Death on the Greasy Grass Read Free Page B

bare legs.
    Eagle Bull looked around and nudged his dead companion with the toe of his moccasin before turning to White Crow. Eagle Bull slid his knife from the sheath, made the scalp cut in one motion, and lifted White Crow’s scalp. He tucked it into his fringed shirt and stood. He walked to the place where Levi had dropped his rifle and picked it up, blowing dust from the action.
    Levi unsheathed his own knife and crouched, judging the distance, judging the time it would take to rush Eagle Bull. Eagle Bull stopped, his hand tightening on his rifle, his head turning toward Levi hidden in the grass. Levi realized he would not get two steps before Eagle Bull saw him and shot. A Crow—enemy of the Lakota since oral history told of their conflicts—was understandable. But why had Eagle Bull killed his own friend? Levi held his breath as he wiped sweat from his hand on his trousers. Anyone evil enough to kill a comrade for the honor of a Crow scalp and his pony would gladly kill an enemy.
    Eagle Bull, his head swiveling and eyes darting like an owl listening for the mouse, stepped toward Levi. Levi relaxed his muscles, for he knew tight muscles reacted slowly, and prepared to rush Eagle Bull. Another step. Eagle Bull lifted his head up, testing the wind. Levi thanked the Creator his mess was downwind from where the Lakota stood with rifle clenched, looking for someone else to kill.
    Levi looked away.
The eyes draw the eyes
, as he had learned from a lifetime of hunting the same type of warrior that now had the upper hand mere feet away.
    Eagle Bull shrugged and relaxed his grip on his rifle. He turned to Levi and White Crow’s ponies and gathered their reins. He swung his leg over his own pony’s back, leading the other horses down the hill. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, as if taunting Levi, before resuming the slow walk toward the huge enemy camp just across the Greasy Grass.
    Levi waited until he could no longer hear the snort of Eagle Bull’s pony before he stood and walked to his friend. White Crow lay with blood clotting in his open eyes from the insulting, bone-deep cut encircling his head.
    Levi shuddered. He jumped at the screech of the owl. He jerked his head around, but he saw no owl plying its grisly trade near his dead friend. Levi shuddered anew. White Crow’s
ira’xaxe
, his soul, remained near his body.
    But he knew he had heard it. He had heard the owl’s lament, the soul grieving for the man, who moments before had breathed the air of a free-ranging warrior. And Levi would forever hear that cry as it wrenched at the fringes of his consciousness.

C HAPTER 3

    Willie skidded to a stop, narrowly missing a suicidal doe antelope crossing the road. The dust settled just as she reached the ditch on the other side. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder before snacking on gamma grass. Willie breathed deeply and turned to Manny. “Maybe if you’d had your brake shoes replaced this heap would be able to stop safely.”
    â€œYou’re the one that wanted to drive.”
    â€œOnly because I want to come off this vacation alive.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œYou know just what I mean.” Willie looked sideways and continued down the gravel road. He didn’t have to explain: Manny’s crappy driving continued to scare Willie. Since Manny had returned to Pine Ridge from Virginia, he had seriously wrecked four cars, and he’d had a minor accident with Willie’s truck.
Okay, so it wasn’t minor to Willie. But I fixed it. And if they had mass transit here in the outback, I wouldn’t have wrecked those.
Willie wisely insisted on driving to Crow Agency from Pine Ridge, and he wouldn’t let Manny near the wheel. Of his own car.
    â€œAt least let me change the music.”
    Manny reached for the CD, but Willie slapped his hand away. “You said come up with some compromise, and I have. Now sit