ChasetheLightning Read Online Free

with dirt and
plants so skillfully that unwary enemies would come upon them unaware of their
presence until it was too late.
    He learned how to read smoke signals, and send them. A
sudden puff of smoke that came and went quickly signaled that strangers were in
the area; if the smoke was repeated over and over, it signified that the
strangers were numerous and well-armed. It was an education in warfare and
survival that had served Trey well even after he had left the tribe.
    The Apache held truth in high esteem. He did not steal from
his own. He shared what he had with others, paid his debts, loved his children,
supported those who depended on him.
    The People did not eat bear meat, or pork, or turkey, nor
did they eat fish or any other creature that lived in water. But almost every
other animal was considered a source of food: deer, buffalo, prairie hens,
squirrels, and horses. Mule meat was considered the best of all.
    Bears were to be avoided, as were their trails and
droppings, as the People believed that bears were the reincarnated ghosts of
people who had been evil in life and were made to live as bears as punishment
for their misdeeds.
    They hunted the turkey and the hawk and the eagle for their
feathers; they hunted mink and muskrat and beaver for their skins.
    Trey had learned that colors played an important part in the
daily life of the People. Black was the color for the East, yellow for the
West, blue for the South, white for the North. East was the holiest direction,
and the People believed that things were best begun in the East. Four was a
sacred number, as there were four directions, four seasons.
    The Apache were a sociable people, and feasts and dances
were held often. Gambling was indulged in not only by women and men, but
children as well.
    Wood from a tree struck by lightning was considered to be
powerful medicine. Trey had a piece he had taken from a tree he’d seen split in
half during a storm. He had worn it on a string around his neck while he lived
with the Apache. Now, it adorned the stallion’s bridle.
    He had learned to make arrows from mountain mahogany or
mulberry wood. He had used the feathers from a hawk for fletching. His most
prized possession had been a bow his grandfather had made for him. It had been
a powerful weapon, strengthened with layers of sinew on the back. An Apache
warrior could shoot an arrow five hundred feet with fatal effect.
    Trey had practiced with the bow every day, and every target
had been J. S. Hollinger. And every day, he had vowed to avenge his father’s
death.
    He had stayed with his mother until she died of a fever
eight years later.
    He had bid his grandparents goodbye, had promised Walker on
the Wind that he would return when he had avenged his father’s death.
    His last goodbye had been to Red Shawl, an Apache woman who
had flirted with him on more than one occasion and who had let Trey know that,
had he asked for her hand in marriage, she would not have refused even though
she was several years older than he.
    But he’d had no time for a woman, no thought of settling
down. Vengeance rode him with whip and spurs, filling his every thought, guided
his every action.
    It had taken time, but Trey had formed a gang. His men were
hard-edged, willing to do anything he asked of them. They had held up one bank
after another until they reached Wickenburg. He’d had every intention of
gunning down J. S. Hollinger but when the time came, he couldn’t do it. There
was no honor in killing a coward. The need for vengeance that had driven him so
mercilessly for so long had faded like smoke in the wind as his old enemy
cowered before him, sobbing and begging for mercy. All that was left now was an
aching void.
    Trey rode until nightfall, then made camp in a dry wash.
Dinner was beans and hardtack for himself, a patch of dry yellow grass for his
horse.
    Sitting there, he promised both of them a bath and a good
rubdown at the first town they came to.
    * * * * *
    Amanda woke