the others to have a moment of privacy.
As the others dutifully waited, Blue Thunder walked farther and farther into the trees, where the thick layer of fallen, damp leaves made strange, spongy sounds beneath his moccasined feet. As he walked deeper into the forest, he suddenly got a faint whiff of smoke coming from ahead.
Curious, he walked more stealthily, his feet as quiet as a panther’s paws as he moved farther into the trees. He was keenly aware that he was leaving the protection of his warriors behind him.
Yet he could not stop now that he had come this far. The smoke spiraled upward through the treetops ahead, as he could hear the faint sound of voices, and then throaty laughter.
He realized now that he was not approaching a cabin, but a campsite.
And the voices were all masculine.
He looked over his shoulder, toward where he had left his warriors and his horse, where his rifle was secured on his saddle. Although his arrows were still in his quiver, the only other weapon he had with him was a sheathed knife.
Realizing how alone he was, and knowing the danger he could be in should those at the campsite be enemies, he started to turn back, but something made him continue on a bit farther.
When he came to a clearing, he leaped back into the shadows of the trees and found himself looking at his worst enemies—the Comanche renegades and none other than Big Nose.
Blue Thunder could not believe his luck that he had happened upon the very renegades he had been hunting for so long. Though he now knew they were not the ones responsible for his wife’s death, they had definitely committed countless atrocities.
Blue Thunder knew he was gazing upon a madman who was perhaps worse than any other. Big Nose and his renegade followers had surely gotten trapped on this side of the river by the higher waters. Blue Thunder was fairly certain that their hideout must be on the other side of the river, for he had never been able to find any trace of them on this side.
His heart pounding, he knew what he must do. He only hoped that he wasn’t discovered before he reached his warriors. Even one wrong step onto a twig, or an alarm sounded by frightened birds scattering overhead, could spell his doom. If the renegades caught him there, alone, he would either be killed instantly or tortured terribly before dying.
Carefully, stealthily, he ran back in the direction of his warriors.
He doubted that the renegades would be going anywhere soon, for the river was treacherous now, its current much too strong to be crossed on horseback.
