Embrace the Wild Land Read Online Free PDF Page A

spirit. His eyes were a pale blue, his hair medium brown. Unlike Wolf’s Blood, Jeremy was afraid of weapons and had only learned to ride in order to please his father. He was learning to use a rifle now, but was sure he would never get used to its loud noise. And also unlike Wolf’s Blood, Jeremy liked books and reading.
    Abbie had taught all her children to read and write when they were old enough to learn, for there was no school in the untamed land where they lived. Wolf’s Blood had quickly grown restless and had lost his interest, preferring to be out riding free, feeling the wind in his face, to sitting with the rest of the children for the daily two-hour lessons. Abbie had finally given up, for the boy’s brooding spirit and sulking attitude had only distracted the other children.
    There had been some tense words between Abbie and Zeke over the eldest son, but Zeke understood his first-born’s spirit, which was kin to his own. He remembered the days back in Tennessee when he’d sufferedthe torture of hard school benches, forcing himself to sit still for fear the teacher would whip him. But his Indian soul had overpowered him many times, and little Zeke Monroe had suffered many whippings before the teacher finally told his white father that the boy’s presence in the classroom would no longer be tolerated. His father and stepmother had been very upset with him, and his father had given him a good thrashing. But Zeke had enjoyed it, for being free of school was worth the price he’d paid. He’d been cast off as an “ignorant savage” who had no respect for “proper whiteman’s ways” and whose heathen soul would surely burn forever in hell. But for Zeke, hell had been the classroom and the stiff white man’s clothing. Heaven was freedom, the feel of the wind on his face, the smell of the earth and the sharing of spirit with the animals. He well understood how Wolf’s Blood was feeling, and he had convinced Abbie to understand and let the boy go.
    But Jeremy was a complete opposite, and his quick learning was almost more than Abbie could keep up with, his appetite for reading was voracious. He was a good boy, but he did not have an Indian’s spirit; and although Abbie knew Zeke loved each of his children with great passion, she knew there might one day be fierce friction between Zeke and his second son.
    Child number five followed Jeremy, a third daughter named Ellen, six years old. Her Indian name was Ishiomiists (Rising Sun), and she was a grand mixture, with skin that soaked up the sun easily, eyes as blue as the sky, and dark hair but not truly black like her sister Margaret’s. Ellen’s nature was quiet and friendly, a calm, dependable child who seemed to accept both her Indian and white blood with equal pride.
    Ellen was the last in the long line of Monroe children, with numbers six and seven riding in front with theirmother. Her horse disappeared through the gate, and then the fort came alive. There was suddenly movement everywhere, with officers trying to keep order while men began eagerly betting on the next day’s knife duel, as well as getting bets organized for the horse races, which would take place on the second day. In one corner of the fort a side of beef was being roasted over an open pit, being prepared for that evening’s celebrating. Each Indian tribe there would give a demonstration of one of their dances of celebration to the soldiers, and campfires would burn well into the night. The next day would bring the contests—wrestling, running and shooting, and then, of course, the duel between the one called Blade and the half-breed called Cheyenne Zeke.
    Abbie watched the broad shoulders of her husband’s back, her heart tightening at the thought of the challenge. She had not expected the fight to take place the Indian way, with the left hand tied behind the back and each man taking the end of a leather strap in his teeth, forcing their bodies to stay close together.
    “Zeke?”