Moccasin Track by Reid Lance Rosenthal

Author:Reid Lance Rosenthal [Rosenthal, Reid Lance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rockin' SR Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MOCCASIN TRACK

August 3, 1855

Inside their tipi, five hundred six miles east of where Black Feather lay pierced by Yamparika arrows, Eagle Talon studied Walks With Moon’s smile as she handed a gourd filled with pemmican to him. With his fingers, he lifted a large bite to his mouth. His wife, pestle in hand, was intent on grinding chokecherries and jerked meat, but the wind pressing in on the hide walls of the tipi made her nervous as the leather scraped against the lodge poles in gust-driven bulges, portending a coming storm.

“I am glad, husband, that Flying Arrow and Tracks On Rock decided to stop our travels early today and pitch the lodges.”

Chewing, his fingers clutching a second bite, Eagle Talon grunted his agreement. At the sound of Three Cougar’s voice outside the drawn tipi flap, his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. “Eagle Talon, the Council wishes to see you.”

Walks With Moon, her face drawn and eyes rounded and anxious, stopped grinding and lifted her shoulders from the bowl, the bone pestle still in her hand.

Eagle Talon swallowed and spoke. “When would they like to see me, Three Cougars?”

“Now.”

Walks With Moon sat back on her calves, one hand on the leather stretched tight over the distinct roundness of her belly. Scraping the pemmican from his fingers back into the gourd, Eagle Talon lowered his head and set his meal down.

“Tell the Council I am coming.”

There was no response from Three Cougars, just a sudden strong gust of wind that made the tipi sway, the lodge poles squealing in protest where they were lashed together at the smoke hole.

Eagle Talon knelt, leaned over and rested one hand on Walks With Moon’s knee. “I shall return shortly, my wife, and finish this fine meal.”

Walks With Moon bit her lower lip. A tear zigzagged its way over the angular rise of her cheekbone and then trickled down the side of her face.

Reaching out, Eagle Talon tenderly brushed the wet, salty track with his thumb. Walks With Moon’s eyes followed him as he rose and exited their lodge, fighting to lash the wind-drawn edges of the tipi flap closed behind him.

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