Apache Flame (17 page)

“I see you found the woman,” Elk Chaser said.

Mitch nodded. “Mount up and ride like hell,” he said as he
spurred his horse forward. “They’re right behind us!”

Elk Chaser, Cheis, and Diyehii quickly mounted their horses
and took off after Mitch and the woman. Elk Chaser heard the war cries of the
Comanche, noted the change in their voices as they came upon the body of their
fallen comrade.

Elk Chaser urged his horse forward, away from the Comanche,
away from the flames. Foxes and deer, rabbits and quail fled before him,
seeking refuge from the approaching inferno.

It wasn’t a wide stretch of woods and before long, they
cleared the trees into the prairie beyond. Mitch had counted on the trees
slowing the fire, giving them time to escape to the clearing on the other side.
He looked back once to make sure Elk Chaser and the other two warriors were
behind him, and then he rode for the foothills until they came to a draw that
wound through a stretch of hard, rocky ground that would make tracking them
difficult. Right now, his only concern was getting Alisha to safety.

Elk Chaser slowed his horse, looking back. Cheis and Diyehii
were coming up fast behind him, and behind them, the Comanches.

“Let us hold them here,” Elk Chaser said, thinking to give
White Robe’s son and the woman time to get away.

“
Ai!
” Cheis agreed.

Elk Chaser was reaching for his bow when the arrow found
him. He doubled over, his breath leaving his body in a harsh gasp of pain, as
the slender shaft buried itself in his back. His horse bucked and squealed as a
second arrow pierced its hindquarters.

“You go ahead, with your son,” Diyehii called. “Cheis and I
will try to hold them off.”

“No,” Elk Chaser said, biting off each word as he fought
against the pain in his back. “I will stay and fight.”

“Go!” Cheis yelled. “You are wounded. You cannot fight!”

Elk Chaser knew Cheis was right. He could feel himself
weakening; it was an effort to stay in the saddle. He would be of little help
now; if his friends were worried over his safety, they might not give their
full attention to the battle at hand. The draw was narrow. With luck, Diyehii
and Cheis would be able to pick off the Comanches one by one.

Clutching the saddle horn with one hand, Elk Chaser urged
his horse after Otter.

* * * * *

Mitch slowed his horse to a trot, then reined the animal to
a halt. Moments later, Alisha rode up beside him. He didn’t know where the hell
they were, but right now it didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding a
place to hide from the Comanches.

Leaning out of the saddle, he reached over and squeezed
Alisha’s hand. “Are you all right?”

“I guess so.” She glanced anxiously over her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t we go on?”

“Yeah, as soon as I figure out which way to go.”

“You don’t know?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never been in this part of the country
before. Near as I can tell, that’s north. The
rancheria
should be that
way. Right now, we need to find a place to hide, and right quick.”

She nodded. “Lucky for me that you were here.”

“It wasn’t luck. I was looking for you.”

“You were? How did you know I was here?”

“We found Clements. He told us.”

“He’s alive?”

“He was, last I saw him.”

“Thank the Lord. I was sure he was dead.”

At the sound of hoofbeats, Alisha glanced over her shoulder,
gasped when she saw an Indian riding toward them. She released a sigh of relief
when she recognized him as the Indian Mitch had spoken to earlier.

Mitch started to ask Elk Chaser where the other two warriors
were when Elk Chaser slumped forward and Mitch saw the arrow protruding from
his back.

Mitch swore under his breath. Dismounting, he handed the
bay’s reins to Alisha, then hurried to Elk Chaser’s side. Reaching up, he
placed his hand over the warrior’s heart, relieved to feel the faint rise and
fall of the man’s chest.

“Is he dead?” Alisha asked.

“No.” Mitch glanced around as he heard gunshots from the far
end of the draw. Damn! Apparently at least one of the Comanches had a rifle.
“We’ve got to get out of here. Come on.”

Walking beside Elk Chaser’s wounded horse to make sure the
warrior didn’t slip off the animal’s back, Mitch headed down the draw. As they
reached the end of the draw, the sandy bottom gradually turned to hard rocky
ground that wouldn’t hold a print. And then, like the answer to a prayer, he
spied what looked like a cave cut into the side of a low hill.

