Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,37
a loose shoe. They shouldn’t be too far away.” He pulled Hank around and rode away without waiting to see if Jensen was following.
An hour passed with no signs of the team. Daniel had just turned back to get help when two Sioux rode up over a hill and headed for him and Jensen, whooping and yelling at the top of their lungs.
They were too far from the fort to expect any help. The only hope was to head for Jeb Grant’s house to the south and hope that Jensen was a better shot than he was a soldier. Screaming for Jensen to follow him, Daniel kicked Hank and headed out, thankful he had at least chosen the biggest of the mules available in the stable that morning.
They had raced along for nearly half a mile, the Sioux steadily gaining in spite of Jensen’s wild firing, when Daniel headed down into a valley and saw Jensen’s team off to the right. One brave headed after the team. But the second warrior was obviously more intent on scalps than horses. Glancing behind him, Daniel saw why. Not a single horse at the fort could begin to compare with this warrior’s mount, a sleek white stallion that glided over the rough terrain effortlessly and, Daniel noted grimly, tirelessly.
The lone Sioux was gaining with every stride. An arrow sailed past Daniel’s left ear, so close he felt the feathered tip brush against his temple. His pursuer was quiet. Daniel leaned down over the mule’s neck, willing the animal to go faster. Glancing behind him, he saw the warrior raise a long lance in the air and knock Jensen off his horse. He counted coup on Jensen, then raised his war lance and charged after Daniel, his mount easily eating up the distance between them.
Daniel slid to the side of the mule, but Hank was not accustomed to such maneuvers and the minute Daniel’s weight shifted, the mule slowed up and began to bray loudly, sidestepping and crow-hopping until Daniel’s grip around his scrawny neck was loosed and Daniel fell off with a thud. He rolled instinctively, simultaneously avoiding the warrior’s lance and landing his head a glancing blow that left him lying on his back looking up half-dazed toward the sky.
Sensing victory, the warrior leaped off his mount and knelt beside Daniel. With his left hand, he grabbed a wad of thick black hair. He raised his knife just as Daniel’s vision cleared. The two men’s eyes met. The Sioux warrior frowned and grunted. Exhaling sharply, he slumped onto his backside in the dirt and began to laugh, revealing the space where two teeth had been knocked out long ago.
Daniel reached up to rub his scalp, pushing himself upright with his free hand.
“The only soldier I have had a chance to kill in over two moons,” Otter grumbled as he got up and stood facing Daniel, “and he turns out to be my friend.”
The two stood gasping for breath, staring wordlessly at each other. Daniel finally broke the silence. “I hoped you were far up north, free, living the old way.”
Otter shrugged. “When the other chiefs would not unite with him, Little Crow said he would come back to the Big Woods. Some of us came with him.” Otter pointed toward his horse. “Some got good horses.” He shrugged. “Some got killed. I am glad you listened to me that night in camp. When we came back from fighting, Mother Friend told me you were gone.” He smiled. “But she wouldn’t say where.”
“I took the missionary’s children and Blue Eyes down the river in a canoe. I left them at Fort Ridgely and then I went back to the camp to help my friends.” Daniel shook his head. “They put us all in prison for a while.”
Otter poked at one of the brass buttons on Daniel’s worn blue coat. “And yet you serve them?”
“We find our peaceful brothers and bring them to safety. We protect the supply lines taking food west.” He looked at his friend. “And if we find hostile Indians, we are to take them to the fort.”
“That will be hard to do, my friend,” Otter said, smiling. “Since you have no gun.”
“And since I have no gun,” Daniel said quietly, “you will probably be able to escape unharmed and I will have to go back to Fort Ridgely and report that I chased you halfway to Dakota Territory but you had a fine warhorse while I was riding only a