Chapter Three

More firm and sure the hand
Of courage strikes,
When it obeys the watchful
Eye of caution.

—Thomson

Blue Thunder and Gray Eyes and Blue Thunder’s warriors rode across the land. They were searching for any signs of the Comanche renegades led by the fierce and fearless Big Nose. These renegades were giving the Comanche people a bad name, leaving a swath of bloodshed behind them wherever they rode. But Blue Thunder had a more personal reason for wanting to hunt them down. He had reason to believe that they might be the ones responsible for the brutal rape and killing of his lovely young wife, Shawnta.

After Blue Thunder had lost sight of the tracks he had been following, he wasn’t certain where to look for Big Nose. The renegade was known to change his hideout often in order to keep anyone from finding it.

Blue Thunder and Gray Eyes had agreed that they would ride until dark today, and if they didn’t find Big Nose, they would resume the search tomorrow.

They were determined not to give up. Blue Thunder would not rest until he knew whether Big Nose was the one who’d killed his wife, and Gray Eyes had vowed to rescue his warriors.

Suddenly Blue Thunder drew rein and stopped his steed, followed by the others. Ahead, all could see the huge billows of black smoke not far away.

“There are no villages near here, so what is burning must be a white settlement,” Blue Thunder said. “Hakamya-upo, come. Let us go and see if there are any survivors.”

They rode hard toward the smoke.

Soon they discovered three cabins aflame, where settlers had lived in close proximity to each other.

They rode onward and stopped close to one of the raging fires. The sight that met their eyes made Blue Thunder’s stomach churn with disgust.

He swallowed hard and looked away from the dead bodies. Those who had came today and ambushed these white people had not stopped at killing the women, but also their children, who lay scattered on the ground.

And all had been scalped.

Blue Thunder did not have to take a closer look at the women to know that they had been raped, for their skirts were hiked up past their waists, leaving their lower bodies exposed.

“There are no men,” Gray Eyes said as he sidled his horse closer to Blue Thunder’s. “The coward renegades took full advantage of the innocent while their men were away.”

“The men, even the sons, are more than likely at the trading post, unaware of what they will find when they return,” Blue Thunder said, his voice full of loathing for whoever had done this.

He had to admit that he was not a lover of white people, but he did not hate them enough to kill and ravage their women.

He had learned to keep his distance from white people, except for those he dealt with at the trading post at Fort Dennison.

He would only attack whites if they attacked him first.

If at all possible, he avoided war.

“This is the work of Big Nose,” Blue Thunder announced. He shook his head. “And it seems he has gotten careless this time. The cabins and barns are still burning, so he cannot be far from here.”

“Ho, that is so,” Gray Eyes said, smiling smugly. “Let us follow the tracks. We shall surely find him soon.”

Blue Thunder dismounted.

He studied the various tracks, and then followed some to a fence that had been ripped out of the ground. From there, many tracks of both horses and people on foot came together.

He looked quickly over at Gray Eyes. “He has taken captives,” he said, frowning. “Perhaps that is why we saw no white men. They have all surely been taken captive.”

“The horses from all three homesteads are missing,” said Proud Horse, one of Blue Thunder’s most loyal warriors, as he ran up to him.

“And so they not only took captives as their spoils of war, but also mitasunkes, horses.” Blue Thunder nodded. “I would have thought they would only want mitasunkes. Taking captives is unwise, for it will not only awaken more hatred against the red man, but it will also slow Big Nose down.”

Gray Eyes bent to a knee and studied the footprints. “Ho, the white captives are made to walk, not ride,” he reported. “That will slow the renegades.”

“He has made one mistake after another today,” Blue Thunder said. He slowly kneaded his chin. “I wonder if it is on purpose. Or has he finally made an unwise decision?”

“Why would he do this on purpose?” Gray Eyes asked, slowly standing.

“He might want to lure those who will follow into a trap so that he can have more captives,” Blue Thunder suggested. “I think it is time that his plans are foiled, no matter what they may be.”

Blue Thunder turned and gazed again at the death and destruction all around him. He swallowed hard as his gaze fell upon the dead women.

He went to the first one and then another and lowered the skirts of their dresses over their nakedness, trying to give them some dignity in death.

He then ran to his horse and leaped onto its back. “Let us ride!” he shouted, a fist in the air.

He lowered his fist and gave Gray Eyes a slow smile. “Today we will not only find the white survivors, but also the warriors who were taken from your village,” he said.

Gray Eyes nodded, his eyes filled with flame; then they rode off, side by side, with Blue Thunder’s warriors following behind them.

As they rode off, the smoke still spiraled into the sky, and Blue Thunder looked over his shoulder at the devastation left behind by a demon who had no heart, and surely no soul.

“Big Nose, I know you did this. I will find you and you will pay for your heartless ways, not only toward whites, but to all,” he whispered to himself.

He looked straight ahead, the renegades’ tracks leading him onward. The sun was now making lengthy shadows of the trees, and the cool breeze of late afternoon had sprung up.

His jaw was set tight in his determination to find Big Nose. The other times he had searched for him, his efforts had been in vain.

But today?

Ho, today, he felt confident that Big Nose had become careless, careless enough to finally be stopped!