Savage Betrayal (28 page)

Precious Copper ran for the canoe, never looking back. She managed to get the canoe into the water and was just pushing it into the waves when strong arms plucked her off the canoe and threw her onto the beach. Landing on her back, she scrambled quickly to her feet, again grabbing handfuls of rocks as weapons.

The two men were by now extremely wary of her. They held a hasty conference. “You take that side. I’ll take this one. When I give the signal, tackle her,” said Grizzly Crusher in his own language.

Precious Copper smile grimly. Let the fools think she didn’t understand their language. How were they to know that her grandmother had been Kwakiutl? Precious Copper had heard Kwakiutl spoken since she was a child.

Despite knowing they were going to rush her, when it happened she was caught off guard. All three of them went down in a heap onto the hard pebbled beach. Precious Copper clawed fiercely with her sharp nails at any arm or leg or torso she could find. She was rewarded by many yelps of pain and angry growls. Inevitably, however, she was subdued.

Panting, Grizzly Crusher stared at her as Devours Men held her wrists behind her back with one hand. The other encircled her waist, effectively reducing her struggles.

Chest heaving, eyes flashing, body taut, she continued to fight as best she could. Gradually, her frenzied efforts weakened and she ceased her struggling. Even then, she defiantly spat at Grizzly Crusher. He smiled cruelly at her and sauntered over to fondle her breasts. He pinched one and Precious Copper struggled frantically to get away from his reach.

“She’s very pretty,” observed Grizzly Crusher. “She should fetch a great deal when we trade her—later. After we’ve had our fun.” He leered at her.

Grizzly Crusher continued to play with her breasts. Precious Copper, seeing him relax, lunged for his bare arm and sank her teeth into it. She clamped her jaws shut until they ached. With a loud yell, Grizzly Crusher grabbed one of her braids and yanked viciously to make her let go. Fearing he’d rip her scalp off, Precious Copper released her grip on his arm. Furious, he raised his arm to slap her, but Devours Men swung her, still struggling, out of the way.

Devours Men was having difficulty holding her. “One blow from you and she’ll be dead,” he panted. “You’re not going to ruin my fun with your bad temper.”

“My bad temper!” growled the still-furious Grizzly Crusher. “She deserves punishment. Look at my arm!”

Precious Copper was pleased to see she had drawn blood. She smiled into his face, relishing his pain, then renewed her struggling.

“Female bear,” he muttered, “I’ll show you--!”

“Let’s get her back to camp,” interrupted Devours Men.

“What?” asked Grizzly Crusher in surprise. “Don’t you want to have her here?”

Devours Men shook his head. “No,” he answered ruefully, “I’m too tired. And she’s too mean.”

Grizzly Crusher burst out laughing. “A fine warrior you are,” he chortled. “Worn out by a mere woman’s struggles!”

“If you think she’s so easy to hold, why don’t you hold her then?” retorted Devours Men angrily.

Grizzly Crusher just shook his head, laughing, and started back on the trail to their camp. Devours Men followed, pushing the reluctant Precious Copper in front of him. All the way back to camp, they were treated to Grizzly Crusher’s jokes about the softness of some warriors these days, and of how certain warriors should stay at home with the women and children. It was when Grizzly Crusher began to cast doubts on Devours Men’s masculinity that he was angrily growled into silence. After that, the walk through the forest was quiet.

Precious Copper’s legs felt weak under her, from all the struggling she had done. She stumbled along the trail, dreading what was surely to take place once they arrived at camp. She didn’t know how many men were there, but she doubted she‘d survive what they had planned. Still, she would go down fighting. She was the daughter of a war chief and the sister of a war chief and she had proud blood in her veins.

All too soon, the trail ended, and they burst onto the beach. Grizzly Crusher and Devours Men let out triumphant war yells as they approached the three men sitting around the fire.

“Look what we found!” cried Devours Men enthusiastically. He shoved Precious Copper into the circle of light thrown by the campfire. The other men exclaimed in delight.

“A spirit woman of the woods,” joked Cannibal. “Let me see her.” He walked up to Precious Copper and gripped her arm. “Tasty little morsel, isn’t she?” he asked the others.

“No, Cannibal! She’s not for eating! Can’t you ever get you mind off food?” exclaimed Grizzly Crusher, exasperated. “You’re not going to eat this slave. She’s ours to play with,” he clarified for the others.

