Whispers in the Wind (39 page)

“I don’t know if that will happen, Kenny. But I promise you this. The people who are adopting you will love you and give you all the care you will ever need. From what Mr. Brace told me, they are a very special couple and their heart’s desire is to help very special children such as yourself. You’re going to be very happy with them, even if I’m not around.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, if you say so.” Kenny gave his friend a lopsided grin. “But I’d still like to have you around.”

When the train had been out of Chicago about an hour, Dr. Jacob Logan entered the girls’ coach and introduced himself to Laura Stanfield, Tabitha Conlan, and Nurse Rachel Wolford. He told Rachel if anything should happen between here and Cheyenne where she needed his help, to please call on him. He and his wife were in coach number two. Rachel told him she was glad he was aboard and would most certainly call on him if he was needed.

Logan then went into the boys’ coach to meet the male sponsors. Gifford Stanfield and Derek Conlan both welcomed him, saying they were glad to have him aboard. Gifford then informed him that Dane Weston had told him that he and Kenny Atwood had met the doctor and his wife just before reboarding the train.

Dr. Logan said, “I stopped in the girls’ coach and met your wives and Miss Wolford. I wanted to let them know that I’m aboard, and if they should need me, I’m at their service, and I want you to know that too.”

“We appreciate that,” said Derek.

The doctor ran his gaze through the coach, smiling at all the boys, then set his eyes on Dane and Kenny. “Mind if I talk to my new young friends for a moment?”

“Go right ahead, Doctor,” said Gifford.

Dane and Kenny both smiled brightly as Dr. Logan drew up to their seat. Dane had his arm around the little boy.

Dr. Logan said, “Dane, I want to commend you for the way you are taking care of your little friend. Looks to me like he’s in good hands.”

“Well, sir, it’s good practice for me. You see, I’m planning to become a doctor when I grow up.”

Logan’s brows rose. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, sir. I’m praying that the Lord will give me foster parents who will back me as I finish high school, then go to medical school.”

“Well, good for you. How old are you, Dane?”

“Almost sixteen, sir. I’ve wanted to be a physician and surgeon since I was younger than Kenny here. Let me show you something.”

Dane bent down and picked up his medical bag and his medical books from under the seat in front of him. “See? Here are books that I’ve read, and still read.”

Logan took them in hand, looking at one book after the other. “Well, you really are serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I sure am.”

“And where did you get that medical bag?”

“From Dr. Lee Harris. I met him when I was living on the streets of Manhattan after my parents and little brother and sister were murdered by a street gang last April. He took care of lots of street children when they needed him. He’s retired now and living in Virginia. Because of my interest in becoming a doctor, he gave me his medical bag.”

“Well, that’s really something, Dane. I’m proud of you for sticking with your dream, even though you’ve been orphaned. And something else. You said a moment ago that you’re
praying
that the Lord will give you the right kind of foster parents.”

“Yes, sir. I’m a born-again child of God, and I very much believe in prayer. God really answered prayer for me in a big way a few weeks ago, or I wouldn’t be on this train right now.”

“I’d like to hear about that some time. How long have you known the Lord?”

“Just a few months. It was Dr. Lee Harris who led me to esus.

“Wonderful! Well, I’m a born-again child of God, myself. So is my wife. We’ll have to get together and talk some while we’re on this trip.”

“That’d be fine with me, Dr. Logan. I’d like to tell you about the medical care I gave to my friends in the alley under the direction of Dr. Harris.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

The next day, Dr. Logan asked permission from Gilbert Stanfield and Derek Conlan to take Dane to his coach so he and his wife could have some time with him. Permission was gladly granted, and during the three hours Dane sat with the Logans, he gave them more details on his family’s murder, his life in the alley, and
how he was led to the Lord by Dr. Harris in the Harris home. He then told him of his arrest for killing Benny Jackson and the ultimate clearing of his name, and showed them the letter of apology from the judge and the chief of police.

Before Dane returned to the boys’ coach he asked if Dr. and Mrs. Logan would pray that the Lord would give him foster parents who would see his heartfelt desire to become a doctor, and would help him get his medical education once he had finished high school. They assured him that they would pray to that end.

