by Rita Karnopp
"This foolish old Indian will count the sunsets until he sees the face of his daughter."
Contemplating, Dirk wrestled with telling Trail Walker that Whispering Sun could hear once again. Finally, Dirk decided she should be the one to tell Trail Walker. "Whispering Sun has asked me to bring you back to our village when I return. We want you to life with us. I agree, it is a good idea." It pleased Dirk to see the old man's eyes mist over.
"An old man does not like to bother young people. You and Sara…Whispering Sun should have your tipi to yourselves."
Laughing, Dirk shook his head. "Already we are not alone. Otter Woman is my mother. Her son, Walks Like Bear, recently died, leaving her alone. Amunis Ahki has taught Whispering Sun much and is a great comfort to her. The old woman has become the mother Whispering Sun never had."
"My daughter sounds happy. I feel it is so. My heart soars with gladness to know she is alive. My eyes yearn to see her beautiful face and to tell her how greatly I have missed her."
"Then you will come back with me? We would be most honored to have you as a member of our family."
"I long to smell the campfires of my people. To hear the children laugh and play. I want to hear the women giggle and gossip as they do their work. I have missed my people's ways all these years. I believe it is time for these tired old eyes and bones to return to the land where my people live. My greatest wish is to die in a tipi with my moccasins on."
"Rest," Dirk said, reaching over and squeezing the old man's shoulder. "I will return and tell you of my visit with the General."
With slow, deliberate steps, Dirk returned to his horse. Glancing back at Trail Walker, Dirk realized the old Indian had already fallen asleep. His expression seemed one of contentment, different than the lifeless one of a short time ago.
Dirk left his horse, hoping the guard would assume he still sat, talking with Trail Walker.
Weaving his way toward the General's house, Dirk considered the importance of his meeting with Whispering Sun's father. Dirk knew if he didn't convince General Bryson of Giles guilt, many innocent lives, both white and Indian, would be lost.
Reaching the General's house, Dirk edged along the structure until he came to an open window. With noiseless movements, he entered the room, his eyes quickly adjusting to the moon-cast, dark room. He moved along the wall in search of a doorknob, feeling his way until his actions were rewarded.
He opened the door and eased into a dimly lit hall, an eerie array of shadows danced within its boundaries. Dirk observed a light filtering out from under a door, then moved toward it. Gripping the round, wooden doorknob, he inched the door open, then slipped inside, undetected.
He observed the man sitting at a heavy, dark oak desk, noting he'd aged some. The General cared so much about the success of the fort and so little about his daughter. How could he have turned his back on her? Dirk had mixed feelings of hatred and pity for Whispering Sun's father.
For several seconds Dirk boldly stood before the General, before being noticed. Then, upon detection, Dirk watched a panicked expression sweep over the man as he jerked his head up.
"How'd you get in here? Who are you? What are you coming to me for in the middle of the night?"
"Dirk Williams at your service, Sir," he said, laying a white eagle feather on General Bryson's desk, hoping the man would realize the symbolism presented. He hated exposing his white identity, but he had to give all. The stakes were too high to hold back.
Watching the General pick up the feather, then twirl it between his thumb and index finger, gave Dirk time to calm his pounding heart. He watched recognition register on the General's face, which quickly turned to one of great interest. "You! You're the man who has rescued so many people, my daughter included."
"Yes. But I do not wish my identity to be revealed. I trust you with my secret. I have come forward to you now only to show you how sincere I am. As for what do I want, well, let's just say I may have some long awaited answers for you, General." Dirk watched the words sink into the General's thoughts. He straightened his back, then squared his shoulders.
"I hope your business is worth the interruption. I still have much to do, the hour grows late."
"I promise you, General, this interruption is well worth your time," Dirk said, moving closer, then sitting in a chair facing the General's desk. "I will become blunt. I can prove to you the master-mind behind your rifle shipment attacks."
"What?"
Dirk watched the muscles on the General's face visibly tighten. He leaned on his elbows, toward Dirk.
