Forever Young Birth Of A Nation (55 page)

Startled, they all arose and reached for
their weapons, forming up and advancing warily toward him. One
stood forth, a middle aged man likely the leader of the group. “Who
is it that seeks us?”

“I am Night Stalker of the people of Tall
Elk.”

“We know of you, Night Stalker. I see no one
with you. Could Tall Elk not send braves?”

“Fourteen follow me and will come here. I go
to track the war party.”

“We will go with you soon, when we are
rested.”

“I go alone. You are too slow.”

“You boast at a time like this?”

Ian ran laterally across the clearing to the
far end, but only a bit faster than a galloping horse so as not to
scare them too badly. Stopping at the southern end of the clearing
he turned and said “All who come with me must run like that until
the sun sets. And after that, I go on alone.”

The braves looked with astonishment at each
other and at him, saying nothing. He walked to them then and
stopped, saying “I go then. I will mark their path across rocky
places and streams. Rain comes tonight and it will be harder to
find them after that. If they divide themselves, I will mark both
paths, but I will mark my path with this” he said as he drew his
long bone-handled hunting knife and handed it to the brave. Then he
said “If I find the Shawnee, I may mark my trail with their
bodies.”

Handing his knife back the brave nodded,
saying “You will leave bodies without having weapons?”

Ian smiled and drew his short sword from
between his shoulders at vampire speed to a loud exclamation of
wonder by all of them. Sheathing it very rapidly with a practiced
motion he said “I go to seek what was stolen, not to spill blood. I
leave vengeance to you.”

Raising his hand in farewell, he spun
rapidly and ran faster than a horse into the forest, following the
trail. As soon as he was out of sight of them, he ran at vampire
speed, rocketing southward, consuming the miles as if they were
nothing, and marking his trail as he went.

He came to a very broad rocky table then,
and cast about, seeking a sign. Finally he spied a patch of Lichen
scraped from the rock surface and bounded off that way until he was
able to find clear sign in the softer floor of the forest.
Backtracking at vampire speed he gathered stones rapidly and placed
them on the ground to form an arrow pointing to where the trail
resumed. Then he rocketed to the edge of the rocky area and
carefully examined all of the ground along its southern edge where
the heavier forest growth resumed. Satisfied that the group had not
divided itself here, he took up the trail, marking it well as he
rocketed southward, leaping gullies and bounding over fallen tree
trunks with his keen vampire eyes alternating between the trail and
his surroundings.

The distant sound of a waterfall reached his
ears and soon enough he followed the trail to a ravine with a
stream about thirty feet wide coursing along its floor. To the
east, it disappeared over a waterfall, and looking west, the ravine
extended beyond his sight. Carefully he trotted along the edge of
the ravine looking for the trail. He back tracked and looked the
other way going toward the falls until he found their trail
stopping abruptly at the edge. Peering over the edge he saw a large
tree trunk lying skewed on the rocks far below, part of it in the
stream itself. It had been a log bridge and they had rolled it into
the ravine to slow any pursuers. Ian studied the site briefly,
thinking
this thing is well over one hundred feet deep. I had
best make them a bridge of some sort.

Spinning rapidly he backtracked to a poplar
grove some three hundred feet and drawing his sword he soon had six
poplar trees down, each around eight inches diameter. Rapidly
trimming them he dragged them at vampire speed to the ravine and
soon had all six of them spanning the chasm, three with their base
on his side and three with their base on the other side to make for
a nice foot bridge. Rapidly he ran back and hacked down two hickory
saplings, cutting them to make four stakes which he sharpened at
vampire speed.

Driving those into the ground adjacent to
the logs with a large stone he was able to stabilize them. Leaping
easily across the thirty foot chasm he did the same on the other
side. Rapidly he ran across his bridge and back, satisfied that it
was safe. Now whoever followed him could stay on the trail without
a lengthy detour. He regretted the half-hour he lost, but thought
it best because the captives would need care when they were
recovered. Hoping that the war party would slow down, he was off
again, marking the trail as he rocketed through the forest.
Maybe they will feel safer now having crossed that large rock
table and this ravine. Will that be enough to persuade them to stop
and make camp?