The next day snow was falling heavily and was accompanied by a stiff breeze when the train pulled into Kearney, Nebraska, that afternoon. Since the weather was a problem, the orphans were taken inside the terminal building where the prospective foster parents could look them over. As many of the regular passengers looked on—including Dr. Jacob Logan and his wife—six children were chosen.

Kenny was happy that Dane was not one of them.

The next day, the train stopped in North Platte with two feet of snow on the ground, and four children were chosen. Another storm was approaching from the northwest.

When it was time to get back on the train, Dane pushed the wheelchair past a group of regular passengers. He and Kenny heard one of the men telling the other passengers about Indian trouble in western Nebraska, northeast Colorado, and southeast Wyoming. Dr. and Mrs. Logan were in the group.

Dane paused to listen, and at the same moment, Derek Conlan drew up and listened too. The man was telling the others that there was a Cheyenne chief named Black Thunder who was leading the warriors of his village in attacks on wagon trains, stagecoaches, and railroad trains that passed through that part of the country.

Dr. Logan spoke his agreement that Black Thunder and his warriors were especially vicious, adding that they had a burning
hatred toward white people and had vowed to kill as many as they could.

The conductor called for everyone to board. As Derek carried the wheelchair into the boys’ coach while Dane was carrying Kenny, he told both boys that he and the other Society sponsors had heard much about Black Thunder’s attacks on trains, but so far no orphan train had been attacked. He went on to tell them that when Black Thunder and his warriors attack a train, they gallop up beside it while it is moving and fire their rifles through the windows of the coaches and the engines cab.

“I really doubt they will do that now,” said Derek, “with so much snow on the ground and more snow obviously on the way. Trying to gallop in deep snow is too dangerous for both horses and riders.”

“I hope they don’t,” said Kenny. “I don’t want no Indians shooting at us!”

The train pulled out of North Platte, heading northwest toward Julesburg, Colorado, which was seventy miles away. Word had spread throughout the train about the Cheyenne threat under the leadership of Chief Black Thunder, and passengers were discussing it with fear-edged voices. Some of them stopped the conductor and asked him about it. He told them the weather would no doubt keep the Indians from attacking the train. Once they were in Cheyenne and beyond, they would be out of Black Thunder’s territory.

Snow began to come down heavily, driven by a fierce north wind. The train stopped at Julesburg, and because of the near-blizzard conditions, few prospective foster parents were on hand.

Two children were chosen, and soon the train pulled out and headed toward Cheyenne, which was some ninety miles away.

After a half hour, the snow quit falling and only the wind was left. Within another hour, the sky was clear and the sun sent its pleasant light down on the snow-laden plains.

When they were within forty miles of Cheyenne, with almost three feet of snow on the ground and drifts piled ten feet high at some spots, the train began to slow down and finally came to a halt. Passengers, including orphans, pressed their faces to the windows of the coaches, wondering why the train had stopped.

Presently, the engineer and fireman entered the first coach and told the passengers the engine was approaching a trestle that spanned a deep gully, and they saw snow piled at least ten feet high on this end of the tresde. There was no way to tell just how far that depth of snow was on the trestle, and the engineer decided it was too dangerous to start across with the snow so deep. They had plenty of shovels in the caboose and would need the male passengers to help them remove the snow.

Every able-bodied man in the coach volunteered. It was the same in the next two coaches, and by the time the engineer and fireman reached the orphan coaches, the conductor had already advised the adults and the children of what had happened.

Conductor, fireman, and engineer went to the caboose and gathered what shovels they could carry and began distributing them in coach number three. They had a few left over, so they carried them into coach number two. Just as Dr. Logan was taking a shovel in hand, a woman in the coach pointed out a window. “Indians!”

Everyone dashed to the right side of the coach and saw a band of Cheyenne warriors slowly riding toward the train through the three-foot depth of snow.

Men dashed to the other coaches to sound the warning. Some men had guns and were preparing to defend the train against the savages.