“Wait here.” Handing the reins to Alisha, he scrambled up
the rocky hillside to check it out.

Chapter Nineteen

The cave was long and narrow and just high enough to allow
the horses inside. Mitch lifted Elk Chaser from the back of his horse and
lowered him gently to the ground.

Turning, he lifted Alisha from Sophie’s back, then led all
three horses toward the rear of the cave.

“Is he going to be all right?” Alisha asked. She took off
her hat and tossed it aside, then ran a hand through her hair.

“I don’t know. He’s unconscious.” Which was probably a
blessing, Mitch thought, all things considered.

“What do you think happened to the others?”

Mitch hesitated, wondering if she wanted the truth.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“I’d say that was a good guess.”

“What if they find us, the Comanches?”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Mitch said. “Why don’t you
take a look in Elk Chaser’s war bag and see what he’s got in there?”

Alisha nodded, glad to have something to do, something to
think about besides the danger that lay outside the cave.

Mitch knelt beside Elk Chaser. The warrior was unconscious,
his breathing slow and shallow. A fine sheen of sweat coated his brow. Drawing
his knife, Mitch slit Elk Chaser’s shirt up the back, exposing the wound.

The arrow was solidly embedded in the warrior’s back. Had it
been a little more to the left, had it penetrated a little deeper, it would
have pierced his heart.

Mitch swore softly, wondering whether he should try to
remove the shaft. There was little bleeding now, but all that would change as
soon as he started digging the arrowhead out.

He looked up as Alisha knelt across from him. “Find anything
we can use?”

“Some jerky, and a flint.” She pointed at the small buckskin
bag dangling from a thong around Elk Chaser’s neck. “What’s that?”

“His medicine bag.”

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“It contains his personal medicine.”

“What kind of medicine? Is he sick? I don’t understand.”

“It’s not that kind of medicine. It holds objects that
represent his power.” Mitch thought a minute. “Sort of like a Catholic wearing
a cross, or someone carrying a rabbit’s foot.”

“Good luck charms, you mean?”

Mitch nodded. “I guess you could call it that.” He slipped
the thong over Elk Chaser’s neck. Every Apache always carried a bit of
hoddentin
with him, and Elk Chaser was no exception. There was a small pouch of it inside
the bag, together with a piece of turquoise and a blue feather.

Mitch put the
hoddentin
sack to one side, and closed
the medicine bag.
Hoddentin
was a kind of powder made from
tule
.
His mother had told him that
hoddentin
was made by the
shaman
and
believed to possess powerful medicine. A pinch of it was thrown toward the sun
at planting time to insure a bountiful harvest, or as an offering when a war
party set out. It was sprinkled on the bodies of the deceased. It was eaten by
the sick, and said to restore the strength to one who was exhausted.

Perhaps it would stanch the bleeding if they removed the
arrow from Elk Chaser’s back.

He looked up at Alicia. “You know anything about doctorin’?”

“Not really.” She glanced at the arrow protruding from Elk
Chaser’s back. The sight of it made her stomach roil. “That should probably come
out.”

“Yeah.”

There was no point in putting it off any longer. The arrow
had to come out; infection was sure to set in otherwise.

“What are you going to use for bandages?” she asked.

“I was thinkin’ about your petticoat.”

Alisha nodded. While he ducked outside to gather some brush
for a fire, she removed her petticoat, wishing, for the first time, that she
had worn more than one. After tearing off the ruffle, she tore the rest into
strips.

Ten minutes later, they were ready. Mitch had ducked outside
and gathered an armful of brush and sticks and now a small fire burned near the
back of the cave.

She watched him withdraw a long-bladed knife from the sheath
on his belt, and shuddered. “You aren’t going to cut the arrow out with that,
are you?”

“It’s all I’ve got.” He held the blade over the flames.

She glanced at the knife sheathed on Elk Chaser’s belt, and
sighed. It appeared to be of a similar size.

Neither of them spoke as they waited for the blade to cool.

“All right,” Mitch said. “You sit by his head and try to
keep him still while I cut.”

Taking a deep breath, Alisha knelt near Elk Chaser’s head,
trying not to think of what was to come.

“If you know any prayers,” Mitch remarked as he straddled
Elk Chaser’s legs, “this might be a good time to say ‘em.”