"Who? Tell me who? I'll have the jackal chained before the night is through."
Dirk had the General's attention. Now he had to make the most of the information from Trail Walker, Melody, Whispering Sun, and Howls At The Moon. "I'll, once again be blunt. The man you are looking for is Giles Rutledge."
"Don't be a fool, man. I don't know who told you this nonsense. You sound like that old Indian."
Dirk leaned forward. "You should not be so hasty nor so fooled by this deceitful Giles Rutledge. It is a fact that he only came around your daughter to have access to your house, and your shipment papers. It makes sense, if you're willing to think about it."
The General stared back at Dirk, his face void of any revealing reactions. Dirk thought he detected a wavering.
"Knowing the kind of man you are, or appears to be, I assume you have more than words to back up your accusation?"
"I see you are a man of devotion and believe in the cavalry. What if I can take you to the very place this Giles will have his men attack your troops?"
"I'd say you're lying. Giles isn't even near the fort. He's out searching for my daughter. He's been gone a good ten days, should be back any time. When he returns with her, they'll be married. So you see, your words attack my future son-in-law."
"I did not say Giles would be present. Then again, if he is expected back any day, what's to keep him from making sure his plan works? I promised to take you to where the planned attack will be. How can I know? One of the men in this outlaw gang is a friend of mine. He joined the bunch just to keep us informed. Giles Rutledge is the leader of this group of men. A group of cutthroats, murderers, and money-hungry grubbers. They'll do anything Giles Rutledge tells them to do, for the right price. Howls At the Moon will tell you this and more."
"An Indian! Your man is an Indian! I won't take the word of an Indian."
"Will you take my word? I have a reputation for being honest. I have seen meetings between Giles and a man named Enos. I've heard them discussing their attacks. Giles gets the information from your log and passes it onto his friend Enos. Enos runs the gang, but Giles runs the operation."
"How can I be sure you're this hero? Anyone can walk into my office, with a white feather in his hand, claiming to be this man. You're a stranger to me. Your word seems to cast a shadow."
Dirk smiled, nearly chuckling at the General's choice of words. "Would you doubt the word of your daughter?"
"What the hell kind of question is that! I'll have you tossed in the stockade for that!"
"Hold your water, General. I'm far from a foolish man, as I believe you to be," Dirk said, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket, then tossing it on the desk.
Dirk knew he had the General's interest peaked. The man quickly grabbed the note, unfolded it, then read out loud; "Father, It wasn't my wish to ever let you know that I'm alive. That may sound cruel and even bitter, but it's true. I'm only doing so because there is a great need for you to know the truth. Whether you choose to believe it, is up to you."
Remaining still, Dirk watched the General clench his jaw. If he didn't finish reading the note, Dirk knew he'd failed in his effort to prove Giles guilt.
"I didn't run away from home, although I must admit, the thought had occurred to me a time or two. Giles Rutledge and René planned to sell Melody and me to saloon keepers or trappers. Melody had been taken for the money. Me, I needed to be silenced. I had seen Giles sneak i
nto the house early one morning, go to your office, and read through your shipment log books. I'm still not certain how he knew I'd seen him, but I realized it only too late. My leg is injured, or I would have come to tell you this in person. I know you don't want to believe anything against your wonderful Giles Rutledge, but I'm telling you the truth. I know how you feel about me, but don't let that shadow your judgment."
The General paused, holding the paper to the lantern sitting on his desk. Dirk held his breath, afraid the General would claim it to be a hoax.
"Giles has killed many good cavalrymen and is setting things up to get many more killed. The Blackfeet are not guilty of these raids. If you had checked their villages, you would have found no great stockpiles of supplies or new rifles with plenty of bullets for everyone. Surely, had they stolen the food, you would not find the cooking pots in the villages near the fort empty. Maybe the truth is just so close, you can't see it. Open your eyes before it's too late, Father. You want me to marry Giles, it will never happen.
