Savage Dawn
AVAGE
D
AWN
C
ASSIE
E
DWARDS
LEISURE BOOKS 
NEW YORK CITY
With the cloth dripping wet, she hurried to him, then quickly knelt and applied it to his feverish brow, his cheeks, and then his chest.
Suddenly Nicole felt the Indian shiver, whether in pleasure or shock at the cold water, she didn’t know.
She looked quickly at his eyes and grew pale when she found them open again.
He was watching her every move.
She flinched, dropped the cloth, and crawled quickly away, stopping a few feet from him. Only then did she turn to look at him again.
When their gazes met and held, Nicole felt a strange reaction, like a butterfly fluttering inside her belly.
The Indian continued to gaze into her eyes, as though he was looking far into her soul. His look gave her a sudden, strange feeling of sensuality at the juncture of her thighs. She had never experienced such feelings before.
It was an awakening of sorts, and it felt strangely delicious.
I dedicate
Savage Dawn
To Annetta Marie Trumble, a very special person and the mother to my dear friend Linda Lum.
Always
,
Cassie Edwards
I know to love you is forbidden.
And so when it is day, I keep my
Thoughts of you hidden.
But when night falls, by the light of Sister
Moon, I run to you.
To the warmth of your skin to kiss you, to
breathe you in,
To once again feel your embrace,
To hold you and touch your beautiful face.
I run my fingers through your raven hair
And look into your eyes so brown.
I feel the love you have for me,
Words are spoken between us without a sound.
Our hearts beat fiercely as one,
With passion and true love.
This bond cannot be broken,
For it is united by the Great Spirit above.
My warrior, you are like the brightest star
Shining in the night,
You are my love, my light.
One day we shall stand together for all the world to see,
For you are my warrior and always will be.
By Sara Key, poet and friend
Utah, 1850
A soft wind fluttered the closed entrance flap of the tepee as Chief Eagle Wolf sat beside his lodge fire on a warm autumn day. He had just made a terrible decision, one that he must now carry out to ensure the safety of his Navaho people.
Already, his Owl Clan had lost too many of its members. Only a few winters ago, his mother and father had been killed in a skirmish with the U.S. Cavalry. They had died as the Navaho fled the bluecoats who were trying to force them onto a reservation.
Many of their friends had died that day, as well, killed by the soldiers who brought death and destruction to Chief Eagle Wolf’s beloved people.
What had remained of their Owl Clan had followed Eagle Wolf to this mountain stronghold, where they had found a safe haven in a deep, hidden canyon. From that time on, Eagle Wolf had taken leadership of his people, as his father had led them before his untimely death.
Eagle Wolf’s midnight-dark eyes filled with deep
sadness as he stared into the dancing flames of the fire, remembering all that had happened to his people because of the white eyes. So much of it was
hogay-gahn
, bad.
When Eagle Wolf and his people had finally reached safety on this mountain, and had established their homes there, many of the Owl Clan had died from a disease white men had carried to Navaho land, an illness known to everyone as…smallpox.
Eagle Wolf had buried his wife, as well as many of his friends. And today he had discovered the same ugly spots on his own body.
To keep from exposing his people further to the disease that he now carried, Eagle Wolf had decided to flee the village. He would go off by himself, someplace where he could either die from the disease, or recover and then return to his people to resume his role as their chief.
His people had approved of his decision to temporarily turn the duties of chief over to his brother Spirit Wolf, who had seen five winters fewer than his own twenty-five. His brother understood that if Eagle Wolf came out of this situation alive, he would once more take on the title of chief.
Realizing that he had taken enough time pondering what had been, what was, and what might be, Eagle Wolf stood up and faced the closed entrance flap. Just beyond it, his brother stood awaiting Eagle Wolf’s moment of departure.
Dressed in only a breechclout and moccasins, Eagle Wolf spoke through the buckskin covering of the entrance flap.
“My brother, it is time now for me to leave,” he said sadly. His sculpted, copper face showed only a few of the dreaded spots, yet there were enough to make him realize that soon his whole body might be covered with the pox.
