Flight of the Crow (The Southeast Series Book 2)

by Paul Clayton

  The birds came lower and a great whirring sound filled the air. Running Wolf crouched down, cowering. Black Snake shouted over at him. “Do something! Stop it.”

  Running Wolf sang a prayer as he looked up at the turning sky.

  “Are you saying the proper prayer?” shouted Black Snake, “you must be doing something wrong.”

  Running Wolf bared his teeth. “I know what I am doing, cousin.”

  They looked back up. The thick cloud of birds had become a great maelstrom. Disorientation and nausea overcame them as they felt themselves being pulled up. They fell down, coughing and vomiting.

  “I am falling up!” screamed Kicking Dog.

  Black Snake held tightly to a tree and vomited. He screamed up at the sky, “Aieyee, Great Spirit, make them go away.”

  As the thick, dark mass turned above them, it extended a great, black tongue which spiraled down to the earth. The birds rode it down, settling onto the earth, turning it the tan color of their bodies. Black Snake and the others got to their feet. They watched in awe as the Spanish came from their huts into the meadow. They carried blankets and long knives, sticks, pots, and the strange thundersticks.

  The Black Robe pointed a thunderstick at the sea of birds on the ground. It issued lightning and smoke. A moment later its thunder reached their ears. Then the other thundersticks were booming, the people swinging sticks and knives, throwing blankets, grabbing wildly with their hands.

  The flock of birds rose as one thing, filling the air with the hum of its wings. Later, when it was a dark blur on the horizon, Black Snake and the others began to move about. They looked down and saw that the Spanish had taken many birds. Black Snake turned to leave and the others followed him. No one spoke until they had passed below the canopy of the forest. The comforting quiet and dim light soothed them and they talked again of what they had seen.

  “What powerful medicine the Black Robe has,” said Kicking Dog in wonder as they filed along the trail.

  Running Wolf, who was walking behind Kicking Dog, struck him in the head, knocking him to the ground. He glared down at him. “My medicine is stronger. You will see. When the time is right, I will strike the Black Robe down. You will see!”

  Running Wolf pushed past the others and took the lead on the trail back to Aguacay.

  Chapter 13

  Calling Crow went into the council house and knelt before the sacred fire. The old medicine man called Two Clouds sat cross-legged by the wall on his platform. Two women sat next to him. Calling Crow assumed they were his wives. One woman handed Two Clouds a gourd full of steaming liquid. He sipped hungrily and noisily, pausing every now and then to talk softly to the two women.

  Calling Crow ignored them as he leaned toward the fire and sang a prayer.

  Sacred Fire,

  Come down from Father Sun,

  Light my way through

  This night of sorrow.

  Calling Crow took some of the cool white ash from the fire and rubbed it on his face for its medicine power, as he slowly repeated the melodic prayer. When his face was covered, he left and walked out of the village. Later that day he stood atop Turtle Hill, looking down on the Spanish settlement. The weather was cool and he wore a deerskin shirt that Green Bird Woman had made for him. He had heard the story of the cloud of birds from Red Feather and the others and he wanted to see for himself what the Spanish were up to. He watched for a while but no one was about and so he went back into the great forest.

  He ran along one of the broad trails for a time, then left it and went into the trees. He felt odd again, like when he had had the dream of finding Juana. His feet took him through the forest to a place he’d never been before. A flutter sounded high in the trees and a large bird flew past, making a black streak against the green of the trees. The crow lit in a tree before a thick copse of bushes. It seemed to be waiting for him.

  The crow watched Calling Crow approach, flying off when he drew near. Puzzled, Calling Crow explored the seemingly impenetrable green wall of the copse. He found a small animal trail and crawled inside. The trail came out into a small green glade. Calling Crow froze. It was the place he had dreamed of. There was no sound, as if the entire forest was watching and waiting. He looked at the tiny mossy island in the middle of the black water pond and the solitary tree that sprouted from it. A woman sat there!

  Calling Crow stared at her for a long time. The familiar-looking, small brown shoulders did not move. Calling Crow did not move and his ash-whitened face was as solid as some ancient mask. He realized that she knew he was there, that she had for some time, and that she had frozen, not unlike an animal which suddenly finds itself in the presence of a stalker.

