Page 78 of The Spirit of the Wolf

Grey Coyote bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, I too have ascertained this, because my dreams of late have been filled with the image of the man whom I seek. It is why I must journey to the trading post as quickly as it is safe to do so.”

“Then we should hurry there.”

“Hau, we will hasten to go there—but we must never forget how it is we will travel. We must go there as a scout would go. No other way to proceed is safe.”

“Which means we will go about it very slowly…”

“It does. You should remember I am also in hostile territory. Come, let us return this tiny raccoon to her brothers and sisters, and then we will rest. If all goes well, we should arrive at the trading post within the next few days.”

“This is good.” She nodded. “Do not be deceived, however. I cannot give up my plans to return to England. I will help you as best I can. But I, too, have a dream to follow.”

He didn’t respond; he merely looked at her.

In defense, she explained, “Those dreams are all I have.”

He nodded, one brief bob of his head. Then turning, he was gone.

Something was not right.

Grey Coyote realized it as soon as he was within a half day’s journey of the LaPrenier and Acme Trading Post. There was no noise in the air, no motion, no ever-expanding circles in the atmosphere to indicate movement, of which there should be a good deal.

He frowned. Worse, the closer he came to the locality of the post, the less sound accompanied them. No twittering of birds overhead, no quick rustling of the animals in the undergrowth.

True, the wildlife stayed away from a white man’s post as a rule, but the LaPrenier and Acme Trading Post had been here long enough that there should be some hint of animal life. At the very least, Grey Coyote should hear the cooing of doves.

But there was nothing, no sound, save the wind.

It was not a good sign.

At present, the day was only beginning. In the east, though the sun had not yet risen, a pinkish light was slowly advancing toward the earth. Soon, the cloak of darkness would no longer shield them.

The three of them had been winding their way through the night and had come to this place, which was a slight rise in the prairie. On the other side of this hill lay the trading post, a site which usually held many of the white man’s unusual provisions and gave the red man much interest.

And so Grey Coyote had thought to spend some time here, perhaps to entertain his wife here. But not today. Grey Coyote could not allow either of the women to go farther, not when he sensed danger. Something was not right.

What he needed was to find shelter for the women, a hiding place where he felt they would be safe. He scanned the prairie in all directions, gaze seeking a cover, but he saw little except expanding fields of dry, yellow grass. However, there were bushes which surrounded this hill.

It was not the best cover, but it would have to do.

As he searched for the best hiding place for the women, a feeling of foreboding took hold of him. It was then he realized he must proceed cautiously. Very, very cautiously.

“I wish we could go into the trading post. I think men sometimes forget that a woman’s heart needs a little adventure also. There might be something there for me…material for a dress, or⁠—”

“Your…husband tell me…we…women…not go. Stay here.”

“I know, but⁠—”

“Could…watch.”

“Could we? Is there a way?”

“We…hide…there.” Yellow Swan pointed to the shrubs which extended around the perimeter of the hill.

“Yes, yes. If we scoot far ahead, while keeping to the line of bushes, we might be able to see what’s happening without being seen. You’re a genius, my friend.”

The two women grinned at one another and took their positions.

Marietta gazed out into the grounds of the trading post. It was quite a small affair. Little more than a camp, it had no palisades to ward off attacks or bastions to defend it. From where she sat, the place looked as if it consisted of no more than three log buildings and a medium-sized corral.