CHAPTER ONE:
Good morning, chief. You seem to be looking for something; I’ve just the thing for you.” A white tradesman in weathered gentleman’s apparel stirred the young man from his task. Onsi turned and looked at the man staring intently at him and holding a small bottle in his hands. “I’m not a chief,” he replied to the white man with accented English. “Yes. Well, you seem to be searching for something, and I think I can help you.” As he said this, the man once again raised the small bottle as if to display it for the young man. “Thank you, sir; I’m searching for the great warrior. Can you help me find him? I’ve been told he would be here. He travels with his wife and her brother.” The white tradesman appeared puzzled by the man’s question. He considered it briefly and then replied slowly. “The great warrior? You must mean David Crockett.” Onsi expressed confusion. “David, who?” he asked. The small bottle lowered a little in the man’s hands. “Davy Crockett, the great warrior, he killed a bear when he was just a lad.” Onsi thought about this for a few seconds. “A bear…? the warrior I’m searching for has killed a skadegamutc.” The white trader appeared completely confused, “A what?” “A skadegamutc, uhm…a big, uhm, terrible…ah, what you call…a demon?” Now the small bottle and the trader’s hands lowered all the way as he stared at the young man with disbelief. “A demon? I don’t know of any warrior like that.” Just then, the young man noticed something in the distance. He motioned with his hand in a thankful gesture. “Thank you. It’s all very well. I see now what I’ve been searching for. Thank you.” As Onsi lead his horse away, the trader remembered his initial thought. “Yes, well, you might also be interested in this miracle elixir! It cures everything; you won’t find it anywhere else on the frontier.” Onsi paid no more attention to the tradesman as he moved cautiously toward his objective. Twenty yards away and across a muddy trail, he spotted a young man and woman. Both sat on horses, and both had a packhorse connected to their own. The woman held the reins of a large, beautiful horse as well, which indicated another rider close by. Onsi immediately realized only a person of importance could afford such things as these. He maneuvered around the two, and as he could see them better, he was certain they matched descriptions of the people he’d been searching for. The woman appeared to be in her early twenties. She was very beautiful and seemed to be Cherokee. The young man beside her also appeared to be Cherokee and looked like the woman’s younger brother. Onsi found an inconspicuous location to wait. He then began to search for the warrior. As he was looking around, a white trapper staggered up to the woman. He appeared to have drunk too much of the white man’s drink called “whiskey.” Now, he examined the young woman with obvious desire. “Hello there. You’re sure a pleasant sight for a man who hasn’t seen a woman for months.” The white trapper spoke with slurred speech. The roughly dressed man came closer to the young woman’s leg. Her buckskin dress was pulled high because of to how she sat in the saddle, which caused much of her legs to be exposed. The man carefully looked at her leg. “You Indian women do like to show them pretty legs of yours, don’t ya?” The young woman stared down at the man, who was slowly moving closer to her leg. She said nothing but moved her right hand over to the handle of a knife in her leather moccasin boot. She pulled the knife out slightly as she glanced over to her brother. He also watched the man with obvious irritation. “Do you mind if I just touch that pretty leg a little? I just want to touch it once.” He looked up to the woman, who continued to gaze down at him without expression as her horse moved slightly under her. Onsi had now become very interested in this development and almost forgot about the warrior he was searching for. Then, a large native man came out from the trader’s tent in front of the young man and woman. He was around thirty years old, very distinguished in appearance, and was examining a musket in his hands as if he’d just traded for the long gun. By this time, the rough trapper was rubbing the woman’s exposed leg. She turned her head up and looked at the large man with the musket. He glanced up from the weapon in his hands, and realizing a man was beside her, he began to take notice. The woman spoke softly in a mix of native languages and asked the man with the musket, “May I kill him?” The large man couldn’t see that the trapper was rubbing her leg due to her brother’s horse. The man with the musket answered her casually, in the same mix of native languages used for trading. Onsi understood what he said, but it was apparent the white fur trapper didn’t understand this language. “No, I don’t believe it would be wise. He’s just got too much crazy-white-man juice in him.” Then, the woman’s brother intentionally moved his horse back a little. This allowed the large man to see that the white trapper was rubbing the woman’s