SSS ( Sadie’s Short Stories): Reed; the white apache (part II)

Reed looked at the sunset, the sky bright with color. This land was rightfully named. The land of the setting sun. He loved this land. If he died tomorrow, he would never be able to see such a beautiful sunset again. There will be trails he did not ride, valleys he would never see. He couldn’t die, he had to escape. Of course, he would become a fugitive. 

The night was without the moon, only a few stars peeped their light from behind the clouds. The night was as dark as a black stallion. This was the perfect night for him to escape, under the cover of darkness.

The Apache’s night fire blazed on the north side of the camp. The horses were tied near the fire, including his horse. Bandacar, his horse, was munching a wad of grass contentedly. Reed watched, wishing he could be so calm and contented. 

He shook the sleep away. He could feel the weariness coming over him like a bandit in the night. He stood, stretching his stiff legs. He needed to be nimble if he was to escape without alerting the others. He stretched his stiff fingers and felt for the lock. He felt the rough-hewn wooden bars, and he felt for the door. He finally found it and searched for the handle. He ran his hand up the handle and found a lock. Of course, it was locked, and he felt himself grow cold. His large hands couldn’t fit easily through the bars, but his fingers were small enough that he could pick the lock. He found his hidden knife. He had made a hidden pouch in his boot, and he has put in the pouch a thin, small knife. After a long time of picking, the latch came free. He felt the ends of his fingers, which were bleeding. He rubbed them down his jeans, picking up his garments. He had taken off his shirt during the hot day. He was going to need it now that the day had cooled in the cold of the night. 

He walked out of the cage, creeping quietly to the few bushes that outlined the camp. The cold night air stiffened his joints, but even then he had to keep from crushing anything loud underfoot. 

He crept slowly toward the light of the fire. The warriors sat around the fire, while some of them danced with their new scalps on the ends of their spears. Reed shivered as he saw the scalps, seeing that they were fresh, blood dripping down the spearheads.

Facing the campfire he crept towards the horses. One of the horses closest to him tensed and stamped its hooves, sensing Reed’s presence. Coming over slowly Reed softly talked to the horse. Reed patted it’s back and searched by the firelight for Bandacar. He found his horse closest to the herd that was stolen from him earlier that day. 

He found his horse, but now he had to find his pack and saddle. He looked around in the dark, searching wildly for his saddle. At last, after searching aimlessly in the faint light he found it underneath a Ponderosa pine. His heart leaped when he felt the saddle horn and he lifted the saddle gently. He walked quietly to his horse, feeling the ground as he went. The rocks underfoot were loud and dry, making it hard to walk soundlessly.

On finding Bandacar he put his saddle blanket on the horse, slipping the saddle onto the horse as fast as he could. He then checked to make sure he had his guns on the saddle, he found that he had his rifle. He was missing his gun belt. He cursed quietly to himself, sensing that he would have to leave without it if he couldn’t find it before sunup.

He searched again, but in vain. He searched for another hour, but without success. He looked to where the fire was blazing and saw one of the Apache’s had a gun belt that looked like his own, strapped to his side. Looking closer, he saw that it was his belt. Cursing again, Reed crept towards the bushes. He would have to find a way to get the Apache alone without alerting the others. 

The Apache’s were enjoying a dance when the one with the belt heard a call of an owl. He looked around, seeing if the others heard the same thing. The others had some whiskey in them, so they were not listening. He had made sure to stay sober to watch for anything unusual. Now he could hear the strange call. He fastened the white Apache’s belt tighter around his hip. 

Reed saw from where he hid that the Apache was coming nearer his hiding place. It was the one he was hoping for. He called again, creeping closer into the shadows. 

The Apache looked around in the bushes. He saw some footprints, seeing that they were boots, he grabbed his hatchet. He crept after the tracks, making sure as to not disturb them. He came closer to one of the trees when he felt a hand cover his mouth and his world went black. 

Reed stripped the gun belt off the unconscious Apache and stripped off his boots. He traded them for the moccasins the Apache was wearing. Getting his guns back, he made his way to his horse. Stepping into the saddle, he felt Bandacar shiver beneath him. “I know you are ready to run, but we are going to move slowly and soundlessly.” Reed rode his horse southwards, heading away from the camp. He then road up a path into the hills beyond. When he got to the top of one of them, he could still see the fire of the Apache camp. He saw his herd grazing below. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you, but with some friends.” With that Reed rode off, keeping to the rock as to leave no tracks. In the cover of darkness, he had made his escape.

I hope you enjoyed the rest of Reed: the White Apache (part II). I really enjoyed writing this story, and I’m so glad I could share this with you all. Thanks so much for reading my stories, and I hope they are entertaining, but also informative, and educational, so that you can learn a little more about this time period and culture. Thanks again, until my next post! – Sadie