  She turned to face him. It was Juana! She wore a Spanish gown and a large wooden cross hung around her neck.

  She stared in his direction for a few moments without seeing him. He tried to speak, but he had no voice. Their eyes met. Fear contorted her face and she uttered a cry. She made the sign of the cross as the Spanish did and ran through the shallow water, disappearing into the thicket. He forced his body to move and went over to the little island.

  Was he crazy, he wondered, was he dreaming? He looked around and saw the cross that had been around her neck lying on the mud, its cord having broken. He picked it up and felt her warmth in it. He caressed it. Retying the cord, he put it around his neck and under his shirt. He would return. So would she. He knew she would.

  Juana was crying as she headed for the settlement. The sound of hammering and voices reached her ears. She passed some people searching for mollusks in the stream. She tried to compose herself, rubbing away her tears, but could not get rid of the hideous image-- a disembodied, stone-white death mask floating in the bushes. She had been thinking of him too much lately. Aieyee! Perhaps that’s what was wrong. Maybe the horrible face had been the devil. She would have to tell Father Tomas about it.

  She suddenly realized that the cross Father Tomas had given her was gone. She must have dropped it there. Again she saw the frightening face and shivered uncontrollably.

  Chapter 14

  Red Feather ran into Green Bird Woman’s hut. His eyes were wide and his hands gripped his lance tightly. “Come quickly,” he shouted to Calling Crow, “the others have already left.”

  “Aieyee, little man,” said Green Bird Woman, looking up from her soup pot, “what is so important that you burst in on our meal?”

  Red Feather turned to her. “Old Half Foot is awake and feeding!”

  Calling Crow’s thoughts had been dark of late. Juana was alive and she was near. He had grown to enjoy his life with Green Bird Woman, but now this life was crazy again. Despite Calling Crow’s heavy heart, however, he could not help smiling at Red Feather’s excitement. It was a good thing to see. The boy had turned into a brave young man in the two Turnings-Of-The-Sky that Calling Crow had been here.

  Green Bird Woman scoffed. “It is probably just some boys making his track. No one has seen any sign of him around here for four Turnings-Of-The-Sky.”

  Red Feather shook his head vigorously. “They found some recent kills and his track is all over the place. They say it must be him!”

  Calling Crow put down the calabash of maize soup. “Tell me about this Half Foot,” he said.

  “He is an old bear,” said Red Feather, “and very big. They say he stepped on a sleeping alligator and the alligator chewed up his left hind paw bad. That is how he got his name. They say he has lived and hunted around here since long before I came into the world. He is so smart that no one has ever been able to catch him.”

  “Where is he?” said Calling Crow.

  “Down past Beaver Dam. The others have already left. I came for you as soon as I heard.”

  “Take Calling Crow with you,” said Green Bird Woman, “he might as well be gone. Lately, even when he’s here, he’s not here.”

  Red Feather smiled.

  Calling Crow looked over at Green Bird Woman, but she would not meet his eyes. He walked o
ver to the wall and lifted his bow and quiver down. Green Bird Woman sat beside Santee. Santee smiled a toothless smile at Calling Crow. “Some nice bear ribs would go good in this cool weather,” she laughed. “I can taste them already.”

  Calling Crow and Red Feather caught up with the men after running fast for a while. Rain Cloud brought up the rear of the column and Calling Crow and Red Feather fell in behind him. Despite the coolness of the day, Rain Cloud’s face was sweat-drenched as he turned to them in acknowledgment. Rocking back and forth in his peculiar gait, he struggled to keep up with the others. Calling Crow could see that he was in pain. He thought of all the stories he had heard about the man’s brave days and he knew they must be true.

  The men further up the column laughed and joked over the prospect of killing Half Foot, their words floating back on the cool, damp air. Calling Crow caught their excitement and it was good. Juana’s cross still hung on his chest beneath his deerskin shirt and he prayed to the great spirit guide, Jesus. Please Jesus, let him, Calling Crow, be the one the bear gave himself up to. He wanted a large share of the bear’s meat to bring back for their meal tonight.