Their conversation made perfect sense to Precious Copper who knew some Kwakiutl did indeed cannibalize their victims. She decided there was no advantage in hiding her knowledge of their language any longer, especially since she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape them.

“Kwakiutl snakes!” she spat. “My brother will kill you for this!”

“Oho! The lady knows how to speak. I thought she only knew that Nootka gibberish,” observed Devours Men. Then, playing the part of host, he turned to the others and said. “Who wants to go first?”

A chorus of lusty cries greeted his question and Grizzly Crusher finally had to shout to gain silence. “Enough!” he bellowed. “I’m the leader here, I’ll go first.”

The others growled sullenly at this announcement. “You, Man Hunter, take her arms. Cannibal, her legs. Hold her down.”

“I still say we should eat her,” grumbled Cannibal as he went to do as bid.

“Later,” answered a now excited Grizzly Crusher.

If things weren’t so desperate, Precious Copper would have laughed. She couldn’t believe her life was going to end like this, with these vicious, unfeeling, bumbling fools. Instead, she began to scream as loudly as she could. She kicked and scratched and fought. She writhed and twisted.

“She’s so little. Where does she get all that strength?” marveled Devours Men. She struck out at them with arms, legs, teeth, nails, anything she could. She screamed continuously.

“Shut her up,” ordered Grizzly Crusher. “I can’t stand that noise she’s making!”

“What’s the matter? Can’t get it up?” taunted Devours Men.

In anger and frustration, Grizzly Crusher grabbed a burning brand from the fire and thrust it a mere hand span away from Precious Copper’s face. She froze immediately.

“That’s better. Lie still or I’ll burn your face!"

Seeing the fire in front of her, feeling its heat, Precious Copper went limp. She’d done all she could. She could fight no more.

Once he had the guns, it had been easy to recruit the warriors, mused Feast Giver. He looked at his men, all young men in their prime, all well-armed with bows, arrows and daggers. And best of all, stacked carefully on the floor of the war canoe, sitting on a raised dais of cedar mats so they would stay dry, were the valuable mus-kets.

He had ten good men. Men who had been absent or away fishing when his enemy, Fighting Wolf, had struck such a devastating blow to his people. And the men were well-armed. Feast Giver had seen to that. Never again would he be caught off guard, never again so trusting, he vowed, eyes narrowing.

He stopped paddling, letting his hand trail in the cool water. It was one of his favorite times of the day. Dusk was approaching and the sun was setting in one last burst of color before it sank into the sea. “It’s getting dark,” he said to his men. “Time to find a place to camp. We’re close to Ahousat territory, but we’ll risk it. We need a base before we scout out the village.”

He noted the nods of assent in the growing darkness. They had paddled the whole day. The men were tired, but glad to be doing something to avenge their tribe’s name. Tomorrow they would find Sarita and rescue her from the Ahousats.

Feast Giver sat up suddenly, seeing a light glowing off in the darkness. The faint outline of an island could barely be discerned in the dusk. “There, what’s that?” he asked, pointing to the orange flicker against the island’s darker shadow.

A warrior known for his keen eyes responded, “A campfire.”

“Can you see anything else?” questioned Feast Giver eagerly. “Can you see how many people there are?”

“Too far away to tell,” came the quick response. “Need to get closer.”

Signaling his men to be cautious, Feast Giver silently paddled forward. So quiet were they, that they were able to get very close. They followed the rocky shore, keeping close to a rocky point, and blending in with the darker shadow of rock. It was almost dark by now and Feast Giver hoped the campers would not be looking out to sea.

“Looks like four, no five, men,” breathed the scout in Feast Giver’s ear. “They seem be standing around something or someone.”

Just then a sharp scream rent the air. “A woman’s scream,” said Feast Giver softly. ”What—?”

“Looks like they’re throwing her down onto the beach,” whispered the scout. “She’s struggling, hard.”

At Feast Giver’s silent signal, the men paddled quietly to shore. So far no alarm had been raised.

Feast Giver knew there was little likelihood that the screaming woman was Sarita. Still, it was obviously some defenseless woman in need of help. His men had been spoiling for a fight. Why not give it to them?

One of the Hesquiats commented quietly, “That looks like a Kwakiutl-style canoe.” He pointed to a beached craft. Feast Giver nodded. This made the game more exciting. The Kwakiutl were formidable opponents!