His muscled shoulders tightened as he bent low and picked up a leather sheath, in which lay his sharp knife. He attached this at the right side of his waist.
Then he gazed at his quiver of arrows, remembering the hours he had spent making them. His eyes turned to his large bow, and he was filled with remembrances of sitting beside his lodge fire with his father while Eagle Wolf carved designs of forest animals into the wood.
Those were precious, revered memories that would stay with him even into his old age, if the Great Spirit granted him the blessing of long life.
But for now, it seemed doubtful that he would survive this terrible disease. He had prayed to the Great Spirit that he would live and still have the capacity to lead his people and keep them safe from white eyes and anyone else who might prove to be their enemy.
“My brother, I will slit my lodge covering down the back and leave that way so that I will not come near you. I do not wish to expose you to this illness
that faces our people like a coiled snake, ready to strike first one and then another,” Eagle Wolf said thickly. “I will set fire to my lodge and burn it along with everything within it. No one must come in contact with my possessions, which may carry the disease on them. All that I will take from my lodge is a parfleche bag of supplies, my trusted bow and arrows, my rifle, and my knife. I will go far enough away so that none of our people will be exposed to this disease.”
“My brother, I will watch over our people in your absence,” Spirit Wolf replied solemnly. “I will pray for you. So will all of our people. Surely our prayers will bring you back to us, well and ready to be a part of our lives once again. Then we will be
ka-bike-hozhoni-bi
—happy evermore.”
“What is planned in the beginning, even before we have taken our first breaths of life, will be,” Eagle Wolf said, removing his knife from its sheath and slowly running its sharp edge down the buckskin fabric of his lodge. “If it is in the Great Spirit’s plan that I will return to our people, so shall I return. If not, and I should die, I will go to meet those who have departed before me. I trust you, my brother, to make sure our people thrive in my absence. Most of all, keep them safe from any white eyes who might venture up our mountain.”
“I shall do all that is expected of me,” Spirit Wolf called, for he knew now that Eagle Wolf was no longer in his tepee, but instead at the
back. He could smell the smoke as his brother set fire to the buckskin covering. “My brother, be safe. Be well!”
“Spirit Wolf, my body is only a shell,” Eagle Wolf replied as he stepped away from the burning lodge, his bow slung over his left shoulder, his knife secured again in its sheath. His rifle was in its gun boot at the side of his white stallion, which he had tied behind his lodge. “Should I die, my spirit will survive and live on.”
All went quiet, except for the popping and crackling of the fire as everything inside the tepee was consumed by flames.
He was filled with a keen sadness that all his belongings except for what he carried in his parfleche bag were going up in flames. Most of all, he hated to lose those things that had belonged to his dear wife, Precious Stone.
Feeling the heat of the flames on his face, Eagle Wolf watched for a moment longer, then turned and ran to his horse.
No, he had not enjoyed seeing the tepee and its contents going up in flames, but he knew that if he survived, he would return and build another one just as strong and large. He would then begin to accumulate personal belongings and wealth all over again.
The stench of his burning lodge followed him as Eagle Wolf mounted his white stallion and rode away from the canyon where he had brought his people to safety.
His eyes were bloodshot and aching. The spots on his face itched, especially now that the smoke had irritated them.
He felt suddenly sick to his stomach and he knew by touching his fiery brow that he had a raging temperature.
But he could not stop to rest until he was far enough away from his people so that they would be safe from the disease he carried in his body.
He must make his way far down the mountain pass, as far from his people as he could get. And once he found a safe place to stop, he must center his thoughts on getting well. He knew that his people needed and depended on him. His brother was a strong warrior and loved by their Owl Clan, too, but it was Eagle Wolf who had been taught the skills of leadership by his chieftain father.
Eagle Wolf’s father had begun teaching him as soon as Eagle Wolf could retain the lessons in his mind and heart.
