Lame Bird's Legacy by Dan Strawn

Author:Dan Strawn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1877, american indian, nez pierce, red indian
Publisher: Bluewood Publishing

Chapter 8

Trooper Ramsey’s Vision

July, 1877

Isaac didn’t know what compelled him to open his eyes, and when he did, he was obliged to peer through the haze brought on by his miserable condition. On top of the tormented nerves that sent searing messages from his lower body to his brain, he discovered new sources of difficulty when he raised his head to look about. His right shoulder resisted – warned his head to tell his body to lie still. He winced, lifted his head ever so slowly, ignored the shoulder pain, and forced himself to see where the noise was coming from. His vision was distorted, like looking through the glass pieces of a kaleidoscope. He could make out colors and light, even movement. But his tortured mind couldn’t put the fragments together. He shut his eyes, opened them slightly – squinted at the amorphous movement below his feet. The result was only a little better. He recognized shapes and forms, although the distortion confused him. Rather than peering through a kaleidoscope, a prism, defined his reality, put the shapes where the sound said they weren’t, imbued them in a rainbow of primary hues, flattened the torso, shortened the limbs. He closed his eyes, opened them again. Things looked better. The movement, more distinct now, lined up with the sounds.

Gradually his mind interpreted the juxtaposition of the noise and the image. The Indian was cutting the last of Isaac’s bridle off the bit. The bridle and the bit brought up the image of his horse – the sudden spill, the dangling foreleg, the prostrate body seeping crimson into the dirt. They all rushed into Isaac’s mind. But the logical pieces, like the visual images of the last few seconds, just didn’t meld, didn’t present a cohesive whole, even though he could think and see clearly now.

Isaac studied his captor. He was young, maybe even as young as Isaac. The Indian seemed to sense his scrutiny. He turned and faced Isaac. His braids hung in semi-disarray over his chest and framed a beaded leather pendant that hung from rawhide tied around his neck. Isaac’s eyes were drawn to that pendant. He saw now it was more than beads. Feathers and grasses were interlaced with the beads. The Indian studied him for a moment, then disappeared from his view.

In the Indian’s absence, Isaac perused his own situation. He was lying above the ground, his head a foot or so higher than his feet. He tried to move, realized he had been tied or strapped so movement was all but impossible. Wincing, he forced his head up. All he could see was sky. He looked down at his feet, saw his right leg, still slightly askew from where it should be, lashed to two pieces of branch by a leather strap – his reins. His upper torso was bound to some kind of frame by what looked like the tether he had brought to stake out his horse. Isaac looked on the side of his legs, saw that he lay on a horsehide stretched between two poles.

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