Scarlet Plume, Second Edition by Frederick Manfred Read Free Book Online Page A

from Judith. “The Lord does provide, doesn’t he?”
    “But that’s just it, Theodosia. It’s not a goose at all. It’s a wild swan.”
    “So it is.”
    “With a broken neck. See?” Judith described how Scarlet Plume had suddenly appeared in the doorway, how he had for a moment wept tears, how then without a word he had tossed the wild swan under the table. And disappeared.
    At that, the serene expression slowly left Theodosia’s face. She looked down at the wild swan in her hands. “A broken neck then.”
    “Yes. That means something, doesn’t it? A sign of some sort?”
    “Yes. It is a message. We had better call Claude.”
    “What does the sign say?”
    “It means,” Theodosia said, “‘The white man must fly or his neck will be broken.’”
    Both women looked at each other. Both immediately thought of the Spirit Lake massacre. Theodosia’s hazel eyes momentarily filmed over, and darkened with disappointment; Judith’s blue eyes opened high and wide, and turned an almost hailstone gray. Theodosia stood calm and resigned, and her rustling black dress slowly fell silent. Judith swelled and rose, so that her gray skirt lifted off the floor a little.
    Theodosia said, “May the Lord be with us in this time of extremity.”
    Judith said, “Hadn’t we better warn the other settlers?”
    “Of course.”
    Even as they talked, the sound of wild galloping came to them.
    Both women hurried outdoors.
    It was Billy Vikes, bachelor. He lived in a sod shanty on the north point of the lake. He was riding a gray workhorse. The gray’s harness had slid down and it dragged along on the ground. The skin over Vikes’s cheeks resembled soot-mottled snow. The whites of his eyes showed stark.
    Vikes had trouble talking. “Henry Christians. He’s . . .” Vikes’s teeth chattered like little gourds rattled together. “He’s . . .”
    “Yes? What is it? What about him?”
    “He’s . . . He’s . . .” Vikes sucked quick shallow breaths. “Poor Henry.”
    Theodosia tottered a little. But her voice was calm. “Speak up, man. What about him?”
    Vikes bit his teeth tight together for a moment to stop the chattering. Then he managed it. “I just found Henry Christians murdered on his front doorstep.” Again Vikes had to bite down the chatters. “He was hit in the chest and scalped.”
    Again Theodosia tottered. “May the Lord have mercy on his soul. And his wife?”
    “I don’t know. I didn’t see her anywheres.”
    Judith thought, “Dear God, Scarlet Plume’s sign came too late for poor Henry. The Indians must have struck quicker than even Scarlet Plume expected.” Judith shivered. “And they picked Henry off first because the Christianses live alone on that neck of land in the middle of the lake there.”
    Judith glanced over at Whitebone’s village.
    All seemed calm enough over there. The little children were playing in the deep grass, the squaws were out airing the buffalo-fur bedding, the braves were sitting in the morning sun, smoking and gossiping.
    “It must be those renegade Indians living on the other side of the lake then,” Judith said. “Mad Bear’s band.”
    “Yes.” Theodosia nodded. “It’s just come to me.”
    “Or else some of the wilder ones from Pounce’s band. From over the hill there by the mission church.” Judith pointed toward a rise in the land which separated Whitebone’s camp from Pounce’s camp.
    “But that can’t be,” Theodosia said. “Pounce and his group are all members of our church. They’re friendlies. You know that. You’ve been teaching their children.”
    “I know. But I never did trust that scheming Pounce. Nor those lazy converts of his. They’re candidate backsliders if I ever saw any.”
    “They’re not lazy. They’ve learned to farm a little.” Theodosia stood quite still. “Let’s hope it’s only a pet of some sort the Indians have fallen into, that it will soon pass away.”
    Both Vikes and his horse stood puffing