Sweet Savage Surrender by Kathryn Hockett Page B

brightly painted and decorated horses , galloping away from the village.  They would be away  hunting   for  the buffalo herds for three days or more as part of the ceremony.  As he galloped past her , Lone Wolf bent low and touched Skyraven's forehead with the tip of his feathers.  It was the beginning of what she had sensed was inevitable.  But how was she going to graciously deny him without causing ill will?  Though at times the handsome brave annoyed her with his arrogance, his father was a man she deeply respec ted and didn't want to anger.
    Oh, if only I were already spoken for , she thought.   The whiteman's visage intruded once again into her mind, dressed in the same ceremonial dress as Lone Wolf had worn.  A foolish dream.  He was a soldier, she scolded herself.  As far away from being an Indian as the earth was from the moon.  His kind scorned Indians.  Hadn't such words passed f rom his lips? He would never even look twice at an Indian girl.  She must not allow her thoughts to indulge in silly visions.  Truth was truth.  He was white and she, though sharing white blood, was in spirit and manner of living an Indian.  And as such she would take an India n husband.  But not Lone Wolf!
    Skyraven watched as Lone Wolf's departing form became smaller and smaller, feeling a sense of relief that he would be gone for a time.  It had been her concern that somehow he might learn about the whiteman and cause trouble.  But for the moment he would be elsewhere occupied. 
    The br aves were well on their way, and   the male children and the Indian maids who wished to attract the departing warriors' attention, followed after the retreating horsemen. With all the excitement going on, now was the time for Skyraven to slip away.  She left the circle of dancers and returned to her own lodge just long enough to reach inside the front flap for the moccasins and robes she had placed there earlier.   She was so anxious  to return to the stranger that she did not notice the dark brooding eyes watching her as she filled a leather pouch with meat and vegeta bles before leaving  the camp.
    "So"  murmured Whispering Wind, noting Skyraven's actions, “ she has something very important going on during the night.  Something that requires new moccasins and two robes."   The figure in the shadows smiled a cruel, calculating smile.  Those moccasins were too lar ge for Skyraven's small feet, n or did a woman take such care with her grooming unless a man was in her thoughts.  Was it possible that Skyraven planned a meeting with one of the braves left behind?  How she hoped that was what was planned.  Lone Wolf would be deeply angered to find himself second in Skyraven's thoughts.
    Whispering Wind wanted no more dancing now that Lone Wolf  had galloped away.  She had more important things on her mind as she left the Indian women.  She could hardly believe how quickly Skyraven had dared to act, and yet, even now, Skyraven walked rapidly toward the outskirts of the camp. Perhaps  before returning to her own lodge, Whispering Wind would find out  just where  Skyraven was going and why.
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    The evening air was becoming somewhat chilly, awakening John Hanlen  from his deep slumber.  He opened his eyes slowly, expecting full well to be within his camp tent , but instead he found himself surrounded by dirt and rock.   Dear God!  He was entombed within the earth. At first he did not know where he was.  His heart quickened as he lifted himself up on his elbow and glanced around at his surroundings.  A cave!  His eyes darted back and forth across the small opening as he remembered.  A chill ran up his back as he realized how close he had come to death.
    The Indian girl, where was she?  Clenching his jaw he tried to remember.  She had spoken of a ceremony, h ad told him to wait for her here.  She was coming back, or so she had said.  Trust me , he remembered her telling him.  Trust an