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Elizabeth glanced at Maysie and felt warm inside, for she had never seen Maysie so alive and vital as now, and Elizabeth was proud to think that she was partially responsible for that.
Yet there was Four Winds. Elizabeth knew the power of an Indian’s love. That it was special, and oh, so wonderful. Maysie was inspired now by such a love, which would lead her into a different life—a life of total caring and commitment, instead of one of degradation.
“Up ahead yonder,” Maysie informed Elizabeth. “Four Winds is hiding in an abandoned mine shaft.”
They rode onward, then dismounted when they reached the mine shaft. After securing her horse’s reins, Elizabeth went with Maysie into the dark shaft, then stopped with a start when Four Winds stepped suddenly out of the shadows, blocking their way, a rifle aimed directly at Elizabeth.
Chapter 28
Joy so seldom weaves a chain
Like this tonight, that O! ’tis pain
To break its links so soon.
—THOMAS MOORE
Terrified, Elizabeth stood in the mine shaft, staring at the rifle, and at Four Winds’s face that was distorted with hate. She grabbed Maysie by the hand and attempted to run away with her, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground, unable to move as Four Winds began pulling the trigger. . . .
Elizabeth awakened with a start, and looked anxiously around her, then sighed with relief when she realized that she had had another nightmare. Her dream was far from the truth of what had really happened. When she and Maysie had gone to Four Winds, he had quickly offered to take Elizabeth to Strong Heart. He urged Maysie to return to Seattle, promising that he would return for her later.
Elizabeth and Four Winds had ridden hard to reach Strong Heart’s village, and as quickly as Strong Heart had been able to round up many braves, they had left by canoe on the river. Going by canoe would make it easier to remove the nets.
Elizabeth had fallen asleep on soft pelts on the floor of Strong Heart’s massive canoe, snuggled beneath a warm bearskin. She lifted the bearskin aside, and rose to sit on the seat just behind Strong Heart. She felt his eyes on her as he turned to check on her welfare. She smiled at him, so glad that he had allowed her to come on this mission so she could settle the score with her father, herself. He was a man that she no longer knew—a man guided by treachery and greed.
It tore at her heart to know this side of her father, and she doubted that she could ever forgive him.
When Strong Heart turned his gaze back to stare down the avenue of the river, Elizabeth reached for the bearskin and wrapped it around her shoulders, content at least for the moment. For she had proven where her loyalties lay by having brought Strong Heart the news of the nets.
Four Winds had also proven his loyalty to Strong Heart, and now rode in a canoe that was moving beside Strong Heart’s.
Driven by the sinewy arms of the oarsmen, the many intricately designed canoes pushed their way down the cold river that wound through the black forest and beneath the majestic bluffs, the long oars rising and falling in regular strokes.
The moon shone brightly onto the water, turning the tossing waves into flashing jewels. The wind soughed, and somewhere in the distance an owl hooted.
Elizabeth gazed at Four Winds’s canoe. The moonlight revealed its decorations of sea otter t
eeth and the prow handsomely carved in the design of a whale. As were all of the canoes traveling the rushing waters tonight, the canoe that Four Winds commanded had been hollowed by fire and adz and was very sleek, designed for fast, silent travel.
Elizabeth looked down at herself. Many Stars had urged her to change her clothes before setting out on this journey. Elizabeth had had just enough time to change from her cotton dress into a fine, white buckskin dress, and comfortably soft moccasins. Many Stars had plaited Elizabeth’s hair, so that it now hung in two braids down her back.
Elizabeth ran her fingers over the soft fabric of her buckskin dress, gazing at Strong Heart. His back was to her, she admired the definition of his muscles beneath the fabric of his own buckskin shirt. The fringes of the sleeves and his long brown hair lifted and waved in the breeze.
She looked down at the muscles of his arms, as they flexed and unflexed as he drew his single oar rhythmically through the water. She knew the strength of those arms, and desired to be held within his powerful embrace.
Then she stiffened and she grabbed ahold of the side of the canoe, for up ahead was a sudden cottony layer of fog which would hinder the view of the braves as they looked for the nets. It seemed as though her father had planned it this way—that he had the power of even changing the mood of the weather to suit his purpose.
But the steady movement of the oars did not slacken. They slid into the fog and as if guided by some unseen force, they did not crash into any floating debris, or the banks of the river.
The canoes kept a steady pace, the sound of the oars making contact with the water now almost eerie in the dim haze.
Elizabeth now felt strangely alone, for she could not even see Strong Heart through the denseness of the fog. It was as if she was the only person in the world.
Then the canoes slid from the screen of fog, and once more followed the moonlit path on the water until Strong Heart raised a fist in the air in a silent command for his braves to stop. As his canoe came to a halt in the water, so did those that followed.
Elizabeth’s breath quickened as Strong Heart, along with the other braves, turned the direction of their canoes and paddled slowly toward shore.
Once there, they pulled their canoes ashore on a spit of sand. Elizabeth nodded a silent thank you to Strong Heart as he helped her from the boat.