leg. The large man’s face became stretched with anger. He stared at the man as if barely containing himself. Then he told the woman, “You may draw blood if you wish.” Onsi was astounded by this and watched the following events unfold within a few short seconds. The woman still held her knife. As the large man told her she could draw blood, the white trapper turned around, seeming to realize the woman spoke to someone behind him. He smiled at the large man and, raising his hand from the woman’s leg, pointed up to her and asked, “Is this here yer woman?” At the very instant the man pointed to her with his head turned, the woman pulled her knife and sliced off the trapper’s finger with one quick movement. Before the man had realized she removed his finger, the young woman had cleaned the blade on the horse’s blanket and was putting it back into her leather moccasin boot. Feeling something hit his hand, the white trapper turned to see blood oozing from where his finger had just been. Shock spread across his face. He began to moan as the pain took hold. He reached up with his other hand and held the wounded one in dismay. Now the large man walked over to him. He took the man by his coat and moved him away from the horses. Then he spoke to the man in broken English. “You’ve lost a finger today. But you’re fortunate to yet have your life. She could have removed your head just as easily.” He then looked around to make sure no one was close by. He turned back to the man who was still staring wide-eyed at his hand. With one quick movement, the large man head-butted the trapper, who stumbled back and fell into the muddy path, completely unconscious. Onsi stepped back a bit more into his hiding spot but possessing few doubts that this was the man he’d traveled far to find. The large man placed the musket into the ropes of a packhorse, and after climbing onto his own, they casually rode away. A few moments later, Onsi mounted his horse and followed at a distance. The three slowly rode west. Only the sounds of the horses and birds were heard as they moved along barely visible trails. After about two hours of travel, the woman’s brother stopped. The large man and the woman soon stopped as well. They looked back and then turned their horses and returned to him. All three held their mounts steady for a short time. Then the large man spoke softly, “One rider.” The woman’s brother nodded and added, “This rider has been following us since the traders gathering. He’s traveling too light for a warrior. I think this rider is a messenger.” The large man and the woman again remained silent as if listening. Then the large man began to turn his horse; he replied, “It seems we’ll have a guest for our late meal.” As the day moved to afternoon and then evening, the three continued westward. Finally, they stopped and set up a campsite. The fire glowed and crackled. The woman prepared food as the men checked their horses and supplies. None spoke, and when the food was ready, the woman handed a small dish to each man. She then sat down beside the large man and began to eat. The large man turned to the woman’s brother as they ate. “Do we need to retrieve our guest?” The young man stopped eating briefly and listened. Then he replied, “No, the guest is approaching slowly in front of us.” He then casually returned to his meal. The large man reached down beside his crossed legs and cocked his musket before returning to his meal. While eating, they watched in front of them and across the small campfire. After a few more moments, the large man called out, “Please, come to the fire so we can see you. I don’t wish to shoot you.” Shortly after this, Onsi crept cautiously into the firelight. He appeared surprised and frightened. “Sit,” was all the large man said to him. The young man immediately sat down. To his astonishment, the woman picked up a dish of food and moved over to him. She handed the food to him and then returned to her spot beside the large man. She picked her dish back up and began to eat again. “Eat,” the large man said and returned to his meal. All three studied Onsi from across the small fire but said nothing. The young man ate his food quietly and occasionally glanced at the three hosts. Once all had finished eating, the woman silently collected the dishes. She then pulled a long stem pipe from a leather bag. She filled the pipe with tobacco and lit it with a stick from the fire. After handing the pipe to the large man, she took a comb from another bag. She moved behind the large man and began to comb his long hair gently after untying it. As she did this, the woman occasionally looked with apparent suspicion at the visitor. The woman’s brother took a piece of wood that he seemed to have saved for after the meal. He examined the wood carefully but also glanced at Onsi from time to time. Onsi sat silently as the large man smoked his pipe and studied him. The woman’s brother began to cut the piece of wood with precision and very quickly had ornate designs whittled into it. Finally, the large man spoke as