Fear Weaver by David Thompson Read Free Book Online

two by Byron in that library of yours.”
    Nate grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
    The pass widened, and they were out of it. Below spread a spectacular panorama of peaks and valleys. Mountains so high, they plunged many of the valleys in near perpetual shadow. Mile after wild mile of country left largely untouched by the hand of man since the dawn of creation. The vast unknown, literal and true. Gazing out over it gave Nate King arare ripple of goose bumps. He couldn’t say why but he felt a sudden unease.
    “Your precious Sully couldn’t have picked a more godforsaken spot,” Ryker said to Peter and Erleen.
    “He wanted somewhere where there was plenty of game,” Erleen said.
    “His own Garden of Eden, as he liked to call it,” Peter added.
    Ryker shifted in the saddle toward Nate. “Well, Blackfoot lover? You have been here and I haven’t. Which way? West? Southwest? Northwest? Where is that sandstone cliff Sully mentioned?”
    “Southwest,” Nate said after some hesitation.
    “Oh, hell. You don’t remember it all that well, do you? We could end up searching for a month of damn Sundays and not find the jackass.”
    Erleen bristled. “Mr. Ryker! I will ask you for the final time to curb that cursing of yours. Must I constantly remind you there are children present?”
    Ryker gestured at the spectacular sweep of majesty and mystery below the divide. “Lady, do you see that down there? Do you have any idea what we are in for? Because I promise you that before this is done, my cussing will be the least of your worries.”
    Nate didn’t say anything. Ryker was right. It could be none of them would get out of there alive.

Horror
    One lock was not enough.
    Black Elk thought it would be. But after he held the wonderful yellow curls in his hand and felt how soft the hair was and marveled at how the sunlight turned the yellow to gold, he wasn’t content. He wanted more than one lock. He wanted the whole head, and the girl that went with the head.
    The others listened to his appeal, but Black Elk could tell Mad Wolf was the only other one as eager to continue tracking the girl. Mad Wolf was always eager to kill whites. Mad Wolf was always eager to kill anything.
    “I say we let them go,” Small Otter declared. “They gave you the hair you asked for. To kill them now would be bad medicine.”
    “You see bad medicine in everything,” Black Elk said. “If a cloud passes in front of the sun, to you that is bad medicine.”
    Mad Wolf and Double Walker smiled.
    “And we will not make war on the women,” Black Elk went on. “We will not kill Golden Hair or the old one or the other two. Only the men, so we can take their guns and horses.”
    Double Walker said, “And so you can take GoldenHair, as you call her, back to our village. What will Sparrowhawk and your other wives say? You have not asked them if they want to raise this white girl as their own.”
    Black Elk grunted. He had four wives. Among the Blackfeet only a poor man had one wife. Warriors rich in horses and possessions had as many wives as they could support. The leader of their band had five. “They are my women. They will do as I say.”
    Mad Wolf grinned and said to Double Walker, “He does not want Golden Hair for a daughter. He wants her for a fifth wife.”
    “She looks young,” Double Walker said.
    “I can wait a few winters.” Black Elk could wait for as long as need be to make her his wife. No one in his band, no one in the entire tribe, had a wife like her. Several warriors had white women in their lodges but none with hair so yellow. Hers was like the sun. She must be a favorite of the sun god, he thought. She would bring good medicine to his lodge and his people. And at night, under the blankets, he could run his fingers through her hair and—he grew warm at the imagining.
    Small Otter was speaking. “There is another matter. This Grizzly Killer. His is a name we all have heard. He is white but he is Shoshone. It is said