He whispered his plan of attack, and saw the understanding nods. The warriors silently paddled closer to where the rocks met the beach. One warrior got out of the canoe and crouched on the rocks, holding the canoe while the others quietly disembarked. Quickly tying a cedar rope from the bow of the canoe to an overhanging tree branch, he took up his bow and arrows and followed the others.

Sneaking up on the Kwakiutl was easy. The enemy was far too distracted by the screaming, struggling woman. Feast Giver saw the largest man pick up a flaming torch and wave it menacingly in front of the woman. Whoever she was, she was putting up a lot of resistance.

“Now!” he yelled, breaking into a full-throated Hesquiat war cry. Arrows of death flew through the air, and several found their mark. Three of the Kwakiutl crumpled to the beach. The remaining two whirled to face the intruders and at the same time grabbed for their knives. Hopelessly outnumbered, Grizzly Crusher and Devours Men cockily went into a fighting stance, back to back, as the ten Hesquiat warriors rushed to surround them.

The Hesquiats grinned at each other as they waved their sharp daggers menacingly at the Kwakiutl. Aware they were being toyed with, the outnumbered Kwakiutl each chose a man and lunged for their opponent, preferring a quick death. The Hesquiats swarmed over them. In seconds it was over. The last Kwakiutl lay dead on the beach.

The victors wasted little time cutting off the heads of their dead foes to take back for trophies. One held up the grisly cap of scalps that Devours Men had adorned himself with. Grinning, the warrior swung the cap vigorously and gave a victorious yell. Several of the Hesquiat warriors busily wiped their bloody knife blades clean on the victim’s bodies. Pleased with the easy victory, they now turned their attention to the lone woman.

Precious Copper had been prepared for the worst from her Kwakiutl captors, when suddenly an unfamiliar war cry pierced the silence. Her arms and feet were unceremoniously dropped. She was startled when three of her enemies collapsed to the ground beside her and lay unmoving. Then she saw the arrows protruding from their backs. Realizing her captors were under attack, she stayed still, not wanting to be hit by stray arrows. A short while later, the deadly shower of arrows ceased, so she reached for her torn kutsack and pulled it on. Her cedar cloak was in shreds, but she put that on, too.

Precious Copper tried to get shakily to her feet, but her knees buckled. Her trembling legs could not support her weight. Finally, after several attempts she got to her feet. Still feeling weak, she squatted on her heels to watch the two hated Kwakiutls battle for their lives. Although she knew she was still in danger from the newcomers, she felt a great deal of satisfaction watching her previous tormentors fight for their lives. Elated, she watched breathlessly as they were quickly dispatched. But then she stood transfixed in horror as her rescuers decapitated their victims. For a moment she felt faint, then rallied. She would need all her wits about her to face the newcomers. Standing straight in her ragged clothing, she waited stoically for whatever was to happen next.

A tall, light-skinned man of proud bearing approached. Obviously the leader, he was extremely handsome. His unusually-colored dark brown hair curled down to his shoulders, held in place by a band of twisted cedar bark at the forehead. His eyes were a sparkling ebony, reflecting the firelight. Around his waist he wore several daggers and carried his bow over one shoulder. Dressed in the yellow kutsack of the upper class, he did indeed present a noble figure.

Feast Giver approached the small woman slowly, not wanting to scare her. Even in her torn and ragged clothing, he could see she was beautiful. Her long black hair hung in two heavy braids on either side of her small, well-shaped head. Sparkling black eyes observed him fearlessly from beneath delicately arched brows. A high forehead gave her a look of intelligence. The finely shaped lips compressed in a straight line were not trembling, he noted.

Before he could say anything to her she spoke, quietly and with dignity.

“What do you plan to do with me?” Precious Copper preferred to know the worst, immediately.

Taken aback, Feast Giver answered, “Why, you’re free to return to your people. We have no wish to detain you.”

She sagged in relief that they did not intend to take her captive, too. “My sincere thanks, noble sir,” she answered weakly. “Thank you for rescuing me from those Kwakiutls. They captured me on the other side of the island and dragged me here.”

Feast Giver answered politely, “My pleasure. Are you injured? Can I help you in any way?” He could see little by firelight, but surmised she may have been hurt.