In the orphan coaches, frightened children peered over the bottom edge of the windows and looked on wide-eyed as the band of some twenty Cheyenne warriors approached the train. Each warrior was clad in a buffalo-skin coat with fur collar.

Terror was running rampant among the passengers in the other three coaches.

In coach number two, one of the armed passenger’s looked at the engineer and said, “Shouldn’t we open the windows so we don’t splatter glass when we start shooting?”

The engineer was about to reply when Dr. Logan spoke up. “Hey! Their leader is holding up his hand in a sign of peace. I can guarantee you, he isn’t Black Thunder. I know what he looks like.”

“Are you willing to go out there with me and talk to them, Doctor?” asked the engineer.

“Certainly. I really believe these are not hostiles. I know a lot about the Cheyenne. If they meant to kill us, they would be shooting, not making a sign of peace.”

The engineer told the fireman to go tell the people in the next coach and the orphan coaches to sit tight. One of the male passengers volunteered to take the same message to those in coach number one. The engineer thanked him. “Let’s go, Doctor.”

Seconds later, everyone on the train was peering through the windows on the right sides of the coaches—including Dane Weston and Kenny Atwood. Dane’s admiration for Dr. Jacob Logan took a big leap when he saw the doctor going out to talk to the Indians with the engineer at his side.

Outside, the engineer stayed close by Dr. Logan as he plodded through the deep snow and halted a few feet from the leader. “Do you speak English?”

Remaining on his pinto’s back, the young leader nodded. “I do. My name Iron Hawk. We from nearby village led by Chief War Bonnet. We riding on high spot few minutes ago, see train stopped at bridge. See much snow piled on bridge. Think maybe you need help remove snow.”

The engineer released his pent-up breath in a relieved sigh. He said to Dr. Logan, “We have enough shovels in the caboose if they want to help us.”

Dr. Logan smiled. “Well, Iron Hawk, we really could use your help. We were afraid when first sighting you that you might be part of Black Thunders warriors.”

Iron Hawk shook his head. “No. We not. We at peace with whites. Do not want bloodshed. We against what Black Thunder and his warriors do to whites.”

Dr. Logan smiled again. “I’m glad for that, but you are different than any Cheyenne I have encountered. I am Dr. Jacob Logan. I have a medical office in the town of Cheyenne.”

“We have reason we not hostile toward whites, Dr. Logan. Do you know what ‘born again’ means?”

Logans heart skipped a beat. “You mean as in the Bible?”

“Yes. Open heart to Jesus Christ and be born again.”

“Am I hearing him right, Doctor?” said the engineer. “I used to hear a lot about being born again from my grandmother.”

“We’ll have to talk about it sometime,” said Logan. Then he said to the Indian leader, “I am a born-again child of God myself, Iron Hawk.”

Iron Hawk showed his teeth in a broad smile. “Then you my brother.”

“Wonderful! Are these other braves with you born again too?”

Every one of them was nodding his head when Iron Hawk said, “Yes. People of our village, including Chief War Bonnet, have all become born-again Christians because of testimony of nurse from Denver name Breanna Brockman. She come to our village many moons ago when most of our village smitten with smallpox. She save many lives. Iron Hawks squaw, Silver Moon, has become very close to Breanna Brockman. We visit Chief United States Marshal John Brockman and his wife, Breanna Brockman, in Denver quite often.”

Logan said, “I have heard of both Chief Brockman and his wife. We welcome you and your braves, Iron Hawk. We have many shovels in the caboose for just such an occasion as this.
Please dismount. We will get the shovels and let the passengers know that you are peaceful toward whites, and are going to help us clear the bridge. We have others that I know of who are born-again Christians on the train.”

Moments later, the male passengers joined the Indians at the tresde and began shoveling snow. Inside the train, passengers in the coaches talked with relief that these Cheyenne were peaceful toward white people.

Dane Weston sat on his seat, thinking about what Dr. Logan had passed on to them. “God bless Breanna Brockman for the testimony she has for Jesus! When I meet her in heaven someday, I’m going to thank her for saving our lives.”

Some two hours later, as the train chugged toward the trestle, Iron Hawk and his braves sat on their pintos and waved back at the people inside the train who were waving to them.