He vividly remembered the many hours he had spent with his father, listening with pride and love to the words of the wise Navaho chief. Eagle Wolf was taught in the same way his father was counseled by his own chieftain father.
Missing his father so much, Eagle Wolf was even more determined to get well and resume his role as chief; his father would not want it to be any other way.
Eagle Wolf was a man who did not cry easily,
but at this moment he could feel the heat of tears in his eyes as he remembered his father.
He looked heavenward. He knew that his father was there now, in spirit, looking over him and giving Eagle Wolf the strength and courage that it would take for him to return to his people a well man.
“And so I shall,” he whispered as he began his descent.
He passed through a lovely forest of juniper, spruce and cedar trees, where the air was filled with birdsong. He could hear small animals scampering away from his horse’s approach. He observed the creatures of the forest, trying to focus on something besides the sense of loss that filled him with such a deep, hurtful sadness.
He smiled as he looked slowly around him, thinking as he had many times before that Mother Nature had blessed this mountain and all of the land below that lay in its shadow.
It was a place where he sometimes saw antelope peacefully grazing. His favorite animal was the white-tailed deer; the most feared were the bears and cougars.
The beauty of this land and its animals never ceased to take his breath away, for each creature had its place in the order of things. Even the slinking wolf could be seen as beautiful by a man filled with the love of nature.
He had found a wounded wolf one day not long ago while he was riding along the mountain pass.
It was apparent that it had fought a fierce battle with an enemy. It had a large, raw wound on its right side, yet the wolf had apparently managed to escape the final death blow from its attacker.
Loving all animals, especially one that had proven to be so valiant as this wolf, Eagle Wolf had stopped his horse and dismounted. He had searched out and found a forest plant that his father had taught him was used for healing.
Eagle Wolf had torn the plant into tiny pieces and sprinkled the herb onto the wolf’s open wound.
At first the wolf had snarled and bared its teeth at Eagle Wolf, but after he had spoken softly to it, the animal had stretched out and allowed Eagle Wolf to minister to its wounds.
Since then, Eagle Wolf believed that he had seen that same wolf from time to time, disappearing into the dark shadows of the forest as Eagle Wolf approached on his horse.
On those occasions, Eagle Wolf had felt the animal’s yellow eyes on him, watching from its hiding place. Eagle Wolf could only smile, for he believed that the animal recognized him and saw him as a friend.
As he rode along now, Eagle Wolf searched the darkest shadows, wondering if that same wolf could be nearby?
Eagle Wolf had reached the lower part of the pass, and he was feeling dizzy from the fever. He
knew that he could not go much farther. He needed to stop and rest.
He needed to find water so that he could bathe his face. He needed to recover so he could return to his people. There were many dangers still facing them.
His thoughts returned to the white government. The cavalry in charge at Fort Sumner had forced many Navaho people onto the reservation. But under Chief Eagle Wolf’s leadership, the Owl Clan had escaped to this remote, high mountain.
His father had told him some winters ago that the mountain had special powers, powers that would serve their people well. His father had told Eagle Wolf that the mountain would work as a protective shield if ever they needed to seek sanctuary there. Hidden within its canyons, the clan would never be found by the white eyes. The spirits of the mountain would not allow it.
After his father’s death, Eagle Wolf had led their people up this mountain, where they had established new homes in the deep slash of a canyon.
He and his people met often in their council house. There they offered prayers to the mountain, asking the spirits to keep them all safe.
Thus far, the mountain had continued to bless them. Except for this disease that the white man had passed to his people, the Owl Clan had remained safe.
Their hunts were always bountiful and their gardens provided vegetables for their cook pots.
Ho
, except for the disease that Eagle Wolf was carrying away from his people, life had been good for the Owl Clan in the place they named Navaho Mountain.
“It will be our home, always, whether or not I am there to experience its goodness myself,” Eagle Wolf whispered to himself.
But for now he must find a place to stay where he could battle this disease alone and away from those he loved.
He gazed into the blue sky and prayed again for his body to heal.