Junior has forgiven me for his accident. Maybe someday you will forgive me, too. It really wasn't my fault. Your daughter, Sarah."
Dirk hadn't expected the General to read the letter aloud. Hurt, sorrow, and even bitterness rang in her words. Dirk admired her spunk.
"She has always been too spirited for a girl. She is alive, then?"
Dirk cleared his throat. "Pretty hard to write a letter from a grave, I'd say."
"Where is she?"
"I'll let her decide if she wants you to know. It's not important. What is important is that she wants you to know the truth about Giles Rutledge."
"How can I be sure this letter is from Sarah? Could be anyone's letter."
"Are you telling me you don't recognize your daughter's handwriting? Are you telling me someone could know how Sarah feels about Junior, and how you've treated her since your son's death? I think you know the truth and don't want to face it."
"Just one minute! You watch your mouth or I'll have you tossed in that stockade yet. Of course it's Sarah's handwriting. I'm just damn irritated by her...her―"
"Honesty! Is that the word you are searching for?"
"Let's say I believe you. How do you explain the Blackfeet arrows and the mutilations of my men? I've been there and I've seen it. Damn ghastly. Giles and a bunch of white outlaws aren't capable of such disgusting butchery."
"Believe me, General Bryson, they are capable of even worse than that. You'd better face a few facts. Giles Rutledge has got you buffaloed. The sooner you face that fact, the sooner we will be to catching the animal."
"I'm not easily convinced, like a fool."
"I understand your concern and the evidence you have against the Blackfeet. I am here to tell you these men are not Blackfeet Indians. They are white scoundrels dressed as Blackfeet warriors, using Blackfeet arrows and even Blackfeet knives. It sounds like an easy way to try and place the blame elsewhere. Sounds even too simple, I'll agree. Fact is, General, it is true. I would not be here otherwise."
General Bryson rubbed his chin with his thumb. For the first time of their conversation, Dirk saw the wavering of doubt.
"I'm supposing you have a plan?"
Dirk breathed a sigh of relief. "You bet I do. Can I assume the date for the next shipment has already been entered in the book? Before you answer, tell me if Giles Rutledge left the morning after you entered that date and route in your shipment books."
Again, Giles watched the General rub his chin, thinking things through his mind.
"Yes, matter-of-fact that's exactly how it happened. I'm starting to believe you, Dirk Williams. I'm not liking it one bit, but I'm starting to believe I've been had. I've been a soldier my whole life. I believe in what I've accomplished here in the wilderness. If Giles Rutledge is guilty of your charges, he'll find himself in a hell-hole stockade for the remainder of his days. This I'll see to personally."
"I'm glad you have come to your senses, General. There is one way I can prove to you the information is coming from your fort. You know when and what time the next supply shipment is coming, right?"
"That's true."
"At first light I will meet you under the tree with Trail Walker. I will tell you when and where the attack will take place."
"I have a hard time believing you'll have the date. I'm the only person that knows this information."
"We will see, won't we General?"
"I agree with you, young man. I hope, for your sake, you're not playing me for a fool. You'll regret playing games with me."
"I assure you, this is no game," Dirk said, struggling to keep his tone relatively civil, in spite of the anger he felt.
"We'll see, won't we?"
Dirk watched General Bryson sit back in his chair, dropping his gaze to the papers he'd been working on when Dirk arrived. The rude dismissal irritated him. He slipped from the room, hoping his silent disappearance was as surprising, even annoying, as his sudden appearance.
Dirk made his way back, inching his way toward Trail Walker's cot.
"Did he believe you?" Trail Walker asked.
Dirk chuckled. "Should have known I couldn't sneak up on you. Never could," he said, surprised to see how good the old Indian looked. He'd washed, changed into clean buckskins, and even had his hair loose, except for a thin braid off his right temple, tied with a brass disk ornament. He had come alive.
"It pleases me to see you looking this good."
"It would not give me pride for my daughter to see me as I was. I taught her never to give up. I forgot those wise words. Now that I remember them, I must strive to set a good example."