Eyeing the sky to the west and northwest, he
could easily see that it would rain that night, if not sooner.
Shortly before dusk he arrived at another river, hearing it before
it was in sight. Thinking they might camp there he slowed and began
to carefully approach the riverbank. Paralleling the stream he
moved westward stealthily, staying some two hundred feet from it.
After about a quarter mile he saw what appeared to be a natural
ford and beyond that, his keen eyes detected smoke, albeit very
little. They were burning deadwood to keep the smoke from being
visible, and the fire was beneath a dense canopy of hardwood trees
which would scatter it as it rose.

Moving northward somewhat, he came abreast
of the fire and saw that a sizable war party was here, maybe thirty
braves more or less, and that they were camped on the south side of
the river. The hostages were not yet visible so Ian kept gliding
through the forest like a shadow in the dusk. He noticed a steady
draft of cool air coming from the north when he paused, where he
was at the base of a very low rocky bluff. Turning aside to
investigate he parted a laurel thicket at the base of the bluff and
discovered a sizeable cave that likely the war party had not even
seen. The entrance was hidden behind the laurel bushes and if
anyone was standing on the low bluff above it they would not even
know that a cave lay at their feet. That it extended some distance
to another opening somewhere was evident from the cool air that
came out of the entrance.

Darkness fell then and still he warily
circled the large camp, searching for a sign of the hostages. Going
upstream, he silently leapt the forty foot span of the stream and
melted into the forest, turning toward the camp. Circling
southward, away from the river he finally came across the place
where the hostages were secured, settling down to watch a while.
Crickets and cicadas sang, seeming to be telling each other about
the thunder muttering in the distance.

Satisfied that no guards were nearby, he got
up and began to glide stealthily to their perimeter. Selecting a
woman who was furthest away from the center of the group, he
slipped up behind her and instantly clamped his hand over her
mouth, whispering in her ear in the Iroquois tongue “Be silent. I
have come to free you. I am going to cut your bonds and give you my
knife. Nod your head if you understand.”

She nodded, rolling her eyes to try to see
him. Quickly he cut the rawhide straps binding her and handed her
his knife, smiling. Then he bent to her ear whispering “Do as I
just did and I will do the same. Have each one go to that big tree
over there and wait for me.” He pointed to a very large White Oak
looming in the darkness some sixty feet distant. She nodded and the
two began to free prisoners then, one by one.

Over the next few minutes they had freed
fourteen then, being ten young women and four female children. Ian
could see no more, but two guards lounged against a rock not more
than forty feet from a campfire. A second larger campfire was
closer to the river and there were an indeterminate number there,
eating and talking. Thinking that they would feed the prisoners
last, Ian wanted badly to slip away before they turned to that
task.

Silently he beckoned and the group made
their way to the big Oak tree. Just beyond it Ian pointed upstream
to a place and told the woman with his knife to lead the group
there. By now the thunder had gotten noticeably closer and
lightning flashes were no longer over the horizon, but were now
nearly overhead. Ian quickly flashed back to where the hostages had
been, looking for any blankets or possibly any water skins. Finding
three blankets he rolled them up and had stood to leave when a
lightning bolt flashed just in time to completely illuminate the
camp. The nearest guard some thirty feet distant had stood up to
urinate and just happened to be looking Ian’s direction at that
instant, and saw him standing alone where all of the prisoners had
been.

Before he could give an alarm, Ian had
rocketed across the space and grabbing his head he twisted it
completely around, breaking his neck. Silently he bounded away with
the body over his shoulder, leaving it beyond the big Oak tree. In
seconds he was with his group and whispered “We all have to cross
the stream here. Whoever can swim, cross now and hide on the far
side. I will carry the others across.” Seven of the women entered
the water then and began to swim across as the storm neared. The
noise of its approach masked much of the sound of the swimming as
the squall line drew near.

