The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 17

"Are you sure? Where will we go?" Maggie frowned.

"You don't want to stay here now do you? We don't belong here. It is our only chance with the men away."

Falcon.

Maggie swallowed hard around the lump in her throat but nodded.

Adelaide whispered in Joshua's ear, his face contorting into a scowl, but he did as he was told, stepping backward, his hands on his sisters' arms.

Small Bird and Aquene spoke quietly, the other women joining in the conversation as they slowly moved down the line of trees, harvesting food for the tribe.

It was painfully obvious they didn't belong. If they could escape, Adelaide was one step closer to returning back to the future. If only she could find that little church, she was certain she would be able to be transported back to the comforts of the life she had taken for granted.

Distracted, it was now or never. She'd seen where the men left the canoes and had used one before, going out on the lake with her elderly father. It couldn't be that hard to get away - not if both canoes were gone. Surely these women wouldn't swim after them and even if they did, they would never be able to keep up.

"Now," Adelaide breathed a moment before she and Maggie stepped back into the thick underbrush making their way back to the encampment before the others.

The canoes lay within view.

"Help your sisters!" Adelaide instructed Joshua who had jumped into one first, reaching up to lift his slender siblings into the canoe behind him.

It had been so many years since Adelaide had run, her footing sure as she descended the steep embankment towards the creek, yet it was as though her spirit remembered, propelling her forward as she dragged Maggie behind her, fingers encircling Maggie's slender wrist.

"We'll find your husband," Adelaide encouraged her to run fast, but those words only made Maggie blanch.

How could she face Guillaume after what she had done last night?

There was no time to think as she tumbled down the hill headfirst, landing in the deep water with a splash.

The fact Maggie might not be able to swim was something Adelaide hadn't taken into account.

Dark hair swirled over the surface of the water, before Maggie sank, her arms and legs flailing wildly in a futile attempt to learn how to swim when it was much too late. Her long dress wrapped around her legs, weighing her down.

Adelaide watched helplessly as Maggie's head slipped beneath the water for a final time, she and her children unable to save their new friend. Adelaide cried out in utter helplessness.

Regret.

****

The rapids were treacherous, tossing the crudely made canoes up and down, Brebeuf's stomach reeling in objection, yet he bit his tongue, refusing to disclose his secret: he couldn't swim.

"There is too much weight," his younger comrade shouted, most un-priestley, passion enveloping each word.

Panic.

Hands clutched Brebeuf's sack, casting it unceremoniously into the raging water. A splash and his earthly possessions were gone, whirled away in the white rapids. Brebeuf didn't have time to think as the canoe capsized.

What became of his companions, Brebeuf could not know, his head submerging beneath the frothy, merciless water. Sputtering, his head bobbed up and down in the water which filled his mouth and lungs as he thrashed, his black cloak rising in the water, exposing pale ankles to the fish.

It was an embarrassment that his quest to win souls had met with such a fate mere miles from the fort. Washed ashore, he would likely never be located, and as for his writings…

Blackness overcame him as he sank into a watery grave.

Chief Long Knife vaulted out of his canoe, plunging into the water as the balding man sank beneath the waves like a dead weight. Muscles rippled, glistening wet beneath the sun as he disappeared into the depths, wrapping his arm around the black-robed man who was about to breathe his last.

Secured, Brebeuf was hauled out of the water, then dumped unceremoniously into the canoe before the meticulously crafted canoe whisked him along the swirling water.

Chief Long Knife skillfully maneuvered the canoe past the water the palefaces had been unable to traverse.

European life had done nothing to prepare Brebeuf for this wild country.

Brebeuf sputtered, eyes widening as he caught his ragged breath, taking in Chief Long Knife's broad back as he gripped the oars. Brilliant sunshine glistened off his damp hair, water droplets trickling down his taut back muscles.

Brebeuf had not found the savages - they'd found him.

They rode in deafening silence, Brebeuf grateful to his rescuer, blissfully oblivious of their barbaric nature evidenced just days earlier.

If Brebeuf knew, perhaps he would have jumped back into the raging river.

Thunder Cloud paddled at the back of the canoe, his eyes narrowing on the man they had delivered from certain death.

Pale-face.

What was he doing this far inland?

Thunder Cloud didn't trust the advancing Europeans and had good reason although it was only a forewarning he couldn't shake.

Glowering, he jabbed Brebeuf in his bony back indicating his ragged shoes. He gestured twice, showing Brebeuf that he needed to remove his shoes. The birchbark canoe was too delicate.

Obediently, Brebeuf removed his shoes, peeling the skin off large water blisters. Sticky blood covered his toes, oozing over his bandages.

Thunder Cloud looked away.

Chief Long Knife glanced back over his shoulder, raising his fist in the air. He called out, signaling that they were cutting their fishing expedition short, turning the canoe towards home.