Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,6

if the cabin had been burned down, and smiled at the memory of the strong-willed Miss Jane Williams. He thought about the vine that nearly hid the front of her cabin and the little bird that flitted around the flowers hanging on that vine. They were the color of the setting sun, beautiful against the plain wooden cottage. He remembered standing beneath that vine in the moonlight, with Blue Eyes staring up at him, breathless with emotion.

Try as he would, Daniel could not completely conquer the sense of hope threatening to overtake him. For a long time now, God had not seemed to hear the prayers he and Robert Lawrence prayed daily. But just when he had determined to stop praying, Sacred Lodge had arrived to take them out of prison. Perhaps it was a new beginning. Perhaps, Daniel thought, he would find peace wandering the places that, like him, had once been filled with life, but were now ruined and empty.

One

For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth.

—Job 37:6

“You sure it’s there?” Robert Lawrence leaned toward Daniel, screaming above the wind.

“It’s there.” Daniel hunkered down in the saddle, dipping his nose beneath his upturned collar, trying to protect his frost-bitten ears.

They were half ashamed, this handful of Dakota scouts sent out earlier that day to reconnoiter from the camp down by Rice Creek. They had grown up in this land, knew it as well as anyone. Should have known when the wind shifted. Should have seen the wall of dark clouds and headed back to camp. But Brady Jensen thought he had picked up a fresh trail. He cursed their cowardice. Said he wouldn’t quit because of a little snow. So they followed him past the old mission and around the edge of the lake.

When the wall of snow first slammed into them they weren’t all that concerned. Late spring snows weren’t anything unusual in Minnesota. No one wanted to give up on the first good trail they had located since being sent up here a few weeks ago. They wanted prisoners to hand over to General Sibley in the spring. And no one had proof that Little Crow had actually left the area. It might be Little Crow himself they were trailing. And so they had kept on until the wind began to freeze their noses and their horses floundered in blizzard-deep drifts.

Once Jensen relented, once they realized they needed to find shelter, someone mentioned old Fort LaCroix. The trader had been dead awhile. No one knew if it was even still standing. Hostiles might have burned it on their way north. But if even one of the buildings still, stood, it might save their toes—maybe even their lives.

Their leader, a man named Daniel Two Stars who spoke in grunts and stayed to himself, had been to Fort LaCroix more than once in the old days before the war. He said they were close. Since he was the best tracker among them, they followed him blindly through the snow.

Dumb luck or answered prayer. Take your pick. Either way Daniel slid off his bay gelding and, after feeling his way a moment, shouted for help. He and Robert worked feverishly, clearing away a drift and then pulling a rickety gate toward them. The men stumbled into a deserted compound that had once been the best-stocked trading post in Minnesota. Presently they were shaking the snow off inside a barn with stalls enough for each of the six horses and even a few piles of old hay in the loft above. By nightfall, with the storm still raging, they had knocked apart old LaCroix’s table and started a fire in the stone fireplace inside the trader’s own cabin.

Empty tin cans scattered across the floor told them others had taken shelter inside the compound in the past. When they heard something skitter across the ceiling, one of them charged up the stairs to the loft and returned with a huge raccoon, which they promptly killed, skinned, gutted, and roasted over the fire.

As night fell they stretched out atop their bedrolls around the fire. It had been known to snow for days when one of these storms stalled over Lac Qui Parle. There would be plenty of time to see what else old trader LaCroix might have left behind.

After everyone else was asleep, Daniel crept away from the fire. When none of the other men moved, he crouched low and made his way to the room at the back