She couldn’t watch, couldn’t imagine cutting into human
flesh. A low moan rose in Elk Chaser’s throat and he began to thrash about.

“Hold him!” Mitch exclaimed, and she put her hands on Elk
Chaser’s shoulders, using her weight to hold him down.

She turned her head to the side, but it didn’t help. She
couldn’t shut out Elk Chaser’s cries of pain, or the sound of Mitch’s knife
rending living flesh. She heard him swear once and she looked up, her gaze
meeting his.

“Damn knife slipped,” he muttered.

She nodded, bile rising in her throat as she caught a
glimpse of the raw, angry wound, the blood that covered Elk Chaser’s back.

She closed her eyes, stifling the urge to vomit as Mitch
turned his attention to the task at hand.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably no more than
twenty minutes, the arrow was out.

Mitch soaked up the blood with the ruffle off her petticoat.
When the bleeding had slowed, he packed the wound with
hoddentin
, then
cut a length of petticoat, folded it into a thick square and placed it over the
wound. A long piece of Alisha’s petticoat held it in place.

Mitch sat back, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Well, I’ve
done all I can. The rest is up to him.”

“What do we do now?”

It was a good question, Mitch thought. He only wished he had
a good answer. Elk Chaser’s horse couldn’t travel, so if they decided to make a
run for it, one horse would have to carry double, which would slow them down.
Even if Elk Chaser’s horse was sound, they’d have to travel slow with frequent
stops. Still, all other concerns aside, Mitch was afraid that moving Elk Chaser
now would kill him.

“Shouldn’t we do something for his horse?”

Rising, he went to look at Elk Chaser’s horse. The horse
snorted and shook his head at his approach.

“Easy, fella,” Mitch said. “I just wanna have a look.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“Come here, ‘Lisha.” His childhood name for her came easily
to his lips, reminding him of warm carefree days by the river.

She came to stand beside him. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna cut a few inches off the shaft to ease some of
the strain. I’m afraid he might scrape it against the wall and drive it in
deeper.”

“Why don’t you take it out?”

Mitch glanced around the cave. “Not in here. It’s too
dangerous. I don’t want you getting kicked, or run the risk of Elk Chaser
getting stomped by a bronc loco with pain. Here.” He handed her the horse’s
reins. “Stand beside his shoulder. You won’t get kicked there. And keep a tight
hold on him. He isn’t gonna like this. Easy, fella,” he said, moving up alongside
the horse. “Easy now.”

Taking hold of the shaft, Mitch broke it in two, so that
only a few inches protruded from the horse’s rump.

The horse squealed and lashed out with its hind legs. Mitch
grabbed hold of the bridle. “Hey, now, quit that.” He looked at Alisha over
horse’s back. “Get Elk Chaser’s medicine bag and sprinkle some of that
hoddentin around the arrow, will you?”

With a nod, she did as he asked. She watched him walk around
the horse’s head. “What are we going to do about getting out of here?”

“I don’t know.” He patted the horse on the shoulder, then
walked to the cave’s entrance and peered through a narrow crack in the brush he
had used to camouflage the cave. All seemed quiet, and then, in the distance,
he saw a rider quartering the ground. So, the Comanches were looking for them.
“We sure enough need help, but we aren’t likely to find any out here.”

“Then you’re got to go and find some.”

She had followed him to the mouth of the cave, and now he
glanced at her over his shoulder. “And leave you here alone?”

“What else can we do? Elk Chaser’s horse is wounded, but
even if it wasn’t, he’s in no condition to travel anyway.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“We can’t leave him here alone, either. And I’d only slow
you down. You’ll be able to travel much faster alone, won’t you?”

He nodded in reluctant agreement.

“I think you should go for help.”

“Dammit, ‘Lisha, I’m not gonna ride off and leave you here
alone.”

“I’ll be all right.” She put on a brave smile. “I’m not
afraid.”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving her, but she was right.
If he rode straight through, he could reach the
rancheria
early tomorrow
morning and be back the following night. She had enough food and water to last
until then. If the worst happened and the Comanches found the cave, they
weren’t likely to kill her. He glanced at Elk Chaser. The Comanches would kill
the old warrior for sure, but it was a risk Mitch would have to take. They
couldn’t just sit here, doing nothing.