© 1997 by Kathy. May not be reproduced without permission
The days passed quickly. As spring became summer Running Buck changed as well. He gradually became accustomed to the mission's routine. He hit a growth spurt in late spring, eating everything in sight, except for the fish, which no Kiowa would eat as being unlucky. The bald boy came in handy there; he seemed to sneeze at anything and was called 'allergic' - which soon became Running Buck's excuse. At least then he didn't go hungry.
Reading, originally a complete mystery, became a solvable puzzle. If only each letter did the same thing every time he saw it! It was as if some of them moved every time he got to the end of the line. What did 'ea' in great say 'ay', and in bean say 'ee'? It was crazy, yet he found he enjoyed the challenge. Indeed, he proved Mother Superior's original assessment of his intelligence to be conservative.
What didn't change was his status within the mission. Mother Superior and Svenson were clearly on his 'side,' while Sister Mary Catherine stayed hostile. The children gradually became less interested in taunting him; especially after Running Buck won all of the few fights he got into. All in all, life was good.
Running Buck spurred his horse. He could hear the childish screams from too far away; whatever was going on, it was frightening the little ones. He'd been out hunting and had taken longer than he hoped to find a deer; it was now almost sunset.
Close to the mission walls he slid quietly off his horse then slapped it on the rump to keep it running. Hopefully, any enemies who heard the hoofbeats would think he continued riding; at least for the few minutes it took to scale the wall and jump into the small space between the stable and the high mission wall.
Inside the stable, he looked out into the courtyard through a knothole, then turned sharply, his rifle in his hands as a sound behind him caught his attention.
"It is me, Running Buck, Svenson. Don't shoot."
"What's happening?"
"Dose men, day vant to stay but Mother Superior, she says 'No.'" In the stress, Svenson's accent became so thick that Running Buck could barely understand him.
"Why are the children....." he paused, not knowing the word for 'scream' in English.
"Screaming?"
"Yes."
"De bad men, dey take Billy and Jonaton and hurt dem. I don't know how bad."
"How many?"
"Eight only."
Running Buck examined the courtyard. The screams and crying seemed to be coming from the schoolroom - but he couldn't trust to that - the distance was too great. He could see three men on guard, but the setting sun was in his eyes - there could have been more. "Svenson, do they know you are here?"
"No, I don't tink so. But if dey find out..."
Running Buck nodded. At least that gave them an advantage - and he'd take any he could get. "If they don't know we are here, that is good."
Svenson looked at the calm boy - no, ung man - young man. Here, in this situation, Running Buck was the senior of the two. After all, he had trained for war most of his young life. "Vat do ve do?"
The answer was firm, decided. "After the sun sets, I will enter the mission through the window of the bedroom where I sleep. It is always open. Then I will let you in. I will go and kill as many of the bad men as I can."
"Ja."
The window opened easily and Running Buck slipped inside. The noise from the children had quietened, though whether the children themselves had become quiet or they noise was blocked by the thick adobe walls, he couldn't tell. At least everything was quiet and dark. Before doing anything else, he went over to the fireplace and got some of the cold coals. He rubbed the charcoal on his hands and face to darken and camoflage them. Spirits, it is not medicine paint, but help me anyway.
In silence he passed along the corridors, still wearing the moccasins he favoured when hunting. White men's shoes made too much noise. There was no interference as he opened the small door in the read of the building which was used to pass wood in from the pile outside.
"I am too old for dis, I tink," Svenson said as he squeezed himself in through the door.
"Not too old, just too fat," Running Buck answered with a grin. There was danger, but a joke was rare enough. "Now, take the rifle. There is the shotgun in the kitchen also. "
"I am not a good shot."
"Then I will keep the rifle. You do not have to be a good shot with a shotgun. Go to the room where I bathed and see if you can see into the schoolroom and wait for me. Be careful."
"I vill." As Svenson moved off on the right, Running Buck went out the small door. Svenson would do nothing unless his hand was forced and the enemies outside could easily be taken without alarming those within. When Svenson and Running Buck finally freed the hostages, their enemies would have little backup. Three men in the courtyard, eight altogether... Probably there would be one near the rear of the mission, one in the chapel - that left three inside with the prisoners. That was enough.
The one near the rear gate heard nothing, saw nothing. He concentrated on possible danger approaching from outside the mission - never suspecting that danger could come from a place filled with children and nuns. The knife entered his kidneys as his mouth was covered by a hand. The immense internal blood flow* filled his abdomen. Without the returning blood flow, his heart soon ceased to beat. One down.
It was little different for the tall man guarding the chapel. With his charcoaled face and hands Running Buck was almost invisible in the darkness. The only thing he saw was a little moonlight shining on the long blade of the Kiowa's knife just before it slashed across his throat. That's two.
Hiding behind the chapel, he saw the three men in the courtyard. Two were smoking. Fools, they give themselves away with light and smell. The third man seemed to have authority and the two cigarettes were quickly put out, but the damage was done. Besides, the flame from their matches would have damaged their night vision and Running Buck would have a few minutes with an extra advantage.
He ran quietly across the yard, but as he reached the wall of the main building, a shot rang out from inside the building.
*The kidneys get one quarter of the blood from every beat of one's heart. Next to the heart itself, they are the organs with the greatest blood flow per heartbeat.