the fire began to die down. “I believe you and your people are having trouble. You’ve searched us out because this trouble is larger than your people can manage. You’re hoping to enlist our services but have little to offer for those services. What we need to know is the manner of trouble you’re facing.” The young man was speechless for a moment. The large man continued to stare at him as he pulled another draw from his pipe. The woman continued to comb his hair, and her brother continued to work on the piece of wood. They all studied the man in apparent anticipation of his answer. Finally, Onsi spoke with a nervous voice. “That’s very impressive. And I feel sure now that you’re the warrior called Orenda.” The large man expelled a stream of smoke from his mouth and replied. “I am called Orenda, by some. This is my wife, Nazshoni, and her brother Kanuna.” The young man nodded to Nazshoni and Kanuna. “I’m very happy to meet you. My name is Onsi. Yes, my village is very much in trouble. I have been searching for you for some months now. We feel you may be the only hope we have left.” Onsi paused as if recalling the trouble. Orenda continued to draw smoke from his pipe. Nazshoni combed her husband’s hair as she would a daughter. Kanuna focused on the carving in his hands. Onsi watched them for a few more seconds and then said, “Our village has been ravaged for many months now by a pack of lofa.” The three hosts froze immediately when Onsi said this. Orenda had been looking into the fire when he froze, and then his eyes drifted slowly up to stare at Onsi. Nazshoni stopped combing Orenda’s hair in mid-stroke. She also refocused her eyes from her husband’s hair to Onsi. Kanuna’s knife stopped halfway into a cut, and he raised his eyes and stared at Onsi. As the silence became very thick, Onsi watched the three. Only the crackling fire and a whippoorwill in the distance broke the tense atmosphere. Orenda finally lowered his eyes back to the fire. He pulled another draw from his pipe, and as he expelled the smoke, his wife and brother quietly returned to their activities. Nazshoni now began tying Orenda’s hair back, and Kanuna raised his carving up to get a better look at it in the fading light of the fire. Onsi waited patiently for some form of reply. Orenda handed the exhausted pipe to Nazshoni. She carefully cleaned the pipe and placed it in the leather bag. The warrior readjusted himself. Kanuna tossed his carving onto the dying fire, and then he returned his knife and seemed very interested in Orenda’s response. Finally, the warrior spoke. “You can stay here tonight, Onsi. We must consider this.” The three then prepared their blankets on the ground and were soon lying down to sleep. Onsi retrieved a blanket from his horse and lay down to sleep. Several hours later, Orenda stood up silently and walked into the woods, the moon being his only light. After walking for a bit, he stopped and gazed out over a small open area. He stood in silence for a while. Then, without turning, he spoke as if talking to the night. “So, what do you think of this thing, my brother?” Kanuna silently moved closer to Orenda but remained slightly behind him. He briefly marveled that Orenda always knew of his quiet approach. He replied in a soft voice. “The lofa are said to stand seven feet tall. Some tribes call them ‘the beasts with big feet.’ In the North, they’ve been called ‘saskewatche.’ Most believe an evil shaman conjured them. They have the stench of a thousand rotting corpses. They’re vicious with thick hide. Their bodies are covered with coarse hair, and their teeth are like those of a wild pig. It’s said to be very difficult to kill even one. I had thought the lofa had been all destroyed years ago.” He paused as if considering his final assessment. Silence briefly overtook the night again. Then he spoke his final thoughts. “To battle an entire pack of lofa is almost certain death. But Onsi and his people are right about one thing; you’re likely their only hope if there is any.” Again, the night became quiet. Kanuna waited for Orenda’s response. Then Orenda said, “And what do you think of this thing, my wife?” Kanuna became surprised as he suddenly realized Nazshoni stood directly across from him, also slightly behind Orenda. He jumped just a little as she turned to him. He could see her smile slightly and felt a bit embarrassed that his sister was able to sneak up on him this way. She said nothing for a moment. Orenda continued to stare out into the night as his wife considered the situation. Finally, she replied. “If we should walk past someone who is drowning and they call out for us to help them. And if we also look around to see that we’re the only ones that can help them, then we must either risk our lives to do so or forever hear their dying cries in our sleep.” Orenda and Kanuna slowly turned to Nazshoni. They looked at her for several seconds as if very impressed. Orenda then turned back to the open area where the moonlight exposed high grass and several fireflies flashing to each other.