Ian took the oldest of the four children and
bounded away a bit and then leapt across the river. Setting the
child down, he pointed to some laurel bushes and said “Hide there.”
As the first of the women emerged from the water he pointed to the
bushes and whirled, running upstream just far enough that they
couldn’t see him jump the stream.

In minutes he had gotten all but the last
adult woman across and as he leapt across with her, a lightning
flash illuminated the entire area and the ones waiting in the
bushes saw him in midair with the young woman in his arms. Landing
he darted to the others saying in a low voice “Come quickly now.
There is a cave nearby. Hurry now and be silent. Quickly!”

As he led them to the cave entrance it began
to rain just slightly and lightning rained down in rapid succession
as the full fury of the storm had nearly reached them. Even with
the sound of the wind rising, Ian clearly heard a cry of alarm from
the camp as someone realized their prisoners were gone. Lightning
illuminated the camp, revealing a swarm of braves picking up
weapons and running helter-skelter looking for their prisoners
while shouting at each other. Before any could look their direction
however, the last woman had entered the cave.

Ian came in and squatted in the entrance,
peering out into the downpour at the chaos in the camp, barely two
hundred feet away. The scene was lit sporadically by lightning
flashes and punctuated by deafening thunderclaps, revealing an
estimated thirty braves more or less still running about, but
spreading away from the campfires now burning lower due to the
downpour. By now four had crossed the ford and dividing into two
pairs, they began to search up and down the riverbank for a fresh
trail. They passed by the cave shortly, but were easily forty feet
distant from it, staying along the bank looking for tracks. Ian
wondered if the rain would obliterate their tracks before the two
braves could see them. It would be hard to miss their trail, being
so many of them had come ashore in one place. Silently he drew his
sword and glided out into the downpour, concealing himself behind a
tree trunk as he watched their movements.

One stopped and peered at the ground,
calling to the other. They stooped in the downpour then, both
staring at the ground while waiting for the next flash of lightning
to illuminate what one thought he had seen. Ian glided toward them,
sword in hand and had gotten to within only ten feet when a
lightning bolt flashed, lasting several seconds and clearly
illuminating their tracks. The two exclaimed “here” as they turned
to start for the cave. Another lightning bolt illuminated a figure
standing in their path with eyes that glowed a frosty blue color.
In an instant both were decapitated in full view of those in the
cave.

Quickly Ian grabbed one and bounded to the
river, sliding him into the water and pushing the corpse out into
the current. In only seconds his dead companion had joined him.
Taking each of their heads in a hand, Ian leapt the stream just as
a lightning bolt illuminated him at midpoint for all in the cave to
see.

In the cave most of the women gasped audibly
and two cried out at the sight of Ian high over the river in
mid-air, holding two severed heads.

Landing he melted into the blackness of the
forest. The women in the cave began to talk to each other in
agitated voices. The one who Ian had freed first said in a low
voice “Be silent. Night Stalker is a great warrior of Tall Elk’s
people. He will not harm us.”

In the darkness he quickly leapt into the
center of the camp and waited for the lightning to come again. For
some two minutes he stood there with the two heads in his hands
waiting in the downpour until suddenly lightning flashed brightly,
illuminating the place for some ten seconds as he cried in a loud
voice “I am Night Stalker of the Seneca. Death to the Shawnee!” As
he shouted many turned to see him standing in their midst, eyes
aglow and holding two severed heads aloft. Just after the lighting
had passed, he dropped the two heads and leaped out of their midst
heading away from the river. Many with spears and tomahawks raised
rushed to where he had just been standing and found only two
severed heads lying on the ground, staring sightlessly at the
flickering lightning raining from the stormy sky. Ian darted about
in the darkness, gathering any blankets he could find that were
still rolled tightly. Fear and dread began to fall upon the braves
then as they looked about, each wondering if the demon with the
glowing eyes would lift their head next.