The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 21

Adelaide couldn't have known Chief Long Knife was such a passionate man. He'd been wild and fierce then so slow and tender until she had done all she could not beg him never to stop when at last he rolled back onto the furs, sweat glistening in the moonlight.

Unable to communicate, he seemed to read her mind, entwining his fingers in her hair before drawing her face down until their mouths merged in a waltz that caused the past to be forgotten - at least for tonight.

Euphoria.

Adelaide's hazy thoughts tried to remember why she'd resisted him for so long. Exhausted, she collapsed in his arms as a soft rumble of laughter interrupted the silence before Chief Long Knife kissed her yet again.

Never had she experienced anything remotely like it, feeling at once the most desired and precious woman in the world, a sensation she most definitely could get used to.

****

The next morning, Adelaide was still laying in her husband's arms when a loud, rhythmic clacking awakened her. Chief Long Knife was always the first to arise, yet this morning, when she opened her eyes, she was still pressed against his heart.

Chief Long Knife awoke with a start, throwing off the furs as he and the other warriors pulled on their loincloths, leaving their wives behind as they ran out the door into the clearing, arrows and war clubs were drawn.

Iroquois raids were much too prevalent, yet instead of the dreadful enemy, Brebeuf stood in the clearing beside an enormous wooden cross he'd erected just minutes before.

The fool had erected a monstrosity, calling attention to their camp from miles around. The little weasel would be the death of them all!

"Take it down," Chief Long Knife commanded.

"I will not, Peter," Brebeuf stood his ground even as Adelaide stepped outside, enveloped in a long fur blanket, standing at her husband's side.

A shadow passed over Brebeuf's eyes as he realized what had taken place.

"Great destruction will come," he prophesied.

Adelaide shuddered a moment before Chief Long Knife drew her trembling form against his side, offering her his strength.

Chief Long Knife's eyes narrowed, "We are married before the Great Spirit. Take it down."

Brebeuf crossed his arms, "It stays. Come, I want to show you something."

Adelaide pivoted, nearly bumping into Maggie who stood at Falcon's side. An expression passed between the women. Maggie grinned, placing her hand on her round womb.

Brebeuf played his next card, pulling out a worn, dog-eared book from beneath the furs of his pallet. Gently turning the pages, he showed the adults and children horrific pictures of Hell and the nightmarish drawings of the demons who tormented souls for eternity.

Maggie blanched, her legs buckling, yet she flinched at Falcon's touch as he reached out to support her.

Adelaide swallowed hard but didn't move away from her husband. She looked up into his eyes, more determined than ever to see him saved.

"The cross stays," Brebeuf spoke again.

Chief Long Knife nodded. If there was even a hint of truth in those pictures, he wasn't ready to take the risk. This, they must discuss further.

****

The village shaman eyed Brebeuf with suspicion. He'd received a vision that Brebeuf would destroy them, and since then he watched Brebeuf's every move. The erecting of the cross was unacceptable, but he was wise enough to know he needed to bide his time.

It came sooner than anyone had thought and in a most unexpected form: There was no rain.

The Huron, as Brebeuf referred to them simply because they resembled wild boar with their unusual headdress, relied on corn as their main food staple. Without corn, they would starve and there could be no corn without rain.

This was the shaman's time to shine, as he rattled turtle shells, calling for the Great Spirit's help. Weeks went by, turning into months and yet there was still no rain.

Chief Long Knife needed to make a decision.

Brebeuf's knees trembled as he approached the chief.

"Peter?"

Chief Long Knife didn't respond, so Brebeuf cleared his throat, trying again.

"Peter!"

Chief Long Knife turned, remembering the ridiculous name.

"Peter," Brebeuf began for the third time, "Let me pray now for the rain to come and if my God is the one true God, He will answer with rain."

Like Elijah of old, Brebeuf believed in God for the impossible.

Chief Long Knife was impressed by the tiny man's bold offer. Besides, he had nothing to lose.

Adelaide touched Maggie's arm, "Let's pray with him. Remember how Elijah called down fire from Heaven? This reminds me of that time. God must just show His power!"

"Of course!"

Maggie's eyes lit up at the thought of these people seeing God's wonders and putting their trust in Him.

Falcon and his people had become very precious to her.

****

Chief Long Knife had nothing to lose as the tribe gathered for the spectacle, scarcely believing any god would listen to Brebeuf. At best, he was annoying, constantly trying to push the white man's ways and God upon them, yet the shaman hadn't been answered.



Let's see what the tiny man's God can do.

There was an air of anticipation in the hush that ensued.

Perhaps it was a flair for the dramatic, but Brebeuf insisted the cross be taken down and repainted. The color? A deep, blood red.

Adelaide raised her eyebrow as she glanced at Maggie.

Did God really care that the cross was painted red?

Hardly.

Yet they kept quiet. Brebeuf had spent months with another tribe. Maybe this dramatic display was what was needed to capture the attention of the Wyandotte. If this is what it took for them to understand the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross, then it was well worth it. Brebeuf was simply meeting them where they were in their understanding.

The women held hands as Brebeuf explained the meaning of the red paint and how Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, had been raised up as well, offering Himself for the whole world.

The men were silent, listening to Brebeuf tell them of a Savior they had never heard of. If he sent rain, this dead man Brebeuf spoke of, still held power.

One thing at a time.

The warriors helped Brebeuf re-erect the red-stained cross, then bowed their heads as Brebeuf prayed that God would send rain, proving to them once and for all that He alone was the true God.

Adelaide squeezed Maggie's hand tight.

This was it.

Nothing.

The heavens were as silent as when the Shaman had cried out to the Great Spirit.

For a moment.

And then the sky grew dark, great drops of water plummeting the parched ground.

The children laughed, dancing in the downpour as the women hurried into the wigwam seeking cover.

Chief Long Knife looked over at Brebeuf but wasn't ready to turn his back on the Great Spirit yet.

"This God of yours is powerful, but it is not our way," Chief Long Knife turned away from the priest.

"The seed has been sown," Brebeuf grinned, undeterred.

"The cross cannot be red," the shaman complained to their chief. "It is frightening the children and will bring us bad luck." He narrowed his eyes, "It looks like the death that will come to us."

Chief Long Knife frowned. He respected the shaman's wisdom.

"We will paint it white in the morning, but the cross will stay."

It was his way of saying thank you to the God who had sent the rain.