  The column came to a halt in a clearing. They found one of Half Foot’s signs marking the boundaries of his territory—a gouge he had made high on a tree trunk with his claws. Any bears wandering by could stand up and measure themselves against this mark. If they couldn’t reach it they had better move on. None of the bravos in the hunting party could reach it and they looked up at it in wonder. A bravo called Elk Rib donned a bear skin and got down on all fours. As several bravos pounded on drums, the men sang for a kill and Elk Rib did a bear dance. Along with the others, Calling Crow danced around him, aiming the arrow nocked in his bow at him as they sang their prayer.

  Somewhere the Bear wakes.

  He talks and moves about.

  I talk and move about.

  Arise, arise,

  The hunt is on.

  Black Snake stepped back from the noise of the drums and the shouts of the dancers. He watched Calling Crow. Like a tick on a dog, this man had attached himself to his people, thriving. Not only did Atina accept him, but most of the bravos did as well. Calling Crow looked nothing like the white hairfaces, but Black Snake was convinced that his spirit was white. Why else would he protect them? He was somehow connected to them. Atina could not see this, nor could the old men, not even Sees Far. But Black Snake could see it clearly.

  As Black Snake watched Calling Crow dancing with the others, he remembered the iron axe incident in the council house and the embers of his hate glowed cherry red. He was running out of time. He must do something about Calling Crow before his influence became too strong. But what? It was said that his medicine was so powerful that even Running Wolf could not overcome it. The people all knew the story of The-Leaf-That-Became-A-Bird, and how that had led to his victory over Kills Bear. Black Snake was not sure about that. It could have been that the sun had gotten in Kills Bear’s eyes and he had paid dearly for that mistake. The people also talked about how the big alligator had taken Calling Crow down to the waterworld to eat him, but decided not to. Black Snake scoffed. Alligators could be killed. Then Black Snake thought of the spell Calling Crow had cast over Green Bird Woman and he shuddered in revulsion. Aieyee! That was the worst of all. She was a good woman, handsome and bold. Her affection for this dangerous stranger pierced Black Snake’s heart like the cold flinty point of a lance. He would kill Calling Crow. Calling Crow had no medicine that could stop him. He must wait for his chance.

  Black Snake raised his hand and called a halt to the dancing. “We go,” he commanded, and led off down the trail. When their shadows grew half as long as a man, they came to the dried up riverbed where the bear’s track had been spotted. Spindly cottonwood trees and thick blackberry briars crowded the riverbank.

  Black Snake commanded the Hawk bravos to sweep in a line in the direction the river used to flow. He commanded Rain Cloud and the Fox bravos to sweep the other side of the bank. Then he and five others climbed down onto the muddy riverbed.

  Beating the thick briars with their bows and lances, the bravos sang and shouted to drive the bear before them. Black Snake expertly read the many paw prints and broken leaves and branches as he followed the bear’s track. It came to an end in a thicket of bright green bushes. Using signs, he directed the Hawk warriors to cross the stream bed and move toward the bushes from the other side. He waved Rain Cloud and his men up. Then he and his Wolf warriors crept forward.

  Black Snake signaled for Elk Rib to go inside the bushes. Elk Rib crept into the bright green leaves and disappeared. A moment later a roar sounded, followed by a quick scream of pain.

  Black Snake and his men pushed through the bushes, coming out onto a curve in the river bed. Elk Rib lay dead, the huge brown bulk of Half Foot leaning over him. A single arrow stuck in Half Foot’s shoulder. Half Foot turned to the men, his small eyes narrowing as he swung his large head back and forth. Getting no scent, he lowered his head and bit Elk Rib’s shoulder, tearing away a strip of skin.

  “Die, hairy man!” screamed Black Snake as he nocked an arrow into his bow and ran toward the bear. The Fox and Hawk warriors were already in position and followed suit, running in to close the circle. Arrows flew through the air from every direction, striking the bear all over its body. Roaring in rage, it stood tall as it looked around. It picked Rain Cloud out of the crowd of bravos and lumbered toward him. Rain Cloud stood his ground as he aimed his arrow. It went over the bear’s head and in the next instant the bear knocked him flat. Rain Cloud’s body went limp and the bear paused. Black Snake spotted Calling Crow running at the bear from the other side of the river bed. As the other bravos continued to shoot their arrows, Black Snake saw his chance to free his people from the evil outsider, Calling Crow. He was just a man and now he would die like one.