"She will be pleased to see her father looking this well."
"We must get serious," Trail Walker said, adjusting his legs, grimacing at the movement.
"General Bryson is a stubborn man. It took many words before he would try to listen. Whispering Sun's letter opened his ears. Her letter didn't read soft and gentle as I had expected. Her words cut deep and honest. They were the words the General needed to make him realize Giles Rutledge might be guilty."
"If you expected words from Sarah, Whispering Sun, to be gentle and soft, you do not know her well at all."
Dirk laughed, deep, warm and rich. "You know her well. I have never met a more stubborn woman. I have never met a more loving woman. She is all or nothing. That is not always easy, but it is honest."
"I have misjudged you. I see you do know her well. It is because of her stubbornness that she learned to hear with her eyes and speak with her hands. She has marvelous spirit. The spirit of a true Blackfeet. You have chosen wise for a wife."
"Thank you." Dirk said, sitting on the ground, facing Trail Walker's cot. "Now, I need to know, did Howls At the Moon come see you?"
"Yes. He said the men are attacking at Mule Creek, high noon tomorrow. He stayed for only a short time, then went to the camp of Horse Racer and He Who Listens. Howls At the Moon wanted to go with his brothers to help protect your woman, but it would not be wise for him to disappear from the camp of the enemy. It would warn them. He will keep a watchful eye, and that is important, too."
"It will be better. If Giles shows up with Whispering Sun, Howls At The Moon will be close. He might be our only chance to save her. I hope it doesn't come to that. Giles might not find her. My instincts tell me this is not true. I feel her calling to me."
"A feeling I had for a long time. Then it passed. I decided she stopped asking for my help. That was when I thought she had gone to the Sand Hills. She stopped calling for my help because she found you."
"Your wisdom has grown with time. You could teach our young warriors much with all you hear, feel and see. When you return to our village, you must work with our young warriors."
"It may not be possible. There is a good chance these old legs will never support my body again. If that is true, then the young boys would be wiser to turn to a younger, stronger, more alive teacher."
"Did I say a teacher must be able to walk? Do you speak with
your legs? Do you tell your stories or teach our language with your legs? No. It is time you stop feeling sorry for yourself. You must realize you are not useless unless you decide you are useless. Our young warriors need you. Are you going to let them down?"
The tone and words of his friend made Trail Walker pause, anger filled him. Had he been feeling sorry for himself? How often had he told Sarah those very same words? He could teach the young warriors without being able to walk. He imagined it for a few moments, then smiled. He surely could. He would tell the young men all he knew. Teach them the ways of the old ones. Tell them the stories of the people so they could be passed on to the next generation of Blackfeet warriors. He would prepare the young men for their first vision, and he would be there for their first defeat, then first conquest.
Yes. He would be a teacher, then it would be time for his spirit to travel to a great hummock between Red Deer River and the South Saskatchewan. It would then ascend into the air and proceed southward to a delightful country, well stocked with horses, buffalo, and women. There he would live happy to all eternity; chasing buffalo and enjoying handsome women.
Yes, he now had a purpose in this life, and looked forward to his eternal life. He could hardly wait to see Whispering Sun. Somehow it wasn't too difficult imagining her as a Blackfeet wife.
"You have given this old man some good advice. I will go back to my people. I will be honored to live in your tipi with you and my daughter. I would be honored to teach our young warriors," Trail Walker said, looking over at Dirk.
Trail Walker smiled at the sleeping warrior. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell him.
Chapter Nineteen
He'd kill René'…if he wasn't already dead! Giles stomped back and forth in a fit of rage. How could everyone be killed but Melody and Sarah? How the hell did that useless Melody even make it back to the fort? Unfortunately, if Melody made it back, Sarah could too.
Damn that girl for lying. He'd gotten the truth out of her. A few threats of exposing she hadn't married René and that her child coming into the world was a bastard, got her talkin' real fast.