  Black Snake aimed his arrow at Calling Crow’s heart. Uttering the prayer that would guide it, he let it fly. It struck Calling Crow firmly in the center of his chest and he continued running. “Aieyee!” Black Snake watched in amazement as Calling Crow brushed the arrow from his chest as if it were an annoying burr.

  Calling Crow’s breastbone burned from the impact of the arrow into Juana’s cross. He saw the shocked face of Black Snake and knew what had happened. But the cross’s medicine was strong and he thanked the Jesus for saving him. Now it was Rain Cloud that needed saving. He prayed he would be in time. He could not let the bear have him. Coming up behind the bear, Calling Crow smacked it soundly on its hind quarters with his bow. Jumping nimbly out of reach as the bear turned in surprise, he ran back the way he had come. Bawling out its rage, the bear raced after him, wearing its arrows like a porcupine its quills.

  Calling Crow chanced a look behind. Despite the fact that many of the arrows had found their mark, he knew he had only moments left. He prayed to his Grandfathers to die brave. Turning, he pulled his knife and screamed out a war cry. As the bear bore down on him, something moved in the corner of his eye. Three Spanish slid down the loose sandy dirt of the bank. One of them carried a long thunderstick with the shooting stand already attached. He knelt and aimed as the bear roared out its rage. Thunder, fire and smoke erupted, and the bear fell forward, a crumpled mass of bloodied fur at Calling Crow’s feet.

  The sound echoed off the trees as the smoke drifted away on the breeze. The bravos looked up in fright from where they crouched on the ground.

  Calling Crow looked at the dead bear and then at the three Spanish. With their pale skin and sunken eyes, they looked bird-like. The one with the shooting stick was short of height and had a nose as long and sharp as the flint knife Calling Crow still held in his outstretched hand. The one who appeared to be their leader was Calling Crow’s size and medium of build, with small delicate features. The third man was taller than Calling Crow, but thin and sickly looking. He too had a long pointed nose and the skin on his neck hung down like a turkey’s comb.

  The man who was their leader loo
ked into Calling Crow’s eyes and spoke. His words were like the honking of geese and Calling Crow could not understand him.

  Calling Crow addressed him in Spanish. “What crazy talk is this?” he said. “I cannot understand you.”

  The man turned to his companion. “Il parle espanol!”

  “Mon Dieu!” said the little man.

  “Oui,” said the leader. He turned to Calling Crow. “Se habla espanol?”

  “Si,” said Calling Crow. “Poco.”

  “Como se llama?”

  “I am called Calling Crow. What are you called?”

  “Jacques,” the man said. He smiled and pointed to his companions, “Jean Michel and Gaspar.”

  Black Snake and the others were getting to their feet. They moved closer as they watched Calling Crow converse with the strange white people.

  “How did you come to learn Spanish?” asked Jacques as he looked over at the bravos.

  “It is of no importance,” said Calling Crow. He was confused by these new people and their strange language. Where did they come from, he wondered, and what sort of threat would they pose for the Coosa?

  Calling Crow pointed to the huge carcass of Half Foot. “I must thank the bear’s spirit.” Calling Crow knelt and said a quick prayer assuring the bear that he was not of the same clan and that, therefore, the bear would be able to come back to the world at some future time.

  Calling Crow got to his feet and faced the three men. “Thank you,” he said to Jacques. “The bear was intent on punishing me for the many arrows we put into him.”

  “Oh, you are welcome.” Jacques forced a laugh, but Calling Crow sensed hostility in the man.

  Jacques spoke his own language as he interpreted his exchange with Calling Crow for his companions.

  Calling Crow glanced backward at Black Snake and the others, who still stood off, too suspicious to come closer. He looked at Jacques. “I will give you one of the hind quarters for your help in killing the bear.”